Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Luckily for Setsura, this time he had a firm grasp of his own mind. While transforming to something at the bottom of the sea, he surveyed his surroundings. A golden gleam played hide and seek on the wildly overgrown lawn. Lying in the grass was the flute General Bey had dropped from his scalded hand.

This alone had the power to awake the mad mollusk from its sleep.

However, by changing back into a dream, Setsura had also lost physical contact with the real world.

At that moment, a cheerful voice called out, “Leave that to me.”

Together with the vigorous flapping of wings, a vision of glittering golden hair alit on the ground before Setsura’s eyes—the small, cherubic face, the deep blue eyes, the purple satin dress.

“I’ll take things from here,” said the big raven. Thanks to Galeen Nuvenberg’s first aid, it had miraculously been restored to a whole bird. One half had watched over the witch outside the fence while the other half tailed the walking dream that was Setsura. Several minutes before, when he’d come back to life, the bird had merged together into its original form outside the fence.

Even when it’d been split in two, half of it had gone looking for Galeen Nuvenberg for help, captured the clairvoyant, kept Setsura’s devil wire dream from invading the city, and then restored Setsura’s consciousness. By anybody’s calculation, that was no mean feat.

Arriving at exactly the right time could be credited in part to his other half knowing that Setsura was on his way to the library. But the real reason was that Nuvenberg had witnessed the full particulars from outside the fence. Because by then she had the Clairvoyant at her beck and call.

Gold gleamed in the doll girl’s mouth and the soundless sound cried out. Ten seconds later—Setsura sank to the grass on one knee.

“Are you all right?” the big raven asked, though in Nuvenberg’s voice. “We have been watching you all along. So don’t worry.”

“How was the hospital?” Setsura said half in jest. “They sure bitch about checking yourself out of that place. That director in particular.”

“Oh, he should behave himself until sundown.” The raven switched back to his mistress’s curt female diction. “Until then, we have some straightening up to do. Starting with burning that man’s casket—Kazikli Bey.”

“We can’t do that,” said Setsura, starting toward the library door.

“Why is that?” the doll girl asked.

There she was with her deep ocean blue eyes and graceful lips brushed with red. This was the girl who’d perched astride the Clairvoyant’s shoulders like the Colossus and snapped his neck, just like that. The citizens of Demon City were hardly strangers to these precincts either.

“The bastard took Kanan-san with him into his casket.” His eyes reflected only the severed body of Chan sprawled on the floor.

“How do you intend to proceed?” queried the raven as they passed through the entranceway.

“Don’t know,” Setsura said shortly. “But would you happen to know who this Chinese chap is?”

“Yeah, our friend here fessed up. He’s attached to SDF Special Forces Operational Detachment F. The foreign legion contingent. Their objective—”

A ray of sunlight slashed through the skylight. Three shadows—one human, one not so human, one bird—crawled faintly across the floor.

Setsura said as calmly as ever, “You know things are getting messed up when outsiders start interfering in our business.”

“If we don’t settle our business with those four, we can probably expect the nuclear option to be exercised eventually. Thankfully, we got us here a seer. He should be able to tell us whether they’re still in the park. As for you—”

“I know.” Setsura nodded. “But as you have just seen, I’m still locked in this dream. And the mollusk is as mad as ever.”

“There is that.”

“The guy on the floor was in the dream with me. And yet he’s not coming back. Only I turned into the ocean. What do you think that means?”

“Probably that yours is the stronger will. No question after seeing your devil wire dream. For the same kind of reasons a man will visit his lover over and over in his dreams.”

The sound of muffled laughter made Setsura look down. The doll girl had her hand pressed against her mouth. Feeling Setsura’s eyes upon her, she put on a serious expression.

“Excuse me,” she said with a nod of her head.

“No problem,” Setsura said awkwardly. His right hand flashed. He was aware of the vampire’s defensive measures. The devil wire sensed nothing afoot.

The motley crew surrounded the resplendent box of death. The lustrous black surface did not contain a single carving or inscription, but was inlaid with jewels the size of a man’s thumb. Ruby red. Sapphire blue. Emerald green. Transparent diamond. A child with zero artistic appreciation would be transfixed by the play of color and light.

The lid and sides of the casket were edged with gold. The doll girl pointed at a place on the lid. There alone an emblem was engraved into the wood—a dragon undulating through the heavens.

“Just what I’d expect from him,” said the doll girl.

Setsura nodded. “And all the more reason to keep our distance.”

He took five paces backwards and then wrapped the casket with devil wire. The casket was made out of oak. Of particular concern was the apparent lack of any other security measures. Plucking at the devil wire like the strings of a harp told him that the wood was six inches at its thickest and an inch at its thinnest. Cutting it would be easy.

There was no need to hesitate. The summer days were long but would not last forever. And when the night came, the creatures of the night would come out to play.

Setsura yanked on the wires. Without touching the occupants inside, the casket should have broken into a half-dozen pieces. But only the devil wires moved. Upon closer inspection, they hadn’t left a mark on the surface.

“Of course. It must be the resin in the wood.”

“What exactly? Strip it off and it should become clearer.”

“Using fire?”

“I don’t see any other way.”

A gold lighter glittered in the doll girl’s hand. It spat out a blue plasma flame the color of a welder’s torch.

“Thirty thousand degrees.”

But after applying the fierce flame to the surface, the brilliant finish showed not the slightest blemish or scorch mark.

“It can’t be cut or burned. I don’t expect a sledgehammer would do any better. I wouldn’t be surprised if it could survive a small nuclear blast.”

“Then—what?”

“I don’t know what our next step should be. But their strategy is simple. They can stay put. They’re immortal, after all.”

“No doubt.”

Silence fell. The summer sunlight possessed a certain serenity as well.

The big raven said in Galeen Nuvenberg’s voice, “Leave the hall directly. Proceed twenty yards to the southwest. There you will find a cave. But that is only how it appears. Try as he might, the Clairvoyant cannot see inside it.”