ACT FIVE

Of Local Street Food and Foreign Relations

 

Content Warning: Eye Poking and also Lykomedes

 

Pestrikates had waited for her, on the street in the foreigner’s quarter where stood the imperial consulate, out of his duty wear and in a more casual robe style that she’d seen in the markets earlier. The graying curls of his hair were kept out of his face with a simple wooden circlet that had a small badge on it to signify his rank and duty. He held a steaming clay bowl in each hand, but didn’t seem to mind the heat.

“Lieutenant,” she said.

“Liu—no, Sun Jin Bukian, am I right?” he ventured jovially. He seemed to be in much better spirits than he had in the morning. Sun smiled coyly, and said, “You’re very perceptive, Lieutenant.”

“I ought to be—I am a detective after all, and as this morning demonstrated, psychometry isn’t foolproof. Here—food, as promised.”

Sun snatched the proffered bowl a little more greedily than she’d meant to. It smelled like home—there were some foreign vegetables in it, but the noodles and sauce and stalkwood shoots in the bowl were as authentic and satisfying as she remembered from when she’d go to the capital to visit her grandmother. It was strange to eat them with the wooden fork that had been provided with the bowl, but chopsticks would probably have been too much to ask for. They both stood there, eating while standing, Pestrikates handling the food foreign to him as awkwardly as Sun handled the utensil foreign to her, but both ate quickly, because fresh hot noodles did not last long in the hands of the hungry, be they foreign or not.

“Gods, that hit the spot,” Sun sighed, placing the fork across the top of her empty bowl.

Pestrikates finished soon after, and burped a bit, wiping his chin on his arm. “Haven’t had enough food out of the foreign quarter, that was quite good!” He said it as though he were surprised.

“I haven’t had good noodles since we left Imperial territory,” Sun said, a little wistfully.

“Why did you come to the Aeolan league?” Pestrikates asked, a little hesitantly.

“I always wanted to see the world before I died. Liu wanted to make it up to me that I never got to.” Sun said, wishing that their situation was that true or simple.

“I see,” Pestrikates said, obviously unconvinced. “Here, let me take that back to the vendor, and we can check the consulate.” She handed him her empty bowl, and he stacked it on top of his own. “Where’s your sister, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She said she’d join us inside, but had some business to attend to first, in this sort of mysterious way that she does,” Sun shrugged. “But she did ask to pass on her thanks, and to give you this, for your trouble.” She pressed something into the Lieutenant’s hand. He looked down at it.

“An acorn?”

“For safekeeping.”

Pestrikates shrugged, pocketing the acorn before bearing the empty bowls down the street. When he returned, he asked, scratching his head, “I was wondering…have I gone fully mad, or are the streets more crowded than usual this evening?”

Sun looked around herself, then chuckled. “I wouldn’t discount you going fully mad, but no—my sister put your spirit one step into The Breach. A lot of the people you’ll see out on the streets are ghosts that haven’t really passed through the membrane into this world or the next, so they’re stuck in a sort of loop of daily tasks, mundane activities, things they were used to.”

“Oh…that sounds horrible.”

“Not at all, it seems terribly relaxing to me.” She looked at the double doors of the consulate. It included both the embassy and the consul’s mansion. It looked to her like a little island of Imperial aesthetic in the surrounding Aeolan sea, with its tall squared-off roofs and relaxing building ethos. “You ready for this, Lieutenant?”

“I suppose so.”

Sun looked at the searchman intensely, and said as deeply as Liu’s voice would go: “We are about to enter the dragon’s den. If we are to get justice for that little girl and her father, and for all of the murders of this phantom, you need to do exactly as my sister and I tell you. Otherwise, we could end up in an isolation gaol, or worse,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Dead. Keep your wits about you, and follow my lead, Pesticles.”

“It’s Pestrikates.”

“I am terrible with names,” Sun said, still keeping her mysterious voice on. “Let’s go.” She turned on a sandal and marched up the riverstone-cobbled path in the consulate’s front garden, towards the embassy’s front door. She enjoyed her sister’s long stride as Pestrikates jogged to keep up with her. “Hang on a moment. What do you mean by, ‘we might end up dead?’”

“I more meant that you might end up dead. I’m already dead. But what I mean is that we are going to possibly commit some crimes in order to identify the killer, but sometimes that’s what justice needs—crimes.”

“Just what are we going to be doing in there?” the detective asked, huffing.

“Not quite sure. Liu will tell you when we get inside. She’s given me my own instructions, and I need to concentrate on my role. Just go with the flow and everything will be fine.” She attempted an arrogant hair-flip, but Liu’s hair was not long or brushed enough for her to complete the effect, so it more looked like she had a bad twitch. She pulled the door open and walked inside the front office of the embassy.

A little bell above the door tinkled as they entered. The first thing that Sun noticed once inside the lobby was that it was hot, but well-ventilated. It really did feel like a dragon’s den, lit with red candles that lined niches along the walls. The floors and walls were slat with local spruce, cut imperial style, with imported mahogany rafters. There was a partition at the end of the lobby, separating the waiting area from a front desk. A woman in a silk brocade cheongsam appeared from around the wall, and bowed to them. She had jade earrings and comfortable-looking shoes—Sun desperately wanted to talk fashion with a countrywoman, but instead she simply returned the bow. The woman said, “We will be with you shortly when we have finished serving our next visitor,” before turning to a pair of monks in oyster-colored robes who were seated nearest to the partition, “Please come with me,” she said to them in an even voice, and the three of them disappeared behind the partition.

Sun and Pestrikates sat in the chairs nearest to the door, and Sun asked, “Did you see them go in?”

“No,” the detective replied. “They must have been waiting there for a while.”

“Hanh appeared, squatting in a chair next to Sun. “Those were mountain monks,” she said, stroking her chin. “I wish I could ask them about their technique.”

“I thought you already knew mountain monk techniques,” said Sun, annoyed that one of the other spirits had appeared before their cue.

“I know southern-style Imperial mountain monk fighting style. Those two, with the shaved heads and gray robes, were northern style.”

“What’s the difference?” Pestrikates asked.

“Southern style has a higher stance, much more about punching.” Hanh said, stretching her hands out before her. “Northern style has a much lower horse stance, and they can kick.” She stretched one leg out before her, showing an impressive display of balance that was basically meaningless, being a ghost.

“You already do use a bunch of kicks.” Sun said.

“I can kick,” Hanh said wisely, “But they can kick.”

"Shut up and get back to the well, Hanh,” said an exasperated Sun. The fighter stuck her tongue out before disappearing.

“Sorry to sound ignorant, but I’m pretty new at all of this,” Pestrikates said. “What’s the well?”

“It’s where my sister keeps her contracted ghosts when she’s not using us,” Sun explained. “It’s a little world of her own. If I had to describe it, it’s like being in the womb, but you can also peek out of it and hear stuff, like you're hiding in a barrel. It’s apparently where she’s bound our spirits, so it feels safe—we can’t be hurt in the well.”

“I didn’t know ghosts could be hurt.”

“We can, it's just usually emotional damage,” Sun said, tapping Liu’s foot anxiously. She was about to explain further, but another person entered from the partition, wearing a different but equally fashionable venom-green cheongsam, who bowed politely. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” they said, “Please, follow me.”

They stood, Pestrikates bowing from the neck a few times in that anxious way that westerners often did when they thought it was polite, and followed the personage in the green cheongsam past the partition into the second half of the room, which looked like a cross between a security checkpoint and the front desk of a dentist’s office, with a long wooden desk next to a warded gate. Behind the desk sat a receptionist on a tall stool in yet another fashionable dress, and Sun nearly vibrated with the need to ask where to get her hands on all these cute Imperial clothes this far from the nation’s borders. The person in the green cheongsam bowed politely, before leaving them through a door to the side of the receptionists’ desk. Sun bowed a courteous, shallow bow to the receptionist, while Pestrikates tried to go for a full bow at the waist and came up holding a hand to his lower back.

“Good evening,” the receptionist began, pulling up a scroll, “May I take your names?”

Sun looked at Pestrikates, and he nodded. “Searchman-Lieutenant Pestrikates of Karkadi,” he announced in a voice that reverberated off of the rafters. He shifted sheepishly.

Sun cleared Liu's throat, and announced in the most authoritative voice she could produce from her sister’s vocal cords, “Inspector Tseng Mei Hso of Imperial Special Intelligence.” She did not watch for Pestrikates’ reaction, but she was sure it was bewilderment. Just go with the flow, man, she willed in her mind as the receptionist jotted down their names.

“Do you have identification papers, detectives?” the receptionist asked, immediately on guard. Pestrikates produced his own, and the receptionist peered over the desk to look at it. Sun rapped Liu’s knuckles against the desk. “That’s part of why I’m here. You see, my official papers were stolen from me on my train ride here—probably an attempt to disrupt this very important joint investigation we are conducting with cooperation with the Aeolan provisional government,” she gestured to Pestrikates beside her, “You can, of course, confirm my arrival here by train three days ago, and I will happily produce the counterseal to the identity confirmation test.”

“Yes, well…” the receptionist looked at them both for a moment. “If you sirs will just wait a moment, I will go and get the appropriate papers.” She slid from her stool and walked around the corner behind her desk, leaving Pestrikates and her momentarily alone.

“I’m sorry, Inspector Hso?” Pestrikates asked, bewildered.

“Inspector Tseng, actually. Remember, Imperial surnames go first. Again, just go with the flow and don’t blow my cover,” Sun said quickly, going through Liu’s pockets until she found the paper spell talisman she needed. She rolled up the little sealed tag and poked it into the paper of the name scroll that the receptionist had left on the desk, so that the spell runes lined up with the neatly-written ‘Tseng Mei Hso, Inspect. ISI’ on the scroll. She exhaled lightly, and assumed a patient position, hands in sleeves, bouncing slightly on her heels.

“I’m beginning to get the impression that you’re not entirely trustworthy, Bukian,” Pestrikates said, although he didn’t seem very bothered by this revelation.

“Me? I’m perfectly innocent,” Sun said sweetly. “It’s my sister who you ought to worry about. And again, it’s Tseng while we’re here. The instant these folks hear an immigrant name, they’ll be on full alert, even out here in the satellite empire.” She sighed, adding, “I was so excited to get married and have a normal imperial surname. Wei Sun Jin. It even rolls off the tongue better.”

“I take offence to that,” Pestrikates huffed. “The Aeolan League is a fully independent state, not a satellite to the Imperial Nation.”

“Sure, Pesky,” Sun said, “The consulate here just happens to be the same size as the governor’s palace.”

The detective opened his mouth to respond, probably to the nickname ‘Pesky,’ but before he could, the receptionist returned, with a scroll and a thick-looking sealed envelope. “Sorry to keep you sirs waiting. The train logs do indeed corroborate with your reported arrival, Inspector Tseng, but do not list you as having reported any of your goods stolen.”

“Hang on, how do you have logs on Aeolan trains?” Pestrikates asked, indignant.

“The empire is privy to all logs on inter-state travel within the Aeolan borders as per the transportation and commerce section of the treaty,” the receptionist replied in an even, practiced tone. “It’s for security reasons. I can provide you with a copy detailing the provision, if you like.”

Pestrikates cowed, and ground out, “No need.” Before looking away.

Sun smiled gently. “I reported my belongings stolen to the local Civil Authority when I arrived. I was already on my way to their temple here in Kios, and that’s where I met Lieutenant Pestrikates here.”

“I see…” the woman broke the wax seal on the envelope and opened it, placing a card from it in front of her, out of sight, and proffering Sun another, along with an inkbrush pen. “Please mark the counterseal for the identification process.”

“Of course,” Sun said, as she discreetly pasted another paper spell tag onto Liu’s wrist, before taking the card and pen from the receptionist. Hanh appeared at the receptionist’s shoulder and leaned over to look at the card in front of her. There was a sigillary spell rune on the back of her hand matching the one Sun had pasted on her sister’s wrist, and she slowly traced her finger over the seal on the primary card, the haptic jolt nudging Liu’s hand along in ideomotor sympathy. Sun had to hold the counterseal card in a funny way in order to line it up with the movement of Hanh’s mirrored movement, and the lines ended up rather wobbly and unclear, but they were correct—no wards triggered, and the receptionist seemed satisfied when Sun handed the counterseal card back to her. “Alright then, you’ll have to send for new identification papers, but this will act as your temporary pass,” the receptionist said, pressing a third card over her pseudonym on the guest list scroll, casting a minor spell over it. The name was printed on the card when she passed it back to Sun, with ‘Guest Access Level 2’ next to ‘Tseng Mei Hso, Inspect. ISI’ in quickly-drying red ink.

“Please keep this on you at all times and present it whenever asked. You may both pass through the ward-gate.”

Sun thanked the woman in Bahk-wá, and they both bowed. She nodded to Pestrikates, who approached the ward-gate, which looked like a pair of large wooden door-frames covered in spell runes, with a stretch of stone flooring between either frame. As Pestrikates passed through, a pair of seals appeared on the stone flooring as he walked past, as if they were ink images appearing in water. A quiet glamer sounded, and a fiery sigil appeared at the second gate, burning in midair.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to empty out your pockets,” the receptionist said with a hint of urgency, placing a tray in front of him. Pestrikates had yelped at the alarm, and quickly dumped his possessions onto the tray when it was presented; a small rod of office, his wallet, a date pit that looked like it had been in his pocket when his clothes were last washed, his identification papers and a notepad. He flicked lint from his fingers and wiped his hands sheepishly on his front as his possessions were inspected by the receptionist. She scoured his belongings, before passing a small rod wrapped in seal talismans over it, making a sound of consternation in her throat.

“I believe there are a few magical components and reagents in his wallet; he is a practitioner, a searchman-psychometrist,” Sun explained in a cheerful voice. The receptionist passed the rod over the effects one more time, before deactivating the fire seal. “Go ahead,” she said, a little begrudgingly. Pestrikates bowed a few times awkwardly while he gathered his belongings, and walked through the second gate unharmed. Sun walked through after him, her breath held as she waited for the wards to trigger. But none of them did. She exhaled in relief, smiling briefly at the receptionist, before leading Pestrikates down a hallway, and turning where Liu had instructed. Left turn, right, left, second door on the right.

When she had hustled Pestrikates inside, she peeled the talisman off of her wrist, and then opened Liu’s changshan and shirt. “Alright, Pesky,” she said to the detective panting next to her, “See you on the other side,” before ripping off a talisman that had been pasted over Liu’s heart.

 

Liu jolted into her body with the taste of anxiety and bile in her mouth. Sun’s spirit wobbled a little next to her. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” her sister said. Liu sucked breath in to try and calm herself. She nearly overexerted her magic, and hadn’t even been there to do it.

“Where were you?” Pestrikates demanded.

“In the Breach,” Liu said. “My soul is indelibly marked by the Imperial Special Intelligence Bureau. If I had inhabited my own body while walking through that ward gate, we’d have been in a whole lot of trouble. Sun did well, I assume?”

“Yeah, Inspector Tseng,” Pestrikates said. “I made it too, thanks for asking. What was with the gate? Why are we even here?”

“That acorn I had Sun put in your pocket was meant to eat the ward’s attention to magical reagents and artifacts. I don’t know if you know this, but I can’t do my work without a shitload of reagents and artifacts.”

“It turned to dirt in my pocket,” Pestrikates moaned. “It’s all under my nails, now.”

Ignoring him, Liu continued: “The reason we’re here is to grab that train log, as well as the port log. We need the name of the warlock showoff who can summon imperial spirits here with apparently no consequence.”

“Oooh, you’re jealous of them, aren’t you?” Sun said. “You’re jealous that there’s a spirit channeler stronger than you out there.”

“Certainly not. Also, whoever it is, they’re not stronger than me. They’re just cheating, probably.” Liu said. “Anything else?”

“One more question.” Pestrikates said.

“Only one?”

“Actually about a thousand more questions, but only the one is pertinent right now,” he said. “What room is this?”

It was a large room with shelves stacked from floor to ceiling, with filing boxes in nearly each shelf. It was clearly labeled on the sign posted to the central column, but Liu remembered that Pestrikates could probably not read even simplified imperial script, and so translated for him: “Records, Personnel and Registered Practitioners, Level 2. I’ll say this for the Imperial Nation; they’re incredibly fastidious record-keepers. A moment.” Liu said, snatching the registry list and moving to the section marked ‘Criminal/Rogue Practitioners—Dangerous,’ and pulling a box from the shelf. She rifled through it quickly until she pulled a rather thick folio, with ‘Bukian, Liu’ printed on the spine. She popped the seal and opened it, her Imperial Academy photograph staring back at her in stark black and white.

“That’s you!” Pestrikates said.

“My my, you are perceptive, my dear detective! It’s no wonder the streets of Kios are so safe with you on the job—unless you count the serial murderer and a serial-murdering ghost on the loose who you didn’t have a prayer of finding before I came along,” Liu said bitterly. She always settled into the comfort of sardonicism when faced with her past—especially photos of her from before she had run away. The photographic simulacrum of her was a gaunt, hungrier-looking version of her, with even deeper shadows under her eyes, a worse complexion, and the wispy moustache on the edges of her mouth that she'd grown from neglect more than volition. Having Sun around to take care of her body, and having to take care of her body to keep Sun safe, had at least made her easier to look at. She thumbed through the pages, listing her various academic achievements, and her much more various crimes, before she came to the last page of the folio, which was covered in paper talismans and seals. She dug a tiny stick of charcoal from her pocket, and breathed into it. The bound Foxfire spirit sparked to life in her hands, a greenish-blue fire at the end of the matchstick-sized length of charcoal.

“You eat this file for me, and we’re square, alright?” Liu said earnestly, and the flame seemed to assent—she didn’t really know if it could even really understand her, anyway—so she flicked it onto the page of seals, before closing the folio.

“I’m not even going to ask anymore,” Pestrikates said from behind her. She opened the folio, and the entire case file on her had been burned away in smokeless green flame, leaving only the melted celluloid of the photograph and the still-burning charcoal. She picked it up, unbothered by the foxfire against her finger, and popped it in her mouth, swallowing it whole. Pestrikates sighed, “Okay, nevermind, I’ve gotta know. What the fuck just happened?”

“Those spell tags are how they try and track me. They’re just copies—the originals are stored in the Imperial Capital—but these extend their range. Now I can move about freely in Kios without needing to mute my presence or limit my magic use.”

“I meant the ignis you just ate, but that answers a lot of questions too, I guess.”

Liu set the folder back into the box and replaced it on the shelf and dusted her hands off. “Well, good to have that taken care of.”

“Did you have me lie to an imperial representative and commit criminal trespassing just for you to erase your file of extensive crimes?” Pestrikates growled. “What happened to getting justice for the murder victims?”

“Justice? I believe that’s more your shtick, copper—I have higher callings than vague nonsense like ‘justice’ or ‘moral virtue’ or ‘boo-hoo, murder is bad,’” Liu sneered. “I’m doing this to play two separate ends against the middle. My goals simply align with yours and everyone else’s.”

Pestrikates grabbed her by the shirt and shook her, and Liu was rattled by his sudden strength. “I ought to bring you in," he growled. "I’m sure there’s a lot of people who’d like to see you extradited back to the imperial heartland.”

“Easy there, Pesky…” Sun said nervously from beside the two.

“On what charges? You’re my accomplice at this point.” Liu explained slowly. “Look, I’ll catch this killer of yours, whether you want to help or not. If you’re going to invoke justice, working with me is just going to be one of the consequences of that. Unless you know how to track a ghost?” Pestrikates released her, and she closed her shirt and smoothed out her robes, tucking the room’s entries list into her pocket. “This is why I have my sister deal with people for me,” she muttered, before taking in a short breath. “You won’t have to deal with me for long. If Sun did as I instructed, the receptionist would have been tagged with a dowsing spell. Unfortunately, I cannot see magic, nor can I cast spells that require somatic components. I lacked the dexterity for prestidigitation, and I was not…physically gifted with some spell requirements, hence the talisman components. This means that in order to cast the dowsing spell that will allow us to find the travel logs and anything else touched by the receptionist, I will need to do something unpleasant.”

“What?” asked Pestrikates, uneasy.

“I’ll have to…” Liu closed her eyes, “…give Lykomedes control.”

“Eugh, barf!” Sun said.

“It would be an honor to work with a practitioner of his stature,” Pestrikates said. “But he does seem…”

“Problematic?” Liu offered, while Sun supplied, “Like a perverted slut with daddy issues?”

“…sure, let’s go with that.” Pestrikates said.

“Do not worry. Sun will be here the whole time, and you may strike him if he gets too…overstimulated. But please try not to leave any bruises if at all possible—I see you’re already popping your knuckles, I know you don’t like me but please, I don’t need to explain any open wounds to the receptionist on our way out.”

“Alright, bring him out.”

“Just…keep him on task,” said Liu, before breathing in deeply, and closing her eyes.

 

Lykomedes breathed out, and saw the world in full color for the first time in over a decade. More than that, he felt a heart beating in his chest, the weight of clothes on his back, even the welcome pressure of hard flooring through soft shoes. He immediately shuddered, wrapping arms around himself and closing his eyes, sighing deeply.

“What are you doing?” that shrew, Sun, barked in his ear.

“Hugging myself,” he replied. “I haven’t felt human touch in the years since I died. It’s so, so good to be back again.”

“Oh, that’s actually kind of sweet,” a second voice said.

Lykomedes had enough of the self-pitying hug and decided to inspect the goods, squeezing the body at the hips and thighs, briefly cupping the waist, chest, ass, gasping lightly at the sensations. “Ah, there he goes ruining it already,” Sun cried. “Can you quit groping my sister’s body and stick to the task at hand?”

“'Groping' implies that I’m enjoying myself,” Lykomedes replied, eyes still closed, delighting in the feeling of a tongue in his mouth rounding out the word ‘enjoying’. “I’m simply taking inventory of what I’ve got to work with. Your sister hardly fits the callipygian ideal I’m used to, but…it could be worse.” He opened his eyes, and aspied the heavy-set fellow from before. He could pass for a sloppy bear, the sort of pathetic babygirl type that was all the rage right now. “Pestrikates, right? Listen, I’ll cut to the chase—I’d do you some tremendous favors in exchange for a kiss right now. I’m desperate, you see, like the man from the poem—dying for a peach, a rose, an eternity for a sip of dew.” Lykomedes pursed his lips as seductively as a he could, considering their owner’s angry little face.

“I’m…married,” the man said. Oh wow, he was a little cute when he was flustered.

Lykomedes laughed, “No you’re not,” and the man immediately relented.

“Okay, I’m not married, but I am divorced,” the lieutenant stuttered, shuffling his feet a little awkwardly.

“That’s fine,” said Lykomedes, batting eyelashes that were shorter than his preference, “I like a guy with experience.”

“EW. YUCK. GROSS. PUKE. NEVER MAKE LIU’S FACE DO THAT EVER AGAIN.” Sun roared. “PESKY, HIT HIM!”

“I’d rather not, it’s weird now,” said the detective.

“Shit, maybe twelve years of cabin fever is getting to me, but is the nickname thing actually kind of cute?” Lykomedes teased. “Go on Pesky, hit me—”

Pestrikates crossed his hand across Liu’s face, and Lykomedes went to the ground with something between a yelp and a moan. “Sorry, sorry!" Pestrikates said, "Just, the—don’t, don’t call me Pesky. It’s thoroughly weird now,” offering a hand and helping him up, and Lykomedes cradled the spot where he’d been struck. “Oh, don’t apologize,” he said, licking at the copper taste of blood in his mouth. His heart was beating, soaring. “Gods, I might pay you for the favor the next time you get angry.”

Sun retched. “Ugh, of course you like getting slapped around you hussy. And don’t let him try to bribe you for sexual favors, Pesk—Pestrikates; we don’t let him have any money for this exact reason.”

“All of the money in the world is nothing next to the fortune of the soul and the wealth of the body, my dear Sun Bukian.”

“Uh, we should…ahem, we should get to work,” Pesky said, wringing his lovely large hands.

“Yeah, you should have thoroughly gotten your rocks off by now, Lykomedes,” Sun whined.

“Hardly,” Lykomedes said, “But it shall have to tide me over until I get my reward for this monumental favor I’m doing for you all.”

“Wait, what reward?”

“Your sister has graciously promised me a night in this local cathouse I know, provided I cast a simple dowsing spell for you lot, right? Oh, don’t be jealous, Pesky. You can be my plus one,” he said with a wink, which Pestrikates decided not to meet.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

“Absolutely yes. It’s a classy joint and I’ve been going there for years. Now will you kindly shut your ghost-hole so I can concentrate? There’s so many practitioners in the building it’s difficult to sort out the noise of incompetence,” Lykomedes said, closing his eyes as the loud Bukian sister continued to whine and whinny and complain behind him. The gestures were simple—he had no idea why the scrawny Bukian sister couldn’t master them. But then again, he was a genius. Perhaps she just sucked and was awful and had a flat butt and no tits and was a hack magician? These were all very likely.

Although…the fact that he had so much control and feeling was incredible. He didn’t know what the others knew about spirit magic, but the overlap that he was granted was a superb simulacrum of possession technique to the point where he was sure that even if he had devoted his tremendous talents towards this folk necromancy of hers, he wouldn’t have been able to master it at this level, especially with this many souls at once. She may not have had much in terms of intrinsic magical ability, but her fine internal control skills bordered on the prodigy level. Lykomedes made a mental note of this for later: Liu Bukian was dangerous, but perhaps worth it if he could find a way to lock her out. He finished casting the spell, and could see through the walls his prize—the longest route taken by the receptionist practitioner twice in the past hour. The room where the log books are stored.

He crooked a finger for Pesky to follow, and marched into the hallway, confidently. If you walk down a hallway with confidence and with purpose, sometimes carrying a slip of paper, people are less likely to question where you are going. Lykomedes learned this early in his academic career by faking hall passes and considered it universally true everywhere else in life and thereafter. Unfortunately, a man in a lavish suit with a revolver at his belt did not seem to share this axiom, and held up a hand to stop them, barking orders in the melodic imperial tongue.

“He’s asking for your papers,” Sun hissed, and Pestrikates immediately produced his own. “Right pants pocket,” the girl whispered, despite the officer not being able to see or hear her.

He handed the temporary access card to the officer, who read it, before handing it back to him with a short bow and gentle words, before barking more orders at Pestrikates. The officer began explaining something patiently to Lykomedes, who nodded politely as Sun translated. “He says you have access to the log room, but..." she said, wavering. "He's speaking Zhongxin-yán, and I grew up speaking Bahk-wá. Ugh, city boys—I think he's saying Pestrikates has to wait outside."

Lykomedes turned to face Pestrikates as he walked backwards towards the log room door. “Sorry, Pesky, you’ll have to wait outside.”

“It’s quite alright, Inspector Tseng.” Pestrikates said, badly hiding his irritation as he folded his arms behind his back. Lykomedes smirked, and bowed with a flourish to the officer before entering the room.

Whatever he had expected the log room to look like, it wasn’t this. The room was the same size as the file room from before, but dark, the only light being cast on a table in the back with a stack of twitching scrolls on them. On either side of the table, were statues that looked sort of like goats, and sort of like dragons, and sort of like dogs—and they were brimming with magic. “What the fuck are those?”

“Hsieh-chi statues. They’re a security measure. They come to life and rip you to shreds if you can’t say the countersign.” Sun sounded somewhat excited for some reason.

“Well I hope you have a plan for getting around them, because I can’t speak fucking imperial.” Lykomedes hissed. Then, he said clearly, “One moment, please,” without his control, and he clapped his left hand over his mouth. He had meant to do it with both, but instead, his right hand was reaching towards the drawstring pouch worn around his neck. Fuck, Liu even had partial control when letting someone else move the corpus? She really was a prodigy. She fished blindly in the sack before producing a heavy iron needle, and held it between thumb and forefinger. The statues became animate, and growled like hungry guard dogs, balls of fire forming in their mouths. But Liu held Lykomedes fast, even while he willed with all of his might to run for it, and drew the needle point-first towards the right eye.

Oh no, oh nononono, Lykomedes thought as Liu pierced her own eye, while he had to watch and feel the whole time. Blood filled half of his vision, and he felt the pain and the nausea. He desperately wanted to blink, but was paralyzed, feeling the blood trickle down his cheek. The statues approached, but as the blood that filled his gaze fell from Liu’s chin to the floor, a shadow sprung from where the droplet landed, and stretched as far as the blood in the eye saw, encompassing the two enchanted statues.

At first, nothing happened. But then, he saw it—a great tiger, with a body of smoke and stripes of pure darkness, and eyes that were a burning red ruby of forest fire—it appeared in the shadow before him, and he saw the demon that Liu had leashed, and was, for the first time, completely terrified of the young spirit mage, and the sin that she had committed. Then he blinked, and the tiger was gone, and so was the shadow, and the needle in Liu’s hand. The hsieh-chi were back on their pedestals, as tame and inanimate as stone. Lykomedes walked forward, towards the table. He smelled ash, like the remains of a wildfire, but that was all that remained of Liu Bukian’s horrible shadow. He gulped, and held his right eye shut as he rushed to the table.

“What happened?” Sun said, a little thickly. “It was like I got slurped back into the well. I’m glad I didn’t have to watch the eye-poke though, I hate when she does that.”

“Nevermind that, just tell me which scrolls I’m supposed to grab.” Lykomedes said, trying to will the tremulous panic out of his voice.

“That one, and that one. They’re supposed to be enchanted, so you just rip out the paper and it’ll make a copy.”

“Right, good.” Lykomedes ripped the copies of the train and port logs. “Now, where do I stuff them?”

“Wrap them around your arms and keep the sleeves down. Do the tuck if you have to.”

“Done, done. Now let’s get the hell out of this place.” Lykomedes said, speeding towards the door as quickly as Liu’s legs would carry him.

 

Liu wanted to pull her collar over her nose in the foreign quarter alleyway they had ducked inside. She was cramped next to Pestrikates, hiding behind a dumpster and inspecting the spoils of her plunder. “…Satisfactory,” she said, rolling the scroll copies and the high-level imperial practitioner list together. “I will compare these two lists and by morning, we’ll know which imperial practitioners have arrived in Kios recently. From there, we can extrapolate who can instantiate and control an Axe Kingdom Stillmother ghost. When did the murders start?”

“Three weeks ago we found the first two bodies. Priests of Kadros, middle-aged—they were in line to be corpus vessels—but they had decomposed a bit. A different psychometrist than me pulled as much information as she could off of them, but they’d been scrubbed as well. They hadn’t been gored to the level as Astratha though.”

“That’s because they were seeds, offerings to summon the stillmother. Any mothers who had recently lost a child to miscarriage or stillbirth murdered? Suicide too, that’s actually preferable if you’re summoning her spirit as a phantom.”

“I don’t have the exact statistics on suicides,” Pestrikates said, rubbing at his chin. “You may have to check with the fertility temple.”

“The lack of centralization in your local government is shocking.” Liu snarked.

“If you don’t like it, get out of our country, you imperial dog,” Pestrikates said, without any real malice.

Liu continued, “It’s those spell talismans I want to know about. Are they controllers? Limiters? Why did she have antlers?” She put a hand to her mouth in consternation. “A regional variation?”

“All of this is so far over my head, baby sky gods are using it to wean,” Pestrikades said. “I deal in practical magic, traces left through time. This liminal nonsense just wasn’t taught at the university.”

Liu finished her considerations, putting the roll of paper into her pocket. “We’ll know more in the morning,” she said, with an air of finality.

“Thank the gods,” Lykomedes said. “Now, time for my reward.”

“You didn’t actually promise him free use of your body,” Sun said hysterically. “Please tell me you did not promise Lykomedes to take your body on a joyride to a filthy Kionian whorehouse.”

“He gave me an address of a place he needed to visit from his life, and I didn’t see any reason to object,” Liu shrugged. “He said it was a matter of ‘dire spiritual significance,’ who was I to argue?”

“Oh, it is,” Lykomedes  said, rubbing his hands together.

“Nononononono—no. Liu, you can’t let him do this.”

“Why are you complaining?” Lykomedes said. “It’s not your body.”

“But I LIVE here!” Sun groaned. "Or, reside—whatever, you know what I mean!"

“You can hide in the well. I’ll be there if he does anything potentially harmful, but for the rest of the night after we leave the foreign quarter, he’s in control. I’ll be keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything that could jeopardize us.” Liu made sure to point to her bloodied, watery eye for emphasis.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Pestrikates said as he turned to leave but Lykomedes blocked off the exit to the alleyway, and Pestrikates stopped, not knowing for sure if he could simply walk through the ghost. “Oh no you don’t. You’re my plus one, remember? We need to pay you back for your help tonight, I can’t have poor Liu feeling like she owes you one.”

Liu nodded. “Agreed. I don’t want to owe you one. Plus, you can help pay for entry into whatever awful place Lykomedes drags you to. I hope I can rely on you to keep him in line, detective?”

The lieutenant blanched. “Are you sure? You want me to…see you…your...” He gestured to her body vaguely.

She sighed. “My body is not a temple. It is a halfway house for spirits, and the rent is cheap for a good reason. I’m not going to show false modesty on your account.”

“What about on MY account?” Sun roared helplessly.

“Fantastic! Then it’s settled—let’s get where we need to go, Pesky, for I have such sights to show you!” Lykomedes said, before approaching Liu and saying, very quietly, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, Bukian, but…you’ve bought me for a little bit, I’ll say. You’ve impressed me today, by showing me exactly what you meant by having a big fuck-off tiger on a leash—let’s hope that’s not the only big fuck-off surprise you have in store for me tonight.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about sometimes,” Liu said, and begrudgingly entered her inner shelter, vowing to someday do something very horrible and likely irreversible to Lykomedes’ soul.

 

“This is it…” Lykomedes said, rubbing his hands together as he and Pestrikates rounded the corner. “The best little whorehouse in Kios, Madame Kassad’s House of Titillating Sensations. Ring any bells, detective?”

“It does, actually…” said Pesky, scratching his chin.

“Ah, I knew you were a connoiswhore when I first clapped eyes on you,” Lykomedes said, playfully swatting at the detective's butt as he stopped at the familiar address. “Men, women, everything in between, all of them gorgeous and desperate to fill you with as much intoxicants and—ehem—as you like, all for the price of…what the fuck is this?”

The building that had once been Madame Kassad’s House of Titillating Sensations which stood before them had been replaced with a small movie theater, with a flashing marquis outlining the featured films.

“Yeah, now I remember.” Pestrikates said, “The C.A.E. shut the whorehouse down after they found out they’d been peddling drugs that were illegal under the armistice.”

Lykomedes fell to his knees and cried, “THAT SKINNY IMPERIAL BITCH TRICKED ME! IS NOTHING IN THIS WORLD SACRED? You, you Civil Authority bastards and the damn Imperials! You’ve ruined everything! I was going to get drunk, high, and whatever’s in this scrawny bitch’s pants sucked and now I have to settle for a fucking picture show?”

“Relax. Movies are really much better since you've died. Also, nobody really calls them ‘picture shows’ anymore.” Pestrikates said, patting Lykomedes gently. “Come on, I’ll buy concessions, you pick a film.” He gestured beseechingly at the panel of posters plastered on the high front partition of the building.

“Oooh, Travelings of the Evening Star Dragon 3: A Moon-Kissed Lotus is showing!” Sun said, unhelpful as always. “I never got to see the second one, I hope the princess got her husbands back!”

Lykomedes wiped his face, pouting. “I’m not sitting through a three hour romance picture about characters I don’t care about in a language I don’t speak!”

“Yeah, sorry Sun, I don’t go for Imperial cinema unless it’s got martial arts in it,” Pestrikates said apologetically.

“I must agree with the searchman, Sun,” Hahn said, her arms crossed.

“Were movies even a thing when you were alive?”

“They were, although…I’ve never actually seen one before,” Hanh admitted. “However, I have been told that in a modern film, you can see a man getting punched so hard his head flies off. I would like to see this.”

“Philistines! The lot of you!” Sun shouted.

“I personally enjoy a good plot and some good effects myself,” said the detective. “What does Liu like to watch?”

Sun thought for a moment. “Weird stuff. The stressful kind of movie, or really artsy fartsy stuff about practicioners going through withdrawals or exploring too deep into forbidden magic and getting turned into horrible monsters or sentient goo something. Usually the more disturbing and gooey, the better.”

“Why am I not surprised…”

“Fuck all of that!” Lykomedes shouted. “I have the perfect one for us.” He pointed towards a poster for a film titled The Legend of Kasseus, depicting a sculpted man holding aloft the head of a gorgon, with a satyr and a woman in shockingly diaphanous robes swooning before him and some stormcloud with a face looking down at the whole affair with rage in its eyes.

“Awww, an action movie? I don’t want to watch some meathead Aeolan dropping hammy one-liners for an hour and a half, where’s the heart?”

“Obviously you’ve never read your classics, my dear Bukian!” Lykomedes said, rising from the ground. “In the legend, Kasseus of Arkonia is pursued by both a satyr and a love goddess—when his real heart belongs to a wind sylph for whom he can only communicate with through his lute songs.”

“A love triangle? Okay, I’m listening…” Sun mused.

“And action? In the books, Kasseus breaks boulders with his bare hands, pummels skeletons into dust with wicked roundhouse kicks, and duels a pack of dervishes with a sword in each his hands and one in his mouth!”

“Swords? I’m in.” Hanh said. She was a blessedly simply woman.

“And plot? Effects? My dear detective, is this not one of the greatest Aeolan stories ever told, brought to us in dazzling magichrome from the studio that produced the film The Wife of Kyrkylas, in which I have a cameo as myself?!”

“If I recall correctly, your bust is in one push-in shot in the mage’s hall at the university of Glaukaria for like three seconds, and that hardly counts as a cameo,” Pestrikates mused. “But yeah, Blades and Buskins has done some pretty great effects in the past…”

“And for my take of the prize, Kasseus beds all of his suitors at once in one of the most graphically erotic scenes in Aeolan classic romance, and I’ll get to see it all in color,” Lykomedes smirked. “And by the gods, look at that actor playing him! There’s no way he could have realistically snuck up on the gorgon in the legend with all that cake! She would’ve heard the clap of those cheeks from leagues away.”

Sun asked, “And what about Liu?”

“Liu gets to watch us all enjoy the perfect movie through a bloody eye, so she’ll have plenty of fun bitching about it all morning. Everybody wins!”

And that was how Lykomedes persuaded the ghosts and the detective to watch one of the most raunchy, bloody, funny, and erotic films of that summer, all while Liu fumed at the plot inconsistencies and historical inaccuracies from inside her own head.