~*~*~*~*~
Somewhere, somehow, someone in this city is having a worse week than I am. Ryou leaned his head on his hand as he settled at the Bayside Park picnic table. But not by much.
Malicious snickering still echoed through his mind, courtesy of one long-dead, aggravating as a gym coach with a toothache, damnable tomb robber. //Heh heh heh.... "I'm not a sorcerer. I can't do magic. I don't remember Egypt." And the second you stress him enough - "hearing Shadow's kiss", indeed. Oh yes, Seto. He heard. Anyone with ears to hear heard you call on the Shadow Realm... just as anyone with eyes to see knows you're the pharaoh's creature now....//
"You didn't have to rub his nose in it, yami," Ryou mumbled into his hand, remembering the way Yugi's words had tripped over each other as he tried to head off the verbal explosion, the cold rage on Seto's face as the CEO dropped them all off within screaming distance of Solomon's hotel. It still felt odd, hearing Ancient Egyptian as easily as English or Japanese.
Though possibly the strangest part of sharing his mind and body with the Ring's spirit was how it was beginning to not be odd, anymore. Rain was wet. Sodas were sweet. School was tedious.
And Bakura was a constant, night and fire and homicidal glee presence woven into his soul. Snickering.
//Hah! Kaiba's marked and he knows it, hikari. You saw the Horus Eye on his locket, clear as I did. Yami has him - and the pharaoh never lets go. Not of anything. Not of anyone.//
Ryou shivered against the misty wind, recalling that subtle sense of the Puzzle's magic echoing from Kaiba. "Yami doesn't own him!" Not like you sometimes think you own me....
Bakura snorted, taking just enough control of their body to scan the park for suspicious characters. Besides the short pair now approaching their claimed table. //I do own you, baka. Much as we both might wish otherwise. Ka and ba, we're stuck with each other, just like the pharaoh and his damn hikari.//
"Ryou?" Yugi rested a hand on the corner of the picnic table, spiked hair tilted in gentle question. "Are you planning to stay?"
//Are we, yami?//
The Ring was silent.
"For now, I think," Ryou sighed. "If you don't mind, Mouto-san?"
"I'd feel better if you did, frankly." The smile flashed white against the older man's gray beard. "From all I've heard Bakura's a resourceful fellow, but anyone can find themselves in difficulty in a foreign country. I certainly have, and I've been in the States often enough to speak American English."
A quiet snarl echoed in the corridor of Ryou's soul rooms. //Hmph. English is English.//
//It's not, and you know it, yami,// Ryou corrected hesitantly. //You wouldn't have... used the accent of Thebes when you were trying to pass unnoticed in Kush, would you?//
The tomb robber snorted. //Hikari, I'd have had as much chance of passing unnoticed in Kush as a single turquoise counter in a tray full of ebony. Accent or no accent.//
"Still, I'll ask that neither of you listen in on my conversation with Dr. Sandburg," Solomon went on, turning a serious gaze on Yugi. "The Hayashibara texts aren't widely accessible. We may be speaking on some confidential matters in his field."
"Hayashibara texts?" Ryou tried to look innocent, even as curiosity woke and sparked. If this were in any way related to Ellison and Sandburg... his yami had heard some intriguing stories of that pair, indeed.
"A very old work, by an herbalist named Matsu," Solomon elaborated. "No one thought it was very important; it starts out with herbal lore and astronomical observations as applied to various people he treated, in a form that indicates it might have been written for reference in judicial trials. But a friend of mine recently went back to do a more thorough translation, and, well... nowadays we might call it a case notebook. It specifically recounts various matters Matsu looked into while assisting his companion, the samurai Harue. If it weren't for the obvious folkloric elements woven into the text, it could be a significant account of sixteenth-century criminal investigation."
"Folkloric?" Yugi prompted. "You mean, magic?"
"You could think of it that way. Harue's recorded as having found a thread of scarlet cloth in an orchard of fallen leaves. Scenting a drop of fugu left on the scene by a fleeing ninja. Falling for a kitsune involved in a plot against another lord. Being led by ghosts to a young woman's corpse, spirits Matsu laid to rest once their duty was done...." Solomon gave him a very young grin. "Of course, any proper anthropologist would know none of that could ever have happened, wouldn't he?"
Ryou couldn't help but laugh. Spirits had been part of his life since his father had given him the Ring. So much for folktales not being real.
"Yami says it sounds familiar, but he can't place it." Yugi looked down, frustrated once more by the scattered shreds of the pharaoh's memory. "He says... Harue should have been watching the stars?"
//Saew-seba,// Bakura murmured. //It could well be.//
"Saew-seba?" Ryou repeated, puzzled.
//And if Matsu wasn't his seshem, I'll eat that annoying concoction you call ketchup.//
"Saew-seba and seshem." Yugi's eyes were distant, a flash of scarlet there and gone in violet. "The Guard of Stars and his Guide. Those who... watch for the danger...." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Grandpa. We can't find it."
Ryou felt the first warning tug on his spirit, forced his hand away from the Ring. //Yami! You promised!//
Bakura growled, pacing the corridor between their soul rooms. //I said if you didn't fight me, I wouldn't force you out of control, so long as we weren't in danger. Which we will be, if the old man slips and says something he shouldn't! Do you want them not to know, yadonushi? Yami's in as much peril as we are. More, likely. The baka pharaoh might not realize a Star-guard could be an enemy until it was too late!//
//...All right.//
Bakura stretched, luxuriating in the feel of a body willingly yielded. Chuckled malevolently at the sudden tension radiating from a form that was no longer Yugi's. "Truce, pharaoh. If Sandburg's seshem enough to want those texts, you'll need to avoid him just as much as I."
"What do you mean?"
Fingers clenched on painted wood, violet eyes suddenly darkened as if lined with kohl... oh yes. Definitely Yami. Though for once, the King of Games seemed to be hovering on the edge of polite. "Unlike you, pharaoh, I don't travel without checking the underground's tales first. And most of those whispered from Cascade revolve around two detectives: Ellison and Sandburg." Bakura smirked at Solomon. "It's said since Ellison first picked up that anthropologist as a ride-along, he can see things he shouldn't. Find evidence that should have been lost and buried. Track better than the department bloodhounds. Perhaps this sounds familiar?"
The pharaoh looked through him, eyes almost closed as he searched out what Tristan swore were only shattered scraps of memory. "Saew-seba and seshem. Gifted to enforce ma'at, in this world and the next...."
"You're saying Dr. Sandburg may be able to affect spirits." Solomon rested a hand on his satchel of notes, looked away.
"And you're not surprised." A low growl rumbled in Bakura's throat. "What do you know, old man?"
//Bakura!// Ryou said warningly.
//I will not walk unarmed into danger, hikari!// came the vicious snarl. //Not for you. Not for anyone! You heard Yugi's tale of Bayville; you know what will happen if anyone severs us!//
Oh yes, he knew. Bakura would be trapped, as Yami almost had been; fighting for hours to find Yugi before the Puzzle could draw him back inside itself and leave their body tenantless and dying. The Ring would become a cold, empty prison once more, a place of shadows and darkness that had all but driven Bakura mad the first time it had seized his spirit. And Ryou....
I'd be lost again. Ryou huddled in the center of his soul room, not even able to take comfort from the soft-winged Change of Heart plush-toy by his side. The way I was before I ever picked up the Ring, when I'd ache inside and never know why. Lonely, and... no magic, and... empty....
//It won't happen.// Grim determination, wrapping around their link like a steely caress, a kiss of bloodstained lips. //I won't let it happen. You're mine.//
Ryou rolled mental eyes. And you say the pharaoh's possessive.
"I have reason to believe that Sandburg's family has a history of magic," Solomon said carefully. "And of interacting with spirits. Outside of that, Bakura, I know very little. That's why I wanted to meet him instead of simply sending these accounts through the mail." He sighed, checking his watch. "They'll be here soon. How far away do you think you need to be, to be safe?"
Gold flashed, and Yugi looked back at them. "Yami thinks out of sight should do, but..."
"It should," Bakura acknowledged grudgingly. "We need to avoid the Guide, not the Guard. Ellison will know you and Ryou were here, any creature that can trail me across the desert for two weeks couldn't fail to miss that. But the Guard needs to be face to face to see a spirit. He should miss us if we're not in control."
"And Blair Sandburg?" Solomon's gaze was troubled.
Amber eyes narrowed. "I don't know," Bakura bit out. "The last time I encountered a Guide, I was embodied. The Items cloak the spirits within them. To a degree. I believe he missed us in the hospital."
"Either that, or he didn't, and this is a trap," Yugi added, stepping back from the table. "Be careful, Grandpa."
Bakura smirked as he retreated to the Ring. //Looks like the pharaoh's rubbing off on his little hikari. About time. No one should be that innocent.//
//Oh, grow up,// Ryou said crossly, flexing his fingers just to be sure he had control. //You don't Duel if you can't see traps coming.// He drew in a damp breath, delightfully surprised at one of the scents carried on the wind. "Is that hot dogs?"
Yugi craned his head down the path, trying to catch a glimpse of what might be going on past screening trees. "I think so."
"Go on," Solomon smiled as his grandson hugged him. "I'll be fine. Whatever else they are, they are police officers." His hand caught Yugi's before it could trace a symbol. "And no warding spells, Yami. If he can sense magic on me, all I want him to find is mine."
Yugi blushed.
~*~*~*~*~
Fierce arms crossed. Teeth ground. "I don't like it."
"Jim." Blair sighed, casting a glance toward the small old man waiting by the picnic table half a clearing away. "If we want some answers, we've got to start somewhere."
The sentinel drew in a sniff of air. "Yugi and Ryou were here. Recently." He cocked an ear in a direction Blair thought was probably north. Or east. Or something like that. "They're getting hot dogs."
"Gee. Sound like dangerous teenage maniacs to me," Blair muttered. "Will you relax?"
The detective glared. "Mouto just happens to have a text on Japanese sentinels, and you want me to relax?"
"First off, he doesn't just happen to have it," Blair pointed out patiently. "Eli asked him to look for something like this a few months ago. Solomon Mouto's pretty well known in Japanese anthropological and archaeological circles. He used to work as a hand on a couple of Egyptian digs; there's a solid rumor he even funded one by poker games."
That snapped Jim out of sensory-search mode. Blue eyes shot him a disbelieving glance. "You're kidding."
"Hey, in the early nineteen-hundreds, a paleontologist down in South America did the same thing," Blair grinned. "Who knows what quests for knowledge may ride on the turn of a card?"
"So that's how you keep killing us on Friday nights."
"Naomi calls it a gift," Blair shrugged. His wayward, redheaded mother always had a wistful look when she said that; as if she saw not his hands shuffling the deck, but someone else's.
But then she'd smile, and tease him about pushing his luck, and start asking if his colleagues in the academic world had done any research into how often past life regressions pulled up Egyptian memories, and wouldn't that actually be more likely than less? Egypt had been such a stable empire for so long, after all; so many souls might have lived there, to journey on into today.
Yeah, right. Actually statistically compile the claimed ethnicity of past lives? Mom, you overestimate the scientific mind. "Anyway. Mouto may run a game shop now, but he still joins in some pretty hefty discussion groups, especially when it comes to legends of people dealing with spirits. If anybody was going to run across a Sentinel story, he would."
"And second?"
Blair glanced toward Mouto. "Does he look dangerous?"
Jim sighed. "Let's go."
I can see where Yugi got his height, Blair thought, approaching the smaller man. And his hair. Under his black cap, Solomon's soft gray hair stuck out in the same unruly, spiky waves that defied gravity on his grandson's head. A satchel of notes rested on the picnic table, and short, broad hands toyed with the top buttons of his navy-blue coat, opening enough of a gap to Cascade's thin afternoon warmth for Blair to catch a glimpse of white shirt under his scarf.
Nervous, Blair thought, feeling his partner tense. Why? "Mr. Mouto?
A smile creased the older man's violet eyes as he took Blair's hand American-style. "Solomon, if you will, Dr. Sandburg. And your friend would be?"
"Jim Ellison." The detective wasn't looming, exactly. But Blair could still see a tightness in his jaw.
"Blair's fine." The anthropologist shook and let go, curious despite himself about the thick manuscript he could see peeking out of the corner of the bag. "This is it?"
"Copies, yes," Solomon affirmed, pulling out various bound pages. "You'll understand, there was no way the current holders would let the originals out of the country."
"Hey, I can't blame 'em." Blair opened a page, running fingers over the unfamiliar shapes of the ancient Japanese script. "Have you read this?"
"In translation, yes." Solomon chuckled. "I'm afraid old Japanese isn't my area of expertise. Now if it were hieratic, I wouldn't have a problem, but... well. The grass always does seem greener elsewhere, doesn't it?"
Jim studied the game shop owner. "You've spent a lot of time abroad."
"Years, now and again," Solomon admitted. "Though I haven't been out of Domino City for quite some time. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be on the road again." His violet gaze swept the park, drinking in the sights of a place an ocean away from Japan. Returned to Blair. "Will this be helpful in your research? Naomi said there had been some difficulties, though she didn't elaborate-"
"You know my mom?" Blair blurted, hearing an almost subliminal rumble from his partner. "I thought Eli asked you-" He swallowed. Mom, you got mixed up with my thesis once. What have you done now?
"Dr. Stoddard did contact me," Solomon said warily, eyes flicking up to the angry detective behind Blair. "After Naomi asked him if there was anything she could do to make amends. For what, he didn't tell me. Nor would she; after she determined I was who I said I was, she gave me your address, and last I could locate her she was on retreat up in Canada. I've been trying to call her, but I suspect her current refuge doesn't allow phones."
Ellison drew in a deep breath, ice-chip eyes narrowed-
Oh man, you are so not dissing my mom. Even if she did something so - you're just not, Jim. Leave it. Please?
And Jim stopped, and let the breath go. Studied Solomon all over again, as if he weren't quite sure what he was seeing. His shoulders stiffened, but his voice stayed level. "We missed each other in the hospital."
"So we did," Solomon acknowledged. "It's just as well. I don't think..." He sighed. "This is harder to say than I thought." Drawing his coat around him, he settled on the bench, leaning back against the table wearily. "Detective, if you could perhaps give us a few moments...."
"I'm family." Jim laid a hand on his shoulder. "Blair. Sit down."
"Jim?" What's going on?
A firm shove planted him on the far end of the bench. "You didn't want Yugi to know." Ellison's tone was careful as Joel examining a booby trap.
"The last year has been - difficult," Solomon acknowledged. "He's seventeen. Some of his friends were in... accidents, recently. Most recently this morning, as you well know. And while everyone's safe now, I didn't want to unload this on him on top of everything else. Not until I'd had some time..." He met the detective's gaze frankly. "Is it that obvious?"
Jim's smile was wry. "Only if you know what you're looking for."
"Jim?" Blair asked, more forcefully. You're freaking me out, partner.
Jim squeezed his shoulder gently. "I think Solomon's got a story for you."
"Where to start." Solomon folded his hands in front of him. "Well. Many years ago, there was a wandering young gambler. A blot on his family, one might say; but they loved him, and never gave up hope that he would eventually return to be the honest, upright son his parents expected. Though all who knew the young man swore it would take a miracle." Solomon dropped them both a wry wink. "But miracles do happen! One day when he was wandering through Tokyo in search of yet another game, he saw a vision that must have been sent from Kuan Yin herself. A quiet young lady with hair like a fall of midnight, and a voice like an angel strayed from heaven. Her name was Ai. And he brought her home, and they married, and had a handsome son, and were very, very happy."
Blair caught the bittersweet cant of the older man's shoulders, and swallowed. "Miracles... don't always last."
"No. No, they don't," Solomon nodded. "The gambler's family was known for luck, but earthquakes... well, earthquakes are more chance than luck. So he was... I was... left with a grief too deep for words, and a growing son whose every feature echoed my beloved Ai." Solomon sighed. "So I left him with my family, and I roamed the world once more. Gambling my way as I went; games are like breath to me, I rarely lose. It's a - family trait."
"Uh-huh," Jim nodded, not surprised. "And you came to America."
"Eventually, yes."
Blair switched his gaze between both of them. "Okay, somebody want to clue me in here?"
"He's getting to it, partner."
Houston, we have Jim in soothing mode, Blair realized, confused. This is never good.
Solomon swallowed dryly, bringing out an old, worn photograph. "She was young, and she was following her heart, and she smiled at me like dawn and rainbows. Both of us knew it wouldn't last, but the week was all we wanted. Just time to heal. Just arms to hold, and another heart beside you that had been broken, and peace." He leaned forward, hands cradling the image. "Then she went her way, and I mine, and I didn't return to Japan until my family told me they were about to start arranging marriage dates for Ai's son. And if I wanted any say in the matter - if I didn't want to be dead to the family forever - I'd come home right now."
Blair couldn't breathe. The girl in the photo with her arms around a much younger, magenta-haired Solomon was young, and redheaded, and had a smile he knew as well as his own. Oh.
"But I made a mistake."
No.
"I left Naomi addresses, numbers with which to contact me... but I was always moving. All I'd given her went to my family first."
Please, no.
"And they told her I was dead." Large eyes - so familiar, only the color was unfamiliar - sought his own. "Blair, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Until Naomi contacted Eli, until he thought of me, and she recognized my name... I didn't know."
This can't be happening. "J-jim?"
His partner nodded, brushed a subtle finger near his nose. "I think so, Chief."
I can't breathe. I can't....
And his partner's hand was pushing his head down near his knees, the detective's usual hard tone softened to the voice he used with shocked victims. "In and out, Blair. Keep it slow. In. Out. In...."
Focus, Blair told himself. I am letting this go. I am letting this go... the hell I am! "You came here. You came here with this-" he thumped a hand on the bound pages, "-to tell me you're my father?"
Solomon winced. "Yes," he said softly.
Oh god.
"And I came here to get Yugi out of Domino City for a while," Solomon went on. "Not that trying seems to have done me any good, given that Ryou and the Kaibas ended up here... Detective?"
Jim's hand squeezed on his, as Blair saw the focussed tilt of head that meant his sentinel was listening to something. "How the hell did your grandson find a giant snake in Cascade?"
~*~*~*~*~
"Hmm. I thought it was down this corridor...." Yami paced the twisting halls of his soul room, questing after the whisper of a memory, an echo that said seshem. So much of his past, hidden from his view. So much that felt simply lost, gather what shards he might.
At times he didn't know if he'd reclaimed true memories, or simply conjured shadows from the fragments he and Yugi had gathered from enemies and so-called allies alike. He thought he'd been a good person, a good pharaoh, and yet....
Such hate around the Millennium Items. So many seeking the power of the Puzzle that held him, the magic only the pharaoh's reborn Light had rightful claim to. Could a good man have been the cause of such misery?
Bakura's charge that the Items had been formed by dark magic had shaken him to the core. More when Tristan's memories seemed to confirm its truth.
Yet Tristan claims I did not know. That I myself set Tetien, his past life, to the task of uncovering the truth. I could not have done so and been guilty of such crimes.
Could I?
"Snake," echoed through the Puzzle, a shivery echo from the outside world. Yugi's voice. Yugi's trembling, tugging on his link, even as his hikari mustered his courage to face the danger.
"Big snake...." Ryou's gulp, and an echo of ebony magic-
Yami's head snapped up, search forgotten. The tomb robber was awake! If he'd harmed-
//Help!!!//
Yu-Gi-Oh!
And they were as one, facing a creature that should not have been.
A thirty-foot emerald python wrapped massive coils around a park sign, scaled wings flapping to raise its head above the height of a man. Fangs tore into metal, spitting out a shredded Beautified by Questscape, Pres-
//Sinister Serpent,// Yugi murmured as Yami drew back, dimly aware of Bakura circling the other way, dagger in hand. //Attack 300, Defense 250. Not a strong monster....//
But we can't use magic, aibou. Not if we wish to pass unnoticed. Yami slipped a hand into his coat, plucking out the strongest of the knives Grandpa had finally relented and allowed them to carry. Tristan had helped there, pointing out that the Yami he remembered had been almost as good with a blade as Bakura... and much as Yugi tried to avoid fighting, danger would not stop looking for them. Not every foe was vulnerable to a Mind Crush.
Duel Monsters, for one. And that's a very big snake.
A snake currently preoccupied with crushing the sign to twisted metal, before uncurling to thrash through the path, hurling dirt and clods of turf into the air. Hate rippled from each flex of scaled muscle, radiated like choking heat.
//Yami, is that-?//
Energy, gathering to touch the Shadow Realm, Yami nodded, circling nearer. Keeping track of Bakura out of the corner of his eye as the tomb robber moved in as well. For once they had a common goal. One Serpent was peril enough. If there were two....
"Set's teeth, who called that thing?" Bakura snarled.
Serpent eyes glowed ruby. A red tongue flicked, lunged-
Isis, it's fast!
And the world narrowed to emerald coils crushing Bakura, massive jaws lunging down-
Yami leaped, seized a scaled wing. Climbed thrashing muscle, clinging onto the emerald neck for dear life as the Serpent forgot biting in its efforts to fling him clear. Oh, Ra....
A stream of choked Egyptian profanity hit his ears. He heard Bakura's dagger bite into tender flesh; the Serpent hissed, coiled tighter, whipped out-
And a white bolt of pain impacted Yami's back; jagged remnants of the signpost tearing his coat, catching in his leather shirt. Ahhh!
Enough!
Legs tangled around emerald neck and wings, Yami slipped one arm under the fanged jaws. Picked his spot, and thrust-
The Serpent shrieked like tearing metal, violet mist boiling out from where Yami's knife had pierced the base of its spine. Wailed, muscle and bone turning faint and insubstantial as a dawn breeze....
Shimatta!
Yami hit the ground rolling, avoiding his own blade by a hand's breadth.
//Erk.// Yugi gazed out of his eyes, watching very carefully as Yami wiped dirt and fading Shadows from steel. //Um... maybe we better not tell Grandpa about that one?//
No argument here, aibou. Yami sheathed his knife, drawing a deep breath. He was in no real hurry to get up; the ground was lumpy, but comfortable. Though... where in the worlds had the tomb robber gotten to?
His perch vibrated with a cough. "Get off me, pharaoh!"
//Oops.//
Glaring, Bakura managed to sit up, chest still heaving. He tried to brush bits of leaf and dirt out of his hair, a breathless stream of curses whispering from him as twigs snagged in silver knots. "Baka pharaoh... never knows when to run... damn fool...."
"Save your breath. Ryou needs it." Yami snagged the fingers of one hand in silver locks, used the other to reach for the most tangled bits of shrubbery. "Hold still."
A pale hand dove for a blade. "You dare-!"
Yami forced himself not to react. "You know I won't harm Ryou, Bakura. Hold still, unless you want Solomon attacking your hair with a comb and scissors tonight."
The silver head froze. "A low blow, pharaoh. Even for you."
Yami began working a twig out of a white knot. "Would you feel better if Yugi took over?"
Bakura's snarl vibrated under his fingers. "I prefer my enemies where I can see them."
//So I'm not an enemy?// Yugi leaned against the wall of his soul room, smiling wistfully. //I guess that's something. Think we're getting somewhere?//
A smirk crept onto Yami's face as he teased out the last bits of debris, avoiding the razor wire Bakura kept hidden in Ryou's hair. He kept his fingers moving in the drift of silver, drawing Yugi within his mind as together they sought out tense knots of muscle along the tomb robber's neck. Possibly, aibou. Just possibly. After all, look.
//Aww... kawaii!// Yugi grinned as Bakura unconsciously leaned back into the subtle massage, amber eyes losing some of their feral fire. //How'd you know this would work?//
Believe me, it works. Especially on one who thinks he can seal a piece of his soul in the Puzzle and not be affected by our bond. Yami shared his hikari's grin. Try it on Tea sometime.
//...// Shy embarrassment rushed up their link, colored by a vivid image of Tea Gardner leaning into the same gentle touch; the dancer's dark hair drifting over his hands, blue eyes closed and smiling. //...Um....//
Or you could practice on Joey. He could use a little stress relief.
//!!!// Yami felt his aibou dive under a pile of plush toys in his soul room, blushing madly. //Yami! Mai would kill us!//
Why? We're friends. Don't friends comfort one another in this modern world?
//Yaaamiiii!// Exasperated violet eyes blinked out of a pile of plush. //Forget Mai! Any second now Bakura's going to realize you already got the twigs out, and then he's going to kill us!//
He could try. Chuckling, Yami drew his fingers out of soft silver-
And felt a very quiet, very familiar presence disturbing the Puzzle, accompanied by a subtle tremor of magic he'd felt only once before. //Bakura, get Ryou out here! Yugi, take over-//
"Freeze, Cascade PD!"
"Detective!" Solomon tried to get in front of Detective Ellison, only to be drawn back by a pale and shaken Blair Sandburg. "That's my grandson!"
"Solomon, that's not Yugi." Blair was staring at them both, cell phone in a white-knuckled grip. "Don't ask me how, but it's not Yugi. And it's definitely not Ryou."
Damn. Instinct told him to stay in control, call the Shadows, protect his hikari-
But Yami fought that instinct, retreating so Yugi could hold up empty hands toward the nice, helpful, armed policemen. //Be careful, aibou.//
//Always.// "Grandpa?" Yugi blinked, deliberately innocent. "What's going on?"
Solomon let out a breath, even as Yami heard a sigh behind him that meant Ryou was in control once more. "I believe they thought you two were someone else."
"They were," Ellison bit out, quartering the clearing.
"Well, that's one I hadn't heard before." Ryou traded a glance with Yugi, let out a shaky laugh. "Who else could we possibly be?"
"There were two of you," Blair blurted.
"Blair?" Ellison didn't glance up from his scan of the clearing, picking up twisted metal with a dark scowl.
"Just for a second, I could have sworn I saw...." The anthropologist shook his head. "It's crazy."
"Crazy or not, I know what I saw." Ellison glared at both hikaris. "Snakes don't have red glowing eyes. They don't have wings. And they definitely do not just turn into mist and vanish!"
//He saw all that?// Yugi winced. //I didn't think anyone was that close....//
//He likely wasn't,// Yami noted. //Guards have sight better than a Horus falcon.//
"And ozone. I know what I saw. Now you two are going to tell me why I saw it." Ellison holstered his gun, but his gaze was grim.
"You saw a snake with wings vanish." Ryou gave his best embarrassed chuckle. "Really, Detective. What have you been on?"
"Don't try to tell me-"
"They really might not remember, Jim," Blair put in quickly. Studying the two before him a moment more, before he turned to Solomon. "How long have you known they have alters?"
Solomon drew back, a flicker of calculation in his gaze. "What?"
"It's not DID, those were definitely 'others', so... MPD," the anthropologist said frankly. "I don't know what you'd call it in Japan. They've got more than one personality, don't they?" He nodded, taking in the torn clothes, the innocent looks, the general wreck of the area. "Blackouts, partial amnesia, expression of vastly different speech patterns and behavior, referring to self as he or we...."
"All of the above, huh?" Ellison said dryly, eyeing their Grandpa.
//Kill them, send the bodies to the Graveyard, wipe anyone's mind in the area of the fact we were ever here,// whispered through the shadows.
//They're cops, Bakura,// Yami told the Ring's spirit firmly. //There would be an investigation. And they've done nothing to us.//
//Nothing save threaten our very existence! He's a Guide, pharaoh, he has the power to cast spirits out-//
//If they think we're only mental problems, they won't be casting us out of anyone, now will they?//
Silence. //...You are a schemer, pharaoh.// A sense of question. //Ryou agrees.//
//Good.// Yami brushed against his other self. //Yugi?//
//I don't like it!// Stubbornness reached back. //You're a person, Yami, not a-//
//We do what we must so all of us are safe, tenshi. I won't be offended.//
Yugi swallowed. "We... don't like to talk about it," he said softly.
"Yugi-"
"It's okay, Grandpa." He looked up at the taller detective, willing the man to believe. "Yami doesn't hurt anyone unless they come after me first. And Bakura's...."
"Getting better," Ryou put in. "It helps, having someone around who knows what you're going through."
"Getting better." Ellison's eyes narrowed.
"Detective, they're only children," Solomon said firmly.
"Armed kids, Mouto. Who just took down a thirty-foot snake - and I want to know what happened to that snake." The detective nodded toward the park exit. "Let's take this downtown."
~*~*~*~*~
"...And as you can see from our third-quarter estimates, our prospects for the combined program sales are excellent...." The bright young Questscape accountant gestured broadly with her left hand, neat blonde bun barely shifting as she flicked to the next slide.
Seated at the end chair of the meeting table, Seto Kaiba fought back a yawn as the company's board of directors murmured in approval. He knew this tactic, though he'd rarely resorted to it himself. Provide all the relevant information in a form so boring the mind skipped over the important details in self-defense. Not subtle, but often effective.
Meaning they have something to hide, Kaiba thought coolly, finding his gaze drawn once more to the strict, upper-class stiffness of Preston Montgomery. Ever since the man had shown up at practically the last minute, navy silk tie hastily straightened, something about Questscape's VP in charge of Accounts had struck Kaiba as distinctly off.
No concealed weapons, no odd glowing gold objects, no glazed, mind-controlled stare, Kaiba ticked off mentally. I think we can presume we're dealing with a normal threat.
And Montgomery was a threat. He could feel it.
And that has nothing to do with magic, Egypt, or supposed past lives, Kaiba thought, not admitting his relief, even to himself. He was a trained CEO; and here was a man with power, in a company that had already had more than its share of internal shenanigans thanks to ex-company president Norman Ventriss' efforts on behalf of his homicidal son, trying to disguise his department's data. He had every reason to be suspicious.
Mokuba doesn't like him, either.
Not that Mokuba thought executives were fun on the best days. But there was a definite difference between people the twelve-year-old thought needed to loosen up - which included his own brother, from time to time - and those rare individuals Mokuba avoided like the plague.
Such as Malik... no. There's no magic here. No reason to worry about Mokuba wandering the halls, winning secretaries' hearts as he listens for the gossip you won't hear.
Ellison had been dead on, after all. It was amazing what people would say when they thought a cute little kid didn't understand them.
Still. It was risky. The fact that he felt he needed to take that risk, no matter how good this potential deal with Questscape looked on the surface....
They say they've cleaned up their affairs, Kaiba Corporation's CEO thought coldly. Yet look through a few shell corporations, and it's clear Ventriss is still on the board. The man tried to cover up a murder, and they still answer to him?
He did not like it. At all.
Still. Pegasus might have dropped out of sight, but Industrial Illusions was still going strong. And if Kaiba Corp. was going to break into their sections of the North American market, he needed a contract with an American firm. Questscape had looked vulnerable enough to be promising.
Now we need to know if it's too vulnerable.... The conference room door clicked open, and Kaiba held back a sigh of relief. Mokuba. Right on schedule.
Mokuba wearing a frown, and not because of the cool looks he was getting from the interrupted board. Two pairs of blue eyes shared a speaking glance; unruly dark hair tilted toward the hall.
Kaiba closed his laptop with a snap, locking it in his briefcase. Stood, ignoring the choked stammer from the blonde accountant. Outside, behind Mokuba... was that a woman crying? We're not here to solve these people's personal problems.
But Mokuba knew that. If he'd brought the woman here, this was something Kaiba Corp.'s CEO needed to know about-
Something tingled at the edge of his senses, like static and darkness and blazing hate.
Hissss....
"What the hell-!"
And the room filled with shouts and screams, as lightning crackled over the conference table, coalescing into a giant green cobra waving a tail decked with a crackling blue ball of static.
Electric Snake, Kaiba noted automatically. Attack 800, Defense 900, Thunder/Effect....
And he was out of the room, sweeping Mokuba up with one hand and shoving the tear-streaked brunette into a window alcove with his briefcase as screaming executives and assistants tore into the hallway past them. Electricity cracked and snapped; metal shrieked, something whooshed into flame, and ceiling lights flickered.
*We can't help here! You have to get outside!*
I know! Call dragons in here, no, not if he didn't want to bring the ceiling down on all their heads.
Not to mention the fact that he was a world-class Duelist, and this was a lousy three-star Monster, and even one Blue Eyes White Dragon felt like hideous overkill.
Not that there was anything wrong with overkill.
"Mrs. Johnston!" Mokuba tugged on the older woman's lilac suit-dress as smoke started billowing out of the conference room. "Where are the fire extinguishers?"
"I..." Reddened eyes went wide, staring at static-shedding scales as the Snake slithered into the hall. The long tail waved languidly, lightning-ball glittering electric blue with destructive glee. "I-yi-yi...."
The Snake lashed the near wall; Kaiba shoved them both forward before lightning could arc down the circuitry he knew would be woven through the window frame. Sparks crackled behind them; heat dotted his coat. So much for the security system.
"Extinguishers!" Mrs. Johnston shuddered at the wail of the fire alarms, pointed down the hall. "I - but-"
Mokuba's gaze was fixed on the Snake as shrieks spread through the building, offices emptying in a clatter of panicked dress shoes. "So much for fire safety, huh, nii-sama?"
"Just run!" And hope it doesn't follow us, it has no reason to follow us-
Red eyes swiveled toward them. Fangs glinted in the spreading flames. A scaly body coiled.
...Except that we're Duelists, and we're here.
And the Snake arced down the hall after them, eyes aglow, hissing like feral lightning.
We're not going to outrun it. "Go!"
"But-" Mokuba took one look at his brother's ready stance, the deck in his hand, and bolted after Johnston.
The Snake slowed, evidently considering the one human in these corridors not running for its life. A red tongue flickered. The lightning-decked tail waved languidly.
Maybe I've confused its master, Kaiba thought, drawing a five-card hand. But who could be controlling it? I didn't sense anyone who could be a Duelist here....
And hate boiled the air around them both, driving fangs forward. Hiss!
"Likewise." Kaiba snared a card between two fingers, as if he'd slash it across an unsuspecting throat. And smirked. "Dark Zebra!"
Rainbow mist spiraled out from the rug, rising into a horned shape of black-and-white stripes. Razor hooves pawed the carpet, shredding blue pile. The Zebra lowered its head, snorted. Charged-
Attack 1800, Kaiba thought, eyes slit against coruscating sparks as fangs and lightning met hooves and horn. Unless you've equipped your Monster, whoever you are....
Lightning shattered. With an airy squeak, the Snake boiled into violet mist.
I didn't think so. Kaiba swayed, suddenly weary. The crackle of flames was louder than fading shrieks, blending with the alarm's incessant shrill. I think... I might cancel the rest of the meetings today....
Hooves clopped toward him. A velvet nose nuzzled his hand.
"I suppose I'm fortunate you don't hold a grudge," Seto murmured, lacing his fingers into the stiff, striped mane. Recalling one of the last times he'd summoned this Monster, to sacrifice it to Obelisk the Tormentor. No God Cards. Never again. That hunger for more power, that lack of control... worse than the damn Rod.
A horsy snort agreed.
"Seto!" Mokuba was tugging on his arm, fear for his brother overriding the wonder when he looked at the Zebra. The smaller boy coughed. "Seto, come on!"
"Mokuba!" Mrs. Johnston dashed back after the twelve-year-old, extinguisher in hand, jaw dropping at the impossible creature he was pressed against. "Mr. Kaiba! We have to get your brother out of this smoke!"
Right. Smoke. Very bad for computers. Not that good for programmers, either. With a twist of will, Kaiba dismissed the Zebra. Let's see. The exit was-
The direction Mokuba was already dragging him. Of course.
And they were forcing their way through fleeing stragglers, out onto the grass of the neatly-kept lawn.
Good response time on the fire trucks, Kaiba noted absently, hearing sirens wail louder as Mokuba dropped down on the grass near the parking lot. He sat more gracefully, fighting the weariness as he drew in deep breaths of clear air. It wasn't nearly as bad as a Mirror Wall.
Of course not. I attacked, and won. Seto sighed, noting the black spots on his coat where sparks had impacted. And smiled.
The board meeting was shot. Montgomery was hiding something. And somewhere out there was a rogue Duelist nursing a grudge... and one hell of a headache, given the one thousand point difference in Attack strength.
But he'd won.
I could really use a cup of coffee.
~*~*~*~*~
"You're sure Jim and Blair aren't in here somewhere?"
Looking over the smoke-decked bedlam as the Cascade Fire Department hit Questscape, Detective Brian Rafe sighed. People scattered all over the computer company's front lawn. Fire. Possible explosions. And enough raw chaos to set a Cistercian monastery on its ear. "Simon swears they were last seen heading for Bayside Park."
Hat pulled low over his shaved head, Detective Henri Brown shot him an eloquent look. "Uh-huh."
Right. Rafe had lost count of the number of times those two had been supposed to be elsewhere, only to end up smack in the center of the most recent weirdness to strike Cascade. And given their ongoing homicide investigation into Questscape.... "Do you want left or right?"
"Right," Henri nodded, glancing over the hysterical and shaking types near the ambulance. Smoke and water stained more than one executive suit and programmer's tee-shirt; evidently people had had close encounters with the sprinkler system. Yet from what they could see so far, no one looked seriously hurt. Maybe they'd get lucky, and their potential witness would still be in one piece. "You find Mrs. Johnston, sing out."
Rafe braced himself, and stepped into the crowd of survivors.
"Sparks everywhere...."
"Get our online supplier now! Every minute we're down because of that - that thing is lost money. I don't care what condition the offices are in, we need replacement equipment...."
"Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes...?"
"Jenna Johnston? I don't know, Detective, last I saw she was with that Japanese kid. Dude, today has been seriously whacked...." Jake Raine's eyes were caffeine-glazed behind thick lenses, soaked heavy metal tee shirt clinging to the debugger's gym-muscled frame. "First Clark comes down on our Jenna of Java like the wrath of Bill Gates, then the whole place goes berserk...."
"Ethan Clark?" Rafe asked, just to be sure; their last interview had turned up about five Clarks in the company, only two of which were related. He caught Henri heading their way out of the corner of his eye. A shake of his partner's head was enough: no Jenna in sight. "Your and Mrs. Johnston's supervisor?"
"Yeah." Raine scratched the back of his head. "See, I wasn't listening - rude, y'know, plus I had some Minmei on and that kind of drowns things - but I heard her phone ring. She was on it for maybe five minutes, sounded upset. Then she slams out of her cubicle and heads straight for Clark, which I wouldn't do, seeing as the guy hadn't chewed anyone's ass yet today and he was looking mean around the eyes. Kind of Tarentino bad guy, sort of? So she asks for some emergency leave, family stuff."
"And Clark?" Rafe prompted.
"Dude, he went ballistic! I mean, I know we're going to be short-handed on the program wrap-up because of Austell's funeral, but she knew it too! Jenna wouldn't ask if she didn't need that leave right now - and he told her it could wait!"
"Bastard," Henri muttered. Austell Johnston had been slain less than a week ago. And from the initial interviews, they knew the accountant's daughter had been almost as crushed as her mother. Corinna Johnston might well have gotten herself in trouble that needed her mother there to straighten it out.
"You said it." Raine glared toward the knot of upper management over by the paramedics. "Jenna just went white. Even the kid saw it. He went up to her cubicle after Clark turned his back, and got her to go with him."
"Kind of strange, don't you think, Mr. Raine?" Henri searched the crowd as firefighters started filtering out of the building, smoky and triumphant. "A kid wandering around Questscape on his own?"
"Nah." Raine waved it off. "He's the little bro' of the guy the board's talking to. Some kind of major-pull Japanese exec. The kids get leeway."
Little brother of a Japanese executive visiting Questscape. Rafe felt his heart sink. Oh no.
Department gossip moved fast as cell-phone signals. By now half the cops on the street had heard about the two Japanese kids who'd walked out of an Ellison-Sandburg-perp dustup without a scratch. And the odd pair that had shown up as reinforcements. Though Rafe was fairly sure only Major Crimes knew one of those kids had left a message on Blair's answering machine.
"And that's when things got really weird," Raine rushed on. "I mean, we had the alarms going off, the power going crazy. Got run over in the hall, and when I got up-" The debugger shook his head in disbelief. "Some young guy, in a purple trench coat - he was just standing there, Detective. Just watching that snake come at him."
"Snake?" Rafe asked, trying to appear casual. Inwardly groaning; anyone who'd faced down Ellison was no one he wanted to tangle with. There can't be two purple trench coats in Cascade.
"Big green cobra, covered with lightning - dude, it was warped!" The debugger shuddered. "I was thinking hologram, you know? Kaiba Corp.'s supposed to have the best, that's why the bigwigs want the contract. But holograms don't throw sparks, and then-" An incredulous shake of head. "You're not going to believe this."
"You'd be surprised, Mr. Raine," Henri said professionally. "Just tell us what you saw."
"He kind of - did something, I didn't see what," Raine said hesitantly. "And all of a sudden there was this kind of, I don't know, zebra-unicorn thing, tearing up the rug right there in the hall." Raine sucked in a breath. "And it charged right at the snake, and that's when I got the hell out of there. And... you don't believe any of this...."
Rafe hid a sigh. "Thank you, head over there, I'm sure the paramedics will look you over shortly..."
"Story matches," Henri noted, flipping through his own notebook. "Some kind of high muckety-muck board meeting's going on upstairs when there's suddenly some weird electrical short-out, fires..."
"Someone's cobra loose in the halls," Rafe put in dryly.
"And a zebra with a horn and glowing red eyes," Brown finished. Looked at his notes again. Shook his head in disbelief.
Rafe groaned. "Are you certain no one mentioned Ellison?"
"No curly-headed anthropologist, no detective with a jaw you could break rocks on, no panther, no short, painted guys in loincloths," the dark detective shrugged. "Looks like our resident trouble magnets might be in the clear this time."
Rafe had to blink at that. This much chaos and those two were nowhere to be found? Okay, now we are getting into weird. Even for Cascade.
Henri closed his notes. "And no sign of Mrs. Johnston... hey!"
Rafe broke into a run, hearing Henri's breath behind him as they raced for the yellow cab pulled up to the curb farther down the lawn. Violet and dark blue glimmered near the open door, and smoke-darkened lilac caught the sun as a tall teen in a brass-studded trench coat closed the cab door behind Jenna Johnston.
"Hey!" Henri yelled as the car pulled away. "Cascade PD! Stop that cab!"
Blue eyes raked them. Kaiba picked up a steely briefcase, leaving one hand floating free near the wary black-haired twelve-year-old in a sky-blue raincoat. Waited until they were within easy hearing distance. "Why?"
"Cascade Major Crimes." Rafe held up his identification. "Detective Rafe. This is Detective Brown. We need to talk to Mrs. Johnston."
"Then I presume you can locate her at the hospital, Detective." Not an inch of give in that voice. "She's gone to visit her daughter."
"Corinna's in the hospital?" Rafe caught his breath. Not good.
"Mrs. Johnston didn't carry a phone," Henri said, eyeing the two brothers. "And I know Mr. Clark didn't call her a cab."
"Nii-sama did," Mokuba piped up. "Companies that don't look after their people fail. Right, big brother?" He looked up, gray-blue eyes wide; tugged on heavy violet cloth. "Nii-sama?"
Distant eyes, Rafe realized, seeing Kaiba shake himself back to here-and-now. Like Jim, when he's hearing something we can't.
But Jim would have known if we had another sentinel in town, right? Please tell me I'm right....
From the wary look in Henri's eyes, he'd caught that distraction too. "Mr. Kaiba, I think we need to discuss a few things downtown."
The cold gaze narrowed. "I don't think so."
"Mr. Kaiba-"
"Which way is downtown?" Mokuba stuck in, glancing toward the direction Kaiba had been listening.
Rafe looked down with dawning respect. Simon said the kid had a mind like a steel trap. "That way."
~*~*~*~*~
"So you're certain you've noticed nothing out of the ordinary?"
Next time you get a bad feeling, Valentine, run faster, Mai Valentine told herself dryly, shifting her weight onto her left foot as the harbor waves vibrated the dock they stood on. Contract or no contract, nothing's worth getting mixed up in a homicide investigation. Light rippled up onto the Luck of the Draw's hull, lending the casino ship a sparkle all the gambling glitter in the world couldn't match. The white ship was money and glamour and the freedom to live life to her standards, no one else's; living by her skill at the game, and to hell with what polite society thought.
Yet for all that, she'd felt a gnawing worry in the back of her mind since this morning. The same instinct that told her when to play a card that most would have thought was hopeless, or hold back one that seemed unbeatable, was awake and agitated as a vibrating needle in her gut.
Something's coming, a Duelist's instinct whispered. Something bad.
Get out of here!
Think fast. Mai smiled at Inspector Megan Connor, taking a strategic deep breath that riveted Detective Taggert's gaze to her laced white bodice. "Like I said, Inspector, this was my first trip on the Luck. Piecework. It's not like I'm going to know what's normal and what's not."
"Piecework?" Taggert managed.
Mai turned half into the sun, as if innocently shifting her weight back. She knew the picture she presented to the stunned cop; short purple jacket and skirt clinging to tall, generous curves, high-heeled boots, elbow-length white finger-less gloves, long wavy blonde hair framing sultry violet eyes. "Professional players are part of the Luck's entertainment. Let the amateurs and the kids get some experience in, without risking more than the cruise stakes. I had some time on my hands, and let's face it, anyone can use some spare cash, so I'm just filling in while Ms. Sidonie takes her sick leave. If the management's happy with my job... well, then we'll see."
"Shake your head, Joel, your eyes are stuck," Connor muttered. "What sort of games do you play, Ms. Valentine?" Besides the obvious with guys' heads, the redhead's wry glance added silently.
Mai's smile turned real, humor wiping away her gnawing panic. Another tough cookie, huh? Girlfriend, I think I could like you. "Anything with cards. Though this one's my favorite." She drew out her deck, flipping a card face up.
"Unfriendly Amazon," Megan read. "Attack 2000, Defense 1000... what on earth is this?"
"Guess it still hasn't caught on in Australia," Mai shrugged, flipping past a few more cards. "Well, in America and Japan, this is Duel Monsters." Harpy's Feather Duster. Elegant Egotist. Harpy's Pet Dragon. "You and your opponent each have a deck, and you use your monsters to try to take out the other Duelist's life points." Harpy Lady. Cyber Bondage. Mirror Wall. "You use Magic and Trap cards to support your monsters, and against each other's magic and traps, and the whole thing can tangle up in some pretty complex strategy." Even when there's no magic involved. Add in a Millennium Item, and can we say Shadow Game?
"Can't be better than poker," Joel put in, finally distracted from her feminine attributes.
"Detective, I defy any poker player to last five rounds in a Duel," Mai grinned. Duelists playing poker? Seto Kaiba would eat you alive, Detective. And Yugi - heh, let's not even go there. Yami in Vegas; they'd have to call out the National Guard. "It's not just what's in your hand and your deck. It's what's in your opponent's hand and deck, and you can never call it the same way twice."
"Back up a mo'," Megan said suddenly. "What was that last one?"
"Mirror Wall?" Mai flipped the Trap Card over once more, showing the image of a glittering, crystalline wall. "Permanent Trap. Turns your opponent's attack against itself. Costs you some Life Points, but it's worth it. Why?"
"Ah... no reason," Joel waved it off, trading an incredulous look with his partner. "Okay. Maybe you're new to this ship, but you do game for a living. Are you sure you didn't see anything strange?"
"We've reason to believe some of the funds Mr. Johnston appears to have been investigating may have been mislaid here," Megan filled in. "Anything you might remember would help."
Mai's smile turned formal. "I know the drill, thanks." It's not that I don't want to help. But... it's not my business. One guy's already dead from poking into this. I'm not a cop. I'm just a traveling gambler. I don't have a gun, or magic, or even the rights of your average American citizen here.
But she could see Joey's face as if the blond Duelist were standing in front of her, one hand out to draw her into his circle of friends. Friends that had never blamed her for being their rival... and never given up on her when it looked like all was lost.
Joey had Dueled Marik Ishtar for her mind and soul, knowing full well that he was up against a yami; and not just any dark spirit, but the wielder of the Millennium Rod. A creature who had every intention of killing him - or worse - if he lost.
The big lunkhead. Mai sighed. "Look. I don't know anything specific...."
"But?" Megan prompted.
"The blackjack table felt - off." Mai shuffled her deck absently. Shadow in the water... guess not all the big fish have been scared out of the bay. "Nothing I could put my finger on; Sterling's usually at the opposite end of the gaming room from me, and I didn't see a lot of the bets. But what I did see-" She shook her head, lips pursed in a silent whistle. "I know odds, Inspector. His felt off."
"Crooked game?" Joel scowled.
"In whose favor, is the question," Megan murmured.
Sharp lady, Mai thought. "Most of the night it looked okay. But when a few people dropped by, the odds seemed to tilt their way." Perfect way to launder your money. Damn, I knew this trip wouldn't stay easy.
The detectives were all taut attention. "Can you give us descriptions?" Joel asked, notebook ready.
"Some, I think." Mai eyed the shadow undulating through salt water. Really big... oh hell, that's not a fish!
A rumble like thunder; dark water surged up, higher than a man, higher than the topmost mast on the Luck. Hung there for what felt like eternity, a black curve of hate-
And the tidal wave crashed over the casino ship, violet-finned amphibian riding it from stem to stern.
Root Water. Mai blinked, taking in the salamander maw, the gold flash on the snakelike indigo tail, the finned forearms tearing at a railing as it rode falling water back into the bay. Somebody started a tournament and didn't tell me?
Screams. Claw marks in the torn metal railing. Water pouring from every compartment as the boat listed - water Kaiba's best holograms couldn't have called into a tidal wave, even if holographic shock waves could knock a person off a building.
No. This wasn't a tournament.
Not unless you've got a lot of shiny gold Items mixed in. "Yugi!"
"Call for backup!" Megan was yelling, gun drawn as the Root Water undulated around the ship.
"Yeah, right!" Taggert had taken cover behind a stray shipping crate. "Who you got in mind? Godzilla?"
"Start with SWAT!" Megan backed up to cover Mai as water surged up around the Monster once more. "We'll work up from there!"
The wave rose up, dark and mist-touched, poised to crash into the already-listing ship. On-deck crew howled like madmen, trying to escape their doomed vessel. The Root Water bared fangs in a malevolent grin, forearm waving the tsunami on-
"Oh no you don't!" Megan opened fire.
The amphibian Monster squealed, garnet eyes flashing as blood spattered indigo hide and its wave fell apart. Blue coils twisted on themselves, fangs flashing as it lunged-
"Mahou kado o hatsudou!"
What am I doing, I'm not Joey, I don't even know what I drew- Mai's eyes fell on her card's familiar image. Yes! "Rose Whip!"
The lash she knew as well as her Harpies' feathers struck out, snaring the Monster inches from Megan's throat.
The inspector ducked and rolled, jaw dropping at the carmine shimmer around the whip in Mai's hand. Leather was wrapped around a slick indigo throat, digging into sensitive gills, clinging with all the strength and tenacity of its wielder.
Mai shuddered, feeling the world go gray and dim and silent. "I can't hold it!"
Firecracker snaps filled her ears as her knees gave way; a volley of sound, like the New Year festival. One knee scraped on dock concrete, she put out a hand to try to catch herself-
And found herself caught instead, by a thick reek of cordite and the dark detective's arms. "Easy. Easy, Valentine, we got you. It's dead."
Dead? Mai pried open an eye as her Whip shimmered away, saw the bullet-tattered Root Water dissolving into violet mist. "Not dead. Banished. If the guy's got a Monster Reborn we're all screwed...."
"Say what?" Joel helped her to shaky feet. "Lady, I don't know what you just did, but you need a hospital."
"No way." A hospital wouldn't have helped Joey. Rest had... and magic. "I need - I need a phone. I need to call Yugi...." Wasn't there a phone in her bag? Why was it so hard to remember?
"We'll call her," Megan assured her, moving in to get an arm under her shoulder as the Duelist staggered. "But we need to get you checked out first. You look as if you've been drawn through a wrangle backwards."
"Not her. Him. Yugi Mouto. King of Games." Why did they have to argue when it was so hard to stay awake? "Hospital won't help. Yugi will." Man, Joey, when you said it was like every bit of energy poured down the drain, you weren't kidding.
I called up a card. I did. Me, Mai Valentine. Wandering gambler, adventuress and general woman your mother doesn't want you to grow up to be.
And occasional heroine saving the world.
I really have been around those kids too long....
"I'll find the harbormaster so we can start handling this mess," Mai heard Joel say, as if through thick mist. "You get her out of here."
Woolen warmth wrapped around Mai's shoulders, blasted at her from a car heater as Megan fastened her seat belt. "Stay with me, now," the inspector said forcefully. "Pass out, and I'll have no choice but to haul your lovely carcass into Emergency."
"Hmm?"
Megan backed the small car out, swung it in a sickening lurch toward the road. "You're in luck. I'm taking you to Yugi."
"We're going to Japan?" That didn't make sense. And not just because the world kept trying to slide out of focus.
Megan grinned wryly. "Not quite that far."
~*~*~*~*~
Translation from Japanese:
Mahou kado o hatsudou! - Activate magic card!