Daitan'na: Grit of Gotham
Chapter Eleven:
Up a Creek
The ride back to Gotham is tense. After telling Moretsuna and Gankona about everything I've confirmed about Wei Zhihao there were no words and only rage. From both of them. And Damian hasn't said a word to me since we left. I don't expect him to. He must be mad. He should be.
The rollercoaster of emotions built up an appetite. Damian will probably hate to take a break but a quick stop in Shandong won't hurt, although we did agree on hurrying back home to join Batman, Jason, and the others on the attack.
"Damian? Do you think we can stop by at Jinan in Shandong? I'm a little hungry and you don't have anymore food."
"Fine."
"If Batman needs us in Goth—"
"No, I just answered his call. He said they're wading through the underground conduit to disarm twelve bombs. They're certain it's her because not only the sewer waters stank of filth, it was also the presence of her magic. And the thing about the bombs was that they couldn't remove the fuse without answering a riddle. He said they've only gone through four bombs at the moment so you can imagine the amount of time they're taking."
"Riddles…never saw it as her thing," I mutter. "Guess I didn't know her at all."
Damian tosses me a glider and tells me to put it on before I pull Moretsuna and Gankona back into my tattoos, since we're not going to land. I strap it on and look over at him. Then we jump as the dragons return to the field of my tattoos. We fly down slowly towards the city. I look over the people ambling down the roads, heads down, black and brown bathing in the rose gold light of dawn. The sun is warm on my skin as we touch the roof of a tall building. Damian folds back the gliders into his bag and we walk the streets. I look at each signboard halfheartedly. I don't want to eat in a packed place, it'd be too noisy. Damian would obviously agree with me.
"I'm hungry for noodles," I say. "You?"
"Hnn."
We enter a small, empty looking restaurant. It's toasty and cozy inside and we claim a table right in the corner. I rub my hands together, trying to indulge in the heat from the kitchen as much as possible. There's an elderly chef at the counter where the bar is, cleaning glasses and bowls. A waiter comes to take our order. I tell him what I want while Damian scans the menu. I notice the way the waiter stares at him and then me.
I think Damian notices as well because his eyes darted up to him and then back to the menu. He settles for a cup of Earl Grey and a couple of steamed custard buns. I almost smile at the dirty look he throws after the waiter.
"He was probably baffled by your flashy outfit."
"And your tattoos."
I shrug and look out the window.
Wei Zhihao never took me to the city. She said it was too loud, too busy and that the quiet atmosphere to Kunlun Shan was salubrious. I agreed, because I did like being alone. I never suspected her words, her excuses.
"Now that you've got the answers…are you going to willingly take her down?" Damian questions.
"I am," I look him in the eye. "Though there is one thing we still don't know."
"Of course. We don't know why she is wrecking the city, what the Thaumaturge told her."
"I don't care to find out anymore," I frown. "I've had enough surprises."
Our food comes in a while and it's the old man from the bar, bearing a tray. He smiles, puts the tray down, and places the platter of hot custard buns before Damian and the bowl of fried noodles with pak choi in front of me, then our beverages. I nod in thanks as he walks away and pick up my warm, milk tea. Just as I'm about to sip, Damian hisses,
"Stop. Don't. Drink. It."
I freeze, my lips lingering on the cup. "What's wrong?"
"The old man served with only one hand. When he turned and walked away, the other hand behind him was hiding a vial in his fist. He poisoned our tea and probably our meals as well."
"Why on Earth would h—?" There's a loud gust. A large knife drives into the wall, right next to my head. I feel blood drip from my earlobe.
"ÈYÙN!" Comes a shrill screech from the bar. The florid-faced, old man that served us grabs another large dagger and flings it towards the corner we're in. I lunge across the table and tackle Damian just before the blade impales the back of his head. Under the table, he grabs his bag and his weapons. I do the same and once we're ready, we kick it off of us.
"Èyùn!"
"[It's the devil!]"
"Èyùn!"
Waiters are coming at us from all directions, armed with butcher knives, frying pans, and other kitchen utensils. I stare back at them, confused until it hits me.
"Oh god. Of course. We're in Shandong. One of the provinces in the eastern China she terrorized. And because of my tattoos—" They all come at us together, like an angry flood. "They think I'm her!"
"RUN!" Damian roars and we turn and dash right out of the windows. My knees wobble as my feet crash onto the flagstone, slivers of glass showering our backs. But I sprint. I can hear furious calls behind us, knives flying ahead of us. I hear Wei Zhihao's villain name tossed about, rousing bystanders. Then before we can stop just for a while, policemen begin to chase us as well. My adrenaline is spiking as we round a corner, not slowing even for a second. I want to grab my jacket from my bag and put it over my tattoos but that'd be useless. The stench is all over me, the stench of chaos that poisoned this very city. It's triggering everyone I pass. How could I have been so careless?
"How could I have been so careless?" Damian growls as we keep running. "We shouldn't have stopped anywhere!"
"I know and I'm sorry!" I yell, glancing over my shoulder. "I was just sick of being airbor—oh god, it's a freaking mob!"
"Let's end this."
"And face those furious people?!"
Damian halts and whips around. He brandishes his sword. "We don't run anymore. We fight now."
I suppress a groan. The last thing I want to do is to appear as an even bigger threat but Damian has different plans, one involving no calm reasoning. But when I look at the mob, I think nothing would get through to them. They look wary at the same time enraged…Wei Zhihao, or should I say Èyùn, really left her mark on Jinan. I don't want to hurt them because they've misunderstood but they look like they want to skin me alive and boil me in my own blood. Other than the cops and the mad old chef and his waiters, the rest are ordinary citizens. Ordinary adults that got their lives turnt upside down because of her. Of course they would want to get their revenge.
"I'm really sorry about this—" I gasp and the crowd engulfs us.
"[YOU BURN TODAY, ÈYÙN!]" Comes a shriek near me.
"[YOU WILL PAY!]" Comes a wail from a distance.
"[I—]" I punch the person that latched onto my arm, trying not to resort to my Sai. "[I don't even look like her!]"
More hands grab me. One around my neck, two around my wrists, and even one around my ankle. I yelp and fight for breath and space. I can't get enough air. They're suffocating me.
"Namakettei—FIGHT, NOW!" Damian hollers.
I make a guttural sound of impatience and shake off the seizing hands. "[Citizens of Jinan, please stop this! If we all could drop the weapons and talk like nor—]"
A fist rams into my nose. Blood spurts from my nostrils and trickles down my lips. I narrow my eyes and tighten hold over the hilts of my Sai. There goes reasoning and my forbearance. "Violence it is."
I grab the man nearest to me and slam his head hard against another one. I try to bring them down by large numbers, taking them on one by one would take too long. I see Damian is doing more than fine on his own, people are backing away from him now. I use my Sai to only defend, not stab. We're not here to maim anyone. We have to beat the crowd and get the hell out of here. It may have taken me a while to realize but at least now I'm doing as Damian says.
My elbow thrusts into a guy's abdomen and my knuckles brush against a snarling woman's chin. A shove sends them all crashing into each other and their numbers drop like flies. When I'm done knocking the last pair of heads, I gaze at the mess we've caused as I pant. Damian sheathes his sword and looks down at their twitching bodies.
"This didn't have to happen." I say, shutting my eyes.
"We had to defend ourselves, Namakettei, and I don't like your hesitation. If someone is asking for a fight, give it to them. There is no chance at reasoning with such blind violence. All that thinking and you might as well give yourself in," Damian scoffs. "Now, let's get back in the air."
He tosses me a grapnel gun then uses one for himself to get onto a roof of a building. Before I join him I look at the people below me sadly.
"[I'm really sorry but I am not who you think I am,]" I say softly. "[Èyùn and I know each other but I am not despicable and murderous like her. I swear to you all I am not. Please believe me.]"
They don't look at me as I plead them. I don't think they even hear me.
"[W-Witch…]" The old chef from the restaurant earlier whispers, his shaking finger pointing at me. Then he passes out.
I open my mouth but I stop trying. I turn away and use the grapnel gun. Then we're back on Moretsuna and Gankona, in the air. I want to sleep it off but now I can't stop thinking about how Èyùn has truly broken Jinan. How many more provinces has she devastated? For them to think I had done it, not even regarding my appearance or what I had to say, I cannot awfulize how badly they were traumatized. It's crushing, to see them fear the symbol of jeopardy and cruelty that they thought was I.
"I wish we could have helped them instead of beating them up," I say to Damian as the dragons fly alongside each other.
"Help them? How? There was no time for anything but escape. If you hadn't noticed they wanted your blood on their hands. They didn't care about me, I was just an obstacle, fending them off for you—"
"I get it," I growl. "I get it, dammit! I'm just unhappy with it, okay? The way Wei Zhihao played with their lives, to leave them so thirsty for vengeance…I don't like it."
"You think I like it? You can't be distracted by emotions in a fight, Namakettei. I've been doing this much longer than you have so I know what I'm doing. Next time you do nothing and think about how wrong something is you'll be ripped apart."
"I'm not crime fighter material like you people. I had a very ordinary life for five years — I've grown quite habituated to it — and not once did I have to run from an angry, vicious mob. I don't know how to act and think fast on the battlefield. Perhaps not now."
"Leave the fighting to me then. Don't get in the way if you demur at using those Sai of yours."
I grimace and look away from him. I hate to feel useless but he's right. There's no time to think and despair when there's no time at all. Hopefully by the next situation like this I'm more careful. Hopefully.
"Yes? Wait—Nightwing? Slow down."
Damian is speaking into the comm link, brows furrowed. "No…how? You answered a riddle wrong? What happened…Todd? He's gone?"
My eyes widen and I swallow hard. "Wh-What happened?"
"Did you have a tracer on him? No? What is Batman doing right now? …Of course he is…we're on our way. Yes, we'll hurry. Robin out."
Damian ends his call then looks at me grimly.
"They got the last riddle wrong. The bomb, instead of blowing them up, triggered a teleportation of apparently the closest person standing…Todd vanished."
I've never experienced Moretsuna and Gankona's full speed. I never planned to, anyway. When I ordered them to go as fast as they could, both of them warned me it could really give me a migraine if I'm not one for it. It's worth it, to get to Gotham and find Jason.
It's terrifying. My eyes seem to shoot right back into my skull and my mouth wobbles like in those silly cartoons. I hang on to Gankona's head and hug it tight so that the wind doesn't blow me right off. I look up for just a second and see the tangerine sky dabbed with veils of clouds, racing over our heads. Gankona's mane billows around my face, swathing me. Everything is a blur and I already feel sick. Thank goodness I didn't get to eat in Jinan or there would be a very nasty splatter on Gankona's head right now.
After about four or five minutes we stop abruptly. My body lurches forward then snaps backwards as Gankona stops. I clutch my aching head in both hands and squeeze my eyes shut. When they crack open at last I see the starry night sky of Gotham. I let out a puff of breath and massage my temples. My heart is still yet to slow down to a normal pace. My face feels odd, like it's not mine. The wind was so fast and cold on it. It was one heck of a ride and I'm just surprised I'm not hurling right now.
"That was insanely quick, wasn't it?"
"Let's go, they're in the Batcave," Damian says, leaping off Moretsuna. "Hurry."
When we get to the Batcave we hear quiet words at the computer. Batman, Nightwing (who's wearing a very different outfit), Tim, and Alfred are huddled together, looking agitated. Batman's face, however, is just grim. We approach them and nobody seems to know what to ask first.
"Are you two alright? You both look very windswept." Tim looks us over as Alfred goes to fetch us water.
"We're fine. What happened?" I inquire impatiently.
"I don't know how I got the riddle wrong," Batman grunts. "It took us more than ten minutes to work out…but that is not important now. We have to look for Jason. He must be in trouble."
"Jason? Unlikely," Nightwing says, arms crossed. "Have a little faith in him."
"Hard to do so when we have no idea where he is."
"These bombs though," Tim says, walking over to a table where they're placed. "It's hardly a matter of technology but I can't figure out how it teleported Jason elsewhere. It looks far too primitive."
"Magic, Tim," I say. "It's unfathomable."
"Nevertheless I'll still study it."
Batman is looking at Damian, contemplating what to do. There isn't much of a choice. We only have more questions on our hands now. What would she want with him? With any of them?
"Do you…" I speak tentatively. "Do you think she 'kidnapped' him because she knows…we're working together?"
"Possible. She is watching us somehow. And we can't sense her presence because you're here, Tomoe. Her magic is all over you." Batman sighs.
"I-I'm sorry," I frown. "If I hadn't joined you guys she wouldn't come after any of you…I should have—"
"Tomoe, we will find Jason," Nightwing reassures me. "He's really tough and wherever he is, he's probably putting up a good fight."
"It's really late…we can't do anything at the moment. We don't have any leads." Tim says.
"You should all rest. Tomorrow, we work," Batman says, turning to the computer. "Damian, report. Nightwing, Tomoe, go."
"But how can we rest when—?" I start but he gives me a look.
"Rest. You just came back from China, save energy for tomorrow. Damian will tell me everything about what you have seen and experienced in China so at least that is something done tonight. And you're looking a little green. Go."
Nightwing and I leave.
"Aren't you worried about Jason?" I ask Nightwing. He looks quite at ease.
"Well, I know Jason. He's a rebel and he'll never go down without a good fight. Like I said, have some faith in him."
"But…what if Wei Zhihao kidnapped him to torture him? To get to me?"
We're walking slowly down the pavement then we stop. Nightwing stares at me.
"Is that what you think? That she's after you?"
"It's not what I think, Nightwing, it's what I know. Our trip back home in Xinjiang was very…enlightening."
"I'm sorry. But why would she be destroying the city if she only wants you? Couldn't she have done it much easier and less destructive back in China?"
"No, she was missing something. She thought she could get answers from the Thaumaturge here in Gotham."
"I see…and we have to find out exactly what she was told," He sighs. Then he looks at me again and smiles. "She'll only get to you if you let her, okay? Imagining the worst, expecting it…you'll be driven crazy. Follow Batman's advice, go sleep it off and we'll tackle it in the morning. Alright?"
I smile at Nightwing, who's probably the most optimistic out of all of them. "Alright, Nightwing. Where were you all this time, anyway?"
"Just wrapping up some business. Batman updated me with what happens everyday while I was away. Now I'll be around to help," He says.
"Oh, and I like your new outfit," I gesture at his black and blue suit. "Now you're a full time crime fighter?"
"You could say that."
We've walked enough to reach the hotel Jason rented the room in.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow…'night." I say and give a wave. He goes his own way and I get into the hotel room. I toss the key card and my bag on the bed and proceed to get into the shower. The freezing water hits me like shards of ice but I wasn't in the mood for a hot bath either. Once I'm done, I step out, feeling numb with cold but refreshed. As I dry my hair with a towel, I examine myself in the mirror and notice a cut on my earlobe. I remember the moment the knife drove past, just an inch from my head, and into the wall. There's an inconspicuous bit of dried blood caking around my nostrils, from when the guy punched me as I was trying to talk to them. Then there are lacerations from the sharp nails that clawed my back and empurpling bruises from the hands that clenched me hard. Less sick but still very sore, I wrap a towel around me and walk into the bedroom to fetch my bag, where I kept the medicine and liniment.
As I get closer, I glimpse something on the bed. It's a card, which I recognize is made from vellum. Fine parchment. It blends into the sheets as it's the same color but the edges are tinted yellow. I turn it over and read the tiny, cursive script:
"Sight eternal youth
You are there
Follow the dancing girls
You are here."
I read it over and over. What is this supposed to mean? Who is it from? I push it closer to my face to see if there's any hidden message somewhere on the tiny card but a scent hits me instead. I get the weirdest feeling.
I know this smell.
I turn around and look at the bed. Folded by the housekeeping service, on the sheets, is one of Jason's brown vests. I snatch it and take deep, searching sniffs all over. Then I smell the card again. I drop it.
Musk and frankincense.
"Jason?"