"Then why didn't she fight?" asked the voice she didn't know. Its owner hunched beside the trench, his head cocked to the side. Watching her. "You know, attack? Like all the others have. Doesn't fit the mold."
"No, she doesn't." Youko Kurama hummed softly, then added, "Not mindless, either."
The Jaganshi scoffed. His katana cut deeper. She grabbed at it, the edges splitting her palms wide, and scrabbled to control the steel, but her power remained dormant, hidden in dark places, far from the scalding heat of the spirit cuffs. "So they've changed tactics," the fire demon spat. "Doesn't mean anything."
"Tactics? There were no tactics, shrimp. She was standing there, just waiting to be captured."
"Could be a spy," Youko Kurama mused.
"I'm not." The barrier burned at her back, leaving no escape, and no matter how hard she pressed against the blade, the Jaganshi's katana never wavered. "I left… Fled, really. We were—"
Her voice choked out, knotting on her tongue. The force of the sensation left her breathless. If not for the steel cutting into her chest, she would have fallen to her knees.
The crouched silhouette leapt into motion, thudding into the pit at the Jaganshi's side. Kalanie recognized him instantly. The final member of the once great spirit detectives. The detective himself.
Yusuke Urameshi.
A tremor of fear spiked through her heart. She knew what he'd done to perpetrators of the Fall. She'd seen the corpses hanging from his stronghold in Tourin firsthand.
"You were what? Don't leave us hanging."
Brought to Human World as his pet. Kept here, watching his atrocities. Perpetrating them herself. Until he'd let his guard down, slipped up.
But the story wouldn't come. Her voice remained locked in her throat. There would be no explanations.
She should've known. It didn't matter how much time had passed. The four months since her escape hadn't freed her. Not truly.
At her silence, Urameshi twisted his lips into a pucker. His dark gaze settled on the Jaganshi. "You said she was hidden. What's that mean?"
"I can't see her mind. It's not walled off. It simply doesn't exist."
Urameshi arched a brow. "Well, that's not possible."
"Hn."
"It's these," she whispered. Releasing the katana, she extended her arms, drawing attention to the markings inked across her skin. Blood dripped from her palms, running down her wrists and plopping to the barrier beneath her feet.
"Oh, so now you'll talk?" Urameshi leaned closer. His callused fingers gripped her arm, turning it this way and that. "Still don't understand what these are."
Binds. The chains that linked her to him. Forever. Another explanation that lodged on her tongue. But there were pieces she could talk about, bits that fell outside his rules. "I'm not certain how, but if Lord Hiei can't see my mind, it must be these stopping him."
A beat of silence held them in its grasp. With a halting laugh, Kazuma Kuwabara said, "Lord Hiei? As if."
Before the others could answer, the thud of pounding footsteps broke the stillness. A lithe woman stumbled to a halt beside Youko Kurama's dark silhouette. "Demons in the forest. At least a dozen. Jin says they'll need you."
Urameshi straightened and, in one leap, cleared the edge of the pit. "Leave her, Hiei. Close this back up. I'll talk to the old woman later. See if she knows what those markings mean." Then he was gone, Kazuma Kuwabara and Youko Kurama on his heels.
Blurring into motion, the Jaganshi jumped from her prison. He stalked out of sight without a backward glance. When the stone groaned and began to close, she realized he'd gone to shove it into place.
The woman bent down, peering into the gap. "I'm sorry about this," she said. Sunlight caught on her powder blue hair as she offered a weak smile.
The kindness in her tone startled Kalanie and words failed her. By the time she found her tongue, the rock had settled into place, blocking out the sun and the sky and everything else with it. Her voice echoed in her own ears.
"Don't be."
Four more canteens.
She'd stopped drinking them. Day after day of the same weak broth was little better than the berries she'd foraged in the woods. She drank when thirst became unbearable, but otherwise they accumulated untouched in the prison's corner.
Whatever demons had drawn her captors away, it seemed they'd also pushed her thoroughly from mind. Youko Kurama had not even returned to feed her. Instead, a nameless apparition had taken his place. The wiry boy dropped canteens at her feet and watched her with beady eyes, swinging what looked like a yo-yo around one of his fingers.
Other than his interruptions, she'd been left alone, and in the stillness, the blue light of the barrier had begun to eat away at her. She craved the sun or the moon. Even starlight. Anything but this foreign spirit energy and its constant reminder that she was so far from home.
Sometimes, as she struggled for sleep, she imagined begging to be returned to Demon World. Surely Urameshi could see the worth in sending her home. One less demon to haunt Human World. But perhaps he wouldn't. After all, without the barrier between worlds, she could return easily enough. Besides, returning now, unprepared as she was, would be asking for death. Or worse. Far worse.
So there would be no return to Demon World. Not until she had answers. A means to find Nomi. To free him.
Those answers had been so close. Weeks away. The meeting was soon. If she could be free of this place, she could make it there. She'd known for weeks that she would take the deal. Anything to get Nomi back.
Anything.
So when the noises of the encampment overhead grew quiet and she knew night had found the shrine, she set herself against the barrier. Fighting and clawing. Drawing on the power knotted deep within her and hurling it against the spirit cuffs encasing her wrists. Over and over. For hours. Until she collapsed to the ground, too exhausted for more.
It could have been her imagination, a mere trick of her rattled thoughts, but she could've sworn the cuffs' golden light flickered. As if her efforts had weakened them.
Maybe they had. But not enough.
Not yet.
"Enough racket down there!"
Kalanie fell still as the stone blocking her in was shoved out of place. Her second night attempting escape had proved no more successful than the first, but it seemed she'd drawn attention to herself. Crouched in the corner of the pit, she peered up at the figure visible in the gap. This time, she recognized him. Urameshi.
He shoved a hand down toward her. "Come on."
She hesitated a beat, waiting for the trick—the pop of his spirit gun or the reemergence of the Jaganshi's katana. Neither came. Slowly, she rose to her feet and took his hand. He yanked her from the pit with ease, and she landed lightly beside him.
The moonlight brimmed his hair in silver as he shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his head for her to follow. Ahead, the shrine sprawled through the clearing. Sloppy additions had been constructed on its east side and distant smoke curled above the roof, as if an encampment was hidden behind the structure.
"The old woman thinks she knows what those marks on your hands are. She says if she's right, you might not be the enemy after all. Don't do anything to prove her wrong." Urameshi shot her a wry grin over his shoulder. "Won't be able to stop Lord Hiei from killing you if you do."
The mocking lilt in his tone set her on edge. He was a lord, too. More so than the Jaganshi even. Yet he seemed to be laughing at her. As if she were the fool for respecting the heir of Alaric.
As he led her up a set of rickety steps to the shrine's sliding doors, she asked, "What is it that I don't know? What makes his title humorous?"
Urameshi halted with a hand on the door. He snorted. "You mean other than how much Hiei hates it? I guess the fact that Alaric no longer exists, for starters."
He may as well have punched her. Alaric… gone? "That's not possible—"
This time he made no attempt to hide his laughter as he grabbed her shoulder and yanked her into the temple. "You must be cozy in that pit of yours. Can't be too different from whatever rock you've been living under for three months."
Three months. Alaric had fallen mere weeks after her escape? How was that possible? And three months ago, she'd still been living in the human city. Or, well, not living, but existing. Surviving. Either way, she'd heard nothing of Alaric's dissolution. Had news not reached Human World then?
"Word to the wise," Urameshi added at a whisper, "don't go mentioning Alaric to Hiei. He'll gut you for it."
Then he shoved her into a brightly lit room, its walls lined with cushion. All but one was occupied. Almost a score of demons and humans kneeled in wait, their eyes locked on her. She was all too aware of her muddied clothes, the reek that rolled off her skin.
She knew nearly every gathered apparition by name. All of the retired spirit detectives. And others, too. The allies they had made during their careers. Botan, the same woman who'd apologized for her confinement days ago. Keiko Yukimura. Shizuru Kuwabara. Yukina. Demons who'd made names for themselves in the Dark Tournament—Jin, Chu, Touya, Rinku. Humans turned psychics—Yu Kaito, Asato Kido, Mitsunari Yanagisawa.
Face after face that she'd seen before. Every last one in the reports she'd read until her eyes failed her. She'd never imagined she'd see them in person. The last vestiges of defense left for Human World. He had hated them. At night, when darkness came, he'd lie awake for hours, plotting their deaths. He'd painted vivid pictures of the violence he'd beset upon them, of the armies he would bring against them.
Now it was their turn.
And it was hard to imagine a future where this was not her last night amongst the living.
As Yusuke settled onto an empty cushion in the center of the assembly, Kalanie wrapped her arms about her middle and met his gaze. He offered her a lazy smirk and called, "Hey, old lady! Where are you?"
The whisper soft rustling of stocking-covered feet answered him. An old woman emerged from the hall and stalked into the room. Genkai. Despite the spirit cuffs shackling her power, Kalanie had thought she'd sensed the old psychic—the energy signature that burned like the embers of a bonfire.
Just as the rumors she'd heard for years always promised.
"Shut it, dimwit," the psychic barked. She drew even with Kalanie and paced around her once, her narrowed eyes tracking up and down her body. Once she completed her circle, she extended a hand and snapped her fingers impatiently. "Give me your arm, girl."
The order struck a nerve in Kalanie. For the barest moment, she considered resisting. Bolting, even. She was fast. If she caught them off guard, perhaps she could escape. The woods weren't far and the deadline couldn't be more than a handful of weeks away. She could stay lost in the trees, hidden until the agreed upon meeting time at last arrived. Then she'd strike the deal. She'd have her chance.
She'd get Nomi back.
But as quick as those imaginings came, they disappeared. One low growl from the Jaganshi was enough to remind her. The records she'd studied put his max speed far beyond anything she could hope to achieve, especially without iron to bolster her. She'd never outrun him.
Her breath catching in her teeth, she unraveled her arms and held them out.
Beneath the temple's stark lighting, the markings on her arm seemed black as the darkest nightmare. The whorls and lines crisscrossed her flesh in a latticework of terrors. At her wrists, beneath the golden light of the spirit cuffs, the ink was drawn like the links of a chain. In neat, precise lettering, the characters of his name were etched into her skin.
Masaru.
"The Sovereign Binds," Genkai said. She traced a finger over the ink as if to check the markings were not raised. The scrap of her nail sent a shiver wracking down Kalanie's spine. No one had touched her arms in four months. She'd never even let them be seen without iron gloves, let alone exposed so thoroughly.
"Which is what you expected?"
Genkai turned to Youko Kurama. "Yes. And no. I thought these no longer existed. I haven't seen the technique in decades."
Chu took a swill from a bottle he clutched in his lap. "Well, you've not been to the depths of Demon World in decades either, have you, sheila?"
Genkai ignored him. "I wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't seeing them myself, though it was the only explanation for the markings you lot had been seeing. So they controlled you, girl?" Her sharp gaze bore into Kalanie's, but Kalanie couldn't answer. Not this question any more than those Urameshi had asked her before. "Or is that your cover? It's convenient. An easy excuse to pass off."
"I can't say." It was the only explanation she could give—and, in truth, if one read between the lines, it was all the answer needed.
Urameshi seemed not to see those lines. "Answer the damn question. Or don't, if you're an idiot. It's your skin on the line."
Youko Kurama rose to his feet. He crossed the room in five quick steps and bent over Genkai's shoulder. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Genkai, but I don't believe it's that simple. I've not heard much of the Sovereign Binds, but from the rumors I remember, they seal the bearer's will to the creator's entirely. The slightest word, the barest whim becomes an unbreakable command." He offered the glimmer of a smile. "Am I right?"
"I can't say."
He chuckled.
"Why are we laughing?" Urameshi thwacked a fist into an open palm. "She's not answering."
"Because she can't, dimwit. She's been compelled not to."
"Or so she wants us to believe." Disgust dripped from the Jaganshi's tone. "It's a disguise. An excuse and little more."
"It's not."
All eyes swiveled back to her.
Youko Kurama offered her a hand. "We've not introduced ourselves. I'm Kurama. You are?"
"Kalanie," she answered, her own name foreign on her tongue. How long had it been since she'd given it? How long since someone had used it? When she didn't take his hand, he lowered it. "But I know all of you. Have for years."
"All of us?" Urameshi lurched to his feet. He jabbed a thumb toward the women seated in the room's corner. "Even them."
She nodded. "Even them."
"Well," Youko Kurama said, "no need for titles. In case Yusuke hadn't already made that clear. Kurama will do for me."
Kazuma Kuwabara burst into laughter. "Still can't believe you called the shrimp a lord." Ignoring a sharp glare from the fire demon, he pounded a hand against his chest. "I wouldn't fight you if you wanted to call me Lord Kazuma. It's got a great ring to it. But Kuwabara will do just fine."
Kalanie shifted uncomfortably. The urge to run still smoldered in her veins. Whatever this was, it wasn't right. They shouldn't be relaxing their guard. Not around her. Not ever. And using their given names? So familiar. As if they were allies, not enemies.
"So what do we do with her?" Urameshi asked. "These binds of hers, do they make her a threat?"
The Jaganshi's katana clicked free of its scabbard. "Threats must be eliminated. Before they can strike."
"But I'm not. A threat, I mean. I won't—" Her words twisted up on themselves, but she clawed past the compulsion tightening her throat. This wasn't forbidden. This information wasn't secret. "I won't attack. I'm free." Despite herself—despite everything—a laugh tumbled from her lips. "For now."
Genkai's gaze tracked down her arm, settling on the characters inked between the chain links on her wrist. "Masaru," she read. "The demon who bound you?"
"I can't say." It had become her mantra. Her code for yes. She prayed the old psychic understood it.
"Are there others?" Genkai took one look at her face and rasped out a chuckle. "You can't say, can you?" She dropped Kalanie's arm at last and turned to the room at large. "I think we keep her here. Indefinitely. If we frame our questions right, she has information we can use."
Indefinitely.
Kalanie couldn't stop a half-step backward. She couldn't stay here. Not forever. Not in that hole. Not with the deadline looming.
A murmur ran through the gathered crowd at her movement. The Jaganshi blurred from his seat, appearing at her side instantly, his katana drawn. She raised her hands in surrender.
"Don't put me back there. I can't go back there."
"You won't," Genkai said. She batted the Jaganshi's blade aside. "This is still my shrine. Whether you dimwits like it or not." Her cutting gaze lanced toward the fire demon, but he remained still as stone, his lips curled in a sneer. "Your spirit cuffs stay on, but there's an empty bedroom. We'll put you there."
Her fingers curled into fists so tight her knuckles turned white. "Please take them off. I can't… I need my power. Just for a moment."
The Jaganshi snarled. "Liar."
She ignored him. "I need iron. That's why I came here. There's ore beneath this land. I need it."
The psychic didn't waver. "The cuffs stay on. Tomorrow you'll answer our questions. We'll move forward from there." She paced to the doorway and paused there, one hand on the frame. "Botan, get the girl cleaned up. Fresh clothes. We should have some in our stores. The rest of you, clear out. Don't you have jobs to do?"
As Genkai disappeared and the blue-haired ferrygirl bounced to Kalanie's side, she couldn't tear her eyes from the Jaganshi's katana. Its steel gleamed beneath the lights, calling to her—to the snarling beast pacing ever closer.
They hadn't listened, but she couldn't give up. She'd get her iron. Soon.
Because as the Jaganshi had said: threats must be eliminated. Before they could strike.
AN: I hope you enjoy this second chapter! I'm having a blast reacquainting myself with the gang. It's been ages since I've been inside their heads, so if anyone doesn't sound quite right, I apologize! It's all feeling more and more familiar every time I sit down at the keyboard.
Also, I have no idea what kind of update schedule I'm going to be able to keep up for this. I actually write YA novels these days (though I'm not published yet), but if I get revision notes back from my agent, those will need to take priority, no matter how much I'd rather write about YYH. That said, I'm hoping not to become too infrequent!