The Art of Arrow Cutting
by Stephen Dedman[ Fantasy ]
It started simple enough. A tempting woman with a trifle of a problem needed a bus ticket. Luckily, sometime photographer Michelangelo "Mage" Magistrale is there to help her out. In exchange for his kindness, she gives him the key to her apartment. However this key is about to unlock an adventure of a different kind. It is no ordinary key; it unlocks any door and leads those who seek it out of greed directly to Mage. The thought of power like that can drive mortals to extremes but the mortal world quickly becomes the least of Mage's problems. On the run and under constant attack by ninja assassins, Yakuza thugs, and the most fearsome and loathsome otherworldly creations Japanese mythology can muster, Mage's only hope is to conquer the key and its power. He must master the art of arrow cutting in order to unleash his own magical power before the forces of darkness force him into oblivion. In a place where all the doors lead to fantasy, mythology and a terrifying reality, where do you run?
1
Tamenaga
Tamenaga Tatsuo had not worn a kimono since his daughter's wedding, three years before, and few of his employees had seen him in anything other than a thousand-dollar business suit. None, as far as Nakatani knew, had ever been invited to discuss business with him in the bath, and anything unprecedented made Nakatani nervous; he liked an ordered, predictable, comfortable world, and intended eventually to retire to one ... if Tamenaga permitted it.
He was ushered into a change room by one of Tamenaga's attendants, an attractive woman whose age was unguessable and whose expression didn't alter by a millimeter as Nakatani undressed. She wore a white robe that might easily have concealed a small armory, and she made him feel very naked. It required all his willpower to walk ahead of her without turning around, particularly as she made no perceptible sound.
Tamenaga's bath was a Jacuzzi the size of a backyard pool, bubbling like a witches' cauldron. Behind Tamenaga stood another white-robed attendant, a muscular Japanese in his thirties. Tamenaga himself sat at the far end of the pool with only his head, neck, shoulders, and arms showing above the foaming water; both arms and shoulders were elaborately tattooed. Nakatani bowed, trying not to stare at a detailed rendition of a spectacled cobra coiled around Tamenaga's left arm, the hood spread across the biceps.
"Good morning, Nakatani-san," Tamenaga said in Japanese with a trace of a California accent. "Won't you join me?"
Nakatani nodded, then slipped into the foaming water quickly, trying hard not to remember the stories he'd heard about ninja who could swim underwater for minutes at a time.
"What have you discovered?"
"Sir, I..." He kept his head bowed and stared at the markings on the cobra's hood--according to legend, the fingerprints of Buddha, for whom the snake had once provided shade. "I have checked everywhere. There is no question but that the girl stole it from Higuchi-san."
"And where is the girl?"
"I ... haven't been able to find her. Yet."
Tamenaga nodded. "And where is my son-in-law?"
"Higuchi-san should be in his office, sir ... he was there when I left him." Nakatani's eyes bugged slightly as the cobra's hood swelled and seemed to become scaly. "Inagaki and Tsuchiya are watching him. You didn't say you wanted him brought to you--"
"I don't," Tamenaga grunted, and was silent for a moment. "Does the girl know what she has taken from us, Nakatani-san?"
Nakatani's gaze followed the tattoo as it wound its way to just below Tamenaga's wrist. "It seems barely possible, sir..."
"There are some people for whom anything is possible, Nakatani-san," said Tamenaga smoothly. The cobra lifted its head and stared straight at Nakatani.
"Was anything else stolen?" asked Tamenaga.
Nakatani stared back at the cobra. It flicked its tongue at him and its hood widened.
"Was anything else stolen?" repeated Tamenaga sharply.
Nakatani pulled himself together as best he could. "No, sir."
"You're certain?"
"Nothing else is missing," said Nakatani, not taking his eyes from the snake's. "Maybe some cash of Higuchi's, but he says no--"
"Then she knew what she was looking for, neh?" Tamenaga brooded. His son-in-law was probably telling the truth this time: Tamenaga doubted that he had the imagination to lie competently. Certainly he'd never been able to hide his infidelities from Haruko (who was Westernized enough to be irritated by them), let alone from Tamenaga.
"She may not be able to use it," Nakatani ventured.
"She is extremely intelligent, even gifted, and would not have stolen it if she didn't think she could learn," countered Tamenaga, though he relaxed slightly. "But if we find her quickly enough, Nakatani-san..." The cobra turned away from Nakatani and flicked its tongue in the direction of Tamenaga's ear, as though whispering a secret.
* * * *
When Nakatani had been ushered out, Tamenaga climbed out of the pool. The cobra coiled itself around his arm again and became a tattoo. "Call Hegarty, tell him to be in my office in four minutes. I want a good picture of the girl, and a hundred copies. Send some men to the airport, the bus and railway stations ... and send them to LAX as well. She's had hours, she could be anywhere by now. It doesn't matter who you send, as long as they have eyes and aren't too obvious. Sakura, go and stay with my daughter. Buy her a black dress, something respectable, and put it on my account."
