May I Enjoy My Life: Entry 37

August 6th, 1100

I remember clearly the day I left Siracusa. I had tried to go home, and my father had refused to let me inside. My sister had been screaming and crying from the second-story window, tears and snot trickling down her face. I could only blow kisses to her. My mother set a suitcase with my belongings outside. I could hear her weeping as well, but she didn’t open the door to kiss me one last time. How could she? I was a filthy Infected. The Law was clear on how to deal with those who are Infected in Praecepta 13:45-48. 

45 The one upon whom the crystal mark is shall tear his garments and bare his head, and he shall cover his mouth with his head covering and cry, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’ He shall be Unclean, for all his days shall he be Unclean. 46 He shall dwell alone; his dwelling shall be outside the city, lest others be tainted by the dust of the stone. 47 All who touch one who is Unclean in this way shall also be Unclean for seven days, and be isolated from you. At the end of seven days, the priest shall examine them. 48 If no dust of the stone is found upon them, they shall be Clean, and they shall dwell among you in the city. But if the dust of the stone is found upon them, then they too shall be Unclean, and be cast out from among you; they may not dwell within the city. 

That’s one reason I fell away from the Church. I used to justify it. After all, the Law was written for Bronze Age barbarians wandering the Lateran wilderness. They didn’t know how to treat oripathy. They didn’t understand how oripathy spread, or that you couldn’t contract oripathy just from touch. 

But I saw the cruelty. I’ve talked to Arene and Adnachiel. None of their family will speak to them either, and they can never return to Laterano, their patrons confiscated or never given in the first place. How could the Church and the Law continue to be so cruel in the face of current reality? 

Now I knew, of course. The Law wasn’t an all-loving, beatific deity. It was a computer. A machine. A divine one, perhaps, but still a machine. Its cold, calculating mind, for it had no heart, had determined that this was the safest and best way to protect the Sankta. Kal’tsit claimed that it ‘loved’ the Sankta, but how can a machine love? With no blood pumping in its veins, no passion in its heart, how could it learn to give more of itself than it could ever receive in return? 

Well, not that my own love was perfect. While I sat next to James on the VTOL, I held his hand and felt terribly guilty. They say there’s nothing like Lateran guilt, and I think I can confirm that as a daughter of the church, I am afflicted with as terminal a case as any. 

And, yes, I suppose despite it all, I still believe in the Law. Maybe it’s not a benevolent deity. So what? It has still been a guiding light, sometimes the only guiding light, for millennia. And, maybe, just maybe, there is someone out there, listening to our prayers.

Anyway, I had been a bully. Maybe for my whole life. I had a hard time reconciling that. I am, after all, tiny, weak, and fairly pathetic physically. Plenty of people had bullied me, of course. It’s not hard to pick on the little vulpo girl when you’re a big strong lupo. However, the worst bullies had never been the kind that actually shoved me around or stole my lunch at school. No, they had been the girls who talked about me behind my back, or mocked me openly. The ones who were “just trying to be kind” but shit talked my outfit, or my hair, or, well, my stupid pursuit of boys a good 10cm or more taller than I was. 

Not just vulpo, either. I lost my virginity to a lupo boy, only to find him and his friends laughing about it later. We were in college then, but he talked about how “desperate” I was and how easy I was to manipulate. I hated him, and the girls who showed me the texts from him to mock me. That’s why I stuck to vulpo for a long time. 

So, to think I was a bully was…hard. And yet, I knew Ingrid was right. I did have a tendency to bully James. And well, anyone within reach I suppose. I thought of it as standing up for myself, because, well, I was just a weak little vulpo, and someone had to stand up for me, right? 

“Hey, you OK?” 

I blinked, and looked up at James, who was looking at me with concern. I forced a smile onto my face. “Yes, I’m fine. Just worried about Texas.”

James looked over at Texas, who was gnawing on her second stick of nicotine gum, and sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

“James. She is lying.”

I shot a death glare over at Ingrid, but she didn’t even look up from stroking Lisa’s hair. Our Light had woken up very early for the flight and had passed out in her mother’s lap. She was snoring softly now, and cute as ever. 

“Oh. Is this one of those things where you say you're fine, but you’re not, and  you really want me to ask you about it again?” James said, turning back to me. 

I groaned. “Yes.”

“Ah, OK. So, what’s up? You seem extra gloomy. Is it going back to Siracusa?” 

“A little, though I’m not as bothered about visiting Nueva Volsinii. When we visit Palmero…that will twist my tail,” I admitted. 

“So, what is it, then?” James asked, his forehead wrinkling. 

How could he not know!? It hadn’t even been two hours since we’d had our chat with Ingrid. “Why are you not mad at me?!” 

“I…should I be?” James asked, sounding deeply confused. 

“Yes! I was bullying you! Cruel to you! I’m supposed to love you, care for you, and I was tormenting you!” I said, tears bursting out of my cheeks as my voice broke. 

“Oh. Well, I forgave you,” James said, and hugged me. 

“That’s it?!” I demanded. 

“That’s it. I can yell at you later if you really want me to, though I probably won’t be any good at it. Not while Lisa’s sleeping, though.”

Despite myself, my tail wagged a little. The thought of James actually showing some real emotion towards me…well, alright, he did show real emotion, he just… well, he wasn’t very Siracusan. Which made sense, since he wasn’t even Terran. 

I closed my eyes and leaned against James, and he put his arm around me. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Be smokin’ hot. Oh, and a really good doctor too.”

I snorted with laughter and felt more at ease. The guilt didn’t go away entirely, but it did subside slightly. 

Texas got increasingly twitchy as we came in for a landing, despite my and James' efforts to encourage her to calm. I don’t know Lappland terribly well, she was never my patient directly, but I can’t think she would willingly attack Texas or Sora. The Famigilia, yes, but not innocents. I’ve even heard she got rave reviews as a cab driver, believe it or not. 

As soon as we landed, Texas was gone, even after James gave her a cooldown hug. We watched her run off across the rooftops, and I could tell James was nearly sick with worry. “She’ll be alright,” I told him. 

“Yeah, Texas and Lappland fought last year, so it’s out of their system, right?” James said with a nervous chuckle.

“That depends entirely on how long she and Sora have been together,” Ingrid commented. “If this is the first time the Saluzzo has heard of it…well. Siracusan lovers have been known to have jealous tifts that end in blood.”

“I hope Texas-san and Lappland-san are able to be friends again,” Lisa said, her ears dropping atop her head. “Lappland-san is fun! She taught me how to make milifoni.”

Ingrid looked so comically aghast that I couldn’t help but laugh at her expression, at least until Rosmontis stepped forward, hand extended. “Reveal yourselves. Or I will reveal you.”

I glanced around the rooftop, but didn’t see anything, while Ingrid immediately shoved Lisa behind her and drew her blade. Red was growing and had her knives out, and the hackles on the back of my neck were rising.

Right there in plain daylight, two men appeared. Both wore blank wolf masks with bar codes on them, and were as bald as eggs. They wore drab, unassuming clothes, and had relaxed postures. Ice formed in the pit of my stomach, and I sucked in a breath. Bocca al Lupo. Silencers. The secret police of Siracusa. If they were not a match for an Emperor’s Blade, they certainly were for a Trilby Asher. They served only the Capo dei Capi. The Lady of Sicily herself. 

“Scusi, Signora Rosmontis. We mean no harm to you or Dr. McCoy,” the Silencer said, bowing slightly. “We are simply here to deliver the good doctor to his patient.”

“What are you-” James said, but his device pinged. He slowly pulled it out of his lab coat’s pocket, and glanced at the screen, then groaned and showed it to me. 

From: Director Kal’tsit. 

Heading: New Mission Objective

Directive: Cure the Godmother

Timeline: Immediately

“You have got to be shitting me!” James exclaimed, looking up in disgust. Ingrid glared at him, but he actually seemed genuinely upset for once. “I’m supposed to cure Al Capone!?”

“No. You are supposed to cure Signori Sicilia,” the Cleaner said, his companion still silent. “In fact, we insist.”

“You are not capable of insisting,” Rosmontis said, her eyes wandering away from the Silencers as she sidestepped between them and James. 

“Scusi, Signora Rosmontis, but you will find-” the Silencer began. Then four more Silencers suddenly appeared, by virtue of being slammed into the hospital rooftop by invisible fists. The Silencer trailed off, and Rosmontis turned to James. 

“If you would like, I can kill them,” she said in her same flat tone. 

“Uh, let’s not kill anyone unless we actually have to, OK?” James said with a heavy sigh. He put his hands into his pockets and frowned. “Sorry, Ingrid, that just slipped out.”

“Forgiven, for now. But we will talk later,” Ingrid said, her tail flicking back and forth as she eyed Rosmontis. “Child, you are much stronger than I thought. Silencers, they are resistant to arts.”

“It’s harder to knock them around,” Rosmontis admitted. “Like having to knock over a boulder. But I can juggle those.”

“This was not the deal,” the Silencer said, as he and his still upright compatriot produced heavy crossbows that looked like they could put bolts through the VTOL’s armor plating. “Doctor Bones, he is supposed to see to the Signora.” 

“Dammit, Kal,” James muttered. He sighed and shook his head. “Right. Take me to her. But they all come with me. None of this ‘you have to go alone’ BS.” 

“I am not so sure about allowing that one, or the Fang, around the Signora,” the Silencer said, his mask pointed at Rosmontis. He hadn’t aimed his crossbow at us, but he was clearly tense. 

“Stand down,” a commanding voice said, and the door to the roof opened. Out stepped a dignified older woman with a fur-lined coat and a cane in her hands, accompanied by a Sankta priest. This was her. The Godmother of Siracusa herself. I reflexively curtsied, and Ingrid even bowed and saluted with her sword, while Lisa executed a perfect curtsy that put mine to shame. James just stood there with his hands in his coat pockets, and Rosmontis didn’t even blink. 

The Silencers bowed and parted for her, while the ones who’d been knocked down struggled to their knees. James took a step forward, and I hastily copied him, while Red prowled forward on his left, and Rosmontis stayed behind us. 

“Bones-sensei!” Lisa hissed, and took out a fan to wrap him on his wrist. “Your lessons!” 

“I know,” James said, giving Lisa a fond smile, but then he looked back at Signori Sicilia, a scowl on his face, still slouching with his hands in his pockets. “Those are for people I respect, however.”

The priest chuckled and stepped forward. “And you do not respect your elders, young man?”

“I respect my elders. Just not murderers and gangsters, Father Agenir,” James said bluntly. I flinched, but he wasn’t wrong. The Godmother had an ocean of blood on her hands, and while Grey Hall wasn’t as bad as the chaos that had come before, the Twelve Families were still simply a collection of thugs and gangsters who lorded it over the Siracusan city-states with bloody-minded cruelty. 

“James,” Ingrid said, and he turned to her, frowning. “Do not be a child. Politeness costs nothing. Rudeness, however, may cost you everything.”

“Yeah, OK.” James stood up straight and took his hands out of his pockets, but only to fold them over his chest. He glowered down at the Signora, and said, “With all due respect, ma’am, give me one good reason I should cure you instead of someone who isn’t a mass murdering monster.”

“Because at my command, all the resources of Siracusa will be at Rhodes Island’s disposal. And from the missive I received, you will have need of all you can get soon,” the Signora said bluntly. “I was told you might be difficult. If you were, I was to tell you one word: Priestess.”

James blanched and looked away, unfolding his arms. “OK, that’s a pretty compelling reason. I suppose it’s a secret that you’re an Infected?”

I felt my eyes widen, but of course. That had to be the reason. Ingrid shifted slightly, while Lisa gasped. The Silencers and the priest didn’t react, though I hazarded that most of the Silencers hadn’t known. 

“A secret known to very few. Thankfully, the signs are easily concealed,” the Signora said, running a hand up her full-length gloves with a wry smile. “My condition is not especially severe. But I believe we should conduct this conversation somewhere more private. Come. I have an entire floor ready for us.”

“Of course you do,” James growled, his lip curling. “And what about all the patients who need care?”

“They will be seen to. Who knows? With a famous doctor with miracle arts here, perhaps they could all be saved from their more mundane afflictions,” the Signora said, turning away. 

I took James’ hand, standing on tiptoes and pulling him down slightly so I could whisper in his ear. “James, if you don’t want to cure her, we can go. Rosmontis can cover us, and the VTOL has enough fuel to take us somewhere else. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, but I trust Kal. I don’t know why she’s got me doing this, but Priestess is still out there and a major threat. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Even…well, even from the mafia, probably.”

That made me feel…dirty. I’d never been a part of any famiglia, but, well…this was Siracusa. And I was Siracusan. Like it or not, this was all a part of me too, in some ways. I couldn’t help but feel that James’ disgust with my homeland was reflected in me, somehow. I knew in my brain that was silly, but my heart was another matter. 

Something for later. For now, we were led into the hospital, into a floor that was eerily silent. It was mostly full of private rooms that had all been cleared out, and I recognized that this was a hospital for the wealthy, not the common folk of Siracusa. While Siracusa did have excellent medical care, comparable to wealthier and more powerful nations like Yan or Leithania, the fact was that such care was really only available to the rich and powerful. We were not unique in that; Columbia and Kazimerz were famous for their own capitalistic stratified societies, and it was deeply unpleasant to dwell on. 

We were led to a fully functional OR, where several medical staff were waiting for us. All were lupos, and just by looking at them, I hazarded that they were the Signora’s personal medical team. James insisted on introductions, and had the Signora’s personal physician pull up her charts and show them to us. 

“It is a mild case. Blood count is .22 u/L. Cell integration is only 2%. Visible lesions only on the left forearm, though there is one developing in the left armpit that will become visible in a few months, if, that is, this treatment proves ineffective.”

“And you have the hemodialysis machine ready,” James said, eyeing the charts and the medical devices in the room. 

“Yes, we conducted one session yesterday, and will perform another during the surgery.”

“But the patient is 83. Lupo life expectancy is 88. Doesn’t seem like this case is going to be more terminal than anything else,” James said, glancing over at the Signora, who had already changed into a hospital gown. I had conducted my own exam, and there were indeed two small lesions on her arm. 

“With good medical care, it wouldn’t be surprising for the Signora to live another 20 years. Her grandmother lived to be 102,” the doctor said.

James pulled up a chair and spun it around, leaning on the back and sliding it over to the Signora. Even up on the operating table, she was only at eye level with James, and he was slouching again. He eyed her silently for a few moments, and she calmly returned his gaze. He broke the silence first. 

“Frankly, I don’t think you need this procedure. You’re more likely to die of natural causes in the next decade than you are of oripathy,” James said. 

The Signora gave him a somewhat condescending smile. “You simply find me to be repulsive, because you think I am a criminal. Well, I will tell you this, without me-”

“No, that’s not it.” James interrupted, raising a hand. “Right now, I’m just a doctor, and you’re just the patient. I’m going to give you my honest medical opinion, which is this: this procedure is dangerous. Not just for me, but for the one I operate on. I killed the first patient I cured.”

There were startled gasps and shifting, and the Signora’s eyes narrowed. “I was not informed.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. I cured a 10-year-old patient who was in fragile health, and he was dead on the operating table and had to be revived. Kids are generally tougher than someone of your age, at least medically speaking. The other patients didn’t expire, including one Cellinia Texas, who I assume you are familiar with.”

The Signora nodded slowly, and James continued, “She’s probably the closest analogue to you: most of the patients I’ve cured are healthy adults, but Texas is a healthy adult female lupo of approximately your size and build, with an infection that was analogous to yours for the most part. She very nearly expired as well. But, she’s about 60 years younger than you. That matters.”

“So, you are refusing to cure the Signora?!” one of the other doctors demanded, but James rolled his eyes. 

“That is not what I am doing, I am being a professional and clearly communicating to the patient the risks. Her oripathy is not advanced, and not, at this time, life-threatening. There are clear dangers to an experimental medical procedure that she needs to fully understand and consent to, before we move forward.”

“This may not be how you do it in Scicilia, but on Rhodes Island, it is how we practice medicine,” I said, giving the doctor my own glare. He quieted, and James turned back to the Signora.

“Now, on to possible benefits: this is a full-body rebuild, the way I do it. I won’t magically make you younger or the prime of your youth, but it might help with your rheumatoid arthritis and those old cracked ribs, and the other scars you’ve got. I’m not sure, I’ve never used my arts on someone who’s geriatric before. So, this will at least be a novel test case that will provide useful data.”

“I see,” the Signora said when James finished. She glanced at her doctors, then turned to me. “And what do you recommend, Doctor Sussurro?”

I blinked in surprise, but hastily straightened up as best I could. “At your advanced age, I would recommend against the procedure. It’s physically taxing, and the medical benefit is minimal in regards to lifespan. Your chart doesn’t show you experiencing severe complications from Oriapthy, and you won’t for a decade with the medications you’re already taking.”

“And if I insist?” the Signora asked, her gaze locking on to James.

He sighed. “Then I’ll perform the procedure. Personal feelings aside, I trust Kal’tsit. I’d say you should know this means I can’t heal someone else, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t matter to you.”

“It does not.” The Signora lay back on the table and closed her eyes. “Begin the procedure.”

It still took a while to get everything ready. Red was extremely unhappy to be forced to stay outside, as was Rosmontis, but the Signora stated none of her body guards would be allowed in the OR either, so we compromised. Lisa and Ingrid went to a separate room to wait, and James and I changed and scrubbed down.

“How do you feel about this?” I asked him quietly as we changed together in the ready room.

“If I’m honest, pissed,” he said, though he sounded more tired than angry. “Like I said: I heal her, I can’t heal someone who does deserve it.” 

“That’s not part of being a doctor though,” I told him gently. “Sometimes, our patients aren’t good people. I know it’s different for you, because it costs you so much to heal someone, but, sometimes…sometimes the rich and the powerful get to cut in line.”

“Yeah, and if Priestess is back soon…we’re going to need her. I just remembered something too: PRTS being on the fritz probably means Priestess is coming back before long. How long, I don’t know. But I think I fucked things up. Again.”

He slumped down, looking defeated and staring at the lesions on his right hand. I went over and gave him a hug, squeezing him as tightly as I could and willing as much of myself into him as possible. All my own strength and passion, let it kindle in him, just a little.

“You’ve already saved so many lives. Who knows: maybe Doktah and Kal’tsit have a plan to handle Priestess thanks to what you brought back,” I whispered, and kissed him on the cheek. 

He gave me a smile and kissed me back, then groaned as I helped him up to his feet. “Alright. Let’s do some medicine.”

The procedure was quick and relatively simple. We had it down to a science by now and knew exactly what to do. They already had Signora knocked out and hooked up to the dialysis machine when James came out. He absorbed the originium nodules, then scrubbed the rest of her system in under an hour. I had to make the incisions for him, but we were a team working in perfect unison by this point. 

By the end of it, James was flagging badly, and in a great deal of pain. The Signora was still out when I helped him to his own room and checked his levels. 

“You’re at .42 u/L, 9% cell integration,” I told him as he lay in the bed. 

“Not too bad,” he mumbled. “Could still do another, probably.”

“I don’t think so. I’m going to sedate you. You need rest. When you wake up, we’ll have you heal as many people as you can. I brought some doses of Solvignis to help with that.”

The sudden craving that burned in James’ hollow eye made me want to weep. I could see him force it down, but he wanted that drug. “Alright. Whatever you think is best. Don’t want to go on another bender if it’s going to cause problems.”

“It won’t, and we need to get your levels down,” I told him, then gave him a cocktail for the pain and to put him out for a while. I turned to Red and Rosmontis. “Keep him safe, alright?”

“Anyone try to hurt Bones man, Red kill them,” the teenage assassin growled. 

“I have informed our hosts I will level the hospital if anyone attempts to harm Operator Bones,” Rosmontis said. She paused when I looked at her aghast, then added, “I know you don’t want me to, but the mission comes first. And the Director told me to keep him safe, at any costs. I am sorry. I know destroying a hospital would make you and Mr. Bones sad.”

“Leveling this place would do the world a favor,” Ingrid commented, stepping into the room. I glared at her, but she shrugged. “This is San Corleone. It is not for the common man. It is a place for the Made Men and dons to come heal after their latest bloody battle. Destroying it would only do the world some good.”

“That’s not how Nueva Volsinii is supposed to work!” I hissed, keeping my voice down as James got some much-needed rest. 

“Then it is unfortunate that it is so. The hospital, it is run by Grey Hall. My father, he is on the board of directors. I have come here many a time when wounded. As I am a Made Man, they treated me without question. But a wounded civilian? If they are lucky, an ambulance takes them to Sacra Custodia. If not…they are put in a room to bleed out, and their organs harvested. Do not make such a face: this is a fact.”

I growled, but we were in Siracusa. Of course that was how things worked. If you were a normal person, the waitlist for an organ transplant was a kilometer long. But if you were a Made Man…well. There were always bodies with organs they didn’t need anymore somewhere. Even if they were still alive. 

“On second thought, smash this place to dust if they harm a single hair on James’ head,” I told Rosmontis. 

“Of course. Should I leave any survivors?” she asked as calmly as if I told her to sweep up a dropped plate. 

“Yes, don’t destroy the hospital unless you have to, and avoid casualties,” I groaned. Then paused. “Except for any armed combatants who attempt to harm James. Pound them to dust.”

“That’s a good plan. You’re a very kind person,” Rosmontis told me with a small smile. 

“Yes, well, we should probably try and find out what Texas is up to, and if she’s still alive,” I said, pulling out my phone for the first time. I selected a number from my contacts, then sent a quick text message. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. 

Hey, good to hear from you, Sussurro! No, I haven’t heard anything from Texas, but we are still in Nueva Volsinii. Should I message her? 

I groaned and shook my head. “Texas, you idiota lupo.” Then I called Sora. Thankfully, she picked up. 

“Hello! Is Texas with you, Sussurro?” Sora said in chipper tones. 

“No, she thinks Lappland kidnapped you, actually, and I think she’s gone off to try to rescue you.”

Sora audibly groaned. “Are you serious? Why would Lappland…she did this on purpose, didn’t she?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect someone set this up, and my first guess would be Lappland as a matter of fact,” I said. “I’m putting you on speaker. I’ve got a team here, including Ingrid Venezia who is our resident expert on all matters Famiglia.”

“Um, hello!” Sora said, then I heard her yell as though she’d moved the phone away from her mouth, “BOSS! Texas thinks Lappland kidnapped me! Do you think she’s going to do something stupid?”

There was a loud yell that sounded like Emperor, then Sora seemed to put her phone on speaker as well. “A’ight, this is Big E. You brought my girls back? And why the fuck would you let Texas just run off thinking Sora’s been kidnapped? You know that big dumb wolf is sweet on my little pop star.”

“She was somewhat insistent,” Ingrid said, rolling her eyes. “She is a grown woman. And, I confess, I thought the Saluzzo bitch had kidnapped Miss Sora. Or at least was threatening her. It is something the Saluzzos are experts at.”

“Uh huh. Sounds like you blownin’ smoke out your ass and don’t know shit, woman,” Emperor growled. “CROISSANT! Get the keys, we’re going to find those girls ‘fore they do something stupid as hell.”

Ingrid’s tail bristled and I winced, and there was some scuffling. 

“Um, Lucia, how mad was Cellinia?” Sora said somewhat breathlessly, and it sounded like she was moving. 

“She was somewhat committed to killing Lappland if you were in any danger,” I said, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and dragging her outside. Lisa was sitting outside in a chair, and jumped up when she saw the looks on our faces. Ingrid motioned for her to follow, and we dashed to the stairs and hurried down. 

“Do you have any idea where Lappland would be?” I panted as we ran. I didn’t feel good about leaving James, but me being there wouldn’t keep him any safer. And, as much as I loathed famiglia doctors, they had a vested interest in keeping James alive. Being Signoria Sicilia’s personal physicians, they were also likely to be the best in Siracusa. 

“No! She said she was going to be busy for the next few days and left!” Sora cried. “Where are you?!” 

“San Corleone hospital. Can you pick us up? Whatever Texas and Lappland is doing, it’s likely they’ll need a good doctor,” I said, feeling my insides gnaw at themselves as I grew more and more tense. 

“Be there in five,” Emperor said. “Croissant, drive like you stole it.”

“Got it, bawss! Red lights optional it is!” 

It was more like three minutes before a black van that had been spray painted with vivid bright colors and “PENGUIN LOGISTICS” screeched to a halt in front of us and the door popped open.

“Get in!” a frantic Sora urged, and the three of us jumped in. 

“Got a lock on where the two dumb bit-” Emperor began, but paused when a knife appeared at his throat, and Ingrid leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“I have heard that you are immortal,” she crooned softly. “We can either test this, or, you can keep a civil tongue in your head. The choice, it is yours.”

“Well, damn, shawty, I- URK!” 

“Civil. Tongue,” Ingrid growled as the knife drew closer to his throat.

“Mamma-san, I have heard worse,” Lisa said, tugging at her mother’s sleeve.

Ingrid turned and smiled at her daughter. “Oh, mamma is simply having a polite discussion with this liberi. It seems he is not familiar with spending time around children, yes? Sometimes, grownups need reminders as to how to behave themselves.”

“I can watch my language, woman, but you gotta get some help for that temper of yours,” Emperor growled, and Ingrid withdrew the knife, which vanished up one of her sleeves. “And another thing: I ain’t a liberi, no matter what they tell ya.”

Ingrid frowned at Emperor’s reflection in the mirror as he glared at her. “Ah, I apologize, I simply assumed. You are…?”

“The Emperor of all Birds. And iffin ya don’t know what a bird is…well. Maybe they should send mamma-san back to school.”

Ingrid glanced at me, and I shrugged. “The Emperor’s Blade called him a Beast Lord, so I think he is something like one of the Signori dei Lupi.”

“Ah, I see,” Ingrid said with a nod. “You are a god then.”

“Don’t be callin’ that evil down on my head. I’m just a producer, small business owner, and rap star. Only god I recognize is Bruce M. Marshall IV.”

“I am…not familiar with that name,” Ingrid admitted, but Sussurro giggled. 

“He is Enimen! He wrote Rap God.”

“And when did my daughter listen to such music?!” Ingrid gasped, looking deeply mortified at the very thought. 

“U-um, w-well…” Lisa stammered, looking rather embarrassed as we careened through the streets. Croissant, it seemed, did not believe in brakes, or traffic laws, as we were currently driving in the wrong lane at twice the posted speed limit. 

“Hey, that’s good music. And I would know. Kid’s gettin’ an education. Maybe it’s got some fowl language, pun intended, but Bruce has a flow and rhythm like no other. They teach his stuff in college courses now,” Emperor said, even as we were all pressed to the side as Croissant took a corner at a speed that made me worried the van would tip over. 

“Um, can we focus on Cellinia and Lappland?” Sora asked, sounding only slightly hysterical. “Why are they trying to kill one another!?”

“Ah that, it is complicated, but not so much,” Ingrid said, allowing herself to be drawn more or less back on topic. “You see, the Saluzzo, she seems to have learned that you and the Texas have become lovers.”

“Oh, um…I-I did tell her that. She…well, she implied she and Texas used to be together, but, well…they’d broken up years ago,” Sora said, fidgeting nervously. “She seemed to take it ok…”

“The Saluzzo, she is not right in the head,” Ingrid said, shaking her head in disgust. 

“Lappland-san has been very kind to me. She taught me to cook,” Lisa repeated, which made Ingrid grind her teeth.

“Nah, shawty’s right,” Emperor opined. “Lappland, she’s crazier than a pimp on a three-day bender.”

Ingrid growled, and Emperor laughed. “Calm yourself, woman. Save the angry for when we get there. ‘Cause I expect either we’re gonna find them fightin’ or, well the other thing that starts with F, and, well, when those two go at it, they don’t mess around.”

“Lappland-san and Texas-san should be friends. Why do they have to fight?” Lisa asked, tears filling her eyes. 

“It is the poison of Siracusa,” Ingrid told her daughter, stroking Lisa’s hair. “And why mamma-san keeps you in Higashi. Siracusa…her Honor and Blood corrupt all. Even love.”

“Well, then we shall just have to teach them some manners,” Lisa said, her tone going rather serious, the air around her crackling slightly. “And Mamma-san and I are very good at teaching manners.”

“Bawss, we got trouble!” Croissant cried, not taking her hands off the wheel or eyes off the road. However, up ahead, we could see smoke billowing above the agricultural plate, and I groaned. Whatever Texas and Lappland were doing, it involved burning something down.

“STEP ON IT!” Sora shrieked, leaning forward in her seatbelt. “You have to get there before Cellinia does something stupid, or worse, Lappland actually hurts her! I thought they were supposed to be friends, even if they were exes!” 

“As I said. Siracusan love, it is deadly,” Ingrid said grimly, unbuckling herself. “Lisa-”

“Mamma-san! I can help!” Lisa begged.

Ingrid hesitated, then nodded. “Stay with Doctor Sussurro. Provide support. Against the Texas and the Saluzzo…I will need it.”

“Ain’t them ya gotta worry about,” Emperor said as we roared up the driveway to what we could now see was a mansion that had been lit on fire, then demolished by the way the rubble was smoldering. “It’s my old crew. You let me handle them. Why I’m here, after all.”

We skidded to a halt to find Lappland and Texas sitting back to back on a slab of rubble in a pool of blood. A lot of blood. My heart nearly stopped when I saw it, because even with two people, that was enough to be in serious danger of exsanguination. Texas barely even fluttered her eyes open and looked up when Sora ran up to her and cradled her body. I ignored the choir of floating, shadowy wolf spirits and got out my medical kit. I didn’t have what I would need, which was about three units of blood, each, and that was just to start. 

“They’re far gone. I don’t know how much I can do; James is still unconscious,” I said as I took out some bandages. Texas and Lappland had deep lacerations all over their body, but what really scared me was how little they were bleeding. I didn’t know how they were still breathing: probably some manifestation of their combat arts, but if that ran out, they were both dead in seconds. 

Lisa pressed hersefl forward, pulling out her arts wand. “Mamma-san, Sussurro-sensei, let me.” She did know James’ miraculous healing arts, and it was probably about the only hope we had of a successful cure. 

“It is too dangerous!” Ingrid protested, but I cut her off. 

“It cures her oripathy!” I snapped, and Ingrid grimaced and didn’t press further, so I turned to Lisa. “You try, Lisa. I’ll watch. Use whatever arts I can to help.”

She nodded eagerly, and took my hand in hers. “Hai! I must use Bones-sensei’s arts. Here, take my hand, Sussurro-sensei. I will show you how.”

I sighed, even as Lisa stuck her tongue out, concentrating as she grabbed Texas’ arm. “Lisa, I can’t. I’ve tried. I-”

Information, in a language I couldn’t speak nor read, flooded my mind. I saw strange symbols, and felt as though a great key had been inserted into a lock in my mind. It turned, and I felt a door open, as if someone had let me into a room that had always been there, but had previously been hidden and barred to me. 

I blinked rapidly, even as Lisa fainted, still clutching her hand, still holding on to the key. I had missed something, but Ingrid was shouting at me to heal Lappland.

“I…I think I can,” I said, and used my teeth to peel off my glove, then took Lappland’s bloody hand in my own. I could feel it within me. Power. Information. A…language? It was singing in my blood, in my heart. It was the music of not just Siracusa, but the whole world. I raised my mental wand, and began to conduct that music. 

I wove it into a song and spell, and I could feel Lappland’s body. I could see in my mind’s eye what her body should have looked like, whole. I could even sense more of that power in her, but I couldn’t touch it. That door was still locked, for some reason. But there was so much damage…I had to use every ounce of the words within me to fill in the gaps in the story that made up who Lappland Salluzo was. I didn’t even finish before I ran out of power, and I felt myself slip into arts overload, and unconsciousness. 

As I did, the music of the world faded, and I could sense it no more. 

But I had done it.

I had used James’s arts, and I had saved a life. 

Saints and Angels…maybe God did have a plan for us after all.