Elfhome

All this came looping back to Windwolf wanting Tommy to be Beholden. Jin saw them as allies because he thought their fates were linked. They’d be bookends to Tinker and Windwolf. A glorious future of lasting peace, choke-chained by the elves.

“You’re wrong,” Tommy growled. “There’s no happily ever after to chase after. All you did was swap masters; oni for elves. Beholden is just another word for slave.”

Jin gave a bird-like tilt of his head to peer quizzedly at Tommy. “Is that how you see it? I don’t. I see myself as a knight at the Round Table.”

“What?”

“Once upon a time, far, far away.” Jin jumped up lightly to the railing in front of the cage. He startled the owl inside, making it rustle it wings nervous. “On Earth, to be exact, in land called England, there was a king by the name of Arthur Pendragon.”

“I know all about that sword in the stone bullshit,” Tommy roared. “I was raised in Pittsburgh, not on Onihida.”

Jin crouched while still balanced on the railing. “The basis for the legend was that Arthur had many powerful warriors who were tearing the land apart with their petty bickering. He brought them together and made them allies by creating a code of conduct. His code contains virtues such as protection of the weak, courage, mercy, and generosity. It was a code that would not allow them to engage in pointless fighting with each other.”

Tommy scoffed. “What a fairytale.”

“No, no, see it’s actually pure genius. You can’t change other people, you can only change yourself. King Arthur set this high bar, this perfection of justice and good, and said ‘this is what a Knight of the Round Table is’ and then left it up to his warriors to prove to themselves that they could measure up to it.”

“You really believe King Arthur existed? Merlin the magician, living backwards in time?”

“Odder things have happened — to me.” Jin stood and started to walk down the railing as he talked. “But consider a second example: the bushido code that the samurai followed. They believed that the perfect warrior strove to achieve seven virtues.” He ticked them off with his fingers. “Courage. Respect. Honesty. Honor. Loyalty. Benevolence. Righteousness.”

“Get to the damn point.”

“The elves are not asking you to be a slave. They’re offering you a place at the Round Table. All that they ask is that you strive to be a good man. To be truthful. To be just. To be honorable and loyal.”

“Loyal lapdog. I’ve heard how Tinker calls and you come running like a chickens, ready to die in her crazy plan of the day.”

“She is good and kind.” There was steel behind the words. Jin didn’t like people knocking his domi. He stepped down off the railing. “And you know she is. You’ve spent too much time around her not to know.”

“She has you doing things like highjacking dreadnaughts in midair and clearing oni nests.”

“We want to live in peace, and for that, we must create peace to live in.”

Jin locked gaze with him. “Let there be peace between our people. Those that wronged you have been punished. Life your ban.”

“I’ll think about it.”

21: Shadow Boxing

Oni moved through Tinker’s nightmares. They were all through the enclave, slipping unseen into position for attack. No one seemed to notice them, even when the oni were standing right in front of the elves. She whimpered as the oni crept into the room where Pony slept. Her First lay sprawled face down in his bed, confident in the safety of the enclave, his naked back to the invaders. An oni warrior eased a long dagger from his belt and moved silently toward Pony’s bed.

She tried to call out, tried to shout, but the words caught in her throat.

The oni struck downwards and Pony jerked once and then went still. Blood sprayed from the wound, a fountain pulsing to Pony’s still beating heart.

There was a noise behind her and Tinker turned, caught sight of an oni appearing out of no where as if suddenly teleported there, reaching for her. She started to run, bringing up her left hand, fingers crooked in position to summon her shields. The oni caught her by her long braid and jerked her back, slamming her onto the ground.

Stormsong burst into the room, her shields wrapped around her like black mist.

A third oni warrior with a machine gun opened fire on Stormsong as the female sekasha charged toward where Tinker was still pinned on the ground. Stormsong’s shields flared at the striking bullets, again and again, and then vanished. A bullet caught her in the face, dropping her instantly.

“No!” Tinker sat up with a scream.

“Domi, hush, it’s all right, I’m here.” Pony crooned into her ear, his arms around her. The nightmare vanished and she was in her own bed, warm sheets cocooning her and Pony. There was no wound on his bare back — no blood pouring from his neck — yet.

“Oh god! Oh god! There’s oni in the enclave!” She tried to bring up her right hand and cried out as she realized that her arm was bound tight and useless. “No! I need my shields. They’ll kill everyone!”