Page 43 of The Gods Will Sing Our Song

All I need to do is drop it into his grasp. Get something real from the pendant, not just a cheap homework extension. Papa gave it to me, but all it’s been is a splinter. It’s the lack of him, trapped under my skin, driving me mad and unsure of who the hell I am. Splinters need to be yanked out. Even ones you’re used to, even ones you’ve formed scars over.

Why, though, is it so hard to let it go?

“You don’t have to do it.” Violet sounds far away. I look back at her, confused, my mind thrashing through a muddy soup of thoughts. She stares at me intently. “Only if you’re sure.”

Akira, who has been a fan of Violet, glares balefully at her. Then he takes a deep breath and looks at me. With great intentionality, he smiles. I think he’s trying to beguile me, but the sight is awful. His pointed teeth click together, forming bars between his lips, a moist, blackish tongue pressing against them. The crack in his face is so deep, the skin on either side of the crater trembles.

I release the pendant so that I’m only holding the cord.

The fox continues to swing away from him. Trying to get back to me.

I think about Emi reading to me in the closet when we were little. About how it was the only haven in the world, even as it smelled of mops. I’ve never had much, but I’ve always had her and she’s worth anything.

I open my fingers.

It isn’t so hard after all, not with her and the baby in my mind.

The fox falls into Akira’s hands.

He spins away from us, kimono spiraling around him. Holding it aloft, he lets out a triumphant howl. The barrack responds. The koi fish dive in and out of the water. Oda smiles. The bonsai tree, fancy tapestry, and panels shake in pleasure.

“I shall be free of this wretched flesh! I shall shake off these pointy bones!” Akira cries. “The stars and winds and clouds shall be mine again!”

“Whoa, what’s going on?” I ask. Violet looks as alarmed as I feel. “What are you doing?”

“You wished to punish me, oh divine parents, but you have failed,” Akira cries, shouting to the ceiling. He gestures at us. “Stand back!”

He rushes to the bed and removes his box from underneath it, the one I saved, and flung open its top. Dark blue light streams from it, like he’s just unleashed the night sky. I’m stupefied. He holds the fox in the beam and speaks in Japanese, his cadence chant-like. The magic flickers on and off in the barrack, dousing us in darkness and then bringing us back into light.

The fox trembles in his hands, and suddenly one of its ears twitches. I’ve lost my breath before, but seeing that little creature come alive makes my heart stop. Awe fills me, so intensely it’s almost painful. It’s like watching a sparrow hatch after checking on its egg every day on your porch—like seeing a life that’s been tucked inside a shell.

Akira continues chanting. His eyes are closed, and his head tilts back. I think the fox will continue to awaken but it doesn’t. The koi plop back into the basin, and the pots, bonsai, panels, and tapestry become still. Oda winces, as though feeling awkward.

With a growl, Akira stops chanting. He opens one eye and shakes the pendant. Nothing happens. He opens the other eye. Turns the fox upside down. Taps on it in the way you do to see if a melon is good. For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then, in a blink, he’s in my face, so close that I choke on the smell of rotting fish. His eyelids draw so close together that I can see only flashes of furious vertical pupil between them.

“Irreverent boy!” Akira is practically sputtering. “The magic is weak and ineffectual. How dare you bring this drained trinket to me?”

I turn my head askew, heat rising to my face. I’m not sure what he’s saying, but he’s so close and yelling so loud that I’m two seconds away from decking him, god or not. Violet must sense it because she steps forward, drawing Akira’s attention away from me.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“This relic is useless!” Akira keens. “The magic hasn’t been cared for, and it isn’t strong enough. I shall not be delivered. I must watch my own decay, unable to stop it as time brings me to an ill fate.”

Pathetically, he staggers through the barrack. My face is hot, and my body is rigid in comparison to his boneless, dramatic movements. He shuts the box with a snarl, cutting off the light, and sinks to sit on the edge of the bed in despair.

“What do you mean, it isn’t strong enough?” Violet sounds innocent but her eyes are narrowed. It isn’t a casual question. I have to give her credit. “What were you trying to do with the fox?”

“I was trying to—” Akira’s words come out in a rush, but then he cuts himself off. He scowls furiously at her and shakes his head, as though she’s gravely mistreated him. “My ways are divine and not subject to your knowledge.”

“Wait,” I say, trying to calm down, even as my thoughts run headlong in different directions, making me feel like I’m being ripped apart as I stand there. “Did it work? I gave you an offering. You took it. Will my sister be okay?”

“You come with honeyed talk of offerings, present me with a relic practically drained of its magic, and then have the impudence to ask if it worked?” Akira twines the cord of the pendant around his fingers. Then, abruptly, his hand closes around the fox, hiding it from view.

“Yeah,” I say angrily. “That’s the whole point, buddy. That was the whole deal.”

“It most definitely will not work,” Akira thunders. “Not in any way that is meaningful to me.”

It takes everything inside me not to punch the wall. Every muscle in my body locks and jams, needing release, not finding it. I take a long, slow breath through clenched teeth. I make myself loosen up, as hard as it is.