Jason Rohan - The Stone of Kuromori

Kenny zoomed in on the photograph and his stomach lurched as he recognised the sticky drips and spatters that formed the writing. The message was written in blood.

Kenny felt the acid tang of bile in the back of his throat. ‘Whose blood?’ he croaked.

‘Not mine, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Kiyomi said, snatching back her phone, ‘although it was all over my hands. Took ages to clean off and I had to wipe the walls down with bleach. Nice way to leave a message.’

Kenny blanched, unable to clear the image from his mind. ‘If it’s not your blood, then . . .’

‘Don’t be such a baby. I checked the fridge and there was a packet of wagyu steak missing.’

‘ You wrote that?’

‘Duh. Hello, Sherlock. Looks like someone can make me write in my sleep as well as walk. Aren’t I talented?’

Kenny rubbed his eyes. ‘Am I allowed to get up now?’

Kiyomi gave a curt nod. Kenny stood and went over to the workstation by the window. He picked up a notepad and jotted down the symbols.

‘These numbers,’ he said. ‘What do they mean? Is it some kind of code? A puzzle? Some ancient language?’

Kiyomi rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such an idiot sometimes. Give me that.’ Kenny handed her the pad and for a moment the only sounds were the scritching of the pen and a quiet scrunching from the kitchen. ‘Here.’ Kiyomi held out the pad.

Kenny took it and read:

24°2'55.2'N 123°00'39.6'E

‘Oh, man. This is some kind of mathematics problem? Am I supposed to draw it?’ He scratched his head.

‘They’re coordinates. You know, as in finding things on a map.’ Kiyomi took the pad back and drew a circle on a fresh page. ‘This is the earth, right?’ She drew a horizontal line through the middle and a vertical one, cutting it in quarters. ‘This is the equator. Sideways lines are latitude. Down through the poles is longitude. Zero is Greenwich in London. Got it?’

‘Yeah. And because it’s a globe, it’s three hundred and sixty degrees in any direction, right?’

‘No. That works for longitude, but you count one hundred and eighty degrees east or west of Greenwich to make a complete circle.’ She drew arrows pointing to the left and right. ‘For latitude, it’s ninety degrees north or south of the equator. OK?’

Kenny furrowed his brow and closed his eyes to visualise the planet. ‘So, twenty-four degrees north of the equator is about a quarter of the way up . . . and a hundred and twenty degrees east of London is about two-thirds of the way to the International Date Line . . .’

‘Why don’t you use that big shiny box called a computer, before your brain has a meltdown?’ Kiyomi flicked her head in the direction of the monitor.

‘Fine,’ Kenny grumbled, powering up his dad’s clunky desktop. He called up a browser window, found a mapping site and keyed in the coordinates. The cursor flashed on a page of blue.

‘Zoom out,’ Kiyomi advised.

Kenny clicked on the scale and a grey, clam-shaped blob appeared at the top of the screen. He clicked again, shrinking the island, and continued zooming out until the state of Taiwan filled the page to the left.

‘Keep going,’ Kiyomi said.

Kenny waited until Japan appeared, on the top right, then sat back and whistled through his teeth. ‘Wow. That’s on the doorstep of China. It’s closer to Korea than it is to here.’ He hit the print button. ‘So why were these coordinates given to you? Where is this?’

Kiyomi crossed her arms. ‘I’m not telling you anything until you explain what the hell is going on.’

‘Hell is right,’ Kenny muttered, taking the map from the printer.

‘Well?’ Kiyomi glared again.

Kenny hesitated. He was sworn to secrecy, unable to tell a soul about the deal he had made with Susano-wo, the dread Lord of the Underworld. On the other hand, what was he supposed to do now that Susano-wo had shown himself to Kiyomi? Not only had he dropped Kenny in it, he had also given Kiyomi important information to deliver.

‘OK,’ Kenny sighed. ‘You’re right. Susano-wo offered me a deal.’

‘I knew it!’ Kiyomi said, her face twisting in fury. ‘To do what?’

Kenny looked away. ‘It was for you. For your soul.’

Kiyomi froze. ‘Wh-What?’

Kenny’s rubbed his stinging eyes again. ‘Back in July, when you . . . died – not all of you came back. The missing part was made up by Taro, and his oni soul began taking over, gaining control.’

‘Oh my God!’ Kiyomi gasped in horror. ‘The red jade ring – it was from Susano-wo, wasn’t it?’

Kenny nodded. ‘It was half of your missing soul. That’s why you’ve been feeling better, why the oni part has been weaker this past month.’

‘And what did you have to do?’ Kiyomi said, her voice a horrified whisper. ‘What did he demand in return?’

Kenny shrugged, but it was stiff and awkward, the complete opposite of the nonchalance he was trying to project. ‘He wanted some trinket, that was all.’

Kiyomi’s hand went to her mouth. ‘You gave him the Mirror of Amaterasu? Please, no. Tell me you didn’t.’

‘I did it for you,’ Kenny said, reaching out to take her hands. ‘To save your life. I had to do something.’

Kiyomi jerked her hands out of reach, shrinking from Kenny’s touch. ‘We have to go to Inari,’ she said, turning towards the door. ‘Right now.’

‘What? No way!’ Kenny declared.

‘Why not?’ Kiyomi paused in the hallway.

‘Because she’ll try to stop me.’

‘Good. Someone has to.’

‘And then what happens to you?’ Kenny blinked, trying to stem the tears suddenly brimming in his eyes. ‘And me? I won’t be able to survive here without you.’

Kiyomi bit her lip and stepped back into the living room. She placed a hand on Kenny’s arm. ‘It’s for the best.’

He pulled back. ‘Says who? What’s the big deal anyway?’

‘Kenny . . .’ Kiyomi’s voice was low, the warning tone unmistakable. ‘You have no idea who you are messing with, or how much trouble we’re all in.’

‘No, I don’t, so tell me.’ Kenny stared at her defiantly.

‘That mirror isn’t just any old relic, like the ones your grandad used to recover. It’s sacred . It holds some of the essence of the Sun Goddess herself, but – more importantly than that – it’s also one of the Three Sacred Treasures, the Imperial Regalia.’

‘Which means what?’

Kiyomi grabbed Kenny’s shoulders and fought the urge to throttle him. ‘Do you have any idea how dangerous, cunning, unpredictable, manipulative and plain old psycho Susano-wo is? He was crazy enough to start with, but thousands of years in Hell have hardly helped. He’ll trick you, first chance he gets.’

‘No, he won’t,’ Kenny said. ‘He’s kept his word so far – including healing you, I should add – and, if he does try anything . . . then me and Kusanagi will be ready for him.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Kiyomi released her grip and lowered her head, a curtain of black hair surrounding her face. ‘So, you did a deal to restore my soul? You went to the Lord of the Underworld . . . just for me?’

Kenny smiled. ‘Yeah.’

Kiyomi stroked his cheek. ‘Aw. That was sooo sweet –’ Kenny closed his eyes and relaxed a little ‘– and so stupid!’