Chapter 61
Long red hair had fallen over Hoku's shoulder as he lowered his head and murmured a few words under his breath.
After several seconds, Hoku gathered himself. Lunhard withdrew his hands, and the towering room gradually came back into focus.
The iron plate had vanished, as had the tarot spread and the small flames that had wavered around his hand. Beyond those traces of the compass, nothing else appeared out of place; the candles still stood one over each of the five symbols.
'…What the hell just happened?'
Before Hoku could think further, his unsteady hand went to his lower abdomen, pressing the fabric until it creased.
Until now, every casting had ended in roughly the same way. Whether the form melted away in his palm or remained as a divination card, it had always ended up somewhere on him.
He reached first for the right back pocket of his trousers, then the opposite pocket, checked his sleeves and cuffs, and searched the inner fold of his waistcoat, but found no trace of the card.
'Shit! Where did it go? What was I supposed to have for this—'
"I confess, I did not expect you to choose the wager first."
Hoku's hand stilled in the open fold as he turned his head.
Just beyond the strange boundary, Lunhard stood half within the weaker candlelight, one hand folded behind his back. In the other, he held the card between two fingers.
Hoku withdrew it and gave the ceiling a long-suffering look.
When his gaze returned to Lunhard, his expression had gone blank.
"…You sound very amused."
"Amused?" Lunhard chuckled. "I had only expected this one to leave a certain impression. Even so, any would have done."
He then flicked the card across his knuckle before holding it out.
Hoku looked him over before taking it by the lower edge.
"I should ask, to be certain," Lunhard went on. "Is this the first time you have cast The Inverted Threshold?"
Hoku considered lying for a beat, then nodded.
"I see." A buoyant smile came over Lunhard as he brought his palms together. "Then no one has told you why Death has one ritual when it is first cast, and another when it reaches its end."
His smile receded as he came closer.
"Each divination produces its own effect. Some archive treatises divide them by aspect, though the distinction remains internal. Once the ritual is initiated, the caster either takes command of the effect or comes under it himself. In most cases, he knows where he stands afterward."
Lunhard drew back a little, folding his hands behind his back again.
"I suspect that explains the second ritual on the card. The Inverted Threshold gives the caster nothing when it is first cast. The first ritual only prepares the reprieve in advance. It cannot take effect as it should until it has the right bearer."
"So The Inverted Threshold isn't actually in effect yet?"
Lunhard shook his head. "Not yet. Fortunately, my elixir falls under the same grade as your divination, so I should be able to help. However, I will need something from you."
'Did it look like I had anything to spare?'
"Then I'm afraid I will not be of much use," Hoku replied frankly.
Lunhard hooked a finger beneath his chin and nodded with apparent seriousness.
"If this were merely a material matter, I would gladly settle it another way. But if you still want my assistance, your signature will do."
He moved to Hoku's side, rested an arm lightly across his shoulders, and guided him away from the mural.
'Signature?' Hoku thought, glancing at the arm over his shoulders. 'He seems to have grown rather comfortable with me already… Did I give him that impression? I thought I'd kept a fair distance so far.'
After a moment's thought, he dismissed the notion.
'No, I shouldn't be petty. He had lent me clothes, after all.'
Lunhard stopped before the desk. Hoku placed both palms on the wood and leaned forward, and Lunhard's arm slipped from his shoulders.
Moving around to the other side, Lunhard pushed the old armchair back with his foot, opened the smallest drawer, and set a full jar of ink near the edge. Then he crossed to the cluttered shelf in the far corner.
Hoku pulled the jar a little closer and tapped the glass three times with his nail. "If it's some form of a contract, you can tell me what I need to do, and we can move on. Would that not be simpler?"
'Though, given how things have gone so far, that is probably impossible.'
Lunhard reached to the highest ledge, took down a book bound in dark red leather, and blew the dust from its cover. A gray powder still clung to the grain, so he brushed it away with his fingers before bringing it back to the desk.
"Since the Inverted Threshold was drawn through your compass, any assistance I provide must be counted as part of your casting. Before that can be arranged, I need a certain stone. Unfortunately, there is more involved than before. In the past, obtaining it would have been no more difficult than opening a box. However… as I am now, I must complete the remaining steps by hand," Lunhard respired solemnly.
"Are those limitations what you spoke of before? The reason this space was preserved?"
Lunhard seemed to consider his answer before softly clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and smiling ruefully.
"Let us leave that account for another time. I doubt I would tell it well," he answered without looking up from the book.
Hoku was taken aback for a moment.
This was the first time Lunhard had turned aside a question with so little disguise. Furthermore, his justification was unlike the evocative manner he had kept until then.
'How well he can tell it is probably beside the point… Perhaps he has no wish to speak of it.'
Lunhard reached toward a tall brass stand near an empty ink jar and took a claret-colored quill, its cut nib stained dark with old ink.
"Regardless, my method is the more reliable one." Lunhard turned it between his fingers, inspecting the nib. "I already possess the material required for a summoning ritual. Someone unfamiliar with such procedures would likely need several attempts."
After setting the pen beside the book, he leafed through several yellowed pages before stopping at a blank spread.
"Strictly speaking, the divination has already been activated, but it still lacks a proper recipient. With no place to go, its effect turned back upon its source. That is why it remains in the form of a card."
Proper recipient? I was the immediate beneficiary of the earlier castings. Why would this one be different?
If no one had received it, then once the interval ended…
Would the reversion still happen?
Drawing the stopper from the jar, Lunhard took the pen up by its shaft and continued, "Once a medium is established for one individual, the Inverted Threshold should be able to assume its true objective. I will arrange the ritual, but the source must come from you. Otherwise, the completed effect will be recognized as mine."
Fresh ink glossed the cut nib as Lunhard raised the pen over the blank spread.
"Then if there is no one to receive it, will it remain incomplete?"
"Without the proper source, the card can only remain as it is, keeping the effect sealed until the allotted period ends. At worst, once the divination concludes with no living recipient in place, that final stage will fall upon the possessor instead."
'I can't be entirely surprised… I chose the Inverted Threshold despite the risk recorded in the inscription; its allusion to wagering my fate made it seem possible to contend with whatever followed. Only, according to Lunhard, the divination had not reached that stage at all. Its effect ultimately was still sealed in the card.'
A few seconds passed before Hoku asked, "…What happens during that phase?"
"Well… without intervention, the recipient eventually dies."
Hoku's knuckles lifted from the desk, turning white.
'Was there anything good about this card at all? If I was unlucky, what did I get besides a delay before the same end?
Bullshit.'
Almost at the same time, Lunhard's wrist moved with practiced ease, laying four rounded strokes around a small center. Between them, he added four narrow leaves, each angled outward and tapering to a point. Finally, he drew a loose circle around the whole mark.
Without looking up, Lunhard twirled the quill between his fingers and said, "You needn't fear being cornered. I mean to orient you until our paths separate; thus, I will do that as I should."
He studied the symbol until it seemed to satisfy him, then offered the quill to Hoku.
"Have you written with one before?"
Hoku's brows slowly knitted together. After a brief pause, he said, "…I've written with fountain pens."
"Good," Lunhard assented. "The principle is similar enough. You only need to write your name in the space at the center. Keep the pressure light and let the nib skim rather than dig. If the tines part, the ink will blot before you finish."
When Hoku accepted the quill, Lunhard slid the open book closer and leaned back in his chair.
Hoku adjusted his hold near the base of the shaft, dipped the nib, and waited for the excess ink to fall back into the jar.
Hoku adjusted his fingers above the nib, dipped it into the ink, and let the excess fall back into the jar. Then he brought it to the page and, without lifting the nib, wrote Hoku between the joined strokes. Hemmed in by the surrounding pattern, the letters were smaller than his usual script.
Lunhard considered the page from his chair, then rose and crossed to Hoku's side.
He laid his palm over the outer circle, and Hoku stood back slightly.
"Place your hand over your signature."
"My hand? Won't it smear the ink?"
Lunhard's thumb made a small smoothing motion above the paper. "Not if you lay your hand flat and keep it still."
'That's not what I was worried about…'
Hoku's shoulders rounded a little as he covered the seal.
The warmth against his skin seemed to be his own at first. It stirred into a current and coursed through the letters at its center.
A dark luster surfaced along the surrounding black strokes. The rosette-shaped seal came apart, its ink unraveling into several narrow filaments before retreating beneath his palm and leaving only a blank page.