Zanzibar the Magician - Unleashed

7 || A LEXICON OF LITURGIES

Zee closed the volume and ushered Jim to the door. 

"That's a big book. We can't hope to just walk out with that tucked under an arm," Jim said.

"I know," Zee replied. "Do you think I would steal it?"

Jim fidgeted, uneasy. "I prefer to think of it as borrowin'," he said with a sheepish look on his face.

"Yes, well, that's what I meant." Zee grinned, her mirth hidden by her hat brim. Arcing her hands above the book, she then muttered an incantation. 

The air warped around the volume like ripples, a pulse, and the tome began to shrink. Once it was the size of a small notepad, Zee slipped it neatly into her pocket. 

She looked up at an awe-inspired Jim. "Shall we?" She smiled and moved ahead of the Irishman to the door.

Descending the marble staircase, they met Mrs Wainright. Her stern look was no more mellow for all they were leaving.

Poised in her fitted blue suit and matching court-shoes, the Administrator stood before them, hands clasped together, somewhat matriarchal. "Did you find anything?" she asked, curt.

"No, nothing I'm afraid. The police have indeed been thorough," Zee replied with aplomb.

Mrs Wainright's lips curved in a sanctimonious smile; her aloofness, once more to the fore. "I did not think there would be, but I'm glad your curiosity is sated."

Zee stiffened slightly, and a warm ripple of static ran up her arm. She held Mrs Wainright's stare with confidence. An urge to bite back overwhelmed her and before she could stop herself, the words spilt from her lips. "I will leave curiosity to those in your and comparable professions, Mrs Wainright. I can assure you my experience comes from much more than mere dabbling in exoticism. There are still loose ends, and you can be assured I will tie them off before long." 

The Administrator's smile vanished. 

With a polite but slightly awkward nod, Jim handed back the key for the Curator's office to Mrs Wainright. "Thank you, ma'am," he said and continued down the stairs. 

"Good day, Mrs Wainright. It has been - a pleasure." Zee tipped her fedora then walked towards Jim, who now waited in the entrance hall.

Zee was well aware the Administrator was watching them; no doubt relieved they were going but probably also irritated her sense of superiority was countered. Nevertheless, it did not escape Zee's notice that her response to the woman had been very unlike her true self. Usually, she -(he) - would have simply smiled and thanked Mrs Wainright for her time and assistance. But, Zee had reacted very differently - as if interpreting the Administrator's retort as a challenge. She was pondering the instance when Jim's voice interrupted.

"That was a tad savage, was it not?"

Zee blushed - her reaction yet another inexplicable variation in her psyche. She lowered her head and kept walking to the exit. "You could say I'm taking a leaf from your book, Jim," she replied.

"Huh?"

"I say it as I see it!"

The Irishman raised his eyebrows but commented no further and followed the magician.

Back at Zee's apartment, she asked Jim to make a pot of coffee. He complied without objection while she placed the shrunken tome on the kitchen table. 

Shedding her jacket and fedora, she loosened her bow tie and collar before starting a restoration spell. The effort was unusually taxing - it was not a complex spell per se, but returning the book to its proper size took longer than anticipated. Zee's fingers trembled, and a trickle of perspiration traced down her brow to her temple. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Jim thrust a mug of coffee in front of Zee.  She glanced at the Irishman, noting a look of disquiet on his rugged features. 

"Don't worry," she assured him, then took a sip of her coffee. "It is normal for spells to drain the wielder - it is the nature of magic. But, I confess this was exceptional. There is a charm within the book which seems to have created countermeasures; locks, for want of a better description."

"Really? Then how were you able to even touch it before, let alone read it?"

Zee grinned. "These spells are often designed to trigger only if another magic is introduced. Otherwise,  inconspicuous items such as this book, raise no suspicion nor afford any clues."

Jim laughed. "You magical folk! I wouldn't have found anything specific other than seein' it as a possible history book - like the many others in that office. Maybe that's how the police saw it?" 

"Most likely."

Zee then started to flip through the book, using telekinesis to turn the pages. While reading, she made a series of sounds - "Hmm", "Ah-ha", "Ooh". 

Jim meanwhile supped his coffee, waiting patiently for Zee to offer a translation. 

Eventually, Zee looked up, a look of quiet victory within her eyes. "This is a lexicon of liturgies."

"English please," Jim said, stone-faced.

"A collection of ancient rites. It is steeped in legend from around 660 BC, during the reign of Jimmu Tenno, a descendant of the sun goddess Amaterasu, who became the first Emperor of Japan. But this is a personal account of one of his advisors."

"Alright, but it's still a history lesson, am I right?"

Zee took another sip of her coffee before proceeding. "It's more than that, Jim. It also explains why this book is oozing magic. It's author dabbled in the arts - he was a kitsune-tsukai; a witch who uses a fox as a familiar. He intended to overthrow the Emperor and take the throne for himself."

"So it's an autobiography in the form of a grimoire?"

Zee smiled. "Yes, you could say that.  It also mentions a kimono, which, going by the description, is the very one which was stolen."

"Now, how the hell does a piece of simple silk survive all that time?" Jim asked, pouring another cup of coffee for himself.

"Magic, of course. Dark magic at that. It harbours the souls of dead soldiers - a ghostly militia. From what I can decipher, the witch intended to call them forth to defeat the Emperor and his armies. But the Emperor must have discovered the plot, for the text seems unfinished."

"Okay. It's feasible our suspect has been searching for an artefact from her homeland, but to the point o' stealin'? Why? She was in the perfect position to acquire it for the museum - any museum for that matter."

"Ah, well, that is probably down to the identity of the witch from all those years ago, my friend." Zee looked at the Irishman, knowing full well the pennies would drop.

Jim put down his cup. "Doan tell me - an ancestor?"

"Correct." Zee smiled.  "Rokurō Natsumi."

"Does that mean-?"

"Miss Natsumi is most likely a witch too?"

Jim nodded, a look of dread gripping his face.

"I believe it may."