Zanzibar the Magician - Unleashed

10 || SOUL HARVEST

Confusion reigned as the two intrepid heroes stepped through the portal. Both had expected it to lead them elsewhere - anywhere - other than where it did.

"How the blazes..?" Jim began as he shed the army uniform. Once more bedecked in his blue costume and white shroud, he stood, open-mouthed and decidedly perplexed.

They were on the same site where they had passed through the portal - Governors Island - although it was more of an alternate environment to the one they'd left behind. This version was deserted, no on-going construction or military personnel present, and no view beyond its shores; just a thick fog, encircling the island, held to ransom by a deep, ominous thrumming; Sorcery.

Zee's appearance rippled, gradually morphing back to her tuxedoed-self as her eyes squinted, trying to see beyond the mists. Her palms felt warm, invigorated by her brand of sortilege, which was steadily rising to the fore. 

But, whatever sorcery their adversary was manipulating, it was interacting with Zee, almost singing to her; and its key was dark, menacing - something she did not welcome.

Laughter echoed through the haze, like that of children playing in a vast, empty mansion. The undercurrent in this instance, however, was distinctly unplayful; it emanated all around, causing the fog to fluctuate, shift and swirl. Then the mists started to dissipate, the view ahead clearing to the boundaries of the island.

A woman, who could only be Chiyo Natsumi, stood in front of several more portals positioned around the vicinity; a semi-circle of mystical gateways. 

Natsumi was extraordinarily beautiful, skin, like alabaster, almond-shaped eyes and cherry lips. She was the epitome of a Geisha, apart from her ebony hair which she wore loose; long and lustrous, floating freely on the currents of her magic. And she was wearing the stolen, mystical garment.

The white rinzu silk kimono was adorned with colourful images - cherry-blossom trees, cranes, regal and proud, pagodas atop mountain peaks. At first glance, it appeared to be an exquisite work of art, tailoring of the finest quality. But beneath those beautiful pictures and embroidery, a writhing mass lurked.

Not unlike Boticelli's La Mappa dell' Inferno, figures moved in funnel-like formations from the hem of the garment up over the fabric. Natsumi stood, chanting, arms outstretched, head back, eyes raised to the sky. She was in the process of a summoning spell.

From the portals, spectral images of herself emerged. They all converged on the witch's physical being, and soon only one Chiyo Natsumi stood before the two heroes.

Jim shuddered and looked askance at Zee. "Have you any idea what we're facing?" he whispered.

Zee took a deep breath. "Not really."

"Well, that's comforting," Jim mumbled.

Almond eyes suddenly focused on the two investigators and a voice, smooth as honey spoke. "Ah, visitors, I see. Have you come to witness the glory of the Imperial Armies?"

"We have already bore witness to the destructive force of your country's military, Miss Natsumi."

The woman smiled, dismissive, and a flicker of blue-fire crossed her eyes. "Ah, you know who I am. So, I take it you know my purpose?"

Zee nodded and watched, silent, as Natsumi levitated above the portals, light laughter tumbling from her lips. "I sensed someone was following me, we have a magical connection it seems." 

The tuxedoed magician glared.

Natsumi was not fazed by Zee's evident distrust. "I gather you are in the employ of Mr Lombard?"

"I am associated with the case certainly," Zee replied. "And I know about the kimono's curse."

"Curse?" Natsumi shrieked with laughter. "It is no curse; it is a gift. One which Emperor Hirohito will welcome and embrace. And it will redeem my family's name."

"You are deluded," Zee argued. "There is no honor in using the dead; let them find peace. And besides, your ancestor's farming of old warrior souls will be nothing compared to the military might at Hirohito's disposal."

Again, the witch laughed. "Oh! You think only those from the time of Emperor Jimmu, were harvested? You foolish American, you think death is the end of all things. This kimono has never slept nor shirked it's duty just because the original conjurer died."

Zee was stunned, but tried her best not show it. "Am I to understand the soul harvest has continued all this time? Collecting even those of this war?" she asked.

"Indeed. And the numbers are... endless. Look!"  With a long elegant sweep of her arm, the witch pointed to the portals.

The investigators stared as the numerous gateways pulsed and grew brighter. From deep within, mere specks in the distance steadily grew, their forms compressing, their numbers vast. Moving steadily forward, regiments marched, all from different eras of Japanese history. They carried with them swords, polearms, staffs, spears and bows. Most were attired unlike anything of a modern militia, but their intent was just as fervent. Their eyes blazed red, and their mouths were set in ardent determination.

Then a sprinkling of others joined the mix - modern-day soldiers with Arisaka rifles and Nambu pistols at the ready. 

Zee's magic spiked, and tendrils of azure-coloured magic spilt from her fingers. She was readying for battle.

"Bejesus!" Jim gasped as the witch's acroamatic army closed in on the portals' thresholds. "What in the name of Christ do we do now?"

Zee's magic sizzled and projected from her hands, hitting dry earth, sending up dust clouds in its wake. Her sortilege was coursing through her veins, tempestuous, primitive, about to be unleashed. 

She gauged the distance between themselves, the witch, and the army of the dead. There was only one option, daunting though it was.

"We need to fight and close those portals before we are overrun. Plus, we cannot allow any of them into our dimension either." 

She stared hard at the six-foot-two tower of muscle, clad in blue with his white shroud rippling around his head and shoulders. "Time to earn your name - Banshee."