As I hopped into her car and strapped on a seat belt, Vi regarded my reflection in the rearview mirror. The ignition rumbled and she drove at a thankfully regular pace. “Do you want to tell Sven and Alicia about your mark?”

  “This?” I tugged my sleeve to indicate the black dot. She nodded. My reply was stiff. “You’re suggesting I get my throat slit? Why?”

  Vi cocked her head processing what I’d said. Her hands briefly tightened on the wheel. “That spell ties your energy to its onmyoji. You may consider it a double-edged sword. Keep it and it may benefit you for a time. It won’t harm you unless trouble happens to its caster.”

  “The caster? Wait, wouldn’t that be Frog-Eater?”

  “Do you think that will happen?”

  I assumed that was a yes. “Not really.” I had barely met the woman but I couldn’t picture Frog-Eater being in danger.

  “This person you are dealing with is thinking ahead. That should mean something for you.” She gave me a pointed look.

  “I…don’t want her to get in trouble?”

  A short silence. “Close enough. You are being pulled to a side in a conflict. Maybe Sven could tell you more. I’m not very good at talking.”

  “Sven doesn’t want me around. Plus Alicia will be with him, and I don’t know if you know but she’s really a knife-wielding girl—I mean a yokai—who said I should stay away or else.” I fingered my bandage on my neck.

  “Up to you. Talking to Sven would help him. I’ll be with you.” She added, “Don’t touch that.”

  I considered in silence. The idea of facing a murderous cat girl made my chest constrict but I was slightly assured having a waitress/maid/kitsune by my side. The question was if that was worth the risk. I was hungry for answers, and Sven was still my friend struggling with recovering those books, but I could also do what he and Alicia told me and walk away forever.

  Vi spiraled her car down three levels of a parking garage, which was a good representation of my mental state. Until now my debt had been just an estimate, an abstract idea, but as we approached the East Mall that was becoming more and more solid. I braced like I was running headlong towards an iron wall. Once I step into Kinokuniya, there’s no going back. I had equal urges to run out the door and to throw up. The wolf plushie in the car received extra hard cuddles.

  A weight pressed down. I mumbled. “How do you say ‘I fudged up’ in Japanese again?”

  I wasn’t prepared for a response but Vi answered quietly. “Moushiwake arimasen.”

  Before I knew it the car slid to a stop. Vi unlocked my door and swept out pulling it open. “Go on ahead. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  I stepped out carrying Kojiki in the crook of an arm, under my jacket, and my free hand stuffed in a pocket. I guess it’s only right that I walk in by myself. I did steal it.

  It was amazing how fast a familiar place became oppressive. The elevator ride up was cramped and dim. When sliding doors opened lights hit me like searchlights shining down on an escaped convict. Families and young couples cast unconcerned gazes but I could only feel very wrong keeping my head up, that I was tricking everyone and pretending innocence every second.

  I winded past book piles and display cases in Kinokuniya to the counter. The galaxy itself apparently conspired against me, because who would greet me except the eagle-faced old lady I’d encountered when I’d first picked up Kojiki.

  I seized up as she pierced me with a withering gaze. “I, uh, stole this.” My voice faded at the end but I pulled out Kojiki and set it on the table.

  The eagle’s face took on lines of a wrinkled prune. One which was becoming red and about to explode. She screamed, “You! Do you know what you’ve done? This was not for sale!”

  I flinched and eyed the counter. Why did it have to hurt so much fixing a Bad Thing? For an old-school woman in a fixture of Japantown, a regular “I’m sorry” wouldn’t do. “Moushiwake arimasen.” I bowed low.

  The elderly lady exhaled heavily through her long nose. She whipped the book towards her and grasped it hard in gnarled, bony fingers. Then she swung open a little side entrance at the counter and crooked a finger.

  I had an inkling of what this was about. The staff member led me to a door which opened into darkness. The backend of the shop. It seemed fitting to me, that my taste of a different life would end as it began. The old lady pushed the door open and fetched a clipboard with forms attached, filling it out with a pen. A lonely lamp clicked on and barely illuminated our positions. Then she cracked open Kojiki and flipped to the box of treasures I’d opened.

  She grimaced at the hollowed-out hole on which the container sat. “Such a travesty,” she grumbled. “People in power these days care nothing for tradition.” I kept my mouth shut.

  The lady opened the box and her eyes practically seared holes at the place where a mirror used to be, and at the formerly crooked spoon. She took a paper on a clipboard and wrote a string of numbers down. It was hard to make out in the light.

  She turned a page in Kojiki. A loud scoff formed in her throat as she regarded a ripped portion of papers.

  “That wasn’t me,” I muttered.

  When she wheeled and looked daggers at me, I found it hard to say anything in my own defense. “I broke the mirror and the spoon, but I didn’t—I didn’t—” I couldn’t finish. I glanced away.

  Her long, loose sleeves flapped and she jammed a finger at my chest. She squawked, shaking her arm, “Lying won’t help you, girl. Do you think we’re stupid?”

  A hand tapped my back and I jerked up, looking over my shoulder. Vi stood in her waitress uniform. I supposed that made sense since even Vi would figure a server in a crowded mall, dressed as a maid, would attract attention. She must’ve walked over, though there’d been no clack of the heels she wore.

  “Excuse me. Have the other tengu reported another missing book?”

  The eagle woman fixed Vi with a long, skeptical stare. “Patrolling is not my job. I leave that to the young ones and the corps. I stay in my corner as you should yours, Ms. Seiren.” The old lady flipped through the clipboard. Her face darkened. “Man’yoshu has not been accounted for.”

  “Would it be reasonable to assume whoever took ritual items in Man’yoshu also attempted to take Kojiki, but was interrupted by security?”

  The old woman scowled.

  I jumped in. “You’re missing one more. A woman took Uji Shui Monogatari.”

  The elder shook her head, gray locks flying in a tangle around her. A vein twitched on her forehead. She bared yellowing teeth. “What a time of misfortune,” she hissed.

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  Vi inclined her head. “Cecelia didn’t take the second box. I can vouch for her on this.”

  The staff member opened her mouth to question me further, but closed it as she gave Vi an uneasy glare. She could not quite meet the other’s blue eyes, like she was afraid to look into them.

  The crone scribbled onto a form and then tore a slip off, shoving the scrap onto my palm. “Call this number. His name is Takahito. You will address him as His Highness. Tell him what you have done. This is not only for your own sake, girl. If you do not confess the authorities will be seeking to tan my hide and many others also.”

  I nodded. My grip on the paper was unyielding as the old lady shooed me out of the bookstore with flicking motions.

  “Out! Out!”

  As soon as we were out of earshot I murmured to Vi at my side. “Calling someone His Highness is real presumptuous, isn’t it?”

  Vi had slowed her own walk to match my stride. She rested her umbrella over her shoulder. “Prince Takahito is our closest connection to the Emperor’s family in Japan. He lives in San Francisco.”

  “Oh.” I peered at the crumpled paper. The string of digits on it was a phone number.

  The staff member had also added a name in hiragana, phonetic lettering, in big black curving symbols. I assumed that was the prince’s name because she didn’t want me to butcher its pronunciation.

  “What did that lady mean by authorities coming after her?”

  Am I going to get that crone fired? What about the rest of the workers?

  My voice started trembling and I couldn’t stop it. “I never meant to give Kinokuniya a bad reputation. I don’t want it to close down or lose customers.” My insides got dumped with a bucket of cold water.

  “I believe you.” Vi pulled a plushie from her apron. It was the white wolf one. “She meant the yokai community in San Francisco. We are self-governing as a habit but tradition puts us under the authority of the Emperor. Many of us have roots in Japan.”

  “Huh. Is the emperor a yokai?” Without thinking my arms grabbed the proffered stuffed animal. How’d you fit that in your dress?

  I wished she would be a fox again so I could squeeze her like a living blanket. Stupid, selfish, stupid idea, I scolded myself.

  “No. He is descended from the sun goddess.” She might as well have been talking about the weather.

  “Amaterasu?”

  Vi tilted her head in a silent question. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder. “Read about her in Kojiki.”

  She nodded.

  Okay, I should stop asking questions and making myself dread this even more.

  The wait was grating on my nerves. You’d think apologizing would give me the dollar amount I owed, but no, I had another misery-inflicting song and dance to perform out of nowhere. Kind of like scheduling a major doctor’s appointment only to learn insurance wouldn’t foot the bill, and then calling up insurance and being put on hold.

  I took a deep breath as my fingers hovered over my phone dial. “Might as well get this over with.” I punched in the number.

  The phone chimed six times before a man answered. “Hello, Takahito here.” The stranger had a mellow but business-like voice. He had an articulate accent which made me think he’d attended a fancy English university in his youth. I imagined this guy presented a lot at board meetings as a CEO at a humongous company.

  In contrast I sounded frail, like a kitten which had spent a night dumped in a cardboard box and soaked in rain. “My, my name is Cecelia and I broke two museum items.”

  “Sorry? I couldn’t hear you.”

  I cleared my throat and had an overwhelming desire to beat myself to a pulp. “I broke a spoon and a mirror in a lockbox. I was told they were national treasures.”

  “I see.” A short silence passed which felt like an eternity. A faint tapping which might have been from a phone or computer echoed. “This is regarding our international auction in SF, is that correct? Yes, I recently received a message regarding this.”

  “I’m very sorry,” I stammered out.

  “I will relay your sincere apology to His Majesty the Emperor. Can you give me further details to identify the items?”

  “The mirror had four lands and a bunch of animals.” I struggled through a fog of memory. “And the spoon was bronze. It was an ink spoon.”

  He spoke like he was reading from a museum catalog. “Mirror with sea and islands. Kaiki-kyo. Gilt bronze spoon. Kondo saji. Is that correct?”

  “Yeah.”

  Buttons clacked on the line. “You must understand those treasures were priceless. However, we calculate the formal reparations you owe the government of Japan to be—392 million yen, or approximately 2.5 million US dollars, or its equivalent in value.”

  2.5 million?! My pulse almost gave out right then and there. “Please, Your Highness.” I hated how I begged. “I’m a high schooler. I didn’t even know I was a yokai until a few days ago. It was completely an accident. Is there any way we can work out an alternative? I don’t want to burden my family with this. They did nothing wrong.”

  The man sighed. He blew through his lips. “Yokai must abide by human law. This has been a direct decree from the Emperor since the Meiji Restoration. For the sake of His Majesty and the reputation of his vassals in Japantown, it is imperative a culprit be identified and given a strong punishment. I cannot reduce your debt.”

  “Why? Isn’t this kind of extreme?” My blue-eyed wolf plushie was in a one-armed chokehold as I pressed the phone to my ear for dear life. “Can’t you throw me in jail instead?”

  Annoyance crept in the man’s voice. “I am not sure who suggested that to you, but I assure you the Japanese government in the Diet and the Emperor do not want to be known for throwing minors into prison for stealing.”

  A life debt doesn’t sound any nicer. “What about community service?”

  “The Emperor must appease any public perception and smooth the situation over. This requires a strong hand on the offender. Do you understand?”

  “But you can’t blame everything on me—” I stopped as I understood that was exactly the point.

  Yeah. I’m a scapegoat.

  Giving them money is good for the government's coffers, and saying I owe a debt instead of rotting in jail would definitely save face for Japan. They can say in the news they caught a criminal and no other—yokai?—can be blamed for doing it. Takahito saves his own butt as an official. This much, I figured.

  “Please provide me your name and residential address so we may mail you an official form describing your debt.”

  I did.

  “Thank you. If that is all, then we can conclude here.”

  “Wait!” My chest thudded. An idea flew into my head. A crazy one, to be sure, but the best option without dragging my mom and dad into this. I switched to a formal address. “Takahito-sama, one minute. The other treasures.”

  “What?”

  I looked from the phone to Vi. She had a small smile as she understood. “You’re missing other treasures. A dragon pitcher, two bronze spoons, an ink pot, an ink stand, and more. Surely those treasures are worth at least 2.5 million dollars.”

  A short silence reigned from my speaker. The man’s voice was cautious. “What do you mean?”

  “If I help you recover those items, can you mark that as my repayment? You said that amount or its equivalent. I’m pretty sure precious metals and treasures count as currency.”

  Prince Takahito exhaled loudly and with tension. “You are aware of our difficulties, then. I believe our forces in SF are capable of recovering those treasures. However.” He paused. “If you have information they need, if you can work with them in a formal agreement, and if you recover the treasures, then I am sure Japan would be willing to forgive your debt. Just this once.”

  That was a lot of ifs. A shooting star’s chance but I’d take it. “I’ll do it. Don't worry, Your Highness.”

  “I wish you luck.” He ended the call.

  I fell silent as tightness ebbed through my body.

  Vi patted me on the shoulder. “Apologizing is not an easy thing. I’m proud of you.”

  My face reddened. I gave her back the plush. My hands were steadier. Firmer. I knew what to do. “Let’s find Sven.”