“Gather your fliers and notes, Troy, and set them out on the table, please,” my mom instructed as she climbed to her feet. Looking down at me, she added, “Briseis, join me in the kitchen to help me prepare some tea. Then we will look over all of the information we have a consider what to do next.”
Troy must have already gathered up all of the fliers that had been scattered across the carpet while mom and I were dream walking, but he scooped up the stack of papers and my hot pink composition book from the coffee table and headed to the dining room. He kept his head down and didn’t reply to my mom’s order at all. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was upset by her telling him what to do or if he was still uneasy from having been caught in his big fat lie.
“Since when do you need my help making tea?” I muttered as I trudged into the kitchen after her.
“Since I wanted to have a quick chat with you while I made it, for one.” She started. “Also, I thought you could use a quick lesson in herbs, or at least get to learn about this one since I’m using it in your kitchen.”
“What do you want to chat about, ma?” I asked, skeptically. In my experience, any conversation that started with those words was going to be a conversation I didn’t particularly want to have.
“Do you remember when you called me about your vision, and I told you tat you were special and that you can hear the lies and the truths that are spoken to you?” She asked.
“Um, I guess so” I said. “What about it?”
“You can hear when you are being lied to,” she explained. “And you can hear when you are being told the truth, Kit.”
“You mean with Troy?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm. That is exactly what I mean.” She said. “You have always been able to tell when someone is lying to you, and you know that.”
“I mean, sure, I guess. But I didn’t know he was lying to me this whole time, mom.” I sighed. “How am I supposed to know if he is lying now. Wait a second. Do you know? Could you tell if he was telling the truth? Did you know he wasn’t before?”
“Well, I’m not sure it is that simple in this case. At least in terms of him not being completely forthcoming to begin with. He didn’t actually lie to you, did he? He just didn’t tell you that he already knew a little bit about kitsune or that he had spent some time studying Yokai.”
“Isn’t lying by omission still lying?” I asked.
“In a way, it is, yes. I did have a feeling that your friend was hiding something. That is why I wanted to discuss your star ball in private. I wasn’t convinced that it would be safe to tell you about it and what it could do in front of someone that wasn’t being completely transparent.”
“And you didn’t say anything,” I accused.
“Again, Briseis, it is not that simple. For one, I wasn’t sure if he was hiding something from you or if there was just something he wasn’t comfortable with your mother knowing. Also, despite knowing that he had a secret of some sort, I had no reason to believe that he was a danger to you. Everybody has secrets.” She explained. “I think, if he had actually lied to you about something important, you would have picked up on it. I also think if he were not worthy of your trust, you would have picked up on that as well.”
“But I still don’t know if he is telling the truth, mom,” I whined.
“I think you do,” she countered.
“You think he is?” I asked.
“I do, yes.” She continued, “however, I don’t want you to be in this situation and having to worry about whether or not you can trust the people that you are depending on to get you through this. I think you should talk to him about the situation and really listen to what he has to say. Decide for yourself if you believe him.”
“Okay. I will,” I promised.
“But” she continued, “not right now. Right now, we have Matcha to brew and work to do.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I moved over to the counter where she had laid out a small bowl of hideous green powder and was setting up a tea tray. “What the hell is that?”
“Matcha,” she replied. “Were going to drink it as a tea to create a state of calm and focus while we work.”
“Uh-huh,” I said as I filled the kettle with water. Placing it on the stove, I asked, “are we supposed to drink that straight or can I get some sugar and honey to add to it… or replace it?”
“Grab the honey,” she instructed as she sifted a small amount of the green powder into three mugs.
When the kettle began to scream, she pulled it from the stove and waved me over. “Matcha is a little different than most tea,” she told me. “Watch.” She poured a small amount of water into each mug whipped a whisk back in forth in each one. After it appeared sufficiently disgusting, like muddy green swamp water, she instructed me to fill the mugs and strode out of the kitchen.
“What is that?” Troy asked as I set the tray on the table, and he got a look at the frothy green witch’s brew my mother intended to have us drink.
“There’s honey,” I supplied.
"Quit being babies and try it,” my mother said at the sight of his grimace.
After a liberal squirt of honey, it actually wasn’t that bad. So, we settled in to drink out atcha tea and review what we knew about our victims.
“So here is what we know,” I said. “Helena was walking home, alone, in a gated community when someone snuck up on her from behind and then she woke up in a cavern in the woods. Jess met a guy at The Lounge and was making out with him in the alley when she started feeling dizzy, and then woke up in a cavern in the woods. Three other girls are in that cavern with them, although we only know the identity of one of them.”
“Ashley Helms,” Troy interjected. “She went missing three days ago and was last seen in the middle of campus as far as anybody knows.”
“Right,” I agreed. “We need to know more about the other two girls. Who are they and when were they taken? Honestly, Troy, neither of them looked like they were going to be able to hold on much longer. I think it is safe to assume that they were taken a little while before Helena was.”
“Okay. We can take another look at those fliers and see if we can match them up.” He said as he wrote that down.
“A couple of other things of note,” my mom chimed in. “Helena said that Jess was the only girl in the cavern that has been forced to wear a blindfold. Why is that?”
“That is weird,” Troy allowed, scribbling furiously.
“And Jess said that the guy made a comment about her smelling like a fox when he first approached her,” I added.
Troy’s head snapped up from his notebook at that. “What?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how I feel about that part,” I conceded. “Do you think he knew that she’s my roommate? Or that I’m a kitsune?”
“How could he know about you?” Troy asked. “You didn’t even know about you.”
“I wonder,” my mom said, “if he didn’t know about you, specifically, but he was able to sniff out that Jess was close to a kitsune.”
“How would he be able to ‘sniff that out,’ mom?” I pushed.
“He could be Yokai, himself.” She answered with a shrug.
There it was. It was said aloud, now. I could no longer ignore the possibility and assume that our bad guy was an ordinary human psycho. I dropped my head into my hands and groaned.
“It makes sense,” Troy said.
“I know,” I grumbled. “But, why? What could this maybe-a-Yokai want with these girls and why does it matter that Jess’s roommate smells like a fox?” I was whining now, but I didn’t care. It was well after 2 o’clock in the morning and I couldn’t remember the last time I slept. Actually slept, without traveling to I don’t even know where so I could visit a cave full of kidnapped women.
“There are a variety of reasons that a yokai could be taking young women and holding them captive, Bris. It depends on what type of Yokai we are dealing with, although none of them are good.” My mother sighed as he shoulders slumped.
“Yeah, I figured that part,” I muttered.
“I think we should call it a night, ladies.” Troy said and winked at me. “Unlike the eternally beautiful women in the room, I need my rest to keep up these good looks.”