with an increasingly nervous ChibiX.
“Where are the people that sell costumes?” Chibi whimpered.
“There’s probably at least a dozen here, don’t worry.” Pixii couldn’t see over the heads of the people around them. She bounced up, was surprised to see a second samurai statue ahead of them just beyond a dealer selling Goth Lolita outfits. Pain lanced through her when she landed.
“Note to self,” she whimpered, “don’t do that again.”
“You okay?” Chibi asked.
“Yeah, there’s a cosplay dealer by the statue.” Pixii pointed the direction.
“What statue?” Chibi bounced too, attracting lots of attention as she forgot to keep the book in place.
“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.” Inkling used her own body to shield her from the stares at the girl’s groin.
“The statue just like . . . ” The one in the far corner was gone. “Oh, donkey balls!”
Pixii really wished weird spooky shit would stick to places like abandoned houses and graveyards. She could possibly avoid it if it didn’t keep showing up at places like shopping malls and convention centers. It was her experience, though, that the things that showed up in very public areas were harmless. Usually.
She wasn’t sure what she would do if it were dangerous. Whack it in the shins with Dork Buster? If she was going to pick a fight with a twenty-foot-tall statue, she wanted something more than a foam sword. Most of her life she’d studied everything she could find on the occult, from ninjutsu mediation rituals to college classes on world religions. Over and over again, she was told: it is believed. Nowhere could she find: it has been proven. Legends. Lore. Folktales. Whispers in the dark around campfires.
She wanted an occult equivalent of an assault rifle, not “throw salt and pray.”
“Oh!” Chibi squeaked, making Pixii jump. “Clothes!”
The girls headed toward the statue, oblivious to it.
Pixii trailed behind them, trying to keep her one good eye on both the girls and the statue. She got the distinct impression that the giant stone samurai was tracking them through the crowd but it could be her natural paranoia kicking in.
Chibi made squeaky noises as the girls flipped through the various outfits. “No. No. No. Oh, Inkling!” Inkling held up pink three-layer lace bloomers that were a perfect match to Chibi’s hair. “That’s perfect!”
Chibi found the price tag and read the amount. “Oh! I know I don’t have the much cash.” She started digging in a small purse that looked like a white rabbit. “I’ll have to use my—oh, where is it? Where’s my credit card?” She gave a long distressed whimper. “Oh, no, no, no! Don’t tell me I left it on my desk after I ordered the doujinshi on Thursday!”
“It’s okay.” Inking clicked her ballpoint nervously. “If everyone chips in three dollars, we can cover it. Team Banzai Go! Right?”
“Oh, Inkling! If you give me three dollars, you won’t be able to get anything for yourself.”
“You picked me up and Lyra is letting me crash in the hotel room. Being here with friends is all I really need. That’s the whole thing with Team Banzai: we take care of each other.”
Pixii swallowed, filled with sudden envy. She missed the gentleness of female friendship. “Here.” She dug out her wallet and found a twenty and a five. “I’ll cover it. You can pay me back later.”
It earned her a squeal and an enthusiastic hug from Chibi.
In the back of the booth, the dealer had created a makeshift changing room out of panels of yukata fabric. Chibi disappeared into it to pull on the bloomers without giving the nearby boys a free show.
Movement warned Pixii that someone was on her left. She spun around, bringing up Dork Buster. “Back off!”
A surprisingly tall Japanese man stood in front of her, dressed in an elegant, dark kimono. His white hair and the lines on his face suggested he was old, but there was no hint of weakness in his powerful build. He looked down at her with surprise.
She started to relax when she realized that she couldn’t have seen movement out of her blind eye. She took at step back, tightening her hold on Dork Buster. The massive statue was gone. From his geta sandals to topknot hairstyle, the man looked very much like a samurai. Off-balance, she stammered out, “What—what do you want?”
“I need a shrine maiden.” He had a low, rumbling voice.
None of the weird things that Pixii encountered had ever spoke to her before. They screamed and whispered and muttered, but never to her. They were