Bureau of the Sky, Heaven:

Aurelia sat back, stunned. Above her seal floated an image of a demon army camped on the common lands of the Claymouth Barony. Right next door to Cassia Quarta’s reincarnation!

Even as she stared in open-mouthed disbelief, a rock macaque attacked a farmer who was walking next to his ox-drawn wagon. The farmer shouted and tried to punch the demon, while the yellow ox bellowed, tossed its head, and bolted. Into a dry ditch. With a crash, the wagon overturned and splintered, and green beans and carrots and summer squash went flying into the dirt.

A horde of duck demons arrived next, the local bandits. Quacking furiously, they chased off the rock macaque and hovered in front of the farmer. The connection was too crackly for Aurelia to make out their words, but they seemed to be checking whether he was injured.

He was not, but the way he waved his arms and pointed at his wagon indicated that his profits were. The ox was bellowing and flailing its legs, struggling to get back on its hooves, so the duck demons flew over to it, lined up along its back, and heaved. The ox staggered back upright, and the farmer ran his hands over its side. A relieved slump of his shoulders suggested that it was all right too.

Meanwhile, other ducks were waddling around, picking up green beans in their beaks and collecting them into a pile. The farmer folded his arms and glared. Without a wagon, how am I supposed to get them to market? he seemed to complain.

That was bad. Cautious inquiries with the Director of the Bureau of Human Lives, the Goddess of Life, and her Assistant Director, the God of the Hearth, had indicated that the people of Claymouth weren’t praying for help against the demon army yet. But if this were how it was acting, then it was only a matter of time.

“Show me Honeysuckle Croft,” Aurelia commanded her seal, feeding more power into it this time.

The image blurred and reformed into a view of Honeysuckle Croft. Little Taila – who was so tall now! She was growing so fast! – teetered on the edge of the vegetable patch, arguing with her mother in this life.

Mistress Jek’s furious voice crackled through the seal. “No! Absolutely not! I forbid it!”

“But I want to go seeee him! He saaaaid I could go seeee him! He said he was going to give me a riiiide!”

Jek Taila! snapped another voice. What did we say about speaking properly?

Miracle of miracles, Taila actually lowered her volume to appeal to a small oracle-shell turtle on the windowsill. “Mr. Turtle, Lord Maggy said he was going to give me a ride. I want my ride!”

A ride? On the back of that wild boar demon?

How had that wild boar demon gotten close enough to Taila to promise her anything? To talk to her at all? What in the name of the Jade Emperor on His Dragon Throne were these people playing at?!

She knew she should never have trusted That Demon. She’d thought – she’d hoped – that a former fox would be clever enough to see that it was in her own best interest to uphold her oath and keep Jek Taila alive – but no. Obviously no. Obviously That Demon was just so evil that she thought it would be funnier to summon a demon horde to the very doorstep of the child she was supposed to keep alive so one of those demons could then tempt the child into getting eaten.

This farce had gone on long enough. Aurelia would uphold her end of the oath and wrangle as much positive karma out of the Accountants as was fair for That Demon’s “achievements” – she gritted her teeth – but this had to end now. Even with that catfish demon lurking in the river, Cassia Quarta was better off without That Demon in her life. She always had been.

Angrily, Aurelia ground her inkstick, mixed an unnecessarily large amount of ink, picked up her brush, and scrawled on a sheet of paper: Recall her now.

Then she summoned one of her personal star child runners. “Take this to Clerk Flicker at the Bureau of Reincarnation at once.”

----------------------------------------

Down in the Claymouth Barony:

Four days until Den had to leave for the Meeting of the Dragon Host. Only four days left, and we still hadn’t heard back from Yulus!

The very day Den and Floridiana returned, I’d dispatched him to the Black Sand Creek Water Court to negotiate for the use of their guards. According to Den, he’d laid out a persuasive case for how we had a good chance against Lord Silurus this time, given the massive array of forces we’d already assembled.

“I told them it’ll be different from in the past,” he’d reported. “It’s not gonna be one lone hero fighting him at a time. We’ll be coordinated. They said they need to discuss it.”

Which, unfortunately, everyone agreed was reasonable. We let them discuss it.

Except, three days later, they were still discussing it. Or, more likely, Nagi had already vetoed it and Yulus was just procrastinating on summoning Den to deliver the bad news.

“We could go ahead and launch an attack without him,” Stripey spoke up. He was perched on the back of his chair in the castle’s Great Hall, which we had commandeered for daily strategy meetings now. “He hasn’t said we can’t carry out a military operation in his river.”

The baron, who’d been on the receiving end of the duck demon’s very precise logic many times, made a strangled noise. I ignored him.

What Stripey said was true, but we’d been counting on using the Black Sand Creek guards in the first stage of the assault. I turned to our military commanders.

What do you think? Can we do it without them?

“Child’s play,” snorted Captain Rock from where he was overflowing a chair.

That was hardly a convincing argument, but Lord Magnissimus, who was sitting on the floor next to the table, seconded him. “Iiiit will be eeeeasy.”

Sir Gil the Brave, the baron’s human knight, shifted uncomfortably in his own chair on the wild boar demon’s other side. “That may be so…but I wouldn’t like our chances, Emissary.”

Captain Rock snorted again.

Lord Magnissimus stamped a front hoof, making the table and chairs (and the most of the taskforce) quake. “Iiiit will be eeeeasy as long as you don’t caaaare if anything else in the riiiiver survives.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“What do you mean?” Floridiana demanded, beating me to it.

“I can freeeeze the riiiiver.”

Silence. Then –

Why didn’t you say so earlier?!

“You’re telling us that now?” yelled Floridiana.

“But you’re not a dragon!” protested Den.

The wild boar fixed him with his liquid brown eyes. “Not oooonly dragons can control waaaater, dragonet.”

Chastened, the little dragon king fell quiet.

Into that awkward pause came a knock on the door to the Great Hall. The baron looked at me, and at my nod, Anasius glided over to open it. One of the palace servants passed him a rolled-up sheet of parchment, which he brought to Den. “It’s from King Yulus, Your Majesty.”

On the outside were the words, “Illustrissimo principi consanguineo nostro carissimo regi Stagni Traparum,” or “To the most illustrious ruler our dearest brother the King of Caltrop Pond.” That might be a good reading exercise for Taila, I thought automatically before remembering that Floridiana was back and in charge of the children’s education now. It wasn’t my responsibility to find appropriate reading material anymore.

Den seemed to take forever to undo the cord that tied up the letter. Most of the other literate people at the table politely averted their eyes from the writing, but I walked straight up to the letter, and Lord Magnissimus simply looked over and down at it.

The characters were written in elegant calligraphy, in the old, formal style that I had been used to, but which seemed oddly stilted now. Yulus, or his scribe, more likely, informed his “dearest brother” that after careful consideration, he had concluded that it was to our mutual benefit for the Black Sand Creek Water Court to support the expedition against the infamous demon, Lord Silurus, in order to rid the river of his evil ways et cetera et cetera.

There was no mention of military assistance.

“Support, huh?” muttered Den. “That sounds like a polite way of saying he’s not lending us his guards.”

I was also unimpressed by the stiffness of Yulus’ spine. Or lack thereof.

Indeed. It is fortunate that Lord Magnissimus is confident that he can handle the catfish demon in the water.

Lord Magnissimus snorted again, this time in contempt. “That draaaagon is hedging hiiiis bets.”

“What’d he say? What’d he say?” Captain Rock was craning his neck, squinting at the characters in the dim light from the oil lamps.

Den laid the parchment in the center of the table so everyone (who was literate) could read it. The letter opened with the salutation:

Yulus, Imperatoris Lapidaris Nephritici gratia Aestuarii Harenae Atrarum rex. Illustrissime princeps, consanguine noster carissime.

The baron’s and Anasius’ eyes progressed along the lines painfully slowly, while Floridiana frowned and seemed to be mentally rearranging the words into a more familiar order. Hmm, maybe I would need to take over teaching the students to read, or at least take over the classes where they learned to read older documents.

“Why’s it say King Yulus’ name and title first? Isn’t that kind of weird?” asked Captain Rock. Floridiana glanced up with a carefully neutral expression that suggested she had the same question.

Den shrugged. “It’s just the formula. ‘Yulus, by the grace of the Jade Emperor, King of Black Sand Creek.’ If I were writing a letter to another ruler, I’d use the same format.”

“Oh,” said Captain Rock, who as a military commander obviously didn’t need to write any letters to any rulers.

While they wrestled with formal Serican, Den summarized its contents for the others. Stripey looked over at Lord Magnissimus. “You said you could freeze the river? Looks like we’ll need you to do that.”

“Yeeees. Iiiit will kill everything in the waaaater, so I will haaaave a feeeeast afterwards.”

“Honored Lord Magnissimus, I can’t afford to have the Green Frog or Sir Black Pine come here demanding redress,” protested the baron. He must have been recalling previous attacks on Lord Silurus that poisoned the river, leading to starvation among the fisherfolk.

The boar considered it at length. “I caaaan allow them to shaaaare in the feast,” he granted at last.

Mistress Jek spoke up all of a sudden. “King Yulus said he would ‘support’ us, right? What does ‘support’ mean?”

She looked around the table, but everyone shrugged. “Support” was such a conveniently ambiguous term.

He doesn’t want to commit to fighting Lord Silurus directly, I translated. So we can probably convince him to do anything short of that.

“Well.” She hesitated, an illiterate peasant woman (albeit one who claimed imperial blood) among human and spirit nobility. “Well, then, if we’re worried about killing things when the water freezes, can we ask King Yulus to, um, move them?”

That was a brilliant idea.

“Yes!” Anasius burst out before he clapped a hand over his mouth and bowed in apology.

“Yes,” seconded the baron, looking stunned that his least favorite peasant had come up with an idea that would save him a border war.

“His guards should be able to handle that much,” sniffed Floridiana.

Den, please make those arrangements with Yulus, I ordered.

Den nodded in a businesslike way and rolled the letter back up. Was he planning to keep it for his archives – or scrape off the ink and reuse it? I wondered. Maybe I should tell him to donate it to the taskforce. Goodness knew we were always running out of parchment.

All right, everyone, we have four days to carry out this attack.

Four was an unlucky number, and Yulus’ refusal to commit his forces to the attack was proof of that.

Lord Magnissimus, Captain Rock, and Sir Gil, come up with a battleplan by tomor–

The air above the table flared gold. Motes whizzed around before they clumped together to form Flicker. The clerk’s robes were askew, and his eyes wide and panicky. He tried to speak, failed, and hyperventilated.

He was not making a good impression on the taskforce, especially the demons from the Wilds who weren’t inclined to respect Heavenly authority in the first place.

To buy him time to compose himself, I intoned, Messenger from Heaven, we are honored by your arrival. What divine tidings do you bear this day?

“Pi– Emissary! I need to talk to you in private. Now!”

Flicker scanned the Great Hall for exits to side rooms, but that was unacceptable. I looked at the others. Clear the room. We must confer in private.

They shuffled out of the Great Hall without argument, even Stripey. The duck seemed to have accepted that I needed to play a certain role in order to hold the coalition together, and that that role required a certain amount of arrogance that he wouldn’t tolerate under any other circumstances.

Flicker barely waited for the heavy wooden doors to thud shut behind Mistress Jek before he wrung his hands and cried, “She’s recalling you! She’s recalling you right now!”

I froze.

Had the Goddess of Life reneged on her promise? Was I going to go back to reincarnating without my mind? I’d die first.

No, I’d die anyway. Over and over and over, because as Assistant Director of Reincarnation, Cassius would never allow me to reincarnate as anything that could earn positive karma passively, or anywhere that could speed up my awakening.

Doomed. I was doomed.

But that didn’t mean I was going down without a fight. I had earned my right to keep my mind. I had earned my right to this life.

On what grounds is she recalling me?

“The demon army of course! What do you think? Piri, what possessed you to bring a demon army to the Claymouth Barony?!”

It wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with it.

It was even true. Recruiting Lord Magnissimus and Captain Rock and his rock macaque demon soldiers had been entirely Den and Floridiana’s judgment call, even if I happened to profit from it. Not even Lady Fate could blame me for this one. (Although she’d find a way regardless.)

Flicker’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s a demon army here that marched all the way across Serica from the Jade Mountain Wilds – your old home! – and you’re saying that you had nothing to do with it?!”

Flicker, calm down. I really didn’t have anything to do with it. Get Aurelia – the Star of Reflected Brightness, I mean – to talk to her. Tell the Star that we’ve formed a military coalition that is on the verge of purging Lord Silurus. She’ll like that.

Flicker tangled both hands into his hair and clenched it. “You have no idea! You really have no idea! It’s the Star of Reflected Brightness who ordered your recall!”

What? Why?! We’re avenging her daughter!

“Because you brought a demon army to her daughter’s doorstep! Why do you think?”

I told you, that wasn’t me!

“Doesn’t matter! She wants you back now!”

It was like Lady Fate and Cassius’ empire all over again. A goddess gave me a task, I carried it out to the best of my ability, and then she turned on me.

It was so unfair. Everything I had done for Taila, all the time and effort that I – that all of us! – had put into this plan – and Aurelia betrayed me now? In the last four days? All I needed were four more days to execute my grand plan, and then Taila would be safe from Lord Silurus forever, Stripey and the other duck demons’ negative karma would be wiped out, and I would finally, finally reach Black Tier.

Just four days!

Four really was the unluckiest number.