Hexed

is growing greedy like one, too. People have been disappearing more and more as time goes by. Every year she marks a new door. This year she marked ours.”
    I’d guessed as much.
    “I said I should go.” August’s grandmother drew herself upright. “I’m old. I’ve lived long enough.”
    “We argued about it,” August’s mother said. “While we argued, August decided that nobody should go. He went to meet Hiromi himself.” Her voice broke and she closed her eyes.
    August had died for them. For his family. The first son of the new generation, the heir to the family. They had lost their future and they were crushed.
    Because August had disobeyed and fought, Hiromi had toyed with him. She must’ve infected him somehow, and he brought her magic with him to the shapeshifter office. Jim was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now she wanted him. Well, she couldn’t have him. He was mine.
    Mr. Komatsu rose and put his arms around his sister. “We don’t know what happened between Hiromi and my nephew. We found August’s body on our doorstep. He was drained. His corpse, it was devoid of all liquid. We buried him. The mark has disappeared from our door. We cannot help you. Now leave us in peace so we can grieve.”
    I rose and walked out, leaving the shards of a broken family behind me. I felt sick, but I finally knew what my enemy was.
     
    I STOOD NEXT to my mother by the kitchen window. Through it, I could see the garden and Jim by the tree. It had taken eight hours for Keong Emas to mature and every hour had added years to Jim’s face. His beautiful skin looked dull, as if rubbed with ash. Puffy circles clutched at his eyes. He looked exhausted, drained, like a man who had spent a decade working in some hellish mine. Only the eyes remained the same: sharp, dangerous eyes, backlit from within by a lethal green glow. He had the will to live, but no strength to keep going.
    He was dying.
    Poor Jim. My poor, poor Jim.
    My mother pursed her lips. “It’s not too late to let him go.”
    “It is.”
    “Your magic will not work on her. She is an insect demon.”
    Arachnid, actually. “I have a plan, Mother.”
    My mother turned to me slowly. Her lip trembled.
    Oh my gods.
    She hugged me, clenching me to her. “My brave baby, you’re the only one I have. The only one. My precious one, my sweet daughter. You’re my everything. I’m begging you, please, please, let him go.”
    I smelled tears and I knew she was crying, and then I cried, too. “I can’t, Mother. I love him so much. I just can’t.”
    She held on to me so tight, she must’ve been afraid I’d disappear into thin air. We stood holding each other for a long minute, and then she let me go. “All right. I will help you then.”
    She picked up the glass jar. Inside it, a single fat pupa hung off the glass wall.
    My mother sniffed back her tears. “We go now.”
    We went out into the garden, my mother leading the way, and me following, carrying my calligraphy kit and old keris in my hand. The dagger curved in a wavy pattern from the asymmetrical base to the razor-sharp point, and the dozen metals that formed the blade shimmered as if the weapon was forged out of silvery running water.
    Up close, Jim looked even worse. My family had kept him awake, but it had sapped all of his strength. Only the shell of a man was left.
    Jim saw the knife. His lips moved. The words came out slowly. “If you needed a good knife, I’d let you borrow one of mine. You can’t even cut straight with that thing.”
    I almost cried again.
    My mother looked at me. Last chance to change my mind.
    I nodded.
    She sighed, opened the jar, and touched the tip of the pupa with her finger. Magic sparked through the tiny cocoon. It cracked and fell apart, breaking into dust. A radiant moth spread its wings in the pupa’s place. Magic washed over me, warm beautiful magic, so potent and strong, it made my heart skip a beat. I held my breath.
    Golden and glorious, glowing with a soft light, Keong Emas crawled to the lip of the jar. It fluttered its wings, sending tiny sparks of magic into the air, and took to the air, raining golden dust and minuscule bits of magic. It hovered above Jim, circled above him once, twice, fluttered through the garden, and flew away, far into the trees.
    The entire garden lay bathed in a golden glow, tiny sparks of magic gleaming on plant leaves like precious jewels. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
    Mother gasped. I spun to Jim.