Manhattan (W Hotel), New York

  I slept like shit.

  The kind of sleep where you’re half-awake, subconsciously aware of everything that’s happening around you. At the same time, your consciousness is split between delving deeper into REM sleep cycle or getting up.

  Maybe it has to do with the body’s inability to choose; an indecision brought about pushing your body too far but it wasn’t exactly enough to deal with all the dangers which caused the fight or flight response in the first place.

  Or better put, I was tired as shit.

  My eyes were closed, having just experienced a dream where something kept saying my name. Considering the last twenty four hours, it could have been any number of things. The spectrum between Fox-sister, ancient persian vampire-demon, and burnt ghosts was wide enough to entertain me through multiple nightmare-induced REM cycles.

  And the last one.

  The Cold Sickness. Az–

  I shuddered and felt my neck rub against soft pillows, slick with sticky cold sweat.

  “–a Debt.” It was Abigail.

  “You do not know what you ask for, Girl.” Wol replied.

  “That’s neither yes nor no, Old One.”

  “What you ask for is not equivalent in price.” Wol countered, sounding tired of a long reigning back and forth that had been happening long before I started listening in. “Besides, circumstances may change in the next few days in which case what you ask for would be moot point.”

  “I’ve never seen Paris fail.” Unlike Wol, Abigail had excitement in her voice. “Jain Shin Hallow was supposed to be a Nucai yesternight. Like me.”

  “Paris will not forget. Though that’s a tale for another time.” Wol sighed, “Again, are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then in respect to your ancestor’s sacrifice, I accept your offer. With that, our debt is cleared.”

  “Thank you, Old One.” Abigail said wistfully.

  I opened my eyes and found Hwari only inches from my face.

  “Gahk!” I greeted.

  ‘You awake.’

  The song was back in Hwari’s voice. My chest turned in on itself with both guilt and relief. I couldn’t get that image out of my head. The shadowy koi encased in a shell of ice, her voice empty of music and replaced with a monotonous droning.

  She had been used as a mouthpiece.

  Every emotion that had been pent up due to the pressure of having to act came back at once. Broken shards of grief and shame punctured through the joy I was supposed to feel at having survived. Instead, all I was left with was how unprepared I’d been and how I’d nearly ruined everything as a result.

  The dark thoughts compounded on themselves with recollections of Wol being kicked by the practitioner and Hwari being burnt.

  ‘Young Caller?’ Hwari asked, her body bobbing slightly to the side.

  “Are you ok?” I croaked. My throat felt dry.

  ‘Yes.’

  “The fire,” Closing my eyes, I tried not to remember too much. No, maybe I should remember too much. “A-and the ice. You’re all right?”

  Hwari didn’t quite laugh, but bells chimed melodically in the distance whenever she spoke in my head. ‘No, Practitioner. I cannot be hurt, though I can be weakened.”

  She didn’t hurt; there were no scars nor visible wounds on her body.

  “So you’re not in pain?”

  ‘I am not.’

  “Oh thank god.” The guilt lessened somewhat.

  “You’re awake.” Wol slunk into the room through the crack in between the doors.

  I took a glance at the room. Minimally furnished with neutral undertones in the color scheme of choice, a TV larger than necessary smack dab in the center of the room.

  “Am I in a hotel?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes.” Wol answered.

  “In Manhattan?”

  “I believe that is what this city is called.” Wol jumped up on the bed, his body making no sounds. “The girl asked me to inform you that the expenses have been covered for.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “That’s wild.” I muttered in disbelief.

  Hotel rooms in the city cost at least five hundred bucks a night, probably more if you didn’t book ahead. This wasn’t just any hotel room either. Through the crack in the door, I spotted a living room with a couch and coffee table. This was a suite.

  “We should talk.” Wol nestled himself in between my calves.

  “Can I get water first?” I asked hopefully.

  He didn’t answer, black fur swallowing golden orbs as he closed his eyes.

  I walked over to the mini-fridge and found it stacked with bottled water, overnight oats, and a variety of fruits. There was also a big bowl of chocolate bars on top of the drawer. I proceeded to pillage the food, scarfing down everything as quick as I could.

  Wol opened one eye and clicked his tongue disapproval as I spilled oats over my bare chest.

  Hell, when did Abigail take my shirt off?

  “He’s gone simple.” He added a little dramatic flair to the tone.

  I scowled between bites of cantaloupe and melon. God, rich people's fruit was so good. “I have not gone simple.”

  The three of us went about doing our own things. Hwari floated over to the window and sunk into the shadow, leaving the top half of her body exposed. She hummed a little tune, watching the people outside. Wol took to grooming and I finished the rest of my food.

  “Ok, that’s enough now.” Wol stood, stretched, and padded over next to me. “We must discuss what happened yesterday.”

  Hwari floated over.

  “I’m not even sure I know what happened.”

  “Yes, I imagine you have more questions than answers.” Wol admitted. “Tell me what you remember.”

  So I explained in concise organized facts. How I wanted to buy us time with ghost summoning –albeit a more powerful spirit that could buy us more than a few seconds. That I fed it with emotions as he taught me, because ghosts react to feelings close to what they felt before they died.

  I explained the vision too, of the people who lived near the cold mountain. How I instinctively reached out and it had answered back –as well as the deal.

  Wol listened all the way through without interrupting.

  “How many times?”

  “Five. Throughout my lifetime.”

  Wol shook his head. “And you have said it once already.”

  “And uh, that’s about it.” I finished, “I saw Hwari. She was covered in ice. And the circle she drew, it had changed somehow. Did I…” I trailed off.

  ‘Yes. No. Perhaps.’ Hwari sang.

  Wol’s reply was more succinct. “The answer is not so simple. Yes, you were a part of it. I’m assuming you're asking if you are responsible for it?”

  “Yeah.” I said sheepishly.

  “Do you know how to draw an advanced circle that can contact the different layers of the hells?”

  “...No.”

  “Then you are not.”

  I felt a familiar frustration well up in my chest. “Then what exactly happened?”

  Wol fixed his eyes on me. Then in very precise words, “I do not know.”

  I chewed on that.

  “Do you have a theory?” I finally asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you willing to share them?” I scowled again.

  The black feline looked away. “I am. But I do not know if I should.”

  ‘He should know, Wol.’ Hwari chimed in.

  Wol rested his small head on those tiny paws. “There are a number of possibilities of how last night transpired. It could have been your Hallow blood, calling upon old debts and favors of which there are memories of, but no one remembers but the most ancient of beings. It would make the most logical sense, as karmic momentum dictates that history repeats itself.”

  “Elaborate on that last part.”

  “The Hallows were –are– Diabolists. They made deals, pacts, bargains; they called in debts, favors, and obligations. Your family’s karma has been tied in with devils on a fundamental level.” Wol explained, “By being of Hallow, it’s more likely for you to encounter the infernal than any other practitioner. The chance is always there for everyone, but chance becomes certainty when it comes to you.”

  “Like physics.” I muttered, trying to understand. “Path of least resistance. How does that work with the circle?”

  “Miru and William.” He said simply.

  I blinked. “Huh?”

  “Your mother could have foreseen that you’d be put into a situation where you’d call on things less than favorable and succeed in making contact.” Wol shrugged. I didn’t know cats could shrug. “I believe she has stored the ritual-circle in Hwari, with William’s help of course. An individual bargain between the two.”

  “What?! Is that safe? Isn’t that animal abuse?” Forget about Society, my mom might have had a greater enemy: PETA.

  Hwari swam by me, ‘I feel fine, Practitioner.’

  “It’s… I must admit, I do not know.” Wol admitted. “Regardless, that’s the only explanation for how Hwari’s circle was transmuted into the Cold Sickness’ circle.”

  “Hmm. You know what it sounds like?” I looked back and forth at Wol and Hwari, “It sounds like my mom knew I might end up in fucked-up situations like this, and basically deposited a ritual circle into Hwari’s body for me to use to help me summon a freaking demon.”

  “It’s a theory.” Wol insisted.

  “Well, it sure as hell sounds exactly like what happened last night.” I thought for a bit, then frowned. “Wait a second. More powerful the demon or devil, the more complicated the circle. Generally, it’s not a one-size-fits-all kind of situation.”

  Wol narrowed his eyes. “It is not. Higher ranking ones all have their own.”

  “Then how the hell did my mom know which circle to put in?”

  “There is a distinct possibility that your mother and father have stored multiple circles in Hwari for such contingencies. Possibly me as well.”

  “Fucking hell.” I swore. “You’re telling me Hwari’s a weapon?”

  “No, Jain Shin Hallow.” Wol said gravely, “You are the weapon.”