50. The Backup Plan

{Uriel}

When Uriel awoke the next day, he was covered in sweat and breathing as if he had been forced to run a marathon. Not wanting to arouse Naya's concern, he silently slipped out of bed and chose a bathroom that was several rooms down from his.

The djinni confronted himself in the mirror and found that his hands were shaking. Like the nightmare that had haunted his slumber, he completely ignored the unsettling sensation and proceeded about his morning routine. Paying no heed to the growing threat of his agitated fire, Uriel brushed his teeth, took a shower, and got dressed.

Thirty minutes later, he was ready to go downstairs and finally face what the day had in store for him – or so he thought.

Uriel paused to vomit in the toilet. Mixed in with last night's partially digested dining experience were three nugget-sized embers that burned in spite of the water encasing them.

The sight momentarily sobered Uriel, forcing him to close his eyes. He searched internally to speak with the other conscience sharing this form.

"What do you want?"

<Your little fairy tale is about to be over. You know that once we enter the Sands, we are not coming out.>

"We," Uriel said through clenched teeth, "are going there to seek counsel from the marida. They may be deep in the desert, but they will give their knowledge freely."

<That's if we even reach their city in one piece. Have you forgotten about our cannibal cousins the ghoul or those vampiric palis? Not to mention the tricksters that will surely compromise our ability to navigate. It's been centuries since you had to tell the difference between a true oasis and a mirage conjured by a jann.>

Uriel struck the bathroom mirror. "I know that! Don't you think I haven't thought these things through already? It's all I ever think about!" He opened his eyes and glared back at his broken reflection.

After a moment of flexing his fingers in an attempt to cure the numbness brought on by momentary rage, Uriel ground out, "I've come too far in this process. I'll be damned if it gets eroded by meddlesome desert djinn. And . . . I have to think about Naomi."

The fire chuckled.

<Ah yes. The source of your shortcomings in all of this. You truly believe that in the face of a malevolent shaitan, your little blue flame will keep us from unleashing hell? No. That child has no idea the depths we are willing to go to secure victory in a fight. Should another djinni challenge us or threaten her . . .>

"Shut up," Uriel said. He was tired of having the same old argument. Feebly, he replied, "I'm not the same as I was before. I've tasted human existence. I care deeply for Naya. I don't want to go back to my life before – alone in the desert with you. That is the last thing I want. Besides, I have Zayn's pentagram on the back of my neck. It will help me monitor the use of excessive force."

The silence told Uriel that whether his fire agreed with him or not, he was done with the conversation and had returned to his dormant phase. So like a fire – to flare up, burn until it tired itself out, and then retreat until someone else came around to set life to it again.

Uriel exhaled and focused on using a little magic to repair the bathroom mirror.

This is why I prefer humans to djinn.

***

On his way back to his room, Uriel contemplated the different breakfast options that he could prepare for Naya as soon as she woke up. His optimistic mood soured when he saw Ritsu guarding the door of his chambers.

This monkey prying into his affairs with Naya was the last thing he needed.

"We need to talk," Ritsu said once Uriel reached the door.

The djinni extended his foot to move the monkey aside. "Excuse me. Naya and I have a long day ahead of us. She needs a proper breakfast."

Ritsu evaded Uriel's foot and latched onto the knob of the door.

"Zayn's orders. Now come with me."

Uriel narrowed his eyes at the demon. He tasted ash in his mouth as he considered whether awakening his fire to intimidate Ritsu was worth it. Before he could make a decision, the monkey stalked off, expecting Uriel to follow.

They reached Zayn's study in silence. The magus was at his desk, typing on his laptop. Judging by the way his eyes followed the text on the screen, Uriel assumed that he was researching more on the collector.

"Good morning, you two," the magus greeted without looking up. "Before Naya wakes up, we need to talk about a few things. Come and have a look at this."

Zayn leaned back and adjusted his glasses while Uriel and Ristu made their way to the other side of his desk.

Gesturing to the screen, Zayn explained, "Since you and Naya arrived, I've been digging through the known sorcerer alias database. Neither the name Janus Bergman nor any other variation could be found. When I tried asking along the grapevine, the doors of even my friendliest associates were practically shut in my face. Whoever this man is, magi do not speak of him. And as far as the records go, he doesn't exist."

Uriel worked his jaw in agitation. "He has to be registered somewhere. Not only does he have an ifrit, but he's also got an alchemist working for him. When the two of us were fighting, he casually mentioned that he collects powerful djinn and feeds them to his ifrit. Sorcerers these days are lucky if they can get one strong djinni under control, let alone a collection of them."

Zayn sipped his tea and nodded. "I have considered this. The only way a magus of his caliber could fly under the radar is if there was someone erasing his tracks after every move he makes."

"It has to be the alchemist," Uriel said. "He seemed pretty adept at breaking through my barriers, bailing his boss out of trouble and destroying any signs of magical evidence."

Zayn reached and pressed a finger against the djinni's clenched fist. "Hold your fire, Uriel. I have some good news." Then he leaned towards the screen and pulled up a window. It appeared to be a newspaper article with a single photograph attached.

"So after having no luck through the magical circuit, I began looking up the name Janus Bergman in modern historical records. And this is what came up. It's an article from Germany in the 1940's."

Zayn zoomed in on the picture.

"According to this article, Janus Bergman was found in the debris of a burned down mansion. The story made headlines because of the minimal burns on his body despite him being trapped under several wooden beams. It would appear that he barely had any space to breathe, let alone move. He was only ten years old. That would make Janus about eighty-two today, but I'm sure that he has relied on the power of his ifrit to mask his true age."

Ritsu squinted at the old photo of the little boy.

"He was just a child. What human that young could tame a whole ifrit?"

Zayn clicked out of the window and closed down his laptop. "I'm assuming that the ifrit that bonded to him was out of options. It's not unheard of. Djinn will use children as hosts if they are desperate enough and the child is the right fit. My guess is that Janus already had an affinity for sorcery and his ifrit was the one who opened his eyes to it." Zayn tapped his finger against the laptop thoughtfully before adding, "For us, this is not good. It means that Janus and his djinni are stable in their connection. The ifrit would be able to provide him with exponential amounts of magic that he could not otherwise obtain on his own."

Uriel filed away this information for when he would need it in battle. Then he asked, "Any luck on locating him yet?"

Zayn exhaled. "Not yet. I haven't had to track someone down like this in years. I'm a little rusty at it. I'm going to have to purchase the proper instruments to get the results I'm looking for. And that takes time. But Uriel, I don't want you to worry about me. You and Naya should be safe in the desert. Please focus on finding a generous marid who is willing to impart some knowledge on the weaknesses of sorcerers like Bergman."

"Right," Uriel said. He was happy to temporarily forget about all of this information on the collector. All he wanted was to make Naya breakfast, but so far his fire, Ritsu, and Zayn had kept him from doing so. The djinni removed himself from Zayn's desk and headed for the door.

"Hold on," Ritsu squeaked. "Not so fast."

Uriel shot the monkey a reproachful glare. His patience with him was waning thin.

"Don't leave just yet, Uriel," Zayn said calmly from his desk. "There is something else we need to discuss before boarding for Oman today."

Uriel turned around, giving Zayn his full attention.

Zayn's gaze alternated between Uriel and Ritsu. "Now I'm not going to pry into your personal progress with your suit of fire. From what I can tell, the contract you made with Naya has significantly decreased your reliance on magic both physically and emotionally."

Uriel inclined his head. "Thank you, Kahl."

Zayn paused to sip his tea. Afterwards, he added, "With that being said, Ritsu has suggested a backup plan in case you are held in a situation in which you have no option but to completely submit to your fire. He and I agreed on a spell that will trigger an unbinding from his current form should you release an abundant amount of energy at a rapid rate. The spell will allow Ritsu to feed off of your release in order to establish his original shinigami form. It will not drain you of any vitality whatsoever. The spell will only occur if there is leftover energy for it to latch onto."

Uriel struggled to contain his anger. "You cannot be serious. What is Naya going to need a shinigami for? I would never let myself get that out of control. Besides, she has enough training to protect herself if my ability to do so was ever compromised. You shouldn't have let this pathetic demon talk you into this."

Ritsu spoke up. "It's for her own safety. I can help guard her a lot easier in my true form than I can like this."

Uriel snickered, "Please, demon. Death lord? Your kind has a seemingly formidable title, but it amounts to nothing. You have not the means to cause death nor prevent it. You simply gorge on it."

Ritsu bristled. "You think you know so much about what I am. You're just an arrogant ass."

Dark amusement bled into Uriel's features. "Don't make me laugh."

"Like I said," Ritsu snarled, "you know nothing! All I'm trying to do is help Naya."

"Uriel, please," Zayn interrupted. "Ritsu really is putting Naya before himself. He wants the best for her, just like you and I."

This time Uriel really did laugh. "Kahl, haven't you ever wondered why this demon is going through so much trouble for Naya?" The djinni bent his body over the monkey. "Admit it, you're in love with her. And it's sick."

Ritsu looked down at his furry chest. He smoothed it down as he often did when confronted.

"It's only sick because of this form you have damned me to."

Uriel clucked his tongue, encouraging some smoke to drift out. "Monkey or not, Naya would never let you protect her the way you want to."

Ritsu forced himself to meet the djinni's red-tinted irises. The monkey refused to blink away the tears caused by the smoke wafting into his eyes. Instead, he matched Uriel's intimidating smirk with a humorless smile that showed off his fangs and stretched the muscles in his face to disturbing degrees.

"There are lots of different ways to protect someone, djinni," he spoke in a voice that neither of them recognized. "Did you protect Naya when you went to court the girl from your culinary class? No. You hurt her. But I was there."

The threatening red color drained from Uriel's eyes.

Jutting his chin, Ritsu continued. "And do you remember that time with the ifrit? You were too preoccupied with his master, but I was the one who helped Naya fight back that beast –"

The monkey's windpipe was cut off in Uriel's fast grip.

Zayn stood up. "That's enough. Uriel, let him go!"

Some curses and one dark threat later, Uriel finally released Ritsu. The demon collapsed on all fours, coughing and inhaling the life back into his lungs.

The door slammed. Uriel had left, leaving a faint cloud of smoke lingering in the room. Zayn rose to check on Ritsu. He helped him back onto the desk and asked, "Are you okay?"

Ritsu cleared his throat. "I'll be fine. There's no need to be alarmed. That's just how most of our pissing contests go."