All the Gates of Hell (33 page)

I can't let my anger go. Shiro, you taught me this
.

There was a harsh whisper at her left ear. Jin recognized Frank's voice. "Jin, what just happened?"

"Nothing," Jin said softly as the iron door opened. "Take me home."

"But -- "

"Take. Me. Home."

They stepped through the doorway of light and vanished into the void.

(())

Chapter 26

Jin woke from a troubled sleep and lay staring at the ceiling. She finally yawned and checked the clock. It was after 10:00AM, but she didn't get up immediately. There was no need to hurry.

The funeral wasn't until two.

She had halfway expected the Guan Yin That Was to show up in her dreams to rip her a new one, or Teacher to come pounding on the door demanding an explanation, but neither happened. Jin wondered if, perhaps, she had triggered the end of the world and no one noticed.

Would it matter if I had? There are many more hells than this one
.

Jin pulled back the drapes. The glare made her look away, but when her eyes adjusted she could see that the world was pretty much as she'd left it. The sun was shining -- intently, in fact -- and outside her window there were trees with birds singing in them, just like yesterday. Jin stumbled to her desk to check her email but there was nothing. Not even spam. On a whim she scrolled down looking for the emails she'd gotten from her mother over the last several weeks, but of course they weren't there.

Your mother's life was rearranged to explain her absence. Why did you think you were immune
?

Maybe, Jin thought, because she still remembered all those things that didn't happen, at least in this version of the world. Jin knew that, if Joyce had been freed as her mother was, the world would have rearranged itself for her as well. As things were, funeral arrangements had been made and Joyce's killer was now in jail and, thanks to Jin, he would remain there pending trial. The Board would be looking to replace Joyce, just like before. The only real difference was that now Jin's mother wasn't a candidate for the job, even if the board did happen to run out of other options. But at least no one was pretending the last several years of Joyce's life hadn't happened. Jin took some small comfort from that, so she didn't really know why.

Jin remained at her computer long enough to type out and print a letter to Frank and Ling, though she used their more formal -- and correct -- names Lung Nu and Shan Cai. She slipped this into an envelope before she called them.

"Yes, Jin?" Frank asked when they appeared. Jin handed them the envelope.

"What's this?" asked Ling.

"That is a set of very precise written instructions for how you are to proceed the next time I confront Shiro. Just so there will not be any confusion as to my intentions when and if I summon you. Read them carefully."

"Jin..." Frank began hesitantly, but Jin raised a hand.

"Frank, if whatever you're going to say is about yesterday, I've already said that I do not wish to discuss it, now or ever."

"Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted either of us to accompany you to your friend's funeral," Frank said.

Jin frowned. "You're assuming that my apparent betrayal of Shiro has turned love to hate. I only wish that were so, but I know better. And assuming Shiro is angry with me, do you really think he will attack me there?"

"If Shiro intends you physical harm now he'd attack you wherever he could. I simply think there are times when one does not wish to be alone," Frank said softly.

Jin nodded. "That was almost sweet. Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I won't be alone. I think Shiro will be there. That's why it was important to give you your instructions now."

"We will consider them very carefully," Ling said.

"You will do more than that. You will follow them to the letter...please. This is important. All right, you can go. Just be ready when I call you."

"Always," Ling said, and they disappeared.

Jin sighed. No matter how many times they did that, it still made her feel a bit like a white rabbit was going to rush by at any second, pull out his watch, and fuss about being late. Jin grinned. She had a sudden image of Teacher in his duster, sporting long white ears and a fluffy tail, checking his karmic timepiece. My, my. Everyone's late for judgment. This won't do at all.

Jin couldn't keep the smile going for very long, but she tried. She forced herself to eat a little soup when it was lunchtime, and soon after it was time to get dressed for Joyce's memorial service. Jin felt a moment of panic when she realized she had no idea if she currently owned a black outfit of any kind, but a quick sort through her closet came up with at least two outfits appropriately somber. Jin selected a demure knee length black dress and found a matching bag and shoes without having to dig too deeply.

Dammit, I should know these things
.

It wasn't the uncertainty about her wardrobe as such that was so annoying. It was more the fact that this was the second time her life had been rearranged without her permission, she was more than a little sick of it already, and the only way that she could see to stop it from happening again was to never, ever have any meaningful contact with another human being as long as she lived.

"Well," she said aloud, though there was no one there, "At least that way I wouldn't have to attend any more funerals."

Her Miata was in the garage but she didn't trust herself to drive it. She thought of having Ling or Frank transport her to the service, but in the end she'd just called a taxi.

Willowbrook Funeral Home was about five miles north of the subdivision where Jin lived now, past the point where Elysian turned into State Highway 501. There were several cars in the parking lot of the chapel when Jin arrived for the viewing, though the service itself wasn't scheduled to begin for another twenty minutes. Jin recognized some of the people there. There were one or two members of the board of the Legal Aid Office, plus several former clients of Joyce's who had come to pay their respects as well. Jin knew that Joyce had few living relatives in the area and was, apparently, on the outs with most of those, but Jin was surprised that no more of her family seemed to be present.

Jin took a deep breath and went in to where the casket rested on its platform. There were flowers. Jin realized she hadn't ordered any herself. She knew she had an excuse, but that didn't seem to matter just then; she should have remembered. She glanced at one nice wreath of yellow roses and was shocked to see her own name on it.

But I didn't...oh. Shiro
.

Or rather, Jonathan Mitsumo. He was standing at the back of the room; she hadn't even noticed him when she came in. He was looking at her, expressionless. Jin turned her back on him and went to see Joyce's body.

What did they do to you, Joyce
...?

It wasn't just the heavy makeup the undertakers had used to cover up what must have been massive bruising on her neck. It took Jin a moment or two to realize that they had also put Joyce in a wig. Joyce had always favored very short styles because they were no trouble to take care of. The wig made her look matronly, and Jin had to resist the urge to reach in and pull the silly thing off.

"There you are, missy."

A small black woman had walked up beside Jin and was peering down at Joyce's body, and Jin realized the woman had been speaking to Joyce, not her. Jin started to leave, but she wasn't even well into her turn before the woman's next words froze Jin in place.

"I was right, missy. Don't you lie there dead and try to tell me I wasn't right."

Jin saw the resemblance. The woman looked about seventy and she might have been as heavy as Joyce was at one time, but age seemed to have burned it away and left little but skin and bone and wrinkled behind. She looked down at Joyce Masters with hard, dry eyes.

"Excuse me," Jin asked. "Are you a relative?"

The woman nodded, but she didn't look away from the body. "You could say so. I'm her mother."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jin began, "I'm Jin Hannigan. Joyce didn't talk about her family a great deal."

"Luella Masters. How did you know my daughter, Miss Hannigan?"

"I worked with her. She was very dedicated."

The old woman sniffed. "Oh, yeah, and see where it got her at the end of her days. My Franklin worked himself to nothing to get her into that law school. She could have made it all back in no time. She had good offers. So what did she do? Threw her life away on one charity or another, not to mention that waste of a free law clinic."

Jin stiffened. "I wouldn't call that a waste."

"Call it what you want, Miss Hannigan. You don't know."

"No," Jin said, "I suppose not. I would like to ask you something, though it's none of my business."

"People always say that when they're gonna ask anyway. I'm listening."

"If you had a chance to speak to your daughter one more time, is this what you'd have told her?"

Just for an instant Jin thought she saw a softening in the old woman's features but it was no more than a hint, and soon gone. Luella Masters just shrugged. "And more besides, you just believe. She never listened no way. At least now she can't walk off when I talk to her. That's what I get to do now, rickety old bones and all. Good day, Miss Hannigan."

And I thought Joyce only had one devil on her shoulder.

Jin opened her Third Eye just a little as Luella Masters walked back out of the room and out the front door. She saw what perched on the old woman's shoulder. She was a little ashamed of herself for doing it, but not much.

If Joyce didn't listen enough I think you listen a little too much, Luella Masters. It's a pity you don't know who's doing the talking
.

Jin saw a movement at her right elbow. She turned and found Shiro standing beside her in his Jonathan form.

"I see you've just met Joyce's mother. Lovely woman."

Jin just shrugged. "Lots of people get distracted by things that don't matter. You should understand that."

He smiled. "Jin, you have no idea what I understand. I sent the flowers for you, by the way. Do you like them?"

"Yes," Jin said, and added because she felt she needed to, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. See? Not impossible to have a pleasant conversation with the devil himself."

"You're not the devil, Shiro. You're not even
a
devil, though there was a time I thought so."

"That's almost a compliment," Shiro said.

"Not in my book. A devil at least is doing his job. That's more than I can say for you."

Shiro frowned. "My job? You mean the quest for Enlightenment, all that rot?"

"Yes. All that rot. The reason Guan Yin came to you in the first place."

"That's the official view," Shiro said. "It's not the truth."

"You couldn't be more wrong."

"You talk like you know, but you don't. Why are you here, Jin? And I know it's not because I'm here; I'm not that deluded."

"I came to pay my respects to Joyce's life."

"That's Jin Hannigan talking. Guan Yin wouldn't need to. Guan Yin wouldn't walk out on Joyce's murderer. You can't be her, Jin. You try so very hard, but you can't."

Jin didn't say anything. More people were approaching the casket and she stepped aside but, before she did so, Jin reached out and briefly touched Joyce's hard cold hand.

Gotta go, luv. Gotta do what I should have done for you. Forgive me, whoever you are now
.

"Follow me, Shiro," Jin said.

"The service is about to start. You're not staying?"

"I've done what I needed to do here. Time for the next item on the agenda. That would be you."

Shiro frowned but he fell into step beside her. Jin walked out of the chapel and turned left. The first stones of Medias Municipal Cemetery came into view after they'd walked no more than fifty yards from the driveway to the funeral home. Jin came to the first gate that was open and walked in. Up on one of the low rolling hills she could see the green canopy that marked the grave waiting for Joyce's body. Not Joyce herself, of course. Jin knew she wasn't there, had known it since day one. Life went on, even when the physical body didn't. She would go on, after a fashion, no matter what happened today. She tried to keep that in mind even though she knew what stakes she was playing for. If she made too many mistakes she could deprive the world of Guan Yin. How long would the sentences in hell be then?

"Jin, where are you going?"

"Up on the hill. Are you coming?"

Shiro hesitated. "What are you up to?"

"Only one way for you to find out. Or are you too afraid to come out of the shadows?"

"I never intended to stay a shadow, Jin. That's not what I wanted and it never was. I'm looking forward to the day I can give up shadows forever."

"Then this is your lucky day."

He shook his head. "I don't know what you're planning, but I know you think you're going to trick me, Jin. That's not wise."

"Yeah, well I never claimed to be wise, no matter what people say about my divine form. I just know we can't go on. You're a mortal in love with Guan Yin, and she's never going to feel about you the way you feel about her. That's chapter and verse, Shiro, and somewhere in that besotted brain of yours you know it. Otherwise you'd never have created the golden cord for me to follow."

"You don't understand about that."

"Do you?" Jin asked, and was rewarded with a slight blush from Shiro.

"I'm human, believe it or not. I have lapses and, even after all this time, I have doubts. They pass. They always do. I refuse Enlightenment, so you'll never get rid of me that way."

Jin reached the hilltop. There were a few graves about, and a few large old oak trees. Jin stopped and turned back to look as Shiro walked up beside her. "What makes you think I want to get rid of you?"

He shook his head ruefully. "Oh, Jin... Do you take me for a total fool? Of course you do, just as she did."

"You speak as if we were different people."