Whatever it was Rai had to show was not evident until Sao was in the car, and they had travelled the length of the city, back over the bridge to the Southern end.

They bypassed the district of refurbished warehouses where Rai’s office was located, and continued, down a street widened for freight transport, to the docks. Sao wound the window down a few inches and smelled the salt of a frigid ocean, though he could not see it. The car came to a stop in a run-down neighborhood that fronted a storage yard. Stacks of cargo containers towered above like windowless buildings, interspersed with frozen cranes, creaking slightly in a wind that blew high above their heads.

The neighborhood was haunting in itself. There was nobody in sight, just blackened concrete and high fences. The snowfall of the day was sparse and dingy and lumped into corners, resembling a strange mold.

“Have you been here before?” Rai asked, punching the brakes.

“I don’t think so.”

“Not sure?” Rai checked the street. “This is where we’ll find the Sparrow gang. Three of them are neighbors, those three houses, so that’s where they tend to hang out.”

Three battered cottages stood down the street, only one with its lights on.

“Where they nest, you know?” Rai said.

“Yes, I got it. We couldn’t have come during the day?”

“Some of them have jobs. The only time they all get to meet up is after hours.” He shifted in his seat. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I suppose you saved me time waiting for a bus that might not have been coming.”

They were silent. As if that were really the reason.

“So you think that the Sparrow gang would want to meet me?”

“Probably not,” Rai said.

Another pause. Sao heard a distant horn. Were there ships sailing at such a time? Well, who knew when they set out - they could be coming into port after weeks or months. The sailors would just be pleased to get to their destination any time of day. For some, they were coming home. Sao was now thinking of his warm bed.

As if he could see Sao’s mind wander, Rai unlocked the car and shoved open his door. “You know the last time I tried to confront a gang, I got my head cracked open on a public urinal?”

“No, I did not.”

“There used to be a lot of them in the streets around the office. South side factory district before the sweeps. I made some pretty good money picking off loners, but groups were another story. Followed four of them into the bathroom, got kicked around a little. Walked out on my own, but the chief was pissed.”

“He would be.”

“Cadmus was alright with it. He was proud that I made a Life Fountain’s recovery, sort of. It took a few weeks. That was embarrassing.” Rai rubbed his gloved hand over his head. “I’d rather not freak the chief out again. Or make Cadmus proud.”

Rai was checking into the starless void above them.

“And an extra pair of ears could help...”

“I’m coming.” Sao pushed open the passenger door.

---

Rai, afraid? The thought of it made Sao want to laugh. Partially at himself for being endeared to such a tiny affirmation, that his supervisor was not oblivious to the human world. The confusion was only doubled by Rai implying he would make any useful backup in a backstreet brawl.

Cracking his skull on a public toilet. Good lord.

Sweat was building by the time someone answered the doorbell.

The man that greeted them was dressed homely, but had a wide, striking face and eyes so dark they must have been dyed. He was tall enough that his nose was almost level with the top of the doorframe, and when he ducked, a spread of reddish, almost purple, hair dropped into view - artificially colored, with dark roots growing in.

“Who are you?” he growled, stone gray teeth clashing.

“Police,” Rai said.

Sao had a premonition of both their shattered heads rolling down the driveway.

“Get in before someone sees you.”

Aside from a spot of mildew on the ceiling and the smell of smoke, the house was pleasant, and oddly sparse. There were candles lit in the living room, most of them on the floor, among them some open bags of potato chips, and a smattering of plainly clothed men draped over the only couch, watching sports cars fly across the television screen.

“We’re having a memorial.” Their host pushed them into the kitchen and had them stand against the sink, backs to the mountain of stained dishes. The man himself perched on a counter. His head nearly grazed the ceiling. “So what was it you said? Someone dead? The Flemings might have done something to their own?”

“First of all, thank you for being so cooperative,” Sao began.

The man gave him a pitch black stare and broke into a grin. “Look at this guy. You trying to get your ass kicked? No, no, I should be thanking you, sir, for coming all the way out here right after your fancy tuxedo dinner.”

“This isn’t…”

“I was the one who called,” Rai said. “You’re Neon?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s me.”

“Thanks for your cooperation,” Rai repeated for them both. “There’s a case involving the Flemings that happened shortly after you met them in the hospital, we were wondering if you could tell us a little more about that night.”

Neon crossed his formidable arms and said nothing.

“Let’s start with how your gang ended up in the ER,” Rai added unhelpfully.

Sao wanted to grab Rai by the collar and shake him. For a moment it seemed that Neon was going to do it for him. The man raised his large forearm, revealing a distended tattoo of a dragon, then slowly directed their attention to the small screened window which looked out onto a tiny square of backyard.

“See that?”

The yard was empty.

“It all happened because of that.” Neon lowered his arm. “Me, Zef and Arilla - that’s Zef’s girl - we live in the three houses on this row. Always have so we - our buddies, you’d call them the Sparrows - jump in and out of each other’s yards all the time. The fence is kind of fucked up because of that. Last year or so, some dumbasses from the back were thinking they could do the same. But these are people we don’t know, we don’t want them running through. We had to chase them out before, but they’re like roaches. There isn’t anything here for them, but they just keep doing it to piss us off. So that night, Zef was hanging out with Arilla and the guys before I got back from the realtor-”

“The realtor?” Rai asked.

“Where I work,” Neon said, crossing his tattooed arms and squinting his tattooed eyes. “That night the Bulls or the Trees or whoever they were, jumped in and decided this was the place to get trashed. Broke the barbecue, sat on the stairs, leaning on windows - all while Zef and the guys were right inside, so Zef blew up and ran out and that’s how it happened. I heard the fight when I got home. He was already on the ground by the time we saw him, he was yelling and shit, so we grabbed some knives and hammers from the kitchen and drove the stragglers out while Arilla called the ambulance. He was still talking when the medics loaded him in, but...” Neon shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t any good since he died.”

“I’m sorry,” Sao said.

“Hospital was a fucking shitshow that night too. Shouldn’t have gone. Other than Zef, nobody was really hurt.”

“There were three others injured in the fight,” Rai said.

“Yeah, but they’re fine. You three got out fine, right Q?” Neon called into the living room.

“Shut up, I’m trying to watch,” came the reply.

“There was never going to be any problem with the rest of the guys, we all got prepared before stepping out. It was just Zef who charged ahead without thinking. Anyway, when the doc patched the rest of us up and wheeled Zef upstairs, we hung around in the Fleming’s private room or whatever that was, waiting for him. But guess who never stepped back out. Shoulda known. That idiot should have known better than to run at a bunch of thugs unprotected.”

“You get a lot of gang trouble around here?” Rai continued.

“We’re not really a gang gang. I’m not saying that because you’re cops. Sure, we called ourselves the Sparrow gang on the streets, at the hospital, they were assuming it. But it’s just a name. Around here you have to make it clear you’ve got people backing you.” Neon snorted. “Maybe the other ‘gangs’ are the same. Just for show. Though if you ask me, picking a name like ‘Bulls’ is compensating for something.”

Rai picked at the loose handle of a cabinet under the sink, thoughtful. “The situation must be serious enough if Zef should have been armed.”

“Armed?” Tombstone teeth extended into a grin. “I didn’t say Zef had to be armed, I said he had to be protected.”

Rai raised a brow.

“Anyway, the hospital,” Neon said, and Sao felt Rai bristling, “You wanna know what we saw of the Flemings, right? A bunch of crazies if you ask me, high-end crazy too. If there was ever any motivation to stay at my crummy job and invite the Bulls onto my lawn, it’s the sight of what happens when you get rich enough to lock yourselves away from life. Allergies and death threats and annoyances everywhere. Holy shit, those voices. Shrill as fuck and they just wouldn’t stop, that’s how they got their way. Even had some dedicated attendant. They forced him to shove a bunch of other beds out of there. Those beds had coma patients in them, you know? What the fuck. Just so they kids could stretch out on the floor. It was all ‘my breathing air’, ‘my weak heart’, ‘my migraines,’ ‘my lymph nodes,’ on and on and on.”

“Did you take any interest in the uncle?”

“I broke my back disinteresting myself from caving his face in. The mother was… insidious.” Neon looked as if he might vomit. “But that brother of hers was just a garden-variety moron. Thought he was a gang all on his own, but you can bet he’s never so much as seen a public bathroom. He picked up the word ‘gang’ from the whispering doc and it was guns, guns, guns, I would have gunned them down all on my own, showed ‘em my gun, he was hacking up such garbage that even the family didn’t back him up.”

“None of your gang ever thought to get back at him?”

“Why bother? He still had his head on when we left. Well, the Flemings actually left before we did.” Neon smirked, contentedly. “Not before bringing the roof down.”

“What?”

“The Flemings. So almost midnight, still no news about Zef, but this Fleming character’s getting into his shooter fantasies again, you know, you should really put him under surveillance because I think he’s gonna pull something one day--”

Sao shot Rai a glance. Rai shook his head.

“And the mom’s trying to forcefeed this kid some shitty crackers, like the kind you have to eat with something else or you’ll choke on the sawdust - and I made a little joke and she flipped. You know, you should get some cops on her for abuse or something, because the, uh, special kid’s hands were totally cut up - what do you call them, defense wounds?”

“Sister too,” shouted someone from the other room.

“And the brother. The non-crazy one. All the kids. All cut up. Fucking weird.”

Rai’s hand lifted to stop Sao from trying to catch his attention again.

“Anyway,” Neon impelled them forward for the third time. “Midnight rolls around or something like that, and the doctor, the angry one who looks like he shaved half his face off - you know, scratches all over?” Neon scratched his own face. “He came in to tell them to quiet down, and that they couldn’t kick other patients out, and man, I thought we were finally gonna see fists flying. But just as both mom and bro and getting riled up, gramps opens his eyes and the husband goes, ‘Red’ and they all just turn to him. Like they saw a ghost. Big pause. Nobody moved. But then - then they cheered!”

Rai and Sao stared.

“They cheered. Boom.” Neon spread his arms in the air. “It was loud. Really fucking loud. They were loud to begin with and they were all screaming and cheering and I couldn’t hear myself think.” He dropped his arms. “You had to be there. It was really fucking loud. I’ve been to some loud venues, but big bass speakers at a club - that’s nothing compared the Flemings. Could have killed someone. I’m surprised grandpa didn’t pass out again.”

“And then?”

“They don’t get it,” shouted the man named Q from the other room.

Neon smiled and shook his head. “You don’t get it. Alright, whatever. After that, they left. They screamed for their personal attendant but some other nurse came in and wheeled grandpa out for them. Kids running around, mom crying and hands in the air, it was like a parade. Last we ever saw of the Flemings, or heard from them, thank god. Until the news, I guess.”

“What have you seen in the news?”

“‘News’ is a nice way of putting it. I see whatever it is the Daily Flash vomits up. They said one of the Flemings died. Bet it’s one of the kids, judging by the look of those parents. But there’s something weird about it, huh? They’re saying that it’s a demon that grabbed onto Red’s shoulders when he rode out of hell.” Neon frowned. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Go ahead,” Rai said. “So the… light news. Do you believe any of it?”

Neon drew a cigarette from from unseen pocket, and started picking through the kitchen drawers for a light. “The demon thing sounds like horseshit. Demons don’t exist. Curse, well, maybe.”

“Why do you think it might be a--” Rai began, but gagged on his words when Neon found his lighter. In the same drawer, there was a string of small, thin white shapes. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Neon asked, puffing a thin stream of smoke. Rai strode over to him and yanked the drawer open, rattling some straws and chopsticks, as well as a necklace of small discolored bones. He held it aloft like a hunter’s trophy.

Some of the Sparrow members were peering around the corner of the doorframe. Neon took a drag. “Ah, that. You wanna know why Zeph really got stabbed? It’s because he didn’t have that on him. He didn’t take the bones seriously, and look what happened to him.”

“What is this?”

“A charm. Blessings. They’re real, you know. Yeah, I see your faces, I felt the same way until one of ‘em saved my ass.” Neon pulled an identical charm out from another pocket somewhere on his black massive pants and raised it in exaltation. “I had just got this thing, like within the day, when I was caught in a bathroom with a bunch of thugs, one of the real gangs, the kind who make money from it. I had gotten involved with one of their money men and I knew they were looking for me, figured they wouldn’t find me in that part of town, but they did. And I got out of there untouched. It’s a great story. First, a guy was making his way over and the mop handle sitting nearby fell over - just like that, nobody around, no wind - like the spirits pushed it - he came at me but then he tripped, and blam - shoves the second guy's head into the sink. Right into the corner, and they both hit the tile, headfirst. And while those two are bleeding on the floor the third guy turns around and I punched him in the dick and he practically flew back; I’m not that strong you know, but it was just shoom backward and he hit his head on the mirror - smash - more bad luck for you! I ran out of there believing in magic for the first time in my life.”

Rai gave a dry cough.

Neon rubbed the single sharp, darker piece that Sao had also seen on Karik’s necklace. The shark tooth. “Zef, that fucker. Didn’t believe in his own woman. Coulda at least worn it to make her happy.”

“Arilla got them for you?”

“She makes them. Does the spells and everything herself. She’s a witch, you know.”

Sao thought Rai’s head might pop at that. “Where is she now?” Rai sputtered.

“She’s not home.”

“When will she be back?”

The tip of Neon’s cigarette glowed, then blackened. “Dunno.”

“Can I have this then? For evidence-”

“No, you can’t. This is Zef’s charm and if you haven’t noticed, we’re holding his memorial. Beside, some of those idiots out there lost their charms at the hospital, and it’s gonna take a while to replace them all.” Neon sighed, unleashing a disconsolate stream of smoke. “He should have known. But maybe it’s not great to rely on these things. You never know. One small step outta line and all the bad luck it’s been holding back could come crashing down on you.”

“Reminds me of a movie. Witch Part 3,” Rai said. “The witch gave the main kids’ family each a talisman and they started getting lucky, at work, at school, at the lottery - and then the brother gets greedy and sells his and suddenly they’re cursed.”

“The way they treated it was better in Part 12,” Neon said. “Nobody watched it because it went straight to home video, but it was a better idea, more realistic, basically amulets were becoming a mass market...”

“Oh, yeah, and everyone starts relying on them and the world is better at first, but everyone’s paranoid about their amulets, meanwhile the witch is up in her mansion counting up her millions. I’ve seen every part.”

“About time I met someone with taste,” Neon laughed.

They both assessed Sao, who stood by clueless. He could only wonder how many parts were in the Witch film series. Rai's smile was sharp enough to draw blood. “You know, they based those amulet market plots on a real group of mages who moved in from the east, over twenty years ago. They were just selling basic charms but the police flushed them out. Some papers called them scams, but when you look closer it was probably just the church fundamentalists being petty.”

“Idiots,” Neon scoffed. “But yeah, I knew. Shamans or animal users. Arilla’s from out east herself. She’s one of ‘em, or the daughter of one, something like that. But that shit’s real, her people have been practicing bone blessings for centuries.”

“And curses?”

Neon sniffed. “Don’t think she can do those.”

“Where was Arilla when you were at the hospital? Did she meet the Flemings?”

“She was around when the nurse put us into that room, she said hi and got out of there. Lucky break. Well, maybe not. I think she was upstairs, where they were doing Zef’s surgery. That idiot.”

There was a moment of silence for poor, dumb Zef.

Neon tipped ash from his cigarette onto the counter. “I hope you’re not suspecting her of… whatever happened to the Flemings. This ‘curse’. She has no reason to do that kind of thing.”

Other than a dead husband, Sao thought.

“It was probably someone else. You weren’t there, you don’t know how loud those fuckers were. They could have pissed any number of people off. I did say they were loud enough to kill. To wake the dead too.” The tip of Neon’s cigarette dropped, the ash invisible against his black sweatshirt. “After all, grandpa got up. I mean, I’m glad that night ended good for them, they were really, really happy walking out of there - but they weren’t normal.”

The air had grown sour. Neon gazed out the window, but didn’t open it.

“Or maybe the curse was for us, you know? The Sparrows - but it bounced off. You know.” He threw the necklace over his head. It did not settle flat, the stiff bones pointed up and caught in his clothes, but seemed content as if he were wrapped in a blanket. He pulled up and dangled the tooth-like tip. “Because we were protected.”

---

Sao was left wondering if he had really been needed at all. Rai, clearly unafraid, even enthused, hummed a tuneless strain over the low grumble of the heating vents. Sao rolled his window back up and shivered.

“I don’t think the Sparrows cared about offing the Flemings,” Rai said.

“It certainly seems that way.”

“Guess we have to speak to Arilla to make sure.”

The car emerged from the dockland and continued onto the main highway, now empty.

“Hey, Sao.”

“Yes?”

“You should try the Witch movies. Might be helpful to the case.” Sao doubted it. “They’re not too bad,” Rai offered. “The first one is really old. The effects are good, but they aren’t scary at all.”

Rai dropped Sao off outside his estate, and shot off without any further recommendation or thanks. Sao waved to the guardhouse and continued down the lighted path fringed with winter aconites, to the sliding doors of his towering apartment building. From there, he performed his typical ritual - elevator, lockup, shoes off, face off, shower, collapse into the cushions.

The only variation was that he tried to watch the first installation of the Witch series before bedtime. His television offered high-quality streaming, and he unwisely thought, why not?

The baffling video began near midnight and he believed he watched the entire thing but couldn’t be sure. When the titular witch was defeated, if she had really been the villain all along, she peeled off her face and then the rest of her skin, flinging the wet sheet aside and sending Sao into a spiral of very uncomfortable dreams.