The door to the armory from the main house was down the hall from the kitchen. Geun could feel his blood tug hard at him as they passed through it. The armory was somewhere else, like many of the big rooms Geun had seen in Kigen Hanmaki’s domain so far. Though calling it a big room was not exactly correct. It was more like a big hallway, wide enough to drive two cars down, capped by a counter made of the same white pine that the floor was made of. Scores of double doors lined the hallway. In the distance a little forklift carrying goods drove through one of them.

A hefty-looking tanuki about a head shorter than Geun was behind the counter. He had the characteristic round ears of his type of yokai, deep brown fur, and was wearing a gray kimono in the style of the serving women in the audience hall. The kimono’s lines were ruined in the front by the ridiculous testicles that tanuki males were known for; it looked like he was smuggling a pair of basketballs under the robe.

The tanuki’s Japanese was flawless; he sounded more like a newscaster than a supernatural being. “Greetings. Only main house members and their guests are granted passage through that door; which are you?”

Gennady interrupted, “Choki, we’ve got a time limit. Did Palkin send you his list?”

Choki’s round eyes widened a bit when Gennady spoke. He quickly disregarded Geun and said, “Yes sir, but Miss Ai also sent a message requesting counterfeit rocks. We just got it. I have Pepper making them now.”

“How long will that take?

Choki glanced toward the endless rows of doors behind him. “With how quick the gnomess works, it should be ready before your equipment and arms are done being loaded.”

Geun nodded, “Fine. Did we get a weapons clearance for the transport?”

“Yes sir, Kigen Hanmaki signed it. Paa and Guu are helping the crew fit the guns now, and you’ll have ammunition for them.”

“And the personal weapons?”

Choki placed a belt holster on the counter. “Your Stechkin revolver is here, with five moon clips in the pouches.”

Geun picked up the belt, secured it around his waist, and asked, “Palkin’s rifle, and the TK-11s?”

“Yes, two TK-11s for the crew, and another three for your squad; three with a suppressor, two with bayonets. Two coffin magazines for each of the crew, and three for each of your squad, all loaded with Parabellum; three stick magazines of Paraignis for your guns as well. Agent Palkin’s rifle is already loaded up and is how he specified.”

Gennady said, “We’ll need web gear and armor for this guy,” he gestured at Geun, ”and- how big is your cousin Geun?”

“She’s a little smaller than Ai’s size.”

“And another level 3-A vest and helmet for a petite woman. A steamer trunk that a woman that size can fit in, too.”

Choki was tapping on a terminal on the countertop while Gennady made demands. “I will have the additional order items ready before you go.”

Gennady leaned in, looming over the tanuki. “One last amendment, you may need to clear it with the Boss. Luck and anti-curse charms for two people.”

It was hard for Geun to read Choki’s expression, but he was sure the tanuki was showing more teeth on purpose as he spoke. “For Geun and his kin?”

“Yes.”

The stocky yokai picked up a stylus and signed a box on the terminal screen with it. “I am putting in the request now, sir.”

A set of doors down the hallway flew open, and a gnome operating what was possibly the cutest forklift Geun had ever seen drove through them and up to the counter. The vehicle’s forks were loaded with a wooden steamer trunk with brass fittings, and a couple of hard shell plastic cases.

Gennady turned to Geun and instructed, “Grab the trunk and whatever cases you can carry and go through the side door. It is set to the lake.”

By the time Geun had finished passing through the indicated door, he’d lost track of Gennady entirely. So he set down the large trunk he’d been saddled with and just took a moment to figure out where exactly he needed to go. He had expected an enchanted boat when Gennady mentioned a flying boat. Something with billowing sails, slick lines, and maybe some galley slaves to contribute energy toward keeping the ship aloft. Maybe a small sloop, maybe a large cog. Maybe a modern pleasure-cruising yacht, though anything with too much synthetic material was prohibitively expensive to lay enchantments in.

Instead, Geun was looking at a seaplane in black livery. It had a huge wing high over the body, a sharp bow, a boat-like fuselage, and big plexiglass bubble blisters placed on the waist for defensive gun pintles. A pair of oversized engine nacelles were built into the wing, near the center of mass of the aircraft. There were stabilizing floats at the tips of the wings, and landing gear wheels which could pull up into the sides of the fuselage.

The flying boat was parked before a boat ramp to a huge lake. All around them, as far as the eye could see, was a white pine forest. At the dock beside the ramp were a couple of zodiac inflatables, the sort of thing a cigarette boat operator or a sport fisherman would use. Two hefty-looking raccoon dogs were shuffling crates over to the seaplane and had their backs to Geun. A utility building, maybe a sanitary station, was the structure that the armory’s door was built into.

A friendly voice from the side asked, “You like it?”

Geun turned to the speaker. “Yeah. Not what I expected though.”

The speaker had a cigarette in hand. He wore a beaten up bomber jacket, a green baseball cap, and aviator sunglasses. Gray sideburns extended down the man’s face. He hooked the thumb of his free hand into a belt loop and gestured with his cigarette. “Catalinas are rare birds nowadays. And this one’s a turbo-cat.”

“Catalina Turbo-Cat?”

The smoker spoke with the exaggerated pronunciation that Americans tended to use for Japanese, peppering his speech with lots of English. “She’s got Rolls-Royce turboprop engines, updated avionics, and some things that the Yokai-Shugo added. She’s tough, dependable, and maintainable in all sorts of rough conditions. That’s the draw. She can operate in most demiplanes, and land practically anywhere there’s water or a road.”

When Geun turned he noticed there was an odd wall standing on the shore of the lake. It was wide and long, with no other walls attached to it and no roof. Hundreds of windows were built into it, each apparently linked somewhere else.

The smoker followed Geun’s gaze and said, “Oh yeah, everyone that wants a lake view can get it. Don’t worry about that. Now, I assume you’re going on this trip?”

Geun offered his hand. “Yes. I’m Geun, by the way.”

The smoker clamped his cigarette between his lips for a moment and took the handshake. “I’m Whitney, operator and majority shareholder of that Black Cat. Get your gear aboard, my copilot will tell you where to stow stuff.”

There was no boarding ramp. The Catalina had a ladder near the cockpit, and one by the rear turret blisters, and that was it. The pair of tanuki were handing crates and boxes up in a chain to the man inside the plane. Geun joined them.

The man offered Geun a hand in, and said, “Hi, Geun? Dmitrii. Nice to work with you. Move that trunk in and strap it to those D-rings and I’ll keep moving stuff down to you.”

Some minutes passed as they loaded everything up. They were nearly done when Gennady turned up. He thrust the messenger bag that Boon-Broker had originally provided into Geun’s hands and said, “Your gear. If we have to go hot you’ll be glad to have it. There’s a vest, a helmet, a luck charm, and an anti-curse amulet. If either of the amulets crumble it means someone just tried to kill you.”

“Good to know. Is the armor enchanted?”

“No, it’s Dyneema fabric; totally synthetic. The vest will fit under your shirt. Choki threw in an undershirt for you too, so put that on before we get there. Have you ever shot a gun before?”

“I never had to serve in the army. There was some agreement my clan had with the government. I was supposed to be trained by my uncle but-”

Gennady interrupted, “Shut up. I don’t care. Ask Ai or Palkin to run over the basics with you on the way. Until one of them says it’s fine, you’re not handling any of the guns.”

“I will show him,” Palkin said as he squeezed his huge frame through a hatch designed for the average man of the 1920s. He was wearing a tweed three piece suit, complete with a black tie and oxfords. If he was wearing any kind of armor under his jacket Geun couldn’t tell.

Gennady turned and said, “Finally, can we get this done with now?”

Whitney was in the pilot’s seat and called back, “We’ll go when you’re all seated. Palkin, go sit in one of the blisters. We won’t need the guns for take-off, and there’s nowhere else that’s got as much headroom for you.”

“True, this plane was not built for men like me. Geun, come take the other blister, the view is the best and I can show you how to be safe with your gun.”

Ai climbed into the plane. She had reshaped her face fully for the part of Palkin’s daughter now, down to how she had copied his dimples and strong jaw. She had the messenger bag that formerly belonged to the two attackers looped around her shoulder, completing the schoolgirl on holiday disguise. “It’s me, Ai.”

Dmitrii said to her, “I like the look, sweetie. You keeping it?”

She took a passenger seat. “Thank you, but no; just for this mission.”

Whitney asked, “Hey, Dmitrii how’s the KEG?”

Dmitrii tapped a gauge on his side of the control panel, and then said, “The key emulation generator is ready. The Boss gave us seven different keys total: four for the planned route plus three for alternate routes.”

“Good. Y’all ready?”

Various affirmative replies sounded off; the twin turboprops coughed to life, and Guu and Paa pulled the chocks from under the wheels. The flying boat rolled forward. There was a thrum of a hydraulic pump lifting the gear up as the boat hull got deep enough into the lake to be fully buoyant, and then it was a straight run while the Catalina pulled itself along the lake’s surface. Geun had a really good view from his turret blister seat; motion in the distance on shore caught his eye. A dozen or so of the kitsune servants in grey kimonos were leaning out of windows in the wall on the bank, waving goodbye.

Geun turned to Palkin, and the big man said, “They always like to do that. Wave back if you want.”

Geun shrugged at Palkin. “So. Before we get to the gun training, I was supposed to tell you about my other outstanding obligations.”

Palkin nodded, “Oh, right, so that you may work for Lyuba. Well, we have some time. List them, starting with the most urgent.”

Geun started sharing his woes, “I have to either finish my job for Boon-Broker today, or be out of his hotel before he forecloses on my room and notifies the people that killed my family where he last saw me. I owe eighteen continuous days of work every year for five years to a summer goblin that never gave me her name. I am obligated to carry out secure messenger duties for a community of sirens, twelve courier trips per year for twenty years. I agreed to commit an unspecified murder in the future for a sazae oni. And I promised a jeoseung saja that I would help recover whatever intact souls of my kin remain.”

Palkin’s expression got more and more dire as Geun listed all the debts, obligations, and promises he’d made. “How the hell did you rack up so many debts?”

Geun didn’t like thinking about it, but Palkin’s question was fair. “When my family was destroyed I had little in the way of my own resources. I wasn’t finished being trained to be a soldier for the clan. I could get myself anywhere, but I had few options for getting out with Yeon. So I traded promises.”

Palkin nodded, considering the problem seriously. “Some of these we may be able to get out of with just money. The sazae oni, why did you promise to murder someone for her?”

“She robbed the crew on the ship Yeon and I were taking to Boon-Broker’s hotel. They were cash-poor because they accepted a promise of work from me, which meant they couldn’t pay her ransom after she stole their jewels. They didn’t want to leave without them though, so I negotiated with her so they could be made whole and we could keep moving before my enemies found us.”

Palkin nodded. “Right. She should be open to being paid off. Her kind all love gold.”

Geun leaned back as the plane pulled off the lake. “We’d have to find her.”

“No problem, we can ask around. The sirens, are they on a flying island?”

Geun shook his head, again frustrated that Palkin didn’t just speak Korean. “They’re not Greek sirens; it’s a family of inmyeonjo. They live in Korea. I’m supposed to check with them once a month. If they have a package to go somewhere, or a pickup to be made, I do so. Otherwise when I check in, my duty that month is done.”

“They sound reasonable. That one you might just want to pay off normally. What about the jeoseung saja? What is that, even?”

A hydraulic pump somewhere in the wings hissed as the floats on either wingtip were pulled up. Geun looked out over the lake and woods as the pilots banked the plane. “It is- the translation is something like ‘otherworld messenger’ and they conduct souls to the afterlife. A grim reaper.”

Palkin mused, “Or a psychopomp. That’s fine, the protocol for dealing with that class of being is to pass them to Lyuba and let her deal with the headache. You have some way to contact it?”

“No, he said he’d contact me when he had leads.”

Palkin grunted. “And the summer goblin?”

“She gets her days this year starting next week. I don’t know what I have to do for her. I traded the work for an introduction to Boon-Broker.”

Palkin rubbed his chin. “We will have to talk to her and see if some other arrangement is possible. Summer goblins are more flexible than most yokai.”

Dmitrii called into the back, “Hold on to your butts, we’re on approach to the gale gate.”

Geun’s blood hummed as Dmitrii activated the KEG; two locus points of energy tugged at them. The first was a tight bundle of spellwork seated in some object up in the wing pylon. Geun could tell it had the same signature as Lyubov’s magic, and guessed from context it was the generator part of the KEG. It had seemed entirely mundane to his senses until Dmitrii activated it. The second locus was outside the plane, some distance ahead. Geun leaned into the plane’s blister so he could look forward, and got a good view of a whorl of mist ahead of them where a cloud was turning into a sideways cyclone. The wind screamed and the thin ribbon of mist expanded in diameter until the eye of the cyclone was larger than the plane’s wingspan. At the point of crossing Geun could swear he could taste the moisture in the air, feel the damp chill permeating the aluminum skin of the aircraft, and sense the sudden flip in orientation as the plane passed from one demiplane to another.

Far below Geun could see endless salt flats; miles of wasteland as far as he could see from his side of the plane.

Palkin hefted a submachine gun with a bulky barrel and wooden stock and said, “It will be more interesting on the next leg. Now, let me show you how to operate the Tankikanjū 11; our in-house clone of the Swedish K.”

Geun tried not to let his dismay show as Palkin launched into a lecture on the finer points of the differences between the original run of this submachine gun design and Lyuba’s various small improvements.