Excerpt: Leah Bishop & the Book of Tsen-Ke

Looking pleased, Elliott pushed a piece of black cloth into Leah’s hands. It felt like panty hose. Upon closer inspection, she saw it actually appeared to be dark purple.

“Slip this on and see how it fits,” he said. She held it up. It looked like a tiny little suit. Like something a six-year-old might wear to a dance recital.

“You must be kidding,” Leah said.

“It stretches,” he said. “Hurry. And here, take these boots.”

She took the boots, walked into the bathroom and put on the whole getup. Elliott hadn’t been kidding about the stretchy fabric. She looked in the mirror. Ordinary in every way, save for the suit. Its deep color looked garish against her pale, freckled complexion, and would have been better contrasted with hair any color other than Leah’s messy mouse brown. Ridiculous, she thought. A stunned waitress in purple long johns. She walked out of the bathroom.

“Suck in,” Elliott said.

“Shut up, Elliott,” said Sue Ann, who clicked open a small case and held it out to Leah. “You have to wear this all the time,” she said, and lifted out a necklace.

It was a circle, half gold and half silver, on a heavy chain. The chain was gold on one side and silver on the other. The two tones met in a sort of geometric yin/yang, with hard angles instead of soft curves.

Leah eyed it dubiously. She usually only wore silver-toned jewelry, but viewed in the context of all these other things to which she had an objection, that didn’t seem like a big deal. The clasp made a loud click when she fastened it. She stepped back into the bathroom for a look in the mirror.

In the hundredth of an instant before logic edited the image looking back at Leah, she thought she was looking at her mother. How could I have forgotten this? The necklace had been as much a part of Violet Bishop as her skin, her voice, the features of her face. Just like that, denial and shock fluttered away from Leah like frightened birds. She believed.

Fear, for a time, was content to wait.

“Never take it off,” said Sue Ann as Leah stepped back into the living room. The silver-and-gold circle felt heavy and warm where it lay against Leah’s chest. She stood up a little straighter. Elliott pushed something else into her hands. She looked down at it - more cloth. Yellow. A mask, and—of course, why not? A cape.

“Purple and yellow, huh,” she said.

“There wasn’t time to finish it,” Elliott said. “When I get a little time, I’m going to put a big red A on the front.”

“You can’t make her wear a big red A on her chest, Elliott, for crying out loud,” said Sue Ann.

“Why not? Vega’s got a big red V. We need to go for some consistency.”

“Elliott, my god. Trust me on this. Think of something else.”