by Liz Delton
Kira couldn’t have followed if she wanted to. Her limbs were locked into tight knots. She crouched, frozen by Panji’s hooves. Her library card poked uncomfortably into her leg.
Anzu hailed the strangers in a strong, clear voice. Kira unkinked an arm and reached up to clutch Panji’s stirrup. She forced herself to stand, watching the exchange with wide eyes.
Kira might have imagined the gust of wind, but she was sure the next moment she saw Anzu flat on her back, blown over by some force. Kira bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry out. Just like that, her savior Anzu lay motionless on the ground.
The two villains approached the prone knight. Then a burst of light exploded like a small bomb, knocking them back. Amidst the fading light stood Anzu, a staff in her hand that she hadn’t had when she’d walked over there. A long, sharp blade topped the staff, which she swung in a circle, holding the two men at bay.
Anzu began a strange sort of dance—dodging what seemed like dark wind—while wielding her bladed weapon in bold jabs and powerful sweeps.
It seemed like Anzu was winning; the two men grew slower, took less risks. Just as Anzu was about to give a powerful blow to one of the men, everything went dark.
It wasn’t just Anzu’s fight Kira couldn’t see. Panji wasn’t there, either. Everything was velvety black.
“Panji?” she whispered. The horse whickered nervously. For a second, she was worried that the vision she had once thought cursed had deserted her.
And then a hand grabbed her arm.
“Anzu!” she tried to cry, but another hand clamped around her mouth. Strong arms encased her and dragged her away from Panji.
Not here. Not now, was all she could think. She dug her heels down into the dirt, slowing their progress. She bit at the hand and jabbed her elbows in all directions to no avail.
She heard a man grunt, and at once she was surrounded by more than darkness. It was like a tight sack made of nothing but dark air had been slipped over her, pinning her arms where they were. She still couldn’t see a thing. Her captor gripped her around the middle and continued to drag her. She kicked him, hard.
The next moment, she was on the ground, her temple throbbing. She hadn’t even felt the strike. She felt the kick in her side next, though, when the man got his revenge.
One of the men fighting Anzu shouted wildly. Kira’s captor nearly kicked her in the head as he left her and headed in the direction of the fight. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
The shouts that rang in the night grew angrier. Anzu yelped, and Kira’s stomach twisted. Could Anzu hold off three men, all of whom seemed to wield invisible magic? Were they truly Shadow mages, like Anzu believed? Kira now knew why they were to be feared. What else could they do with invisible magic?
Just as she started contemplating what three strange magic wielders might want with her, she felt a soft poke at her stomach.
She tensed, blind to everything. Another poke. Instinctively, she rolled onto her back and tried to get her legs into a maneuverable position—the only things she could move.
A small weight landed on her stomach, and it had feet. Paws. They pressed into her stomach as the thing settled itself.
It began nudging at the constricting sack-like bonds that held her. Slowly, the bottom of the bonds began to loosen. She forgot to be afraid as her arms were freed. As the constrictions lifted, Kira saw light. A soft glow came from the creature sitting on her stomach. Finally, it was lifted, and she was nearly blinded by the fox.
Of course! Kira had forgotten all about the glowing creature. It darted off her as soon as she was free.
“Thank you.” Her eyes filled with spots, and she was unable to see properly as they adjusted from the sudden brightness.
“Is Anzu all right?”
The fox didn’t answer.
Kira didn’t hear anything at all from where Anzu had been fighting. The fox tentatively walked in that direction, but then it turned around and jerked its head at Kira in a movement that so clearly said, Stay there.
Kira did as she was told, more out of shock than anything else. She blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the not-quite-darkness.
“Anzu?”
“I’m here,” the knight called wearily, and Kira squinted to see Anzu making her way back to her horse, the glowing fox trailing behind her.
Chapter Five
The Starless Realm
The fox disappeared with the dawn. Kira didn’t know why, but she had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t entirely gone.
Kira and Anzu—both wedged in Panji’s saddle now—had ridden swiftly the rest of the night, following the Kaidō Road but keeping out of sight as best they could.
The sparkling glow of Kira’s vision also faded with the rising of the sun. It now felt less like a curse and more like a tool. Something she could use. She smiled a little as she watched it fade completely.
They stopped to rest at the foot of three mountains, all grouped together as if they were friends. A soft mist hung over their tops; Kira couldn’t see how tall they were. She could smell food cooking somewhere, and her mouth began to water. She had been so distracted since running through the door that she had forgotten to be hungry until now.
Anzu led Panji down a well-worn path off the Kaidō road, toward the center mountain. The dirt road was only wide enough for one car to drive on—but Kira had a growing suspicion that such things didn’t exist in the Realm of Camellia. Magic-wielding warriors, water demons, and glowing foxes were far from any place she had ever lived in, even New York City.
But what was she supposed to do? The door had disappeared, and Anzu had enlightened her only in bits and pieces about her new vision. She had to learn more. First, she wanted to find out how to make her own weapon, like Anzu’s. She was sure that Light magic would work against the dark-creature as it had against the Shadow mages.
When they reached the base of the mountain, two guards at an open gate hailed them, both wearing similar garb to Anzu. Each wore a white sash about his or her waist, with their flared black pants and pads of leather armor.
With a short greeting and a hushed conversation that Kira couldn’t hear, they were through the gate. One of the guards grinned at Kira as she passed, and she couldn’t help but nervously smile back.
The thick stone wall through which they passed looked fairly new; the trees that had been cut to clear room lay in pieces nearby, stacked in piles and split for firewood. As soon as they passed into the mountain forest, a sense of peace settled on Kira, though she couldn’t understand why.
A winding path zig-zagged up the face of the mountain, and Kira was soon sweating through her clothes at the effort of climbing. They were on foot now, to give Panji a break after carrying two riders most of the night. Kira peeled off her jacket and tied it around her waist and swept her hair into a ponytail as she walked.
Anzu didn’t say much as they went, just like the night before. The knight seemed like one of those people who didn’t need to talk to fill the silence, who was comfortable with the quiet. Kira didn’t mind much. She only wished Anzu would tell her more about Light magic but was afraid to ask. She didn’t know why, but she felt like she should try to blend in for now. It was safer if Anzu thought she was one of them.
The smell of food grew stronger the higher they climbed, and the thought of it kept Kira going, ever higher up the mountain.
Without the mysterious light to distract her, Kira now found herself studying the landscape. The path they followed was well worn and lined with grey stones on either side. Some were as big as Panji, while others merely the size of melons. Sunlight filtered through the mist, shedding light on the path and the woods around them. Just as she was admiring the leaves, which were beginning to change with autumn, she realized that it was the same season here as it was in North Noxbury.
Before she had time to think too much about it, they had gone around another sharp turn in the path and were met with a tall set of stone stairs. There were two stone statues at the bottom,
each carved like a lantern, both with a small flame burning in the center. The wide blue sky stretched far above them at the top of the stairs.
Anzu tied Panji to a post, where Kira noticed another path leading around the mountain. The horse immediately began to drink loudly and enthusiastically out of the water trough beside the post. After patting Panji farewell, Anzu led the way up.
All of a sudden Kira felt nervous. Doubt assailed her, and her breath became quick in panic. Why had she come here? What if the door came back?
What if she never made it back to North Noxbury?
Then she remembered the dark-creature and the water demon. No, Kira thought, it’s safer with Anzu—in this realm, or my own world. If Anzu thought Kira should go to the temple, then that was where she would go. For now, at least.
More than anything, she wanted to learn more about the dark-creature and the door that had taken her to this realm. But she couldn’t bring these up with Anzu, not until she knew more.
Finally, they reached the top of the stairs. Kira tried to hide the fact that she was panting, out of breath.
An enormous gate towered over them, its ceramic paneled roof flaring up at the corners. Square columns separated the entrance into three paths. Golden filigree decorated the bases and tops of the sturdy dark wood columns. Alongside the gate, a thick stone wall covered in moss spread in both directions. This gate and wall were much, much older than the one at the bottom of the mountain.
Anzu lowered her arm, and her bladed staff dissolved into light as if it had never existed. Kira watched as the light dispersed, soaking into the air around them. Light magic.
“Welcome to Gekkō-ji.”
They passed through the gate and entered the temple grounds. Trees rose on either side of the temple square, nestling it in a dip in the mountain. Several large buildings lined the edges of the square, and in the middle stood a beautiful cherry blossom tree. Delicate pink blooms decorated the dark, twisting branches.
She had seen cherry blossom trees in New York, at the botanical gardens, but thought they bloomed only in the spring. Whether in North Noxbury or the Realm of Camellia, autumn was approaching.
The temple square was nearly deserted. The few people about were intent on their tasks and spared no glance for Kira or Anzu. One boy fastidiously swept the stones outside a long, single-story building to their left. He wore a sleeveless jacket and loose pants, with a black sash about his waist, clasped with a crescent-shaped silver disk. Another boy hurried toward them, heading for the stairs, an empty satchel in hand. When Kira turned around to look, she saw two more people standing on either side of the enormous gate they had passed through, each with two swords at their waists, their faces obscured by helmets like Anzu’s.
Anzu walked straight across the square toward the largest building, and Kira stuck close by her. They passed right by the cherry blossom tree. Kira thought it odd that no petals littered the ground beneath the tree; each blossom was perfect and intact on the branches.
The building they headed for looked entirely out of place. The other buildings reminded Kira of the ones she had seen in the same botanical garden in New York where she’d seen the cherry blossoms; they looked Japanese in style. The building at the back of the temple square rose several stories high and was made of stone. It towered imperiously over its one-storied, wooden companions with their angled roofs.
A massive clock face above the arched doorway caught Kira’s attention. It glowed brilliantly in the sunlight. As they got closer, Kira realized it wasn’t glowing at all—merely reflecting the light from the sun among its many facets. All at once, it glinted blue, white, gold, and silver.
“We call this the Moonstone,” Anzu said, gesturing up at the building.
Kira realized the reflective stone inlaid in the clock reminded her of the fox. She wondered where it was now and if it had followed them here, invisible in the light.
They stepped through the double doors into a low entranceway. The floors and walls were smooth, highly polished wood. A large opening across from the entrance revealed a beautiful walled garden with a tiny pond. Anzu, silent as ever, led Kira to the right and down a long hallway, lit by small lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
The knight paused by a door halfway down the hallway and knocked. The door slid open almost immediately. Anzu traded quiet words with the older man within, and they both beckoned Kira into the room.
“I look forward to meeting you again,” Anzu said, taking a step back.
Kira’s mouth twisted into what she hoped was a smile as she thanked Anzu for escorting her. The truth was—for once in her life—she wasn’t quite ready to be on her own, and she had grown rather fond of the knight. Not wanting to look weak, however, she gave her thanks once more, and Anzu departed in her usual silence.
The man bowed to Kira, and out of nervousness she bowed back, not knowing if it was the proper thing to do. He smiled, and she relaxed. A little.
“Greetings. I am Ichiro Starwind, Master of Gekkō-ji. Welcome.”
“Thank you. I’m Kira.”
“Kira, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope your time here is productive and rewarding. Please, sit down.” Ichiro gestured to a cushion in front of a low table, and Kira sat gratefully. It was an immense relief to sit on something that wasn’t a horse.
She found herself facing a wall made entirely of small wooden compartments. Each held at least one paper scroll; some were completely stuffed with paper, and others held only a single sheaf.
Ichiro had gone to a large cupboard in the wall behind Kira. From the corner of her eye, she watched him remove a teapot and cups. She studied him as he worked, making tea. He wore wide-legged pants and a long jacket, both made of exquisite grey fabric, embroidered in places with black thread. His black and grey hair was rather long but confined to a tail on top of his head.
Everyone she had seen so far at Gekkō-ji, including Master Ichiro, appeared to be Japanese, stoking Kira’s suspicions that this realm was somehow connected to an earlier era Japan. The only exception was this building, which was more like a small European castle than anything. What is this place? she wondered.
She had seen enough movies and read enough books to have an idea of what had happened to her. The door had led her to some other world. She was certain she hadn’t gone back in time—though Camellia might feel like an earlier time, she had never thought real magic existed before.
After a few minutes, Ichiro placed two steaming cups of green tea on the table, along with a matching ceramic teapot. He joined her, sinking onto the cushion across from her with effortless grace, despite his age. He smiled at her in a grandfatherly way, yet Kira could easily picture him pinning her with a steely gaze if she stepped out of line. He raised his cup, and Kira did the same. She could tell by holding it that it was just the right temperature. They both took a sip in silence, and Kira replaced her cup on the table, nervously swallowing.
Ichiro reached behind him without looking and selected a scroll from one of the many compartments. Methodically, he opened the scroll, half of which was already covered in careful writing. He retrieved a quill from a hidden compartment in the table and wrote something next to the first line. Next, he looked up at her, fixing her with a studious gaze.
“Your full name?” he asked, and suddenly it was just like the school interview back in North Noxbury.
“Kira Savage,” she replied, and she smiled to find her voice strong.
He began to scratch her name onto the scroll with his quill. His handwriting was very neat. Kira’s stomach growled. The tea had somehow made her even hungrier than before.
“Where are you from, Kira?”
Kira had taken another sip of tea, and it now turned to ice as it slid down her throat. “Um—”
“Anzu told me you’re from the Shadow region—don’t worry, you’ve nothing to fear here. We don’t allow discrimination against our trainees, no matter where they come from.”
Kira bit her lip, thinking fast,
but then the door slid open without warning, saving her from answering.
A woman dressed in dark green stepped into the room after bowing slightly to Ichiro, who remained seated but offered a small bow in return. Her dark hair was long, unbound, and streaked with more grey than Ichiro’s. She wore a silver sash around her waist, clasped with a dull silver disk, in the shape of some kind of flower.
“Master Starwind,” the woman said in greeting.
He looked surprised for a fraction of a second but then cleared his throat and said, “Kira, this is Nari Hyacinth, Mistress of Gekkō-ji. Together we run the temple—I with its interior administration, and Mistress Nari with its exterior uses.”
Mistress Nari slid the door shut and swept into the room. The long green fabric of her pants whispered across the floor as she came to stand by the table. “I apologize for the interruption, but I thought it important we find out what this girl was doing in the Starless Realm before accepting her into the temple.”
Ichiro put down his tea cup and looked at Kira, his eyes fixed on hers. She felt trapped in his gaze.
The Starless Realm? Did she mean the real world, where Kira was from? We have stars, she thought dazedly.
“Starless?” was all she could say.
Ichiro rose, and the paper on the table sprang back into a tight scroll. Kira clenched her fingers together in her lap to keep them from shaking.
What would they do to her now? Thoughts of Anzu swinging a massive bladed weapon in her direction had her frozen on the spot.
She had been stupid to think she could blend into this completely strange realm with its knights and magic—but then again, she had seen the magic in North Noxbury, too. She had seen both Light and Shadow there. She knew that much.
Mistress Nari and Ichiro had been having a hushed conversation above her, which she hadn’t noticed until they stopped. The room was so quiet, Kira could hear the murmur of soft voices from somewhere down the hallway.
“Kira?” Ichiro looked down at her, one bushy eyebrow raised.
