by Sarah Ash
“Sa-ka-mi,” she repeated. “My name is Sakami?”
Kai felt crushed. She doesn’t even remember her own name. He moved to go to her but Inari put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Not yet,” she whispered. “You made a promise to me, Kaito. You’ve a long journey ahead of you. As have I.” Inari let go of him and glided across the glade to Sakami’s side.
“The sun is rising.” She stroked Sakami’s cheek and Sakami rubbed her face affectionately against her hand. “I can’t stay here any longer; the mountain is my winter retreat when the rice fields lie dormant under the snow. But now the grains are swelling, I need to keep watch over the growing crop on the plain to make sure that we have a good harvest. Honou, I want you to show Sakami how to adapt to her new life as a kitsune. When you judge she’s ready, you will both go to help the elder fox spirits protect my shrine in the castle. I sensed Kurika’s presence close by a short while ago. He’s gone for now…but he may be back. And he bears me a grudge.”
“The castle?” Honou repeated, pulling a face. “I like it better up here.”
Kai could bear it no longer. He stumbled over toward Sakami and saw her glance up, her eyes startled, wary; the reaction of a wild creature taken by surprise.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, hearing his voice tremble. “I don’t mean you any harm, Sakami.”
She stared at him, her expression still wary. “I – know you.”
“He’s Lord Kaito, the young master of these lands,” said Honou, not without malice.
“Lord Kaito.” Sakami was still staring at him. He wanted so much to put his arms round her and hold her. Perhaps the touch of his hands, the familiar smell of his body, would remind her? But he felt Inari’s restraining hand on his shoulder once more.
“She’s not ready yet,” Inari said. “I told you; she may never be ‘your’ Sakami again. I brought her back to life… but now she has to learn how to live as a kitsune.”
Before Kai’s astonished eyes, the goddess passed her hands over Sakami and Honou and their human forms dwindled, transforming into a pair of sleek, moon-white foxes.
“You make a handsome pair,” Inari said fondly, “but for now you’ll have to hide your true celestial colors.” She passed her hands over them a second time and a wash of color rippled through their pale fur, transforming it to a rich, russet glow. “Now go; you have work to do!”
“Wait!” Kai cried, starting up. But the two bounded away into the undergrowth, heading for the path that wound down the mountain toward the castle. “Lady Inari – ” But when he turned back, the goddess had also gone, leaving him alone, with too many questions unanswered and an aching heart.
Chapter 37
“It’s a steep climb over the mountain, and you’ve taken quite a beating. Are you sure you’re up to this, Yū?”
Yūgiri flashed Masao an indignant look. “I told you before; we’re stronger than we look, we Hisui shamans. If anyone’s in poor shape here, it’s you.”
“Nothing that a drop of sake won’t put right.” Masao didn’t want to admit it, but Yūgiri was right: a dull, nagging ache had invaded every bone and muscle in his body. He unstoppered Lord Toshiro’s flask and took a mouthful. The clean burn of the rice wine took the edge off the ache and cleared some of the fog from his brain.
He was about to hand the flask to Yūgiri when he thought he caught a flicker of fire further up the mountain. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had imagined it. But Yūgiri had stopped, drawing in his breath between his teeth sharply, as if he was in pain.
“Yū?” His own weariness forgotten, Masao went to him, alarmed to see him doubled up. “Yū, what’s wrong?”
“Didn’t – you feel it?” Yūgiri managed to gasp out. “That lethal bolt of flame? I’ve never sensed anything so deadly before.”
Masao put one arm around Yūgiri’s shoulders, steadying him against him. He’d do everything he could to protect Yūgiri from Crane shinobi but he knew he was no match for a fire dragon. If the mountain kami was on the attack, they didn’t stand a chance. “Is it Kurika?”
“This felt…different. More akin to – ” Yūgiri broke off. “No. It can’t be.”
“Akin to what?”
“The Kite Shadow.”
And then a soft radiance began to bloom in the darkness above them, as if a translucent flower were slowly opening its petals, and shedding a pure, healing light over the mountain peak. They both gazed, dumbstruck.
“Whatever can be happening up there?”
***
Kai started to retrieve the scattered drawers and replace them in Master Seishi’s medicine chest. Wisps of dawn mist were rising from the ground as the first light spilled through the branches overhead. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he asked himself why he was wasting time on such a trivial matter. But I owe it to Seishi sensei to make sure I return it in good order; I can’t go back to the monastery without it. Somehow it was easier to focus on this mechanical task than to try to begin to acknowledge that his life – and Sakami’s – had changed forever.
She looked at me as if I were a stranger. Just remembering the blank stare she had given him filled him with anguish. He couldn’t see how he was supposed to go on without her. Suppose she’s even forgotten that evening we made love in the tower? He pushed the painful thoughts away. I haven’t time to think about this now; I have to go after Naoki.
“Lord Kaito?”
He started, knocking over the chest. Turning around, he saw that two men were watching him from the overgrown path. Too late he fumbled for the knife he had brought to defend himself.
“We mean you no harm, my lord.”
Kai recognized the tall, broad-shouldered young Kite shinobi who had brought him the Tide Jewels. But the man beside him was a stranger; at first Kai wondered if he was even flesh and blood. In the dim, mist-wreathed light he looked not unlike one of Inari’s attendant fox spirits; his long hair was white as thistledown and his pale eyes glimmered like twilight stars.
“Takanaga no Masao.” Kai straightened up. “What do you want with me?”
“Did Lord Naoki come this way?”
Kai could not stop himself from flinching at Naoki’s name. That murderer. How could I ever have thought we’d become friends? “Yes,” he said, trying to suppress the bitter anger that had flared up inside him. “Yes, he was here. He attacked me and my servant and took the Tide Jewels from us.”
Masao and his companion exchanged a look. As the first rays of sun filtered through the rising mists, Kai saw the purple stains of bruising marring their faces. He wondered how they had come to be so badly beaten.
“Lord Kaito,” said the white-haired young man; though softly spoken, he radiated an aura of calm authority, “my name is Hisui no Yūgiri and I am a shaman healer. May I ask: how exactly did Lord Naoki attack you?”
Kai drew in an unsteady breath. He didn’t want to have to relive that moment.
“It was like…fiery feathers. They came from his fingertips, just as if he was aiming a handful of throwing knives.”
“Flame Feathers?” Masao said hoarsely, exchanging another look with Yūgiri. “But that’s just a legend of our clan. No one has ever managed to master it since Lord Takadai…”
“Was this a shrine to Inari, my lord?” The shaman had been gazing around him as the dawn light revealed the lichen-covered guardian fox statues and the tumbled, charred stones. “How did it burn down?”
“Seven years ago,” Kai said, “shinobi from your clan set fire to this village and destroyed it. Or that’s what we were told.”
“Seven years ago,” Masao said, “a Crane shinobi set fire to our castle. Or that’s what he confessed to Naoki.”
There was a moment’s tense silence as they stared at each other.
“We were led to believe that Red Kites destroyed the village,” Kai said. “But now I know that Inari’s shrine was prison to a powerful fire kami, Kurika. And one night a powerful onmyōji broke his bonds and set him free. Kurika took revenge o
n Inari by burning her shrine…and the villagers who served her. Then he went on the rampage…”
“Kurika,” echoed Masao.
“You’d better tell Lord Kaito,” said Yūgiri softly.
Masao cleared his throat. “I – ” He seemed unwilling to continue. “I helped Naoki steal the Tide Jewels. I’m not proud of what I did. But I was controlled by a powerful charm; a malicious piece of onmyōdō magic. Yūgiri broke the spell and restored my memories. And he discovered that Naoki and I were acting on the secret orders of the emperor’s younger brother.”
“Prince Hotaru?” Kai remembered the mildly-spoken, bespectacled prince who had visited the monastery to investigate the theft. It hardly seemed possible. But then neither did Naoki’s sudden acquisition of a lethal fire jutsu.
“He’s a powerful onmyōji,” said Masao. “I don’t know what he’s is planning that involves the Tide Jewels, but I fear that it’s treasonable – ”
“The Festival. He must be planning to disrupt the Festival.” Kai began to foresee all manner of terrible possibilities. “I have to get there first and stop him.” And then he realized how pathetic those words must sound issuing from the mouth of a lame man on the upper slopes of a mountain far from the Tide Dragon temple.
“With a fair wind, it might be possible to reach the temple by sunset tomorrow,” said Masao.
“If we had a boat,” said Yūgiri.
“Damn it all.” Masao sank down on one of the blackened shrine stones and put his head in his hands; it looked to Kai as if the last of his energy had seeped away. The shaman knelt beside him and put one hand on his knee. That mute gesture of sympathy told Kai more about their relationship than mere words could have done.
“This is hallowed ground,” Yūgiri said. “Lady Inari was here, wasn’t she?”
“You saw her?” Kai gazed into the strange, pale eyes and felt a faint jolt as if the shaman were looking deep into his soul.
“We saw the light from further down the mountain.”
Masao raised his head. “I’m going after Naoki. He’s out of control. I don’t know what he’s planning to do with the Tide Jewels but he has to be stopped.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Yūgiri. “I don’t know if I can break the onmyōji’s spell that’s poisoning his mind, but I have to try.”
Kai stared at them both, wanting to trust them – longing to have someone, anyone, he could trust – yet still bitterly aware that they were Red Kites and his sworn enemies. “Stop him? But how?”
“He’s been using his life-force to generate forbidden Shadow skills,” said the shaman. “Sooner or later, he’ll deplete his natural resources and collapse from exhaustion.”
“And if there’s no one around with the gift to heal him,” Masao added, “he’ll be weak and unable to defend himself.”
“So if we can waylay him, I’ll do what I can to cleanse the poison from his mind.”
“But he’s dangerous,” said Kai. There was something about young shaman’s quiet air of confidence that reminded him of Master Seishi. “Suppose he can still use the fire jutsu ?” He didn’t want anyone else to be killed by Naoki.
Masao shrugged. There was something about the grim, determined set of his bruised features that told Kai he no longer cared what became of him, as long as he could stop his young lord from committing any more atrocities. And if there was the slightest chance they could work together, Kai knew he had to take it.
“Lord Masao,” he said, “Lady Inari told me I must find a way to return the Tide Jewels to the sea. It’s the only way to break the imperial family’s hold over the Tide Dragons. So that’s what I intend to do.”
“Destroy the sacred jewels?” said Masao, frowning. “Even though your clan was chosen by the emperor to protect them? Isn’t that treason?”
“And why does the goddess want the Tide Dragons set free?” added Yūgiri.
“I don’t know for sure,” Kai said. “But I made her a promise. A promise I have to keep.”
“My lord,” Masao said to Kai, “can you show us the quickest way down the mountain?”
“I can.” Kai felt a faint flame of hope begin to flicker into life.
Masao stood up. “Then let’s go.”
“But I’m lame; I’ll only slow you down.”
Masao exchanged another look with Yūgiri.
“I can’t heal you, my lord,” said the shaman, “but I can ease the stiffness in your leg.”
Kai hesitated. “Very well,” he said warily, and as soon as the words were spoken Yūgiri was helping him to sit down on one of the tumbled shrine stones. The shaman knelt in the grass beside him and placed both hands on Kai’s twisted leg, gently touching and testing.
“The muscles are knotted here,” he said, “and here at the base of your spine.”
Kai winced as Yūgiri pressed a sensitive spot and a jagged bolt of pain shot through his leg. Suppose he’s doing more harm than good? Yet the next moment he felt a sensation of soothing warmth seeping through his body, as if a glow of heat were emanating from the shaman’s hands, and he began to relax. Yūgiri looked up and Kai thought he caught a brief glimmer of gold coloring his pale eyes.
“See if you can stand, my lord.”
Kai got to his feet. He felt lighter, straighter than before. “That’s amazing,” he said, walking a few steps, not quite believing how much easier it was to move. “I wish I’d met you years ago, Yūgiri-sensei. Is there any way I could persuade you to join my clan?”
The shaman bowed his head. “I’m honored by your offer, my lord, but I will never leave Lord Masao’s side.”
Masao glanced up at the mention of his name. “Time to get on the road,” he said brusquely, but not before Kai saw that he had gone red.
***
The water in the rice fields glistened as the dawn light flowed across the plain like a pale golden wave.
The morning mists melted away, revealing the monastery in the far distance. Yet the closer Naoki sped, fleet feet scarcely even stirring the feathery tops of the green rice plants, the more aware he became that he had not yet thought out a way to deliver the jewels to the prince. His face was well known in the monastery. If one of the monks – or, worse still, Kakumyo – were to recognize him, everything would be over, and he would lose the prince’s protection forever. In fact, he was certain that if he failed to deliver the jewels, Prince Hotaru would not hesitate to order Kurika to destroy him – if Kakumyo didn’t execute him first.
But if I succeed… He sped on, forcing his body to move faster, eager to reach his protector and earn his reward.
***
Without Sakami to guide him, it took Kai a while to rediscover the overgrown path that meandered over the far side of the mountain and down toward the plain. The mists had dispersed and there was a still, humid feel to the early morning as if the heat were already building up. Insects buzzed over their heads; flies and wasps swarmed around the ripe cherries and plums hanging unpicked on the neglected fruit trees and shimmering dragonflies skittered past, riding the up-draughts.
“At least we won’t go hungry,” Masao said as they helped themselves to the fruit. Kai shared out some of the rice balls Sakami had packed for their journey. He remembered her smiling at him as she wrapped them in mulberry leaves to keep them fresh and placed them in his backpack. Sakami… Suddenly the rice ball seemed to turn to dry ash in his mouth; he could hardly swallow the mouthful he had been chewing.
“Are you all right, my lord?” The shaman was looking at him, concern clouding his pale eyes.
“Just tired,” Kai lied. “I had very little sleep.” He set the half-eaten rice ball aside. “You go on ahead; I’ll follow.” I need time to be alone. Time to grieve for her.
He saw them consult one another with a glance.
“As you wish, Lord Kaito,” said Masao, getting up; he offered his hand to Yūgiri and pulled him to his feet. “Take care on your journey.”
As the two men disappeared from sight into
the trees, Kai picked up the medicine chest and slid his arms through the straps, balancing the weight on his back. He wondered where Honou had taken Sakami to watch over her while she recovered; were they nestled close together in a sunny mountain glade, sleeping the day away…or deep below ground in a cool fox den?
“Don’t forget me, Sakami,” he said aloud to the empty mountainside. “I’m coming back for you. Don’t let Honou seduce you. Don’t think of staying in the world of the kitsune. Remember me. Remember that I love you.”
But the only reply was the chirring of the cicadas and the lazy buzz of wild bees going in and out of a hidden nest in a nearby hollow tree.
***
It was almost a day’s journey by ox cart from the capital to the Tide Dragons shrine, so it had become a tradition for the imperial court to take over the guest quarters in the monastery before the festival. The retainers and the Imperial Guard set up a temporary camp outside the monastery walls and, as a gesture of goodwill to the local farmers and villagers, the emperor always ordered his staff to provide free food on the day of the festival.
By the time Ayaka’s family’s ox cart was trundling across the rice fields toward the monastery, the tents had already been erected, and brightly colored flags were fluttering in the strong breeze, dominated by the purple imperial standards.
“I can see the sea!” Ayaka cried excitedly, forgetting that she was sixteen and engaged to be married. “It’s so blue – ”
“For heaven’s sake sit down and stop rocking the cart, Ayaka,” ordered her mother. “There are peasants out there working in the fields; it’s not done for a young woman of the nobility to show her face in public.”
“But it’s such a beautiful day.” Ayaka could not resist raising the blind and popping her head out of the window for a better view.
“Put that blind down straight away.” Princess Omiya covered her face with her open fan. “The strong sun will ruin our complexions.”
“Ayaka, do as your mother says.” Her father, who had been dozing, opened one eye.
“Lady!” A little girl helping in the fields had spotted Ayaka. A moment later she came running up, carrying a handful of flowers. “For you, pretty lady,” she called out.
