"The only way you will return to the land of the Phoenix," the Kuni said, "is as a ghost." Her eyes gleamed darkly behind her broken mask.
"So be it," Tadaka replied. The vigor of the earth filled his limbs once more. Dropping his sword into an attack position, he charged.
He cut high, but the Kuni parried. She swept low with the spear, but Tadaka leapt over it. He kicked her in the midsection, and she staggered back. He spun and sliced at her neck.
The witch hunter twirled her long forked spear and batted Tadaka's blade aside. She swept up and across his chest, cutting the billowing folds of his dirty red kimono.
The sky grew dark with clouds. Thunder echoed in the distance.
Tadaka danced back out of the way of her follow-up thrust. He spun to his right and sliced at her midsection. She turned, but not in time. Tadaka's blade traced a long line across her ribs, just above her left hip.
She gasped and swung hard at him. He parried her blade with his katana, but the force of the blow tore the sword from his hand. It flew through the air and clattered on the dry, tainted ground. Its blade sparked where it hit.
The Master of Earth jumped aside as she slashed at him once more. He drew his wakizashi and angled toward his lost sword, trying to regain it. The Kuni bore in, jabbing at his middle. Tadaka batted the spear aside with his smaller sword.
Suddenly, the Kuni stopped. She held her spear in her left hand and reached into her sleeve with her right. Her hand came out holding a jade dart, shaped like a long, thin triangle.
Tadaka scuttled back, across the cracked earth, keeping his eye on the witch hunter. As she threw, he swatted the dart out of the air. He didn't see the second one concealed in her palm.
It followed close behind its brother. It caught Tadaka in the arm, just below his left elbow. Tadaka gasped; the wound burned with fire. The witch hunter charged forward, her spear ready for the kill.
Ignoring the pain, Tadaka transferred his wakizashi into his left hand and rolled to his right. He swept up the katana with his right hand as she came in on him. Gaining his feet, he caught the blades of her spear between his two swords.
The Kuni thrust at him, but he forced the spear up, over his head. Releasing it, he whirled his blades, batting the spear's shaft with his left and chopping with his right. Splinters flew where katana met shaft, but the spear did not sunder. Instead, the witch hunter pulled back, making short jabs to keep him on his guard.
Tadaka's left arm began to go numb from pain and the dart's arcane fire. The witch hunter pressed in; he batted her blades aside as she came, first with one sword, and then the other. She seemed tireless, determination incarnate, death made flesh. Though her breathing came heavily, the pale brow behind her broken mask showed only a faint sheen of sweat.
Despite the renewal the earth and fresh water gave him, Tadaka's strength waned once more. He'd been too long without sleep, too long without nourishment. He knew he wouldn't be able to sustain his two-sword attack for much longer. His left arm ached from its wound; the dart seemed to burrow ever deeper into his flesh.
In desperation, he flung his wakizashi at the Kuni. The move caught the witch hunter completely by surprise. The short blade spun through the air, and sliced into the hunter's left shoulder. The Kuni gasped and nearly dropped her long spear.
Tadaka scrambled back, shifting his katana to his left hand. He deftly plucked the fiery dart out of his arm and threw it to the blackened earth. As the Kuni brought her forked spear up once more, he resumed a two-handed defensive stance.
"Now, it ends," she said, her voice ragged with determination. She charged. The forked spear thrust; Tadaka's sword flashed. The weapons met—the katana's blade caught between the forks of the spear.
The two foes stared at each other across the weapons, each trying to force the other back. Tadaka's muscles knotted. Sweat finally poured down the Kuni's brow. Blood stained their kimonos. They circled, caught in a macabre dance.
Overhead, the storm broke. Lightning flashed and thunder shook the hills. Rain poured down around them in great cascades. Still the samurai held.
They shifted back and forth on the edge of the Shadowlands. Spongy earth replaced hard rock beneath their sandals. Fire spread down Tadaka's wounded arm and through his body. The Kuni gasped with exertion.
They struggled, pushing each other across the rocky hills. Tadaka glimpsed the pure stones of the foothills. Close enough, he hoped, to provide his salvation.
In the midst of pain and effort, clarity came. He let his body fight the battle while his mind wandered free. He felt the earth within his soul and called out to it. Beneath his feet, the land shuddered.
The Master of Earth sprang back as a huge circle of black boulders sprouted up in front of him. The witch hunter tried to jump away, but her spear shattered on a giant green-veined stone. The rocks hemmed her in, pressed around her, squeezed her breath out. They towered above her head as the Kuni clawed at the sky. The witch hunter screamed.
With horror, Tadaka realized what had happened.
He had called out to the earth, and it had responded. But it was not the pure stone of the hills that had answered his call—it was the tainted rock of the Shadowlands.
"No!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "lie!" The thunder echoed his words. Tadaka poured forth every remaining trace of his power, and the black stones crumbled. The Kuni witch hunter fell prostrate to the earth. Rain washed her blood away in small crimson rivulets.
Tadaka sheathed his sword and rushed to her side.
"I'm sorry," he said. The rain made it seem as if his whole body wept.
"We are not... finished ... yet____" the Kuni said weakly. She
tried to raise her hand, but it fell limply into the mud. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her body went slack.
"She looks in real bad shape," Ob said, appearing near Tadaka's ear.
"It's my fault," said Tadaka. "I should have known when she attacked me. I should have seen." He reached beneath his kimono and pulled the jade amulet from around his neck.
"Should have seen what?" the mujina asked.
Tadaka looked at the blackened talisman and shook his head. "Not now," he said. He let the amulet drop. It fell to the rain-damp earth and shattered into a thousand ebony shards.
"You going to finish her off?" Ob asked. "You know she'll come after you if you don't."
Tadaka's hand stole unconsciously to the hilt of his sword. He felt its weight on his hip, balanced by the scroll case on the other side of his belt. He should kill her. She was a threat to his mission. If she recovered, she would dog him all the way back to Phoenix lands.
His resolve firmed. The fire she'd inflicted on his left arm burned. He tightened his grip on his katana. The blank eyes of the Kuni's broken mask stared up at him accusingly. Blood leaked from beneath the mask and ran down her chin.
Tadaka let go of the sword.
"No," he said. "I won't kill her. I don't have the right." Unconsciously, his hand stole to the scroll case, still hanging at his hip. "We must get her to shelter."
Ob shrugged. "Sorry I can't help," he said. "But I'll scout ahead for a dry place to put her." He flitted off into the rain. Lightning illumined his small, red body as he darted into the rocks. Then Tadaka saw him no more.
The Master of Earth retrieved his wakizashi from where it lay in the cracked soil. He flicked the mud and blood off the blade and resheathed it. Then he turned to the witch hunter.
She was still unconscious. Her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. With her spear shattered, there was not enough wood in the area to make a litter; he would have to carry her. Removing her obi from her waist, he used it to bind her hands tightly—lest she should wake and attack him again.
He tried to summon the power of the earth to bolster his strength—but when the black soil responded he cried, "No!" and let the magic slip away.
He walked to the pure rocks of the hills, selected a tall stone, and pressed his face and hands against its wet surface
. "Please," he whispered, the rain streaming down his face, "help me!"
The Master of Earth felt something within the rock shudder. He wasn't completely tainted yet; he still possessed the power. He concentrated, but it was not enough. The power slipped away, like sand between his fingers.
Shuddering with cold and exhaustion, soaked to the skin by rain, he returned to the Kuni and hefted her over his broad shoulders. It felt as though he carried the weight of the world.
Staggering under the burden, he made his way back toward the defile.
Ob flitted out of the crevasse to meet him. "I found a dry place under a big overhang. It's not too far from the stream."
"And not far from here, I hope," Tadaka said wearily.
"Not even two hills over," Ob replied, smiling.
The trek up the streambed seemed twice as long going up as it had going down. Soon, though, they came to the place Ob had discovered. Tadaka laid the witch hunter's unconscious form on the dry soil. He took a handful of jade-tipped arrows from his quiver, broke the shafts, and made a fire. Ob found some dry moss to keep the flames smoldering.
"What now?" the Mujina asked.
"I need to rest awhile," Tadaka said. "Then we go on. I need food, too—as soon as we can find it. At least I don't need water." He thrust his hand out from under the overhang and caught some rain. Putting the hand to his lips, he drank.
"I bet she has some food," Ob said.
The Master of Earth's brow furrowed. Certainly the Mujina was right. Witch hunters always brought fresh food and water when they went on patrol.
"After all," Ob said, "you gave her some of your food last time. It's only right that she give you some back."
Tadaka nodded. Gently searching her, he found the pouches that contained her provisions. He left her water, but took most of the food. "She'll need to go home and recover anyway," he said, as much to himself as to the mujina.
He ate. Then he tore strips from his kimono and tended her wounds.
"You sure you want her to live?" Ob asked.
Tadaka nodded. "I'm sure." He dressed her injuries as best he could. After that, he dressed his own. Then he closed his eyes and drifted into a troubled sleep.
He awoke to find the late-morning sun shining on his face. The witch hunter still lay unconscious, though she groaned frequently, and some color had returned to her face.
Better rested, Tadaka tried to summon the power of the pure earth. This time, it responded, though slowly. Strength flowed back into Tadaka's battered body.
Drawing the last of his pure stones from the pockets in his sleeves, he placed them in a ring around the shelter where the witch hunter lay sleeping.
"What you doing?" Ob asked. He flitted down and hovered just behind the shugenja's shoulder.
"Making sure she'll be safe until she regains her senses," Tadaka replied.
"An awful lot of trouble for someone who tried to kill you," the mujina said.
"It's the least I can do," Tadaka said. Kneeling by the witch hunter's body, he undid her bonds. Her eyes flickered open slightly at his touch.
"Kill... you ...!" she gasped.
He shook his head. "Not today. My mission is not yet complete." He reached into his robe and drew out a jade arrowhead—the same one he'd used in Junzo's fortress.
The green stone burned his hand, but he clutched it tightly in his fist while muttering an incantation. When he'd finished, he opened his hand and laid the arrowhead in the witch hunter's palm. "When my task is done," he said, "this stone will lead you to me."
The Kuni nodded her head weakly.
Tadaka rose, ducked out from under the overhang, and turned away. "C'mon, Ob," he said. "It's time to go home."
the elements convene
Isawa Kaede mounted the last stairs and stepped onto the broad wooden engawa surrounding the council chamber. Cold winter rain poured through the garden's open roof, splashing gently into the circular River of Awakening. The lotus flowers had closed their blossoms against the chill—though they still lived, a testament to the garden's power.
Kaede walked around the covered walkway to the far side of the engawa and sat down opposite the entrance. There was no council meeting today—there would be none until Tadaka returned. Yet Kaede felt the need to be in this place, to drink in its serenity.
Her breath hung in the air like a small white cloud. She pulled her thick kimono tightly against her body to ward off the cold. Her bones still ached from her journey home.
Ishikawa had come with her. He had been her strength after her disastrous encounter with the emperor. They had left the castle
before dawn. Ishikawa's position allowed him to secure safe passage for them both. He didn't tell anyone that the woman traveling with him was Isawa Kaede—though they'd left a polite message for the empress.
The next day, the two of them hooked up with a caravan of Phoenix merchants, and the group had traveled through the Yama no Kuyami—the Mountains of Regret—back to the Phoenix homeland. They encountered no resistance along the way, though Kaede had nightmares every time she slept.
The Mistress of the Void shuddered when she thought of her final encounter with Hantei. Even with all her wisdom, she did not fully understand what had happened. The boy was beyond her power to heal, and this saddened her heart.
Something about him chilled the Mistress of the Void to her bones. There was an emptiness within his soul—not the serene placidity of the Void, but something else ... a darkness waiting to be filled. But waiting for what? For the fever to break? For the sky to fall? For the cold embrace of death? Kaede did not know.
She didn't know whether to fear Kachiko's custody of the boy or fear for her safety. Kaede pushed the thoughts aside. The Mother of Scorpions could take care of herself.
Kaede closed her eyes and swept her mind clear. She concentrated on the rain falling in the council garden. The gentle sound washed away her apprehension. Soon, the tranquillity of the Void filled her.
A sound from the hatchway in the floor caught her attention. Her brother Tomo's shaved head appeared.
"He's coming!" the Master of Water said excitedly. "Tadaka's coming home."
Kaede stood. She reached out with her mind but still did not feel Tadaka's presence. "How do you know?"
"He's been seen on the road," Tomo said, "not far from the castle." He ducked his head back down the hatchway.
Kaede lifted the skirts of her kimono, walked to the exit, and descended. She pulled the hatch shut behind her.
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The horse Tadaka rode to Kyuden Isawa looked almost as ragged as he did. It was a mangy gray beast, with a shaggy mane and ill-kept tail. The rain turned the animal the color of sludge. It plodded through the downpour without enthusiasm.
The Master of Earth sat astride the beast, his red and black kimono caked with mud. A new straw hat covered his head—it was the best looking thing about him. Even from a tower window, Kaede could see that Tadaka looked tired. She pulled on her sandals and hurried down to meet him.
She found the other Elemental Masters already waiting. Tsuke wore a wide straw hat, like Tadaka's. Uona carried a parasol. Kaede wished she'd thought to bring one. She said nothing as she joined the others at the foot of the castle's broad steps. Tomo stood without any protection at all, enjoying the cold patter of the rain on his shaved head.
Stable hands rushed out to take the animal as Tadaka pulled his horse to a halt. He dismounted, and the servants led the haggard steed away.
Tadaka did not look merely tired, but exhausted. His fine silk clothes hung in tatters from his skeletal frame. His straw sandals were dirty and almost worn through. Only the black hood covering Tadaka's features remained relatively unscathed.
Though he looked like death, powerful green fires still burned in Tadaka's eyes.
Kaede suppressed a shudder. She stepped forward and smiled. "Welcome home, Brother."
Tadaka looked at her and said simply, "Home."
"We've been waitin
g for you," Tsuke said, his deep voice rumbling like thunder.
"Do you wish to rest, first," Uona asked, "or shall we convene the council immediately?"
"Rest," Tadaka said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Not long, though. We haven't much time." He put his foot forward, but nearly stumbled over the first low step.
Tomo went forward to support his half-brother. As he caught him under the right arm, his elbow brushed against the charred scroll case that hung at Tadaka's waist. Tomo shivered. "What's this?" he asked, indicating the scroll.
"A Black Scroll," Tadaka said. "I stole it from Junzo."
The four gasped collectively. Kaede stepped forward to support her brother's other arm. Together, they helped Tadaka up the steps and through the gate of Kyuden Isawa. They took the Master of Earth to his room, where he collapsed like one dead. They left Tadaka to sleep.
Tsuke's eyes lingered on the scroll case. "Perhaps we should study it while he sleeps," he said to Uona.
"Plenty of time for that," she replied. "I doubt we'll learn anything new from it. Besides, it's his prize."
Tomo and Kaede glanced warily at each other.
Tsuke smiled in grim satisfaction.
A faraway look danced in Uona's eyes.
Tomo reached out his thin hand and slid the fusuma door to Tadaka's room shut. "He'll call us when he's ready."
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The five Elemental Masters sat in a circle on their wooden platforms in the council garden. The bowls of their elements lay before them, and the River of Awakening roiled in its endless circle at their backs. Overhead, the magic of the council turned aside the rain.
Tadaka had woken shortly before sunset. He took his Black Scroll to the vault deep within the Isawa library and sealed it there alongside the other three. Then he summoned the other Elemental Masters to the high tower.
He donned new clothes and looked almost his old self. No one in the chamber could guess the taint hidden by the fine silks of his kimono and hood. After performing the proper rituals, Tadaka inhaled deeply and told the others of his journey.
L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix Page 20
