Securing a hold, Moon swung himself up and into the maple. The young tree swayed. He turned, bracing his legs in a slim fork, eyes sweeping to the base of the trunk. His pursuer gazed keenly back up at him. 'Snowhawk . . .?' he called without looking.
'I'm clear,' she shouted from her tree. 'But we're not going anywhere, are we?'
'This is crazy. It's . . . just a dog,' Moonshadow said. Who was he kidding? It was no ordinary dog. The Akita Matagi circled the tree, panting but determined. It looked up at him with icy blue eyes as it skipped sideways into a hunch, as if expecting him to leap down that way and make a run for it. Its unblinking stare was cold, ferocious, yet shone with intelligence. The animal's thick coat failed to hide its great muscularity.
Moon licked dry lips and studied his new nemesis. This beast had big, thickly clawed feet but narrow hips. It was built for speed, power and agility.
He had heard that these dogs wrestled bears to the ground on command. His eyes flicked uphill. Were there more of them? Or was somebody watching, ready to give this animal orders? Such possibilities meant that wounding the dog might be a bad idea. He sneered. Besides, how could he hurl shurikens at such a magnificent creature? The very idea felt cowardly. But they had to get on with the mission. He ran a hand over his pack.
That was it! The main ingredient of shinobi blinding powder was pepper. If he could explode a blinding bomb under that Akita Matagi's snout, it would flee in wild irritation – like any dog – but recover unharmed. Preferably elsewhere, he thought with a grin.
Moonshadow unshouldered the pack and dug out his tiny box of pepper bombs.
'That's a good idea,' Snowhawk called from her tree. 'Just don't get its eyes.'
'Don't worry.' He raised a small, pepper-stuffed bird's egg in one hand. 'I want it to be able to see its way home as it runs off – sneezing!'
The bear hunting dog stared up at the black-painted sphere in his grasp. Without a sound, it peeled back its lips and showed Moon a gleaming set of fangs. He faked a throw to see if it would flinch. The dog didn't move. Moonshadow prepared to hurl the blinding bomb for the spot between its big front paws. But once the loaded egg left his hand, the Akita Matagi scuttled backwards, turned fast and ran to the foot of Snowhawk's tree.
The egg tore and crumpled on the forest floor. A small puff of red dust escaped it. The big animal watched Moonshadow impassively, avoiding the bombed area as it trotted back to the foot of his tree. It glanced at the ruined egg, then up at him attentively.
'You're pretty smart,' Moonshadow told his adversary. 'I'd better make you run before you whip out an axe and really surprise me.' With a fast whip-cracking motion he threw a second pepper bomb. This time the dog bolted forward with astounding acceleration. The bomb puffed at nothing two paces behind its flicking tail. The Akita Matagi trotted to the base of Snowhawk's tree, waiting for the pepper cloud to disperse.
'I have only one more,' Moonshadow grumbled. 'What happens if I miss?'
'Don't know,' Snowhawk said wearily. 'Don't miss!'
He lurched forward in the fork, made a misleading feint with his hand, then tossed the last bomb hard, aiming where he thought the dog would go as it took evasive action. But the animal simply held its ground, turning its large head mildly to watch the pepper bomb fly past. Once the egg struck the ground, the dog calmly padded the opposite way.
'Damn you!' Moonshadow pointed at it. 'At least you can't get us up here!'
The Akita Matagi tilted its head, eyes moving between its two perched targets. It spun on the spot and then broke into a charge, straight for Snowhawk's tree. As it closed with the trunk, it reared up on its hind legs and planted both paws hard against the bark.
With an unsettling creak, the young tree lurched. Snowhawk scrambled and braced herself in its branches. The dog dropped back onto all fours then turned and galloped for Moonshadow's tree. It reared up and struck it in exactly the same way, shaking its branches hard. Then, taking a few steps backwards, the beast turned its great head left and right, eerie blue eyes flicking between the occupied trees. It grinned and panted, wagged its long tail, then ran at Snowhawk's tree again. It liked this game.
'Now what?' Snowhawk huffed as her perch was shaken. 'We just dangle here? Until our teeth come loose and our enemies catch up?'
'No,' Moonshadow said decisively. 'There is another way.' He caught his breath as he wondered at his own stupidity. He could link his mind to that of any complex animal. Thrown off balance by the Akita Matagi's abrupt and sustained attack, the most obvious solution had escaped him. Link with it, control it, then – his eyes lit up as a plan came to him – send the creature downhill with orders to attack any shinobi it found.
He filled his chest proudly. A masterful strategy. Using one problem to fix another. Eagle and Mantis were going to be impressed. They'd call it clever, elegant.
'Watch this.' Moon signalled Snowhawk. 'It will roll on its back, any moment . . .'
He locked gazes with the dog. It narrowed its eyes back at him. Moonshadow concentrated, waiting for the tremors in his hands that told him a link was being forged.
The dog's head flew back, muzzle creasing, eyes rolling upwards. Its nose twitched violently. Moon peered with knitted eyebrows. An unusually strong reaction!
'There,' Moonshadow said, but he knew at once that something was wrong.
With a splutter the beast threw its huge head forward. It hunched, muscles in spasm, sneezing hard. A clod of green mucus landed between its paws. Snorting, the dog shook its ears, saliva flicking from its jowls. It sneezed again.
'And that's the legendary Eye of the Beast.' Snowhawk clapped. 'What an amazing science. The power to make an animal catch a cold. Aw, will you teach me?'
'Shut up,' he snapped. 'How can it be immune? Something's not right here.'
'Something? We're being held hostage in trees by a magical dog and all kinds of murderous foes are trailing us. Oh, and it looks like we're going to fail our mission too,' Snowhawk's voice rose into a growl as she shook her tree angrily, 'and die for it!'
Moon blinked at her writhing face and pity snatched away all other feelings. He broke into a tender smile. 'We're GLO, remember? If we mess up, we get retrained. You're not Fuma any more. You can fail and live. And people are supposed to do both.'
'I hate being stuck!' She hung her head and thumped the nearest branch in frustration. Moonshadow nodded. He knew the real problem: she hated her own anger.
A shadow crossed his face. Moon looked up. A small falcon spiralled between the canopies, a dead mouse in its claws. It dropped the rodent into the crook of a nearby tree, then perched beside it, hunching low, closely eyeing its intended meal.
'Let's try that again,' Moonshadow muttered, staring at the falcon.
His hands trembled immediately. The bird snapped around to gaze back at him.
As if sensing trouble, the Akita Matagi slowly looked from Moon to the falcon.
Pushing straight to sight-control, the third level of the Eye of the Beast, Moonshadow willed the falcon to swoop the dog.
He closed his eyes and relaxed in the tree perch, taking in only what the bird saw. Through the usual shimmering water-like lens he watched the dog stiffen warily on the forest floor. Its image lurched to one side then another, quickly drawing closer as the falcon descended on it. He saw the dog skip backwards a few steps. It was intimidated.
Moonshadow opened one eye to check the Akita Matagi with his human sight.
It ducked and cowered, belly in the leaves, as the streak of feathered fury narrowly missed its head. Pursue and harrow, Moon mentally urged the falcon.
Snowhawk's relieved laughter raised his spirits. They exchanged encouraging looks and sat back to enjoy the show. The great dog broke into a run between the trees, weaving and tacking, glancing up every few strides to see where the falcon was.
The bird of prey whooshed past the dog's head, making it cringe, then soared into a tight vertical back-roll before descending in a power glide behind its fl
eeing target. The dog looked back and accelerated, cleverly ducking under low tree branches to shield its back and tail as it made its escape.
Powering into the distance, the beast quickly shrank into a small, erratically turning black figure, the pursuing falcon a tiny flying smudge above it. As they disappeared around the curve of the mountainside, Moon heard a sharp yelp. It echoed through the forest. Despite its size and strength, the Akita Matagi was starting to panic.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the falcon's vision. The bird relentlessly swooped the distressed dog, herding it downhill into the ruins. Moonshadow nodded to himself as the Akita Matagi ran through a glade of bamboo, then ducked behind a low, crumbling stone wall. Just its ears showed.
Moon released the falcon from his control and swung himself out of his perch. As he dropped to the ground, Snowhawk leapt down from her tree and ran to him.
'I can't afford to keep it up,' he told her, already feeling the drain to his life force. 'Any long level-three joining wears me out. For now, that dog's spooked. It's gone to ground, so we've bought ourselves some time. Enough, I hope, to throw it off our trail.'
Snowhawk immediately turned and started running uphill. 'Let's not waste it then!' She glanced back as he followed. 'We need to find streams and cross them, so it can't pick up our scent again!'
They dashed uphill through the scattered trees, the jagged rocky outcrops multiplying as they climbed higher. On the crest of a small ridge, Moonshadow's residual beast hearing detected running water. He stopped and signalled its direction to Snowhawk. She skipped along a low, uneven wall of dark granite, leaping rock to rock, eyes searching.
'Here!' Snowhawk shouted, pointing down. Moon caught up to her. A thin, bright stream bubbled downhill, cutting through the rocks in a series of little waterfalls. They drank greedily, soaked their aching feet in its icy melt water, then walked uphill in the stream as far as its surrounding rocks would allow them.
Moonshadow and Snowhawk staggered from the refreshing brook. Doggedly they paced up the mountainside until they came to the mouth of a narrow rocky gully. Its floor was flat, covered with a layer of dried leaves. Slanting granite horns rose each side of it.
'We could rest in there,' he ventured wearily. 'It's hard to spot from most angles.'
'I'm so tired.' She stumbled into the gully, sagging to the bed of leaves. 'We must rest.'
Moon nodded, flopping to the ground beside her. He groaned. He felt as wrung out as she looked and the temptation to steal a small nap felt awfully strong.
He forced himself to resist the idea. He had to stay at least half-awake.
Quiet minutes passed as they rested, the only sounds their laboured breathing and the occasional far-off bird call. Despite himself, Moonshadow began to nod off.
Until he felt Snowhawk grip his hand. Tightly.
'What is it?' He turned his head and looked at her.
'I don't believe this,' Snowhawk whispered. She motioned. 'Look. There.'
Moon rose up onto one elbow and followed her gaze. His heart skipped a beat.
The Akita Matagi stood blocking the mouth of the narrow gully, watching them.
The dog's chest heaved, but otherwise it appear ed to have come through its falcon encounter unscathed. Its head was low to the ground, big paws spread, back tensed in a ready stance. From what he'd already seen, if it charged, it could probably reach them before they escaped the gully . . . especially in their current depleted condition.
Moonshadow focused on the beast's icy blue eyes. He grabbed Snowhawk's arm. 'Look at that,' he muttered. 'I don't like the look of that.'
Lips peeling back, the dog showed its massive canine teeth. They were dripping.
'Know what you mean,' Snowhawk whispered. 'Those teeth are huge.'
'Not the teeth,' he said quickly. 'The eyes.' He sensed her look, felt her shudder.
The Akita Matagi's eyes were glowing, lit from within by some strange energy, their blue far brighter than before. The dog relaxed its lips, hiding the drippy canines, but its cold stare never left its cornered targets.
'That's why I couldn't take control of it.' Moonshadow started reaching for his hidden sword.
Snowhawk shook her head. 'Because somebody else already has.'
She flinched as the mighty animal began trotting into the gully.
TEN
Dangerous friends
Private Investigator Katsu trudged up the third flight of narrow, dark-wood stairs, his big frame just squeezing between the posts at the top.
Samurai escorts led and followed him. Katsu stepped through a dim porch with a tiled roof and stone walls and out onto the battlements of Momoyama Castle.
A gorgeous spring sunset, pink and apricot shades, splashed the waning sky. The sun was be – hind the high hills, its diffused light still strong and faintly tinged with orange.
'Sunset,' the samurai behind Katsu said, 'is a precious time of day. It reminds us that every glory must fade and that all things, cruel or sweet, come to an end.'
The man leading him grunted in agreement.
'You, sirs, are wise warriors indeed,' Katsu said, smiling. He turned his head, admiring the vista. Across the wide moat, the town of Fushimi sprawled over low hills. He nodded at its greatest landmarks. The tori gate near the entrance to town, its modest shrine nearby, the poor street on low ground that always flooded, Fushimi's main temple . . . wait. He glanced back sharply to the left. There were changes he hadn't noticed before. They had moved the sake brewery. And that old cable-and-winch system over the moat had been dismantled. Security was tightening. Did Silver Wolf expect a siege?
The samurai ahead stopped, moved to one side and bowed. 'My lord awaits you there, among his archers.'
Katsu bowed back. When he straightened up he saw Silver Wolf motioning to him.
He met the warlord where a high parapet flared out from the castle wall. Along it, samurai archers were undertaking sunset target practice, their proud master looking on.
'I know that detective face!' Silver Wolf laughed as Katsu approached. 'Always questions, ever the probing mind, neh?' He slapped his visitor's back. 'You're wondering what their target is, aren't you? You're curious if I'm bloodthirsty enough to take pot shots at my own town.'
'Oh, no, great lord.' Katsu lowered his head meekly, relying on his skills as a liar. 'Simply curious,' he chuckled. 'While assuming nothing.'
Katsu studied Silver Wolf's twinkling eyes and breezy manner. Why was he in such a good mood? For some reason, Katsu found it just as disquieting as the warlord's more frequent states: dark brooding, drunken rage. He wasn't sure why. Katsu forced a smile.
His news was going to shatter this contented little atmosphere, that was for sure. He glanced at the nearest archer, then the others beyond him. Once he ruined Silver Wolf's tranquil evening, would they be taking pot shots at him?
'Go ahead, push between those two fellows, see what they shoot at.' The warlord bundled Katsu to the edge of the parapet. He felt his broad back muscles stiffen. A big drop. So far down. Katsu broke out into a sweat. 'Not that close, you'll pitch over,' Silver Wolf sniggered, dragging him back. Katsu sighed, steadied himself and looked down.
A rice-straw dummy, in the shape of a slender man, bobbed in the centre of the moat. It was pincushioned with arrows. More arrows floated around it, along with three bloated dead carp the archers had accidentally killed. Katsu squinted hard. That dummy rose from a single circular wooden float. He frowned at the unfamiliar design.
'I didn't have it made,' Silver Wolf smiled, his eyes bright. 'It was a gift. From our Fuma allies. A training toy they use, to help shinobi learn to kill shinobi. On water!'
The warlord took Katsu's wrist and drew him clear of the archers.
'Show this sticky-eye what you can do!' Silver Wolf held his head up. 'Begin!'
The archers nocked arrows as one, drew in perfect synchronisation and fired a tight cluster of arrows. It hissed high into the air at a sharp angle. Katsu frowned.
That vector looked all wrong. They'd miss! Why not shoot directly at the dummy, using line of sight? He watched the arrows soar until they became invisible. Katsu blinked, picking them up again on their way down. Steadily their hiss grew louder.
The arrows fell straight at the dummy. It bucked as they made impact. Katsu gaped. Unless he was mistaken, every projectile had found its mark.
Silver Wolf rounded on his hireling. 'Each unit in my command is receiving special training, based on Clan Fuma advice. We will be ready and when this is all over, I will be cleaning my claws!' He held up his hands, fingers curled to represent talons.
'My lord will prove invincible.' Katsu bowed low. 'You are the wind of destiny. Japan will be returned to the Way of the Warrior. I am proud to serve the future Shogun.'
'Yes, yes, smooth-tongue.' The warlord looked him up and down, eyes narrowing. 'I know you are . . . but what brings you back to me now? Your visit is a day early.'
Katsu quickly scratched his chin so that Silver Wolf didn't see him swallow. 'I have news, master.' This was it. He filled his chest, raised his chin high. Dignity mattered, even if death came soon after. Katsu spoke slowly, his tone formal. 'I was contacted on the Tokaido, by an exhausted rider. As he had already done, he bade me memorise this despatch to you. It comes from your task force in the north.'
'Might this be . . . bad news?' The warlord's eyes glowed as if that idea excited him. Katsu nodded, trying to glean his master's motive. He felt sweat run down his back.
Was this an act, a cruel trick or prank that would soon turn to more honest fury?
Did he want to hear of defeat, for some perverse reason?
Or was he hoping for an excuse to explode with rage and launch an open war?
Katsu grinned sheepishly. He feared this man and often wondered if, despite his castle, army and noble rank, he would live long enough to seize power. He was too easy to hate. Then Katsu reminded himself that for all his failings, Silver Wolf paid well. Better, in fact, than any daimyo he had previously served. So what if he was slightly mad? Half his kind were, and at least a third of them dreamed of becoming a military dictator amidst showers of each other's blood.
The Wrath of Silver Wolf Page 11
