Soul of the Sword

by Julie Kagawa

  “Ah,” Okame said, giving Daisuke a sideways grin. “There’s that cryptic Kage babble I was waiting for.”

  Naganori’s lips thinned, and he dropped his arm. “Come,” he ordered, and turned away. “The night is waning, and even on the paths we must take, it is still a long way to Hakumei castle. Lady Hanshou is waiting.”

  4

  A HIDDEN TALENT

  Suki

  From the shade of a willow tree in the garden, Suki watched Lord Seigetsu meditate by the pond, hands cupped in his lap and eyes closed, and silently admired his perfect physique. His long silver hair glimmered in the moonlight like liquid metal, his back was straight and his face serene. Even his spotless white robes had settled perfectly around him. A small pale ball perched on the tips of his thumbs, glowing softly and seeming to hover there of its own volition. At his feet, red-and-white carp swirled lazily in the crystal clear water, barely making a ripple on the moonlit surface, and overhead, a sakura tree, fully in bloom, sheltered the figure beneath with brilliant pink blossoms. Not one petal fluttered down to disturb him.

  “Isn’t Lord Seigetsu amazing?” Taka said next to her. The little yokai sat against the tree trunk, his single huge eye riveted to the figure at the edge of the pond. A wistful smile stretched his fang-filled mouth, and his chin rested in the palms of his clawed hands as he stared at his master. “Everything he does is perfect,” the yokai stated. “I wish I had his poise, his grace, his…perfection.” He sighed. “Sadly, I will have to be content with ‘small’ and ‘hideous’ and ‘only slightly useful.’ Not that I’m complaining!” he added quickly. “Or that Lord Seigetsu has ever called me those things. I just…have accepted the truth about certain things. Some of us are destined to be lords and leaders.” He gestured with a clawed hand to the figure beside the pond. “And some of us are born to be servants, right, Suki-san? Oh, gomen.” He clapped both clawed hands over his mouth, perhaps remembering that the girl he spoke to was no longer alive. “I didn’t mean to imply…I only meant…”

  Suki drifted back to smile at him, shaking her head, and the little yokai relaxed. Taka wasn’t malicious, she knew. He didn’t have a cruel bone in his body. She did believe he was slightly lonely and didn’t get to talk much with Seigetsu-sama, especially when the subject was about their mutual, mysterious benefactor. “Lord Seigetsu saved me,” Taka went on, returning his gaze to the figure by the pond. “He took me in when no one wanted me, and has allowed me to travel with him ever since. Sometimes, I wonder why. He doesn’t tolerate anyone else following him.” He blinked his huge eye. “Well, except you, Suki-san, and you’re a ghost, so he can’t exactly threaten you.”

  Suki cocked her head with a frown, but Taka didn’t seem to notice. The yokai leaned against the tree with a gaping, toothy yawn. “You worked at the Imperial palace, didn’t you, Suki-san?” he asked, startling her with the randomness of the question. His mind worked like that, she’d noticed, bouncing from one thought to the next like an agitated cricket, never settling on one thing for long. She nodded, hoping he would not mention her old mistress, Lady Satomi. Thankfully, the memories of her death, her old life, were becoming scattered and hazy. She had been a maid to the emperor’s concubine, but Lady Satomi turned out to be a blood mage, one who practiced the forbidden magic of Jigoku, and she had killed Suki to summon a demon into the realm. Why Satomi had summoned the oni, Suki wasn’t sure—something about an ancient scroll—but the moment of her death had been violent and terrifying, and something she didn’t care to think about.

  She wasn’t entirely sure why her soul continued to exist in the mortal realm. According to the ghost tales her mother used to tell her, souls that lingered did so because something tied them to their former lives. Vengeance was the most common reason, a desire to punish those who had wronged them in life. But Lady Satomi was dead, killed by the very man Suki followed now. If it was revenge she desired, wouldn’t she have moved on?

  Suki shivered. She knew she was dead, and that nothing could really hurt her now, but the thought of drifting aimlessly through the world as a spirit was terrifying. She couldn’t go home; her father, Mura Akihito, certainly did not need the ghost of his only child hovering around his shop. Taka was friendly, and Lord Seigetsu had slain the horrible Lady Satomi; following them seemed a better idea than aimlessly wandering the land. At least she wasn’t lonely anymore.

  Near the edge of the pond, Seigetsu rose, as fluid and graceful as sunlight over leaves. His ball vanished into his billowing robes so swiftly that Suki might have imagined it was there at all.

  “Taka, come. I have need of you.”

  “Hai, Seigetsu-sama!” The little yokai practically flung himself across the ground in excitement. Suki hesitated a moment, then drifted after him.

  “Yes, Seigetsu-sama.” Taka halted at the feet of his master. His single huge eye gazed up at the man in open adoration. “I am here. What do you want me to do?”

  The silver-haired man pointed to the ground. “Here, Taka-chan,” he ordered. “Sit on the pillow, if you would.” Taka instantly did as he asked, plopping himself onto the red cushion and gazing up expectantly. Seigetsu sat down again as well, crossing his legs as he gazed down at the little yokai, the torchlight flickering over his silver hair and Taka’s bald skull. “Now, close your eye,” he ordered. “And be silent.”

  The yokai obeyed, closing his eye and pressing his lips together. Seigetsu straightened, and the white globe suddenly appeared in one hand, balanced on three fingers. As Suki watched, fascinated and wary, he reached out with his other hand and touched two elegant fingers to Taka’s forehead.

  For a moment, nothing happened. The carp swirled lazily in the pond, torchlight flickered and a wind rustled the branches of the sakura trees, though not a single petal showered the motionless figures below the trunk.

  Then, Taka’s small body spasmed, making Suki jump. It jerked again, violent shudders ripping through the yokai’s delicate frame, and his head fell back, fanged mouth gaping. As Suki trembled in sympathy and fear, his eye slid open, completely black and as empty as the void, and she would have gasped in horror if she could.

  Seigetsu just smiled. The ball in his hand flickered softly, pulsing with its own inner light, seeming to echo the heartbeat of the yokai in front of it. Seigetsu kept his fingers pressed to Taka’s forehead, his face serene even as Taka twitched and shuddered beneath him.

  “Tell me of the fox girl,” he murmured. “Where is she going? Is she in danger? What will happen to her in Kage lands?”

  Taka’s mouth opened, a thin, scratchy voice emerging that was so unlike the happy, cheerful yokai that Suki could only stare. “The path is treacherous,” he whispered. “Hands reach out, pull them into the mist. Shadows in the walls, under the floor. Whispers stalk the streets, glowing eyes burn the darkness. A living dead woman has a request.”

  Suki couldn’t make sense of any of this, but the silver-haired man nodded. “Nothing terrible so far,” he muttered. “And what of Hakaimono?”

  Taka shuddered violently, his small hands twitching at his sides. “Death,” he rasped, and to Suki’s ears, even the harsh whisper sounded horrified. “Death, chaos, destruction. Mountains of bodies. Valleys of fire. Claws and teeth, ripping flesh. Walking bones, blood, pain, fear!”

  “Predictable.” Seigetsu sighed, though Taka’s voice was growing ever more frantic, continuing the litany of horrifying descriptions as if the events were happening in front of him. A thin stream of blood ran from his nose down his chin and spattered onto his hands. “Enough,” Seigetsu ordered, pulling his arm back. His deep voice rippled through the air and caused the ground to shiver. “Taka, stop.”

  The little yokai slumped, his head falling to his chest, as the torrent of words came to a halt. Suki was still trembling, but Seigetsu simply tucked his ball into his robes and brushed out his sleeves, before turning his attention to the yokai again. On the pillow, Taka groaned, stirred and slowly opened his eye, blinking up at the man overhe
ad.

  Seigetsu smiled. “Back with us, Taka-chan?” he asked.

  The yokai’s forehead wrinkled. “Did I…have another vision, master?”

  “You did.” Seigetsu nodded and tossed him a silk handkerchief. “Quite a terrible one, it seemed. I had to pull you back before you caused real damage to yourself.”

  Taka caught the handkerchief, frowning, before pressing the cloth to his nose with a plaintive sigh. “I wish I could remember.”

  “No, Taka-chan,” Seigetsu reassured him. “You wouldn’t understand the visions even if you could. Put it from your mind. I have already discerned what I needed to know.”

  “Hai, Seigetsu-sama.” The little yokai perked a bit, giving his master a toothy smile. “As long as I can be useful to you, that is all I wish for.”

  Watching them, Suki was suddenly filled with apprehension. Could Taka-chan see the future, or at least a part of it? And if he could, was Lord Seigetsu using the little yokai for his own ends? The thought made her uncomfortable. Seigetsu-sama was obviously very powerful and could control some kind of magic, just like Lady Satomi. What did he want with the kitsune girl and the demon?

  Taking a step back, Seigetsu waved a hand, as if he were ripping something from the air. With a soundless billow, the tranquil pond and gardens surrounding them frayed apart, scattering to the wind like tendrils of colored smoke, revealing a dark, murky forest. The torches disappeared, taking their light with them, and even the tiny glimmers of fireflies vanished like they had never been. In the sudden gloom, Seigetsu’s eyes glowed like candlelight as he gazed into the shadows. “Everything is going according to plan,” he mused, as Taka scrambled to his feet, the pillow beneath him dissolving into colored mist. “The game is starting to come together, but we mustn’t let either of them go too far down the wrong path. It seems the fox girl will be occupied for a time, so perhaps we should keep an eye on Hakaimono, make certain his part in the story is not lost. Come, Taka.” He turned away, a brilliant figure in white, silver hair and robes glowing in the shadows. “It is a long journey to Mizu lands, even if we ride the winds. We should get started.”

  “Can Suki-san come with us, master?”

  Seigetsu looked back. His gaze rose to Suki, still hovering at the edge of the trees, and a corner of his mouth curled up.

  “I had assumed as much.” His voice was like a cool mountain spring, deep and powerful, and Suki felt a shiver all the way from her toes to the top of her head. “She is, of course, important to the story, as well.”

  5

  THE MOST DANGEROUS QUARRY

  HAKAIMONO

  The Kage had found me already.

  “Hakaimono.” One of the men stepped forward, glaring at me from where I stood at the top of the temple steps. A majutsushi of the Shadow Clan, clad in black with his face painted white, though I could see the sweat on his forehead, smell the fear radiating from him. His men, a dozen Kage samurai in all, clustered behind him, hands on their sword hilts. I felt a smirk twist one side of my mouth. After all this time, after all our battles, the Shadow Clan had learned nothing. One majutsushi? A dozen samurai? The last time I faced the Kage, I had carved my way through a hundred of their best warriors before they ever put a scratch on me.

  I grinned at the dozen humans standing among the stones and overgrown weeds of the courtyard. This was a small temple, shoved away in the foothills below the Tokan Kiba Mountains on the edge of Sky Clan territory. The temple itself was ancient and falling apart; the roofs were full of holes and at least an inch of dust had coated the creaky wood floors. A statue of the humans’ revered Jade Prophet sat unhappily alone in the main hall, topped with a few white streaks from the sparrow nest atop her head. I had found this hilarious, and had chuckled at the foot of the statue for a good minute before moving on. From what I could discern, either through disease or attack or because the monks had simply grown old and died, as humans were wont to do, the temple had been abandoned long ago, which was the reason I’d chosen to stop here. I’d been stuck in Kamigoroshi for a long time; the world had changed since I’d seen it last, and I needed time to reacclimate before I started laying waste to cities and soaking the land in blood. Slaughtering a temple full of pious bald men would have been fun, but such massacres had a way of drawing attention, something I was trying to avoid right now.

  Unfortunately, it seemed my arrival had already been noticed. Barely three days out, and the Kage were already hounding my footsteps. Persistent bastards. I’d known I would see them sooner or later. They had a whole team of shinobi and majutsushi who monitored the bearer of Kamigoroshi—which at this time had been Kage Tatsumi—making sure the demonslayer stayed sane and in control. As soon as I had escaped, one of them probably scampered home to let the Shadow Clan know I was free again. This little visit wasn’t unexpected, but it did mean the Kage were already moving against me.

  Then again, a bloodbath was just what I needed to relieve some stress and pent-up frustration. That it was the Kage, the line I had vowed to wipe from existence for their insolence of keeping me trapped in Kamigoroshi, made it that much better.

  “Congratulations, Kage,” I said, smiling from the top of the steps to the main hall. “You found me.” My grin grew wider, showing fangs, and several of them flinched. They had likely never seen an oni before, even one who was human-sized. This was, technically, Kage Tatsumi’s body I was using, though now that I was free, some of my demonic features had seeped through. I wasn’t as large as my true self, but the horns, claws and ink-black skin were a dead giveaway. I still looked like an oni, which could make even the bravest humans blanch in fear. “Now, what do you propose we do about it?”

  Deep inside, a flicker of a subconscious not my own stirred. Kage Tatsumi, the original owner of this body, desperately trying to drive me out, to stop what he knew was about to happen. I felt his presence struggling within, like a fish tangled in a net, and laughed at his feeble attempts to halt the inevitable.

  Keep watching, demonslayer. Watch, as I shred your clansmen into little bloody strips and scatter them to the wind, and know there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me. But keep trying. Struggle and fight as long as you can. I love the way your despair feels. There was a pulse of rage, directed at me, and I snickered. Just remember, the last time I was trapped in Kamigoroshi for nearly four hundred years. You’ve been in there three days. It already feels like forever, doesn’t it?

  The majutsushi stepped forward. “Hakaimono,” he said again, and I had to give him credit; his voice didn’t shake, though the cuffs of his sleeves were trembling, very slightly. “By order of Lady Hanshou, you will release the demonslayer, Kage Tatsumi, and return to Kamigoroshi.”

  I laughed at him. The sound echoed off the courtyard walls and rose into the night, and the samurai clustered together, raising their swords. “Oh, this is new,” I mocked, still chuckling as I gazed down at them. “Release the demonslayer, you say? Let him go and willingly return to Kamigoroshi for another few centuries?” I tilted my head in a mock quizzical manner. “And out of curiosity, what do I get if I agree to these demands? Another four hundred years of boredom, despair and slowly going insane?” I shook my head. “Not a great deal, Kage. Your negotiation skills could use some work.”

  All pretense of civility faded as the majutsushi pointed a thin finger up the steps, his features twisting with hate and fear. “Do not mock me, demon,” he spat. “Release Kage Tatsumi and return to the sword, or face the wrath of the entire Shadow Clan.”

  “The wrath of the entire Shadow Clan, you say?” I echoed. “Human, your clan declared war on me when you sealed me away in this wretched sword a thousand years ago.” I raised Kamigoroshi by the sheath, lifting it before me, and the majutsushi fell back from the stairs as if I had brandished a severed head. “I remember Kage Hirotaka,” I continued. “I remember his wish to the Dragon—to keep me trapped in this pathetic realm. To suffer endless torment. Well, he got his wish.” I drew Kamigoroshi, letting the centuries
of hate and rage rise to the surface. “Weak, pathetic, short-lived mortals. You speak of declaring war on me, but you’re too late. I’ve already declared war on the entire Shadow Clan, and I will not rest until every member is purged from existence, until every man, woman and child lies dead in their own blood, and the name Kage is erased from the course of history, forever.”

  “Monster.” The majutsushi’s face had gone pale, horror shining from his eyes as he stared up at me. “We waste our time, and our words, with this one. There is no saving the demonslayer.”

  He thrust a hand toward the top of the steps. A ripple of power surged through the air, and black chains erupted from the stones and coiled around me. They slithered over my arms and chest, cold and constricting, binding my limbs and anchoring me in place. The majutsushi gave a smug smile and turned to the samurai.

  “Kill it,” he ordered, pointing up the stairs. “Destroy the abomination. Take its head and return the demon to Kamigoroshi. For the honor of the Kage!”

  The warriors gave a unified battle cry and charged up the steps, swords raised high. I narrowed my eyes and grasped the sword hilt as the first warriors reached the top of the stairs, even as a tiny voice inside shouted a futile warning to the approaching samurai. He knew that the majutsushi’s Shadow magic would be useless against one who thrived in the dark.

  Keep watching, Tatsumi. Your clan is about to get a bit smaller.

  With a snarl, I tore myself free of the chains, and the first two samurai exploded in a haze of blood as Kamigoroshi ripped through their middles and sliced them in two. The halves fell away, expressions frozen in shock, as I beheaded another samurai and stepped forward to meet the rest. They gave shouts of fear and surprise and slashed at me, far too slow. Blood arced through the air and spattered upon the stones, as Kamigoroshi flashed like a whirlwind and the samurai fell away in pieces.