by Julie Kagawa
“A human.” The cat yawned, waving her tails. “A silly human in black, thinking it is being silent and unseen as it creeps through the darkness. I see their kind often, skulking through the city. Pretending they are cats. Pathetic.” She twitched her whiskers. “Farewell, forest creature. Do leave my territory as soon as you are able.”
Twin tails in the air, the neko trotted away, slipped into an alley between two buildings and was gone.
Keeping an eye out for lurking shinobi, I hurried across the road and approached the entrance to the Lucky Frog. The two men standing at the doors were both very large. Their haori jackets hung open in the front, showing off their enormous stomachs and swirls of painted skin. I saw a tiger in lethal combat with a white snake etched down one man’s body, while his friend was so covered in colorful ink it looked like he was wearing another shirt. They saw me approaching and straightened, puzzled looks crossing their jowly faces, but before I could do or say anything, the door between them slid open and a body came hurtling through. It hit the edge of the street and rolled to a stop in a cloud of dust, as lantern light flickered over a familiar reddish-brown ponytail. I gasped and hurried forward as the body groaned and shifted in the dirt.
“Okame-san!”
“Kuso,” growled the ronin, struggling upright. Raising his head, he glared at the door, where another large man dusted his hands off and turned away. “I didn’t have anything in my sleeves, you bastards!” he called. “And if you think I was the only one with weighted dice in there, you’re dumber than the monkeys tattooed on your ass!”
“Are you all right, Okame-san?” I asked, as the ronin pushed himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. His clothes were different, I noticed; his brown hakama and unmarked red haori were absent of blood and grime, and he was mostly clean. “What happened to you?” The ronin gave me a dark, slightly sour look and turned away, brushing at his pants.
“What are you doing here, priestess?” he growled, making me blink in confusion, until I remembered that I wasn’t Yumeko right now, I was Reika. “Did you come all this way to lecture me on the evils of drinking and gambling halls?”
“No, Okame-san.” I shook my head. “You disappeared from the castle, you and Daisuke-san both. We…erm…Yumeko and I were worried about you.”
“I had to clear my head,” Okame gruffed. “Sitting around that castle was making me jumpy. Getting drunk and losing a lot of money has always worked in the past.” He scowled back at the doors. “Except the nights you hit on an extremely lucky streak and the brutes who run the hall accuse you of cheating. Those were the house dice I was using, you cheap bastards!” he snarled at the two large men, who glowered back stonily. The ronin snorted and nearly fell over, the rancid-sweet smell of sake wafting around him, stronger than usual. “Kuso. Still partly sober. Now I’m going to have to find somewhere else to drink.”
“Where’s Daisuke-san?”
The noble suddenly ducked through the doors of the gambling hall, looking both embarrassed and apologetic as he strode forward. I blinked. Like Okame, the Taiyo wore a clean but unmarked haori, dark blue with four white diamonds patterned on the shoulder. His long hair had been tied behind him, but even with a wide-brimmed straw hat perched on his head, there was no mistaking his noble bearing.
“My apologies, Okame-san,” Daisuke said as he joined us. “You were doing so well. I was unaware that you had been…escorted out.” His gaze slid to me, slender brows lifting. “Reika-san. What are you doing here? This is not a place for respectable priestesses.”
“Or respectable samurai,” Okame muttered.
“Rei…um…Yumeko and I were worried about you,” I told them. “We couldn’t find you in the castle, and thought something might’ve happened.”
Daisuke gave a slight frown. “Odd. I specifically told a servant girl that we were going into the city, and to let our companions know that we would return by the hour of the Rat. No one gave you this message, Reika-san?”
I started to answer, when a shiver ran up my back, and my tail bristled. My kitsune instincts were telling me something wasn’t right.
“Above you, fox!” hissed a shrill voice from the shadows. “On the roof!”
My blood chilled. I looked up, and saw a figure in black perched on the roof across the street, arm raised as if to hurl something.
“Daisuke, behind you!” I cried, and the noble whirled around, his sword clearing its sheath in an instant and slashing the air in front of him. There was a clang, and something glinted as it was knocked aside, skittering into the street. At the same time, a flash of cold, dark metal streaked past my head, ruffling a few strands of hair, and thunked into the post behind me.
Heart pounding, I looked up to see the figure on the roof dart back into the shadows, and I immediately sprinted across the road, hearing Daisuke and Okame call after me. Ducking into the alley between buildings, I searched the roof tiles for a figure in black, foxfire tingling against my fingertips, to no avail. The mysterious assailant had disappeared into the night.
“Reika-san!”
Pounding footsteps echoed behind me, and the noble and ronin entered the alley. “Reika-san,” Daisuke repeated, as Okame stumbled forward, glaring blearily around. “Did you see who attacked us? Or where they went?”
“No,” I said, and he exhaled.
“As I feared.” He straightened, gazing up at the rooftops as well, his voice contemplative. “It seems that someone in the Kage has taken offense to our presence here.”
“That didn’t take long,” Okame muttered. “Though I wonder if this was a planned attack by some pompous noble who couldn’t be bothered to do it himself, or if some shinobi took offense to my face and decided to use it for target practice.”
“It was Lord Iesada,” I supplied, making Daisuke’s pale brows arch. “He’s been at odds with Lady Hanshou over…a thing, and he didn’t want us to interfere.”
“Iesada-sama.” Daisuke didn’t look surprised, though he did appear a bit tired. “Even on the other side of the empire,” he sighed, “the game of court never changes. We are all but pawns in an endless match of power and favor, until fortune abandons us and we are removed from the board.” His brows lowered, his voice taking on a faint edge. “Though it seems that the Kage method of removing problem pieces from the game is much different than that of the Taiyo. The Sun Clan would not stoop to such cowardly attacks in the dark.” Daisuke sniffed, then gave me a contemplative look, tilting his head. “How did you come to find this out, Reika-san?” he asked.
“It’s…a long story.”
“Indeed.” He set his jaw, looking grim. “And one best told away from dark alleys where something just tried to assassinate us. We should return to Hakumei castle immediately.”
“An excellent idea,” said a familiar voice from the mouth of the alley, one that made my stomach drop.
Okame’s brows shot up. “R-Reika-san?” he stammered, as the shrine maiden materialized from the darkness, arms crossed, blocking the way out of the alley. Chu stood beside her, gazing at us all with a bored expression on his canine face. “But…you’re right here…How…Is this your long-lost twin we didn’t know about?”
The priestess gave a very loud, despairing sigh and turned to me. “Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked. “Would you care to show these gullible fools what is going on, or do I have to stand here and explain the obvious?”
“Yumeko-san,” Daisuke breathed, just as I reached up and stripped the leaf from my head, dispelling the illusion in a puff of smoke. Okame’s eyes bulged.
“Yumeko-chan! Then, it was you the whole time, not the priestess?” He looked back and forth between me and Reika. “Why?”
“So I could leave the castle,” I explained, feeling all their gazes on me. “I couldn’t just walk out the front gates, not without attracting the attention of the entire Shadow Clan. They were watching me after my meeting with Lady Hanshou. You weren’t in your rooms, and no one had seen you in the castle, so we thou
ght you might be in trouble. We agreed to look for you.”
“No, we did not,” Reika snapped. “We agreed that I would look for them, and you would remain in your room at the castle. What part of that did you not understand?” She lowered her voice to a near whisper, still glaring at me. “You are the bearer of the You-Know-What. We cannot risk the Shadow Clan discovering the truth.”
Okame let out a snicker. “Ah, there’s the normal uptight priestess we were missing. For a minute there I was afraid you were dying.”
“And you.” Reika turned her wrath on the ronin. “What made you think it was a good idea to leave the castle and wander down to the city at night in Shadow Clan territory? You know the importance of our mission. Why would you risk everything just for one night of whoring, gambling and getting drunk?”
“It is not like that, Reika-san,” Daisuke interjected before the ronin could respond. “Forgive me, I fear I have caused a misunderstanding. You see, it was I who suggested we go into the city.”
“Taiyo-san.” Reika blinked at him. “You did? Why?”
“I wished to discuss matters concerning what we saw on the Path of Shadows,” Daisuke said. “Okame-san was kind enough to listen. We did not want to be overheard at the castle, so we decided to come here.”
“Don’t take the fall for me, peacock,” Okame growled. “I don’t need your pity. Might as well tell her the truth, that my goal tonight was to get drunk off my ass and you were afraid I’d end up facedown in a gutter somewhere.” His tone turned surly. “Frankly, I don’t know why you bothered to come.”
Daisuke blinked. “It was never pity, Okame-san,” he answered in a quiet voice. “I came with you because I enjoy your company, nothing else. Regardless…” He turned back to Reika. “Perhaps we can discuss our plans back at the castle? We appear to have made a powerful enemy among the Shadow Clan, and remaining in a dark alley when there are assassins about is not the wisest course of action.”
“That I can agree with.” Reika nodded with a final glower at me. “Let us go quickly, before anything else happens. Hopefully when we return, the Shadow Clan will not question exactly how Yumeko snuck out of the castle without being seen, but there is nothing we can do about that now.”
As we moved to leave the alley, awareness made me pause. I turned to glance over my shoulder, and saw the black cat sitting atop the fence, watching us depart with glowing green eyes, her twin tails waving behind her. I smiled and offered a short bow, and when I looked up again, the neko was gone.
11
THE CASTLE OF DEMONS
HAKAIMONO
Dozens of eyes watched me as I walked through the courtyard of Onikage castle, whispers following me across the stones.
“Has Lord Genno summoned a new demon?”
“Who is that? It doesn’t look like any oni I’ve seen before.”
“Wait. Is that…Hakaimono-sama?”
Yokai and a few minor demons stared at me from nooks and shadows of the courtyard. Amanjaku, lowest of the demon hierarchy, scuttled between cracks and into crannies, yellow eyes wide as they peeked out. Of all the creatures here, they at least knew who I was. The rest of them, at least the ones I could see, were all monstrous yokai, from the bloated jorogumo crouched atop the castle roof, eight long legs folded against her thorax, to the kappa peering at me from the rancid pond, to the trio of nezumi ratlings huddled in the wreckage of a smashed cart, watching me with beady rodent eyes. They were wary, curious or hostile, but only a few were openly fearful. I smiled grimly. That would change after I spoke to Genno. When I was done with the blood mage, I would return and remind any who had forgotten who the First Oni was and why he was feared.
I could feel Tatsumi inside as well, watching the demons and yokai warily. Certainly, strolling so casually into a castle full of creatures who wanted to kill him would make even the demonslayer nervous. Not to mention the Master of Demons, who still awaited us at the top of the keep.
The hags led me across the courtyard and then up a flight of stone steps to the entrance of the castle. A human stood before the double doors, waiting for us, her arrogant posture making me bristle. The human’s robes were elegant: black with crimson threads gracing the sleeves like spidersilk, but the woman herself barely filled them. She was tall and thin, almost emaciated, with elongated limbs and a gaunt, narrow face. Pale skin clung tightly to her bones, giving her a skeletal appearance, and her eyes had turned a subtle yellow. A blood mage, both Tatsumi and I saw; one who had been practicing her art for a while, whose soul and energy had been siphoned away by Jigoku, until she was something not quite human. I gave her another year, two at most, before the taint suffusing her body consumed her, and she became just another demon.
“The Master is waiting for the oni,” the blood mage rasped, staring at me with hooded yellow eyes. “I am to take him before Lord Genno, once the binding is performed.”
I arched a brow. A binding was a human’s attempt to control the creature they had summoned, usually a demon, so that it would obey their commands. It also prevented the demon from turning on and harming the caster, which was a valid concern when working with the denizens of Jigoku. However, Genno was smart enough to realize the oni lords were too powerful to be bound, that even suggesting it was an insult.
So, either he was testing me, or this pathetic excuse for a human had no idea what she was dealing with.
The hags, at least, looked equal parts enraged and terrified. “A…a binding?” the green one exclaimed. “Don’t be ridiculous, mortal! Do you know who this is?”
“I do not,” the blood mage replied. “I see an oni. A very small oni, one that has somehow shrunk down to man-size. Either that, or a human half-breed. Still, the rules are clear. Demons who come into the castle must be bound, regardless of who or what they are. If you do not approve, take it up with Lord Genno. But this creature will submit to the binding before he is allowed into the Master’s presence. You needn’t bother assisting me,” she told the hags. “My blood coven will oversee the ritual.”
“Is that so?” I smiled, showing all my fangs. “And who might you be, human?”
“I am Mistress Sunako, the head witch of Lord Genno’s blood coven, and the one who will be binding you to his will, demon. It is by the Master’s orders that I am here, and by his will that you are allowed to see him.” The witch raised her hand, a tanto clutched in bony fingers, and pointed the knife at me. “You will submit to the binding, or you will not set one foot beyond this hall. Resist, and my coven will make you wish you had stayed in Jigoku. Is that clear?”
The hags swelled with fury, bristling and opening their mouths to argue, but I held up a claw. “Perfectly clear,” I said, still smiling. “Perform the ritual then, human. You three,” I told the sisters, “make sure we are not interrupted. Stand guard at the steps, and do not interfere.”
The hags glared at the blood witch, as if contemplating sinking their talons into her pale flesh and ripping it from her bones. But they bowed their heads to me and moved away, hovering at the top of the stairs.
I turned back to the witch and raised my arms. “Well, I am at your mercy, I suppose. Let’s get this over with.”
She nodded briskly and motioned me inside. I stepped through the doors into a vast, shadowy hall, pillars of black stone marching down the center and lining the walls. Unlike most human castles, the interior of Onikage was stark, unadorned and, after several decades of abandonment, quite filthy. The wooden floor was warped and rotting, vegetation grew through the walls and cobwebs hung from every corner. Despite the filth and the horde of monsters roaming outside, nearly a dozen humans, all females in various stages of corruption, stood in a loose semicircle in the center of the hall. Hollow eyes in gaunt, sallow faces watched me as I stepped into the middle of the room.
“No summoning circle,” I noted, glancing at the bare floor at my feet.
The head witch eyed me, suspicion and dislike written across her narrow face. “I see you are no stranger to bin
dings, oni,” she rasped. “True, there is no summoning circle, no words of power to hold you here. Perhaps that would be vital for a novice calling on his first amanjaku, but my coven is no stranger to demons, and I have been dancing with Jigoku for decades. My blood magic is surpassed only by the Master himself.”
“Ah. My mistake. Do continue.”
Pursing her lips, Mistress Sunako raised an arm and her sleeve fell back, revealing a brittle, sticklike limb covered in scars. “Do not attempt anything foolish, demon,” she warned, placing the edge of the knife against her forearm. “I am no fragile lady who swoons and faints at the mere mention of monsters. I have led Lord Genno’s blood coven for half a century. I am not one to be trifled with, and you would do well to remember that.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” I said, and raised both arms. “No trickery from me, mortals. You have my word. I will not move until you are finished.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she drew the blade across her forearm, carving a gash in her papery flesh. Blood oozed, running down her skin, though far more slowly than a normal cut, as if the witch had already used most of the blood in her body. As it started dripping, the witch lowered the dagger and caught the trickle with the blade. As more blood covered the steel, turning it red and shiny, she and the other witches began chanting in low, gravelly voices, words of dark power, fed by the energy of Jigoku.
Still chanting, Sunako lifted the blade, then flung the blood at me. It arced through the air, flared red and turned into glowing chains that wrapped themselves around my arms and chest. For a moment, they burned like molten metal, sizzling against my skin, though there was no smoke and no smell of burning flesh. Then the links seemed to melt into my body, vanishing into skin and muscle, and the chanting came to an end.
I took a deep breath, testing the strength of the witch’s spell, and smiled pleasantly. “Are we finished?” I asked. “Do I have leave to move about the castle now?”
