Soul of the Sword

by Julie Kagawa

Naganori waited for us in the bowels of Hakumei castle, standing with his arms crossed in the center of the stonewalled room, but he wasn’t the only one.

  “Yumeko-san.” Kage Masao smiled at me from just inside the door, the flickering torchlight casting his pale face in shadow. He was dressed in blue hakama trousers and midnight-black robes, with pink-and-indigo petals drifting across the fabric like rain. A black silk fan rested between his fingers as he nodded in my direction. “And the rest of our honored guests.” He gave a slight bow as the rest of the party entered the room. “Forgive me, I did not have a chance to introduce myself before. I am Kage Masao, chief advisor to Lady Hanshou. I hope your stay in Hakumei castle has been a pleasant one.”

  Okame snorted, which turned into a grunt as Reika kicked him in the ankle. Masao politely refused to notice. “I have taken it upon myself to oversee your final travel preparations,” the courtier went on, and gestured to a servant, who came out of the corner with a handful of papers in one hand and a large, rectangular pack dangling from the other. The pack was made of woven bamboo, with a pair of leather straps that allowed one to carry it on their shoulders. “Here are your travel documents, signed and sealed by Lady Hanshou herself, that will allow you to journey between territories without harassment. And a few supplies to get you to your final destination. Master Naganori has been kind enough to open the Path of Shadows once more, so I fear your time with us has come to a close.” As Master Jiro took the documents and Okame took the pack, his sharp black eyes fixed on me. “Do remember, Yumeko-san, once you leave Kage lands, you will be outside the range of Lady Hanshou’s influence. I would advise caution. Others might attempt to stop your journey, and we will not be able to help should you find yourself surrounded by dishonorable assassins.”

  I nodded. “We understand. Thank you, Masao-san.”

  The courtier smiled and gave me the barest of nods, then turned to the glowering Kage Naganori in the center of the room. “Naganori-san? Are you prepared?”

  The majutsushi gave me a stiff, flinty smile that did not reach his eyes. “Whenever they are ready, Masao-san.”

  “Naganori-san will use the Path of Shadows to take you to Jujiro, a merchant town that sits on the border between the Fire and the Water Clan territories,” the courtier went on, turning back to me. “From there, if you travel due north, you will reach the Forest of a Thousand Eyes in two days’ time. We cannot bring you any closer than this.” Masao spread his fan and regarded me over the black silk. “I do wish to warn you, Yumeko-san—when we realized Hakaimono had gone into the forest, we sent a unit of samurai and shinobi to guard the perimeter, in case he emerged again.” He paused, then went on grimly, “Those men were never heard from again.”

  I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What happened?”

  “We don’t know.” The noble shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Overnight, it seems the entire unit disappeared. Even the shinobi vanished without a trace. As if something tracked them down and silenced them all.

  “We can only assume Hakaimono wearied of being hunted,” Masao went on, “and decided to slaughter his pursuers, both to end the threat they represented and to blind us to whatever he is doing in the forest. Which means there is something in the Forest of a Thousand Eyes that he does not wish us to see. Unfortunately, that could be any number of things—an evil place of power, a cabal of demons left over from the last war.” His voice grew softer, chilling the blood in my veins. “And of course, there are the ruins of Genno’s castle, at the very heart of it all. Were I to hazard a wild guess, I would say that Hakaimono is probably headed there. For what reasons, I can only presume the worst.”

  A cold lump settled in the pit of my stomach, and I could feel the weight of the scroll, heavy and terrible, beneath my robes. Masao watched me over the edge of his fan, sharp black eyes assessing. As if he knew I wasn’t telling him something.

  Fortunately, at that moment Naganori stepped forward, radiating impatience. “With your leave, Masao-san,” he said with a stiff bow, and gestured us all toward the torii gate. “The night wanes quickly, and it is dangerous to leave the Path of Shadows standing open.”

  “Ah, of course. Please excuse me.” Masao smiled and stepped away, fluttering his fan. “I wish you and your companions luck, Yumeko-san,” he said cheerfully, as the majutsushi turned us toward the gate. “Remember, let us know the moment you have completed your mission. If you succeed, you will have done what the most gifted priests and majutsushi failed to accomplish. Lady Hanshou will be most pleased, and you will have earned the favor of a daimyo.”

  I didn’t care much about the favor of the Kage daimyo; it seemed to me she wanted Tatsumi as her own personal living weapon. But saying so seemed awfully rude, so I merely smiled and bowed to the courtier, then followed Naganori to the torii gate in the center of the room.

  “I have opened the path for you,” the majutsushi told us, as I shivered in the cold air wafting from the space between the posts. “You will not need me to guide you this time. You must simply walk it until you reach your destination. There will be another majutsushi waiting to open the path on the other side. If nothing happens and you do not go careening off the path into Meido, you will find yourself in the basement of one of the merchants in Jujiro. They will be expecting you, but do not linger, and do not attempt to converse with the owners of the house. Depart the property as quickly as possible and search for the north gate out of the town. Your travel papers will get you past the guards with little to no trouble, but it is still advisable to be cautious, to keep your heads down and avoid attracting attention.”

  He glanced at Okame as he said this, making the ronin grin. “Oh, don’t worry, Naganori-san,” Okame said. “An onmyoji, a ronin, a priest and a shrine maiden, two dogs and an Imperial noble walking around together? We’re sure to fit right in.”

  Naganori’s mouth thinned, but he turned back to me. “When you do find the north gate,” he continued, “all you have to do is follow the road. It eventually ends at the abandoned village of Takemura near the edge of the Forest of a Thousand Eyes. When you reach an empty, overgrown village likely haunted by yurei and demons, you’ll know you’re close. Do you have any questions before we send you off?”

  I shook my head, and the majutsushi gave a brisk nod. “Then there is nothing else to be done here,” he said, and gestured to the torii gate. Between the posts, the air darkened, like a shadow creeping over the floor. I could feel the icy tendrils of the space between reaching out to me, clawing at my skin, and shivered. “Sayonara,” Naganori said, and stepped away, as if already dismissing us. “Good luck on the path.”

  I looked at the inky blackness through the torii gate and took a deep breath. Hold on, Tatsumi. I’m coming.

  Flanked by Daisuke and Okame, and with Reika, Master Jiro and the two dogs at my back, I stepped forward onto the Path of Shadows. As soon as we were through, the light behind us faded, the tear between realms sealed and we were alone in the land of the dead.

  I could already feel their eyes on us and, for a moment, could only stand there shivering.

  “Come.” Master Jiro stepped forward, Chu and Ko at his side. The two dogs seemed to glow softly in the inky shadows of the path, twin balls of luminance in the gloom. “Let us not repeat our mistakes the first time we came through,” the old priest said, his voice sounding weak and rough in the black. “Our faith in each other must be stronger than the calls of the dead. Reika-chan, if you would…”

  “Hai, Master Jiro.” The shrine maiden reached into her sleeve and withdrew an ofuda, the kanji for path written down the strip of paper in black ink. “If you feel yourself slipping,” Master Jiro said, as Reika stepped to the front, “look to your companions. They will not let you fall to the darkness.”

  Raising her hand, the miko released the ofuda, which spiraled into the air like an eel through water. It circled us once, then fluttered down the path, casting a faint glow against the shadows. Reika smiled.

  “It’s f
ound the path,” she said, watching the slip of light flicker and dance against the darkness. “If you ever start to lose your way, just look for the light.”

  “Then let us go,” said the priest. “Before the voices of the dead call to us.”

  Something whispered my name in the dark, low and anguished. Tatsumi’s voice. A shadow appeared, familiar and heartbreaking, in the corner of my vision. Pinning back my ears, I closed my eyes and turned away, refusing to look at it. It’s not him, I reminded myself, swallowing the lump that rose to my throat. Tatsumi wasn’t dead. He waited for me at the end of the road, at the Steel Feather temple, where the fate of the Dragon scroll would be decided. I would see the demonslayer again, and I would free him from Hakaimono. Or the First Oni would kill us all, and the Master of Demons would rise again. Simple as that.

  “Yumeko-chan?” Something touched my arm. I jumped and opened my eyes to see Okame gazing down at me, his eyes concerned. “Are you all right?”

  “Hai, Okame-san.” I nodded. “I’m just…thinking about the mission, and what I have to do when we find Hakaimono.”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry about it, Yumeko-chan,” he said brightly. “We just have to save the empire from the First Oni and the Master of Demons. Easy stuff, right?”

  I frowned at him. “I don’t think it will be easy, Okame-san. Do you?”

  “Nope.” The ronin shrugged. “Not at all. But I can’t take this too seriously, considering we’re all probably going to die. Just think of the ballads they’ll compose in our honor.”

  “You two,” came Reika’s impatient voice from up ahead. “Whatever you are talking about, can it not wait until we are off the Path of Shadows and out of the realm of the dead?”

  “Gomen, Reika-chan,” Okame called, his voice still obstinately cheerful in the darkness. “Yumeko and I were discussing what kind of ballads they’ll write of our tragically honorable deaths while fighting Hakaimono. Personally, I would like mine to be done in haiku.”

  “Baka,” Reika muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned away. “Don’t compose our fates before we even get there. Besides, who would write a poem about your idiocy?”

  “The archer unbowed,” Daisuke murmured as we started down the path. “The demon could not break him. He laughed as he died.”

  “Ooh,” I said, pricking my ears forward. “That was impressive, Daisuke-san.”

  The noble chuckled. “I am a man of many talents, Yumeko-san. I believe that if one takes an interest in something, one must strive to perfect it, and himself.”

  “That,” Okame said, glaring at Daisuke with a half-gleeful, half-annoyed expression, “was entirely too easy, Taiyo. I would expect you would spend at least a week agonizing over the words of my death.” He struck a dramatic pose on the path, making us pause. “My death must be poignant and tragically noble, like the endings of all the Kabuki plays.”

  “Okame-san.” Daisuke gave the ronin a faint, almost sad smile. “Should you perish on this mission while I somehow live, I swear I will compose a ballad in your honor that will make even the kami weep. However, you must promise to do the same for me, for I do not intend to sit idly by. When the time comes, I plan on meeting that glorious death right alongside you.”

  My stomach twisted. “Has anyone ever composed a ballad where the heroes win, the enemy is defeated and no one else dies?” I asked. “Perhaps where, at the end of the tale, they go home with their friends, marry their love and live a peaceful life until the end of their days?”

  Daisuke laughed, a strange, light sound in the gloom and darkness with the voices of the dead moaning all around us. “That would make for a very anticlimactic tale, Yumeko-san,” he chuckled. Raising a hand, he motioned us forward again, and we trailed the priest and the shrine maiden into the dark, following a sliver of light that fluttered and danced up ahead. “In the best stories, the heroes always give their lives, for honor, duty, sacrifice and the glory of the empire. Anything less and it is not much of a story at all.”

  The journey back through Meido and the Path of Shadows wasn’t as bleak and horrifying as the first time; we knew what to expect and were prepared to close our ears to the calls of the dead. But it still wasn’t pleasant. I glimpsed Denga and Nitoru again, scowling at me, their faces dark as they glared through the mist that lined the trail. I knew it wasn’t really them, but my stomach twisted and a lump caught in my throat all the same. My friends were beside me this time, and I knew we wouldn’t let each other step off the path. Daisuke’s face was serenely blank as he strode forward, looking neither left nor right. Behind him, Okame stalked down the path with his arms crossed and his lips twisted in a smirk. Every so often, he would glance into the swirling mist and sneer, as if he was daring the spirits of the dead to do their worst. Once, I saw a spirit reach out for Reika, moaning, but there was a dart of orange in the gloom, as Chu rushed the ghost with a tiny but fierce yap, and the yurei recoiled, drawing back into the mist.

  Ahead of us, the ofuda strip glowed like a miniature dragon as it fluttered and darted about, always moving forward but always visible, even if it was just a thread of light against the darkness. But, just as I was wondering when this morbid journey would end, the strip of paper winked out and vanished into the black.

  I jerked up. “Um, Reika-chan?” I called, seeing the miko glance at me over her shoulder. “Your ofuda,” I pointed. “It disappeared. Do you think a yurei got it?”

  “No.” The shrine maiden shook her head, her shoulders sagging with visible relief. “It must have found the end of the path. Which means we’re nearly there.”

  As she spoke, the blackness dropped away, like we had stepped through the mouth of a cave, and I blinked in the sudden glow of orange lantern light. Squinting through the haze, I found myself standing in a small room, with rough wooden floors, windowless walls and a high ceiling. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw a small red torii gate standing against what looked to be a solid wall. A few wisps of fog curling around our feet soon dissolved in the shadows, but there was no sign of the path or the entrance into the realm of the dead.

  We were in some kind of storeroom. The rest of the chamber had shelves running the length of the walls that were stocked with all manner of crates, boxes and full sacks of what I guessed was rice. Barrels were stacked in three corners of the room, and rolls of cloth stood upright against the fourth.

  I turned to Reika. “Where did Naganori say we would end up?”

  “In the basement of one of the merchant houses in Jujiro,” the shrine maiden replied, also gazing around. “From the looks of things, I’d say we made it.”

  “You have arrived.”

  We turned at the quiet voice. A young woman wearing long robes of black and purple stood at the base of the steps leading up. White makeup and black lips marked her as a majutsushi of the Shadow Clan. “Please follow me,” she said simply, and turned away. “I will escort you out.”

  Not long after, we stood on the corner of a cobbled road, shivering in the predawn stillness, as the town of Jujiro slowly woke up. Across the street, past a row of warehouses guarded by rough-looking men, I could see a structured web of wooden docks and dozens of brightly colored sails, drifting or bobbing lazily on the water. A constant breeze blew in from the harbor, smelling of fish and river water, or maybe that was from the rows of fish being gutted and sliced open at the market across the street.

  “I’ve never heard of Jujiro,” I said, marveling at all the sights and sounds of the harbor. “How close are we to the Dragon Spine Mountains?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Reika said. “I’ve never been to Jujiro myself.”

  “If you’ll allow me,” Daisuke said, and took the lead as we started down the road. “I have traveled through this area a few times in the past. Let me share what I can remember. The town of Jujiro is also known as the Crossroads,” Daisuke continued, oblivious or uncaring of Okame rolling his eyes at his back, “and it is the only town in the empire that isn’t controlled by any
one family or clan. Because it is surrounded on three sides by rivers, including the River of Gold that flows on to the Imperial city, it has become an important hub for trade and economic growth. In the past, wars were fought to see who would control Jujiro, but in the end, the emperor decided that it would belong to no clan and every clan.” He nodded to a warehouse on one of the many docks, flying the banner of a familiar moon engulfed by an eclipse. “That’s why the Kage have a presence here—all the clans do. I believe this is the River of Gold, which, if you followed it east, would eventually lead you to Kin Heigen Toshi.” His voice grew somber as he pointed in another direction. “If you travel north, in two days’ time you will see the edge of Kurai Tsuki Mori, known today as the Forest of a Thousand Eyes. Which is likely the reason Lady Hanshou sent us here. Jujiro is the closest major town to that cursed forest.

  “However,” he continued, as I shivered in the cool night air, “if we ignore Lady Hanshou’s wishes and follow the River of Gold east…”

  “We hit the Dragon Spine Mountains,” Okame finished, and Daisuke nodded.

  “Then that is our destination,” Master Jiro wheezed. He tottered down the road, leaning heavily on his staff, Chu and Ko staying close at his heels. “We must find the eastern gate, if such a thing exists.” He coughed, bringing one fist to his mouth, his thin shoulders trembling, until the fit passed. At his feet, Ko gave a concerned whine.

  “Forgive me, Master Jiro,” Daisuke said, his brows furrowed. “With all due respect, are you feeling well? Enough for a long trek up the harshest of mountain terrains?”

  “I am well.” The old priest waved off Daisuke’s concern. “My lungs are not used to these rapidly changing temperatures, but I will adapt.”

  “Are you sure?” Okame asked, looking dubious over his crossed arms. “You’re old, and I don’t want to have to carry you all the way up the mountain.”

  “I will be fine, ronin.” Master Jiro’s voice was a bit sharper now. “If I can walk the Pious Pilgrimage from Shimizu in Water Clan territory all the way to Heichimon’s Shrine in Hino lands, I can endure a hike up the Dragon Spine.” He sniffed. “Besides, how were the lot of you planning to bind Hakaimono on your own, even enough to slow him down? You are going to need a priest of my…ahem…experience, if we are going to trap an oni lord.”