Karasu came around to total blackness and for a terrifying instant thought he was dead and then that he was blind. He thrashed around him, catching his knuckles on the stone floor and his hand on a pile of rubble, then, he felt a foot. It was the foot of the old woman and he cried out.
“Shukke-san. Are you alright? We thought you were dead,” a voice from behind him asked. He recognised it as one of his Samurai companions and a wave of relief swept over him. He closed his eyes and swallowed willing the panic away, but not quite succeeding. His heart pounded deafeningly in his ears and his head ached dreadfully. He was aware of the dull rumble above.
“What happened?” he asked at last.
“The roof caved in. You must have been unconscious for we could not rouse you. We think the Kapitan is dead, unless you can feel him in front of you,” the same Samurai answered.
With a shaking hand Karasu reached forwards to the space where Thom had last been seen, but his hands came abruptly against a wall of rock and earth at the base of which the legs and feet of the dead witch protruded. He caught his breath and snatched back his hands as if burnt.
“There is nothing but rock. He.., he must be buried beneath it,” Karasu cried and hung his head as the realisation that Thom must be dead and that they could no longer get to Mizuki overwhelmed him.
“I am sorry Shukke-san, but we can do nothing now. We must leave. We will have to feel our way back along this tunnel. Are you hurt? Can you walk,” the other Samurai asked anxiously.
Karasu did not answer immediately. For five minutes he wallowed in grief and shame, blaming himself for Thom’s death. If he had not balked at killing the woman they may not have been trapped by this rock fall. He brushed the tears from his face and felt consumed by abject misery and a sense of utter failure.
Then a light filled his head. With it the gentle spirit of his sister. She had sensed his anguish and she had reached into his mind to offer comfort. He sobbed and begged her forgiveness and in return he learned that somehow Devlin had not died and that there was still hope. Mizuki impressed on him the need for him to get back to the ship, to not give up on her. Relief flooded through him tinged with shame and fear, but he did as she asked and, struggling to stand as the pain threatened to split his head in two, he groped back towards the Samurai.
“We must go,” he said and laid a hand on the first man’s shoulder. The trio turned and like blind men fumbled their way back the way they had come.
FORTY-FOUR
Kurohoshi felt near to panic. The rock fall had reverberated deafeningly around the cave and he thought that the mountain Kami had burst through the tunnel as well as from the volcano vent. He was even more convinced of this when a wave of dust raced from the tunnel entrance and filled the cave with choking smog. Amongst this the strange vapour wrapped itself and coiled around his legs and lower body. He felt sure he could feel something tugging at his hakama pants and the superstitious fear began to build inside of him.
The dust started to settle, but with it new noises echoed from within the tunnel, a hacking retching sound combined with a sinister shuffling and sliding. He tried to tell himself it was his mother returning and almost called out to her, but stopped himself just in time. What if it was not her? What if it was some demon? He shivered violently and looked towards the screen. Why was there no sound from her? Why did she not move or cry out with fear? He forced himself to move towards the screen, cringing as he felt the soft tug of the vapour. He gazed down at his legs and saw thin, wisp like limbs ending in clawed hands grasping at his clothes. The tiny hooks writhed from the vapour, melted into a gaseous miasma of swirling pale orange, and regenerated someplace else to grasp once more at his legs. Within the mist he was certain he saw dark red eyes gleaming menacingly before fading as the writhing limbs did. And from the tunnel the shuffling beast drew closer.
Overcome by panic Kurohoshi pulled back the screen meaning to grab his bride and flee from the cave with her. He stopped dead as the bamboo curtain fell with a crash to the ground, his arm outstretched and then hastily pulled back. Mizuki stood motionless, her eyes were wide open but the irids were gone with only the whites glowing oddly yellow in the sickly light. She was surrounded by and wrapped in the devilish vapour that moved her thin kimono and lifted her hair whipping it around her face.
The warlord stared transfixed, his mouth open in a silent scream of horror before he finally lost his nerve completely and, as the dragging footsteps from the tunnel became unnaturally loud, he moaned aloud and fled. He ran to where a shaft of light fell from a window in the cave high on its north wall and through another tunnel that led from that point. He lashed out violently at the clutching vaporous hands that tried to pull him backwards and ignored the sudden screeching screams that rose around him. Blindly he rushed forwards feeling the warm breeze on his face where the outside air breathed though the passage and into the cave. He did not look back. He felt sure the thing in the tunnel had reached the cave now and was devouring Mizuki. He was certain if he stopped he would succumb to the same fate. All his childhood nightmares, planted by a cruel and heartless mother, were being realised within his mind. The sadistic man in him had given way to the terrified child and he fled for his life.
FORTY-FIVE
Thom staggered into the cave. His right leg hurt badly, so much so that he limped, dragging the limb behind him with an odd shuffling gait. His trousers were torn and blood stained the right leg from his mid thigh to below his knee. Grey dust clung to his face, hair and clothes and the shirt that had been white was now tattered and smeared with dirt. He stopped and gaped at the sight before him.
The cave was huge and filled with an orange churning mist of phantom spirits. They raged around the space, screaming and crying in a frenzy of anger and frustration. Ahead he saw Mizuki, her slight body surrounded by the serpent like demons whose hook like hands clawed at her skin and dress lifting it as if in a breeze, but somehow not possessing the corporeal strength to truly harm her. He gasped and felt the thrill of horror lift his hair from his scalp and course tinglingly down his spine. In all his life he had never experienced such fear, such absolute paralysing dread and for several seconds he could not move. His mouth worked wordlessly, the sweat poured from every pore on his body and his heart pounded like it might burst from his chest, killing him instantly. Then Mizuki’s sightless eyes flickered and the dark irises returned to stare at him.
“Thom,” she cried and held an arm towards him.
His paralysis broken by her plaintive cry for help, he dropped his sword and lunged forward recoiling as the spirit hands groped his body. His skin crawled with disgust and prickled as adrenalin surged through his veins and gave him the strength of will to reach the girl. As he did so a realisation broke through the terror he felt. These phantom beings could not hurt him! Their clawed hands barely buffeted his body. Either they were harmless or they had not gained sufficient power yet. His mind rationalised upon the latter, although he had no comprehension of their origin or what gave them strength. He shuddered at the thought that it might be human flesh and momentarily superstition threatened to swamp him. Pushing all thoughts from his head except the girl he rushed forwards and, pausing only briefly before her, he stuck both hands through the spirits that enveloped her.
A deafening screech burst through his head as if he had struck a mortal blow upon some wild beast and he felt the jagged scratch of claws upon his hands and arms. The shock of suddenly feeling something real, something denser than mist, that could hurt him almost made him withdraw his hands, but just when he was about to falter, Mizuki’s gaze met his. He inhaled abruptly understanding that his feelings for this young woman were much deeper than lustful desire and way beyond platonic friendship. He had not questioned coming to find her and now he realised why. Every fibre of his being wanted to be with her, to touch her and kiss her. He was filled with a longing that gnawed at his very soul and the desperate need to protect what he knew he loved gave him a courage he had never real
ised before.
Ignoring the cutting talons of the fiery spirits he grasped the girl firmly around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his body pressing herself against him and he held her tightly fearing she might be dragged away if he loosed his grip. He bent his head to her beautiful upturned face and embraced her with all the passion of a long lost lover not wanting to part his lips from hers or to let her go from his arms.
The demonic beings screamed in furious protest and writhed about them, but their stinging attacks became as ineffectual as a butterfly’s wings beating against the jar that holds it captive. For fifteen minutes the lovers held onto each other for fear of breaking the spell that protected them, while the miasmic devils remonstrated and raged until gradually the cries diminished to a soft lamenting moan and the vaporous entities faded into oblivion. As if understanding the demise of its demons the volcano roared, shaking the ground with devastating force. Thom and Mizuki were thrown to the ground, but somehow their hands remained joined. Rocks began to fall from the roof above them.
“We go now,” Mizuki cried and without questioning her Thom nodded, though he knew not where they would go. The earth shook too violently for them to stand and they could only crawl on all fours, Mizuki taking the lead towards the passage down which Kurohoshi had fled earlier. They stopped and covered their heads with their arms as debris tumbled down into the cave, then as the fall subsided, pressed onwards. As they reached the entrance to the second tunnel the tremor subsided enough to allow them to stand. Thom grimaced with pain as he dragged himself to his feet and bent to help Mizuki stand.
“Are you alright?” he asked her tenderly and kissed her once more as she nodded her affirmation.
“Where does this lead?” he queried, reluctant to enter another tunnel.
“Outside. We go outside,” she insisted and, drawing a deep breath, he took her hand in his and entered the passage.
They sank from pale light into almost complete darkness and once more Thom felt the panic rise in his stomach. Yet as they edged deeper into the passage he became aware of fresher air on his face, warm and slightly scented. He drew courage from this and, squeezing Mizuki’s hand in encouragement, increased his pace until the darkness began to give way to a soft grey light. Finally ahead of them lay an opening partly covered in green shrubbery. They slowed to a creeping walk, unsure of what lay outside and edged closer to the entrance. By now the quake had subsided to its familiar tremble and the roar of the volcano to a grumbling deep rumble.
“Wait here,” Thom said and letting go of the girl’s hand limped to the mouth of the tunnel and peered through the undergrowth. He spent some minutes listening and looking around. She had not told him that Kurohoshi had fled this way, but somehow he knew it. He saw and heard nothing and motioned that she should join him. Together they crept into the lush vegetation of the forest that grew upon the volcano’s flanks. It was lightly covered in ash, but here the fall was not as great as over the town. Thom looked skywards and saw the great column of ash had sunk lower than he remembered. From here a pale sun, sinking into the western mountains threatened to break through the cloud whose apex spread northwards. Lightening still flickered through the nebulous ejecta, but it seemed distant from where they watched. Thom realised they must have passed right through the mountain, through ancient tunnels whose origins he could only guess at. Mizuki placed her cool hand in his and smiled up at his face.
“I knew you would come,” she said and he was suddenly aware that until that moment he had not questioned her speaking his own language. He had accepted it as though it was to be expected.
“You speak Westlandish,” he stated stupidly and she laughed lightly. It was a sound that filled his heart with joy and warmth and he grinned back at her.
“Yes,” she said at last and touched a hand to his dust covered face. “Thank you,” she added.
“I love you,” he blurted, flushing as he realised how foolish he must sound. But she did not laugh. Instead she reached up and kissed his lips tenderly and laid her head against his chest clutching herself to his body.
“Yes, I know,” she whispered and closed her eyes as he brushed his cheek against the top of her head and stroked her long black hair.
“We should go from here. It not safe,” she said at last. He nodded and holding tightly to her hand began to head down hill, pushing through the dense undergrowth until they found a deer track. They turned onto the path and headed away from the looming ash cloud which rained a fine dust upon the forest around them, and towards the sinking sun.
FORTY-SIX
The little row boat was half way back to the ship when a thunderous roar made its occupants turn to stare at the mountain. Karasu and the two Samurai had dodged falling pumice and other more deadly missiles all the way from the castle back to the harbour.
Karasu was aware of the subdued mood amongst his companions. He shared some of it although he, at least, had the comforting knowledge that neither Devlin nor Mizuki were dead, yet he feared their fate. Like Thom he had wondered where Kurohoshi might be and dreaded the Kapitan running into the warlord alone. He tried to communicate with his sister, but found nothing, only emptiness and a worm of fear turned within his stomach. He sat back and listened to the distant rumble of the mountain and the steady splash of oars and watched the frigate growing closer. He thought about what Aledd would say and also Hayato. Whether there would be arguments regarding Thom’s instructions. Whether it was even worth sailing back to the bay. His head throbbed and he closed his eyes wearily and that was when the explosion rent the heavy air. Twisting rapidly to look behind him he saw a fury unleashed that he had never thought possible. For a moment the Samurai stopped rowing and all five men gazed in awestruck horror at the sight behind them.
“Hell!” one Samurai cried and began to row with renewed determination towards the ship.
On board the Orca and with the exception of a handful of men in the boiler room, most of the pirates and Samurai crew were lazily watching the volcano ashore and the little boat drawing slowly towards them. Aledd stood on the bridge and was just about to give the order to build more steam. Hayato and First Samurai Furuki waited on the main deck leaning over the rails and staring at the city smouldering under the mountain, both feeling relief at the sight of the row boat leaving the harbour. From this distance they could not tell how many were on board. Densall was showing Taku and Second Samurai Hiraiwa around the gun turret and explaining how it worked, not that he thought they understood a word he said, but they were nodding appreciatively at the obvious power of such a great weapon.
Aledd, Furuki and the young Lord Oyama saw the east flank of the volcano suddenly slump downwards and a massive blast of black ejecta exploded with tremendous violence from where the summit had been. The detonation hurt their ears causing everyone on deck and the bridge to clamp their hands to their heads and those below decks to start with an instant thrill of panic as the din vibrated and rattled around the ship’s hull.
The shock wave from the explosion hit the little rowboat sending its occupants reeling forwards and reached the frigate a second later making her rock onto her starboard beam and back, scattering sailors across her decks.
The volcano had reached the climax of its eruption, with a mighty last expulsion it emptied what remained in its magma chamber somewhere deep in the bowels of the earth and, instead of the steady outpouring of ash and pumice, a thick black plume of dense lava and surrounding solid rock ripped upwards and out of the vent. With the magma chamber empty and the gas pressure falling rapidly the eastern flank of the mountain began to collapse inwards along with the lip of the vent. As the collapse ensued the hot gases that buoyed the spewing magma into the towering column receded, the cloud flashed hideously purple and yellow as lightening streaked through its entire height and it lost its stability. With another deafening roar the eruption column began to collapse and, as the sailors and Samurai watched, a dense avalanche of hot rock and gas descended
with frightening rapidity down the flanks of the volcano and onto the city below. In front of the pyroclastic flow came an unbearable whoosh of hot air. The onlookers felt their skin burn and took refuge behind bulwarks and lifeboats.
In the row boat the occupants were hit hard by the hot gases, but being closer to the cooler water they did not feel the heat so terribly as those upon the frigate. Still they were surprised and frightened by the blast of warmth so near to burning. They raised their heads to look back at Hana-Shi-Ku and were filled with dread as they saw the churning black avalanche engulf the city, fill the harbour, overtop the harbour wall and head at awful speed towards them.
The Samurai at the oars began to row with frantic effort, while all others could do was watch and pray. The deadly flow raced headlong across the bay causing the sea to boil and spit as red hot rocks and debris sank beneath its waves and seared the surface. Karasu gripped the gunwales of the boat and stared with macabre fascination at what he felt sure was his death hurtling and sizzling towards him. He briefly wondered whether it would hurt this death, whether he would experience the agony of being burned alive. He was frozen with fear, petrified even and he opened his mouth to scream as he certainly saw the cruel and twisted blackened face of a gargantuan demon in the midst of the billowing and roaring avalanche. He heard his own voice chanting prayers to the spirit world and was aware of the fevered grunting from the oarsmen who strained every fibre of their bodies trying to pull the little boat from danger. He closed his eyes and sent a desperate message to his sister as he waited for death.
FORTY-SEVEN
Kurohoshi had run headlong into the forest and continued to run until his chest felt as if it would burst and his breath came in ragged gasps. Then he slumped against a tree and fell to the ground retching and coughing. He shuddered with a mixture of fear and exertion and lay motionless with his face in the wet leaf mould. For many minutes he did not move, but allowed his body to recover from its exertion and his mind to dare to think he was safe. Slowly he became aware of the rumble of the volcano and he rolled onto his back and stared through the canopy up at the sky.
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