Midnite's Daughter

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Thank you, my lord,” he said groggily, blood dripping from the top of his head.

  “Get back to it. The hanyou is dead, yes?”

  “No, my lord.”

  Ichitiro sat up straight in his chair. “Are you telling me that Crag failed to find her?”

  “No, master. He found her. Brought youkai with him and attacked a human settlement, just as you wisely foretold.”

  Ichitiro smiled. Ah, Crag, so stupidly predictable. If the hanyou was alive, that meant she escaped him somehow. Perhaps the storm giant was losing his touch. Too much time spent living in the trees, doing little more than picking gnats from his fur. “Did he destroy the human settlement?”

  “He tried, my lord.”

  “Tried?”

  “Indeed, he caused great damage with his powers, but it still stands.”

  Ichitiro began to grind his teeth. He was starting to get annoyed. Sadly, Crag wasn’t here to vent that annoyance on. But Ito was. “So the hanyou escaped and Crag pursued her, leaving the town standing. So be it. Where is he now and is he still hunting her?”

  “No, my lord. Crag lies dead in the human settlement. The hanyou vanquished him.”

  “What?!” Ichitiro slammed both fists down onto the arms of his throne, shattering the thick stony material, then stood up. Of all the scenarios he had planned for, this hadn’t even remotely been a consideration. Crag the hunter laid low by a mongrel hanyou? “If you are making this up, Ito, I promise your suffering shall know no end.”

  “Never, my lord,” the youkai screeched, glancing toward the door as if contemplating his chances for escape.

  Ichitiro noted to himself that if his servant was in such a panic, then perhaps he was telling the truth. “How did this happen?”

  “The Taiyosori, my lord,” Ito replied. “The hanyou wielded it against Crag and laid him low by its blade.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Ichitiro commanded Ito to recount everything he saw, down to the minute detail. For a being who had witnessed the infancy of time, who had fought the entropic chaos, and who had battled myriad creatures on countless worlds, the daimao still found himself utterly stupefied by what he heard.

  Much of the Taiyosori’s history was shrouded in mystery, even to him, but so far as he was aware, nothing short of a god had ever wielded it in battle. Though Midnite was given possession of it, he had never actually seen her use it in anger. He had barely seen her wield it at all, aside from occasionally handling it to remind her siblings of its true ownership.

  For a filthy half-demon to touch it and live was unthinkable, but for such a lowly creature to wield the weapon was almost beyond even his ability to grasp.

  Wielding was not the same as mastering, though, he considered. Perhaps the girl’s blood, some small morsel of divinity inside her that remained untainted, had somehow fooled the Taiyosori. Ito had said the girl resembled her mother. Was it possible this connection managed to temporarily confuse the legendary blade of a thousand cuts? According to Ito, the girl had not wielded it for long. She’d simply lopped Crag’s head off, a relatively easy task for a weapon rumored to be the sharpest edge in all of creation. All it required was an arm to swing it.

  Yes, that had to be it. The hanyou wielded the Taiyosori, but she was not its true master. A quirk of her loathsome birth, that was all.

  Once again, Ichitiro sensed opportunity. Before him lay the chance he had waited eons for.

  If the Taiyosori was confused, fooled into thinking the hanyou was Midnite, then if someone were to slay the hanyou and claim the blade, the right of transference would be fulfilled. He would be acknowledged as the sword’s new master, and the blade of a thousand cuts would sit fallow no longer. It would taste blood, bathe in it, as it had not done in ages untold.

  He looked down and smiled at where Ito continued to cower. The youkai had done well after all. Ichitiro would not compliment him for it, or even acknowledge such, but he would allow the pathetic beast to survive this day with no further suffering. If anything, he now had far more important matters to worry about than the thieving little rodent.

  The time for inaction was over. It was now time for...

  There came a booming knock from his outer chamber door.

  Who?

  For a moment, paranoia set in. Though he’d barely just made them, Ichitiro became certain that his plans had been found out, that the other daimao knew what he was plotting. But he quickly dismissed it as a mere side effect of his ultimate victory being so near. So what if the others had found out? He hadn’t acted yet. And even if he had, none of them, not even Midnite herself, would choose an untouchable hanyou over him.

  He gestured for Ito to answer the door and the little ferret youkai obeyed without hesitation. As he did so, Ichitiro spared a glance down at the floor. The monkey youkai had been removed by his other servants. Not so much as a drop of blood remained.

  He smiled, but it quickly turned into a grimace as he spied a massive, red-skinned oni standing at the door.

  Whereas most daimao used the small youkai of the castle as their heralds, Reiden insisted on keeping this loathsome troll in his employ. As strong as they were stupid, oni were often best put to use as shock troops in the field. Their massive forms and tendency to ignore pain until they were killed made them excellent cannon fodder.

  Ichitiro often wondered if Reiden used it in a sad attempt to intimidate others. If so, this gambit failed where he was concerned. “What is it, Klortho?” he asked in a bored tone.

  The towering oni entered and bowed its ungainly form before Ichitiro. “Lord Reiden requests your presence in the council chamber,” he answered in a gruff voice. “He wishes to reconvene the court to continue discussing the matter of Earth.”

  “I am busy.”

  “Lord Reiden requests your presence in the council chamber,” Klortho repeated.

  Ichitiro’s good mood evaporated in an instant. He knew the lumbering clod would keep at it no matter what he or the others said. Perhaps that was the true reason Reiden used him. Oni obeyed without question and were near impossible to bargain with. The brute would stand there until such time as his master’s demands were acknowledged. As much as Ichitiro might want to reduce him to a pile of steaming guts, it would only incite Reiden’s wrath.

  He did not particularly fear his brother, but Reiden led the celestial court, and his edicts could serve to make Ichitiro’s plans difficult.

  Fortunately, he knew how his elder brother operated. Everything he did was dictated by procedure and debate. It was a wonder he ever left his chambers at all without first convening a caucus to discuss the matter.

  “Very well,” Ichitiro said. “Tell your master I will be there in short order. I have a small issue to attend to, though. Have him start without me.”

  Klortho appeared to ponder this in his mudball of a brain for a moment or two. Finally, he nodded. “I will tell my master.” With no further business, the large oni bowed, turned, and left without so much as another word.

  Excellent! It wasn’t unheard of for members of the court to be late, or not show up at all, though they risked forfeiting their say in matters. At the very least, they would earn themselves a tiresome lecture on the need for keeping order in the multiverse and how that order stemmed from what they did.

  He’d heard it all before but was beyond such concerns now.

  By the time Reiden’s impotent session got underway, Ichitiro would be paying a visit to Earth. He would not be able to mask his departure from his siblings. Even if he used one of his crystals to make the journey, the passage of his immense power signature would still be felt. He was connected to this place, as were all of his brethren. However, he could throw them off his scent by traveling to a different location immediately. His departure from the celestial palace could be sensed, but once on Earth, it would be far more difficult for them to track him, at least until he unleashed a significant portion of his power – something he si
ncerely doubted would be necessary.

  Yes, that was the ticket. Even once they sensed he was gone, there would be plenty of time. Reiden would wish to discuss the matter rather than pursue him. That could take hours, days, perhaps even years.

  It was quite possible that, in the time it took his brother to reach a consensus among the others, Ichitiro would have already retrieved the Taiyosori and returned to claim his rightful place as ruler of the universe.

  36

  The hours following the battle were an exercise in chaos. There were deaths to be mourned, lives to be celebrated, and much cleanup that needed to be done. In the midst of it all, images from Beth Billingsly’s news report had leaked to something Kisaki’s friends called the internet. This resulted in multiple news teams converging upon the once quiet town, making the tasks which needed to be performed that much more difficult.

  The police wanted to speak at length to the heroes of the Battle of the Beasts, as it was being touted. A strange name, Kisaki considered, as she was no beast. Neither were youkai, if one were to be truly honest about it.

  The problem was the dozens of reporters who wanted to interview her and her friends.

  The number of outsiders converging upon the tiny police station proved to be more than their remaining forces could handle. Outside help was being sought. In the meantime, the acting chief – taking pity on Kisaki and her friends – had sent them to Bob’s, a small diner in the middle of town. The owner, a volunteer in the town’s fire department, agreed to put out the closed sign to allow them a safe haven as well as fix them some lunch. In return, Stephen had pledged that none of them would try to leave town until such time as this matter was settled, something driven home by the acting captain reminding him that he knew his parents.

  Stephen was currently in the bathroom. Shitoro had joined him, saying that he, too, needed a bath. Stephen had tried to dissuade him of that notion, but the little tiger demon dismissed his opinion on the subject as the ramblings of a foolish human.

  “So what do you think of him?”

  Kisaki looked up at Tamiko from where she’d been sipping her milkshake. Whatever the name, she found it delightful. If they had drinks such as these in the celestial palace, she might have never sought to leave. “Shitoro?”

  “No,” Tamiko said, lowering her voice. “Steve.”

  Kisaki picked up a French fry and dipped it in a sauce known as ketchup before taking a bite, savoring the dichotomy of salty and sweet on her tongue. “I think Stephen acted very bravely today. He’s far more courageous than he believes. If only he understood that, he would have certainly dealt with Robbie long ago.”

  “That isn’t quite what I meant.” Tamiko leaned in closer and lowered her voice even further. Her cheeks had turned pink again, making Kisaki wonder if there was some temperature differential that she was unable to sense. When her friend spoke again, it was in Japanese. “I meant, do you think he’s cute?”

  “Why have you switched languages?”

  “Because I don’t want him overhearing us, that’s why.”

  “Who?”

  “Stephen, of course. Now what do you think of him? Cute or not?”

  “Cute? As in like a small furry animal?”

  “As in handsome.”

  “Ah!” Kisaki brightened as she’d found herself considering the same thing. She remembered how her father looked in the photos and in the vision she had of him. There was something appealing about his appearance. He had a brave, rugged manner about him, not unlike the warriors she used to enjoy reading about. He would not have looked out of place wearing armor and wielding a sword.

  Though she would never dare pretend to understand her mother’s thoughts on such a matter, she could understand how one could have fallen for such a man. Stephen was different, yet not in a bad way. Though he shared some of his great-grandfather’s features, they were softer on him, less severe. He looked more the scholar than a warrior, although Kisaki had seen the fire in his eyes when he’d wielded his shotgun.

  Despite her fascination with warriors of the past, she found that combination – his gentle nature mixed with his bravery – surprisingly appealing.

  “I have given that some thought, and I do believe he is handsome indeed. Mind you, I have little to base that on since the vast majority of my interactions over the course of my life have been with either my mother or Shitoro. However, I cannot help but look at him and feel an odd warmth inside me.”

  “In a sisterly way, though, right?”

  “Sisterly? He’s not my sister and I am not his. I do not have a sister, so far as I’m aware, so I don’t know how I might feel toward one.”

  “Well, then maybe how you feel about your mother?”

  Kisaki considered that. She had always respected her mother, but beneath that respect had been an unpleasant veneer that she tried not to dwell upon. But the last few days had been an awakening for her, one which had forced her to expand her horizons considerably. She now understood those feelings for what they had been: resentment. She had felt like a caged animal, one that was now free. However, that resentment had since been tempered by what Shitoro had told her.

  She’d thought her mother’s actions to be ... cruel wasn’t the word. After all, Kisaki had wanted for nothing. Mystifying, infuriating perhaps? All of it added up to a cornucopia of feelings. But she now knew these things had been done to keep her safe.

  She just wished that she’d been told a long time ago. If so, things might have turned out differently. She might not be sitting here eating French fries while the town around her dealt with the fallout from a deadly battle.

  But then, she would have never met Tamiko and Stephen either. She might not have ever realized there was more to her than long hours of boring study. She might never have learned about her father.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Tamiko asked.

  “Hmm? No. Shitoro is still elsewhere, presumably bathing.”

  “It’s an American phrase, I think. It means you were being quiet.”

  “My apologies. I was lost in thought. There’s been so many new developments in my life and so quickly that it’s a bit overwhelming.”

  “Believe me, I understand.” Tamiko took a long pull on her soda. “I figured today would be spent doing more paperwork for my dad. I definitely didn’t imagine I’d be taking an unexpected holiday to fight monsters in Pennsylvania.”

  Kisaki nodded. She understood, especially since she was the cause for Tamiko’s unexpected travels. “To answer your question, no. I do not consider him to be like my mother. In fact, I believe it is quite different.”

  “You don’t like him, do you?”

  “Of course I like him.”

  “I mean like him.” Kisaki shrugged, not understanding, so Tamiko clarified. “I mean, like a boyfriend.”

  “You mean as a mate?”

  “Um, maybe not quite that far, but yeah, sort of.”

  Kisaki considered this for a few moments, mindful that their companions would most likely be returning shortly. She suddenly realized she didn’t want them overhearing this conversation either, especially Stephen. She didn’t fully understand why but suspected it might have to do with what Tamiko was asking her. Finally, she said, “He does appear to have several desirable qualities.”

  “Gross!”

  “You find him gross?”

  “No. I mean, you guys. You’re his great-aunt.”

  “So?”

  “So that would almost be like you marrying your brother.”

  “But he is not my brother,” Kisaki pointed out. “Besides, such pairings are quite common among youkai. Divine blood mixes best with blood of a similar caliber, or so I have been taught in my studies.”

  “That’s just ... wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s weird.”

  “So you’re saying you do not find Stephen desirable as a mate?”

  “No! I... it’s ju
st...” Tamiko’s face turned bright red as she tried to sputter out an answer.

  Kisaki was new to this, but some instinct told her that her friend did indeed find Stephen desirable as a mate, or boyfriend, as she put it. She didn’t expect to feel anything negative at this revelation but was surprised when she did. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to how she’d felt when she saw her servants free to come and go while she was not.

  It was an unwelcome feeling. After all, Tamiko was her friend. But it was a feeling that persisted nevertheless, despite being unwelcome. That Tamiko had stopped talking made her wonder if she was feeling the same thing.

  After several tense moments of silence, Tamiko said, “This is silly.”

  “Yes,” Kisaki replied with a smile. “Definitely silly.”

  “I mean, we just met him. I have to get back to Ishigachi and you need to ... oh, I’m sorry.” She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I forgot what’s waiting for you.”

  “It’s all right. You are correct.” She turned and looked out the window. The street beyond was quiet, this section of town being relatively untouched by the battle. “My outing to Earth has caused far more chaos than I ever intended, but it has also given me memories which I will always cherish.” She reached over and took Tamiko’s hand.

  “Me too.”

  “Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Stephen asked, walking back. He took a seat next to Tamiko. Kisaki felt a quick stab of jealousy but pushed it back down. “Not talking about me, are you?”

  “What?!” Tamiko replied, quickly switching back to English. “I mean, of course not. No, we weren’t talking about you, were we, Kisaki?”

  “But you said ... ow!” Tamiko kicked her under the table. She was about to question why, but then she saw the pleading look on her friend’s face and understood. “I meant, no. You are not a topic worthy of conversation.”

  “Okay then,” Stephen replied, looking confused for a moment before reaching for his own drink.

  “Where’s Shitoro?”