Fire blasted through the trees. She couldn’t see what was happening as smoke billowed and shadows surged like waves through the valley.
Standing alone at the far edge of the clearing, she rubbed a hand over her face to erase her tears. Darkness writhed and another torrent of wild flame tore through the forest. In the flash of light, the white beast, tails lashing, darted around a glowing spot—Izanagi. The shadow of a serpentine form swept past, lightning crackling over dark scales. Izanagi had never been defeated. Could two Kunitsukami survive him, let alone win?
Hands clenched at her sides, she scanned the trees. Where was Yumei?
As though in answer, the darkness pooled over the clearing, stealing her view of the battle in the trees. In a ripple of red light, the great raven appeared out of the roiling black, taking form almost directly above her. Wings spread, he dropped and shadows siphoned off him as his form shrank.
Yumei completed his shift to his winged human form as he landed. On impact, he fell to his knees, two of Izanagi’s javelins protruding from his body.
Emi lurched to his side and grabbed his arm, pulling him straight before he fell over. Heat from the javelins scorched her. One was sunk deep in his lower stomach and the other had speared the back of his upper thigh, the point jutting out the front of his leg.
“Yumei,” she choked, crouching beside him despite the suffocating heat radiating from the weapons.
He was panting, and pain twisted his normally impassive features. Baring his teeth, he braced himself and grabbed the javelin sticking out of his thigh. With the reek of charring flesh, he pulled the haft through his leg. The moment it was free, he flung it away. It hit the ground and rolled, strangely soundless.
She clutched his arm as he listed sideways, wings dragging. He braced himself a second time, but when he reached for the remaining javelin with a blistered, blackened hand, she snatched his wrist.
“You can’t pull that one out.” She clutched his arm. “They have hooked ends.”
If he pulled it out, it would tear his innards out with it. The only other option was to push it the rest of the way through his body, cutting through organs and flesh, and she didn’t know if he could survive much more damage.
“Only way,” he grunted, shrugging off her hand.
The spear he’d already removed flickered, the autumn leaves beneath it black and smoking. It hadn’t made any noise when it hit the ground because it was a weapon formed entirely of elemental power and ki. With an unsteady hand, she withdrew a purification talisman from her sleeve.
His eyes focused on her through his pain. “Don’t touch—”
She pushed the ofuda against the haft of the spear.
Raging heat tore into her hand and agony squeezed her lungs. She couldn’t move, could barely think through the devastating pain.
“Shukusei no tama!” The words burst out of her in an agonized scream. Heat ignited in her chest, her ki leaping to her command. Power surged down her arm and the searing incandescence faltered. In a blaze of light, the javelin dissolved into a shower of sparks.
She fell backward, landing on her rump. As Yumei sagged, one hand squeezing the hole in his gut, she clutched her wrist. Her palm felt like it was on fire. When she looked at the damage, lightheadedness swept through her.
Scrunching her eyes shut, she focused on Amaterasu’s power inside her. As she had once done in Orochi’s forest, she channeled the warmth into her injury, pushing more and more power into it, until her hand was burning all over again. Agony raked her flesh as the wound healed. Finally, the pain faded.
A deafening explosion rattled the earth. As her eyes flew open, Yumei lunged forward and pushed her to the ground, shielding her. Carried on a sweltering wave, a wall of flaming debris blasted over them. Yumei pushed himself up and yanked a foot-long splinter of wood from his shoulder. Breathing hard, Emi scoured the trees where the three gods battled. Smoke had turned the world gray but for the flicker of flames.
Grabbing her arm, Yumei hauled her up and pulled her with him, his steps heavy and unsteady.
“Saburo fled into Tsuchi with the spear,” he said hoarsely, leading her toward the stump of his destroyed home. “It should not be in Tsuchi.”
“Why not?” she asked, winded and still trembling from the recent pain. “Izanagi can’t go into Tsuchi.”
“Power calls to power.” He reached the stump and swung toward the fallen tree. “The spear will awaken the darkest magics of Tsuchi. If they feed each other, it will—” He shook his head. “You need to bring Nuboko back.”
Alarm flashed through her. “Me?”
He stopped in front of the trunk, its width more than twice his height. Heedless of his burns, he pressed his hand to the bark. Red light spun out from his palm, snaking across the trunk in spiraling patterns until it had spread into the shape of a rough doorway. The bark within dissolved into deep, impenetrable darkness.
“She is injured and probably not far.” He turned to her as his expression iced over. “Her wellbeing is not your concern. Your task is to retrieve the spear—only the spear.”
“But I can’t—”
“You will need to be swift.” He brought his left wrist to his mouth and bit down, tearing the skin with his canines until blood ran, then swept his fingers through the crimson flow. Grabbing her chin, he held her head still and touched a bloodied fingertip to her cheek. Cold magic crawled into her flesh as he drew some kind of symbol on her skin.
Releasing her, he cupped his hands together. Darkness bubbled above his palms and expanded outward, darkening until it took the form of a three-eyed shadow raven. He cast it into the air and it hovered on unmoving wings.
“This will guide you to Saburo. Follow it. Do not deviate. The mark in my blood will disguise your kami ki from Tsuchi, but not for long. You must be quick.”
“But Yumei, I can’t go into Tsuchi alone.” She grabbed his sleeve. “Come with me.”
“I cannot leave Susano and Inari. Even our combined strength is not enough to guarantee victory. You must do this.” He took her shoulders and spun her to face the dark portal. “Go, Emi.”
“Yumei—”
He extended one hand and darkness rippled up and down in long lines from his palm. It solidified into his deadly black spear. He pushed it at her and her fingers reflexively closed around the cool, heavy haft.
“Take this. It is no use against Izanagi.”
“But—”
The ground quaked and golden light exploded through the valley.
“Go!” With that final, urgent command, he shoved her into the dark doorway.
Sight and sound vanished as alien magic slid over her skin. A cold touch whispered across her cheek, tasting the Tengu’s blood. A pulse of recognition rippled through the darkness as she stumbled forward.
Snow crunched underfoot, and then the darkness lifted. All around, trees cloaked in shadows towered over her, the pristine snow painted in shades of gray and blue by faint daylight. The air shivered and shifted in subtle currents. It tasted wrong. It smelled wrong. The shadows were too dark, too dense.
Clutching Yumei’s spear in both hands, she stood alone in the spirit realm of yokai.
Chapter 18
The shadow raven ghosted ahead on silent, outstretched wings. Emi followed in a stop-and-start jog, carrying Yumei’s spear with the heavy haft resting on her shoulder. Though it was afternoon here as well as in the earthly realm, a murky gloom dominated the faint sunlight and the shadows lurking among the trees shifted and rippled in her peripheral vision. The unnatural chill tasted of hostility, and she couldn’t convince herself it was just her imagination.
The raven swept between two spruce trees, and Emi rushed after it. The branches snatched at her long sleeves and her foot caught on a root beneath the snow. Jerking free of the boughs, she stumbled away. She had thought there was a perfectly passable space between the trunks.
Trotting after the ghostly raven, she scanned the woods for signs of life, her b
reath fogging the air in front of her. She had to hurry. She had to get the spear from Saburo and return as quickly as possible. Shiro, Susano, and Yumei were fighting for their lives.
She passed through another tangle of underbrush that seemed to thicken as she pushed into it. Panting, she tore free and rushed to catch up with the raven. The crisp winter scent carried an undertone of rot, and in the distance, the bare, skeletal branches flickered with blue light.
Her pulse quickened as the raven led her closer. Dozens of blue spheres danced among the trees, rising and falling in random patterns. She clutched Yumei’s spear and peered nervously at the nearest bobbing light.
In a soundless rush, a glowing orb dropped from the bough in front of her. Hanging from a long, fire-like tail, the spherical base rippled, and within the azure light, the creased face of an old man appeared.
Choking on a scream, she jumped back and swung Yumei’s spear around to point the blade at the luminous yokai. Another one dropped from the nearby branches and bounced as a face took shape in it as well. Then a third and a fourth dipped down, encircling her.
She glanced around, then faced the creature in front of her. It wasn’t attacking. It wasn’t doing anything except … waiting? But for what? With effort, she relaxed her grip on the spear and praying she wasn’t making a mistake, she leaned forward in a polite bow.
The spirit yokai tilted its face downward in an answering bow. With a final bounce, it snapped up into its tree. The other spirits followed, rising back into the forest canopy. She exhaled and started forward again. It seemed, as she’d suspected, that acknowledgement was all they had wanted.
The shadows deepened as the raven led her into even denser forest. The snow on the ground thinned until bare patches of earth interspersed the shallow drifts. She panted as a stitch stabbed at her side. She’d taken to circling the trees, no longer convinced she was imagining the gaps between them closing and the branches snatching at her. How much farther had Saburo gone? As Emi had seen during her last visit to this realm, distances here could be deceiving.
The babble of water grew in her ears. Cutting through the forest, a wide creek rushed past, the dark water swirling with a forceful current. She stopped a dozen yards away. The creek was ten feet across, the water dark, the depth unknown. She couldn’t jump across it and there was no bridge.
The shadow raven flew across the creek and stopped on the other side, waiting for her. She had to cross it? She had to walk into that dark water? In the back of her head, she could hear Hana screaming as the kappa dragged her beneath the surface. She could feel its claws in her ankle, pulling her deeper into the churning current. She could feel Hana’s hand in hers, clutching her tightly.
Gripping Yumei’s spear, Emi crept toward the bank. The gurgling current drove into her skull. She hated that sound.
When she was close enough to see flashes of her reflection in the rippling water, she stopped. No. She couldn’t walk into that black water.
Stepping back, she looked up and down the bank. Fifty yards downstream, a fat oak tree with sprawling branches grew almost on the water’s edge. One low, thick bough spanned the width of the creek. Biting her lip, she glanced at the shadow raven waiting for her, then back at the oak. It wasn’t far. A quick detour so she could safely cross the water.
She sprinted for the oak, the creek rushing alongside her, and wasted no time in heaving herself onto the low bough. Crouching, she began inching across it, the spear in one hand and the other braced on the rough bark. The branch dipped with her cautious steps, but otherwise supported her weight. As the ground turned to water beneath the bough, fear almost overwhelmed her, but she pushed onward.
The oak branches creaked.
She paused and glanced at the tapestry of twisting limbs. The boughs groaned as though shifting in a strong wind, but the air was still. Her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. She was halfway there. Just a few more feet.
The water splashed. She looked at the dark, churning water rushing by tirelessly. There was nothing there. She must have imagined the splash. She could see nothing unusual, nothing—
Beneath the surface, a pale face appeared, its wide mouth twisted in a leer.
She jerked back involuntarily, scrabbling at the bark. Just as she caught her balance, the entire bough heaved—and threw her off.
She fell with a scream. Icy cold water engulfed her as she plunged beneath the surface, and the current shoved her downstream. Blind and disoriented and clutching Yumei’s spear like a lifeline, she flailed for the surface.
Slicing pain cut through her skin as small, powerful hands grabbed her arms and dragged her down. Her back hit the rocky bottom.
Panic detonated inside her head, and she writhed in a wild frenzy, kicking out and jerking her arms. In her mind, she screamed for the wind to save her. Her attackers clung to her, pushing her into the creek bed.
Through her panic, a small voice whispered: This is how Hana died. Exactly like this.
Denial cut through her. She wouldn’t die like this. She couldn’t. Her kami wind magic didn’t work in this realm of yokai, but that wasn’t her only power.
Shukusei no tama, she cried silently.
Warm ki surged through her icy limbs as the purification magic swept out of her. The crushing hands released her limbs. She pulled her legs in, planted her feet on the creek bottom, and launched upward.
Her head broke the surface and the arctic air burned her face. Bracing against the pounding current, surprised the water was barely waist deep, she gasped in a breath and lunged for the bank.
A scaled head popped out of the water, pointed ears dripping and greenish skin gleaming wetly. The kappa leered at her, then sprang out of the water and slammed into her chest.
She went over backward, tumbling beneath the surface. The yokai again dragged her down, their claws raking her skin.
Shukusei no tama, she shouted in her head.
With a flash of heat, the purification incantation drove the kappa off her. She lurched for the surface but they seized the long sleeves of her kimono and yanked her back. She floundered, her incantation useless unless they were touching her. Her lungs strained with the fierce need to breathe.
She remembered Yumei’s spear, still clutched in her hand, and thrust it out blindly, unsure which end was which. The weapon connected with something and the weight on her left sleeve disappeared. She vaulted upward and her face burst out of the water.
An unseen kappa wrenched on the spear, almost tearing it from her hand. She jerked it back and lifted it, finding the blade. As yokai tore at the leg of her hakama, nearly pulling her over, she rammed the blade into the water.
A sickening sensation shuddered up the haft: the feel of the spearhead striking something, then sliding into it. All the pulling hands and scraping claws vanished.
She waded for the bank and slipped in the mud as she scrambled onto it. Whimpering with terror, she whipped around to face the creek, holding the spear with the blade aimed at the dark water.
The current swirled past, undisturbed. No faces, green heads, or leering fangs appeared. Shivering violently, she waited a few seconds more, then bolted up the bank for the shadow raven waiting fifty yards away. It swept back into motion, leading her away from the creek.
Panting, she tried to control her shivering. Water dripped from her clothes and blood stained her white kimono. Shallow scratches and a few deep slices marred her arms and legs. The stinging pain competed with the ache in her throat and lungs, but she ignored it all and trudged onward. How much time had she wasted?
As she walked, the feeling of hostility grew. The creeping shadows darkened, and branches creaked and groaned in a nonexistent wind. In front of her, the shadow raven rippled. Its form wavered.
And then it dissolved into nothing.
Emi froze, staring at the spot where the raven had been. Why was it gone? There was no sign of life in the forest around her and no indication that Saburo was nearby or had passed this way.
She gripped Yumei’s spear even tighter. Why had the raven vanished? How was she supposed to find Saburo without it? How was she supposed to find her way back? Yumei had promised the raven would lead her! Why would he let it vanish like that?
The memory of the javelins of light protruding from Yumei’s body flashed through her mind. What if he was too badly hurt to maintain the shadow magic? He knew she was depending on the raven to guide her. He wouldn’t let it fail unless … unless …
Panic iced her thoughts and she spun around, half intending to run back the way she’d come. If Yumei was hurt … then what about Shiro? Was he still alive? Was he still fighting? She reeled forward a step before realizing the shadows in the trees ahead were too solid to be mere darkness.
“That spear …” A female voice drifted out of the gloom. “… does not belong to you.”
The woman stood casually with one hand on her hip, but her posture was too stiff for the pose to look natural. Her long black hair was tied in a high ponytail, bangs cut in a straight, severe line just above her almond-shaped eyes. Her dark kimono and hakama were similar to the garments Emi had seen in Yumei’s memory, and two swords were sheathed at her hip. She did not appear to be carrying a spear.
Saburo’s gaze slid down Emi and back up again. “How did a human come to walk in Tsuchi?”
“Yumei sent me to—”
“Yumei?” the woman interrupted. She smiled, its subtle threat chilling Emi. “How casually you speak the name of the Tengu with your foul human tongue.”
Emi raised her chin. “He doesn’t have a problem with me using his name.”
Saburo tapped a finger against her cheek. “You are a lying wench.” The words didn’t fit her pleasant tone. “You have no right to touch that weapon.”
The daitengu stepped closer, and her rigid movements confirmed she was hiding injuries. Despite that, Saburo placed a hand lightly on the hilt of her katana. “Give me the spear and I might spare your life.”
Emi turned the weapon in her hands, holding it in the guard position Shiro had taught her, and hoped she looked competent. “If you had the strength to take it from me, you would have done exactly that.”
Immortal Fire (The Red Winter Trilogy Book 3) Page 17
