This impossible pocket of magic within the belly of the great mountain could only be the heart of the world that Amaterasu had described.
Izanagi strolled out of the torii after Emi. He pushed her ahead of him down the rocky steps that descended toward the meadow, and she forced her numb legs into motion. In the distance to her right, another red torii sat against the cavern’s solid rock walls.
The wind gate, a familiar voice whispered inside her head.
Emi stumbled. Amaterasu!
You have gambled much, Emi. Emotions roiled through the goddess’s presence. Let us hope Inari’s luck is with us all tonight.
Aware that Izanagi was watching her, Emi glanced again at the wind gate, then at the red torii dancing with golden light that she’d come through. That must be the sun gate, meaning there were six other gates positioned around the outer edges of the circular cavern.
What happened? Emi asked. Why did you disappear?
I was attacked. Anger spiraled through Amaterasu. The delay was well timed. If I attempt to descend in his presence, Izanagi will kill you. I must wait.
Emi clenched her hands as she walked ahead of Izanagi across the meadow, forging a trail through the waist-high grass. As they crossed several shallow streams that wound lazily eastward, she fidgeted, wondering why Izanagi seemed content to walk when he could travel much faster.
He is conserving his strength, Amaterasu told her. Within the heart of the world, elemental magic is limited, and what we can wield will exact a heavy toll. For that reason, the Kunitsukami considered this an ideal battlefield to bring down Izanagi. A flutter of apprehension. They should be here already. What are they waiting for?
If the Kunitsukami had planned to stop Izanami before she opened the Bridge, shouldn’t they have already been here, battling her? Emi had seen signs of a distant skirmish outside—the fire on the mountainside, the storm above—but here, all was ominously quiet.
Even at the brisk pace Izanagi had set, thirty minutes passed before they reached the base of the mountain-like ridge where a rough trail led upward. They climbed the steep path, and even as fear slid like ice through her veins, she couldn’t help her growing wonder. The higher the path carried her, the more of the secret world was revealed.
The waterfalls pouring from the rocks in the west branched into snaking streams that meandered through a dense, ancient forest and wound across the meadow. She couldn’t see the northern quadrant of the cavern, but in the east, the waterfalls met open crevices from which a slow, ever-shifting current of lava boiled. Steam poured from the fissures and billowed toward the northeast, where distant flashes of lightning arced amidst the plumes of steam.
Reaching the mountain peak, she climbed onto a plateau bathed in silvery light. Formed of flat rock and patches of fine gravel, it stretched half a mile, and in its center, over a dozen figures stood in a rough circle.
Izanagi joined Emi on the plateau and grasped her arm, his skin searing hot even through her sleeve.
“Behave, kamigakari,” he rumbled.
He steered her toward the waiting kami. They passed between two vassals, and in the open space beyond, Izanami watched their approach. Emi hadn’t seen Izanami since their battle at the Shirayuri Shrine. The goddess’s glossy black hair fell below her knees, bound in regular intervals by golden ties. Her dark kimono flowed around her, beautiful and elegant. When she regarded Izanagi, her stunning face exuded otherworldly beauty.
Yet her dark eyes were cold, so very cold.
She stood in a massive marugata carved into the stone, the outline glowing white. Symbols marked the interior of the circle, and three small porcelain bowls sat upon strange runes spaced equally apart within the outer ring. In the center, the heavenly spear, its broken haft replaced, stood with its end embedded in the rock. The crystalline spearhead glittered in the moonlight.
“The hour grows late.” Steel lined Izanami’s soft voice. “The Kunitsukami are slaughtering our vassals upon the mountain.”
“We have what we need,” Izanagi replied, unconcerned. “And you may proceed without interruption, sister. The battle on the mountainside is a mere distraction. The Kunitsukami cannot enter.”
Emi’s heart stuttered painfully. The Kunitsukami couldn’t enter at all?
They should be able to open their gates, Amaterasu whispered urgently. Izanagi must have found a way to prevent their entry.
Emi’s breath came too fast and dizziness rushed through her head. She had to stop this. She couldn’t let them open the Bridge, not without the Kunitsukami. Why had she come here?
“We will begin,” Izanami told her brother.
Izanagi dragged Emi into the stone marugata, and there was nothing she could do as he positioned her in front of one of the bowls on the rock. Pulling a short dagger from a hidden sheath in his sleeve, he grabbed her wrist and pierced the center of her palm, cutting much deeper than she had during the ceremony in the shrine.
She gasped as blood pooled. He turned her hand over and crimson droplets splattered in the bowl. Once blood had covered the porcelain, he released her arm.
Leaving her where she stood, Izanagi strode to the second bowl and Izanami stepped up to the third, a dagger in hand. As the siblings simultaneously cut their palms, Emi backed toward the circle’s edge. Blood fell into the two bowls and the light emanating from the marugata intensified, shining brighter than the moonlight refracting through the veins of crystal above.
Hands gripped her arms and a kami vassal yanked her out of the circle. She didn’t know whether he intended to restrain her or kill her, but she didn’t wait to find out.
“Sotei no shinketsu,” she hissed.
Shimmering light snapped over the kami, immobilizing him. She wrenched free from his grip and as the nearest kami whirled toward her, she bolted away from the circle. Not looking back toward the crunching footsteps of multiple pursuers, she raced for the plateau’s edge—and leaped off.
Amaterasu’s power surged. The wind caught her, almost too weak to control her fall. She hit the steep mountainside and slid on loose shale, her heavy kimono pulling her off balance. Short, controlled gusts buffeted her, and she stretched her gait into a run, almost flying down the mountain.
Three-quarters of the way down the slope, she slowed to catch her balance. Without the howling wind, the sound of skittering gravel reached her and she glanced back to see three kami rushing along the steep path. Izanagi, though, was not among them.
Emi launched back into a sprint down the final stretch of rocky terrain and into the long grass of the meadow. Ahead of her, the red lava lit the billowing clouds of steam. Somewhere among the mist was the fire gate. She had to undo whatever Izanagi had done to block it.
Her lungs burned but she dared not slow. A narrow streambed only a few inches deep cut through the grass and she splashed through the water toward the eastern edge of the cavern. As the minutes passed, heat clogged her lungs and perspiration dampened her face.
The grass withered and turned brown, and then she was running on black volcanic rock. Slowing to a jog, she headed into the plumes of steam. The stream burbled next to her, then cut sharply away and poured into a crevice that emitted a hellish red glow. The deeper into the blackened earth she ventured, the hotter it grew, until the air rippled eerily. Steam and smoke, reeking of sulfur, scorched her nose and throat.
Then, through watering eyes, she saw it: the fire gate.
The torii rose against the cavern wall, accessed by a narrow pathway of hardened lava with steaming chasms on both sides. Four thick shimenawa ropes, covered in glowing ofuda, spanned the gate’s opening.
Clutching a stitch in her ribs, Emi approached the torii and pulled the jade knife from her obi.
As steam hissed menacingly, she glanced back but saw nothing through the haze. The three kami pursuing her had to be near. She pressed the blade to the nearest rope and warning light flickered over the shimenawa.
“Shukusei no tama,” she chanted as she dug the knif
e in. Shining with her ki, it severed the first strands of the woven rope. She sawed back and forth, and the shimenawa snapped. Faint flames rippled across the torii.
She pushed the knife against the second rope. “Shukusei no tama!”
It broke. She started on the third one, sawing forcefully, and it parted beneath the knife.
“Shukusei no tama!” She dragged the blade over the final shimenawa, focusing more of her ki into it. The rope frayed, then broke. Translucent flames whooshed over the fire gate as its power returned, and the cavern wall beyond it turned to deep, impenetrable darkness.
Shoving the knife back in her obi, Emi spun around as the silhouettes of three figures charged up the narrow pathway through the steam. Praying the kami wouldn’t follow, she flung herself into the darkness within the torii.
Oblivion surrounded her. She ran eight strides and on the ninth, light and sound burst to life around her—and the ground vanished.
She plummeted with a shocked scream.
In a rush of Amaterasu’s power, the wind swirled beneath her, slowing her fall. She landed on a narrow outcropping of rock on the mountainside, a sheer cliff at her back.
Upon the sprawling slopes of the summit, the gods of heaven and earth waged war.
Chapter 26
Flames roared through the forest that covered the lower half of the immense slope. Dense smoke, stained with crimson light, streamed from the burning woods, and lightning rippled across the sky, jumping through the clustered clouds and blazing past the moon’s pale face.
A huge bird wheeled above the inferno, scarlet tail feathers trailing fire. It snapped its dark beak at a pair of golden shikigami as they bombarded the avian yokai. Elsewhere in the darkness and flame, flashes of light revealed more conflict.
Emi pressed her back against the cliff. How many kami and shikigami had Izanami and Izanagi set upon this mountain to delay and destroy the yokai? And how was she supposed to find Shiro and the other Kunitsukami among the devastating violence?
From out of the thick smoke, three giant ravens sped past the eagle-like yokai. They swooped around a golden shikigami, darkness flashing off their wings to engulf it. At the same time, the red bird whirled on their second foe and grabbed it with flaming claws, tearing through the talisman in its center. The other shikigami broke through the darkness cast upon it by the ravens, and the red eagle dove after it.
Before Emi could figure out how to hail her allies, a raven veered away from the other two and swept toward her. In a ripple of black magic, it shrank into its winged human form.
“Kamigakari!” The daitengu landed beside her on the rocky ledge. “Where in Yomi did you come from?”
She recognized his garnet eyes—Zenki, the daitengu who’d insulted her at the camp.
“The fire gate,” she answered. “I need to—“
“It’s open?” he interrupted.
“Yes, and I need to get to Inari right now.”
He bared his teeth, but she wasn’t sure whether he was grinning. “He’s around here somewhere. Come on.”
He yanked her roughly to his side and leaped off the cliff. They plummeted thirty feet before he spread his wings, catching the wind. They shot toward the burning forest, swooping beneath the flaming eagle as it also reeled toward the woods. Hot smoke engulfed them.
A glowing dart of power whipped out of the haze, barely missing Zenki’s wing. He swore and snapped his wings down. On the ground below, a kami in burgundy robes raised his hand to cast another attack, while six shikigami formed of light surrounded him in a protective barrier.
As Zenki banked, Emi thrust out her hand. Wind swept downward and blasted the kami off his feet.
“Keep going!” she yelled.
Wings pumping, the daitengu hurtled through the smoke, leaving the kami behind. He dipped through a break in the forest canopy and wove through the trees, the gaps so narrow that his feathers scraped against the tree trunks as they passed.
Ahead, the woods opened into a small clearing. From the shadows, a dark form shot into view—Yumei, his spear in one hand and wings half furled. He vaulted into the clearing, then spun, weapon whipping out. A band of black power arced from the blade.
Three beasts formed of twisted roots and branches lurched into the clearing after him, only for the dark magic to strike them. Splinters of wood flew everywhere but the shikigami lumbered forward without pause.
Yumei sprang toward the monsters, black and red magic rippling in the wake of his spear. He landed in front of the first shikigami and slammed the blade into the ground. A wave of shadows launched from the point of impact and rushed over the three creatures. He ducked a lance-like root and ripped his spear through the center of the left shikigami. It collapsed.
Zenki dropped into the clearing and released Emi as he drew his sword. Without waiting, she sprinted toward Yumei. Amaterasu’s power blazed through her, and the goddess reached into her limbs to guide her movements.
As Yumei pivoted away from the stabbing roots, Emi charged the nearest shikigami. A shimmering blade of wind formed in her hands and she sliced through an attacking limb. A gust lifted her into the air as she cut up through the middle of the shikigami, her elemental blade easily parting the layers of roots and branches.
She landed neatly and found that Yumei had already slain the third shikigami. His features were cold and lifeless with the calm of battle as his glowing eyes flashed over her face.
“She cleared the fire gate,” Zenki said with a quick bow to his master, sword in hand. “Inari needs to know.”
Yumei nodded, betraying no surprise. “Gather the nearest daitengu, as well as Suzaku and Genbu. I will fetch Inari. Five minutes.”
Without a word, Zenki took flight. Yumei scooped Emi to him with his free hand and jumped skyward with a beat of his wings. Emi flicked a hand and the wind answered, catching his wings and speeding his ascent into the thick smoke.
“Has Izanami begun the ritual?” he asked.
“Yes, and we don’t have much time.”
Yumei’s jaw clenched, the first sign of tension from him. The air grew hotter, and flames clawed at the trees all around them.
They burst through a billowing column of smoke, and the forest beyond was nothing more than blackened tree stumps. In the center, the great white kyubi no kitsune glowed like a beacon, flames rippling over him. Three phantom foxes stood with him, and encircling them were a dozen kami and even more shikigami of every element.
With his fan of tails lashing, the huge fox leaped at the kami to his left. As his phantom foxes attacked another enemy, he and his opponent disappeared in a spiraling blaze.
Yumei angled toward the fox, then abruptly twisted sideways. A luminous dart sliced through his side and blood sprayed from the wound. At the edge of the burning trees below, the kami she had knocked over with her wind cast his hand toward them. Four shikigami catapulted upward.
“Get ready,” Yumei said.
And with no more warning than that, he threw her away from him.
She sailed weightlessly as Yumei faced the oncoming attack with ebony power rippling over him. A gust rushed beneath her and below, the fox beast looked up. She twisted in the air, intending to drop to the ground beside him.
He sprang, and she landed on his back instead. Sprawled just behind his massive shoulders, she grabbed a handful of thick fur for balance as he spun back to the pursuing horde of shikigami.
As flames—hot but harmless against her skin—gathered and his power built, she raised her hand. A screaming whirlwind formed around the entire group of kami and shikigami, trapping them within it.
Shiro’s tails fanned out and a violent firestorm erupted in an expanding circle. Emi’s roiling tornado drew inward, closing in tighter. The trapped kami shouted in alarm as fire met wind in a devastating explosion. She shielded her face from the hot cinders raining across the battlefield.
As the blaze died, Yumei swept out of the smoke on outspread wings, spear dripping with fresh blood
. A moment later, the scarlet eagle and five dark ravens dove through the haze to join them.
A cold breeze whispered across her face, out of place among the inferno. Shiro turned his head and in the direction he looked, the flames shrank to nothing and vanished. The eerie Shijin Genbu glided out of the darkness, frost spreading across the blackened ground with each step. Zenki followed, sword in hand.
“This is everyone I could find,” the daitengu said. “The other Kunitsukami are on their way.”
“Clear their path at any cost,” Yumei ordered. “Nothing else matters now.”
Zenki jerked his head in understanding and took off again. Yumei looked at Emi. “How many kami wait inside?”
“Izanami and Izanagi,” she responded, “and twelve kami—very powerful ones, I think.”
Shiro’s ears swiveled and he made a rumbling noise.
“Our goal is to reach Izanami as quickly as possible,” Yumei told them. “Suzaku, Genbu, stay on top of Izanagi.”
Shiro leaped into motion, his enormous stride devouring the ground. Flames lit beneath his paws and he bounded skyward, running on air. Yumei flashed after him on beating wings, his daitengu in close formation. The red eagle grabbed Genbu in her talons and followed.
Emi never would have found the invisible fire gate again, but Shiro had no trouble. On a sheer rock face ahead, a fiery circle flashed to life. Symbols appeared in its center, and just before Shiro crashed nose first into the cliff wall, it turned black. They plunged into darkness.
The flame-coated torii appeared. As they passed through it, fire erupted over the fox and the fur beneath her hands dissolved. Shiro landed on the sheer-sided path in his human form, nine phantom tails rippling behind him and his double-bladed staff coalescing in his hand. Emi clamped her arms and legs around him, almost falling off his back.
Steam curled all around them, accompanied by the hiss and guttural roar of water meeting lava. Shiro had time for one quick glance around—and then the attack began.
Immortal Fire (The Red Winter Trilogy Book 3) Page 27
