Tukka’s massive head poked out. His broad shoulders didn’t quite clear the space. In fact, he looked positively wedged in place. His red eyes glowered with fury. Whoever controlled him, I’m assuming the miko, didn’t seem to realize that he had to cross over to continue the hunt. Or was there some reason she wasn’t letting him access the ghost realm? I smiled. Maybe, she thought the fu dog only walked the human world and that of dreams. Maybe she didn’t know her prisoner could even cross over. I had no proof, but it felt like the right answer.
While Tukka was trapped up there, his eyes scanning the ground, passing over me with no recognition. That was certainly different for him. Even in the human world, he could still see me in the ghost realm. Possession had weakened his perceptions. On his own, he would have used his natural powers much better, and I wouldn’t have had any chance at all. I had to take advantage of the time I had before I crossed back due to exhaustion and became trapped in the human world where I’d be vulnerable. I forced myself to go toward the back of the shrine.
Have to find Cassie, Fenn, and Onyx... Can’t do this alone.
Tired as I was, I took small, bouncy steps that still carried me six feet at a time. Beyond the oak and Japanese maples, I ran into a regular garden, or it would have been if not for the killing power of autumn. Dry brittle stems poked up from dead shrubbery, waiting for the return of spring to bring new life. Fruit trees were bare, their skeletal branches bristling, snarling up the cold wind. I saw another one of those giant stone lanterns, and a heated koi pond where orange and white mottled fish rubbed up against each other as I passed. Their mouths flared and contracted without ever fully closing. Somehow, I just knew they were talking about me.
Past a few ornamental boulders, I found a second pond, this one empty of fish. It had a short bamboo trough at its edge that caught water from an aqueduct. The trough would fill with water, sink and strike the rock edge, and dump its water. Light again; the trough reset itself, an endless cycle. The pool never overfilled, drained by some means I couldn’t see. The aqueduct and pool could have handled the refilling job alone, but they had to put up with this stupid bamboo trough. It reminded me of all the forces that kept trying to get between Shaun and me. I wished he was here. Wishing didn’t help. Thinking of Shaun did. I had something to live for. I moved on.
And found the back of a large two-story brick house. I paused to look over French doors and a patio, windows with white painted trim, and a blue, Mexican tile roof with twin chimneys. Kunoichi swarming everywhere in their midnight blue body-stockings, carrying weapons from ancient times and machine pistols as well. This had to be the place I was looking for. Unimportant locations are never well guarded.
I started forward again, and walked into an unseen wall like the one that had stopped Torrent and his men at the torii gate. I studied the tree trunks nearby and saw that I was between two of them with fancy ropes winding around their girths. Several little, wooden placards hung on each tree. The placards all had squiggle Japanese writing on them; more of the miko’s mystic barriers. I stepped back. I wasn’t trapped, just kept out of where I needed to go.
No hope for it, I decided, knowing Tukka could find me at any moment. This situation calls for something recklessly stupid.
The orange flame wreathing me was burning raggedly. I had little time left anyway. I drew a deep breath, and let it out as I pulled the veil across me, entering the human world once more. As I became visible, machine guns swung to cover me. I raised my hands slowly and took a step forward. This time, the barriers didn’t try to stop me. Apparently, I could only cross them in the human world.
A bright smile on my face, I called out, “Hi, gang, someone want to tell Aimi I’m here? I know she’ll have been worried.”
A loud wooden clack caused me to whip my head back toward that last pond. The bamboo trough had a purpose after all; almost making me jump outta my skin.
I brought my attention forward and found I was completely surrounded. They forced me to my knees, my hands were twisted up behind my back, and some kind of plastic handcuff was put on me. I was hauled to my feet and dragged to the house. The French doors opened as I got there. Smiling, wearing a white blouse and a red skirt, the miko looked me over. Hanging all over her was someone else she’d stolen from me.
Horror iced my blood. His eyes shone red as Tukka’s had.
I couldn’t help crying out his name, “Shaun!”
The miko said, “I find it interesting that you know each other, very interesting.”
I shrugged, as if it were unimportant. “He’s a friend of my mom’s.”
“At the very least,” she agreed.
The miko slid a hand up inside his shirt, caressing his abs. A blinding red fury descended on me. I wanted to rip her hand away from him, and feed it to her—without salt.
She said, “Come along, my precious kitsune. I have a very nice cage for you. I hope you like it. What I collect, I never release.”
TWENTY-THREE
BLUNTS: dull cut & thrust practice blades
equipped with rounded edges and tips, often
called “foiled blades” or “foils”.
I was led into the house—well, museum might be more accurate. The floor was covered in green-gray tiles. The walls were a soft sea-foam green. Towering display cases of golden oak and blue-tinted glass held handcrafted dolls made of corn silk, reed and river cane baskets, and plain masks with barely human features.
We went slowly from case to case. There were ghost flutes with fringes of feathers, and ornaments made of bright beads, as well as silver, copper, and turquoise. Several bandolier bags with beautifully bead-embroidery caught my eye. Next were wrap-around blouses, and beaded moccasins. Another case held weapons and tools: fishing spears, stone axes, blow guns, flint knives, even a wooden hoe.
I remembered the farmhouse where the family had died, and I’d seen the Cherokee warrior. Here were many of the things that family been killed for. Their spilt blood was on the miko’s hands, not that she cared.
I wanted her to care. It should matter when people die, no matter the reason.
Elsewhere, Hopi kachina dolls were caught mid-dance, as if a kitsune had stopped time for them. On higher and lower shelves brightly patterned blankets were folded into squares. I paused in front of a hammered copper mask, a man’s face, his nose huge, the eyes and mouth only holes. The mask had two antlers poking straight up.
A weredeer or just a bad artist? I wondered.
The miko paused by a mostly empty case that only held two blocks of ebony as if something were meant to be stretched across them, suspended in the air. “Here is where I was going to put the sword of Susanoo.”
“But you walked away from it,” I said, “even though you wanted it.”
“I know my limitations,” she said. “I’m not a ghost or a god. Even the spirit that used it could only draw a small portion of its power. The rest spilled out to do as it pleased. If I had the sword now, I could not resist using it, and that would probably destroy me. I will go after the relic, but only when I have found a suitable puppet that can handle the blade.”
“Aimi said her parents wanted the sword as a status symbol among the Yakuza. Don’t you have to give them what they want?”
“I have informed them that the relic belonging to Shaun Cameron is a fake. The man is mine now. I want him forgotten.”
Standing next to her, Shaun gave no sign he knew she was talking about him. He stood still as a mannequin. He might have been a lifeless except for the weird red eyes that gave him a demonic aspect.
“What have you done to him, and to Tukka?” I demanded.
“Tukka?”
“My fu dog.”
“Ah, so that was you in the dream world where I captured him. They are both mine, as you will soon be, once you’ve been pricked by a demon’s tear.”
“Demon? Don’t tell me you’ve got one of those, too?”
She smiled at me, moving on to an elevator at a junction o
f halls. “Of course, no collection could be complete without an oni.”
My throat went dry with fear. I found myself nearly whispering as the elevator door opened and I was pushed inside. “Demons are too strong, too tricky. You may have captured one, but he’s only biding his time. You’ll make a mistake, and he’ll tear you into tiny, bloody pieces. You’ll wish the sword had gotten you instead.”
I leaned against the back of the car as it dropped to a basement level. The door opened and I was hauled out. The miko and Shaun led the way. I had kunoichi left, right, and behind me. My hands were bound behind me, but a simple cross over would fix that. It was my own lack of aura that kept me their prisoner. Just let me get a little rest and—
I smelled something putrid-sweet like rotting, maggoty flesh. I knew that scent, or one like it, from when I’d been attacked as a child, and rescued by Tukka. I was smelling demon, a cold aura full of menace that made me lock my legs, refusing to take another step.
A lady ninja pushed me, but I let myself fall rather than go any further.
“What is your problem,” the kunoichi asked me in accented English.
The miko looked back as I was dragged upright. She frowned at the guard. “Be careful how you handle my property. I don’t want it broken, unless I do it myself.”
My eyes widened. “It’s here.” I felt the chill of its unseen presence, its rage curdling the air, making it sour.
The miko made an off-hand gesture toward the side where a high steel fence enclosed a concrete bowl. I was picked up and dragged over to her. My fear intensified, but a morbid curiosity that defied self-preservation also stirred to life. There were a great many plaques on the fence, covered with more Japanese writing. Above the pit, the same writing wiggled across most of the ceiling, line after line after line of kanji. Red chalk had been used on the concrete bowl itself; more writing. The fence didn’t go all the way to the ceiling, but it didn’t need to. The demon wasn’t possessing anyone, so it lacked a physical form that needed containment.
I knew though, if I were able to cross over, I’d see it inside, edged in black flames, twisted and awful. As we lingered by the basin, our breaths became white mist. The wire fence shivered as though invisible claws were pulling on it.
The miko laughed with soaring tones both defiant and beautiful. From the wide white sleeves of her blouse she produced a handful of dried cherry blossom petals. She flung them through the wire fence. The petals swirled in the air, caressing something unseen, suggesting a great bestial shape with fluttering wings. The petals were like the fake snow in a snow globe, dancing, slowly settling at last to the concrete basin.
She looked at me. “You have an affinity for spirit beasts. You see what’s not there. You should have been a miko. Come along, I have other exhibits that will interest you even more.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but followed along, not wanting to be dragged. As we passed, I noticed a locked door in the fence. The miko went in through there when visiting her prize exhibit. She had mentioned a demon tear used in her mind-control spell. I’d thought she’d spoken figuratively, but maybe not. So how does one gather demon’s tears?
Our twelve foot path arced right between two banks of cages. There was no kanji here, no mystic barriers. The bars looked new. Each cage was twelve by twelve, with basic wood furniture, and sanitary facilities where you just let it all hang out taking care of business. A slight slope in the concrete delivered spilled water to a drain in the middle of the cage floors. I had a mental vision of an uncooperative guest getting hosed down if he didn’t want to shower elsewhere.
Lovely.
We came up to occupied cages. Figures rushed the side of the cages, hands reached out to me. Fenn’s voice hit first, “Grace, they got you too?”
“No,” I said, “I cleverly surrendered so I could save you.”
One of the ninja guards snorted as If I’d made a joke.
“Grace!” It was Cassie. “Get out of here, now. There’s nothing you can do for us, we’ve been infect—uh!” Her eyes went blood red as she bit down on her last word, growing eerily silent, losing personality. Fenn was the same.
“My pet demon controls them, passing my orders along, because I control him,” the miko said. “Shall I have him sing you a song, with their lips?”
“Don’t do me any favors,” I said.
After a moment, the red eyes went away and Fenn and Cassie were their normal selves. They stayed quiet, focused, muscles tight with anger. Cassie’s face melted, reshaping, darkening with red-orange fur. Her gold eyes brightened, incandescent coins in her head. Long, pointy ears appeared atop her head. Fox ears. Her head became a fox’s. The rest of her looked human, though a fox tail poked up out of her slacks. A fierce, predatory grin occupied Cassie’s face. She could be muzzled, but never tamed.
I understood something important—this is what it means to be kitsune.
I looked at the miko, my own eyes beaming silent contempt and a promise to hurt her badly first chance I got.
She pouted at me. “What’s that face for? I do all of you a great honor. You were less than nothing, but now, because I have claimed you, you have value.”
The silent promise in my eyes continued to rake her, as she went on to another cage, one with a feeding trough and hay piled on the floor. Through the bars I saw leathery blue skin, a matted mane, spiked collar, and red lantern eyes. Tukka. He’d been brought back to his cage from the shrine.
The miko looked in at him.
The blood pooling in his eyes vanished. The lavender glow returned. He stared at me, eyes widening. His jaw dropped in surprise. Grace, not be here, his thoughts lumbered into mine. No good.
I leaned against the bars of his cage. Tears were on my face. “Tukka, you know me.” He took a tottering step, then collapsed, but never looked away from me. Tukka sorry you here.
“I’m not,” I said.
The miko moved up beside me, staring into Tukka cage. “So, the stubborn beast will talk to you. And here I had thought his curious sickness had broken his mind. You deserved to lose him, taking such poor care of him.”
Following Tukka’s example, I ignored her. But golden eyes blinked open in the back shadows of my mind. Taliesina was back, and fighting me for control of my body. Exhausted by everything up ‘til now, I lurched and spun back the way I’d come.
The miko stared at me, fascinated by whatever she was reading in my face.
My gaze stabbed past her, going to Cassie’s cage. My hands strained at the tie that bound them behind my back, I felt my face flowing like wax, going all furry as my nose and mouth became a pointy, whiskered snout. My teeth sharpened, getting bigger, making my gums briefly bleed.
I snapped the tie and reached out toward Cassie. Taliesina borrowed my voice. It went higher in pitch and roughened, “Mommy!”
Cassie gripped the bars of her cage, face pressed against the steel. It looked for a moment like she was going to rip out the bars, but they only bent a little before she calmed down. She closed her eyes and said, “Calm down, Taliesina. That’s not helping anyone.”
The kunoichi covered me like starving fleas, grabbing my arms, hustling me backwards through an open door, into a cage of my own. They left and the door slammed shut, ringing with a hard sound of despair. Taliesina let go, and I took back control, swaying on my feet. I only needed the soft push of the wind to knock me on my face. Such a wind didn’t come. The miko came up to my door, Shaun still wedged to her side.
“You should thank me for the accommodations,” the miko said.
“I’d rather chew glass,” I hissed.
Her smile widened. “All in due time. Meanwhile, why don’t you turn around and greet your roommate?” She strolled off, laughing delicately.
I felt a presence behind me, drawing closer. I slowly turned, and found Onyx. Wearing all black, he was a three-dimensional shadow except for face and hands which seemed way too pale. His head hung.
“Onyx?”
He lifted his head, and showed me a hard, evil smile. His eyes shone the color of blood. Both his arms came up, as he reached for me.
TWENTY-FOUR
FALSING: a form of feinting, subtly
faking the intention—or the line—
of an attack.
I let Onyx get intimately close where he was as vulnerable to me as I was to him. I shifted my weight forward, getting ready to slam a knee where it might do some good.
His hands rested on my shoulders without the bruising force I’d expected, as his eyes shot a glance past me, into the aisle outside our cage. His shoulders slumped off their tension. The red light of his eyes dimmed, swallowed by blackness that seeped from his soul. Brow furrowed with concern, he focused on me, voice soft, “Grace, are you all right?”
I relaxed. “You’re not in her power?”
He grinned at me. “There’s too much living darkness in a shadow man for demon magic to control. Chances are you’ll prove immune too.”
I wasn’t comforted. “You’re guessing. You don’t know.”
He shrugged. “Where you’re concerned, all I can do is guess, and I usually get it wrong. I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”
“You help me save everyone, and I’ll call us even.”
He peered deep into my eyes, his face becoming a mask of determination. “I am yours to command.”
I’m not buying that, still… “Then tell me about this demon magic. How is the miko boosting her power? I know it has something to do with her caged demon, but…”
“It’s blood magic.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
He dragged me over to a canvas cot draped by a murky green blanket. An indented, caseless pillow lay at one end. “Have a seat,” he said.
I did, and caught my breath as he knelt on the floor in front of me. His hand hovered over one of my knees. A shiver went up my back as he brushed the spot with a thumb, turning it up so we could both see a red smear of blood. I’d gotten a small wound when I’d kneed Tukka under the jaw, cutting my knee on his spiked collar.
Tears and Shadow (kitsune series) Page 18
