Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince

by Noriko Ogiwara

  Toko raised her face. “You’re right. Lady Toyoao told us that there’s a powerful priestess in Himuka. She said there’s no other like her in all of Toyoashihara. The priestess must still have her magatama. It hasn’t fallen into the hands of the emperor’s forces yet.”

  “That’s good news. What the priestess of Izumo hears is always right. She has the best ears in the land.”

  “She certainly does,” Toko said, smiling as she recalled the Ear who walked on two legs.

  “That settles it then,” Imatate said. “Let’s start looking. The priestess is bound to be at least as beautiful as the shrine maiden from Mino.” All three became suddenly very anxious to head out. Toko’s idea of what a high priestess looked like differed vastly from theirs, but she did not have the heart to dash their obvious enthusiasm.

  REMOVING ALL that they could carry from Oguna-maru, they hid the small boat thoroughly and headed southeast. The way was not hard to find, for it followed the level ground between the mountains that rose on either side. Emerging from the dank forest, they crossed a meadow and entered another wood. Several times they passed houses, which they elected to avoid. They did not want any more trouble with the natives.

  Outdoor living was easy in spring. There was plenty of food to be foraged in field and stream, and the ground was warm and fragrant with a thick carpet of new grasses. The stars no longer shone cold and clear, even in the dark of the moon. That night they built a campfire on a patch of dry ground at the edge of the forest and, for the first time in many days, slept enveloped in the familiar scent of the land rather than that of the sea. This was all Toko needed to feel at home. They might be at the westernmost edge of the country, but it was still Toyoashihara, and not even the vegetation differed that greatly. But she had noticed one particular difference. Although they had walked for less than a day, she had already caught the scent of the Tachibana tree several times. It seemed to be much more common in Himuka.

  The young men from Izumo did not seem to care where they were. Toko thought that even if they were perched on the edge of the world they would still swagger about as though it belonged to them. They spent their first night camping in this unknown place daring each other to grill and eat a bullfrog.

  “Try it. It’s good medicine. It’ll make you smart.”

  “Don’t listen to him. You’ll be cursed with a face like Toad Boy.”

  Listening to them, Toko wondered why on earth they had come. It was hard to believe they had a serious thought in their heads. Sugaru appeared to have no sense of mission whatsoever, and Tasuki and Imatate had just tagged along to keep him company. Yet she had to admit that their cheerful optimism was catching.

  During their voyage, she had learned that these young men took nothing seriously, almost as if they lived just to see how much in life could be laughed at. Even when facing danger on the rough seas, they roared with laughter as if nothing could be funnier. They often poked fun at their own mistakes too. When they occasionally fought, all hard feelings were forgotten as soon as they turned the argument into a joke. As Toko became accustomed to their ways, she saw that laughter could be useful. It still made her mad sometimes, though, especially as they made fun of even the crudest subjects. She frequently stood exasperated in their midst while they rolled on the ground.

  Toko no longer wondered why someone like Sugaru should bear the magatama. She still found it hard to accept, especially when she recalled the dignity of Lady Akaru or the Keeper of the Shrine, but she was forced to acknowledge that Sugaru had a certain power. Although she could not describe it in words, something about him reminded her of Prince Oh-usu. The Keeper of the Shrine had found Oh-usu’s presence “unruly.” Although not quite the same, Sugaru also had a certain presence. While his irresponsible attitude seemed the antithesis of the prince, people were drawn to Sugaru in the same way.

  “Sugaru,” Toko said suddenly, “show me the magatama again. I want to see it shine.”

  Sugaru scowled. “Don’t talk about it in front of them. I told you it was a secret, remember?”

  Tasuki and Imatate looked intrigued. “What’s this? What shines?”

  It was too late now. Pulling the pouch from inside his shirt, Sugaru opened it and shook the magatama into his palm. Just as when Toko had seen it in Izumo, it shone brightly in the dark—a cool, translucent green, as refreshing as mint. At Toko’s request, Sugaru placed it in her palm, but no matter how hard she wished otherwise, the light faded as soon as it lay in her hand.

  “You mean only Sugaru can make it shine? Well, that’s quite the skill,” Imatate said, impressed. “Just like a firefly. Or maybe a mushroom. You know the hikaritake mushroom glows in the dark too.”

  “Stop comparing me to bugs and mushrooms,” Sugaru snapped. “Now you see why I didn’t want anyone to know, Toko. They’re too ignorant to make more intelligent comments. When my mother told me not to tell anyone about it, I knew exactly what she meant. People were bound to make fun of me if I did.”

  “But we already knew you were weird, whether you glow in the dark or not,” Tasuki said. Sugaru leapt at his friend and wrestled him to the ground.

  Toko gave up. They would just never be serious.

  2

  TWO AND A HALF DAYS later they reached Himuka, land of the Kumaso. Their journey had not been without incident. The further south they traveled, the more frequently they ran into soldiers, and they encountered more villages around which they had to detour. Soldiers with hounds prowled the valleys and fields, and the thought that they were not hunting deer or boar made Toko feel ill. Still, the small party of four had made surprisingly quick progress.

  They were standing now in the spot where Kumaso Takeru’s hall had been. It was hard to believe a building had ever stood there. Not a single post remained. Just a few charred tree trunks, blasted as if by lightning, protruded from the soil. Scorched earth, charcoal, and ashes scarred the ground. While not as thoroughly wasted as the hall, the land beyond was burned black within a radius of a hundred steps. Although the sun poured down brightly, not a blade of grass was to be seen; there was only barren earth from which all life had been torn. The stark contrast between the black silence before them and the vibrant green of the hills made the companions’ blood run cold.

  “He used the Sword,” Toko said, her voice shaking. “So this is what it does. It’s horrible. Horrible. How could he? How could he come to a land he’s never seen before and do something like this? It’s inhuman. How could he do this without feeling any remorse? Isn’t there anyone who can make him see? Someone’s got to, and right now!”

  She wheeled and began walking away. Startled, Sugaru grabbed her. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going to find Prince Ousu. I have to see him.”

  “Hang on. I thought we were going to find the priestess with the magatama first.”

  “But I can’t let him do this. He can’t be allowed to get away with it.” In Toko’s mind, the scene before her had merged with the annihilation of Mino. She had not been there to see Kamitsusato fall. Now, however, the devastating reality was being shoved in her face. Not a single memory of those who had called this place home remained in the black death before her. All sense of life had been consumed, leaving only a cursed spot from which people shied away. It had never occurred to Toko that one’s home could be erased so completely.

  “I won’t let him continue this destruction. I’ll never be able to understand him again. Never. He’s despicable.”

  Sugaru put his hands on her shoulders. “It never pays to lose your head in a fight,” he said. “You should only throw your life away as the very last resort. You still have to find the other magatama, right?”

  Toko shook her head so violently her ponytail flew around her face. “I don’t care anymore! Prince Ousu’s nearby. What’s wrong with looking for a chance to kill him now? The sooner the Sword is stopped the better. If I go now, I’m sure—”

  “Wait a minute,” Sugaru said,
restraining her. “You belong to the priestess’s line, right? Then tell me something. What does it mean when the magatama starts jingling?”

  Toko frowned up at him. “What do you mean by ‘jingling’? I don’t under-stand.”

  “I don’t understand either, but it’s like there’s a bell ringing inside me even though I can’t actually hear it. It started when I showed you the magatama the other night.” He took the stone out of the pouch. In the light of day, its light appeared fainter, but the core still shone green. “It’s getting stronger all the time. It’s really annoying.” Muttering to himself, he walked first one way, then another, and finally pointed his finger in one direction. “There’s no mistake. It’s stronger when I face this way. Do you think it means something?”

  Toko stared at Sugaru in surprise. She had felt nothing. It was a voice that only the bearer could hear. She could never hope to rival him.

  “What do you think? Should we check it out?”

  Tasuki and Imatate came over, and their eyes grew round when Sugaru told them. “Just like a hound keen on the scent,” Tasuki said.

  “If you’re going to compare me to a dog, go bark up some tree,” Sugaru grumbled, but he led the way, following a trail that only he could find.

  SUGARU LED them straight east toward the mountains. Despite the teasing of his friends, he was not a dog that could simply follow a scent, and once inside the forest, he had a much harder time guiding the party. They fought their way through briar patches and struggled halfway up a cliff only to climb back down and search for a route around it. By this time, the sun was setting, and the exhausted group made camp beside a rushing stream. When Imatate dangled a fishing line into the clear waters and caught a batch of trout, they all grinned, forgetting their fatigue.

  “Don’t be greedy just because there’s lots, though,” Imatate warned them. “We should save some for tomorrow.” Several fish remained from their meal, and he wrapped them individually in large magnolia leaves. When it came to food, they all relied on him. The three young men had long ago abandoned any expectation that Toko could cook just because she was a girl. Not only had she never gutted a fish, she could not even keep the fire going properly. Although she had occasionally felt a little guilty, by now Toko had banished such thoughts as pointless and devoted herself to eating instead. It was no good pretending she could do something for which she had no aptitude.

  Toko watched in admiration as Imatate deftly wrapped the fish and then turned her attention to making a place to sleep. She needed to get enough rest. If she kept her strength up, at least she would not hold everyone back. The long journey had drilled her into shape, but she still found it hard to keep up with the men. Yet she did not want them to give her special treatment just because she was a girl, and even more so because she was not acting like one. Accustomed to sleeping on the hard ground, she curled up in a ball and fell asleep instantly.

  In the middle of the night, shouts shattered her dreams. She heard the sounds of a struggle and gravel scattering in the dark. For a moment, she thought they were being attacked. “What is it? What’s going on?” Her voice was shrill with fear, and she regretted opening her mouth. Sugaru kicked the embers of the fire and Toko saw him grab a flaming brand as a torch.

  “What happened, Imatate?” It was Tasuki’s voice.

  “This little … thieving … cat tried to steal the fish. Ow! Don’t scratch!”

  Relieved to hear that everyone was all right, Toko peered at the light cast by Sugaru’s torch to see what was causing the commotion. A small, black creature struggled frantically on the ground beneath Imatate. It was not an animal but a child.

  “Listen, you! Stealing is bad. If you want some fish, ask for it properly.” Imatate pulled the child’s face close, but the boy only fought harder, tears pouring down his cheeks. His face, hands, and feet were black with dirt and his hair was like a tangled mass of weeds.

  Sugaru bent over to peer into the boy’s face. “Leave him alone. He’s just a kid. You won’t get through to him until he stops crying anyway.”

  As soon as Imatate relaxed his grip, the boy leapt to his feet. But before he could dash away, Sugaru reached out a long arm and thrust a package of fish under his nose. “Take it,” he said.

  Snatching the parcel, the child flew off into the bushes. The rustling of his passage receded into the distance until at last there was silence.

  “Are you sure it was all right to let him go?” Tasuki asked.

  Sugaru nodded. “It’ll be fine. Just be patient and wait. A cat wouldn’t come back. But that boy will. Once he gets over the initial fear and shock and can think again. He’s probably afraid of the soldiers.” Sugaru sat down by the fire and began feeding it with sticks. Now that they were all wide awake, they joined him around the fire and waited. Just as Sugaru had said, after some time, the boy peeked out from the bushes looking uneasy and a little sheepish.

  “Hi,” Sugaru said so casually that Toko was impressed. “There’s more fish. Do you want some?”

  Drawn irresistibly, the boy emerged from the bushes, but he approached cautiously, ready to run at any moment. The fire burned brightly, allowing them to see him clearly. He was about five or six years old, with strong, straight eyebrows. He looked like he was starving, but there was no greed in his eyes. “Can I take one for my mother?” he asked, his voice high and clear.

  “Of course.”

  “She’s got a stomachache. She hasn’t been outside since last night. That’s why I …”

  “You must be very worried. Is there no one to give her medicine?” The boy shook his head. “What about your father?” The boy shook his head again, this time angrily. “You mean it’s just the two of you? That’s not good,” Sugaru said, passing the boy another fish. “Well, now that we know she’s sick, we can’t just stand by and do nothing. We brought some herbs with us. Maybe we can help. Where is she?”

  The boy’s guard went up instantly. “It’s a secret … I can’t tell you.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s more important to help your mother get better, right?” Sugaru said, crouching down in front of him. “How about if I tell you our secret? We’re Tachibana too, although we come from another land. You already know we’re not soldiers, don’t you?”

  Hugging the fish to his chest, the boy stared so intently at Sugaru’s face he could have bored a hole through it. Finally, he nodded, as if he had decided that Sugaru could be trusted.

  “Then let’s go. What’s your name?”

  “Abi.”

  They followed after him, but his secret path was no easy route for anyone larger than a small child. Most of it passed through dense brush where they could not use a torch to light their way. Without the aid of Sugaru’s magatama, they would have given up in despair.

  Once, when they paused to rest, Sugaru whispered to Toko, “I think the magatama was trying to lead us to Abi’s mother.”

  Toko looked at him with a startled expression. “Really? Is it jingling?”

  “Like crazy. The fact that she already has a kid is a bit disappointing—not that I mind beautiful older women.”

  “What on earth are you thinking?”

  “The magatama of this priestess seems to be calling mine,” he answered. “Just think what a tale it would be for my great-grandchildren. I followed a soundless voice to find the woman who would become my bride. Rather romantic, don’t you think?”

  Though taken aback, Toko had to admit that his idea was quite plausible. Each stone had power, and that power increased when they were united. It made sense that the stones would seek one another out.

  They resumed their march until finally they reached the small cave in the face of the mountain where Abi and his mother had concealed themselves. The entrance was well hidden behind a camouflage of ivy, but the hole was not deep and the light of the fire inside could be seen reflected on the walls. It was not a very safe hiding place.

  Pulling aside the ivy, Abi rushed inside. “Mother. Here.”
>
  They could hear his mother’s frantic voice even as they stood outside. “What have you done? Where have you been? I was so worried about you. What was that noise outside?”

  Toko put out a hand to stop Sugaru and the others. “It will just make her more nervous to see men right now. You wait here while I go in and explain.” She pushed aside the ivy quietly and peered inside. Abi was sitting respectfully beside his mother, who was lying on her side. The roof of the cave was high enough to stand but not very wide, like the hollow in the base of a large tree. There was only enough room for one adult to lie down.

  The woman raised herself up on her elbow and stared at Toko, her eyes round and her face pale. Her robe, which she had placed over herself as a sheet, slipped off to reveal full breasts glistening with sweat. Toko sighed with relief, glad that she had not let Sugaru and the others come in. “Please don’t be afraid,” she said. “My name’s Toko. I’m a Tachibana from Mino and I’ve been searching the country for other Tachibana. Right now I’m traveling with Sugaru—he’s a bead maker from Izumo and the bearer of a magatama—and two of his friends. I came looking for the great Tachibana priestess of Himuka. If I had known what would happen, I would have come sooner. Tonight we met Abi and he brought us here. We heard you were sick. What can I do to help?”

  Abi’s mother blinked several times but finally seemed to absorb what Toko had said. Her face relaxed, and she pushed back her disheveled hair, which fell in lustrous black waves upon her bed. But when she spoke, her words stunned Toko. “Ah, so it was you of whom Lady Iwa spoke just before she died. She foretold that a young woman would come from the east to ask for help. She said we must rise up to aid her. That’s why Kawakamihiko mustered an army. And that’s why he failed.”

  “For me? She knew I was coming?”

  “Yes. Lady Iwa knew.”

  “Then …” Toko felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “Then the war was my fault? If I hadn’t come, the land of the Kumaso would not have been burned—”