“With four magatama, you should be able to defeat the master of the Sword fairly easily. But once you bear those stones, you aren’t human anymore,” Sugaru said in a low voice. “Are you sure you want to do that? Don’t imagine that you can kill him and return to being your old self.”
“I know. But some sacrifice must be paid if I’m to become the bearer.” There was no trace of fear in her voice. “Give me the Misumaru, please. I’ll accept whatever happens.”
Sugaru suddenly recalled the words of the god on the mountain. He who uses force will inevitably meet someone stronger. That was not Toko’s style. Instead, she was behaving just like Lady Kage—just like a shrine maiden. Perhaps Toko was fit to be the bearer after all. Sugaru cleared his throat. He knew he had lost this battle. “I’ll give you these, but you must hold to some promises in return,” he said. “First, when you kill him, promise me you won’t try to follow him in death. Second, when you’re finished with the Misumaru, let them go. And third, when it’s all over, return with me to Izumo. Kisako is there and it’s not a bad place to live. And forget about Oguna forever. Can you promise me these things?”
“Yes, I promise.” Toko nodded. “I’d be happy to promise that.”
Sugaru untied the string of beads and handed it to Toko. “Thread your stone onto that string. That will make the Misumaru.”
Green, yellow, black, and white; Midori, Ki, Kuro, and Shiro—now Toko possessed the string of beads, all four of them shimmering with color and light. It seemed far too beautiful to be called the Misumaru of Death. Yet this power was now hers. After searching for so long, it was finally in her grasp.
“How does it feel?” Sugaru asked.
“Not much different. It feels normal.”
“I guess that’s how it is.”
Toko smiled. It was a smile of pure joy. Now there was nothing left between her and Oguna. There was nothing to stop her from joining him. “You’ll have to teach me how to fly like that. Prince Ousu is already heading east. But with the Misumaru we should be able to close the distance instantly.”
“You’re going to start already?” Sugaru asked.
“I’m going straight to Prince Ousu,” Toko said, her eyes shining and her face clear. “Now that I finally have the ability to do that, what else would I do?” She had sacrificed everything just for this moment. There was no reason to hesitate.
PART III
WHERE THE
WHITE BIRD
FLIES
Oh, thou who called my name
Standing in the midst of the flames
That burned through the field
Of Sagamu.
—Kojiki
chapter
eight
APPARITION
Apparition
IT WAS DAWN. Toko and Sugaru stood on the beach, watching the sky. The sun rose from the clouds, dappling the red sky with gold. Out in the sea, the islands lay like black shadows. Waves, pungent with the smell of the tide, rolled from the purple haze in the distance to wash against the shore. Not a boat or a person was in sight—just the day breaking quietly on the empty beach. The place looked as though nothing ever happened, as if each day slipped uneventfully into the next.
In reality, only one day earlier Prince Ousu and his men had launched a flotilla of warships to conquer the Emishi in the east. Despite the prince’s fame and glory, it must have been a very subdued departure. No one appeared to have come from the capital to bid them farewell. The people of Mahoroba did not travel this way by choice, for the eastern lands were backward and primitive, home to a strange and foreign race.
However, none of this mattered to Toko. She stood for some time on the shore, inhaling the sea air and gazing at the mist on the horizon. Prince Ousu’s warships must be out there in the distance. That was all that mattered. At last, she was close to her goal.
“We’re a day too late,” Sugaru said. “If we’d come a little more smoothly we could have settled everything before they sailed away.”
Sugaru had given Toko the string of beads only to discover that she was not a very reliable navigator. She had no sense of direction, a deficit for which the Misumaru apparently could not compensate. That they had reached this beach at all was entirely thanks to Sugaru.
Toko, however, turned and smiled. “What’s wrong with that? I’ve got the Misumaru, which controls wind and water. With this, I’m not even a day’s distance away.”
“You plan to pursue him even in the middle of the sea?”
“Actually, I think it’s better that way. If by any chance he’s still able to wield the Sword, no one else will get hurt.”
“But traveling over water is risky, especially when you can’t even stay on course over land.”
“I’ll use a boat. I’ll make it fly like the wind.”
“Hmm. A boat …”
Toko looked up at him. “Sugaru,” she said earnestly, “please. Let me go by myself, all right? I know it was you who got us here, but I have to do the rest alone. I have to finish this by myself. That’s why I set out on this journey in the first place. So please?”
Sugaru looked into her eyes and then nodded. “I know,” he said. “You’re the bearer of the Misumaru. I won’t interfere. After all, I promised.”
“I’m sorry, Sugaru.”
“There’s no need to apologize. As long as you keep your promise as well.”
Tied on the shore they found an old weathered skiff, just big enough for one person. They decided to appropriate it, and Toko clambered in. Still dressed in the colorful silk robe she had worn at the palace, she looked quite odd in the little gray boat.
“How is it?”
“It feels fine.”
Sugaru, his eyes cheerful and his manner easy, showed no sign of worry, but Toko knew that he would not budge from this spot until he saw her safely out to sea. She had always thought he was the most irresponsible person she had ever met. Yet, in the end, there had been no one more dependable.
“Thank you for everything,” she said. “I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble. If it weren’t for you, I would never have made it from Izumo to this point. I would never have become the bearer of the Misumaru.”
Sugaru shrugged. “Stop talking as if it’s all over. This is just the beginning, remember? Off you go and set things right.”
“But I wanted to tell you now. I have no other way of thanking you.” She hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Sugaru, why did you do it? Why did you come with me when you could have had Kisako? When, unlike Kisako, I have nothing to give you in return?”
“You’ve grown up suddenly, Shorty, to be so considerate.”
Toko scowled. “You underestimate me. I’ve been wondering about that for a long time. I just didn’t ask.”
Sugaru looked down at her thoughtfully. “I go where I’m needed, that’s all. Compared to Kisako, the load you carried seemed a bit heavier. After all, it’s a big job—trying to fulfill the mission of your people. They’re my people too, so I thought I should do something. Of course, rewards are important, but is that why you followed after Prince Ousu? Because you expected to get something in return?”
“… No.”
“You see.”
Toko beamed at him suddenly. She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. “I guess I’ll be off, then.”
“Let him have it. No regrets, okay?”
Toko raised the string of beads in her right hand, bringing the water under her control. In Himuka, the Misumaru had raised the river to drown a village, but this was the sea. The current changed course and caught up her little skiff so that it shot across the waves—straight out into the bay, eastward, toward where the sun rose.
Standing on the shore, Sugaru stared after her, her figure a dark shadow backlit by the golden sun, until she dwindled to a speck on the horizon and vanished. “She’s just a kid,” he whispered. “Right to the very end.”
When she could no longer see Sugaru or the cove, Toko turned and
faced forward. Blue water spread out before her and the wind blew in her face, catching her hair. She was so elated she could hardly sit still. She did not forget the fear that lay cold across her mind, and her skin prickled with anxiety. Yet Toko sensed liberation ahead. Finally, she could bring it all to a close. By setting Oguna free, she would free herself from the task she had set. What lay beyond that, Toko could not begin to imagine, and so she did not even try. Her sole desire was to return everything to the beginning; that was all she had set out to do. It was for this purpose, and this purpose alone, that she bore the Misumaru and the sword from Mino.
It took so long to get this far …
She thought back on the journey since she had left home. Just as Oguna was no longer the Oguna she had once known, having come this far, she was no longer the same Toko. That was why she could be the bearer of the Misumaru and destroy the power of the Sword. Thinking about it, Toko realized that she had not embarked on this quest simply for her people. She had come here to keep a promise—a small, personal promise. Why otherwise would her heart be beating so fast even while her eyes sought the enemy she must defeat?
Shining waves. The little skiff skipped lightly over their crests like a flying fish. Toko recalled again the leaf boats she and Oguna had raced on the stream so long ago—Oguna-maru and Toko-maru.
In the end, we both reached the sea. Perhaps this is the best place to lay those memories to rest …
AS SHE SPED ACROSS THE WATER, Toko saw a mist rising like a wall across the horizon. It seemed strange, for the weather was fair and not a single cloud lay over the land. Something must be there, and instinctively, she aimed the skiff straight into the middle of the fog. The sun above her head was abruptly extinguished, and a thick fog flew into her mouth and nose, choking her. Her field of vision turned white, and she could not even see the water in front of her.
A blue-white bolt of lightning split the haze, running across it with a thunderstroke that made Toko cower and throw her arms over her head. Another bolt landed even nearer. The roar split her ears and numbed her flesh. The malice emanating from the mist shocked her. It’s the Sword, she thought. I’m sure of it. Sensing the power of the Misumaru, the Sword was acting against her—and the force of that threat was enough to dispel any foolish optimism. They were enemies and what lay before them was war. Sentimentality would be permitted only to the one who survived. And Toko must survive.
Biting her lip, she focused on the Misumaru. The four stones combined should have enough power to counterattack. Summoning the forces of wind and water, she centered their energy on dispelling the mist and binding the lightning. Huge waves swelled, rocking her boat so violently that her head reeled. As she gritted her teeth and fought to maintain control, she gradually began to see what she must do. She must find the source of the lightning—the Sword. The power of the stones could not temper the whole of the sea.
The sky had turned stormy, and a menacing blackness surrounded her. The waves rose as high as cliffs and flashes of lightning slid across their peaks. Gathering her courage, Toko steered the boat out of a trough to the top of a wave and then leapt from crest to crest in the surging sea, nearly capsizing more than once. Finally, luck turned in her favor. Between two great waves she glimpsed the prow of a warship.
There!
A wind sprang up and blew her close. Instantly, the sea began swirling about the warship, wrapping it in a great waterspout that climbed higher and higher. As the funnel of water neared the sky, the lightning weakened until finally Toko could not hear even a murmur of thunder. The Sword was sealed, locked inside with the ship so that its power could not stir. Bringing her little skiff to a halt, Toko gazed at the scene, her face flushed. She was drenched, but it did not bother her. The time had come. Sweeping back her dripping hair, she calmly drew her sword from her robe. It was with this that she must perform the mission before her. Placing the hilt against her forehead, she closed her eyes.
O Goddess who guards the Tachibana, protect me. Keeper of the Shrine, guide me. Mother, Akaru, be with me …
There was no turning back. Fixing her eyes on the vortex before her, she drove her boat into the whirling water and plunged through. Her boat was swept upwards in a spiral, as if it would be hurled to the top of the sky. Unable to keep her footing on the deck any longer, Toko fell into the maelstrom that whirled high above the sea. Within the center, however, a warm updraft blew—a fact that the Misumaru seemed to have known. The vertical wind caught Toko, buoying her light frame so that she descended slowly, almost swimming through the air. Forcing herself to remain calm, she watched the warship draw steadily closer and larger.
At last I am coming to meet you. Now is the time to make my wish come true …
2
THE SHIP SAT MOTIONLESS as if anchored at the center of the whirlpool. Toko noted with surprise that instead of pitch darkness, the bottom of the funnel glowed with a dim light. And it was unexpectedly quiet. The updraft must be sucking the thunderous roar of the water out the top of the waterspout. Toko glided down like a bird coming to roost—but she did not land like one. Slipping on the wet deck, she fell with a thump that she thought must have been heard over the entire ship. The vessel was large enough to carry at least twenty armed soldiers, but only one person was on deck.
Toko leapt to her feet. She knew at a glance that this was the man she sought. In one hand he gripped a naked blade that glowed with a faint bluish light—it was the Sword that lit the darkness. Seeing her, he froze, a startled expression on his face.
“Toko?” he said.
No words came from Toko’s lips. She stared at him silently. Dressed all in white, Prince Ousu stood out clearly in the dim glow. He wore neither the armor nor the jewels that suited his rank. The Sword was the only thing that identified him as the prince. Yet even that he now tossed aside.
“Toko,” he repeated. He seemed bewildered, as if he did not know what to do. “It is you. You really came. How did you get here?”
Barely a moment before they had been locked in deadly battle, but now, brought face to face, they could only stand like wooden statues, staring at one another. The prince’s complete defenselessness threw Toko into confusion. The man who waited here should have been the prince of Mahoroba, vicious and brutal, surrounded by soldiers. And he should have forgotten who she was. But instead, he stood alone, his Sword discarded on the deck, calling her name—like Oguna would have. Toko pulled herself together. She must not be deceived.
“Your Sword can no longer summon the lightning. It’s useless to resist. Where are your men?”
“I’m the only one on board. I ordered the others to a separate ship before I invoked the power of the Sword. But I never thought that you would be the one to come,” he said, still looking stunned.
“And why shouldn’t I?” Toko asked defiantly. “With that Sword you slew Prince Oh-usu, drove Lady Akaru to her death, and razed the land of Mino. Surely it shouldn’t surprise you that I would come to seek revenge. This is the Misumaru, strung with the Tachibana stones. It took me all this time to gather them. I’ve waited so long for this day—the day I would destroy you.”
“I see,” Oguna said in a small voice. “Yes. It makes sense that you would want revenge.”
“And you didn’t stop there. You brought destruction to Izumo and to Himuka, too. I saw it with my own eyes. Your very existence brings ruin to Toyoashihara. You deserve my hatred, and more.”
The prince looked resigned. “You’re right. The only thing this Sword brings is hate and destruction. And there’s no one who can stop it.”
It was just as Toko had expected. His heart had been numbed by the ongoing slaughter. Probably nothing she could say would hurt or even anger him. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away. If this was what Oguna had been reduced to, then she had been right. Now she felt she could kill him and bring it to an end. It should not be that difficult.
“I’ve been longing to see you for so long. I came here because I didn’t
want you to be slain by anyone else. I wanted to kill you myself so that I could see my Oguna once more.”
Faster than thought, the Misumaru swept her straight to the prince. She held her dagger ready and closed her eyes. As long as she held it straight and true, as long as she didn’t let go the moment the blade bit through flesh, she could do it. And she did. Her eyes still closed, she waited for the body her blade was in to wilt, to fall. It seemed like an eternity.
Then she heard a voice. It was Prince Ousu. “Toko,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “That’s not going to kill me. You mustn’t close your eyes.”
Shocked, her eyes flew open. The prince bent over her and she saw that her dagger, which should have pierced his heart, protruded instead from his midriff. He was far taller than she had expected—a whole head taller than she remembered. She had missed the mark completely. Panicked, Toko staggered away, her hand still grasping the dagger. Blood spurted from the prince’s side, rapidly dyeing his white clothes crimson. He clasped a hand over the wound and grimaced with pain.
“Toko,” he gasped. “What are you doing? You’ve got to finish it. You came to kill me, didn’t you?”
“What’re you saying?” Toko shouted. “You mean that’s what you intended all along?”
Prince Ousu braced himself against the side of the ship. His face was pale, but he managed to school his features. “Toko, hurry.”
Her hands shook. The blood that flowed from his wound pierced her eyes. Warm blood, from a living body. The color of pain. “But why?”
“An assassin shouldn’t be asking that. Toko, you’re taking too long. I didn’t want to tell you …” His eyes clouded as he gazed at her. “I’ve been waiting the whole time. I knew. Lady Toyoao told me … but I couldn’t believe it. I never thought I’d see you again. Yet you gathered the beads and came. All this way …” He groaned and his voice grew weaker. “I wanted someone … I didn’t care who … to stop me. I wanted someone to do for me what I couldn’t do myself. Yet it wasn’t just anyone who came. It was you, Toko. Nothing could have made me happier.”
Mirror Sword and Shadow Prince Page 35
