by Zoe Marriott
“Climb up behind my mane, then,” she said, uncoiling further and sliding her chin down to rest on the sand at our level. “Try not to kick me too much. You’ll leave scuff marks on my hide, and they take an eon to come out.”
I let out a tired, feeble little laugh. Shinobu made a cup of his hands and boosted me up.
Silver Fangs’ scales were soft, like the butteriest, most expensive suede ever. I found purchase in the fluted edges of one massive scale and cautiously clambered up to sit at the back of her neck, just behind where the slim ears grew out of her skull. The drifting light filaments of her mane bobbed around me. Where they touched my skin, it tingled pleasantly. I leaned down to offer Shinobu my hand, and he climbed up to sit behind me, then nestled my body into his as if we were riding pillion on a horse.
“Ready?” Silver Fang asked, her voice vibrating through her body and shaking me right down to the bones. “Hang on.”
Without further warning her head began to lift, shooting smoothly up, up, up, carrying us hundreds of feet into the air in less time than it took for me to draw in an awed breath. The g-force of her acceleration slammed us firmly against the ridged scales of her neck, but as if to be sure of our safety, the filaments of her mane wound around my wrists, and their tingly, tickly touch secured me in place. They found Shinobu’s hands, resting on my waist, and wove around them too. A magical safety belt.
Below us, the dragon’s massive body uncoiled like a reel of silk ribbon − boneless and fluid against the frothing grey sea. The black sky pressed down on us. Silver Fangs aimed at one of the narrow golden veins that criss-crossed the dark clouds and undulated her body into a corkscrew, threading herself deftly through it. We flipped in the air. For a heart-stopping moment both of us were hanging upside down, held in place only by our knees clamped against hot dragon scales and the grasp of those deceptively fine blue filaments. I let out a wild scream of mixed fright and exhilaration. Silver Fangs opened her jaws and trumpeted back, her voice rocking the sky.
Then we were surrounded by warm golden light. The tranquil sky around us was filled with towering cloud castles bigger than the Palace of Westminster and tinted with all the fiery shades of sunset. She plunged straight into the nearest cloud edifice. As we flew further into the mist, it changed colour, from red-gold to a deep blue-silver that nearly matched the shade of Silver Fangs’ scales. Finally we broke out of the cloud – into darkness. There were no stars and no moon, and I couldn’t see anything but black below us. When I craned my neck back, I realized there wasn’t a sky above us, but a ceiling – a massive ceiling of sandy-coloured stone that stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions.
“Nearly there!” Silver Fangs carolled. I could hear the joy of flying in her voice. It made her sound eager and almost young. “Brace yourselves for the next part!”
She pointed her nose directly at the ceiling blocking our way and surged upwards, her body straightening into a vertical line like an arrow. We shot towards the stone − the individual blocks looming larger and larger at an alarming rate.
That was when I realized she was intending to fly headlong into the ceiling.
“Oh, shiiiiitt!” I screamed.
Silver Fangs’ nose hit the stone blocks – and disappeared, gliding smoothly into them as if they were completely insubstantial. Her face, ears and mane all followed. The ceiling hurtled towards us. Shinobu tightened his grip on my waist, curving his larger frame around mine to protect me – as if anything could protect either of us from an impact like that.
We hit the stones.
I think the impact knocked me unconscious for a second. The next thing I knew, the dragon’s warm scales were no longer beneath me, and my hands were free. I opened my eyes to see a swirling blue sea above me, then realized it wasn’t real water, but paint. I knew that paint job.
We were on the floor of Ebisu’s shop. I was sprawled on my back with Shinobu beneath me. Both of us were breathing and in one piece. Silver Fangs had known what she was doing – of course. Jack, Dad and Hikaru made a semicircle around us, apparently frozen with shock.
I started to sit up, and the sword, lying against my spine, roared to life in a blaze of energy that set my back on fire. I jerked involuntarily and put a hand on the ground to steady myself, holding in a groan with an effort. Oh, God. It’s awake.
I could feel its energy stretching, testing out the limits of the last, flawed seal that still partially bound it. Its vibration was deeper and stronger. I could almost hear its voice. All at once I knew that there would be no unsheathing the blade, no fighting with it, until I was face-to-face with Izanagi. It was already too powerful. I wouldn’t be able to control it. When the time came to go up against the god, I would just have to rely on the sword’s craving for destruction to do the job that needed to be done. And once I had succeeded or failed, it wouldn’t matter any more.
The sword wouldn’t be able to enslave me if I was dead.
All this played out in my mind in a split-second. I met Shinobu’s eyes and mouthed the words, Don’t tell them.
Shinobu gave me a tiny, discreet nod, and I knew that he had understood.
Then the moment of shocked stillness was over – and everyone piled down onto us at once. Jack grabbed me into a hug, locking her arms around my neck. Hikaru caught Shinobu by the front of his hakama and kissed him full on the lips. “You’re alive! I never thought I’d be so glad to see you, Tall, Dark and Gorgeous!”
Something struck me as slightly different about Hikaru, but before I could figure out what it was, or decide if I needed to rescue Shinobu, who looked shell-shocked, Jack was talking to me.
“That was hands down the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” she squeaked. I’d never heard her voice hit that pitch before. “A dragon! You actually rode on a real, live dragon!”
“Wait a minute.” I struggled out of her grip so that I could breathe. “How did you know about that?”
“That was my doing.” Ebisu’s familiar voice made me look sideways, over the top of Jack’s head. The old man was seated on his stool next to the till, drinking tea, with his cane propped against his knee. He looked, if possible, even more shrunken and rumpled than before. In the few hours – no more than, what, six? – since I’d left the mortal realm this morning, he seemed somehow to have lost mass, and his eyes in his sallow face were surrounded by purplish shadows. He might be unkillable, but the effort of helping us seemed to be taking a pretty awful toll regardless. Still, he gave me a little wave, then pointed behind me. “We’ve been watching you in my water mirror. Just watching, mind you. There’s no sound.”
My face must have betrayed complete horror. Watching us? The whole time? What if they’d read our lips, what if they’d worked out what Silver Fangs had said? They’d never let us go!
“Don’t worry,” my father said dryly. He gathered me into one of his trademark awkward dad-hugs. I could feel him shaking a little bit, and he, too, looked drawn and tired. “I looked away during all the personal moments. Frankly, it was that or lose my breakfast.”
“And I made Hikaru look away,” Jack said. “Although, seriously, at one point I was starting to wonder if you two were just going to stay in the dream realm and mack forever.”
I saw Shinobu’s lips twitch at that. I was so relieved they hadn’t rumbled us that I managed a sort of feeble giggle. Dad gave me a pat on the shoulder, then stood and held his hand out to Shinobu, who took it and let Dad pull him upright. The rest of us followed. At which point I got my first really good look at Hikaru and felt my eyebrows jump up and try to hide in my hair.
“Hikaru … um … did you … make kind of a change since I last saw you?”
Hikaru sighed. She – yes, clearly and very definitely she – reached out to hug me. “It’s a Kitsune thing. Can we just leave it at that?”
I took that to mean I should shut up about it. My eyes shot to Jack, who was wearing a slightly guilty, conflicted expression. Then I checked Shinobu. He seemed entirely u
nphased. That probably meant gender-change was an accepted part of folklore about fox spirits – which would explain quite a lot, now I came to think of it. Interesting. And the most interesting thing of all was that Jack didn’t seem happier about it.
I hugged Hikaru back. “Of course we can, Friendly Neighbourhood Fox Spirit. But no more kissing my boyfriend on the mouth, though.”
“Why?” she asked. A reckless light danced in her eyes, and her grin turned slightly manic. “Jealous? I can always give you a little smooching, too, to even things out.”
Jack’s glare could have sterilized a tray of my parents’ dental equipment. “Is that all you think about, Furball?”
“What?” Hikaru asked innocently, spreading her hands. “I’m just trying to be fair.”
My father stepped forward, deftly inserting himself between Hikaru and me and Jack’s death stare. “So, we finally have the wakizashi. What now? I assume that the dragon told you how you’re supposed to use it?”
Out of the frying pan into the fire. I hesitated, trying to work out how to play this, but before I could formulate an answer, Ebisu put his teacup down and picked up his cane. He eased himself to his feet with a muffled groan. “I think that we are about to have visitors.”
Shinobu was by my side in an instant. “Is it Izanagi?”
My hand shot back to the sword’s hilt. Its fierce vibration jumped up a notch at my touch. It was yearning to be freed. I let go quickly. Damn. I couldn’t fight Izanagi yet. I had to wait until midnight and the opening of the mouth of Yomi. “Should we run while we have the chance?” I demanded, my eyes heading to the STAFF ONLY door at the rear of the shop.
“No, it is not Izanagi,” Ebisu said. “And I wouldn’t advise you to flee, although one of your number may wish that he had in … oh, about ten seconds…”
“What—?” Jack began.
The door of the shop flew open with a jangling of the bell. Rachel and my mother stumbled inside.
They were grubby, rumpled and clearly exhausted. Mum had somehow lost her shoes. Rachel had a glistening trail of vivid-green slime all across her front and down one leg.
“Oh. Good.” Rachel’s eyes drifted over all of us, and she nodded. “You’re back. Happy to see you again, Shinobu. Nice that you’re not dead or whatever. I’m just going to…” She sat down on the floor, then laid flat and closed her eyes. “Wake me if the world ends.”
“You!” Mum snarled. She dropped her shoulder bag, stalked across the shop to where my father stood and punched him right in the gut. He doubled over with a hoarse wheeze.
“You slimy, arrogant, lying rat! How dare you hide the truth about my own daughter from me? If you ever, ever try to exclude me in this way again, I swear that I will rip out your deceitful tongue and beat you senseless with it. Are we clear, Takashi? Are we?”
“Clear. Absolutely,” Dad gasped, straightening up. “Never again.”
“And another thing—” she began.
I brushed past Shinobu and my dad and flung myself at her.
CHAPTER 19
REUNION
O h, sweetheart,” Mum said, giving me the world’s best hug. One of her hands rubbed my back in the same gentle rhythm she’d been using to comfort me since I was a baby. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. It’s OK now. You’re OK. Everything is going to be fine.”
It wasn’t. It was going to be the exact opposite of fine. The clock hanging on the wall behind her said that it was just gone two, which meant that in less than ten hours, I would have to face Izanagi at the mouth of hell. I would watch Shinobu fall again – this time truly and forever – and then I would have to fight a vicious, evil god. And then I was going to die.
Held in Mum’s arms, I was suddenly ambushed by memories of Okaasan. My first mother. Mum smelled of Chanel No. 5 and dry cleaning. Okaasan had smelled of sandalwood-scented soap and the herbs that her silk kimonos were packed in to keep moths from eating them. Okaasan would never have embraced me in public this way, or argued with my father, or raised a hand to him.
Okaasan was – had been – so very different from Mum. A perfect yamato nadeshiko, the spirit of Japanese womanhood. She had been taller than me, quiet and thoughtful and gentle. Graceful in everything she did. She never made a hurried move, and never raised her voice – not even to me and Shinobu and my two younger brothers. But she was as strong as iron underneath her beauty, and my proud warrior father had asked for and listened to her advice in all important things.
I remembered Okaasan crying over me as I tossed and turned in that final awful fever that took my life. She had held my hand and I had felt the cool drops fall onto my burning skin like snowflakes. It was one of only two occasions in my entire life that I had seen her cry. The other was when Shinobu did not return. When I heard her sobs, I knew I was going to die. I knew I was going to break her heart.
Mum cried all the time. On the right day of the month, a commercial with a puppy in it was enough to set her off. When she was really upset, though, she didn’t cry. She got angry. And she got things done.
Two mothers, centuries apart, without a thing in common except one. Me.
Mum was about to lose her only daughter, exactly as Okaasan had.
I’ll leave our world better and safer than I found it this time. You will be OK, Mum. I promise. You will.
My shoulders shook once, convulsively. But my eyes stayed dry. I’d run out of tears, and I was glad of it. Finally, I eased away from her and forced my mouth into a smile.
“I’m really, really glad that you’re back. Even though I kind of wish you were still safe in Paris.”
“Yes, well I wouldn’t mind being in a nice little cafe somewhere drinking fabulous coffee and eating ridiculously expensive chocolates, either,” Mum admitted. “But only if you and your numbskull of a father were there with me. Mio, why didn’t you tell us the truth and ask for help?”
“I didn’t know how. I didn’t think you – anyone – would believe me. And I thought Dad would blame me and hit the roof.”
“She was actually right about that,” my dad confessed. “Although I got over myself quite quickly, to be fair. Shinobu threatened to gut me if I upset her any more.”
I looked at Shinobu in surprise. “You did?”
His cheeks darkened, and he looked down at his feet.
“So this is Shinobu,” Mum said, letting go of me fully and stepping forward. She looked him slowly up and down, a process which he endured better than I did.
I whined, “Muuuum…”
“Shush, honey. You’re really five hundred years old?” she asked him doubtfully.
“Not really,” Shinobu said in his grave, thoughtful way. “I have only lived seventeen years in the real world.”
“Rachel did say something about that. Come here; let me look at you.” Mum gestured imperiously, and after a moment’s hesitation, Shinobu bent down so that she could cup his face in her small, delicate fingers. She stared up at him, dark gaze piercing. He stayed still, but behind his back I saw his hands find each other and his fingers lace together, as if it was an effort not to fidget. I didn’t blame him.
“Rachel also says that you helped save her and did a lot of other heroic things. I think you must have a great deal of character to have survived everything that’s happened to you, Shinobu, and I’m very grateful for all that you’ve done for my family. But I’m fully aware that you’ve been hanging out in my house with my underage daughter completely unsupervised the whole time I’ve been gone. I will be keeping my eye on you from now on.”
Shinobu nodded respectfully, not moving out of my mother’s grasp. I couldn’t stand it.
“Mum! Shinobu’s been a − a perfect gentleman!”
“And I was there at least some of the time,” my father put in.
“There is no such thing as a perfect gentleman, Mio. And you don’t count, Takashi. You can never tell when Mio’s lying about anything.” She fixed her eyes back on Shinobu. “I’m not saying that I don�
�t approve. But if you’re the sort of young man that I want for my daughter – and I think you are – you won’t have a problem with me looking out for her. When this mess is sorted out, we can get to know each other properly.”
Shinobu nodded again. Mum smiled at him and slid her hands down to pat his shoulders, and he smiled back, his expression a little dazed. Damn. Dazzled by Mum Power.
“‘This mess’ being … the imminent apocalypse?” my dad asked, apparently unable to leave well enough alone.
Mum ignored his tone magnificently. “Yes, that. Now, could anyone else murder a sandwich and a cup of tea? Because I’ve had a heck of a day.”
Jack and Hikaru, who’d retreated to the till area with Ebisu during the family drama, crept out. Jack raised her hand. “I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Hikaru said.
“Ah, the appetites of the young,” Ebisu said, smiling serenely as he limped towards my mother and offered her his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Yamato. You are almost exactly as I had imagined. Let’s go upstairs to my flat and see what we can find to eat, yes?”
“You might want to put me in charge of that,” my dad said, hurrying after them. “She’s a terrible cook.”
“Stuff it,” my mum retorted as Ebisu led her away. “I’m still not talking to you.”
And just like that, our motley crew had another member. My mum.
Sweet baby Jebus, how did this happen?
“Sorry about that,” I whispered to Shinobu.
“Your father – your first father – was a great deal harder on me when I approached him to ask his permission to court you,” Shinobu replied softly. “I do not think your mother will require me to beat her to a standstill in a kenjutsu match.”
“What?” Rachel suddenly jerked upright. “Who? Where? Is the world ending yet?”
“It’s me, you’re in Ebisu’s shop and don’t panic − world-ending is off the lunchtime menu,” Jack said, crouching down next to her. “You OK?”
Rachel rubbed her eyes. “Yeah. Just a bit wrung out. Mrs Yamato is … well, she’s definitely a handful.”
