by Wen Spencer
“Nobu!” She called out, weirdly sure that none of these kids were him. They seemed too young, barely more than toddlers.
“They’re not human.” Atsumori drew his katana.
The children leapt to the walls and ceiling and scurried like a black wave up the stairs to the second floor. They moved with a loud rustle of claws on wood that raised the hair on the back of her neck.
“Oh holy fuck!” Pixii gasped.
“What are they?” Nikki charged after the monstrous children. Where was Nobu? What had they done to him? Was he dead already? In the scene, he’d been on the second floor.
“Spider-whore young,” Atsumori said. “Careful. Their mother won’t be far.”
“If she hurts him, I’ll kill her,” Nikki snarled.
The second floor was one room with a large open window looking out over the street. A hoko was rolling past, the upper deck level with the window. Nikki caught a flash of something large disappearing up onto the roof of the building. The rustle of claws went overhead as the monstrous spiders ran across the roof.
Nobu was pinned to the wall with strands of silk. He was making frightening little whines. She cut him down, and he clung to her, still making the noise.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She realized she was speaking English. “Atsumori, ask him if he’s hurt.”
It took several minutes to establish that he wasn’t hurt, just scared to death.
As they tried to calm him down, she realized that she’d managed to alter his ending. She had saved him. She could see the future and then change it.
When Nobu finally started to talk, he bawled “I told her!” over and over again.
“Told her what?”
“She wanted to know if I’d ever seen any monsters before. I—I—I told her Haru saw monsters all the time. Then she asked if he’d ever seen any gods. And I told her—I told her that Haru had seen Susanoo.”
Shijo-dori was completely blocked off and the crowd filled the sidewalks, held back by low wooden fences in some places, yellow tape in others. Of course the good Japanese people were allowing the flimsy barrier to actually hold them in check while gaijins stepped over it to take their pictures until police shooed them back into place.
Atsumori shimmered inside of her, leery of possible attackers in the crowd. Nikki could understand all the random comments around her that she knew had to be in Japanese. She pushed her way through the thickly packed crowds to the curb and then realized she’d lost the others.
The parade had already started. One of the big floats was stopped before an official who stood in full ceremonial robes under a bright red umbrella. A boy marched up to the official. He wore the pale blue kamishimo over a white kimono that functioned as the parade’s official uniform. He cut a cord wrapped around a small box that he was holding. Stiffly, the boy put away his dagger, opened the box and held it out to the official while bowing.
Nikki gazed upwards. The pole that rose up from the top of the float had a crescent moon at its tip. This was the Tsuki Hoko, dedicated to Susanoo’s brother, god of the moon.
The official had taken a scroll from the box, read it, and nodded. The boy took a fan from his belt, flicked it open, and signaled the crew on the float that they were cleared to move. Two teams in white shoes and shorts, a white festival happi and straw hats, over twenty men on each team, had been crouched on the ground. They stood now, picking up two massive pull ropes. Bracing themselves, they waited for two men standing on the front of the float holding fans. Together the crew leaders waved their fans. “Not yet.” They called to signal the teams to get ready. “Okay, here we go!”
The pullers heaved on their ropes, and the great float shuddered and then creaked slowly forward on its wooden wheels. Once moving, Newton’s first law took over and the massive cart rolled down the street.
Miriam caught up with her. “Atsumori has to be doing something to let you go through the crowd like that. I think we lost Pixii.”
“I’m here!” Pixii pushed her way out of the crowd, a small package of fury wrapped in a colorful yukata. “Damn, Japanese might be polite to your face, but my God, they get handsy in a crowd.”
“This is Tsuki Hoko.” Nikki pointed up to the crescent moon. “Naginata Hoko is somewhere ahead.”
Nikki started to turn back to merge back into the crowd. Atsumori, though, had her step over the yellow tape that was strung at knee level.
“We do not have time to go that way,” he said. “Come. I will deal with anyone who objects.”
“No killing people! There’re ten thousand cameras on us right now, and we haven’t even unsheathed the katana yet.”
“Cameras will not see us,” Atsumori reminded her as he took off in as long a stride as the yukata allowed. “I wish we were in your normal garments. This is not what I would chose to fight in.”
“I did not pick these clothes,” Nikki reminded him. “Beggers cannot be choosers.”
“We look sexy.” Pixii trotted to keep up.
“If we get into a fight, I’m stripping,” Miriam growled.
Pixii laughed. “You strip and there’s going to be a whole lot more cameras than ten thousand trained on us.”
“I at least have a bra on,” Miriam pointed out.
“Like anyone would even look at me with the wonder twins out to play.”
“I am not big-chested!”
“We’re in Japan!” Pixii said. “Everything is smaller.”
“Can we not have this discussion now?” Nikki cried, throwing up her hands.
They passed a smaller float, one being led by a troop of child musicians wearing headbands, lime-green happi and colorful shorts. For some reason they reminded Nikki of frogs. Miserable frogs, as the sun was baking off the asphalt, pushing the temperature toward the mid-nineties, at least.
Beyond the children, they were intercepted by a police officer with a black cap and white gloves. He waved them toward the curb with his pristine hands.
“Go back behind . . .”
“You are to let us pass.” Atsumori reached out and put a hand on the officer’s chest. “We have important business, and you will not delay us.”
The police officer swallowed hard and bowed slightly. “I see. Go on your way then.”
“These are not the droids you are looking for,” Miriam murmured as they continued.
They passed two small yama floats and reached the intersection of Kawaramachi-dori. There was a big hoko being prepared to make the ninety-degree turn. Slats of bamboo were being placed under the massive fixed wooden wheels and made slick with water. The pullers had looped the heavy rope around the front of the float and moved up the street. With the team leaders shouting instructions and coordinated fan waves, the crews dragged the front of the great cart sideways.
Nikki stared upwards at the tall cart, trying to tell which one it was as it slewed through the turn. There was a doll in place of a celestial child, face painted white, robed in a rich kimono and wearing a massive gold crown.
“This is Kanko Hoko,” Atsumori stated. “It is always the fifth float.”
She glanced ahead. There were another three small yama floats and, far in the distance, the Naginata Hoko.
Nikki strode forward, eyes locked on the lumbering cart ahead. She felt like she was chasing an annoyingly fast-moving, massive turtle. They were gaining on it, but slowly. What was she going to do when they caught it? Climb up onto it and try to search Haru for the spear? Yeah, yeah, that would go over well. There were probably twenty men on the float, not counting the four on the roof. Another forty were pulling the cart, and at least a dozen were overseeing the movement of the cart. In other words, there was a small army between her and Haru. Add in the facts that the silly thing was three stories tall, moving at a steady clip, and she was afraid of heights. Scaling it was so not going to happen.
So, follow and protect him until Susanoo took back the spear? When would that be? After the parade? Tonight when the mikoshi were carried to the center of the city
? When they were returned to the shrine at the end of the festival? Next year when another celestial child was chosen?
She couldn’t spend a year of her life protecting Haru. She couldn’t even stay in the country legally for more than thirty days.
And she needed to find Leo. Tell Shiva what she knew. Get him out of the cage. Get him some water. Tell him that she loved him. Then flee the country before Shiva or her mother could nail her down.
“Three o’clock.” Pixii picked up her pace.
Nikki frowned. No, it wasn’t even noon yet. Then she saw the dark knot of men pushing their way through the crowd to the right. There seemed to be a never-ending wave of men coming up from the subway station. “Oh shit!”
She started to trot, closing the gap, though she didn’t want to get into a sword fight in front of half of Kyoto.
The cart that been proceeding at a snail’s pace decided at that moment to stop. The pulling crew started preparations for the elaborate turn. The musicians were still ringing their bells and playing flutes. No one on the float seemed to be aware of the oncoming attack.
“Game plan?” Pixii pulled two short batons from the back of her obi.
Like she had one. “Protect Haru. Don’t get killed.”
“That’s it, I’m stripping,” Miriam muttered.
“Wait.” Atsumori checked Miriam with a wave of the hand, and suddenly they were all wearing different clothing. Miriam and Pixii were in shrine maiden uniforms of red hakama pants and short white kimono tops. Nikki was in red kamishimo over a black kimono. Atsumori drew his katana and faced off against the wave of dark-suited males.
The watching crowd burst into applause.
Half of the oncoming men faltered. Obviously they were human yakuza and hadn’t been warned about needing to face an angry boy god.
“Halt!” Atsumori thundered, and his shout rolled over the crowd and echoed off the distant hills.
“No, we won’t,” the largest of the tanuki snarled. He flicked his hand, and an unsheathed katana appeared in it. It reminded Nikki that they weren’t true creatures of flesh and blood. Their bodies were only solid illusions. “Humans aren’t willing to share this world. They’ve grown powerful enough to hunt us down, one by one. They kill us for no other reason than we’re not one of them. We’ve had enough. It’s time for a change. Stand aside. This is not your fight, kami.”
“You made it my fight when you murdered my people and burned my shrine!” Atsumori charged. Power surged into them, like they’d drunk down the sun. Nikki shouted in surprise and fear.
“When they grow strong enough,” the leader tanuki yelled. “They’ll turn on you!”
Atsumori’s katana struck the tanuki’s sword and sheered through it with an impact that Nikki felt up her arms. The leader’s howl of pain was cut short as the blade continued, slicing through the male. There was no impact this time. The katana cut through him like paper. He shredded into pieces and blew away on a rising storm wind.
The crowd clapped again.
The rest of the tanuki surged forward. Pixii flicked her batons, and they extended out into long clubs. Miriam shifted into a defensive position. Nikki leapt to meet the yokai, determined to take the brunt of the attack. Out the corner of her eye, she saw three cops rushing into the fray, and then all she could see and think about was the tanuki she was fighting. They were trying to overwhelm her with sheer numbers.
The escort for the yama float, all in the light blue kamishimos, reached the edge of the fight and waded into the tanuki.
“Nikki!” Miriam’s shout caught Nikki’s attention. “The float!”
Nikki whirled, slicing through the tanuki, and looked to the Naginata Hoko. The men on the cart were ignoring the fight, or maybe just trying to get the cart away from the growing mob of fighters. The hoko’s team was focused on the front axle as they worked to slide the cart sideways on the wet bamboo slats. Two tanuki had mounted the rear axle. A long red tapestry fringed with bright blue tassels hung down from the roofline nearly to the massive wheels. The tanuki scrambled up the back as if the edge of the tapestry were a rope.
“I do not know how we’re going to get up there with just one hand,” Nikki shouted at Atsumori as they raced toward the float. “Unless you’re suddenly able to make us fly.”
He held out his katana, and the sheath leaped from the pavement to slide onto the blade. The sheath then tied itself to their belt.
“Or we could do that,” Nikki said.
The music grew erratic as the tanuki reached the top. All the musicians sat facing inward, the loud chimes drowning out the fight. Now they suddenly had a stranger in their midst.
Nikki scrambled up the spokes of the back wheels, trying to think only of Haru and not the fact that she was about to climb up the outside of a mobile three-story structure. As she grabbed the edge of the tapestry, the entire cart suddenly jerked and swayed hard to the left. They’d made the turn! She squeaked in terror as she dangled from the tapestry and the right-side wheels lifted off the ground. For a sickening moment, she thought the cart was going to keep falling to the left, crushing her.
“Get right!” someone shouted overhead. “Right!”
She glanced upwards to see the men on the roof scrambling to the right side. The wheels thudded back to pavement, and the cart shook hard.
The music stopped altogether, and one of the musicians suddenly went flying down to land heavily on the ground. Haru started to scream, a thin and panicky sound.
Nikki swallowed hard on her fear and scrambled up into the cart.
One of the tanuki was holding a gun on the remaining musicians while the other held Haru pinned to the ground.
“Stop the kami!” the one pinning the boy growled.
The one with the gun opened fire.
Nikki flinched out of instinct. The bullets flared and became butterflies.
“That doesn’t work!” Nikki shouted and leapt at him.
The yokai had height and weight on her. As they grappled, the other covered Haru’s face with one hand and pulled. The shaft of a spear appeared, and the tanuki grasped it tight and yanked upwards. Haru wailed in fear and pain.
Lightning suddenly whitewashed Nikki’s vision. She was vaguely aware of flying backwards out of the cart. She landed hard and lay for a moment on the hot cement. Black clouds boiled in the previously clear sky.
“Nikki-chan?” Atsumori shimmered within her.
“Oh, I think he knows.”
“He definitely knows.”
There was a flare of brilliance and an immediate crack and boom as another bolt of lightning struck feet from Nikki. A tanuki vanished in the flare of brilliance.
“Nikki-chan, I do not think I can protect you from him. Leave me and go.”
“No,” Nikki snapped and scrambled to her feet. She needed him too much. She couldn’t hope to save everyone by herself. People were running in all directions. Ten thousand people trying to get away with no idea which direction “away” lay. The tanuki with the spear was nowhere in sight.
“Damn it. Which way did he go?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sensing the spear.”
“Shit!” Another bolt of lightning struck a nearby tanuki that been grappling with five men in pale blue parade kamishimos. The tanuki vanished, instantly dissipated, and the men were flung back, dazed.
The effect on the crowd was amazing—instantly everyone fled away from the float, and Nikki found herself nearly alone in the intersection.
36
Mother Dearest
Leo heard her coming. High Heels. Strong stride. The angry walk of a well-dressed woman. He sat up, trying to wet his mouth. He was so damn thirsty that it was hard to think. The need for water was making his head pound in time with her footsteps. It was nearly nine again, but he still didn’t know if that was morning or night.
The far door boomed open, and a woman marched up to the cage. She was dressed in an expensive business suit and highlighted with diamonds. She had t
hree-inch heels that looked like they could be classified as lethal weapons. Leo stared at her in confusion. Who was this? Certainly he’d never heard of anyone in Shiva like her.
Williams ghosted in behind her and hid in the shadows, probably out of habit.
The woman glared at him. “Where is my daughter? What have you done with her?”
“Daughter?”
“Nikki Delany. You checked into an onsen in Izushi with a woman matching her description. Where is she? What did you do with her?”
He could see the family resemblance now. He had thought Nikki had gotten the chin from her father; it had seemed too strong for a woman. When she was angry, like this woman was now, she stuck it out, almost daring the world to take a swing. The same honey gold hair but bobbed short. The same striking blue eyes, but in her mother, they were laser cutting beams.
All his senses were telling him that this was Nikki’s mother, but it warred with the knowledge that he was still in a cage in one of Shiva’s strongholds. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for my daughter. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” he was able to say truthfully enough. Nikki would have left the love hotel long ago. Maybe days ago. He’d lost track of time. “How did you get here?”
“I’m asking the questions.”
“I don’t know.” He realized he’d already said that. He scrubbed at his face.
“You were supposed to bring her in.”
Obviously it didn’t occur to her that he might have good reason not to trust Shiva with anyone’s freedom. “I was focused on finding my father. He’s dying. I need to save him.”
The woman started to pace, her footsteps loud on the cement floor.
“The staff at the onsen said you had a katana with you. Is that the one from the Kyoto shrine?”
How much did this woman know about what her daughter had been plunged into? Normally Shiva operated on a strict need-to-know policy. He’d been far more up-front with Nikki than most operatives would have been.
“Answer me!” the woman shouted. “Was the katana at the onsen a shintai for a kami? Your Sensitive rating is high enough that even as a half-blood you would be able to tell.”
