by Paul Kidd
Sura found a table and set herself down, leaning her orange-bladed spear against the wall beside her. After a moment’s hesitation, a maid came over to bow, keeping her eyes upon the floor.
“Honoured guests. How may I serve you?”
Tonbo settled himself down upon a bench, his armour clanking “Tea. Noodles.”
“Kitsune noodles!” Sura happily set aside her hat. “With a fried egg and double onions!”
The maid bowed and backed away. She moved behind the serving bench and began an urgent, whispered conversation with the old woman who cooked the noodles. Other villagers hastened to finish their meals, setting coins on tables as they all remembered appointments elsewhere. Sura sat back to watch them all leave. Not one would meet Sura’s eye.
“Well this is comfy. I can see why the tourist trade dropped off.”
Bowls of noodles appeared – each with a fried egg on top, and two triangles of fried spiced tofu jutted up out of the bowls. Sura stropped her chopsticks, seized hold of her egg and eagerly engulfed it.
The inn mistress’s son, Domei, sat at a far table with two empty bottles of sakē before him. The young man rubbed at the hideous scar that deformed his face. He flashed a glance at Sura, then instantly looked away.
The man suddenly rose from his seat and turned to leave. Sura amiably waved a hand in his direction.
“Domei san! Good morning!”
The man hesitated. He caught Sura’s eye for one brief, significant instant, then stalked quietly from the room. He could be heard in the entrance, tying his snow boots into place, and then the man was gone.
Sura swiftly crammed her noodles down her throat and drank the soup, keeping an eye upon the door. She slid up out of her seat, stretched and yawned, then leaned over to murmur softly into Tonbo’s ear.
“That man wants to tell us something.” The fox idled as if she had not a concern in the world. “Give me three minutes – then follow me carefully. Stay out of sight.”
Kuno frowned.
“The holiday is forgotten?”
“I’m on my lunch break.”
Sura took her spear and idled over to the doors. She tied on her straw boots before meandering quietly out into the street.
Domei was nowhere to be seen. Villagers had tramped the snow flat in front of the tea shop, heading down the street towards their homes. But a single set of tracks led down the side of the tea shop, trodden through fresh, deep snow. Sura looked along the street – saw nothing but a few villagers hastening away – and casually wandered to the alley entrance.
No one seemed to be watching. Sura knelt to check her boots, flicking a clandestine eye across the street. Content that she was not in any immediate danger, the fox rose and stepped down the alleyway. She pushed awkwardly through deep snow that had fallen from rooves on either side, coming out into an odd, untidy set of yards that lurked behind the street.
There were a few farm houses nearby, with tree thickets and snow-covered fields butted up against the forest. A single line of tracks headed towards a copse of berry bushes and snow-smothered plum trees.
Sura moved swiftly out and dropped to one knee behind a bush, scanning the terrain for danger. She could see nothing moving, nothing threatening… and yet there was a strange sense of being watched. The fox held her spear at the ready, her tail giving a suspicious swish across the snow.
The door of a nearby farm hut nudged open, and a little puppy – all eyes and paws – came blundering out into the snow. The creature yapped and pounced, scuffing about and playing – full of bounce and life.
A young teenage boy dashed out of the house, racing to seize hold of the pup. He gathered the little creature up in his arms, then caught sight of Sura kneeling in the snow nearby. The boy stared at her in shock.
An older woman raced out of the hut. She swept the boy up into her robes, hiding him away. The woman spared a fearful glance for Sura, then searched the woods and peaks. She hastened boy and puppy indoors, and swiftly shut the door.
Sura rose from behind the bushes, looking towards the farm hut, with a thoughtful scowl. The fox leaned on her spear and pondered.
Suddenly a scream of terror came from the thicket ahead. The fox was instantly on the move, spear ready, racing forwards through the snow. She followed the single set of tracks as she ploughed onwards, leaping high across the drifts.
She burst into a clearing amidst trees and snow. Domei lay splayed on the ground, frozen inside a shimmering block of ice. The fox instantly swirled her spear and cast a spell, power crackling through the winter air.
“One Tao, one sight, one world, one mind.
Let the hidden souls come forth.
Let ghosts appear to mortal eyes…”
Sura whipped two fingers along her spear haft. A rippling cone of distortion shot forth from the blade. There was a flash of light from deeper in the thicket, and the silhouette of a woman in suikan robes shimmered briefly in the gloom. The figure threw up one hand, and the snow in the branches above Sura’s head came cascading down upon her. Sura floundered free, shaking snow from her eyes.
It was too late: the hidden woman had gone. Sura scanned her spear across the trees, but nothing could be seen. There were no tracks in the snow – no marks or footprints. The fox advanced to the nearest trees and searched again, but the other woman had vanished.
“Damn it!”
Sura ploughed her way back to Domei’s side and knelt beside him. The man lay on his back with a look of terror and astonishment on his face. He was frozen solid, encased in a sheath of ice at least four handbreadths deep.
Footsteps flitted through the snow behind her – from a different direction to the mysterious silhouette. Sura whipped about, spear in one hand and a shuriken spike poised to throw in the other. But there was no attack – no flash of movement. The steps receded swiftly, and the thicket was still once more.
Sura shimmered and changed into her half fox, half human form. She moved carefully forward to where she had heard the footsteps. The fox sniffed carefully, her black nose testing at the breeze.
Something flickered at the edge of her sight. The fox moved forward to a tree. A few long strands of ice-white hair were caught in the bark.
A white handprint made of ice had also been left upon the tree bark. It had been made by a slender hand – decidedly feminine. Sura collected the stray hairs and sniffed, sensing the slightest hint of female scent.
Tonbo, Kuno and Chiri came running into the thicket, showering snow wildly about them. Daitanishi zipped through the trees ahead, looking angrily about. Kuno had his sword drawn. Chiri sent Bifuuko whirring up high to check for danger, while Tonbo thundered forward to stand by Sura and cover her.
There were no enemies to be found. Sura forged over to Domei’s body and knelt at his side.
Tonbo joined her, looking grimly down at the twisted, frozen figure in the snow. He leaned upon his tetsubo and brushed snow away from the young man’s face.
“Dead?”
“I don’t know. He’s frozen! Completely frozen!” Sura’s expression was dire. She handed the long white hairs to Tonbo. “Female hair.”
Tonbo carefully inspected the hairs.
“White.” He looked thoughtfully off to the trees. “Your old priestess?”
“She’d have to be moving damned fast for an old lady. Whoever did this was gone like magic.”
Bifuuko returned from zooming about the treetops, then whispered into Chiri’s ear. The rat spirit nodded before joining the others at the centre of the thicket.
Chiri kept glancing toward the shadows as she made her report.
“There are tracks in two places, but they seem to disappear.” The rat spirit turned her head, ever careful. “Perhaps the culprit moved through the branches?”
Sura gave a sigh. “Perhaps.”
The fox laid a hand upon Domei’s body. Her tail gave a slow thrash.
“He was a brave man. He knew this was what he risked.” Sura looked off towards the
trees. “Now I really wonder what he had to say?”
Tonbo looked down at the body.
“What can freeze a body solid?”
“An elemental mage.” Chiri nodded softly. “A shugenja specializing in water magics. She could summon a spell from snow and ice.”
Sura looked at the white hairs that had been caught against the tree.
“Kuno. Your flute player had black hair?”
The samurai flicked her a glance of irritation. “I have already said so.”
The fox gave a nod. “Then let us go and find the old priestess.”
But first, there was duty to be done. Sura pushed clear some snow and knelt beside Domei. She circled her hands, and a gleaming yin-yang symbol shimmered in the air before her.
Sura bowed her head and prayed.
“Peace. Let no souls grieve…”
She made her prayer, then gave a solemn bow. They would have to find the inn mistress and bring her the body. But this would have to wait, with urgent business to be done. Sura arose, slapped snow from her knees, then took up her spear, leading the way towards the strange graveyard nearby.
The field of miniature statues was quite smothered in snow – merely a strange, undulating stretch of open snow. But through the trees just beyond the shrine stood an eccentric old house. A shed held rocks and mason’s chisels – apparently ready for the making of more statues. A small pond was somehow still unfrozen – apparently heated by a leak of warm water from below.
The old priestess was at her shed, collecting an armload of firewood. Seeing the Spirit Hunters approach, she gave a slight, weary bow and headed for the house. Opening the door she stood waiting patiently for her guests.
The Spirit Hunters bowed and entered. Bifuuko and Daitanishi kept close beside Chiri as the rat spirit removed her boots before entering the house. The old priestess never said a word. She walked over to a wide stone fireplace in the centre of the room and settled down beside it. Leaning over she placed a log upon the fire, stirring up the coals.
A fire elemental was dozing in the embers – a mottled thing, part ash, part coals, shaped like a salamander. Sura knelt by the hearth, keeping a wary eye both on the elemental and the priestess. The other Spirit Hunters knelt behind her. They all bowed to the priestess, and the old woman bowed gravely in return.
She seemed vague and tired. Sura – still in half-fox, half-human form, gave a formal nod.
“Honoured priestess. We have just discovered the body of the innkeeper’s son, Domei. He is in the plum thicket. His body has been completely frozen.” Sura inclined her head. “We regret to inform you that he is dead. I have prayed to set his soul at rest.”
The old woman said nothing, as though she were deliberately ignoring the news. She merely ordered the pile of firewood beside the hearth. Sura watched for a moment, then spoke once again – quietly insistent.
“Priestess – one of your villagers has been frozen.”
The old priestess hung her head, long white hair trailing to the floor about her face.
“Domei san…?” The priestess gave a world weary sigh. “That is sad news. How his mother will bear it, I cannot tell. I must go and be with her.”
Tonbo gave a nod.
“We must summon your head man – your magistrate.”
“We have none.” The old priestess quietly stirred the coals. “In as much as we need a leader, I serve.”
Sura watched the old woman in great suspicion. The tip of her tail gave a twitch.
“You have not asked us how Domei san came to be frozen.”
The priestess shrugged.
“You are people of honour. I do not suspect you of his murder. Had your spells struck him down, you would hardly come to find the poor boy a priest.”
Sura stood. She walked over to examine a scroll that hung upon the wall – a beautiful depiction of air elementals dancing in the steam of a spring. She kept a quiet eye upon the fire elemental that watched her from the coals.
“You are a shugenja, priestess? An elemental magician?”
The old woman flicked a hand towards the hearth.
“My specialty is flame. Flame and earth. In my poor way I try to keep peace with the mountain. I am insufficient to the task.” She rose abruptly to her feet. “If you will forgive me, I must find men to bring in Domei, and bring the news to his mother.”
Sura turned, smoothing at her whiskers.
“Your student.... She died – what? Seven years ago?”
“Yes.” The old priestess turned away. “The subject is painful. Please desist.”
Chiri suddenly spoke. Her soft voice stopped the priestess in her tracks.
“Honoured priestess. Your dead student. She was a water mage, was she not?”
The old priestess kept her face turned away. “She was many things.”
The rat’s voice was polite – but unyielding.
“Forgive me my disrespect, but you have not answered my question.”
The old woman flicked a dark glance at Chiri.
“You are impertinent, girl!” The priestess turned to Sura. “Colleague – we thank you for attending to our brother’s body. Do not harass the villagers with your constant questions and interference. This is a time of mourning.” She gathered a walking staff and pulled open the door. “Let yourselves out.”
The old woman left the house, stalking off towards the thickets without once looking back.
Sura sidled over to a shelf, and tried to look entirely innocent as she peered into nooks and crannies. The fire elemental watched her with suspicion, keeping the fox under its eye.
Tonbo found a comb lying on a chest at one side of the room. There were a few white hairs caught in the tines. Sura saw what the man was up to and hastened beside him, trying to block the fire elemental’s view.
The fox produced the long hairs found at the murder site. They compared them with those from the old priestess’ comb. Seen side by side, the hairs were clearly different. The hairs in the comb where a silver-grey, while those from the thicket were a more brilliant, blueish-white.
Tonbo gave a thoughtful growl.
“Not a good match.”
“No…” Sura looked toward the door. “But she is hiding a great deal.”
Kuno stood and waited for the others to join him at the door. He glowered at Sura in impatience.
“We should leave. We are not welcome here. It is disrespectful to interfere with this woman’s belongings.”
Sura gave a reluctant sigh, and waved a hand at the fire elemental. “I suppose. Plus Fido here will have something to say about it if we make a proper search.” She frowned in irritation. “So where does that leave us?”
Kuno squared his shoulders. “In search of a female shugenja. One with white hair. Not black.”
“And helping the villagers out with Domei.” Sura gave a sigh. “I’ll go and assist with the body.”
Tonbo gave a grunt.
“Good. We three will search the woods. There may be some sign of tracks.
Chiri joined Kuno out on the porch, putting her boots on once again. Kuno’s manner was agitated and annoyed. The rat spirit looked at him in gentle concern.
“Kuno san – your flute player. If she saved you, then perhaps she might help us further? We could seek her out and ask her for information?”
Kuno tied his boots about his shins. “I have not seen her in the village. And after this, I do not think the villagers will care to speak with us.”
He rose and stalked off. Chiri watched him, torn with distress. She looked away and gave a little sigh.
“Kuno san does not approve of our line of investigations.”
Sura watched the man go, and thoughtfully sucked on a fang. “Kuno san has a bug up his arse.” She saw that Tonbo was ready to go. “Tonbo – keep an eye on Kuno. Chiri and I will finish up here.”
Tonbo nodded, shouldered his tetsubo and marched off in pursuit of Kuno. Sura turned back to make a last scan of the room. She wandered over
to the hearth and made certain that the fire elemental had a decent bed of coals. She passed a chunk of deep red, glowing embers to the elemental, and the creature crunched upon it slowly, thoughtfully eying the fox.
Sura left the room and closed the door behind her. She lashed her footwear into place, keeping an eye upon the village beyond the thickets.
The fox was deep in thought.
“Let us take it as read that this village is keeping a secret. For some reason, they want to keep it absolutely secret.”
Chiri suddenly sat stiff and straight. A thought dawned.
“Sura san. What do you think about the villagers?”
The fox looked up from tying her boots. “Give me another couple of hours and I’m willing to start kicking them.”
“Excuse me, Sura san, but think!” The rat was quite amazed at herself for having missed the obvious for so long. “Have you seen any young men? Any at all? There are young boys, girls and women – but no one other than Domei who is a man beneath fifty or sixty!”
Sura sank back down onto the bench, blinking in amazement. Chiri nodded, looking back towards the graveyard.
“The memorial cairns were all to men. But there are no men in the village!” The rat spirit blinked. “They have all died?”
Sura closed her eyes, nodding in agreement. “And the dates were spread out over a few years...”
The fox surged up onto her feet.
“I saw one boy, about fourteen. That’s all. He ran indoors the moment he was seen…”
There were no young men – no men in the prime of life.
None at all.
Chiri stood beside Sura, and gave a determined nod.
“Something strange has happened here. We must think on it. We must be vigilant.”
There was work to be done. Domei’s body had to be collected and brought to the shrine. Prayers needed to be said and rituals done. Sura took up her spear, and let Daitanishi settle on her shoulder. She linked arms with Chiri, and the two animal spirits set off towards the village, walking onward through the cold.
