“It never occurred to me that you of all people would attempt to interfere, Tsukishiro. For what foolish whim do you intend to obstruct the advent of our father?”
Concealing his consternation, Prince Tsukishiro asked casually, “What are you doing here, sister, when you haven’t set foot outside the shrine sanctuary for days?”
Princess Teruhi laughed abruptly, her voice shrill. “Don’t be a fool. When I sought the omens for Saya’s location, didn’t they point directly to within this very palace? Well, at least you saved me the trouble of capturing her myself.”
Her laughter ceased and she fixed her brother with a murderous glare. “You’d better have a good explanation. Why did you try to steal Saya away? You must have some reason when you know full well she’s needed for the sacrifice.”
Seeing that the Prince did not answer, she continued, “Don’t think that I’ll forgive your actions on the basis of your reply. Anyone who tries to thwart me now when my work upon this earth is almost complete is my enemy.”
“You still don’t understand, do you, sister?” Prince Tsukishiro said softly. “I didn’t wish to disillusion you, but as you insist, I’ll speak. I did this because I know the true reason for our father’s descent. He comes to summon the Goddess of Darkness back to the realms above.”
Princess Teruhi’s eyebrows shot up. “Nonsense!”
“No. Although you’re the omen reader, you’ve been so enraptured by our father that you ignored this one fact concealed within all the omens. Or rather, you didn’t attempt to understand it, despite the fact that, from the very beginning, our father’s thoughts have always been centered upon the Goddess.”
“Our purpose on this earth was to cleanse it of all things tainted by the Darkness.”
“Don’t you see? To destroy the power of Darkness is to destroy death. To destroy death is to summon the Goddess before us.” Prince Tsukishiro sounded resigned. “Our celestial father intends to restore everything to its original state, to join earth and heaven once more in chaos and begin all over again. To return the Goddess to his side. While we have no control over that decision, for myself, I wish to gaze on Toyoashihara just a little longer, for it’s beautiful in itself, just as it is.”
An expression of shocked disbelief spread across Princess Teruhi’s face. “The God of Light and the Goddess of Darkness are incompatible. It can’t be. They despise each other.” Walking forward, she stopped directly in front of Prince Tsukishiro and demanded, “Are you saying that all our efforts to purify the earth for so many years have been for the sake of the Goddess of Darkness?”
“It isn’t I who say so. It’s simply the truth. Think carefully about why Saya should be chosen as the final sacrifice.”
For a while, Princess Teruhi did not respond. Then she asked in a strangely quiet voice, “When did you know this?”
“I had an inkling of it some time ago,” Prince Tsukishiro replied.
At that she suddenly shrieked, “I’ve had it with you. Always, always you disappoint me.”
“Teruhi.”
“How, then, could you continue to fight?”
The Prince whispered, “What else could we do but fight?”
Princess Teruhi gripped one hand in the other and bit down on her fingers in an attempt to control her trembling. “I don’t believe it. I won’t believe that the war we have fought is meaningless. I won’t believe that our father’s sacred eyes could be fixed on the filth of Darkness. The God in heaven is pure and stainless. We’re here to worship and praise him.” Her voice suddenly weakened. She murmured as though to herself, “Surely our celestial father must love us.”
Her eyes were hidden in the shadow of her tousled hair. Prince Tsukishiro reached out his hand and gently brushed a lock from her face as though soothing a child. “Of course he does. We’re his children.”
Without raising her face, Princess Teruhi said, “You always speak so lightly.”
“I just can’t bear to see you grieve.”
After a brief pause, she recovered and gave her head a shake. “There’s still much to be done. The war isn’t over yet, and the ceremony is long overdue. The main hall must still be rebuilt, and changes must be made in the purification rite.”
She looked at Saya and then at Prince Tsukishiro and said, “There’ll be no change in the sacrificial offering. And you wouldn’t have been able to give her immortality in any case because she’s too useful as bait. You can be sure that Chihaya will come after her.”
3
THE ROOM in which Saya was imprisoned was at the top of the high wooden tower that stood between Prince Tsukishiro’s and Princess Teruhi’s halls. No doubt the view would have been splendid, but the only windows were small skylights located near the ceiling. Enclosed by four bare walls, she felt suffocated, and like a small bird beating its wings against a cage, she paced unceasingly about the room in search of an opening. Her search was futile, however, and she only succeeded in bruising her fingers. Although she wept occasionally, she did not abandon herself to despair. For, in parting, Princess Teruhi had declared that Chihaya would come. Her predictions inspired a fear that seemed beyond hope, yet Saya still longed to meet Chihaya once more. Regardless of what happened, no matter what the future might bring, it could not stop her from hoping that they would meet again, nor quell her yearning to see his smiling face one last time.
The temperature dropped each night, and piercing cold permeated the unheated room. The guard, pitying her plight, gave her a fur to wrap herself in, but even huddled within it she was frozen. Several days passed in which only the color of the sky glimpsed through the skylight told her of the changing of day to night. Then one particularly cold morning, as she sat huddled in a corner, her feet and hands tucked as close to her body as possible, she heard the sound of the latch opening. Thinking it was the guard coming to collect her dishes, she thought that he would do well to notice the film of ice on the water in the pitcher. But to her surprise, the person who entered the room was none other than Princess Teruhi. The cold air turned her breath frosty white, but she wore only a single robe of thin white cloth, which made Saya shiver just to look at. Princess Teruhi, however, seemed totally unconcerned, and her fair skin had the healthy glow of a peach.
In a clear, sweet voice, she said, “So, we were about to turn the Water Maiden into an ice maiden. I’d forgotten that you need the warmth of charcoal. Never mind. It snowed.”
Saya was well aware that the sleet of the previous day had turned to snow in the night as some of it had actually blown through the skylight. Wondering what the Princess had come to tell her, she stared back at her warily, waiting for her to speak.
“It’s unusual to see so much snow in the first snowfall. Come, let’s go and look at it together.” The sight of her speaking so gaily reminded Saya of the little girl Fawn, and she was taken aback. Somehow this naiveté strangely suited her, and Saya found her heart drawn to her unwillingly as she followed her out of the room. Climbing gingerly down the steep stairs on numb legs, they came to a floor that consisted of an open-walled colonnade from which the scenery could be viewed in all directions. The storm clouds had gone, and beneath the bright silver sky everything was white as though wearing a new coat of paint. The snow was not deep, but it covered every inch of the ground, every crack and cranny. The black thatched roofs and red-lacquered columns of the buildings were accentuated by the white snow’s damp embrace. The ancient green pine trees brooded silently. Even the blackened remnants of the main hall’s columns burned in the summer fire appeared beautiful in the snow. Sounds were muted as though absorbed by silk floss, and in the bright silent morning Mahoroba seemed a different world.
“I love snow, even more than flowers,” Princess Teruhi said lightheartedly as she leaned out over the balustrade. “How white the snow that falls from heaven! I love its coldness, a manifestation of purity. It soothes all troubles away.”
“Children love snow, too. They romp about in it heedless of frostbite,” Say
a said.
“Do you like it, too?”
“Yes. But I like flowers, as well. And summer, and autumn, and everything.”
Princess Teruhi smiled faintly and looked at Saya. “You wish to tell me that you love Toyoashihara. But you know, in my own way, I have also been working for the good of this land.” The Princess continued as though talking to herself. “While I’m a child of the God of Light, this is the only land I know. I often used to imagine when I saw snow fall that this place must be like the palace in the heavens. But most likely I love this view simply because it is all I know.”
She turned once again to gaze at the view, and Saya stared at her back. She lacked her usual arrogance and appeared instead to be deep in thought. “There’s still time,” Saya said frankly. “Won’t you stop the coming of the God of Light?”
“I can’t,” Princess Teruhi responded in a low voice. “No one can bend the will of the God. I am only his child, a demigod.”
“But you understand, don’t you, that his intention to destroy Toyoashihara is wrong? For it is only in cherishing this land, in nurturing it, that he is truly our divine father.”
Princess Teruhi thought for a while but then, instead of replying, she asked Saya a question. “What is the Goddess of Darkness like? Is she beautiful? No, I can’t believe that one who receives all the defilement of the earth can be beautiful or pure. After all, our father was so seized with dread at the sight of her in the underworld that he sealed the opening with a stone. But why, then, does he summon her?”
Saya hesitated and shook her head. “I don’t know. Only those who reside in the Land of the Dead know what she looks like.”
SHE was returned to her room, but the guard brought her a brazier.
Princess Teruhi. She killed my parents; she killed Natsume and the child she bore; she has snuffed out countless innocent lives. And she’ll try to kill me, and Chihaya as well, without any compunction, Saya told herself. She had more than enough reason to despise the Princess, yet she could only pity her. Like a naughty child, she destroyed whatever she laid her hands on without knowing what she had done. Perhaps she would only realize it with surprise after she had lost everything.
But then it will be too late. I can’t just let her kill me. If only I had the power to win back my life. As these thoughts were running through her mind, she caught the faint sound of wings. She raised her head but without much hope, for she had heard this sound so often in her mind. Just then, however, a glossy black beak and head peered through the bars of the window. Folding his wings and squeezing through, the crow dropped down to the floor.
“Here I am,” he said.
A lump rose in Saya’s throat so that she could not respond immediately. “I–I knew you would come. But oh, I’m so glad!”
“Actually, I would have been here much sooner, but I’ve become so well known that there are mist nets hung all around this place. It was hard work making a hole in them.”
“Is anyone else with you?”
“Lord Shinado, Chihaya, and three others. They’re all concealed within the palace in disguise: Lord Shinado as a musician, of course; the three others as servants or soldiers; and, best of all, Chihaya as one of Princess Teruhi’s own handmaidens. We’ll open the gate tomorrow at sunset, and the army of Darkness will invade the palace.”
“What about the purification ceremony?”
“It’s scheduled for the day after. I have no intention of allowing you to be sacrificed. That’s the most disgusting ceremony I’ve ever seen.”
“Please stop them. I don’t want to be the one who summons the God of Light.”
Suddenly she began to tremble. It was a strange time to feel afraid, but the hope of imminent rescue seemed to have multiplied her fear.
“Do you think Chihaya will be all right? A handmaiden of all things! He mustn’t underestimate Princess Teruhi.”
“Don’t worry. He disguised himself well. You wouldn’t recognize him,” Torihiko replied, cheerfully spreading his wings. “He isn’t stupid. Although there are times when he seems so.”
“That’s true.” Saya tried to smile only to realize that her cheeks had become stiff over the last few days.
“My job is to mobilize all my underlings and get you out of here. A pretty good role, don’t you think? It’s going to be spectacular. I have such an army of birds it would take you your whole life to count them. Together we’ll lower you to the ground.”
“Can you really do it?” Saya’s eyes were wide with astonishment.
“Just wait and see.” And with a flap of his wings he flew up to the window.
“I’m so excited!” Saya cried.
“That’s the spirit. The woodpeckers will come as soon as I leave. It’ll be a bit noisy but be patient.”
Now that her spirits were raised, Saya desperately wished there was something she could do. To simply sit and wait to be rescued seemed the least attractive role to play. “Wait!” she called out impulsively, longing to contribute in some way. She removed the Water Maiden’s magatama from around her neck and held it out to Torihiko. “Give this to Chihaya for me. Tell him to keep it until we meet again.”
The crow flew down and grasped the blue stone in his beak. “Right. I’ll take it to him.”
Once he had left, a flock of woodpeckers came, just as he had said. They clung to the window frame and began patiently pecking at it with their beaks.
THE NEXT DAY was also cold and snow still covered the ground. Chihaya knelt on the verandah, pretending to gaze at the garden, while Lord Shinado, having checked to make sure the coast was clear, passed by casually.
“A performance is to be held at noon,” Lord Shinado whispered rapidly.
“But this is the period of abstinence!”
“Teruhi knows nothing about it. It’s Prince Tsukishiro’s plan.”
Chihaya thought a moment before replying. “This will make it easier for us to act.”
“Inform the other three. I plan to stay in my place until the last moment.”
Without changing his expression, Lord Shinado proceeded along the passageway. Chihaya rose after waiting a little longer and stole into Prince Tsukishiro’s palace. People hurried up and down the connecting passages. The palace had always been short staffed, but its elegance had gradually declined since the fire. The complaint of the elderly that this was a degenerate age was not necessarily an idle one. Although the capital surrounding it still retained an air of grandeur, within the Palace of Light something had been broken and irretrievably lost. Certainly the fact that the two immortals no longer paid attention played a major role in its decline. Princess Teruhi had not returned to her quarters for a long time, remaining closeted in the reconstructed shrine. Because of this, Chihaya had been able to pass himself off as a novice without being challenged, but it was not pleasant to see how lax discipline had become in the handmaidens’ quarters.
Even without being attacked by the army of Darkness, this place would fall into ruin. It would have been better that way, Chihaya thought as he stopped in a corner of the passageway and watched the people passing by.
“Excuse me. If you have a moment, perhaps you could help me?”
A handmaiden he had never seen before suddenly spoke to him. She was just an innocent young girl; probably a novice such as he was pretending to be. “I didn’t know that there was to be a recital today and I have no idea what I’m to do.”
Red-faced, she was on the verge of tears. “No one here cares about anyone else. I’ve only just entered service in the palace, yet they tell me I must dance. I don’t even know which fan I’m supposed to use. And then they tell me that anyone who makes a mistake will be executed on the spot.”
“In that case, fear no more,” Chihaya reassured her. “I will teach you.”
The girl’s face shone. “How kind of you! Are you one of the dancers, too?”
“No.”
The girl looked up at him a little bashfully. “But how strange. You would make a much
better dancer than I. You’re so tall and beautiful.”
“I’m one of Princess Teruhi’s handmaidens,” Chihaya explained.
The girl covered her mouth in consternation. “Oh! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such a thing of you.”
Chihaya grinned and said, “But only you and I need ever know.”
AT NOON the sun, a silver disk bereft of warmth, peered through the clouded sky. It remained cold, and the frozen landscape spread out in all directions. The sound of string and wind instruments hung in the frosty air, echoing mysteriously. Prince Tsukishiro had had cushions placed around the veranda on the south side of the hall. Here he sat with the assembled guests, watching the dancers perform in the inner courtyard while the musicians played on a platform set up alongside a connecting passageway. The Prince himself, however, did not appear to be enjoying the music. Rather, he seemed deep in thought, his arm laid along the armrest as he stared at the performers. The musicians were infected by his mood and, despite the gay costumes of the dancers, the music assumed a melancholy air.
This is indeed farewell, thought Lord Shinado as he played his reed pipes. Win or lose, this is the last performance for the forces of Light and Darkness.
“You there!” Prince Tsukishiro spoke without bothering to look at the musicians. “You’re flat. Didn’t you know that I’m musician enough to tell?”
Before anyone had had time to even grasp his meaning, armored guards leaped out and surrounded the musicians’ platform. Some musicians dropped their instruments in surprise, the music came to a sudden standstill, and the dancers stood trembling.
The soldiers stood over the musicians, their spears held ready, but, perplexed about which musician the Prince had indicated, one of them asked, “Which one has offended you?”
“He knows who I mean,” Prince Tsukishiro replied. The commander queried the musicians, but no one responded.
“It doesn’t matter,” Prince Tsukishiro said listlessly. “Behead them all, starting at the end.”
Dragon Sword and Wind Child Page 28
