‘No,’ Darragh replied. He seemed intrigued by the possibility. ‘Is that a problem in this realm?’
Pete smiled at that. This kid is either a complete loon or a genius, he thought.
Annad sniffed inelegantly before asking, ‘Ever talk to another person or hear other voices inside your head that nobody else can hear?’
‘I would be quite mad if I did, wouldn’t I?’
‘Is that a yes or a no?’
‘A most definite no,’ Darragh assured him. ‘Does that disappoint you, Doctor? You seem to be fishing for an answer I am unable to provide.’
‘Does it bother you that I don’t appear to believe you when you tell me about your alternate reality?’
Darragh shook his head. ‘How could you know about it?’
‘You seem to know a lot about this reality for someone who claims he’s only been here a few days.’
‘That is because I have shared the Comhroinn with my brother.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It is the mental sharing that allows us to know each other completely.’
‘I see,’ Annad said, leaning back in his chair. ‘Could you and I have this sharing? This Comhroinn?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it wouldn’t work.’
‘Why wouldn’t it work? Because we are not brothers?’
‘It wouldn’t work because there is no magic in this reality,’ Darragh pointed out. ‘It is a magical sharing. No magic, no Comhroinn.’
Pete shook his head, amazed at how consistent this kid was with his delusion. He could see even Annad had started to tap his pen on the table with frustration.
That made him smile. Pete hadn’t been able to shake this kid’s story for days now. It was something of a relief to discover he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t crack it.
The downside, of course, was that they were no closer to finding Darragh’s accomplice, Sorcha, or discovering what had happened to Hayley Boyle.
CHAPTER 34
‘Hate to be the bearer of bad news, mistress,’ Toyoda announced, peeking outside through a small crack in the door. ‘But it be debatable how much longer ye hosts be willing to let ye stay in here before they be storming the place. The glamouring be worn off and the Daimyo be pacing about out there like a caged cat. He seems mighty peeved ’bout something.’
Trása threw her hands up and turned to Ren. The candlelight shadowed her face, but there was no need to guess what she was thinking. ‘We could be gone already if my mate, Rónán here, would simply wane himself to safety.’
‘I told you, I can’t leave,’ Ren reminded her, wishing he could do what she suggested. Now he knew what it was called, he knew exactly what to do and was rather looking forward to trying it again. Except for one small problem. ‘Aoi took an oath to guarantee I wouldn’t try to escape. She’ll have to kill herself if I leave.’
‘So?’
Ren stared at Trása, finding it hard to believe she meant to sound so callous. With the benefit of his brother’s memories, he knew her much better now. Trása wasn’t nearly as heartless and tough, he realised, as she liked to pretend.
He shook his head and folded his arms across his body. ‘I’m not going, Trása, so you might as well just get over it and move on to telling me your grand idea for saving me from certain death on Lughnasadh.’
‘That is the plan,’ she told him in exasperation. ‘We get you out of here and take you to Tír Na nÓg. Or at least this reality’s version of it. I’ve been there already. The place is so steeped in magic it all but drips from the trees. The magic there should protect you from the magic of the other realm.’
‘Should?’
‘We’ll know after Lughnasadh,’ she said with a shrug. ‘The alternative is to wait here and find out the hard way that I’m wrong.’
The idea of magic from one realm protecting him from the magic of another had some merit, Ren thought. But it still didn’t solve the main problem. ‘What about Darragh?’
‘He be trapped in a realm without magic, the Beansídhe tells me,’ Toyoda said, still looking out into the compound at Namito. Then he glanced over his shoulder at them. ‘Chances be good the transfer’ll not reach him anyways.’
He looked at Trása and her little ninja-Leipreachán companion. They seemed an unlikely pair to be taking advice from. ‘But you don’t know that for certain?’
‘Not for certain,’ Trása conceded.
‘Then it’s just what I said earlier. We’re screwed.’
‘We don’t know that,’ Trása said. ‘And if there is any chance taking you to Tír Na nÓg will mean you and Darragh will survive Lughnasadh then we need to try it. Unless you like the idea of being dead?’
‘Not especially, but we’re still back where we started and the problem with Aoi,’ he said, sinking down onto the futon with a sigh. ‘How did you even know I needed rescuing?’
‘Toyoda told me about the Konketsu and how much the Ikushima wanted a magician of their own, and then I remembered the look on Aoi’s face when I was here before.’ She smiled at him briefly. ‘It wasn’t hard to figure out why they hadn’t tried to kill you like the Tanabe did. That girl had designs on you then, Rónán. I was pretty sure you’d need some help fighting her off.’ She cocked her head sideways a little. ‘Of course, if you’d rather I didn’t help …’
‘No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did. And you’re right about them wanting a kid from the Youkai. Except I’m not Youkai, so why pick on me?’
Trása sat down on the futon beside him, shaking her head. ‘Trouble is, Rónán, you almost have to be one of us. There’s no way you could wane if you weren’t. Can Darragh do it too?’
He nodded. ‘Could and did,’ he told her. ‘That’s how he was sneaking out of Sí an Bhrú to meet up with me.’ Ren closed his eyes for a moment to better access the memory. ‘Some chick called Brydie was covering for him.’
Trása scowled at him. ‘Who is Brydie?’
‘I don’t know … his girlfriend?’ Ren caught the look on Trása’s face at that suggestion and quickly changed his tune. She was likely to lose it completely if she learned just how close Brydie and Darragh had been. ‘She’s someone Álmhath introduced him to, maybe?’ The memories were getting harder to separate from his own. It wasn’t as clear-cut as just closing his eyes and letting the video replay in his head. There were emotions mixed up in there, and not just relating to the mysterious Brydie. Darragh’s feelings for Brydie, Álmhath, Marcroy Tarth, and even Colmán, all clouded the memory, making it hard to be certain about anything.
Trása seemed set to interrogate Ren some more about Brydie and what she was up to with his brother, but Toyoda saved him from her questions. ‘Ye need to be swapping reminiscences some other time, mistress,’ he suggested. ‘It be time to leave.’
Ren studied Trása for a moment and then rose to his feet. ‘Can you glamour Namito into releasing Aoi from her oath?’
‘Sure.’
‘How long will it last?’
Trása shrugged. ‘I don’t know … an hour if we’re lucky.’
‘And then she’ll have to kill herself?’
‘I suppose. If she means it.’
‘She means it, to be sure,’ Toyoda assured them, straightening his weapons belt that never seemed to sit right for long. ‘These people not be fooling about when it comes to their honour.’
‘What if I convince them to let me go?’
‘Sure,’ Trása said, looking up at him. ‘But they’re not going to. Don’t you remember the old lady suggesting you can still give them what they need without your limbs?’
‘That’s my point,’ Ren said, a plan forming in his mind as he spoke. ‘You said you were going to make them an offer, so let’s do that, yeah? I have something they need. That’s the first law of negotiation, by the way. Go into the discussion armed with something your opponent wants, and know how badly they want it.’
She frowned. ‘Is that something
you picked up from Darragh’s memories, too?’
Ren shook his head. ‘Actually, that one comes courtesy of one Jon van Heusen. He’s my mother’s manager. You remember him, don’t you? Thanks to you, I got arrested for stealing his Ferrari.’
‘It was your idea to take the Ferrari,’ Trása reminded him. ‘I just said we’d get to the warehouse quicker if we took the shiny red car.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Ren said, and then he turned to the Leipreachán. ‘Open the door, Toyoda, and let’s go make the Ikushima an offer they can’t refuse.’
With the glamour worn off, Namito seemed to be having a what-was-I-thinking? moment. He had started pacing across the raked path as Ren stepped onto the veranda. The night was much colder now, the temperature having dropped considerably while they were inside making their plans. Although he was sure he was imagining it, somewhere Ren thought he could hear the slow, rhythmic pounding of drums. Or rather he felt them, as if their pitch was so low he could only feel it through his bones.
Ren shook off the unsettling feeling and concentrated on the problem at hand. He wasn’t sure if Trása was right about being safe from the power transfer happening on Lughnasadh in Darragh’s reality if he was tucked away in this reality’s version of Tír Na nÓg, but other than getting the hell out of this insane reality and trying to stop it happening at all, he didn’t have any better ideas.
It was as good a Plan B as any other, but not if it was going to cost someone their life. Ren could deal with his own life being threatened, but he was not prepared to be responsible for Aoi dying, even if he thought she was crazy for taking such an oath, and her family equally crazy for holding her to it.
Aoi stood with her brother. Masuyo was still standing on the veranda of the main house, looking more angry than worried. The rest of the Ikushima workers had scattered or been sent away, leaving the Daimyo and his family alone in the compound. Ren was relieved that Kazusa was nowhere in sight. That she had been offered to him as a concubine was still enough to make Ren’s stomach churn.
‘Namito,’ he said, his breath frosting in the chilly air, as he walked from the hut with Trása.
‘Renkavana.’
He glanced at Trása for a moment before he spoke. ‘My mate … is demanding that I leave with her and return to the homeland of the Youkai,’ he said. He didn’t know the name of Tír Na nÓg in this reality. Homeland would have to do. ‘I have obligations there that I am honour-bound to fulfil.’
‘My sister is ready to commit jigai when you leave,’ Namito informed him stiffly. Aoi dropped her head beside her brother, refusing to meet Ren’s eye. ‘It is for you to judge if your mate’s wishes are worth an innocent life.’
You people really are certifiably insane, he thought, resisting the impulse to run down the steps to Namito, grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense back into him. If Ren had learned nothing else travelling the world with Kiva, moving from one exotic movie location to another, he had learned that visitors never understood the locals as much as they liked to think. No matter how much one thought one’s own customs better, people from other cultures usually didn’t appreciate you breezing into town for a few days, weeks or months and trying to change theirs.
‘I do not wish your sister harm, Namito,’ Ren said. ‘And I do not wish to belittle the value of your sister’s oath, but if I stay here, I will die.’
‘Then you will die with honour,’ Namito assured him solemnly.
Oh, well … in that case …
Masuyo had been listening to their exchange from her veranda, but when she heard Ren’s life might be in danger, she clearly thought he was making it up to gain her grandson’s sympathy. With a cry of disgust, she hurried down off the veranda and shuffled across the sand toward her grandson, her tiny steps limited by her wooden geta and the tightness of her kimono. She stopped beside Namito, who was standing between the torches lighting the path, puffing a little from the exertion. Masuyo glared up at Ren. By the light of the torches she looked haggard and furious. ‘Don’t listen to him, Namito. He is lying to save his dishonourable, Youkai skin.’
‘Renkavana cannot give you what you want if he is dead, Daimyo.’
Ren glanced at Trása, who had stepped up beside him, hands on her hips, wrapped in the blanket off his futon. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Doesn’t take a genius to work out where you’re going with this.’
She turned to address Namito, looking slightly ridiculous wrapped in the blanket, but no less fearsome than when she had been disguised as an eagle. ‘On Higan No Chu-Nichi, the autumn equinox, a ceremony will take place in the realm from which we come that will destroy Renkavana, unless he is protected by the magic of his own kind.’
‘Let the Youkai die,’ Masuyo suggested to her grandson. She pointed at Trása. ‘Take the female. She looks healthy enough. You can impregnate her yourself.’
‘I’d like to see you try,’ Trása muttered in her own tongue so that only Ren could hear her.
He bit back a smile. Namito, to his credit, didn’t seem too keen on his grandmother’s suggestion. ‘Obaasan … please …’
‘You might be able to kill the Youkai in this realm,’ Trása continued, speaking to Namito rather than his grandmother. He was, after all, the Daimyo here. He was the only one who could absolve Aoi from her oath. ‘But you can’t keep us prisoner. The only reason you’ve kept Renkavana this long is because he’s too honourable to allow Lady Ouchie there …’
‘Ow-ee,’ Ren corrected.
‘… to run herself through if he leaves,’ Trása finished as if Ren hadn’t spoken.
‘What are you suggesting, Renkavana?’ Namito asked, stepping forward a little, apparently to distance himself from his grandmother. Ren thought it interesting that he didn’t want a Youkai child if he had to rape Trása to get one, but he seemed quite comfortable asking Ren to take his twelve-year-old sister to his bed to achieve the same aim.
Honour was something one could find ways around in this realm, it seemed. He stopped for a moment, still hearing the distant beat of drums, wondering if he was the only one who could hear them. Ren glanced around, but everyone seemed engrossed in the discussion and hadn’t noticed them yet.
‘Let Renkavana go,’ Trása said, ‘and I promise he’ll return after Higan No Chu-Nichi.’
‘Assuming I’m still alive.’
Namito seemed to be wavering. ‘What guarantee do I have that you will keep your word, Youkai?’
Ren took a step down from the veranda to the sand and stepped up to meet Namito, face to face. ‘Because I’ve proved I can be trusted.’ He stepped even closer and lowered his voice so that Masuyo couldn’t hear what he was saying. ‘You told me Aoi had sworn to commit jigai and I stayed. I could have zapped myself out of here anytime I felt like it, and I didn’t.’ That wasn’t strictly true then, but it was true now, so technically, it wasn’t a lie. ‘If that doesn’t convince you my word is any good, I just refused to sleep with your little sister. The old lady might have thought that was a grand idea for the greater good of the clan, but you didn’t like it any more than I did. That should tell you everything you need to know about me.’
‘If you do not come back,’ Namito said in an equally low voice, ‘Aoi will have to fulfil her oath.’
‘If I don’t come back, it’ll be because I’m dead,’ Ren assured him, ‘so you’ll just have to take the chance both of us are going to see the sunrise after Lughnasadh, and let me go.’ He stopped and cocked his head. He hadn’t imagined it — there were definitely drums. ‘Am I the only one who can hear that?’
Namito listened to the drums a moment, looking puzzled, and called to one of the guards patrolling the walls.
‘What’s the matter?’ Masuyo asked. The drums were still pitched so low Ren could barely make them out. He guessed the old lady wouldn’t be able to hear them at all. He glanced at Trása, but she seemed just as unsure. He thought she could hear the drums now. Aoi had turned toward the wall, awaiting s
ome indication of direction.
‘The Tanabe didn’t have drums the last time they attacked,’ Ren said, wondering if that’s what was happening.
Namito shook his head, bewildered. ‘That’s not the Tanabe,’ he said, and then he turned to his grandmother. ‘Go inside. Take Aoi with you. And find Kazusa.’
‘You think we’re under attack?’
‘Just do as I command, Obaasan,’ Namito snapped, and then he turned for the wall.
Before Ren could follow, Trása was at his side. ‘Come on, now’s our chance. Let’s get out of here.’
‘Can you hear the drums?’
‘Yes, I can hear them,’ she said. ‘And the tune they’re playing is called Trouble. We have to go, Rónán.’
‘I can’t. Namito hasn’t released Aoi from her oath.’
‘Fine, we’ll die here then,’ she said, throwing her hands up. ‘That’s a much better idea.’
‘What happened to the Leipreachán?’
‘He bolted the moment he heard those drums.’
‘Why did he zap out of here in such a hurry?’
‘Because he’s the only one of us with any common sense,’ she said. ‘And it’s a sad day in any realm when the only creatures with any common sense are the Leipreachán.’
The drums grew louder. There was a relentless stridency in the sound that set the hair on the back of Ren’s neck standing on end. Slowly, as the sound became louder, others turned toward the walls, wondering what it was. People emerged from their huts. Even Masuyo seemed to have a change of heart and hurried Aoi away toward the main house. Ren looked around for Namito and saw him scaling the ladder to the walkway on top of the wall.
The drums were loud enough now that everyone could hear them.
For the first time, Ren got a glimpse of the Sight. He knew Darragh was gifted with prescience, but he’d never consciously experienced it himself before. He felt it now, however, and what he saw made his blood run cold.
‘Trása?’
The Dark Divide Page 26
