Shadow of the Fox

by Julie Kagawa

  “No.”

  “Then, why...?”

  “Yumeko.” His voice wasn’t harsh or angry or threatening, but the bleakness in it caused a shiver to creep up my spine. He turned so that he faced me on his knees, purple eyes intense.

  After placing his sword on his left side, he fisted both hands on his thighs and bowed his head, as I knelt there in silent amazement.

  “Forgive me.” His voice was solemn, completely serious, as if he were addressing a daimyo, not a lowly peasant girl. “You saved my life, but I cannot answer your questions. I have been sworn to secrecy by my clan, and they would punish us both if I disobeyed their orders. Please choose another way that I might repay my debt.”

  “Tatsumi-san...” Guilt flickered; I certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “I...you don’t owe me anything,” I said, though he remained motionless with his gaze on the ground. “I was trying to save us both, after all.”

  “The witch would have killed me.” Tatsumi’s voice was flat; he still hadn’t moved or raised his head. “The code of the Shadow Clan demands compensation. A life for a life. I’m in your debt until I can repay you.”

  I nodded. “All right,” I said in a quiet voice, as the seriousness of the declaration dawned on me. Master Isao had taught me about the ways of the samurai, how their code was everything to them, their entire way of life. To casually dismiss or ignore a debt was a huge insult to their honor, an unforgivable crime that could end either in the death of the offender, or with the disgraced warrior taking his own life. “Then I’ll hold you to that promise, Tatsumi,” I said, “until you can save me in return.”

  He lowered his head in a silent bow, and we continued through the gully without speaking.

  * * *

  Later that evening, after we’d finally gotten out of the ravine, it began to rain. I grimaced, setting my jaw as sheets of water soaked us through the branches, drenching my hair and seeping past my clothes. Tatsumi walked on, seemingly uncaring of the cold and wet. I found myself wishing for my conical hat and mino, a rain cloak made of tightly woven straw, which I’d had to leave behind at the temple.

  The rain continued, sometimes slowing to a cold drizzle but never letting up completely. As the light began to fade, we took shelter beneath an old, arched stone bridge. A pair of oak trees grew close to the bridge, and several gnarled roots snaked along the ground beneath the arch. Perched on a root, I watched as Tatsumi dug a hole, filled it with branches and somehow lit a small fire. It crackled cheerfully and drove away some of the chill, and I groaned as the warmth hit my skin and began thawing my clammy fingers.

  “Here,” Tatsumi said quietly, and dropped a single rice ball into my hands. Murmuring my thanks, I watched him walk to the other side of the campfire and sit down to stare into the flames.

  There was a shimmer in the darkness, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Looking up, I saw a tiny, pale green figure, no larger than my thumb, watching me from atop a root a few feet away. It wore a round mushroom cap on its head, and its eyes were like black pits under the brim.

  Tatsumi saw what I was looking at, and his hand went to his sword. “Tatsumi, no,” I warned, holding out a hand. “It’s a kodama, a tree kami. It won’t hurt us.” He relaxed, dropping his hand from the hilt, and I offered the kodama a smile.

  “Hello,” I greeted softly, as the tiny kami tilted its head, watching me. “Please excuse us, we’re just passing through. We’re not disturbing your tree, I hope?”

  The kodama didn’t blink. It watched me a moment more, then padded forward and hopped onto a stone, staring at me with pupilless black eyes. A faint sound rose into the air, like the rustle of leaves stirred by the wind. I nodded.

  “I understand. We will stay to the path, and we’ll be careful not to tread on any new plants or trees. You have my promise.”

  “You can speak to the kami.” Tatsumi’s tone didn’t question, though it sounded faintly surprised. “How?”

  “The monks taught me,” I replied. Not the whole truth of course; I’d been able to see the spirit world—kami, yokai, yurei and the rest of the unnatural—for as long I could remember. One of the perks—or curses—of being half kitsune. Though the monks did teach me the differences between the myriad spirits in Iwagoto. There were the nine greater Kami, the named deities who were worshipped throughout Iwagoto: Jinkei, God of Mercy, Doroshin, God of Roads, and so on. The lesser kami were minor gods, spirits of nature and the elements; they existed everywhere, in the earth, the sky and all places in between. No one knew how many kami existed in the world; when people spoke of them as a whole, it was common to say “the eight million gods,” and leave it at that.

  But besides the kami, many other strange, magical creatures roamed the land. Yokai were creatures of the supernatural; sometimes called monsters or bakemono, they could change their forms or had some amount of magic power, tanuki, kamaitachi and, of course, kitsune being prime examples. Yurei described the many restless ghosts that wandered the mortal realm, zashiki warashi, onryo, ubume and more. There were even some monstrous plants that preyed on humans and a handful of creatures that didn’t fit into any category, so the list of gods, ghosts and monsters was endless. But, even though some yokai were dangerous and some yurei had malicious intent, all were residents of Ningen-kai, the mortal realm, and were to be respected.

  Unlike the demons—the amanjaku, and terrible oni like Yaburama. They hailed from Jigoku, the realm of evil and corruption, and did not belong in the mortal world at all.

  “Master Isao and the others revered the kami,” I went on. “They strove to exist in harmony with all forms of life. The most spiritual among them could see and even speak to the kami on occasion. I sort of had the talent for it, I suppose.”

  “Is that why the kamaitachi listened to you?”

  “Well...not really. I listened to them.”

  The kodama was joined by a friend. Then three more appeared between tree roots, and another materialized near the edge of the fire. I looked up to see dozens of the tiny kami perched on rocks and branches, watching us through the rain. A sound rose into the air, like hundreds of dry leaves fluttering at the same time.

  Tatsumi, observing the growing number of kodama around us, didn’t move, but his posture remained tense. I could sense he was trying very hard not to go for his sword. “What do they want?” he asked.

  “Um...” I closed my eyes briefly, trying to focus on just one voice. Kodama were difficult to understand at the best of times. “Slow down,” I said, holding up a hand. “Please, one at a time. I can’t hear if everyone talks all at once—it’s like trying to pick a drop out of a waterfall.”

  The sound of whispering branches stopped. The kodama on the rock stepped forward, chattering in a soft voice that sounded like a leaf skipping around the ground.

  “They want to know if you are the bearer of Kamigoroshi,” I said. “And, if you were the one who slew Kiba-sama today.”

  Tatsumi blinked, then glanced at the now dozens of kodama, watching us from the trees.

  “I had no choice.” His voice was calm, neither boastful nor repentant. “I would have avoided that fight if I could. But Kiba-sama would have killed us both.”

  The kodama broke into chatter again, like thousands of leaves being rustled by the wind. Which was strange, as there was no wind. Finally, the noise died down, and a trio of kodama approached the fire. The kami in the center carried a single leaf like a flag, the stem held upright, the edges bobbing as it walked. Though their faces were tiny and indistinct, I felt this was a very solemn affair. The tree spirits marched up to Tatsumi and bowed, and then the kodama in the center stepped forward, raising the leaf over its head, toward the demonslayer.

  “What is this?” he asked warily.

  “A gift,” I said in amazement, listening as the kodama chatter went on. “It seems that, long ago, Kiba-sama lost himself to his hunger a
nd greed,” I translated, as their voices flowed over me, a faint tickle in my ears. “And it corrupted him until he was no longer a bear, but something unnatural and tainted. Even while he slept, the miasma of dread he produced could be felt by all living things. The birds never sang in Kiba-sama’s wood, the animals were constantly afraid and in hiding, and the humans rarely ventured into the forest. Fear was suffocating the land, but now that you’ve put him to rest, it can flourish again.

  “That leaf signifies that you are a friend of the forest,” I continued, as Tatsumi reached down, carefully took the leaf by the stem and held it up to his face. It glowed faintly in the darkness, pulsing with a soft green light. “If you are ever in need of the kamis’ help, whisper your request out loud and release it into the wind. It will carry your message to any nearby kodama, who will aid you in whatever way they can.”

  His eyes darkened, and he shook his head. “I can’t accept this,” he murmured, lowering his arm. The kodama voices rustled overhead, echoing my own question.

  “Why?”

  “I kill demons. It’s what I do. I didn’t slay the bear out of mercy, or kindness, or anything but survival. If Kiba-sama hadn’t attacked us, I would have been content to leave him there.”

  “Nonetheless,” I said after a moment of listening to the voices of the kodama. “They want you to have it. You did the forest a service today, and the kami always repay their debts.” When he still hesitated, I added, even though the kodama didn’t say it, “You really shouldn’t refuse a gift from the kami, Tatsumi-san. They might always repay a debt, but they never forget an insult.”

  He nodded gravely; that at least made sense to him. “Arigatou gozimasu,” he told the nearest kodama, lowering his head in a bow. “I’m not worthy of such a gift, but I will accept it.”

  The tiny kami returned the bow, straightened and then floated away, like a leaf picked up and carried by the wind. The rest of the kodama vanished, fading into trees, until it was just me and Tatsumi once more.

  He stared at the glowing leaf, watching it flicker in the darkness, before it vanished into the pouch beneath his obi. But his brows were drawn into a slight frown, and I cocked my head at him. “Is something wrong, Tatsumi-san?”

  He shook his head. “No. But...the leaf should have gone to you,” he said, finally meeting my gaze. “You were the one who spoke to the kamaitachi. You figured out how to free them so they would turn on the witch. If you hadn’t done that, we would’ve both died.”

  “The reward wasn’t for slaying the witch,” I returned gently. “It was for putting Kiba-sama out of his misery and returning the forest to its natural state. The kodama don’t care about individual human lives as much as they want the forest to be healthy. You were the one who killed the demon, thus their favor goes to you.”

  Tatsumi frowned. “I’ve killed dozens of demons and yokai,” he murmured. “Perhaps a few kami, as well. Until today...I didn’t know that yokai could be talked to or reasoned with.”

  “Not all yokai are evil,” I said quietly, surprised to feel a tiny flicker of hurt. “They’re part of the natural order, just like the kami. Sometimes, you don’t know what they want until you talk to them.”

  He didn’t say anything to that for several heartbeats, staring into the fire as if lost in thought. I tossed a few twigs into the flames and watched the fire consume them, and wondered what would’ve happened had the wind witch exposed me. Would Tatsumi be sitting here with me now? Would the fact that I’d saved his life have any impact on the revelation that I was kitsune? Or would he take his terrible glowing sword and try to cut off my head?

  I’ve killed dozens of demons and yokai, he’d just told me. Did that mean he had killed kitsune, too? According to the monks, my full-blooded kin were tricksters and opportunists, but there were a few cases in which they were truly dangerous. Had Tatsumi’s clan ever sent him to kill a fox, and if they had, did he think all kitsune were wild, treacherous creatures that should be put down?

  “There is something you should know about me,” Tatsumi said, startling me from my thoughts. I looked up to find him still brooding into the flames, his expression thoughtful. “Something that you should decide for yourself, before we go any farther.”

  I straightened, surprised that he was volunteering information. In all our travels, Tatsumi had shied away from any questions about himself, his family, or his clan. After his tortured confession earlier today, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t press him further, that his secrets were his own. After all, I had my fair share of secrets, too.

  “You can tell me,” I said. “It won’t scare me off, I promise. Well, unless you’re really a yurei who has been masquerading as a human all this time. Oh, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t know you were a ghost, would you?”

  He continued to watch the fire. I sensed he was still struggling with himself, debating whether or not to say anything, before he bowed his head with a sigh.

  “There is...a rather large price on my head,” Tatsumi admitted at last. “Not from the magistrates or clans or any human organization. From the demons, and yokai. From the spirit world. They want me dead. Or, technically, they want the bearer of Kamigoroshi dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Kamigoroshi was created to kill demons,” Tatsumi answered. “That’s the entire purpose of its existence. And not just demons—it also works on yokai, spirits, even kami. Creatures that can’t be slain with a normal blade.”

  “Oh,” I said. I’d known Kamigoroshi wasn’t a normal sword, but I hadn’t known the entire demon and spirit world was aware of it and its bearer. “So, you’re saying that if a ghost came right through the wall and tried to grab you, you could kill it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about fireball yokai? They have no bodies. Can Kamigoroshi kill them, too?”

  “I’ve killed several.”

  “Oni?”

  “Yes, Yumeko.” Tatsumi nodded. “Even an oni, if it doesn’t kill me first. But that’s not the point I wanted to make. Within the blade...is the trapped spirit of a demon. Its name is Hakaimono, and it is old, powerful and very angry. Whoever wields Kamigoroshi is constantly in danger of having their soul possessed.”

  I drew in a slow breath, trying to process what he’d told me. He carried a demon in his blade; that was why just looking at the sword could make my skin crawl. “What happens if your soul is possessed?” I asked in a small voice. Tatsumi gave me a cold stare.

  “What do you think?”

  Now it was I who gazed into the fire, watching it snap and curl. For a moment, I found it sadly ironic; this was the most I’d ever heard him talk, and it was about something I could really do without hearing. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “You saved my life,” Tatsumi said. “I want you to understand what staying with me really means.” He held the sheathed blade up to the light. “Kamigoroshi is a cursed sword, Yumeko. Its bearer is also cursed. Demons and yokai will constantly seek me out to destroy me, which means they’ll try to kill you, too. And I... I am not someone you should ever trust. In fact, it would be better if I’d never made that promise.”

  I looked up quickly. “What are you trying to say, Tatsumi?”

  He paused. My heart thumped in my chest, and my stomach knotted as I watched him. The firelight danced in his eyes and flickered over his face, and his expression looked strangely torn. “Being around me will always be dangerous,” he finally said. “I will do my best to protect you, as I promised, but enemies of all sorts will come after us. Some might be very powerful. All will try to kill me. And there is the constant danger of Hakaimono. I want you to be fully prepared for what that means.”

  “Tatsumi-san.” I hesitated, knowing I had to choose my words carefully. To not give him any indication that I had the Dragon’s prayer. The thing the demons, witches and yokai were really after. “I have to find Master Jiro,�
� I told him. “I must reach the Steel Feather temple, to let them know what happened to Master Isao and the others. I have a duty of my own, but more than that...it was Master Isao’s last request. I promised him I would find the temple and warn them all. I just hope the demons don’t find the Steel Feather temple before me.”

  His shoulders slumped; the concept of duty was all too familiar for a warrior. And Tatsumi, as cold and hardened and dangerous as he was, didn’t seem the type to abandon a vow. “I made a promise, too,” I said. “I’m going to the temple, Tatsumi-san, with or without you. You’re welcome to follow along. I would welcome the company, and I’m not afraid. But you don’t have to be so gloomy about it.”

  He blinked and looked up at me. “Gloomy?”

  Apparently, no one had accused him of being gloomy before, either. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile,” I told him. “Master Isao would say you look like a monkey who accidentally dropped its last persimmon into a pond.” That statement brought out a bemused frown, and I smiled. “I trust you, Tatsumi. I think you’re too strong to let a demon possess you. And if you’re worried about monsters or yokai coming after us, don’t be. I’m not completely helpless. I certainly surprised the wind witch today.”

  “You did.” The ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Did your Master Isao often compare people to monkeys?”

  “Not usually. Mostly it was just me.”

  He actually chuckled, and it sent a flutter through my insides. Though he sobered almost immediately. “All right,” he said. “Then, we continue together. For as long as I can protect you. Until I’ve paid my debt.”

  The kodama watched over us all night.

  14

  Beware of Stray Dogs

  “Tatsumi, listen,” Yumeko said the next morning. “You can hear the birds again.”

  I glanced at her. She was walking beside me down the trail with her head tilted upward, gazing into the branches. Overhead, the sun slanted through the leaves, mottling the forest floor, and several small, feathered creatures flitted back and forth above us, chirping. I hadn’t noticed until she pointed it out, but the woods did seem a little brighter today, less oppressive. I guess my slaying Kiba-sama had helped the forest, just as the kodama had said.