by Travis Bughi
“See him,” Lei whispered in a not-so-quiet voice. “Look at that face—calm, collected, focused, like a hibernating kraken. If you ever saw his brother, it was worse. I’ve met trees who smiled more often than Okamoto. Anyway, though, underneath it all, there’s a fury and passion like you wouldn’t believe. It’ll come out in war—you’ll see—on the battlefield when there’s nothing but death all around. It’s in every samurai, this obsession with death, and this one in particular is no different.”
Lei shook a finger at Takeo, like he would at a statue that could neither see nor hear them.
“Then again,” the ninja said with a shrug at Emily, “perhaps you’ve already seen it. I saw you two fighting in that clearing. You’ve got some fire, too, don’t you? Perhaps you’re more the pair than I thought. Are amazons like samurai?”
“Amazons tend to be very passionate,” Emily replied, “both on and off the battlefield. By all accounts, I would probably be considered mild for an amazon, though I did know a vampire who said I had spirit.”
“Hm? A vampire said that to you? What happened then?” Lei cocked an eyebrow.
“I killed him,” she said.
The ninja balked a moment and then broke into laughter and clapped his hands together. When Emily didn’t laugh, Lei glanced to Takeo, and when Takeo didn’t laugh either, Lei cleared his throat.
“That’s a joke, right? Vampires are immortal. You can’t kill them.”
“Nothing is immortal,” Emily said, “just harder to kill. A pirate told me that once.”
“Is he dead, too?”
“He is, but I didn’t kill him.”
“Good to hear people can know you and survive.”
“You’re one to talk.” Emily gave Lei a nudge with her elbow. “You’re a ninja.”
Takeo raised a finger, gaining their attention, and said, “He’s never killed an immortal, though, and neither have I for that matter. I’m sorry to say, Lei, but you’ve got it all wrong. You think I’m the one that’s desperate to fight, but in truth, I’m just a small part of a bigger picture you can’t see. That girl there, she’s the one you should worry about.”
Lei gave Emily a narrow-eyed stare and looked her up and down. She met it coldly, though purely in jest, and he huffed.
“Eh,” he said. “I’ve been wrong before.”
* * *
There was no need for Emily to pack. She had only her knife, her bow, her arrows, her clothes, and the two letters that needed to be delivered to the other side of the world. Knowing this, she’d thought to take a nap in the tent, especially since it was enticingly warm from the sunlight that beamed down on it. Just as she closed her eyes, though, she felt a touch to her shoulder and found Takeo asking her to come away with him again.
He led her from the camp, up over the hill to their not-so-secret place of meeting. Emily found herself searching the trees and bushes all around her, trying to see the ninjas she imagined were always watching, but she never saw anything. It was enough to make her think that perhaps they weren’t being watched at all, but a prickling feeling on the back of her neck said otherwise. She’d felt it before, that feeling of being watched, and it would not be shaken from her. With a sudden thought, she understood that she had much more to learn about stealth and roguery. These ninjas did more than just move silently; they disappeared at a moment’s notice. Emily did not feel so confident in her ability to hide, and she wondered if perhaps Lei had only taught her to move silently because that was the easy part of being a ninja.
Maybe one day she’d learn to hide better. Either that, or perhaps it wasn’t as hard as it looked.
Emily chuckled to herself and drew Takeo’s attention.
“What is it?” he asked.
He brought her to the old rock and tree they’d visited before and leaned up against the tree Emily had spitefully kicked. She took a seat on the rock.
“Just thinking about how we’re being watched,” Emily said, “yet I can never see who’s watching us.”
Takeo had nothing to say to that. He put a foot against the tree, then took it off; folded his arms, then dropped them; looked left and right, then down. Emily’s distraction with the outside world evaporated.
“You’re nervous,” Emily spoke her mind aloud. “What are you nervous about?”
Her folded arms loosened, and, on instinct, she slid her hand back until it touched the handle of her knife. A heightened sense came to her ears and eyes, and she began to look around them with renewed intensity. Angrily, she remembered her bow in the tent.
“No, it’s not that,” Takeo said. “We’re safe.”
He sighed and slid down the tree until he sat on his heels. His forearms rested on his knees, and Emily noticed he hadn’t brought his katana. No immediate danger, she realized and relaxed. Her fingers came off her knife, but she touched it once more for comfort and then folded her arms again.
“You scared me there for a moment,” she said. “Alright, what is it? I’m assuming this is about Lord Jiro?”
“Not quite.” Takeo sighed again and looked up. “Though you could say that it was brought on by that.”
Emily waited for him to continue, but Takeo stayed silent as he searched the trees above. Just as she was about to say something, he finally spoke.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve already thought about it, but I feel like I have to come clean now before we go to war. I, we, might very well die at any moment once we leave this camp, and it will haunt me for eternity if I don’t say anything.”
Emily’s throat went dry, and her previous annoyance at Takeo’s delays turned to apprehension. With parted lips, her shallow breathing deepened. She started to stutter out some words, but Takeo held up a hand, and she stopped.
“Please,” he begged, “this is hard enough as it is.”
He breathed yet another sigh, this one broken as if breathing had become a chore. Emily’s own breath caught in her throat.
“I was there,” he said. “I was there when . . . when they . . . we . . . killed the angels.”
Emily’s heart stopped, and her body lost its strength. She was a moment from falling, and only some phantom force kept her upright. Takeo’s eyes, so dark before, now had a touch of red.
“I didn’t know what they were,” he said. “I mean, I knew they were angels, but I didn’t know what an angel was. I thought it was war, like any war I’ve ever—I’ve always fought.”
He paused to suck in a deep breath, stuttering as he did so. Emily’s heart shattered.
“Count Drowin and the leprechaun planned it with help from the traitor knight,” Takeo went on, eyes hollow. “They had intended to do it on their own, but Katsu insisted I go to make sure the task was done. The vampire didn’t protest, and neither did I. It seemed nothing different to me, just another battle to win, another enemy to kill. Okamoto always told me the duty of a samurai is to obey, that our honor is tied to taking commands. I had done that all my life, and I was prepared to do that again. Secretly, Katsu told me that I was not just there to observe, but also to finish the task if the ogres and traitor knights failed. It was imperative the angels died so that the colossi could not be used to protect the city from his future invasion.
“So, armed with my brother’s sword, I went to make his dead spirit proud. I followed the ogres as they were let in by traitor knights and then up into the angels’ tower. Our weapons were coated with basilisk poison, our entrance was secret, and our retreat was planned. Everything seemed accounted for. I had no idea—not a single clue—as to what was coming. I’ll never know why they didn’t warn me, those knights, but I am both grateful and angered that they didn’t. You told me that I’m not like Okamoto, and I think the reason for it started in that throne room.
“When they threw open the doors and I saw the angels there, all four of them, it . . . it hit me. Their eyes were nothing but light, their beauty like nothing I ever saw, and that . . . that wave. It hit me so s
trongly, I can’t even describe. It was like a wave of force.”
“Their aura,” Emily whispered, finding her voice deep within.
“Yes, their aura. It touched my heart lightly at first, but then it clenched, and it felt like my chest was bursting. I was open to the world, exposed in a way that I had never been before. All my life, Okamoto had trained me to build a stone wall around my emotions so that I could be the perfect warrior. I fought, I killed, and the world was a cruel, dark place with no love to be found. That’s what he taught me, and that’s the lie I knew. You’d think it would have been harder to shake, this solid ground I had built my world upon, but one glance at the angels and everything I knew came tumbling down. I thought of all the lives I’d taken, all the beauty I’d ignored, and all the lies I was told in a way I never had before.
“And it hurt. It hurt me so badly. I felt guilt, sorrow, and even love. I looked at the angels, and they looked at me. I knew they could see the pain and the guilt in me. They saw the terrible life I’d had and the destruction I’d wrought. They saw the love I had for my brother, and the pain of want that I didn’t know I had. They saw all of it, I could tell—my darkest moments to my happiest thoughts, as few as those were. Worst yet, as I saw my own wretched soul through their eyes, I also saw that they forgave me. As horrible as my life had been, they forgave me in an instant. My chest burned like fire as I gazed upon them, and I collapsed to the ground trembling.
“The ogres and the traitor knights, though, felt nothing. Perhaps they did, but it didn’t stop them like it stopped me. They called out, ‘Drowin sends his regards!’ and charged, weapons drawn and gleaming in the light of the angels’ eyes. The angels didn’t even fight back. They appeared calm and completely relaxed, like a parent shaking their head at disgruntled children. The one with red hair, he stood up and walked towards them, arms held out as if to welcome them, and the ogre that charged first roared and slammed his blade into him.
“I didn’t know what to expect. I guess I assumed they’d die like any other being, with blood everywhere, but when that red-haired one burst into sunlight, I swear I died with him. The light washed over me, and it was like a needle was thrust into my heart. It was too much for me, and I yelled out.
“The next one, the blonde one, died just as quickly, though he took to the air and made a break for the back door. At the time, I thought it was foolish. There was no way he’d make it out alive that way, but now I understand what he was doing. Just as he distracted me, so did he also distract the others, and it gave time for his siblings to charge for the windows. One crossbow bolt took down the blonde one, and another took down the brown-haired sister. She told the last one to fly away just before she burst into light. He had black hair, I remember, and he flew out through the window and into the night before they could take him down.
“Just as I felt each one die, so did I also feel the last one leave. When his eyes turned from me, the sensation of them prying into my heart stopped, and the wall I’d spent so long building around my emotions came together again. I was on the floor, lying in a pool of sweat, breathing hard like I’d run for days. Tears were streaming from my eyes, and my hands were clenched so tight they’d gone bone white. The ogres and knights laughed at me.
“Katsu was furious. I failed him again, he said, letting that angel escape, but I never heard him. It took me days to recover from what one moment in the angels’ presence had done to me. That’s how I treated it, too, like an illness. I thought it was something they had done to me, like a disease that somehow the ogres and knights were immune to. Eventually, though, I began to realize that wasn’t it at all. They had removed the sickness from me, and it was a long time coming for me to find the cure to the blackness that plagued my soul.
“I wouldn’t discover this until I was in Savara, though, long after I’d fought against you. When I was sold into slavery, when Katsu betrayed me, I was finally forced to see the world beyond the lies I’d been taught and the chains I’d fervently borne. Seeing you there in that desert, chained as I had been, I saw my chance to make amends. No, amends isn’t the right word. I’ll never be able to remove the taint of my former existence, but I saw in you a chance to prevent further harm in the world. I knew then that I’d help free you and fight with you, but it was only later that I—”
Takeo’s words caught in his throat, bringing his long tale to a sudden end. Emily’s dry mouth hung open as she watched Takeo take in a few deep breaths. His eyes glistened, and he clenched his jaw while he dropped his head.
“I’m so sorry, Emily,” he said. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t understand.”
Emily’s entire body felt racked. Her arms ignored her commands, twitching when they wanted and hesitating when she told them to reach for Takeo. His head lay across his forearms as he stared at the ground, slowly shaking in regret of his past. Emily’s heart hung so heavily in her chest that it took a great effort to breathe. She leaned forward off the rock—touching her knees to the dirt so that she was only a hand’s width from Takeo—reached up a single hand, and placed it on the back of his neck.
“I forgive you,” she whispered.
She said it without thinking, but the moment the words left her lips, she knew they were true. The time for thinking of Takeo as an enemy had come and gone, and the time for thinking of him as a man she loved was too recent to banish. She hated his actions, of course she did, but this was something she’d already come to terms with back in Savara.
Ephron, the lone surviving angel, had told her there was a samurai among the group that had killed his siblings. Emily had always known Takeo could have been a part of that group—though she’d never mentioned it—and the fact that he clearly regretted his involvement eviscerated any hostility she could have summoned. Before her, she saw only a dutiful samurai, long in need of taking matters into his own hands. This outpouring of emotion was like nothing she’d seen from him before—yet she had secretly dreamed to. Here he was, distraught, begging her forgiveness for a wrong he had been taught was a right.
Yes, she forgave him. How could she not? She loved him.
I do, she thought. Did she even know what love was? Her time with Gavin had tossed her entire concept of love into question. Was it love she felt for Takeo, or was it a lust like she’d had for Gavin, only deeper? I don’t know, she admitted, and that’s okay. I will love him until proven otherwise.
“I forgive you,” she repeated and leaned in close enough to catch the scent of his hair. “Now, finish what you were going to say.”
He lifted his head, a few of his dark strands brushing against her nose. Her own hair, charged, clutched at his as his eyes met hers, and she didn’t pull back. She knew what he was about to say. She could see it in his eyes, those dark eyes so full of life and desire. All the world around her dissolved as she peered into them, and it was wonderful.
Say it, she prayed.
“It was only later that I fell for you,” he whispered.
She leaned forward as she pulled him in until their lips touched, and Emily’s heart beat against her chest. His thin lips were encompassed by hers, and she felt his smooth chin brush against her own. His folded arms came apart, and she fell into them, pressing them both against the tree while their arms snaked around each other’s head and body. Their lips broke apart for a brief moment while they gasped for air, but Emily couldn’t stay away for long and leaned in to kiss him tenderly again.
“Wait,” he whispered. “We’re being watched.”
“I don’t care,” she replied. “Let them watch.”
They kissed, her lips parting his as their bodies pressed against the tree.
Chapter 20
Emily could hardly remember a time she was so happy, locked in Takeo’s arms in that forest. She ran her fingers through his hair over and over like she had longed to do and kissed those thin lips of his again and again. He pressed his body tightly to hers, like he had when he’d carried her across the water,
and her hands ran along his shoulders, down his chest, and across his back. Carefully, she ran her thumb over the ridges of his stomach, feeling his abs as they rose and fell while they kissed.
His fingers ran through her hair, too, and he held her close with strong arms that seemed to shut out all the harm in the world. As she pushed him against the tree, his hand touched her exposed thigh just below her leather skirt, and her heart raced. She breathed fast, in and out through her nose, for she dared not pull her lips from his. Her skin was hot to the touch, and every gasp of air seemed like an annoyance rather than a necessity.
When he pulled away, they breathed with their lips lingering a moment away from contact.
“I never thought you’d feel the same,” he said through deep breaths.
“I’ve wanted you since the ship,” she said, her lips brushing against his, begging for another kiss. “I just didn’t know it until I cut your hair.”
They kissed again, and Takeo laughed.
“My hair?” he said. “You like it shorter?”
“I love it shorter,” she confessed.
“I love yours longer,” he said.
She giggled and leaned into him again. “I grew it out for you. I wanted to look pretty for you. I didn’t even know it really, but I wanted you to notice me.”
“Notice you? How could I not? You were always beautiful, and so strong,” he said. “Even when we fought, I could not deny that you were amazing. With nothing but a knife, I had to back you into a wall before I could defeat you. You are the most wonderful girl—the most wonderful person—I’ve ever met. I never thought you’d want me back, though. I always wished, but—”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied.
He did, and their lips parted and their tongues met. Emily’s heart beat like a drum, and through Takeo’s kimono, she could feel his heartbeat, too. As he held her close, she pressed her body against him to feel it better. They slid off the tree and never paused, rolling in the leaves and moss while their lips stayed locked and their arms wrapped about each other.
