Night of the Dragon

by Julie Kagawa

  “There’s the island! Master, we’re here. We’ve arrived.”

  “Silence.”

  Lord Seigetsu’s tone was harsh. Chilled, Suki turned as the silver-haired man rose, moving slowly as if in a dream. His face caused a shiver to creep up her spine; she had never seen him look as shaken as he did now. He swayed on his feet, putting a hand against the carriage wall to steady himself, making Taka gasp.

  “Are you all right, Master?”

  Seigetsu didn’t seem to hear him. “No,” he murmured, but it was clear he was speaking to himself. “If she is gone now, the game is lost. I will not allow it.”

  His golden eyes shifted to Suki, and she shrank back at the emptiness behind them. In that stare, she saw a hunger that could swallow stars and drain the ocean. But then he blinked and returned to his normal, elegant self.

  “Suki-chan.” His voice was a caress, quiet and soothing. “I fear I must ask for your help. No, I... I must beg for your help.” He stepped forward, holding out a long-fingered hand to her. “Please. The game is balanced on a razor’s edge, and a single mistake could undo everything. If one piece disappears, the rest will follow. Including the Taiyo noble you still love.”

  Daisuke-sama. Suki trembled, remembering Taka’s ominous words when he was in the throes of prophecy. The white-haired prince seeks a battle he cannot win. He will break upon the demon’s sword, and his dog will follow him unto death.

  “You can still save him,” Seigetsu murmured. “His destiny is not yet decided. But we must act quickly, or they could all be lost. Will you help them?”

  I have to be brave, Suki told herself, though she was still trembling. If it means changing Daisuke-sama’s fate, I will play Lord Seigetsu’s game.

  Seigetsu-sama was still standing quietly, his golden eyes never leaving her. Suki hesitated a moment longer, gathering her courage, then raised her chin.

  “What...what do you need me to do, Seigetsu-sama?” she whispered.

  He smiled, and it was like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. “I need your eyes, Suki-chan,” he told her. “I need to see what is happening on the island, and I don’t dare set foot on it myself. Not yet. Though it has been a long time, it still recognizes me.” That made her frown in confusion, but Seigetsu-sama didn’t explain.

  “I wish to see through your eyes, Suki-chan,” Seigetsu went on. “You can go places I cannot, into the heart of the Tsuki itself. Genno’s forces lurk just outside, like a shark circling a wounded seal, but they have not set foot on the island yet, either. The kami would sense them, but they will not notice another spirit wandering the land. Would you allow me this? To see through your eyes, and find those souls most important in the coming days?”

  Suki considered. What Seigetsu-sama was asking didn’t seem so bad, but it still made her very uncomfortable. Magic, in any form, frightened her. After all, it was Lady Satomi’s blood magic that had summoned the oni that had killed her. “How would that work, Seigetsu-sama?” she asked. “Do I...need to do anything?”

  “No, Suki-chan,” Seigetsu said gently. “You needn’t do anything. Only accept the fact that I will be with you, seeing through your eyes. When I meditate, the two of us will be connected, and I will be able to use you as a vessel for my consciousness. But only if you are willing. Are you?”

  Suki was vaguely aware that Taka was standing beside them, gazing up at her with hooded eyes and a slight pout on his face. She didn’t know why he was unhappy; perhaps he was upset that Seigetsu-sama had spoken to him coldly. If Suki was being honest, she wasn’t certain she liked this idea, but Lord Seigetsu had always been truthful with her, even if he never told her everything. And if she was determined to save Daisuke-sama and see this game through to the end, there was only one answer she could give.

  “Yes, Seigetsu-sama. I... I am willing.”

  He gave her that comforting smile. “Good,” he whispered. “Time is short, Suki-chan. And the game marches on. Come.” He held out an elegant hand to her. “Once we establish a connection, I will be able to go where you go, and see what you see.”

  “Will...it hurt?” Suki wanted to know as she drifted close. Lord Seigetsu shook his head.

  “It will not,” he assured her. “You won’t even know I am there. Just close your eyes, Suki-chan, and empty your mind. This will not take long.”

  Suki did as he asked, and felt the lightest brush against her forehead, which shocked her for a moment and nearly caused her to open her eyes. She had long been unable to feel anything physical, her insubstantial form moving through everything she touched. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to interact with the world, and only her awe and trust in Seigetsu-sama kept her from flinching back.

  “There,” Lord Seigetsu murmured, and the sensation faded as quickly as it had come. “Now when I meditate, I will be able to find you, even if you are a great distance away. Thank you for this, Suki-chan. I am in your debt.”

  “It is nothing, Seigetsu-sama,” Suki whispered. “I... I want to help. I don’t know exactly what is going on, but I know that the fox girl is important. If I can aid them, I want to try. And I... I want Daisuke-sama to be happy.” Maybe then she could finally move on.

  Seigetsu nodded. “We will change the course of destiny together, Suki-chan,” he said quietly, and motioned out the door with a billowy sleeve. To the great island floating beneath them in the sea. “These are the lands of the Moon Clan, the most spiritual of the great families. Long ago, they made a vow to the kami that they would remain distant from the politics of the empire and live in peace with the spirits of the island. That is their capital, Shinsei Yaju, the City of Sacred Beasts.” He gestured, and Suki looked down to see a sprawling collection of buildings and roads surrounded by a massive forest. She had never seen a city from the air before, and marveled that something so huge could seem so tiny when viewed from the clouds.

  “The daimyo of the Moon Clan resides there,” Seigetsu went on, and for just a moment, Suki thought he sounded...wistful. “All decisions regarding the islands come from the Moon Clan Palace. That is where the seat of power dwells, and that is where our players will be heading. If they survived the last challenge.

  “Suki-chan...” Seigetsu turned to her again. “You must be my eyes. I need you to go to the Moon Clan Palace and look for the fox girl and the others. Let no one in the palace see you, but return to me at once if you find them. Can you do this?”

  “Yes, Seigetsu-sama,” Suki whispered.

  “Then, go,” Seigetsu said. “And don’t be afraid. I will be with you until you return.”

  A tiny thrill of fear went through her, but she pushed it aside. Ignoring Taka’s dour glare, she shimmered into a ball of light, flew out of the carriage into open sky and soared in the direction of the island.

  9

  The Kodama’s Favor

  TATSUMI

  Something cold and wet slapped my face, dragging me out of oblivion, and I opened my eyes.

  Brilliant, searing light made me grimace. I lay on my stomach, my cheek pressed into cold pebbles, something sharp jutting uncomfortably into my ribs. Wincing, I raised my head and found myself on a stretch of rocky beach, black outcroppings jutting up between sand and pebbles. I lay half in, half out of the water, and though my clothes were drenched, I could feel the sun beating down on my back and shoulders.

  A wave crawled over my body, hissing and smelling of brine, and my stomach roiled. I hunched my shoulders and retched up seawater, coughing and heaving until my stomach was empty. Panting, I pushed up, then sat back on my heels and gazed around, trying to get my bearings.

  A rocky shoreline stretched away to either side of me, vanishing into a dense forest of pine and cedar. There were no docks, ships, buildings or any hint of civilization. I had no idea which island I was on, though I suspected this was Ushima, as we’d been closest to the Tsuki capital when we were attacked. Th
e beach itself was scattered with broken boards, crates, barrels and other debris. Clearly the ship had not survived the encounter with the umibozu.

  A flutter of white and red caught my eye, making my stomach turn over. Yumeko lay in a nearby tide pool, draped across a splintered plank that kept her face out of the water. Her body bobbed limply with the waves, her eyes were shut, and her skin was nearly as white as her robes. I remembered the terror I’d felt when the kitsune had gone overboard, thrown from the ship by the power of the umibozu’s attacks. I remembered diving into the cold, inky waters without hesitation, reaching the girl, dragging her back to the surface. The umibozu had still been raging about, smashing what remained of the Seadragon’s Fortune to splinters, and the water was filled with debris and bodies. Yumeko had slumped against me, her skin cold and her body limp in my arms. Gazing around, I’d spotted a blot against the horizon, a silhouette darker than the sky it was cast against. Ushima Island, or at least one of the Moon Clan islands; I wasn’t going to be picky. Trying my best to keep the girl’s head out of the water, I’d struck out for that tantalizing glimpse of land. That was the last thing I remembered.

  I staggered to my feet and splashed through the pools to carefully gather Yumeko in my arms. She was alarmingly light, her small frame like a collection of twigs wrapped in silk, and my stomach twisted. Holding the girl close, I turned and carried her up the beach, my chest tightening with every step, my breath becoming ragged as I stumbled toward dry land.

  Not dead, I told myself. She’s not dead. Not now. I stared at her pale face, uncertain if I was trying to convince myself or screaming a challenge to the fortunes who dictated fate. We’ve come this far, Yumeko; you can’t leave us yet.

  Near the edge of the forest, I knelt and gently laid the girl on a patch of grass in the sun. With shaking fingers, I checked the pulse in her neck, bracing myself to find nothing, to accept that her spirit had fled, and that the cheerful, optimistic fox girl was gone. For a heartbeat, she lay still as death, her skin pallid and her body limp, and for one sickening moment, nothing in the world mattered at all.

  Then there was a flutter beneath my fingers, and I could breathe again. Though the burst of relief was short-lived. Yumeko’s heart still beat, but it was faint, frighteningly erratic, and a cold certainty crept over my thoughts. Yumeko was alive, but she was fading. Unless I could stop it, the fox girl wouldn’t last the night.

  Carefully, I eased aside the fabric of her robe to fully reveal what I was dealing with, and my blood chilled. A shard of wood jutted from her skin just below her ribs, the flesh around it oozing and swollen. Grimly, I checked my travel pouch, discovering what I had feared: I still had a roll of soggy bandages, but the powder to make medicine and numbing healing salves was gone, washed away in the sea. I would have to make do with what was left.

  Yumeko remained unresponsive as I drew the piece of wood from her flesh, gritting my teeth as it came free, the jagged end soaked with blood. I cleaned and dressed the wound as best I could, the girl lying so still that twice I checked her pulse to make sure she was still alive. The silence throbbed in my ears, mocking me with its emptiness. Though it was probably best that she was unconscious for this, I wanted her to open her eyes, to yelp and jerk back, to tell me to be gentle. Yumeko was light and noise and cheerful, guileless wonder. Seeing her like this, pale and limp, knowing that she might never wake up again, made my stomach tighten and a knot form in my chest.

  She’s going to die, Tatsumi. You know that. The thought was both mine, the logical part of me that was used to blood and death, and also Hakaimono’s. She’s lost too much blood, and you might be days away from any help. You won’t be able to save her, and time is running out to stop Genno. Let her go.

  “Shut up,” I growled to both sides of myself. They relented, but the terrible knowledge still remained. Yumeko was dying. And I had seen enough injury and death, in both my lifetimes, to know the terrible moment where her heart stopped forever was not far away.

  But I would not let her go without a fight.

  Reluctantly tearing myself from the girl, I stood, trying to get my bearings as I gazed around. Before me, the ocean stretched on to the horizon. To either side, a jagged, rocky shoreline continued until it curved and was lost from view. Behind me, the forest loomed, thick and tangled. From the position of the sun, I estimated we were on the northern side of the island, and Heishi, the port town to which the ship was originally headed, was somewhere along the west coast. I didn’t know if there were any closer towns or villages, or how far away I really was, but Yumeko needed help, and that vague direction was all I had to go on.

  Turning from the ocean, I bent and lifted the girl in my arms, feeling the lightness of her body, that ominous sensation of wrongness that came when death was not far behind. Closing my eyes, I bent my head until our foreheads touched, willing my strength into the fading body, praying my thoughts would reach her.

  Stay with me, Yumeko. Don’t die on me now. If you’re gone, how will I find a reason to fight for anything?

  The waves hissed over the rocky shoreline, and overhead, the sun slipped a little farther from the sky. Setting my jaw, holding the girl close, I walked into the forest.

  The trees closed around us, huge and dense, blocking the wind and the sounds of the ocean. The farther I walked, the thicker the forest became, until there was nothing but trees and tangled undergrowth in every direction. Overhead, the canopy shut out the sky, only a few spots of sunlight poking through the leaves to mottle the floor. Moss grew everywhere, a thick spongy carpet that covered rocks and trees alike, muffling my footsteps and casting a green tinge over everything. The forest felt ancient, alive.

  And it was watching us.

  I could sense eyes on me from every angle, curious and intense. More than once, there was a ripple in the corner of my vision, a shimmer of movement through the trees, though nothing was there when I turned my head. Sometimes I was almost certain I saw faces, dark eyes peering between the branches, watching me through the leaves. Always gone when I focused on them, like shadows vanishing in the sun. Spirits and forest kami, I guessed, judging from how ancient and wild these woods felt. Like they had not seen the tread of human feet for centuries. Briefly, I wondered what the kami that called this place home thought about a demon marching through their territory, if they would take offense and try to do something about it, or simply wait until I was gone. I hoped they would not interfere; I wasn’t afraid of what they would do to me, but if Yumeko was hurt or killed because of it, this forest would burn to ash before I was done.

  Evening fell, and the forest continued, growing thicker and wilder the farther I walked. Ancient mossy trees towered over me, curtains of lichen trailing to the ground like silk streamers. Pale blue and white toadstools glowed with an eerie luminance on logs and fallen branches, brightening the forest floor as the daylight faded. Fireflies began drifting through the air, winking in and out of existence, and floating balls of ghostly fire—tsurubebi, onibi or other spirits—flew through the branches, trailing wisps of light behind them. The air was alive with kami and magic, and I continued to feel dozens of invisible eyes watching me as I walked through the undergrowth.

  My legs shook, and I stumbled and fell to my knees with a soft curse. The fight with the umibozu, being half drowned, my own wounds and the long march through the forest with no water or food were taking their toll. As I knelt there, gathering my strength to press on, my instincts pricked a warning, and I raised my head.

  A kodama, one of the tiny tree kami of the forests, stood on a moss-covered log a few feet away, watching me with pupilless black eyes. My heart jumped, but as soon as our gazes met, it vanished, winking from sight before I could say a word. I could suddenly see more of the tiny green spirits in the branches around me, peering from behind leaves, but they, too, disappeared as soon as they realized I’d spotted them. Perhaps they were keeping an eye on the demon strolling th
rough the forest, or maybe they were curious as to what he was carrying.

  I looked down at Yumeko. She lay cradled in my arms with her head against my chest, eyes closed and face slack. Alarmed, I felt for a pulse again and found it, faint and erratic, in her wrist. Still fighting. Not gone yet.

  Setting my jaw, I pushed myself to my feet to continue on.

  As I started forward, there was the faintest stirring from the body in my arms, the softest intake of breath, and my heart jumped. I didn’t stop, walking doggedly into the undergrowth, as Yumeko shifted against me and raised her head.

  “Tatsumi?”

  Her voice was weak, barely a whisper. It both caused my heart to leap and dread to blossom in my stomach at how faint it was. “I’m here,” I told her quietly.

  “What...happened?” She turned her head a bit, trying to gaze around us. “Where are we?”

  “The umibozu destroyed the ship,” I went on. “We’re on one of the Tsuki islands, hopefully Ushima.”

  “The others?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I haven’t seen them. If they’re still alive, I can only assume they’ll meet us in Heishi.”

  “I feel strange.”

  “You...were badly hurt, Yumeko.” I swallowed the tightness in my throat. I had to keep her talking, keep her awake. If she fell asleep again, I knew for a certainty that she wasn’t waking up again. “We’re not far from Heishi,” I lied. “Just hold on a little longer. What do you know about the Tsuki family?”

  “The...Moon Clan? Not a lot.”

  “Tell me what you do know.”

  She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. I continued through the forest, seeing flashes of movement through the trees and undergrowth, spirits or kami keeping just out of sight.

  “The Tsuki are the most reclusive of the great families,” Yumeko went on, sounding like she was quoting something from a history class. Her voice slurred, as if she was battling exhaustion. “They used to live among the other clans, but two thousand years ago the entire Tsuki family moved to the islands off the western coast, and they’ve stayed there ever since. They don’t like visitors, and they rarely get involved in the other clans’ problems. No one knows much about them, but it’s said that they’re close to the kami. Although, the kami here...feel very sad.” Raising her head, she peered up at the branches. “This forest...feels sad,” she whispered. “Sad, but...but also angry. Like it’s lost something, but it can’t remember what it is.” She slumped against me again as her strength failed her. “Gomen, I don’t remember much else.”