Night of the Dragon

by Julie Kagawa

  “It appears we have reached the end,” Daisuke murmured as the ronin poured sake into his cup and only a few drops came out. “Should we send for more, Okame-san?”

  “No.” The ronin set the bottle down, looking oddly serious. “I want to stay mostly sober tonight,” he admitted. “Seems like a good idea, what with the final battle being so close. Nothing like tripping drunkenly over your own feet and falling on some demon’s spear because you couldn’t see straight.”

  “That would not be a glorious way to go,” Daisuke agreed. “Though I once met a perpetually drunken master who might argue the point.”

  The ronin chuckled. “Ah, if only I’d known about the drunken masters when I was younger,” he sighed. “I think I might’ve missed my calling. But there is another reason I’m embracing soberness tonight. I wanted to talk to you, Daisuke-san, and I didn’t want it coming out as drunken ramblings. Because I...may not get another chance to say this...”

  He paused, a flush creeping up his neck as he looked away. Daisuke straightened slowly, somberness chasing away his relaxed manner.

  “I... That is...ah, kuso.” The ronin rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should’ve been drunk for this, after all,” he muttered.

  “There is no shame is talking to me, Okame-san,” Daisuke said quietly. “We are alone here. I will promise that whatever you have to say will earn you no ridicule or scorn. I have always admired your honesty, even if it was hard to hear. Please, speak your mind. I will not judge, I swear it.”

  “Kuso,” the ronin muttered again. “You know, from any other noble, that would come off as arrogant and condescending. But not you.” He snorted, shaking his head, but it didn’t seem angry or mocking, just resigned. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Taiyo-san. You are everything I thought I despised about the samurai, but the one exception is that you actually believe in the ideal of Bushido. The entire Code, not just the parts that are convenient. Not just the parts that will uphold your own personal honor.”

  “The Code of Bushido,” Daisuke said in a serious voice, “is a contradiction, Okame-san. How can one be compassionate and obedient if one’s lord demands cruelty? How can one have self-control if slaughtering his enemies brings him glory? If honor is everything, then why is it so easy to lose?”

  “Daisuke-san.” The ronin’s voice was amused but weary. “Even if I wanted to, I’ve had way too much sake to debate the contradictive nature of Bushido and the samurai. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

  “Then what do you wish to say, Okame-san?”

  “Why me?”

  Daisuke blinked. He appeared genuinely surprised by the question, though Suki didn’t know what the ronin was talking about. “What do you mean, Okame-san?” Daisuke asked, echoing her own thoughts.

  “I mean...” The other man raked a hand through his hair, his neck going red again. “You’re a Taiyo. You could have your pick of literally anyone in the empire. And normally, I’m all for that. Hell, I’ve had a couple rowdy nights in a village just to blow off some steam. But you don’t seem that type.” The ronin paused, brow furrowed as he stared down at the polished table edge. Daisuke was motionless, hardly breathing, as if he feared any movement would shatter the world around them. Though he never took his gaze from the man across from him.

  “So, why me?” the ronin said once more. “I’m a ronin dog, you’re the golden Taiyo. The status gulf between us couldn’t be any wider. Am I just a passing fascination? Something you wanted to pursue because your family isn’t here? Or have you gotten so bored and disillusioned of the court, you wanted to do something completely profane, just to spite it?”

  “Is...is that what you believe, Okame-san?” Daisuke’s voice actually trembled. “Truly?”

  The ronin let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” he admitted with a hopeless gesture. “No. I don’t believe that. It’s just...” He gazed down at the table with shadowed eyes, as if he found the reflection staring back at him wanting. “I have never felt this way before,” he murmured. “About anyone. Especially for a swaggering court peacock who should represent everything I hate about samurai. And you...you keep talking about a glorious death, Daisuke-san. Like it’s a game, something you’re racing toward, when personally, I have spent my entire life trying to survive one more day. Not to mention, I selfishly want to keep you around for as long as I can. But that’s me—an honorless ronin dog.” He sighed again, though this time it sounded sad, and glanced up at the still-motionless noble. “I’m not afraid of death, Daisuke-san,” he said softly, “but...if I am going to die with someone... I want what we have to be real.”

  For a moment, the Taiyo noble didn’t move. His beautiful face was expressionless, his eyes distant and unreadable. The ronin dropped his gaze again, looking down at his hands.

  In one elegant motion, Daisuke rose, took two steps around the table and sank to his knees behind the ronin, slipping his arms around his neck. The other’s breath caught, and he closed his eyes as Daisuke leaned in, his lips at the ronin’s ear.

  “I would not ask just anyone to die with me, Okame-san,” he whispered. “You are more than ronin. You have loyalty, courage, compassion, everything a warrior should strive for, and your honesty about the world is something most samurai are blind to. It would be an honor to meet that glorious death at your side.”

  “Daisuke.” The ronin’s voice was a breath; his hands reached up to grip the noble’s arms. In the corner, Suki couldn’t move, her mind spinning like a child’s top, unable to settle on any one thought or feeling. “Maybe we won’t die,” the ronin went on in a gruff whisper. “Maybe we’ll win that battle, after all.”

  “I hope so,” Daisuke murmured back. “And I will do everything in my power to ensure Yumeko-san emerges victorious. Genno will be defeated, and the Wish will not be used for evil in this era. But we are not the heroes of this story, Okame-san. It will be in the hands of a Shadow Clan demon and a half-kitsune peasant girl to save the empire and carry us to victory.” A wry smile crossed his face. “Any other might hear those words and despair, but I have faith in our fox girl. After everything we have seen, everything thrown into our path, I believe she has the favor of the gods themselves. I am honored to have played even a small part in her story.”

  “Yeah,” the ronin agreed, and gave his head a rueful shake. “It’s been a pretty crazy journey,” he muttered. “One I wouldn’t trade for anything. But I think you’re right, Daisuke-san. I think... I think we’re coming to the end, whatever it may be. This fight for the Dragon scroll—it’s that kind of battle where not all of us are going to make it.” He sighed, leaning his head back. “I just hope the poets get my name right when they sing songs about us.” He snorted. “Ah, hell, who am I kidding? I’ll be happy if my name is mentioned in the story at all.”

  “It will be,” Daisuke promised. “When they speak of us, Okame-san, it will be of the courageous ronin and the brave noble, standing against insurmountable odds, putting aside all differences in honor and status to protect the empire. Those will be the songs they will sing, Okame-san, the stories they will tell. Immortalized for all time. And in that way, we will always be together.”

  “The dog and the peacock,” the ronin said, and chuckled. His arm rose, his fingers slipping into the noble’s long white hair, pulling him close. “That sounds like a terrible poem. I hope someone writes it.”

  “I hope so, as well,” Daisuke murmured. “But that battle is still on the horizon. It draws ever closer, but it is not here yet.” He lowered his head, his lips brushing the ronin’s shoulder, making the other draw in a slow breath. “Tonight is for the present. For sake and memories, and thinking back on all that has brought us here. For making sure that, should Meido call to us tomorrow, we will have no regrets tonight.”

  The ronin shivered. “No regrets, peacock?” he whispered.

  “None.”

  “
To our glorious death, then.” At that, the ronin turned his head fully, meeting Daisuke’s lips, and nothing more was said between them.

  Suki fled their presence, flying through the ceiling, passing rafters and upper floors, until she went out through the roof. The night sky opened before her, scattered with a million stars, a pale moon veiled in the clouds like a silver coin. She paused, hovering over the peak of the tallest roof, the valley of the Moon Clan spread before her, and tried to sift through the emotions swirling through her insubstantial form.

  I loved Daisuke-sama. Suki had always known that. From the moment she’d nearly bowled into him at the Golden Palace, she had been captivated by his beauty and his charm, but mostly by his kindness. Even to a humble maid. Some would scoff, claiming that one chance meeting between two people was not enough for a soul to fall in love. Suki would disagree. She had loved the Taiyo noble, knowing it would never be reciprocated, knowing he would never see her that way, not hoping for anything save a glimpse of his smile now and again. When she died, her soul had lingered on for one purpose only: to make certain Daisuke-sama was safe. Above all, she wanted him to be happy.

  And now, it seemed he had found something, someone, who could do that.

  I am...happy for you, Daisuke-sama, Suki thought, surprised to find that she really meant it. She was dead; jealousy and all the strife that came with it seemed silly and rather pointless. Perhaps, according to the ghost stories her mother used to tell, if she had died with such strong emotions in her heart, that anger would manifest itself onto the ronin. But she felt no malice toward the object of Daisuke’s affection, no feelings of rage or ill will. Maybe she was incapable of it now.

  I hope he brings you peace, Daisuke-sama. I am glad that you will have someone at your side in the final battle. May you both know happiness, for however long you have left.

  A strange lightness filled her. For a moment, she could almost feel her bonds to the earth loosening, fading away. For a heartbeat, the world below did not seem quite so real anymore, and she sensed that if she simply stopped thinking, she would drift away into the unknown and whatever horizons lay beyond.

  No. Suki shook herself, and a new resolve filled her ghostly body. It isn’t over. I can’t leave yet. Not before I know how it ends.

  Overhead, the moon glimmered, and the distant halo of light seemed to beckon to her once more. Suki turned away from the sky and drifted back to the earth. Flying over the pond, leaving a trail of light behind her, she soared past the palace of the Moon Clan and disappeared into the forest.

  14

  Fox Magic in the Moonlight

  Yumeko

  It was a strangely surreal walk back to the palace. My mind felt like a swarm of moths, flitting crazily around a chochin lantern. I barely knew where I was going or what I was doing, until the servant paused in the hallway and informed me that we had reached my quarters. Inside was a small, simple room with thick tatami mats and an alcove with a tiny shrine dedicated to the kami. Through a pair of open shoji, I could see a veranda surrounding the room, and the lake beyond shimmering in the moonlight.

  On the veranda, I leaned my elbows on the railing and gazed over the water, thinking back on everything that had happened tonight. All that had been revealed. It still felt like a dream. Maybe I’d imagined that whole conversation with Kiyomi-sama. All my life, I hadn’t known who I was or where I came from. But now...

  “What did the daimyo have to say?”

  I jumped. “Tatsumi!” I exclaimed as a shadow melted silently off the wall behind me. Tatsumi, still disguised as an old monk in long robes and a straw hat, met my gaze with that calm stoicism he did so well.

  “Did you find out what you needed? Will the Moon Clan help us?”

  “Yes.” I dissolved the illusion in a puff of smoke, letting the image of the monk fade into the breeze. If Kiyomi-sama already knew what he was, there was no point in trying to hide it. Though he might still need a hat so as not to terrify the rest of the court. “Kiyomi-sama agreed to aid us,” I went on as Tatsumi pulled a leaf from his hair, gazed at it for a curious moment and let it flutter into the water. “The Moon Clan will be ready to defy the Master of Demons when the time comes. Kiyomi-sama knows where the Summoning will be. With any luck, she will have her forces in place before Genno ever gets there. If we can reach the valley before him, all we’ll have to do is hold them off until the time for the Summoning has passed.”

  “Good.” Tatsumi joined me at the railing, his eyes dark as he gazed over the water. “The army we fought at the Steel Feather temple wasn’t Genno’s full force,” he added. “And he knows we’re going to try to stop him. The daimyo’s plan is sound, but the rest of us should head to the Summoning site because once the battle begins, Genno will be relentless. He will likely find a way through or around the army, and we need to be there when he arrives to summon the Dragon.”

  I nodded. “We’ll stop him,” I promised, lacing back my ears. “He’s not going to summon the Dragon. Even if I have to stab him myself...though he is a ghost, so I suppose I’d have to use Kamigoroshi for that to work.” I clenched my fists, then glanced at the demonslayer at my side. “Promise me you’ll kill him, Tatsumi,” I said. “No matter what it takes, we have to win. I don’t care what you have to do—don’t let him summon the Dragon and use the Wish. Promise me.”

  “I will, but...” Tatsumi cocked his head, a concerned frown crossing his face as he watched me. “We’ve always known the stakes, Yumeko. Nothing has changed. Are you all right?”

  “I...” Pushing myself off the railing, I walked a few steps away, trying to put the fluttering thoughts in my head into words. “Kiyomi-sama... The daimyo...”

  “She’s your mother.”

  I whirled in surprise. Tatsumi offered a faint smile. “She looks just like you,” he told me softly. “And from the conversation in the hall earlier, it wasn’t that difficult to figure out.” The smile widened a bit, though his voice stayed gentle. “So, you really are a kami princess.”

  “I can’t lose now, Tatsumi,” I whispered. “Before, I was alone. I thought I’d lost my only family to demons. But now...” I gazed back at the water, at the rest of the palace shining under the light of the moon. “I can’t watch this disappear,” I murmured. “I want to stay, to learn. To catch up on everything I missed. But if Genno destroys all of this...” I put a shaking hand on the railing, closing my eyes. “It doesn’t seem fair,” I said quietly, as Denga’s stern face flashed before me, one brow raised and unimpressed. Do you think life is fair, fox girl? he’d asked on more than one occasion. Do you think it cares about your petty desires?

  “I just...found her,” I stammered out. “All those years at the temple, not knowing who I was, not really caring about my past. And now, I find out who I am, where I came from, on the eve when we could lose everything?” I sniffed, shaking my head. “The kami have a strange sense of humor.”

  Master Isao shimmered through my memory, his smile gentle as he met my gaze. Life is not fair, Yumeko-chan, he murmured. Life is balance. Before spring, there must be winter. Before the sun, there must be darkness. What is, is what must be.

  There was a pause, and then a warm, calloused hand closed over my own. I looked up into Tatsumi’s solemn eyes.

  “I promise, Yumeko,” he said in a quiet, intense voice. “Genno will die. I won’t let him destroy what you’ve found here. I’ll fight to protect you and all you care for. You have my word.”

  My vision blurred. Stepping forward, I leaned into him and he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. For a moment, we stayed like that, our breaths mingling and the moonlight blazing down on us. Tatsumi’s fingers slipped into my hair, sliding it through his palm in an almost reverent manner, as if he were amazed by something so simple. Closing my eyes, I relaxed into him and listened to his heartbeat, remembering the first time I’d seen the cold, purple-eyed killer in the woods outside my
burning home. He had changed so much since that terrible night. I wondered if my old self would even recognize the beautiful half-demon holding me in his arms now.

  I wondered if I would recognize myself.

  “Arigatou,” I whispered. “For everything, Tatsumi. I wouldn’t have made it this far... I wouldn’t have found her, if it wasn’t for you.”

  He gazed down at me, his eyes softer than I’d ever seen before. “My life is yours,” he said simply, his voice barely above a murmur. One palm framed the side of my face, long fingers and calloused skin pressing against my cheek. “You gave me purpose again, Yumeko. On my honor, I’ll make sure you have a home to go back to.”

  Leaning in, he kissed me. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling his own tighten around my waist, almost lifting me off my feet. My heart pounded as ribbons of light and heat began coiling through my stomach, spreading through my chest and every part of my body.

  The snap of a shoji screen pulled me out of the emotions beginning to swirl around us. Drawing back, I frowned as a noble stepped onto the veranda several doors down, pausing to admire the lake and moonlight, before she turned in our direction. Tatsumi and I didn’t move, but the noble stiffened, and though it was too far to see her face clearly, I thought I saw her turn rather red. Smoothly, she pivoted, pretending to admire the lake once more, then walked swiftly down the veranda and disappeared around a bend.

  Tatsumi didn’t seem concerned or affected by our sudden visitor, but I felt my cheeks flush. Drawing out of his embrace, I took his hands and started backing toward my room. Tatsumi followed without question or hesitation, though his eyes were faintly puzzled, his head tilted at a curious angle. When we had crossed the threshold, I released him, went to the doors and closed them with faint snaps, shutting out the sky and the enormous silver moon. The room dimmed, plunged into darkness and shadow, and I turned around with a deep breath.