by Julie Kagawa
“Over that rise is Tani Kaminari, the Valley of Lightning,” Tsuki-sama told us, gesturing up the slope to the clouds crawling above it. “Beyond the valley is the ascent to the sacred cliffs of Ryugake, where the Dragon will be summoned. Whatever is waiting for us, whatever lies between the valley and the cliffs, we must reach the Summoning site if we want any hope of stopping the Master of Demons.”
“Then let us stop talking about it,” Lady Hanshou said quietly. “There is no time left. My scouts have reported demons in the valley, apparently pouring from a hole in the very earth. They could not tell me where this hole came from or why it appeared, but both were nearly out of their minds with terror. There is no doubt that Genno is close.” She lifted her chin, giving the Moon Clan daimyo an almost challenging look. “The Shadow Clan stands ready to die defying the Master of Demons, Lady Moon. Is your clan prepared to do the same?”
Kiyomi-sama’s jaw tightened. But instead of answering the Kage ruler, she deliberately turned away from her, her gaze seeking me. “Yumeko-san,” she said in a soft voice, making my stomach tighten at the hidden emotion in her words. “Fate, it appears, has been cruel to us both. Were these any other circumstances, I would thank the Kami for guiding you here, for giving me another chance to rediscover something I lost so long ago. But I realize destiny has another path for you, and that you were brought here for a specific purpose, one that my selfish desires cannot stand in the way of.” Kiyomi-sama briefly closed her eyes, a flash of pain crossing her face, before she opened them again, hard and determined. “And so, I will release you with these words. Do not worry about me, do not think of my clan—this night, we are but tools to help you achieve your purpose. When this is over, and we both yet live, perhaps there will be time to mourn the years lost, and to celebrate the ones that remain. But not tonight.” Her gaze lifted, staring at something on the horizon, her voice going distant. “There will be loss this day, Yumeko-san,” she told me. “Loss, and grief, and sacrifice. And there may come a time where you will have to make a choice. But you know what you must do.”
I swallowed the tightness in my throat, trying not to let the tears pressing against my eyes spill forth as I nodded. “I know.”
“Then may the Kami guide your steps,” Kiyomi-sama whispered. “And may you not falter on your path. I will pray for our victory, and your safe return. Now let us see what Genno has prepared for us.”
We turned, and with Tatsumi, Okame and Daisuke at my side, and the two daimyos leading the way, we walked the rest of the way up the rise and gazed down toward the valley.
Into hell itself.
The valley floor was a writhing, squirming mass of demons. Demons, amanjaku and monsters I didn’t even have a name for crawled, leaped or slithered over the ground. Terrible oni stomped their way through the crowds, ignoring the lesser demons or swatting them out of the way. Wanyudo and other flying horrors wheeled through the sky, leaving trails of flame behind them.
But even more chilling than the demons were the hundreds of wailing, tormented spirits that swarmed through the ranks of monsters. All once human, surrounded by a sullen red glow, they drifted over the ground, their voices a cacophony of madness, rage and grief. Some were dressed in armor, some trailed long white funeral robes behind them and some had only a few rags clinging to their ghostly bodies. Amanjaku tormented them, chasing or stabbing at a passing spirit, laughing as the soul writhed in terror and pain. Sometimes even the oni would take a swat at one of them, though the spirits seemed to instinctively flee from the monstrous demons.
And yet, even that was nothing compared to the true horror that lay below us. In the center of the valley, lit by a baleful purple glow, a gaping pit like the maw of an enormous beast seemed to descend straight into the underworld. Oni, demons and tortured spirits crawled from the fissure in waves, fighting each other as they clawed their way into the living world. My breath came in short gasps, as a fear unlike anything I’d ever felt crawled up to burrow into my heart.
“Merciful Kami,” Kiyomi-sama whispered behind me, her voice faint. “What has Genno done?”
“He’s opened the gates to Jigoku.” Though Tatsumi sounded horrified, there was something in his voice that made me shiver. Something almost contemplative. Hakaimono. I wondered what the First Oni thought of this, of a gate opening directly to his home world. “That’s what Akumu was talking about,” Tatsumi went on, staring into the valley. “Why O-Hakumon allowed Genno’s soul to be summoned to the mortal world. It was to open the way for Jigoku.” He paused, a wry look crossing his face as his voice turned almost gleeful. “I didn’t think the old bastard had it in him.”
“How are we going to get through that?” I whispered, watching even more demons and spirits crawl out of the pit, some being yanked back down by larger demons or even other souls trying to escape. I looked beyond the valley, to a line of jagged cliffs that marked the end of the island. I also saw, with a chill that went through my whole body, a faint, sickly glow that announced the arrival of the dawn. The last full day before the night of the Wish had begun.
“We’re not,” Okame muttered, sounding grave. “There’s no way we’ll be able to cut our way through that. The whole damn army will be pulled down before we’re halfway across.”
“We must.” Kiyomi-sama stepped forward, gazing down on the mass of demons below. “I will make ready my forces. We will march on the valley, and we will meet the enemy today with honor.”
“Kiyomi-sama.” Hanshou spoke, her low voice a warning. “The gate of Jigoku lies open. There is no end to the demons and tortured spirits coming from the pit, and no way to close it. Even if your forces destroy the first wave, more will come, and they will keep coming until every one of us lies dead.”
“The demons are moving,” the Moon daimyo replied far too calmly. “If we do not stop them here, they will reach the city and slaughter everyone still living. But first, they will sweep through the villages, the farmlands, the communities on the outskirts with no walls and no soldiers to protect them. If I must sacrifice my entire army to see my people safe, I will do so.”
“We cannot win this...” Hanshou began.
“I know that, Hanshou-sama,” the Moon daimyo said quietly. “But what would you have me do? Ignore the danger? If your land was threatened with annihilation, would you not give everything to try to stop it?” The Kage ruler fell silent at this, her eyes darkening, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Very well, Lady Moon,” the Shadow ruler said. “If this is your decision, the Kage will fight at your side. The shadows will defend this land for as long as we are able. Kage Tatsumi,” she continued, and I blinked as her dark gaze fastened on the demonslayer. “You know what you must do. There is still time to make up for past failures.” Her lip curled at the edge. “Do not disappoint me.”
Tatsumi didn’t answer his daimyo, just nodded once, and Lady Hanshou turned away, sauntering back down the hill with Masao at her side. Kiyomi-sama paused a moment, then turned to me again.
“Yumeko-san.” Her voice was bleak, but resolved. “I must dispatch messengers to every town and village in Tsuki lands, with orders to evacuate the islands,” she told me. “The people here must flee, or the demons will slaughter us all. The warriors will stay, defend these lands for as long as they are able to fight, but this has become a losing battle. If you decide to leave the island with the rest of my people, I will not fault you.”
“No.” I swallowed hard. “We’re not going to flee. But shouldn’t...shouldn’t you leave with your people, Kiyomi-sama? You’re the daimyo, the leader of the Moon Clan.”
“Yes,” the daimyo replied, and she sounded tired now. “And it is my responsibility to stay. If the gate to Jigoku is not closed, in a few days there will be nothing left of us. My duty as ruler of these lands is to protect my people and every spirit that calls this place their home. Even if those odds are impossible.”
For
a moment, her eyes softened, a shadow of regret or longing crossing her face as she gazed at me. “I am sorry that I will never truly know the child I lost,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But I am grateful I had the chance to see her, if only for a moment.” One slender hand rose, the ends of her fingers barely touching my cheek, as the daimyo gave a sad smile. “Fight well, daughter,” she murmured. “If Fate is kind, perhaps we will meet again in the next life.”
Then the daimyo of the Moon Clan turned and walked away, toward the army waiting for her at the bottom of the rise. I watched her, hardly able to see through my blurry vision, then wrenched my gaze away and turned back to my friends.
Daisuke, watching the demons swarm the valley below, let out a long breath, his pale hair rippling behind him in the wind. “So, we come to the end,” he murmured, one hand resting easily on his sword hilt. The faintest of smiles crossed his face. “It is a good day to die.”
“Better than most, I suppose.” Okame sighed, joining him at the top of the bluff, resting an elbow against Daisuke’s shoulder. “Just don’t go off without me, peacock. We want this to be a good poem, after all.”
Tatsumi met my gaze, his eyes soft and his expression solemn in the growing light. He wasn’t looking at Kiyomi-sama, our friends, or the army of demons and tortured souls swarming the valley behind him. His gaze was only for me. I moved beside him, staring down the rise, at the open maw that continued to spew forth demons, spirits and other horrors. The ground was rocky and broken; there was no grass, trees, bushes or anything that could hide us or provide cover, even if we could sneak through unseen. Surrounding the valley were the stark, jagged cliffs that either rose straight up or plunged down into the ocean. So going around was impossible. Not if we wanted to make it in time.
“Is there...any way we could get through without having to fight?” I wondered, trying not to sound terrified and desperate. “A spell or some kind of Shadow magic that would hide us?”
“I can’t maintain a spell that long,” Tatsumi said grimly. “Even if I could, all it would take was one touch or glance from a demon, and they would see us.”
“What about the Path of Shadows?”
His expression went so grave I instantly disregarded that idea. “Only a powerful majutsushi can open the Path,” he said. “And right now, with the gates to Jigoku open, the veil between the spirit world and the mortal world has been torn apart. Using the Path of Shadows to get through Jigoku...” He shook his head. “We could bring even more spirits into this world, or worse, the demons here could infiltrate Meido itself.”
My stomach twisted. Well, that was a bad, bad idea. And I was out of options. Taking one step forward, I stared at the distant peaks, clenching my fists at my side. Genno was so close, just on the far side of the valley, preparing to summon the Dragon, unopposed. I had promised I would stop him. I had sworn to never let the Wish be used for evil. So many were counting on us to reach this madman, halt the Summoning and save the empire. There was still time. All we had to do was fight our way through the literal plane of hell.
I took a deep breath. “Then, I suppose there’s no other way...except straight through.” An icy fist grabbed my insides and squeezed, making me sick with fear, but I fought down the nausea and forced a smile. “It doesn’t look that bad, really. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Tatsumi stepped close, his voice only for me. “I’ll be right beside you,” he murmured. “If I fall, don’t look back. Keep going, get to Genno, stop the Summoning. I...promise to do the same, if I can.”
Silently, I turned into him, clutching his haori as I pressed my face into the fabric, trying to control my shaking. His arms came up, one slipping around my waist, the other resting against my head as he slid his fingers into my hair. He didn’t say anything, but I heard his heartbeat pounding against my ear, felt the slightest of tremors in his arms, and closed my eyes, letting myself disappear into him for just a moment. One more time, before we went out to meet Jigoku and the army that awaited us.
Fox girl. This way.
I opened my eyes as the faintest of whispers drifted over the wind, tickling my ears. Like the voice of the Kirin, it wasn’t a physical sound so much as a sensation, prodding at my attention. Raising my head from Tatsumi’s chest, I looked around, trying to see who had called to me.
A harsh wind blew along the top of the rise, shaking the grass and causing silver-black shadows to glide over the ground. About a hundred yards away, I could see a lone tree, barren of leaves, the trunk almost white against the darkness.
A figure stood under that tree, her translucent form as pale as the branches and the streams of light through the clouds. Her eyes met mine over the waving grass, and I felt a shiver of recognition run down my spine.
“Suki-san,” I whispered, and felt Tatsumi turn to look as well, stiffening as he caught sight of her. Ghostly and almost invisible in the harsh light, the yurei raised an insubstantial arm and beckoned to us, before turning into a glowing sphere of light and drifting away. But it went only a few feet before it paused, hovering over the grass and casting a silvery circle of light in the air around it.
“She wants us to follow.” This from Daisuke, as he and Okame had also noticed our sudden visitor. “Perhaps we should heed her calling and see what she wants.”
“Yeah, but...” Okame jerked a thumb down the rise, toward the valley and the surging throng at the bottom. “She’s moving away from the giant portal to hell. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for not getting dragged down and ripped apart by demons, but it kind of defeats the purpose of why we’re here.” The ronin gave a shrug and one of his defiant smirks. “I’d hate to have gotten all dressed up and ready to die for nothing.”
“Yumeko-san,” Daisuke said softly. “While I wish for nothing more than to greet my enemies with honor, a visit from Suki-san in the past has always turned the tide in some way. She has never led us wrong before. We should not ignore her presence now.”
I swallowed. “But what about Kiyomi-sama?” I asked. “We can’t leave now. She’ll think we’re abandoning the mission. I don’t want her to think I’m running away.”
“Go,” said a new voice. I looked up, and there was Kage Masao, standing a few feet away with his hands clasped in front of him. I hadn’t heard or seen him approach; he had been with Lady Hanshou the last time I’d checked. But like Tatsumi, it seemed Lady Hanshou’s adviser had the Kage talent for moving unseen. He looked tired, I thought. His fine robes were rumpled, dark circles crouched under his eyes, and a few strands of hair had come loose of his topknot to frame his narrow face. But he still looked poised and elegant as he stood there, smiling faintly as he watched us.
“Go, Yumeko-san,” he urged again. “Do not worry about your daimyo.” His sharp black gaze flicked to Tatsumi standing beside me. “Do not worry about our daimyo. Our fate is sealed. The forces of Shadow and Moon will meet the hordes of Jigoku in battle today, and what comes next has yet to be written. But they know you have a different part to play in this tale. So, do what you must, Yumeko-san. I will inform the daimyos of your decision, but whatever you decide, both Kiyomi-sama and Lady Hanshou trust you will do everything in your power to stop the Summoning. Tatsumi-kun...” He gave Tatsumi one of his knowing, mysterious smiles. “She is quite special, isn’t she?” he said. “I saw it the first time I met her. It seems even Hakaimono cannot help to be drawn to that light.”
Tatsumi went rigid beside me, and Masao chuckled. “Keep her safe, demonslayer,” he said, drawing back. “I do not think I will see you again, so good luck to you both. Yumeko-san, whatever this day brings, it has been an honor knowing you. May the Kami’s favor find you, and may they guide your steps to your final destination.”
“Yours as well, Masao-san,” I replied. “Thank you for all your help.”
He bowed to us both, then turned and walked away, moving gracefully back down the slope toward the army
waiting at the bottom. I spotted Kiyomi-sama among the samurai, and quickly turned away so I wouldn’t see her look up at me. The hitodama that was Suki still hovered in the same place, waiting patiently, and I took a deep breath.
“Okay,” I told my remaining companions, “let’s go.”
We walked along the top of the slope, away from Kiyomi-sama, Lady Hanshou and the forces of Shadow and Moon about to engage the army of Jigoku. With every step, I felt my heart twist a little in my chest, hoping Kiyomi-sama didn’t think I was abandoning the mission or her. I thought I could feel the gazes of the samurai as we walked away, the four of us silhouetted clearly against the stormy sky, and didn’t dare glance down, keeping my gaze on the glowing ball of light floating beneath the tree.
The hitodama didn’t wait for us to catch up. As soon as we started walking, it drifted away, over the grass and gently rising hills, heading north toward the edge of the island. We followed it for a goodly while, walking through grass that sometimes brushed against my thighs, making shushing sounds as we passed. With the mottled clouds and shifting spots of light over the grasslands, it should have been pretty, in a somber sort of way. But the land felt dead, lifeless, without the presence of the kami, and it made my stomach squirm.
Finally, we could go no farther. The grasslands ended at the base of the cliffs, which dropped away into the ocean far, far below. As we approached the edge of the island, I realized I could no longer see the hitodama. Until this moment, it had kept its distance but had always been clearly visible, a distinctive white sphere drifting steadily away. But now, as I looked over the sullen gray ocean, the wind whipping and tugging at my hair, I saw no trace of the glowing ball of light, and my pulse fluttered wildly in alarm.
