by Julie Kagawa
I had no idea how I would make it work.
Tatsumi leaped up beside me, one hand against the frame, and gazed around cautiously, as if he’d expected the carriage to be filled with demons. “There’s a body here,” he said quietly. I jumped and spun around, and he nodded to a shadowy corner. “Yokai. It’s dead.”
I gazed past him to where a small form lay crumpled against the wall, a single enormous eye staring up at nothing. The front of its shirt was dark with blood, as if it had been stabbed through the back. The final expression on the round little face seemed to be one of confusion. For some reason, I felt a twinge of sadness as I stared at the body; I had certainly never seen this yokai before, but he was obviously another pawn in Seigetsu’s endless game, one that had been used and thrown away.
Swallowing, I turned from the body and gazed out the front of the carriage, at the wheels outlined in foxfire, floating several paces above the ground. It responds to your magic, same as mine, Seigetsu had said. So, how did I control this thing? I glanced to where I had last seen the ninetail at the edge of the circle, only to find he was gone. No help from him, then.
The flicker in the pit of my stomach intensified. On impulse, I opened my palms, igniting a flame of kitsune-bi within each of them, and felt the carriage under my feet respond.
Okay, I think I’m onto something. With Tatsumi watching, I shrugged and lifted a flame-shrouded hand toward the ceiling. “Rise?”
The carriage shot upward, like it was being yanked by invisible ropes. I yelped, nearly toppling out the open doors, and felt Tatsumi grab my arm and yank me back. I fell into him, and the carriage pitched to the left, rocking sideways and slamming us against one wall. Tatsumi grunted with the impact, somehow keeping both of us on our feet, as I desperately tried to find my balance to stop the carriage from bucking like a wild horse.
The carriage stopped pitching, though it still swayed and trembled wildly in the sudden gale, the doors banging loudly against the walls. Through the frame, the clouds swirled in frantic, terrifying patterns, rain and hail pummeled the carriage walls, and the roar of the wind sounded like a hurricane. Lightning seared the air, close enough that I felt the hairs on my arms rise, right before the clap of thunder made the walls vibrate. The Dragon was nowhere to be seen.
I shivered, realizing we were going to have to fly headfirst into that shrieking maelstrom, and felt Tatsumi’s arms wrap a little tighter around my waist. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear. “You can do this. Just get us as close to the Dragon as you can. I won’t let you fall.”
I leaned on him gratefully, drawing strength from his touch, and closed my eyes. “How...how can we do this, Tatsumi,” I whispered, my voice coming out shaky and choked. “This is the Great Dragon, the Harbinger of Change, who appears only once every thousand years. What will happen if he’s suddenly gone?”
Tatsumi sighed, pressing his forehead to the back of my neck. “I don’t know,” he murmured darkly. “I can’t imagine the bad fortune that will come with killing a god. This...might be the end of the Shadow Clan. After all the darkness we’ve brought to the empire, killing the Dragon might be the final push for the gods to be done with us forever.”
“Seigetsu planned this,” I went on. “All of this. From tricking Kiyomi-sama to leaving the arrow in the cave to letting Genno summon the Harbinger. Why? What does he gain from the death of a Kami?”
“Who can say?” Tatsumi shook his head. “He’s old, Yumeko. Kitsune who live to be ninetails are at least a thousand years old. Who knows what he wants? Vengeance, perhaps? Or maybe he got tired of mortals changing the course of history every millennium and decided to put an end to it once and for all.”
“Maybe we can talk to him,” I suggested. “The Dragon. Maybe if we get close enough, we can reason with him. It worked in the cave with the spirit of Kiyomi-sama.”
“We can try.” Tatsumi sounded uncertain, though he nodded slowly. “After everything I’ve seen you do, I’ve learned nothing is impossible.” His voice became lower, almost a growl. “But the ninetail is right about one thing. The land cannot bear a corrupted Great Kami. If he has truly gone mad, he has the power to tear the world apart before he’s done.”
Lightning flashed, backlighting the clouds, and within the swirling mass, the coil of a huge silhouette flickered against the darkness. The Dragon. Enraged, corrupted, driven to madness by fury and grief. He would destroy this island and everyone on it, kami, yokai and human alike. Somehow, no matter what it took, we had to stop him.
Kami forgive us. I extended my arm and felt the carriage respond, rising up and flying toward the clouds. I bit my lip as the huge, roiling mass of darkness and lightning loomed above us, and then we were in the heart of the storm.
Wind buffeted us, yanking at the carriage and causing it to plummet every few feet. I clenched my jaw and fought to maintain control as we were tossed and jerked about like a leaf. Through the doors, I couldn’t see anything but rain, roiling clouds and streaks of lightning, some of which came close to hitting the carriage. Tatsumi kept one arm around my waist and the other braced against the wall, talons dug into the wood, keeping us both upright.
Where is the Dragon? I wondered, just as a huge, black-scaled coil slithered through the clouds ahead of us, appearing in a blink and vanishing the next.
“There,” Tatsumi growled as the glimmer of the Dragon’s enormous body appeared again. I sent the carriage after it, but a blast of wind pushed us off course, and the Kami disappeared once more.
Setting my jaw, I chased after the god, plunging into the storm. It was all I could do to keep the carriage steady while pushing through wind, rain and swirling clouds, searching for a dragon the size of a mountain. It shouldn’t have been difficult, but the Dragon moved through the storm like an eel through water, effortlessly sliding in and out of the storm. We were in his territory now, and he was the undisputed lord of the skies. I gritted my teeth against the shrieking of the gale against the carriage and kept flying, feeling like a sparrow trapped in a hurricane.
And then, the curtain of clouds and slashing wind gave way, and we were flying alongside the massive head of the Dragon.
My breath caught at how truly enormous the Great Kami was up close, and how terrifying he looked, his eyes blazing red and his teeth fully bared. His mane and whiskers fluttered behind him, snapping in the wind, and lightning strands seemed to follow him through the clouds, lighting up the sky.
Raising my head, I gazed into the maddened eye of the Harbinger of Change.
“Great Kami!” My voice sounded tiny, nearly lost in the storm and howling wind. “Ryuujin-sama, please listen to me!”
The Harbinger’s eye rolled back, fixing us with a burning glare, and my heart stuttered in terror. There was no sanity in that gaze, no sentience or empathy or reason. Just raw, mindless fury, and a madness that chilled my soul.
Still, I had to try to reach him for the sake of Kiyomi-sama and everyone below. “Ryuujin-sama,” I called again. “Please, stop! This isn’t what you want! I know you’re angry, that you’re in pain, but destroying everything isn’t the answer! Think of all the lives you’re ending, all the souls you’re snuffing out. The people who live here are innocent. They don’t deserve your wrath—”
The Dragon whipped his head around with a roar, jaws gaping. I saw the black hole of his maw, the edges lined with spear-like fangs, and jerked the carriage to the side as those jaws closed with the sound of grinding boulders. As I wheeled away, the Harbinger’s gaze followed me, and he lunged forward with a scream.
Heart in my throat, I turned the carriage and fled through the storm, hearing the thunderous roar of the Dragon behind us. Lightning flashed, missing us by inches and causing the fur on my tail to stand straight up.
Dodging lightning strands, we flew out of a cloud bank, and the island appeared below us, dark and sprawling. I could see the t
errible scar in the earth where the entrance to Jigoku gaped open, the demons and tortured spirits still climbing free. Against the storm and flashes of light, I could see the line where the demons met the armies of the Shadow and Moon Clans, and the terrible battle taking place below. Bodies were scattered across the plain, men and monster alike, though the human army looked frighteningly small compared to the floods coming up from the pit. Still, the line held, the human forces seeming unwilling to give ground until every one of them were slaughtered.
An eerie silence seemed to fall over the battlefield as we soared overhead, the fighting paused as, one by one, human, demon and spirit alike wrenched their gazes upward. Cries of alarm rang out, mouths fell open as the huge Dragon emerged from the storm, baleful crimson eyes glowing against the night as he observed the tiny creatures far below.
With a roar, the Dragon snaked from the clouds, plunging toward the battle, making my stomach drop. As it swooped overhead, a massive cluster of lightning followed it, falling from the sky like rain and searing into both armies. Screams replaced battle cries, shrieks and wails rising over the chaos, as the threads of lightning cut through bodies like they were made of paper. Demons exploded into dark clouds and writhed away on the wind. Humans were flung away, burned and ruined. Even the spirits cringed back, wailing, and fled from the lightning storm, though it didn’t seem to harm them. The stench of smoke, ozone and charred flesh swirled into the carriage, and my stomach churned.
“Yumeko.” Tatsumi’s voice was a growl; one arm was still around my waist, the other had sunk its claws so deep into the frame that the wood had cracked beneath it.
“I know,” I choked out, swallowing the sob in my throat. This had gone too far. The Dragon was beyond saving and had turned his madness on everyone we were trying to protect. “I’ll take us in,” I told the demonslayer, raising my hands to direct the carriage. “I’ll get us as close as I can, and then you can...take him down.”
But as we started toward the Harbinger, the huge Kami paused, hovering overhead as it watched the armies scurry below it. A chilling look went through its glowing eyes, before it coiled around and flew straight up into the clouds, vanishing from sight.
Pinning back my ears, I sent the carriage after it, rising through wind and slashing rain, ignoring the lightning that streaked around us. We broke through the clouds, and the night sky stretched overhead, a giant moon casting silvery light over everything. Directly below us, the storm raged and swirled, a tempest of fury that covered the whole island. Around us, the sea, black and glimmering, stretched in every direction until it hit the horizon.
“Where’s the Dragon?” muttered Tatsumi, purple eyes scanning the sea of flickering clouds.
I swallowed hard, gazing around the suddenly peaceful landscape. “Perhaps he left, after all,” I whispered, knowing it was a foolish hope. “Maybe he got tired of wreaking havoc and went home.”
A ripple went through the surface, and the Dragon rose out of the pale sea, his massive head casting us in his shadow as he spiraled into the air, momentarily blotting out the moon. Hovering over the clouds, the Harbinger raised his head and let out a roar that the emperor in his Golden Palace across the sea must’ve heard. The terrible sound vibrated through my skull and brought tears to my eyes, and I clapped my hands over my ears to drown it out. It didn’t stop, but went on and on for several heartbeats, until I wanted to tear out my eardrums.
Finally, after my head started to throb like it was in a vise, the awful bellow stopped. I slumped against Tatsumi, my ears ringing, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “What...was that?” I muttered.
Tatsumi went perfectly, terrifyingly still. “Yumeko,” he whispered, and his voice was strangled. Chilled, I looked through the open door frame at the sea of clouds and the ocean below, the moonlight letting me see all the way to the horizon.
The horizon looked strange. Almost like it was moving, rippling. Getting closer even as I stared.
My legs shook, and I would’ve collapsed to the floor if Tatsumi hadn’t been holding me up. The horizon wasn’t moving, but the huge wall of water against it was. I couldn’t tell how far away it was, but it seemed that the ocean itself had risen up and was crawling toward us, getting larger and higher with every second that passed.
“Tsunami,” Tatsumi murmured. “The God of Tides has just doomed the entire island.”
No. Panic and terror crushed me from within. I couldn’t catch my breath, thinking of everyone below us, the kami, yokai and humans, battling the demons who still spilled from the gates of Jigoku. Of Kiyomi-sama, the Tsuki and the family I had never known.
Tatsumi’s hold on me tightened, and he drew in a breath, as if bracing himself for the inevitable. “Take us in, Yumeko,” he murmured close to my ear, and I nodded. “We have to kill him. Now.”
I felt sick, but I set my jaw, steeled myself and sent the carriage into the clouds.
Instantly, a blast of wind slammed into the carriage, yanking it sideways and nearly tossing me out the door. Only Tatsumi’s grip around my waist kept me from plummeting to my death. Though it didn’t seem possible, the storm had grown even wilder, perhaps reflecting the chaotic mind of the Harbinger as the Dragon twisted through the clouds.
“Get closer,” Tatsumi muttered in my ear. “Toward its head.”
“I’m trying,” I gritted out, raising my arm to send the carriage after a disappearing coil. For something so big, the Dragon was incredibly fast. And visibility within the swirling clouds was dim at best. “If you can see its head, tell me which direction to—”
There was a blinding flash, and something struck the top of the carriage in an explosion of wood and fire. I shrieked as splinters and flaming bits of wood fell all around us, flickering where they landed. Wind rushed into the space from the gaping hole in the roof, and the walls themselves seemed ready to split apart.
I swallowed my panic, fighting to bring the carriage under control, knowing we couldn’t survive another hit like that. “Where is the Dragon?” I panted, gazing into the roiling clouds, flinching as lightning flashed close. A coil swept across my view and was gone in the next blink. “Dammit, he’s so fast. If he would just stop moving for a second...”
“Harbinger!”
The shout echoed over the storm, faint and tiny, but perfectly clear. A figure rose out of the clouds, seeming uncaring of the lightning that flashed and seared the air around it. At first, I thought the pale, skeletal figure was a demon—despite its elegant kimono, which flapped and billowed in the wind, the claws, horns and shadowy, bat-like wings certainly indicated a demonic nature.
Behind me, Tatsumi drew in a quiet breath. “Hanshou,” he muttered, sounding both stunned and oddly resigned. “She’s finally given in to the darkness.”
I blinked in shock. It was Lady Hanshou, but not the beautiful, elegant daimyo who met me in Hakumei castle. This was the ancient, withered crone I’d seen beneath the illusion, only now it seemed she had abandoned any pretense of humanity. She was more skeleton than human, shriveled and bent, nearly swallowed by her kimono. The tattered, sweeping wings seemed made of shadow, and her eyes flickered red as she rose through the storm, twisting her head from side to side, searching wildly.
“She’s nearly gone,” Tatsumi muttered at my shoulder. “Almost swallowed by Jigoku’s taint. This is a desperate act, even for her.”
“What is she doing?” I asked, wincing as a spear of lightning slashed down, barely missing the Kage daimyo. But the ruler of the Shadow Clan flew on, oblivious to the storm, the danger flashing all around her. Her eyes were wild, her hands withered claws as she continued to rise, until she was in the very center of the maelstrom.
“Harbinger!” Lady Hanshou cried again, beating her wings to hover in the gale. “Dragon! I know you’re here! Face me! Come, behold the creature you created!”
For a moment, nothing happened. The storm raged around us,
impassive. Then, the Dragon’s enormous head rose out of the clouds below, eyes blazing as he loomed above the pale, once-human creature glaring up at him. Hanshou’s lip curled in an expression of pure hate, and she flung out her arms.
“Look!” she snarled at the huge Kami. “Look at me! Was this what you intended all those years ago, Great Dragon? When you granted me immortal life, did you intend to make me a monster?”
The Dragon said nothing, gazing down with a blank, impassive stare, its long whiskers streaming behind it. At Tatsumi’s whispered encouragement, I raised my hands and sent the battered carriage forward, coming at the Harbinger from the side. Wind howled through the cracks in the timber walls, rattling the whole structure, and I bit my lip, praying a stray lightning bolt wouldn’t hit us again. If we suffered another direct strike, the carriage probably wouldn’t survive.
“Two thousand years!” Lady Hanshou was still raging at the Dragon, her voice echoing above the wind and rain. “For two thousand years, I have been this way! Aging, decaying, growing weak and withered. Watching my youth and my health slip away bit by bit, year after year, but never dying. I had to turn to blood magic to protect myself, to save my sanity and my life. You did this!” She pointed a black talon at the Kami, her voice starting to shake. “You said you would grant my heart’s desire, but your Wish was nothing but a curse. And now, you will take it back.”
I had nearly reached the Dragon, coming close enough that I had to avoid one of its long whiskers fluttering in the wind. I ducked under the flapping tendril and gave the carriage a final push, sending it over the Dragon’s horns to soar above its broad head. I felt Tatsumi’s arms release my waist as he moved to the edge of the frame, his jaw set with determination, as Lady Hanshou rose higher in the air to stare the Great Kami in the face.
