by Julie Kagawa
“Wait!” I threw out a hand.
The kitsune flicked a tail, and Yumeko burst into flames in my arms.
Heat seared my arms, my chest, my face, but I barely felt anything as the fox girl instantly shriveled against me and turned to ash, her small body vanishing into the flames. She didn’t even make a sound. I choked, unable to move or even think, watching numbly as the kitsune-bi sputtered and died and I was left holding nothing. Nothing, except...
I blinked. A leaf, tiny and miraculously unsinged, lay in my palm, a curl of white smoke fading into the breeze. My breath caught, my heart stuttering into motion again, as behind me, the Ninetail let out a sigh that almost sounded sad.
“Now, Hakaimono,” it said, crouching down to peer at me with blazing yellow eyes. “Let us continue, with no distractions. If you wish, I will make your death as painless as I did hers.” His jaws gaped open, glowing with blue-white light. “One brief flash, and then nothing. It will be faster than the edge of a blade. The gods must be merciful, after all—”
I rose, turning to face the huge yokai. As, like a streak of lightning from above, another Tatsumi dropped from the sky and drove his sword into the Ninetail’s back.
The fox god roared, rearing up in shock, its multiple tails lashing out wildly. The demonslayer on its back burst into flames and disappeared, but I felt a ripple of fox magic from every direction, as dozens of Tatsumis and Yumekos emerged from the flames. Smiling grimly, the closest Yumeko stepped forward, chin high as she faced the monster fox.
“You are not the Harbinger,” she called. “Power and immortality does not make you a god. The Kami exist because humans worship and revere them. And as long as there is hope, we will keep fighting. The game isn’t over yet.”
She raised an arm, and the demonslayers around her charged. The Ninetail howled, sweeping fire and lightning through their ranks, incinerating demonslayers by the handful. But those that got close lashed out with Kamigoroshi, and blood streaked the monster’s fur as the blades struck home. Screaming, the Ninetail leaped into the air and came down in an explosion of foxfire that might’ve wiped out the whole army. But the Yumekos raised their hands, kitsune-bi flaring in their palms, directing the deadly flames away, sending them harmlessly into the air.
“Go, Tatsumi,” whispered a voice behind me. Her voice. Strained and exhausted, but unmistakable. “While he doesn’t know what is real and what isn’t. End this once and for all.”
I smiled. Drawing Kamigoroshi, I turned and sprinted into the madness, weaving through flames and duplicates of myself, toward the fox who thought he could become a god. In a desperate attempt to protect himself, the Ninetail covered his whole body in flames. Kitsune-bi roared, strands of lightning crawled over his fur, and the demonslayers closest to him frayed apart, charred in an instant.
“Seigetsu!”
The shout came from the trees, from the spot I had left moments ago. The Ninetail whirled, eyes wide and furious, finding the girl standing at the edge. She, too, glowed with foxfire, shining like a torch against the night as she faced the monster across the field of battle.
“Kiyomi-sama,” I heard her say, though she was far from me and the din around us should have been deafening. “We will avenge you today. For all the years you lost, let this bring you peace.”
The Ninetail’s muzzle curled back, jaws gaping as its throat glowed blindingly bright. It stepped forward, eyes blazing, as I leaped into the air, vaulted onto its shoulders, and slashed Kamigoroshi through the neck of the fox.
The kitsune staggered. For just a moment, it stood there, jaws open, staring at Yumeko. Then, the head toppled forward, leaving its neck in a spray of blood, as the massive fox swayed on its feet and collapsed. I hit the ground and rolled, suddenly too tired to spring to my feet, as the enormous creature spasmed and bled out on the stones. Its multiple tails writhed and beat the ground in a frantic, hypnotic pattern before they, too, finally stopped moving.
Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, grimacing as all the burns, bruises, cuts and lacerations I hadn’t let myself feel became loudly and painfully known. Around me, the army of demonslayers was fading, twisting into smoke and leaves that vanished on the wind. I took a deep breath, uncaring of the smoke and blood that filled my lungs, and breathed out slowly, warily letting myself believe the battle was over. That we, against a night of failure, death and catastrophe, had triumphed at last.
“Tatsumi!”
I looked up as Yumeko staggered toward me out of the smoke. Her face was covered in soot and grime, one sleeve was ripped, and blood streaked her arm and part of her robes. But her golden eyes shone with triumph and relief as she saw me and hurried forward.
I caught her as she threw herself into me, barely feeling the jolts of pain from the various hurts across my body. None of that mattered now. I was still standing, Yumeko was alive, and somehow, impossibly, we had killed the Ninetail with the power of a god.
“I can’t believe it,” Yumeko whispered. Her eyes were wide as she drew back, staring at the body of the huge fox. “We...we did it, Tatsumi. It’s really over.”
I nodded wearily. “Just one more thing to do,” I muttered. Stepping around Yumeko, I walked toward the dead Ninetail, still gripping Kamigoroshi in one hand. I felt the girl’s puzzled, worried gaze on my back, and heard her footsteps as she followed behind me.
“What do you mean?”
“The Fushi no Tama,” I said, setting my jaw for what came next. Yumeko still looked confused, and I gestured to the motionless Ninetail. “We killed its host, but the Dragon jewel is still on the body somewhere. We have to retrieve it, before...”
I fell silent, a cold knot forming in my stomach, as another Yumeko, dirty, torn and bleeding, walked around the Ninetail’s body and blinked at me.
For a heartbeat, my exhausted mind stuttered. Two Yumekos? Was one an illusion, leftover from the battle we’d just come through? But that made no sense; Yumeko would have dissolved the illusions now that the threat was gone. Why would there be two—?
“Tatsumi,” the second Yumeko whispered, her voice laced with relief. Right before her eyes widened in alarm and she opened her mouth to shout something.
Pain exploded through my chest, rocking me forward. Stunned, I glanced down to see a hand, bloody and tipped with sharp claws, emerging through my middle. For a moment, I could only stare, not comprehending what was happening. Then a quiet, familiar chuckle echoed in my ear, as tendrils of white smoke coiled around me from behind.
“That was an impressive battle, Hakaimono.” Seigetsu’s voice was a triumphant whisper in my ear. “Brilliantly executed, perfectly strategized. It would have worked, but you and the kitsune girl made one mistake. You forgot what you were fighting. I have seen every trick, every illusion. I knew what would happen before you even thought of it. I may be a god, but I will always be a fox.”
I couldn’t speak. My mind had gone blank, and something was clogging the back of my throat. I coughed, and felt warm liquid stream down my jaw and neck. Other sounds seemed to have faded, though I was vaguely aware of Yumeko running toward us, golden eyes wide with horror and anguish.
“Farewell, Hakaimono.” The Ninetail’s voice murmured behind me again. “Do not be angry—you could not have hoped to stand against a god. Still, you fought valiantly, and the gods cannot be without mercy.” I felt him lean closer, his mouth a few inches from my ear. “Perhaps I should change back?” he whispered. “Then you could at least die in the arms of your beloved.”
Yumeko.
Her face swam before me, smiling, cheerful, hopeful in the face of everything. I’m sorry, I thought, as my vision went blurry and something hot slid down my cheek. It was getting hard to breathe, and blackness crawled along the edge of my vision. No time left. This would be my final act. Forgive me, Yumeko. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to save you and everything you cared for. I’m so sorry. I won’
t...see the end with you, but... I will give you this one last thing.
“What say you, Hakaimono?” It was no longer Seigetsu’s voice whispering in my ear, but Yumeko’s. “The fight is done. Just close your eyes and let go. Listen to my voice, the voice of your kitsune, as you drift off into oblivion.”
I raised Kamigoroshi, flipped the blade around, and drove it into my chest, sinking it to the hilt. Behind me, Seigetsu jerked, letting out a startled, strangled gasp, and the world seemed to slow.
Something gripped my shoulder, fingers digging into my skin. I could feel the sword through my body like a strip of light, but I was beyond pain now. Images flickered through my consciousness, thoughts and feelings that weren’t mine. Memories that I had never made. A world that was younger, where kami and yokai roamed freely and without fear. A world free of war and hate, where everything knew its place and was content. Until the rise of the humans, with their armies and weapons and consuming appetites that were never sated. I saw image after image of destruction, forests burning, cities in flames, fields of bodies and blood and death. The memory of a woman, tall and beautiful, with long black hair and eyes the color of jade. A pair of children scampered around her, laughing. Only the images flickered like the beats of a moth wing, and sometimes the two boys were fox kits and the woman was a kitsune with bright green eyes. Another flash, and I saw a human with a pair of dogs at his feet lift a dead fox up by the tail, smiling grimly. Horror, grief, a burning all-consuming rage, and then nothing.
I blinked. The world around me blurred, then came into focus. I still held Kamigoroshi’s hilt to my chest, and could feel warmth spreading across my back, soaking through my haori. The weight behind me staggered, long fingers still digging into my shoulder, and a shudder went through us both.
“Damn you, Hakaimono.” The choked whisper rasped in my ear. “Is nothing sacred to you? Those memories weren’t for anyone else.”
I yanked the blade free, drawing it from us both in a spray of blood, and Seigetsu gasped. Numb, I half turned, watching the Ninetail stagger back, clutching his chest. Blood soaked the front of his white haori, staining his sleeves, his hair, even his multiple tails. Though the fire dancing on the ends had gone out, and the glow surrounding him had faded.
Something glimmered through the blood on his fingers, shining briefly like a firefly. Lowering his hand, the Ninetail stared down at the pearl in his bloody palm, watching the light flicker and die, and smiled in weary resignation.
“Congratulations, Hakaimono,” he murmured, as if we had just finished a long game of shogi. “Well played. It appears...the game is yours.”
Stiffly, he walked a few paces away, then lowered himself to sit against a boulder, as if he was just taking a break. Blood ran from one corner of his mouth, and he gave a shaky sigh, tilting his head back.
“How unkind destiny is,” he whispered, gazing up at the clouds. “A thousand years of planning, of calculating, of playing the game with no mistakes, to have my dream ruined by a demon and a girl.”
His hand dropped to his lap, the Dragon jewel glinting dully in his palm, as the Ninetail who would become a god lost his hold on immortality and didn’t move again.
Stumbling back a step, Kamigoroshi dropping limply from my hand, I swayed on my feet, then collapsed into the real Yumeko’s arms.
28
The Plane of Jigoku
Yumeko
“Tatsumi!”
I sank to my knees, cradling his head in my arms. He was drenched in blood; it soaked the front of his haori and streamed from the terrible wounds in his chest and stomach. Where he had plunged Kamigoroshi through his own body to impale Seigetsu, as well. Lying forgotten beside his hand, the sword flickered like a dying heartbeat, the faint purple light growing dimmer by the second.
“Tatsumi,” I whispered. Helplessly, my hand hovered over the bloody wounds, shaking. “Oh, Kami, what can I do? Tatsumi, open your eyes. Can you hear me?”
“Yumeko.” Tatsumi’s voice was a breath, a whisper. His eyes opened, bright and glistening, gazing up at me. “Gomen,” he murmured. “Forgive me, I don’t think...I’ll be coming back with you.”
I shook my head, unwilling to believe. “You’ll be okay,” I choked out, brushing the hair from his forehead. “You’re half-demon—you can heal yourself, can’t you? Like you did at the Steel Feather temple.”
Tatsumi coughed; flecks of red misted into the air as he shuddered, then slumped against me. “I have...nothing left, Yumeko,” he whispered, his voice unnaturally calm. “No tricks, or miracles to fall back on. The damage this time is too severe. This was...my last fight.” One hand curled around mine, a pained, weary smile spreading across his face. “At least, to use the Taiyo’s words, it was a glorious death, fighting a god.”
“No.” I curled over his body, my fingers tangled in his hair, his haori, anything to keep him from slipping away. “Please,” I whispered. “I can’t lose you. Not after everything.” Tears blinded me, streaming down my face to stain the front of his shirt. “It’s not fair,” I choked out. “We came so far. We stopped the Wish, killed the Harbinger, defeated the Master of Demons and Seigetsu. We’ve done everything that was asked of us. This can’t be how it ends.”
“Yumeko, listen to me...”
Shaking, I raised my head to meet his dimming gaze. One of his arms moved, just slightly, toward where Seigetsu slumped against the rock, a glimmering pearl in one bloody palm. “It’s not done yet,” Tatsumi said in a broken whisper. “The Fushi no Tama. You have to...take it back to the Dragon. Before dawn...before he fades away entirely. If you can return the jewel to the Harbinger...its power...might be able to revive him.”
The Dragon jewel. It had the power to grant immortality; to even bring the dead back to life. Filled with a sudden hope, I looked back at him, heart pounding. “The Fushi no Tama, Tatsumi, if you used it now—”
“No!” Tatsumi cut me off, gripping my hand. I winced at the horror in his voice as he shook his head. “I have...no desire to be a god,” he whispered. “You can’t use the Fushi no Tama’s power without taking the jewel for yourself. It becomes a part of you. That’s why Seigetsu was so eager to have it, and why he needed me to slay the Dragon—Kamigoroshi is the only thing that can kill an immortal. If you use the Fushi no Tama to save me, you would have to kill me to get it back.”
I slumped, the tiny flicker of hope swallowed by blackness, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind. For just a moment, a dark, unrecognizable part of me contemplated using the Fushi no Tama to save the demonslayer, regardless of consequence. But if I did that, I would be stealing from a god, taking what rightfully belonged to a Great Kami, and who could say what it would do to Tatsumi’s soul? Especially if the only way to remove the Fushi no Tama would be to carve it out of him. It wouldn’t be right. I couldn’t use the Dragon jewel to save the one I loved, even as I watched him fading away before my eyes.
“Is this really how it ends, Tatsumi?” I murmured, holding him as close as I dared. “After everything we’ve done, this can’t be what was destined for us.”
“Our time was always borrowed, Yumeko.” Tatsumi’s voice was gentle. His gaze flicked up to mine again, intense and almost pleading. “But you can...make this one thing right,” he whispered, his fingers tightening around my own. “One good thing...to come out of this night of failures. The world cannot lose a Great Kami. Revive the Dragon. You...are the only one who can now. Please.” He paused, bowing his head as if speaking was an effort. “Promise me you will.”
I remembered where the Dragon fell, in the center of the valley, his great body curled around the terrible pit to Jigoku. But now I was beyond fear. Beyond terror, anger, grief or determination, and all that remained was a hollow, bone-numbing emptiness. “I... I’ll try,” I told Tatsumi in a whisper. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get there, but I’ll give it everything I have.” All I have left. “I promise.
”
Tatsumi nodded. His body relaxed in my arms, a tired, peaceful expression crossing his face. “Don’t...mourn for me,” he whispered. Slowly, his hand rose, fingers brushing my cheek, tracing the tears on my skin. “We’ll meet again someday. No matter...where I end up, no matter how my appearance might change, even if I get pulled into Kamigoroshi and it takes me a thousand years... I’ll find my way back to you.”
I caught his hand, swallowing the tears in my throat, not wanting anything to block my final moments of Kage Tatsumi. Lowering my head, I kissed him, feeling his hand slide into my hair, sealing this memory into my soul for all time.
“I love you,” I whispered, our faces just a breath apart.
His gaze went very soft. “I have...never loved anything as I have you,” he breathed. “Thank you, Yumeko.”
Then the light in his eyes dimmed, and his head slumped forward, his body going limp in my arms. I gave a keening cry and hugged him to me, sobbing his name, as the wind shrieked around us and the storm raged on, uncaring of the passing of another soul.
A softly glowing sphere rose from Tatsumi’s chest, casting its own light into the darkness. I blinked away tears as it drifted over me. No, not one soul, but two, one bright and one crimson, merged together as they drifted into the air.
Beside Tatsumi’s limp hand, Kamigoroshi flared. I raised my head, watching as the blade glowed purple, its faint, ominous light washing over my face and Tatsumi’s body. I could sense a terrible pull from the sword, like a hole in a sake jug draining all its contents, and my stomach twisted in horror. Kamigoroshi was calling Hakaimono back.
For a moment, the souls in the air trembled, as if fighting the inevitable pull of the sword. The blade on the ground throbbed, a heartbeat that grew stronger with every pulse, and even the combined strength of the two souls could not prevent the will of the Godslayer. I could only watch, helpless, as the tangled oni and demonslayer were dragged ever closer to Kamigoroshi, and could do nothing to stop it.
