Blood Goblet

by J. P. Rice

  The men laughed again until Okumura turned around, scolding them with a mere look. Like school children, the men’s faces turned red and they shut up.

  Okumura said something else in Japanese and rubbed his thumb against his fingers. He was ready to talk turkey. Nice.

  I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the fat stack of hundreds. Two-grand. I counted the twenty bills for Okumura and waited for a reaction. Everything he did seemed like it was in slow motion.

  The stoic, stone-faced old man turned over his right shoulder and shouted something in Japanese. One of the younger men ran up to his side. He stared at the money in my hand and shouted something back to Okumura.

  Okumura squinted at my extended handful of cash for so long that my arm started to get tired. In a slow, deliberate motion, Okumura reached forward and clutched the cash. I let go and we had a deal. We had the slowest guide in the history of the world, but we had one that could get us to Shuten dōji’s castle.

  We stepped out into the frosty air and I wrapped my black and gold scarf around my neck. I tugged down on the earflaps of the old school winter cap that had Steelers Polka stitched in cursive across the forehead. I was wearing black winter overalls and a hunter green Carhartt jacket. My big hiking backpack was full of M.R.E.s (meals ready to eat) and my protection suit. I knew a bunch of doomsday preppers around Pittsburgh and tapped one of them for the food.

  Felix had been unable to get the food and water pills that we had used in Sleepy Willow. The mage was wrapped in designer gear, all white, and walked like a mummy. Only a slit for his eyes in the ski mask was subject to the elements. He was carrying a red backpack and I wasn’t sure what he had inside.

  I assumed it was huge bottles of hair gel, designer hand moisturizer and other assorted beauty products. Maybe an industrial sized hairdryer like the Druish Princess from Spaceballs. The important stuff.

  I’d chewed out the mage on the trip to get to Japan. I’d wanted to know why Glenda had rescued me from the Purple House while he sat on his ass. He’d apologized profusely, swearing that he was about to bust me out, but Glenda had beaten him to the punch. I wasn’t sure if I believed his excuse.

  Glenda wore an unbuttoned, old army-green jacket with an orange turtleneck underneath, black jeans and an old pair of black boots. She carried a huge backpack full of Old Crow whiskey bottles, clothes and a couple of cartons of Newport cigarettes. She’d hit the duty-free shop hard at the airport.

  As for Okumura, the crazy old man was only wearing jade-colored silk robes that didn’t cover his arms and only came down to his knees. He had sandals on his feet, but I’d checked them out when he was putting them on back at the lodge. The soles were fashioned like snowshoes with a cross hatched pattern for better traction.

  With that said, I had no idea how he wasn’t freezing. The old man was shaking, but not more than he had been back inside the toasty lodge. We hiked along the perimeter of Mount Oe for what seemed like hours. As for distance, with the snail’s pace being set by Okumura, who knew how far we’d traveled.

  I thought about the trip to get here. We’d flown into Osaka and had to take four trains to get to Oeyamaguchi-Naiku. From there, we’d taken a taxi to the lodge of hiking guides. My back was killing me from all the travel.

  I wondered how we were going to keep Okumura away from the action. He didn’t seem to have magic powers and wouldn’t last long in a brawl with a supernatural legend. I didn’t want him to get caught up in the mix and get hurt or worse. It wouldn’t be fair to the man. But then again, if he’d been there before, he knew how to remain safe.

  We kept passing signs written in Japanese, but our trusty guide didn’t even bat an eye at them. He seemed to know the way by the land as his head looked down the entire time, bobbing up and down with each step. Without warning, Okumura hooked a sharp left and started up Mount Oe. Finally, we’d started the ascent.

  The snow crunched under my new boots, which were already causing me blisters. I leaned forward to support the weight on my back and followed Okumura. Slowly.

  We hiked for what seemed like an hour and hit the first plateau of the mountain. Okumura held up his index finger and sat down in the snow. He bent his leg so that the sole of his shoe was right in front of his face. The ancient man dug into his robe and pulled out a piece of bamboo that resembled a chopstick. Using the small bamboo rod, he pried the icy buildup out of his special soles.

  “Does anyone know how close we are?” Glenda asked, slipping a bottle of Old Crow out of her backpack.

  I said, “He does. But that doesn’t really help us right now. It’s not a huge mountain from what I read.”

  Felix unzipped his jacket and pulled out his vape pen. “That depends on if we go straight up the mountain, or if we walk at an angle that will increase the distance.” He kneeled down and hit his pen.

  “Let’s just hope...” I stopped when a snoring sound filled my ears. No. Couldn’t be.

  I turned my head toward the buzzing sound. Okumura was already sleeping, head slumped down, with the chopstick still jammed into one of the squares on the bottom of his shoe. His head would rise as he inhaled and sink back down as he exhaled, until his chin met his chest.

  How had he fallen asleep that easily? “Should we wake him up? Felix, do you understand anything he is saying?”

  Felix stared at Okumura. The mage stood back up, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. “Not really. I think he said that we need to go to three different plateaus and the castle is on top of the third one. I could be wrong though.”

  That rang a bell in my head. “No. I was studying up on the mountain and that sounds right. It didn’t say anything about the vanishing slope on the third ascent though. It did say that people think this place is full of oni, or demons.”

  Felix said, “Yokai are the supernatural monsters of Japan. Oni are ogres and a type of yokai. That might explain why we haven’t seen a single soul out here since we left the lodge.”

  “I read that this is the offseason.” Glenda added and guzzled some more Old Crow. “Most people come from April to October or November. They stay away from it this time of year.”

  Glenda slid her right shoulder out of the backpack and tugged on the zipper. “If he’s going to take a fucking nap, I’m going to have a smoke.” She put away a fifth of Old Crow, then slid it back out and swigged a healthy taste of the liquor. “Aaahhh. That’s the good shit.” She pulled a pack of Newports out of her breast pocket and lit up a smoke.

  I was a little cold, but I should have felt colder. There was a strange underlying heat, right below the frigid surface. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I could feel it in the air. I turned back to the snoozer, who wasn’t snoring anymore. In fact, he was perfectly still.

  Oh, shit. Was he dead? I moved in closer and stuck my finger under his nose. Nothing. As I went to pull my finger away, I felt the tiniest wisp of air ruffle the hair near my knuckle. Hooo.

  Placing my hand on his shoulder, which felt hard as a rock, I shook him lightly. Nothing. I jabbed his collarbone with the bottom of my palm, aiming for a gentle wake up. Nothing. I shook harder, but the old man just snorted, and went back to napping again.

  Frustration started to set in and I hit his collarbone harder. In a single motion, faster than lightning, Okumura’s eyes flashed open, and from an awkward seated position, he sprang up, firmly landing on his feet with his arms extended, prepared to defend against an attack.

  His neck jerked around in all directions, scanning the area for intruders. I held my open hands up defensively, hoping that he hadn’t forgotten who we were during his slumber. The old man yawned, pointed up the hill, said something in Japanese and continued as if he had never fallen asleep.

  About twenty minutes later, we hit another plateau. But this one wasn’t covered by woods. I walked along the outside of the rocky trail and could see all the snow-capped mountains of the Kyoto Prefecture and some of the peaks of the Hyogo Prefecture. Even with the rolling clou
ds hiding some of the amazing details, it was breathtaking.

  The sun had melted into the horizon, leaving a pink and orange skyline outlining the mountains. The clouds looked like marshmallows against the orange backdrop that replicated the flames of a fire. I took a deep breath and the air felt thinner as it buzzed around my lungs and exited through my mouth, leaving a trail of steam.

  The closest partially snow-capped mountain had a bright reddish glow around the peak that faded in intensity as it went down the mountain. Okumura wasn’t enamored with the scenery and continued back toward the forest area. We dipped into a wooded area that flattened out before encountering a steep incline.

  We climbed up to another clearing that straightened out. Whoa! I stared out at the Japan Sea and the mountain closest to us that looked like an inverted cooking pot. The rolling clouds mingled momentarily with the mountain peaks and then drifted out to sea.

  Okumura powered ahead toward the next forested area, leaving no time for sightseeing. He walked toward a set of moss covered stairs that had been swept clean of snow. I welcomed the stairs to help with traction, but was disappointed to find the mountain had another dip ahead.

  Traveling back down into the saddle, I was surprised to find an open area with a lodge and outhouses as well as a running spring. Okumura pointed at the small wooden lodge and said something in Japanese. We followed him up to the door and waited for the old man to open it.

  The door creaked as Okumura turned the knob and leaned into it with his shoulder. A musty smell raced out of the opening and hit me in the face. It wasn’t a terrible, decrepit odor, more like and old building that hadn’t been aired out in a while.

  We entered the small lodge and there wasn’t much to it. The walls and floor were made out of light brown wood that had never been painted or treated with stain. There were some picnic tables that had been pushed into the corner of the room and stacked on top of each other. Off to my left, there was a pile of blankets and pillows.

  Scanning the room again, that appeared to be about it. I assumed this was a safe house and rest stop.

  Okumura muttered something as he picked through the blankets and pillows.

  “I think he said that we are going to stay here tonight and continue in the morning,” Felix tried to translate.

  I swung my backpack down from my shoulder. “I guess it could be worse. We could have to sleep outside.”

  I heard glass bottles clanging together and turned to see Glenda pulling a bottle of Old Crow out of her backpack. She chugged a healthy portion and passed the bottle to Felix.

  The mage held his hand up, “I’m good. Thanks.” He pulled out his vape pen and took a hit.

  She looked at me momentarily, and said, “I know not to offer you any of the good stuff, what about you?” She extended the bottle to Okumura.

  Our fearless guide slowly stretched out his hand and wrapped his fingers around the Old Crow label. He opened the bottle and took a sniff. The corners of his mouth curled up, forming a guilty smile. He nodded his head, said something in Japanese and took a huge gulp.

  The same guilty smile formed again. Okumura bowed and handed the bottle back to Glenda. As we settled in, I found myself the odd man out. The other three were getting hammered and smoking, which really tested me. I wanted a fuckin’ drink of whiskey.

  I kept inching away from the group but they would drunkenly pull me back into the conversation. Mercifully, everyone passed out and I soon followed.

  THE NEXT MORNING, WE got ready to head back out into the wild.

  Okumura put his fingers on his temple and stretched out his neck. Glenda guzzled the last ten ounces of Old Crow in the bottle and set it down on the table. She smiled, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and said, “Let’s ride.”

  Felix was not a morning person even after drinking a 5-hour Energy. He had yawned at least a hundred times already and he’d only been awake for fifteen minutes. We were waiting on him to get fully suited so we could get a move on. He finally put the ski mask over his face and stretched out the slot for his eyes.

  I opened the door and held it for everyone. As I stepped outside, an instant chill hit me. It was colder than yesterday. I contrasted the moment by thinking about how warm the mountains in West Virginia had been.

  Why wasn’t Okumura even shivering? His robe and sandals couldn’t be keeping him warm unless they were enchanted with magical powers. Despite the strange wardrobe choice, he leaned forward with a smile on his face and started up the incline.

  We hiked for about a half hour until we came to an area that leveled off. Straight land continued for a hundred feet and we encountered another hill that looked exactly the same as the one we had just conquered.

  With Okumura slowly leading the way, we came to another level area of land. We repeated this process several times and the surroundings appeared the same each and every time. As we walked up another incline for the seventh time, I started to appreciate the name Vanishing Slope.

  When we reached the top of the ascent after the seventh time, the surroundings looked different. Instead of a clearing, the area was covered by woods and I could hear, but not see, running water. A path fashioned from pink cobblestone appeared in front of us.

  Okumura followed the trail that wound through the woods like a slithering snake. The smell of decaying bodies hit my nostrils and I tucked my nose into my jacket. It was similar to the stench from the pile of corpses I’d encountered in the cage of the Sphinx. This stink was a bit more pungent and had several funky layers to it though.

  The cobblestones gave way to a stone staircase that led straight up to a black castle. I felt evil spirits in the air. It was apparent that a lot of people had lost their lives around here and I didn’t want to be next.

  Okumura didn’t say a word as he climbed up the steps and headed for the castle as if he were an invited guest. I drew my magic to the surface, not sure of what to expect. “Felix, he is taking us back, right? This isn’t just a drop off, is it?”

  “No,” Felix said, and my heart dropped. “He’ll wait with us and take us back. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what he said last night. I was pretty hammered though.” That clarification made me feel a touch better.

  Now I knew why the Gods didn’t want me drinking. They knew that I would assemble a group of boozers.

  We came to the top step and encountered a portcullis. Okumura walked over to a wooden hand crank on the side of the top step.

  He took a few deep breaths and started cranking away. The portcullis creaked along with the sounds of straining ropes, and as Okumura rotated his hand, the castle entrance started lifting slowly. The portcullis moaned and wailed as if it hadn’t been opened in a hundred years.

  Okumura was as strong as a fucking ox and he kept cranking the door to get into the castle. He raised it high enough for us to slide under and stopped. As we entered the castle, the putrid stench intensified. We walked up to the arched entrance door that had to be fifteen feet tall.

  Okumura grabbed a ring attached to the door and tried to pull it, but it wouldn’t budge. He stopped and signaled for us to pull him when he grabbed onto the metal ring. At least, I thought that was what he wanted. Okumura got into position and I moved in behind him.

  I hooked my arms around his midsection and then Glenda did the same to me, and then Felix got behind her. We probably looked like the Three Stooges, not some magical bad asses.

  Okumura shouted something that I assumed meant it was Go Time. I yanked on him and felt a tug from Glenda. The stubborn door dragged along the stone ground, screeching annoyingly the entire time.

  We kept pulling, and the teamwork paid off as the door slid open just enough for us to sneak in. My arm rubbed against the wall as I squeezed through the opening and I disappeared into complete darkness. Nothing like being in the castle of a legendary demon without any light.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up straight and an unnerving tingle ran down my spine. Enough of this nonsense.
I drew a fireball into my hand and lit up the surrounding area. I found a torch sticking out of the wall and pulled it out. Using the fireball, I lit the torch.

  As my neck jerked around, I saw Glenda and Felix, but Okumura was nowhere in sight. I spun around a few times but couldn’t find him. How had he disappeared without even a peep?

  A monstrous roar echoed off the castle walls, followed by a loud crashing sound. I cocked my arm back with the fireball ready to go. A minute of complete silence passed as we stood completely still. The strange sounds had ceased almost as abruptly as they had started.

  Through the torchlight, I made eye contact with Felix, and then Glenda. Neither instilled much hope in me. “What should we do? Wait for Okumura?”

  Glenda mumbled, “After that sound, I got a bad feeling he’s not coming back.”

  “But how?” Felix asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “He was standing right next to us. Wouldn’t we have heard something? Anything?”

  “Maybe Shuten dōji is a silent assassin,” I suggested.

  “So what should we do?” Glenda asked.

  I said, “Everyone should have their artillery ready to go. Maybe we should walk around the castle. There’s no way this guy can take all three of us. Right?”

  A few moments of silence drained my confidence until Glenda said, “Let’s find some more torches before we go running around the castle in the dark. I guess we’re in the main hallway near the entrance.”

  My right hand guided the flames near the wall to find more torches. Taking eight more steps, I found a wooden torch in a cast iron holder that had been fastened to the wall. I twisted and pried the torch out of the holder and handed it to Glenda.

  She placed the balled-up fabric at the top against the flames coming from my torch. She twisted her wrist, moving the white fabric around. The stubborn thing didn’t want to light, but Glenda kept the torch steady as the ball of fabric blackened.

  A small dash of fire jumped from my torch to hers. The black fabric took on a red glow and a snap of the fingers later, it took to the flame. We walked another twenty feet and found another torch. I handed this one to Felix and we repeated the lighting process again.