“That’s a lie,” Toshi exclaimed with some heat. “I didn’t destroy the map. That would have been stupid!”
He closed his mouth, realizing with horror he was the one who had spoken. His heart lurched in his breast. He cursed his loose tongue for making things worse and forced himself to stay still.
“Explain,” Asaka demanded.
He didn’t realize the command had been aimed at him until he heard no one else answer. Knowing he had nothing to lose, since he was already doomed, he clenched his hands and spoke. “I would have had nothing to gain by destroying the map. I don’t want to be here, but doing as you ask is the fastest way to leave. If I had destroyed it, it would have been like committing suicide. I want to go home, not die, especially not here.” He had gone too far again. Of that he was sure. He stared at the floor, shaking with despair.
“Likely excuse, Lord Asaka.” It was the steersman again. “This boy is nothing but trouble. Now that he has done the deed and realized its foolishness, he’s trying his best to find some way to save himself.”
A curt gesture from the samurai kept the steersman from saying more.
Silence followed—a silence too deep for Toshi’s taste. In it, he could hear the ocean waves as they split whitely against the sides of the ship. He could hear the crewmen’s oars as they rose and dipped into the dark water. He waited for his doom to fall, hoping against hope Asaka wouldn’t make him into one of them.
Time stretched to agonizing minutes. He stared at the deck, his thoughts turning to the missing map. He hadn’t taken the map. Everyone else had been a part of the ship for the past eight years. None of them would do it. None of them would risk being stuck there forever. It made no sense. If only Asaka had brought more than one map. If only there were another copy…
His eyes widened as he realized his stupidity. There was a copy of the map. It hadn’t been in his room, so there might be a chance it hadn’t been taken. He bowed to the floor on his hands and knees as he tried to get the samurai’s attention.
“Asaka-sama, Miko-san has a partial copy of the map. I had about finished it when she took it with her yesterday.” Nervously, he risked a glance in Asaka’s direction. Despite his fear, he could feel hope welling in his heart.
“Mitsuo-san, would you verify this?” Asaka asked.
Toshi saw the older samurai start on his way. He prayed, hoping fate would decide to be on his side. His hands became numb as he waited, but he didn’t dare move. Instead, he tried concentrating on the warm, comfortable feel of the silk lying against his skin.
He glanced to the side as he caught the faint sound of bells. His heart beat faster, hoping for redemption.
The sound of bells, however, came no closer.
He glanced to the side again as he heard the ladder creak from someone’s weight. Sending another prayer to all the gods and spirits he could think of, he held his breath waiting to hear of his salvation or doom.
“Here’s what was found, Lord.” The confident edge to Mitsuo’s voice brought him much needed hope.
He heard paper rustling and then nothing.
For what seemed like forever, he waited for Asaka to speak.
“Boy, get back to work.”
Though he had dared to expect those words, his impromptu release from death nevertheless made his vision swim. He swayed from relief. Bowing until his forehead came into contact with the cold floor, he then tried to rise to his feet. His knees protested immediately. The cold had locked them in place. He compelled them to work, ignoring the pain in his legs as he hobbled the rest of the way, having no wish to test Asaka’s patience any further.
To his relief, he found that Asaka was paying him no attention, but was instead staring out into the dark sea. He sighed once but then tensed again as he found Mitsuo standing before him. The old, bent figure bowed slightly and offered him the copy of the map. He returned the gesture.
Forcing his numb hands to move, he reached for the map only to find his fingers wouldn’t close around it.
In embarrassment and shock, he could only watch as the map fell from his unresponsive hand.
He started to bend to pick the map back up, but Mitsuo beat him to it. Not sure of what he might do, Toshi rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them so they would respond. Looking up, he found dark, empty sockets staring at him. A sudden bit of white momentarily flashed within their depths.
Looking away, he continued working on his hands until they would finally do as he bid them.
Without a word, he took the map, bowed low and rapidly went on to finish his interrupted task.
After he’d redone his measurements and calculations, he found the ship’s approximate location. He stood around nervously as time passed, but Asaka didn’t ask to see their position. He looked around, but no gaze met his except the antagonistic one of the steersman.
Working up his courage, he walked aft and bowed to the steersman. The latter didn’t return the gesture.
Ignoring the obvious insult, he calmly showed him their position on the map.
“You’ve gotten lucky again, boy,” the steersman quipped. “But, sooner or later it’s bound to run dry.”
After he spoke, Toshi felt himself dismissed. Bowing again, he said nothing and returned to the place where the basket and instruments sat and waited eagerly to be sent back to his cabin.
The order didn’t come. He shifted uneasily. He wanted to go back inside to cuddle in his warm blankets, to have tea and to share in Miko’s company. There was nothing out here that could bring him that kind of comfort. His brown gaze strayed toward Asaka looking for any signs of a dismissal. After several minutes of no change, he resigned himself to the fact they meant for him to stay.
Sitting down, he stared at the hardworking men rowing the ship through the ocean’s watery darkness. A chill made its way up his spine as he watched them rock back and forth with the tireless energy of the undead. Almost against his will, he picked out the one who’d frightened him so much before. His shoulders were hunched over, as if tense; and Toshi soon noticed that a number of others appeared that way, as well.
Time passed and nothing changed. Unlike the night before, the rowers didn’t sing but maintained a deathlike silence. A sense of tension permeated the air. He was sure it had something to do with the loss of the original map. If he hadn’t destroyed it, that meant it had to have been one of them.
“Boy.” He looked up in Asaka’s direction. “Take a reading.”
Nodding, he was relieved by the excuse for activity.
As soon as he’d calculated their position, he immediately walked over to show it to the steersman. The steersman stared at the map a lot longer than he’d ever done before. When he was through, he ignored the boy as if he didn’t exist. Toshi bowed and returned to sit by the basket. He felt the ship’s direction change slightly as he sat down.
He was asked to take several more readings during the long night. With only the sounds of the waves and oars to keep him company, he tried to amuse himself by memorizing the map. He ignored his stomach’s stubborn grumbling as lunchtime came and went.
A few hours before dawn, he caught himself nodding off from boredom. As he glanced around, trying to stay awake, it looked to him as if Asaka and his retainer hadn’t stirred all night through.
“Boy, a reading,” Asaka said.
Scrambling to his feet, he did as he’d been bid. After going through the process and showing his calculated position to the steersman, he sighed as he moved to sit down again.
“Boy.”
He stopped in mid-squat and glanced up to find the samurai staring in his direction. “Yes, Lord?”
“It is time for you to go below,” he said. “Mitsuo-san will accompany you and stand guard at your door.
There shall be no more mishaps.” The demon mask turned away with a flash of green.
He bowed, surprised but happy he would finally be able to go inside. Scooping up his basket, he rushed for the ladder.
T
houghts of food and warmth hurried his steps along as he reached the lower deck. He fervently hoped Miko would be waiting for him. He didn’t think he could stand more of the uncomfortable silence.
Rushing down the small hallway to his door, he took a deep breath before reaching to open it. As it swung forward, he heard the sound of rustling silk coming from within. With a surge of happy relief, he hurried inside.
Smiling, he bowed in Miko’s direction before rushing to his waiting blankets. In no time at all, he had built a cocoon of heavenly warmth.
Miko soon knelt before him, offering him a steaming cup of tea. He eagerly took it. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as the hot liquid made its warm way into his innards.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Miko had already lifted the small table and set it before him.
Silently, she traded his empty cup for a full bowl of rice.
With great relish, he scooped the rice into his waiting mouth, now and then using his chopsticks to reach over the table for a sliver of fish from a plate nearby. As soon as he’d finished with the rice, he traded the bowl for more tea. A relieved grin flickered on his face as he recalled how many times he’d thought he would never be doing something as mundane as eating after what had happened that evening, yet there he was.
As Miko handed him a second bowl of rice, his pace began to slow. Little by little, he took notice of Miko’s continued silence. He glanced at her off and on, trying to figure out what was wrong. As he did so, he noticed a stiffness to her posture that had never been there before. He suddenly realized he hadn’t escaped the silent tension from above after all. A piece of it was there with him.
His appetite dried up inside him. “Miko-san?”
The pale Noh mask turned to face him, its eye slits dark. “Yes, Toshi-kun?”
He hesitated, not sure of how or whether he should ask what he wanted to know. “I’m sorry I was so late. Asaka-sama decided he needed me until just a little while ago.”
She barely nodded as she served him more tea.
“There was some trouble early on,” he added.
Miko made no response. Her gaze remained averted from his.
“I thought I was going to die today.”
Still she said nothing, busying herself with cleaning an already immaculate table.
“Thank you for saving me.”
Miko looked up, a soft, blue flash momentarily lighting her eyes. “Toshi.” Her gaze shied from his. “You were never in any danger,” she said. “Lord Asaka knew of the copy of the map. By your own eagerness to copy it, you had already placed yourself above suspicion.”
He didn’t realize his mouth had dropped open as he stared at her in surprise. “But, if he knew, why did he wait? He did nothing until I remembered you had it.”
Her gaze locked with his. “I don’t know. Though I am sure Asaka-sama had his reasons for it.”
Miko returned to her previous silence. He felt more confused than before.
“The whole thing doesn’t add up, Miko-san,” he pressed. “Do you have someone else on board I don’t know about? Could he have stolen the map? Anything else just doesn’t make sense.”
Miko shook her head. “No, there’s no one,” she answered. “And you’re right, it doesn’t make sense.
Which means the unthinkable must be true.” As if she were struggling with a great weight, the geisha rose to her feet.
“Asaka-sama has assigned Mitsuo-san to guard my door.” He wasn’t sure why he told her this, but he could think of nothing else to say. Inside, he knew she was about to leave him, taking all she knew with her. She was his only source of information, and he wanted to know what could bother all these spirits so.
“He’s not doing that to hurt you, Toshi-kun,” she said. “He’s doing it to protect you. Our problems won’t be over now that it’s known there’s another copy of the map.” Miko didn’t look at him. After a moment she walked toward the door.
His throat grew dry as he watched her go. If he didn’t say or do something immediately, he would lose her.
“Miko-san, please,” he pleaded. “You’re the only one I can ask about this. There’s no one else here who even cares about me!” He saw her hesitate. He knew it would be now or never. “I beg you, Miko-san.”
“Toshi.” She stopped and turned to face him. “It isn’t easy to explain.” Her gaze avoided his. Her thin skeletal hands absently worked to straighten the hem of her kimono. “What happened this evening has made certain things very clear—too clear.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It has told us that at least one of us doesn’t want our mission to succeed, even if it strands all of us here forever.” Miko lowered her eyes. “It also told us our deaths may not have been the accident we’d thought, but rather an act of sabotage.”
He didn’t dare breathe, hearing the agony of the awful realization in her voice.
“Can you imagine what this means to the rest of us?” she asked. “Already, through our perhaps not-so-accidental failure, we have reached this wretched state and watched our clan be destroyed. Now, we learn one of us wants to do what we fear most and force us all to stay this way.” Her voice rose.
“That one of us is willing to lock us all into this mockery of life for the rest of eternity!”
He felt guilty pangs of misery as he listened to her barely restrained horror. He had always assumed, though he knew not why, that it hadn’t mattered to them to be as they were. For the first time, he wondered if they were as terrified of what they had become as he was of becoming one of them.
“Miko-san, I—”
He never got to finish what he might have said. At the sound of his voice, Miko bolted and left through the door. He was left alone with only the receding sound of ringing bells.
Chapter 8
Fog lay everywhere. Toshi felt as if he’d been swimming through it forever. How he’d gotten here, he couldn’t remember, yet he felt no fear. A sound caught his attention, and he turned to look up. It was the sound of ringing bells. He swam upwards toward the sound, up until his eyes fluttered open.
“—progressively worse. While he’s been awake, he’s been fine, but every time he’s slept it’s gotten harder and harder to wake him. Something has gone terribly wrong.”
Though he heard the words they meant nothing to him. The voice was familiar, though; and it was one that mattered.
“I wouldn’t have disturbed you, except I’m not sure what to do now. I’ve tried everything to wake him, and all has failed. Ietsugu, I am afraid for him.”
He turned his head toward the familiar voice. He still couldn’t make much sense of the words, but he could hear the worry in them.
“You were right in telling me. This was unforeseen.”
A questioning spark lit in his mind at the new voice. He’d heard it before, but at the same time he hadn’t.
His clouded gaze moved in the direction of the voices. Concentrating, he was able to get his vision to clear just enough to see.
Two figures stood together on the far side of the room. Miko was standing slightly closer to him than the other figure. He was almost sure that it was she—the woman had the wig with its silver bells, the bright yellow kimono. All he needed to make absolutely sure was to see her smiling mask. As if in answer to his wishes, the woman turned partially in his direction. In surprise, he realized it might not be her after all. His gaze hadn’t encountered the white mask he knew so well, but rather a fleshless profile. The skull’s empty eye sockets glowed softly with blue light. His still-struggling mind eventually realized it was Miko, but without her mask.
“I think what we have become is somehow affecting him,” she said. “This cold we cannot feel is trying to claim him for its own.”
The male figure became more prominent in his field of view. Neither one was looking toward him. He knew he should recognize the male skeleton with the glowing green eyes. “For him to come to harm was never my intention.”
Miko’s fleshless hand rose to touch the other�
�s arm. “I know. I’ve never doubted your intent. But this is not right. If we don’t help him in some way, somehow slow down what’s happening, we’ll lose him. And, with him, perhaps all hope we’ll ever be free.”
The man turned from her and stared at a blank wall. Toshi’s muddled mind continued to try and place him.
“You say he seems unaffected when he is awake?” the man asked.
“Yes, as far as I can tell.”
They both stood silent for a moment.
Toshi’s eyes started to close. With a small sigh he began sliding back into the foggy depths waiting for him.
“Perhaps—” His eyes flickered back open at the sudden excitement in the geisha’s voice. “Perhaps if he slept out in the open air rather than surrounded on all sides by the ship, the effect would be lessened. I know you have need of him at night, but perhaps the fact you would have to disrupt his sleep every once in a while would help as well.”
He saw the man nod in acknowledgment. His eyes opened a little more as he realized again there was something familiar about this person, that he should know him. Yet something about him wasn’t right.
“I believe you’re correct,” the man acknowledged. “We’ll try this. I will have Mitsuo-san watch him while on deck so we can be certain it’s working.”
“I’m sure it will, Asaka-sama. It has to,” Miko exclaimed. “Too many other things have gone wrong for us. Toshi is our last hope.” Her tone was heavy.
It was the samurai! His mind speeded up as it grappled with the concept. Entranced, he watched with some surprise as Miko turned away and the samurai tenderly placed his hands upon her shoulders.
“Beloved, I know this has been difficult, but we must persevere,” he told her. “We are bound by our duty, and do as we must. There is no longer a question of what might have been for any of us. All that is left are our feelings and striving for the achievement of our task for the honor and peace it will bring us.”
Miko withdrew her hands from her face and straightened her shoulders before turning back to face him.
Gloria Oliver Page 7
