Sword and Mirror

by Kate Grove

  Ciara tensed at the mention of her cousin.

  “How do you—?” She struggled to get free, but his grip only tightened. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and tasted blood. “How would you know her?”

  “How did you think you ended up in war-torn Japan? I thought you were smarter.”

  He started another monologue, but the pain in her shoulders wouldn’t let Ciara concentrate on anything else other than how to get out of this position. She started chanting. It was nonsense, because she hardly remembered anything from her childhood studies, but he didn’t have to know that. What mattered was that she had his attention. He leaned down to hear better. She murmured quietly and waited for him to get close enough.

  She was momentarily taken aback as her sight cleared a little bit and she saw a slightly pointed ear in front of her. But she didn’t let it distract her. Ciara took a deep breath and screamed in that ear with all her might, hitting all the high, painful notes.

  Her captor fell back, gripping his ears, and cried out in pain. Ciara immediately used the opportunity to get to her feet and ran away from him. She took a few wobbly steps and looked around. She was in a big room where even the walls were made of wood. She wiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of the fuzziness, but she could only clear her vision for a couple of seconds before it blurred together again. However, it was enough for her to spot a staircase leading up to a door.

  She stumbled over to the steps and gripped the railing. She could feel a gust of wind push against her back right before she was hauled to the other end of the room. She landed in a heap, with excruciating pain in her back. For a moment, she didn’t even dare breathe, in fear she had broken something and would make the pain worse. But her instincts prevailed, and she sighed. Her breathing was harsh, and she heard loud footsteps before she was kicked in the side.

  “Don’t. Ever.” He emphasized each word with a kick. “Do. That. Again.”

  Even coughing was painful when he was finished. She heard the metal hiss of a blade being unsheathed. Ciara closed her eyes and prayed for whatever gods listened to rescue her somehow. Her fingers twitched as she gathered her remaining energy and pushed off from the floor to roll away. The blade embedded into the wooden planks just where her head had been. She felt as if the entire universe was spinning, and she couldn’t get her bearings.

  Ciara kicked out blindly as she heard the man approach, and her feet connected with something. She used this moment to get on her knees. It was hard to manage with her balance off.

  Another kick landed on her stomach, and this time, she couldn’t fight the urge to throw up. It all happened too fast. She faintly heard the voice of disgust from her captor and shuffling as he moved away. She, too, wanted to get away. The smell was making her nauseous. Again. At least her head had stopped spinning and she could scramble away from that spot.

  She grimaced as she looked down on her once nice kimono. Now torn and bloodied, it had spots of vomit over it. She dry-heaved at the sight, desperately trying to fight her instincts.

  “Humans are disgusting,” she heard the man say. She glanced up to see a somewhat familiar face framed by loosened black hair. But the eyes… these eyes were ruby red, as if a demon had risen from the depths of hell.

  She didn’t believe in hell or heaven, but the sight before her caused her to tremble. Tremors ran through her body and settled in her hands.

  “Why are you doing this?” Ciara asked in a hoarse voice. She wiped the edge of her mouth with the back of her shaking hand. Why did he look so familiar? Where did she see him before?

  “I’m just a man making a place for myself in this crazy world,” he said.

  “Have you ever thought of doing that in a less messed-up manner?” Ciara couldn’t help but ask.

  “Hn.” He smirked at her. The red had seeped back to the edge of his eyes before it disappeared. Now that he looked more human, Ciara noticed his clothing was worn, but he exuded the presence of a powerful person.

  She blinked, and by the time she opened her eyes, he was only an inch away from her face. Ciara yelped, and he moved away with a grimace. She could’ve sworn she heard him muttering ‘stinky human’.

  “Then what are you?” she asked him instinctively. He was holding his nose as he glanced at her. Ciara was very aware of the blade in his other hand. “You speak as if you aren’t human.”

  “I am not!” he roared as he once again moved close. This time, he put his free hand next to her head, effectively trapping her against the wall behind her. His eyes were once again red as he glared at her. Ciara held his gaze, more afraid of letting him out of her sight than because of having the courage.

  “You tremble,” he said and leaned closer. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and took a deep breath. “You smell like fear. I like it.” He made a curious sound. Was he purring?

  It made Ciara want to run, but there was no escape. He leaned back, his irises still red. He brought the katana up to Ciara’s neck.

  “So you won’t help me. You don’t want to go home. You don’t want to save the other witch,” he summarized and, to emphasize his point, pushed the blade deeper into the tender flesh. Ciara felt a slight prickle in her neck. “Because you know, after I kill you here, I will go get her.”

  “You son of a—”

  “Choose your next words very carefully, woman,” he said.

  Ciara opted for a knee-jerk, but he avoided her meager attempt to attack. As soon as she thought she had some leeway, he leaned his whole body on her. She couldn’t move a muscle, and it was starting to get difficult to breathe. Ciara noticed blackness creeping in from the edge of her vision.

  “Is your answer still no?”

  Ciara couldn’t believe him. Was he so dense? Or was it that he wanted something so desperately that, even in this situation, he’d rather use her, no matter how small a chance for her cooperation. At that moment, the sounds of a fight came from above. They both looked toward the door at the top of the stairs.

  Ciara felt her heart hammer in her chest. Whoever that was, they could probably help her. She gathered all her remaining energy and screamed for help at the top of her lungs.

  Her captor stumbled away, gripping his ears. He even dropped his katana. Ciara’s legs gave way, and she slid down on the wall. She put a hand on her throat. It came away with blood on her fingertips.

  “Shit.”

  33

  Ciara’s scent gradually became stronger as Katsuo set off after her. He let go of the restriction he usually put on his senses, not caring if someone saw his true nature. Ciara was in danger, and he had to protect her. That was all he knew.

  He made his way to the darker side of town, mildly surprised as he hurried through narrow alleys and dodged bumping into suspicious people. He took care to pursue criminals and not to let his castle town be a meeting point for them, but it seemed darkness had a way of creeping into the happiest of places. Katsuo made a mental note to come back to this part of town and remedy the situation as soon as possible.

  But first he had to find Ciara. Her spicy vanilla scent got stronger and stronger and led him into a brothel. Another thing he had to evaluate later. He barged in without knocking, and the woman in the foyer shrieked at his entrance.

  “What happened, girls?” A middle-aged woman walked in through a side-door to investigate the situation. She was graceful and looked beautiful with all that makeup. Katsuo glared at her and she looked taken aback at the sight of him. She nervously whipped her fan open. “What brings you here, Milord? Would you like some of the girls to accompany you for tea?”

  “I’m looking for someone, Madame.”

  “We’ve plenty of girls, take your pick.”

  “A particular someone. She was kidnapped,” he clarified.

  “Oh, we don’t do that here! Everyone is here on their own terms, right, girls?” She looked around, wetting her lips nervously.

  “Have you seen a foreigner around here?”

  “A foreign
er?” The Madame’s eyes bugged out of her head. “What a particular taste in women, if I may say so!”

  Katsuo closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the sounds. Ciara’s scent was all over the place, mingled with incense and smoke twirling about the place. It was difficult to pinpoint the direction of the source.

  He heard a scuffle upstairs and almost headed there when he realized it wasn’t the sounds of struggle. He felt a headache coming. He hated brothels; all the scents and sounds made him feel sick.

  “Are you all right, Milord?” A brave girl, no older than sixteen, had moved close and put a gentle hand on his arm. He grabbed her and twirled her in front of him. She looked frightened by the sudden action.

  “Have you seen something suspicious before I arrived here?”

  She shook her head violently.

  “Anyone?” He turned around, looking at the girls one by one. They couldn’t stand his gaze.

  “Actually…” someone spoke up and he looked toward the girl. She was a little older than the others and even though she looked intimidated by his presence, she squared her shoulders and held his gaze when he looked at her.

  “What did you see?” Katsuo let go of the other girl and approached this one. She looked to be around the same age as Yura.

  “I was out back on my break,” she started. “And I saw a couple of men dragging an unconscious woman toward the cellars.”

  “Where?”

  “The backyard,” she pointed to the end of the corridor. “They were armed, and they had a leader. He was strange.”

  Katsuo was just about to start heading down on the corridor, but he glanced back at her at this.

  “Strange how?” he asked, puzzled.

  “He had a weird aura around him.”

  “Hush, stupid girl!” the Madame chided her. “I warned you not to talk nonsense here!”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s true,” she looked down, her cheeks red. She risked a glance at Katsuo. “Milord, he was the most dangerous out of all of them. He had a certain darkness surrounding him. You must believe me!”

  “Enough of this! I’m sorry, Milord, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” The Madame nudged the girl. “Stop this nonsense now and apologize!”

  “Thank you,” Katsuo told the girl, ignoring the other woman and hurried down the corridor.

  “Wait, Milord!” The Madame tried to stop him in vain. The girl was right. As soon as he opened the door to the backyard, Ciara’s scent grew stronger.

  There was a makeshift shed in the courtyard. It was the only thing that looked to be leading somewhere. As he walked closer, Katsuo unsheathed his katana, stopped right outside the wooden door, and pricked his ears. He could hear men inside laughing and telling dirty jokes.

  Not wasting more time, he kicked the door in. All three shot up from their seats on the barrels and drew their swords.

  “You must be insane to try to take on the three of us!” One of them taunted, making the others laugh.

  Katsuo smirked.

  “Try me.”

  A few minutes later, all three were sprawled on the floor, moaning in pain.

  “My daughter can fight better than you lot,” he said, not impressed with them. He didn’t even break a sweat.

  “Oh, can she do this, too?”

  Katsuo turned just in time to block the attack coming from behind. Clearly, these people had no idea who they were dealing with. Unfortunately, his attacker managed to make him drop his weapon and didn’t leave him a chance to recover it.

  He had to continue the fight barehanded. His new opponent was a better warrior and had probably had formal training as a soldier. He didn’t prove to be much of a challenge to Katsuo, however. Suddenly, he heard a scream from beneath and was reminded of the danger Ciara was in.

  This split moment was enough for his opponent to injure him. Katsuo jumped back and held up his right arm. The sleeve of his kimono was torn and a deep gash marred his forearm. Blood dripped steadily from the wound.

  He saw red.

  Instinctively, he grabbed his injured arm. His opponent charged, blade drawn, and Katsuo swiped at him with a blood-coated left hand. He felt a strange wind, then his opponent screamed as he was thrown back against the wall. He had claw marks over his face and body.

  Katsuo looked down at his hand. His fingernails had lengthened into claws, and he flexed them. He knew they could do damage, but this was new, even to him. Was it a technique inherent in his family? He had to use the rare chance that Yuki was here and ask her—

  Another scream tore through his musings, reminding him of his mission. He picked up his sword and turned around, facing the door leading downstairs, then kicked it in without hesitation.

  34

  Ciara’s scent filled the empty cellar below. It mingled with something nauseating, and it took only a fraction of a moment for Katsuo’s heightened senses to understand the situation. Ciara was huddled at the bottom of a wall, and the scent of her blood was lingering in the air, quickly overpowering his senses.

  The person who stood a few feet away from her turned around at the sound of the door breaking down. Katsuo froze in shock for a moment as recognition flickered in his eyes.

  “Juro?” he asked, barely audible. “Is that really you, Juro?”

  The man sent him a smirk.

  “You always knew how to make an entrance,” he said and hurled a small pouch at his feet. Smoke rose quickly in the closed space, covering the floor within seconds. Even though Katsuo was standing halfway down the stairs, above the cloud of smoke, he couldn’t see a thing. However, he could hear Ciara coughing violently on the other side of the room.

  He quickly dove into the gray cloud in search of Ciara, relying on his ears to find her. Meanwhile, he kept in mind that Juro was still around, hiding somewhere behind the smokescreen.

  Katsuo heard a swish and instinctively ducked. The blade had just narrowly missed his head. It had managed to cut his manbun in half, making his hair cascade around his face. Ciara coughed somewhere in front of him, urging him to reach her. A growl escaped him.

  Frustrated, he blindly swung his katana in the direction the attack had come from. His blade connected with another, and a metallic clang echoed, dispersing the smoky cloud a little bit. Katsuo twisted his sword to disarm his opponent; however, he didn’t succeed.

  “Are you sure you want to risk impaling your lovely bride?” a mocking, bodiless voice asked him. Katsuo threw the katana at his enemy, surprising him.

  An angry hiss answered his attempt at slaying him, but it bought him enough time to put some distance between them and reach Ciara. Her coughing had weakened considerably, which did not bode well for her condition.

  Katsuo heard a squelching sound under his boots but ignored it. He could hear hurrying footsteps going upstairs, but it was more important to save Ciara than to chase after that traitor. She was more important.

  He stumbled, but thankfully, the wall stopped him. A painful moan sounded from near his feet.

  “Ciara!” He squatted down immediately, feeling around blindly. The smoke had barely cleared. He could just about make out the silhouette of her form.

  She coughed. “Katsuo?” Her voice was hoarse and weak.

  “I’m here.” He reached out to hold her up. Her arms immediately went around his shoulders, and she buried her face in the nook of his neck. She coughed a little bit. “Come on,” he said and gathered her in his arms, ignoring his injury.

  He barely registered her weight as he carried her toward the stairs with confident steps. The enemy had already fled, and he was able to see a bit more with every passing second. He could make out the shape of the stairs and quickly climbed them, taking three steps at a time.

  As soon as they made it outside, they both sighed in relief. Ciara leaned back and looked at him.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re not out of danger yet,” Katsuo said, concern lacing his voice.

  Ciara focused on his face. W
as it a trick of the setting sunlight or were his eyes of the same gold color as Lady Yuki’s?

  “Have your eyes always been this color?” she asked, mesmerized. She closed her eyes.

  “Ciara, stay with me!” Katsuo shouted as she went limp in his arms.

  He spied a gate at the back of the courtyard and hurried over, firmly holding onto Ciara’s unconscious form. A restless energy bubbled within him as he navigated through the darkened streets. Night had just fallen, and he was grateful for the darkness. Gathering all his strength, he jumped high in the air. He landed on top of a hut. Momentum made him skip over to another rooftop, then another, until he had reached the last building in town. He climbed the way up to the castle hill in the same manner.

  Time was of essence if he were to save Ciara. He was acutely aware of her fading pulse and the despair spreading in his stomach. He reached the castle in record time.

  “Halt! Who goes there?!” his soldiers at the gates asked.

  “Get a healer!” he yelled, and they recognized his voice right away.

  “Aye, sir!” One of them turned to go but was interrupted by a new voice.

  “No need. He is already here,” Taiki said as he stepped out of the shadows. “He is waiting for you in the conference room.”

  Without saying another word, Katsuo headed in that direction.

  “Would you like me assist you, my lord?”

  “No need.”

  Katsuo didn’t even chide him for using his title instead of his name. He couldn’t care for anything else at that moment but Ciara’s safety.

  Ciara struggled to open her heavy eyelids. When she managed to do it, all she saw was a ceiling. She blinked a couple of times, and it got easier to keep her eyes open. It was difficult to breathe, though. Every breath she took required effort. Her limbs ached, but at least her hands didn’t tremble. She sighed, and a coughing fit racked her body.