by Sarah Ash
I was so terrified I thought I would die with fright…
***
“Is the Flood Dragon angry?” Little Kai reaches for Lord Morimitsu’s trailing sleeve and holds on tightly. The monks have lit lamps in the recesses carved out of the rock, and as they go deeper into the cave down the winding stone stair, Kai sees monstrous nightmare images painted on the walls. The Tide Dragons loom overhead, sea-blue Flood and foam-white Ebb, their staring eyes glinting hungrily, their claws outstretched as if to grab him and drag him beneath the waves. He shrinks closer to his father.
“Don’t be afraid, Kaito-kun,” says his father softly. But Kai can hardly hear his voice above the sound of the waves slapping against the cave walls. The air is cold and damp and the bitter smell of brine fills his nostrils.
“Are we going to the Tide Dragons’ palace below the sea?” he asks. His nurse, Umeko, has told him tales of fishermen and pearl divers who strayed into the jewel-encrusted palace beneath the waves, and emerged the next day, laden with treasures, to find that a hundred years had passed on land.
I don’t want to age a hundred years in one night.
The sound of deep voices chanting rises from below. At the foot of the steps Kai sees white-robed monks waiting to greet them. He stops, hiding behind his father.
“This is for the honor of our clan, the Black Cranes,” his father whispers to him. “Be brave – and you will be blessed by Prince Shiomitsu, the Lord of the Flood. Just as I was, when I was your age.”
Kai hesitates. “I don’t want to,” he whispers back under his breath.
“Come, Lord Kaito.” Two of the monks bow to him and take him by the hand to the water’s edge. Each fresh surge of the incoming waves fills the cave with its salty tang. “It will soon be high tide.”
“Prince Shiomitsu, Lord of the Flood,” he hears his father’s voice resounding in the rocky chamber, “I present my son, Kaito, to you as my successor. If he is acceptable in my place as Sacrifice and Guardian I ask you to give us a sign.”
Kai feels a sudden, choking sense of terror overwhelm him. Something is coming. He stares at the cloudy water, transfixed. Something big. Powerful. He wants to run away but the monks are gripping his hands too firmly. His body has turned chill and cold; he’s shaking. A Black Crane shouldn’t tremble with fear. A Black Crane stays calm, even in the face of danger. But when he turns to gaze up at his father for reassurance, he sees that a glint of fiery sapphire has illumined Lord Morimitsu’s dark eyes; he looks more like a yōkai than a man.
“F - father?” Kai shrinks away from the daemonic face.
The incoming sea begins to churn and heave as if some natural force deep beneath has awoken and is powering its way toward the surface.
A vast creature rears up out of the water, white foam and dark seawater cascading from it. Directly in front of Kai is a sinuous, snake-like body, shimmering with translucent scales as blue as slithers of sapphire. Eyes that burn with a fierce flame stare down at him from a great whiskered snout with wild-flaring nostrils.
Kai stares. His throat is dry. He cannot cry out. He cannot move. The Flood Dragon’s gaze sears into his soul.
After what seems an eternity, the dragon slowly lowers his head, the sinuous neck curving gracefully, almost as if bowing to Kai.
“Go to him, Kaito,” murmurs Lord Morimitsu. The monks let go of his hands and he senses his father gently nudging him forward. He ventures a little closer and dares to stretch out tentative fingers to touch the blue-scaled snout, above the flaring nostrils. The jeweled scales are cold and hard beneath his fingertips.
“Don’t be afraid, Kaito.” A deep-timbred voice echoes through his mind. Surprised, Kaito almost snatches his hand away – but there is something so achingly sad and gentle about Shiomitsu’s words that instead he strokes the chill muzzle as if the great Tide Dragon were one of his father’s hunting dogs. “Perhaps you will be the one to set me free at last…”
“Free?” Kai echoes, not understanding. But Shiomitsu turns his horned head to stare at his father,
“I accept your son in your place, Morimitsu. When the seal is inked in your son’s skin, our pact will be at an end.”
Shiomitsu draws one sharp talon across the inner, softer skin of one scaly limb. A single drop of blue blood drops onto Kai’s forehead.
Kai’s father drops to his knees beside Kai on the wet rocks and bows. “Thank you for protecting us, Prince Shiomitsu. Thank you for honoring my clan with your patronage.”
“Honoring?” To Kai’s surprise Shiomitsu gives a strange, dry laugh that sets his skin crawling. “Is that what the imperial family calls it?” And with that he plunges below the waves; the last Kai sees of him is a fast-moving streak of translucence as his shimmering body snakes away through the dark water toward the cave entrance,
“The tide is already on the turn,” warns one of the monks. “We must work fast to complete the pact before Ebb arrives. Come, Lord Kaito.”
Kai obediently lets the monks lead him to a torchlit rock slab; they lift him and place him on top.
“Lie back,” orders an elderly monk, his face wrinkled like a walnut shell, rolling the loose sleeve back from Kai’s left arm. “Now you must stay very still as we put the mark of Prince Shiomitsu on you - even if it hurts.”
Another monk holds Kai’s wrist tightly as the old man begins to pierce the tender skin on the underside of his wrist with his bamboo needles. Both start to chant in deep voices that sound like the buzzing of bees. At first Kai can bear the pain, but as the elderly monk continues to work the smarting begins to feel as if his arm is on fire. He squirms on the cold rock slab, biting his lip, but the other monk only holds him down more firmly.
“It hurts,” Kai hears himself whisper.
“Be brave, Kaito-kun.” The sea-blue flames still burn in his father’s eyes as he stands watching.
But Kai has been brave for long enough. He feels tears welling up as the tattooist injects colored inks into his skin; the pain is becoming unbearable.
“Watch my face.” The blue light slowly fades from his father’s eyes. “What do you see?”
“Your eyes,” Kai is unable to hold back the tears any longer. “The scary light…it’s gone.”
“Then the ceremony is at an end.” His father helps Kai to sit up and points to the underside of his wrist, which is still burning with the fiery inks. “Look, Kaito; now you bear the seal of Prince Shiomitsu in my stead.”
Kai stares. A tiny blue dragon, curled in a circle, glows on his pale skin; in the centre of the circle the emblem of a flame flickers, like a sliver of molten sapphire.
It’s so beautiful – and so exquisitely painful – that a great heaving sob breaks from him.
“That’s enough for today,” his father says gently and lifts him off the rock slab.
“Who’s that cry-baby making so much fuss over a little tattoo?” A child’s voice, clear and scornful, rings out in the hollow cave. Kai stiffens, even more ashamed, wiping the tears and snot from his face on his sleeve.
Carried up the long stairs in his father’s arms, he sees another boy coming down, walking beside a tall, hawk-nosed lord who stares at his father with undisguised hostility…
***
That must have been the first time I ever saw Lord Naoki…and the last until he broke into the temple to steal the jewels.
The seal on Kai’s wrist was throbbing so vividly that he found it hard to think of anything else. In the gloom of the sacred cave it glowed so brightly it might have been lit by a ghostly phosphorescence.
And now I have to pay the price for his crime.
“Kaito.” The voice rolled around the echoing cave like the roar of breakers on the shingle in a winter storm. Kai swallowed hard, trying to dispel the knot of apprehension tightening around his throat, and came down the last of the stone steps to find high tide lapping at his feet.
A man stood at the water’s edge, his hair a shimmering waterfall of iridescent shades of aquamarine
and sea-green. He turned to face Kai and the intense blue of his eyes gleamed in the darkness, lit by a fiery shimmer of flame that burned behind the dark reptilian slits where the pupil should have been.
Gazing back in bewilderment, Kai managed to stammer out, “Who – who are you?” The flute dropped from his shaking hands, rolling away over the rocky floor of the cavern.
“My name is Shiomitsu.”
“Shiomitsu-sama? B - but you’re a dragon.”
The prince inclined his head in a silent gesture of assent. “I can only take human form at high tide. No one on shore has seen me as you see me now for years beyond living memory. Everyone I knew is long dead.”
Long dead? Kai did not understand. Surely dragons lived for many hundreds of years? They were revered as creatures of great wisdom because of their longevity.
“You must tell no one of our meeting. This is just between you – my Sacrifice – and me.”
Kai dropped to his knees on the rocks. “Have you come to punish me?” he whispered. “I failed you. I failed to protect the Tide Jewels.” He waited, head bowed, for the Flood Dragon to strike him down.
“Kaito,” said Shiomitsu in a dark, intimate tone, “your clan has served me faithfully since the First Empress’s reign. I haven’t come here to punish you. You are far too valuable to me.”
“Me? Valuable?” Kai felt strong hands gripping his shoulders, gently raising him to his feet. Shiomitsu’s eyes burned so intensely that he felt as if their blue brilliance was searing to the very core of his being. As he stood there mesmerized Shiomitsu lowered his head, enveloping him in his waterfall of hair, and pressed his lips to his forehead.
… waves rise to submerge him, he is drowning in a strong storm surge, falling down, far down into a fathomless sea of clear azure blue…
“Little Crane,” Kai heard Shiomitsu saying as if from far away, “that tune you were playing tonight… play it again for me.”
“‘Three Cranes on the Shore’?” Kai said dazedly. “Our old clan song?”
“It’s been so long since I heard it.” Shiomitsu stooped to pick up Kai’s flute and handed it to him. Still under the Tide Dragon’s spell, Kai slowly lifted the flute to his lips, drew in a breath, and began to play.
Strange, haunting birdcalls penetrate his dazed consciousness. As he surfaces from the blue water he can just make out a mist-shrouded strand where three figures are weaving in and out in an intricate dance. As the sea mist melts away, he sees that they are black cranes, wings stretched wide, long, slender necks extended, as they twirl and dip and bow at the edge of the lapping tide.
The image of the dancing cranes wavers and blurs as he watches and, blinking, he sees three human figures in their place on the empty shore. Two men, a woman standing, caught between them.
One man, in scarlet lacquered armor, reaches out and grasps her hand, roughly pulling her to his side. She gazes back over her shoulder at the other, her tear-stained face contorted with anguish and longing. Her mouth opens to call out to him but all Kai can hear is the keening cries of the black cranes as the sea mist rolls in once more to veil them from his view…
Kai came to the end of the song, with the cranes’ sad, strident calls still echoing in his ears. To his surprise, he saw Shiomitsu lift one hand to wipe away tears that had dulled the wild brightness of his eyes to a faint glimmer.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“Who were they? The two men…and the woman?” Kai asked but Shiomitsu turned away and began to walk toward the sea. “Are they linked to my clan?” Had Shiomitsu shown him memories of his own past? Ever since the Flood Dragon had kissed his forehead, his mind had been swimming with confusing, disturbing images.
“The tide is already on the turn; I must go back.” Even as Shiomitsu spoke, Kai noticed with alarm that the hand he had raised to wipe his eyes was changing, the fingers lengthening, the nails thickening and curving into talons.
“Please wait, my lord! What would happen if the king of Khoryeo got hold of the Tide Jewels? Could he use them against us? Could he force you to attack Cipangu?”
Shiomitsu turned and Kai saw that his face was altering too, dragon horns pushing up through his shimmering hair, his nose lengthening, nostrils flaring. He reached out and lightly placed one claw over Kai’s lips to stop his questions, leaving a bitter taste of sea salt behind. “I will protect you,” he said. “I will come if you call me, Kaito.”
“Call you? But how?”
“Wait.” Shiomitsu turned and Kai saw him plunge into the ebbing tide. Utterly bemused by the rapid transformation he had witnessed, Kai obeyed the prince’s command, moving toward the cave opening, drawn by the pearlescent shimmer of the fitful moonlight on the dark waves. As he stood on the wet sand, he saw the fluorescent flicker of light snaking swiftly toward him beneath the water and Flood’s fantastically whiskered dragon head broke through, water fountaining off his scales as it had the night Kai became his Sacrifice. By the uncertain light he saw that the dragon was holding something out to him in his claws; he waded out into the cold water to take it from him.
“This once was mine…now it is yours.” Flood’s words drifted back to him on the night breeze as his sinuous form streaked back out to the open sea. “If there is danger, Kaito, just play my flute and I will come.”
“But what should I play?” Kai called after him.
“‘Three Cranes on the Shore’…”
As the moonlight brightened, Kai looked down to see that Flood had placed a flute fashioned out of smooth ebony in his hands.
What is the significance of that old clan song to you, Lord Dragon? And why did it make you so sad?
Chapter 5
“Where is my son?”
Masao heard the question as if from far away. He had been wandering through an unfamiliar crowded place, searching desperately for Naoki. Yet every time he tapped someone on the shoulder, when they turned around they revealed nothing but a blank white mask.
As the ghostly faces vanished, he opened his eyes to see Lord Toshiro gazing sternly down at him.
“So you’re awake at last, Masao.”
Masao’s first instinct was to show the respect due to the lord of the Red Kites but when he tried to raise his head he could only manage the slightest movement before, dizzy and weak, he fell back again. His whole body ached and he could feel the tightness of bandages against his ribcage where Manabu must have bound up his wounds.
“My lord, this is only the second time he’s opened his eyes since he returned to the stronghold.” Masao recognized the clan surgeon’s soft, persuasive tones. “It might be more productive to wait until he’s fully conscious.”
“Masao, you can hear me, can’t you?” Lord Toshiro took no notice of Manabu’s advice. “Where is Naoki?”
So Lord Naoki hadn’t made it back yet. A groan of self-recrimination escaped Masao’s dry lips. He had awoken from a nightmare only to find that it was true; he had failed in his sworn duty to protect his young master. And that thought filled him with a pain far more agonizing than the throb of his injuries.
“How could you let this happen?” Although Lord Toshiro’s voice was quiet, Masao heard the undertone of barely restrained anger. “I trusted you, Masao. I trusted you to protect him with your life.”
“How…?” Masao forced his confused mind to remember. One moment he and Naoki had been in full flight from the Tide Dragon temple, the next they had encountered a detachment of warrior monks, arrows aimed at them, nocked against taut bowstrings. “But we were using the Kite Shadow jutsu,” he whispered, not understanding what had gone wrong. “Why did they see us? Why did it fail?” As they fled, someone had appeared before them… someone powerful enough to pierce through their illusion.
“So at best my son has been captured and is being held as a thief by the monks of the shrine. And at worst, he’s lying injured, maybe even dead.”
Masao heard the bitter reproach and could only incline his head. He could not bear t
he images that Lord Toshiro’s words conjured.
“And what precisely are these?”
Masao forced his eyes open again to see Lord Toshiro holding up the treasure he and Naoki had risked their lives to steal from the temple. “The…Tide Jewels.” Even with his wavering sight he could see the faint flicker of flame that burned at the heart of the translucent gem, one blue as the deep ocean, the other white as tide foam.
“You stole the sacred treasures of Cipangu from the temple? And yet you left my son behind?”
“He threw them to me…as we were scaling the wall. Then he lost his grip…and fell.”
“And whose idea was it to carry out such a hare-brained raid in the first place? Your orders were to reconnoiter from a distance – not to go inside the temple.”
Masao said nothing. It had, of course, been Naoki’s idea; eager to prove to his father that he was ready to ride at his side into battle, he had pestered Masao day and night to let him take part in the mission.
I’ve mastered the Kite Shadow, Masao, so why won’t you let me try it out?
How could he admit to Lord Toshiro that Naoki had tricked him? That he had allowed himself to be persuaded by Naoki against his better judgment. It was just so hard to deny the boy anything when he turned the full force of his fierce, proud smile on him, at once endearing and challenging…
There was only one honorable course of action to be taken. Masao pushed himself up to a sitting position. Lord Toshiro’s features faded in and out of his vision. He put one hand to his throbbing head, ashamed that his clan leader should see him in such a state.
“What do you think you’re doing?” demanded Lord Toshiro.
“Going back,” Masao said through gritted teeth, “for Lord Naoki.”
Lord Toshiro placed his hand on Masao’s shoulder and pushed. Pain shot through Masao’s body and he fell back on the futon, gasping.