by Sarah Ash
The nearest warship had run aground on the rocks, and was listing to one side. Its crewmen were hard at work patching a hole in the bows. As Masao approached, one of the sailors saw him and stopped, hammer frozen mid-stroke.
“I was washed overboard by the floodtide,” Masao explained, aware that the man was staring at him open-mouthed. “Can you lend me something to wear?”
“The floodtide?” The crewman recovered his wits. “You’re lucky you didn’t drown. Wait there,” he called and disappeared below deck. A short while later he reappeared carrying a plain tunic. “Captain says you can have this. And we’re making soup; I’ll fetch you some to warm you up.”
“Thanks. I owe you and your captain,” Masao slid his arms into the tunic sleeves, wrapping it around his body, glad of the protection in the brisk breeze off the sea. The sailor, skin deep-tanned by the sun and wind, his graying hair tied back in a neat topknot, brought Masao a bowl of steaming fish broth. Masao sipped it gratefully, not caring that it scalded his tongue; he could not remember the last time he had eaten or drunk anything.
Perhaps Tide Dragons don’t need to eat. . .
“Any sign of your fellow crewmen?” asked the sailor.
Masao shook his head.
“That was one bad storm. Blew up out of nowhere. No warning.” The sailor grimaced at him, the knowing look of one seaman to another.
Masao thanked him again for the soup and set off up the beach, hoping that no one would recognize him with his hair down.
I don’t know how long I’ve got until the tide begins to turn. But I have to find out what’s become of my clan.
Two of the Red Kite ships had been washed far up the beach and a third lay on the rocks at the far side of the bay. Further inland where the wide sand dunes gave way to the first trees of the dense forests beneath Castle Kurozuro, he could see the Red Kite encampment and the smoke of cooking fires rising from behind the maku. The clan banners were still fluttering outside the officers’ tents. But where were the sentries? His uncle, General Okitane always insisted on posting guards at all vantage points. An unnatural air of stillness hung over the whole camp.
Has Lord Toshiro seized the castle from the Black Cranes? Or has Commander Higekuro taken him prisoner?
And then Masao spotted a lean, white-haired man crossing the area in front of the tents, heading toward the infirmary tent beneath the trees.
Yūgiri. . .
For a moment his heart betrayed him, stuttering a beat or two. Yūgiri here? No; it must be Yosanosuke Hisui, the shaman’s father and personal healer to Lord Toshiro.
***
No guards had been posted outside the infirmary tent. Masao lifted the flap and peered inside. Sticks of purifying incense burned at a little altar, releasing a cleansing scent of cedar and aloeswood resins into the air. Masao counted a dozen injured Kite warriors lying side by side. Hisui-sensei was kneeling beside one of his patients at the far end of the tent, yet, almost as if he had sensed Masao’s presence, he rose, gazing at him piercingly from eyes as weirdly pale as Yūgiri’s.
Masao placed his index finger over his lips, and the elder healer nodded, beckoning him to follow him outside to the healers’ little tent. Hisui-sensei did not once look round until they were inside but busied himself with closing the entrance.
“Now they will think I am conducting a healing and no one will dare enter without asking my permission first.” Then he bowed low to Masao, gesturing to him to sit opposite him on a rug spread out in the sand. “Sake, my lord?”
Masao automatically reached out to take the little cup Hisui-sensei was offering and sipped the pure liquid, savoring the taste. As he drank, he gazed at Yūgiri’s father, seeing the family likeness – yet also how time had harshened the stern contours of the older man’s features, accentuating the web of fine lines beneath his eyes.
“What’s happened here since I left, Hisui-sensei?” Masao asked. “Where is Lord Toshiro? Is the siege over?”
“Haven’t you heard? An imperial messenger – all in white – arrived last night.” Yosanosuke took a mouthful of the sake. “Emperor Suzaku has been deposed by his brother Hotaru. Our clan has been pardoned by the new emperor and summoned to court – so Lord Toshiro set out straight away for the capital, with your uncle and the senior retainers.”
An imperial messenger. . .all in white. Could that have been one of Hotaru’s shikigami? Surely no mortal messenger could have covered the distance so swiftly?
“Overland? Where did they get the horses?”
Yosanosuke Hisui leaned over to refill his cup with sake. “From the castle stables. The imperial commander sanctioned it. It seems that the Black Cranes are in disgrace. Their young lord tried to assassinate Prince Hotaru at the Tide Festival. The princess is under house arrest.”
That news would not sit well with Kai. Masao drank the second cup of sake in one gulp, hoping it would sharpen his wits.
“Only the wounded have remained here until they’re ready to travel. I imagine Lord Toshiro will be eager to start rebuilding Castle Akatobi as soon as he can.”
“So the Kites have been officially pardoned.” At least Hotaru had kept his promise to Naoki. Yet Masao did not feel in the least reassured by the news, knowing all too well the dark onmyōdo trickery the new emperor had employed to depose his brother and seize the throne.
“Pardoned at last.” The elder shaman closed his pale eyes, nodding to confirm what he had said. When he opened them again, he fixed Masao with a shrewd stare. “But perhaps you and Yūgiri knew that already. Is my son well?”
Masao hesitated, not wanting to add to the healer’s worries by telling him what Hotaru had done to his son. “He is with Lord Naoki at the imperial court.”
“I’m reassured to hear that he’s making himself useful,” said Hisui-sensei dryly and Masao remembered the bitter friction he had witnessed between father and son during the siege. Before he could say anything more, Hisui-sensei leaned over and gazed intently into his face. “But how is it that your eyes are so green, Lord Masao? As green as the sea?”
Masao flinched. “I beg you, Hisui-sensei, don’t tell anyone – not even my uncle – that you’ve seen me today.” A sudden disconcerting, disorienting sensation flowed through him and the Ebb Dragon tattoo began to burn.
The shaman pointed to Masao’s left wrist. “So you’ve taken Lord Naoki’s place as Ebb’s Sacrifice?”
There was so much more that Masao needed to ask – but the pulsations flooding through his body were growing too strong to ignore. He got unsteadily to his feet.
“I have to go.” The tide must be on the turn already. What would happen if he didn’t make it back to the sea in time? Masao had no idea. Would he die? Shiohiru, the Ebb Dragon, whose body he was now forced to share, could not leave the sea. Shiohiru must be calling him.
“Take care, my lord.”
Outside the tent, the daylight was far too bright, searing Masao’s eyes. He began to skirt the outer edge of the Kites’ camp, cutting through the dunes, hoping if he was seen by the guards, they would see the color of his tunic and assume that he was one of Higekuro’s many crewmen. The surging sensation grew stronger and a soft, regular susurration began to pulse through his ears, the sound of the incoming waves.
The call of the tide.
He staggered on, tripping over the tussocks of reeds, clumsy in his haste. He had planned to hide the tunic in one of the sea caves on a ledge above the watermark for Kai to find – but he was no longer sure if he had enough time left.
The rushing sound in his ears had become so insistent that it was a torment, almost blotting out all coherent thoughts.
The sand beneath his running feet was wet now as he hurried onward toward the distant slick of glistening water marking the tideline. He could smell the raw salt tang of the distant sea. The scent filled him with conflicting emotions: relief that he was so close to the turning tide – and an aching regret that the same tide would drag him relentlessly away from his clan
. He darted into one of the sea caves and tore off the tunic, flinging it up high on to a rocky shelf where he hoped it would not get wet. He ran out again, splashing through the shallows, and sensed a shimmer of white shadow snaking toward him beneath the hazy green of the sea.
He stopped.
I don’t want this. I want to stay on land. I want –
And then, as Ebb reclaimed him, he felt himself sucked underneath the waves, his body, his consciousness melting into a foaming spray of blinding white. . .
Chapter 4
Dusk was falling by the time the two young kitsune reached the bamboo thicket that concealed the entrance to the castle siege tunnel. Honou stopped suddenly, sniffing the air, his russet fur bristling.
“Where are the Black Crane sentinels? There’s no one on guard.”
Sakami poked her slender muzzle out from between the tall bamboo stems to see if she could catch sight of any of the Kite shinobi. She caught a trace of an unfamiliar smell on the breeze that made her nostrils twitch; it reminded her of the pungent smell of the dried manure the peasants spread on their vegetable patches.
“What’s that stink, Honou?”
He lifted his nose, sniffing. “That smells like the black powder the Kites used to blast that big hole here last time.”
“Last time?” She had no idea what he was referring to.
“We’ll slip in through the siege tunnel; that’ll give you the chance to practice changing back into human form without anyone seeing.”
“But it’s blocked off with lots of logs.”
“You’re a fox now, remember? You can sneak in and out where no human can.” Honou winked at her.
I’m a fox. How could she have forgotten? I’m a kitsune, just like Honou.
“I’m going to make a run for the siege tunnel. If the coast’s clear, I’ll bark twice. Don’t come unless you hear me give the signal.”
“Be careful, Honou.” She could not resist nuzzling her head against his coat for reassurance. In this uncertain, half-remembered world, he was the only one she trusted.
A short while later Sakami heard two hoarse, high-pitched barks from beyond the thicket. This is it. She launched herself, running with her body low to the ground, aware as she streaked along, that her red fur made her an ideal target for any nearby archer.
Breathless, she reached the siege tunnel. Faced with the wall of interlocked timbers stacked high to block the entrance, she stopped. She put her front paws on the foremost logs, poking her sharp muzzle in and out to search for a gap large enough to squeeze through. She let out a little whine of frustration, unable to find the place where Honou had got in. Just as she was despairing, she heard a curt bark and, looking up, saw Honou’s bright eyes gazing down at her from high up the barricade.
“Up there? But I can’t –”
“It’s easy. Sakami the girl might have found it hard, but you’re Sakami the vixen now.”
If he can do it, then maybe I can too… Sakami sat back on her haunches a moment and then launched herself at the barricade, scrambling up from one log to another, not daring to look back. Her claws scrabbled on the rough bark of the logs as she climbed.
“Through here!” she heard Honou’s voice calling, echoing around the tunnel beyond. The gap looked so small. But I’ve got to get through. I have a mission to fulfill. She steeled herself and began to squeeze her body through into the dank darkness that lay beyond.
“Jump down,” Honou’s voice came from the gloom below.
“I can’t see the floor.” She wavered, suddenly unconfident.
“Then I’ll catch you.” Was he teasing her? “Trust me, Sakami.”
A flare of foxfire lit the tunnel; Sakami blinked, dazzled as Honou transformed back into human form, and held out his arms to her.
I have to trust him. She leapt down toward him and felt his arms close around her, holding her tightly.
“There you are; that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he murmured, stroking her. The warmth of his hand felt reassuring as she relaxed against him; her body was trembling with the exertion. The sensation was far from unpleasant and she felt her fear melting away under the gentle touch of his hands as she began to drift into a languorous daze. . .
And then she realized that she was still in his arms. “Put me down!” she ordered.
“Just a little longer…” He nuzzled his cheek against her sleek fur.
“Honou!” When he didn’t react, she nipped his upper arm; not viciously, just a little bite sharp enough to make her point.
“Ouch!” He let go of her suddenly and she dropped to the ground, righting herself on all four paws. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“We’re wasting time.” She became aware that she was lashing her tail in annoyance. “Show me how to transform.”
He was rubbing his arm. “You left a mark.” And then he grinned at her. “A love bite. A sign of your true feelings.”
“I’ll draw blood next time!” She couldn’t help wondering if the longer she stayed in her fox form, the less she would remember her human feelings.
“Changing back is simple,” said Honou. “Just close your eyes and think yourself back to how you were before.”
“But my clothes?” Her eyes had become used to the dim light in the tunnel; if she could see, then so could Honou if she failed to imagine herself clothed and appeared stark naked before him.
“Who said we were wasting time?”
“Turn around. Face the wall,” she ordered. I was wearing my yukata. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. It was mist gray; the sash was woven in a leaf pattern of willow green. Sandals on my feet…
“There you are.” Honou grinned his approval. “Didn’t I say it was easy –”
“Who’s there?” demanded a girl’s voice. “Identify yourselves!”
***
A young woman appeared out of the darkness brandishing a naginata. Behind her came another who looked like her paler shadow, holding a lantern to light their way, . .
“Sakami?” cried the one with the naginata. “You’re back! But where’s Lord Kaito?”
Sakami, bewildered, stared blankly at her. “L-Lord Kaito?” she repeated. The name stirred a strange sensation in her heart.
The young woman lowered the weapon, marched up to her, and stared suspiciously into her face. “Something happened up there on the mountain, didn’t it?” she said in an undertone.
“Who is this?” whispered Sakami to Honou.
“This is Mai,” he whispered back.
“What have you done to her, Honou?” demanded Mai, turning on him.
“Me?” Honou said with a yelp. “Nothing at all!”
“Has she had a bump on the head?”
“We had a run-in with one of the Red Kites up on the mountain. Lord Kaito had to go on without us.”
Kaito. Again the name stirred a swell of strong feelings.
“Did you miss me, Mai?” asked Honou.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mai said, tossing her head. “I haven’t had the time.”
“She’s been chasing after Rikyu again,” said her shadow mournfully.
“I have not, Mami – you know Honou’s my favorite.”
“I have to go to the castle shrine,” Sakami said to no one in particular. Little fragments of memory kept returning and she was getting a headache trying to make sense of them. Familiar faces, familiar names. . .
“The shrine?” Mai repeated. “Aren’t you in the least bit interested in what’s happened here while you’ve been away?”
“Of – of course I am.” Sakami hesitated, glancing desperately at Honou for support.
“It’s a disaster,” said Mami. “The imperial fleet came to break the siege. We thought we were saved.”
“And not before time,” said Mai. “Our food supplies were very running low.”
“So why are you guarding the tunnels?” asked Honou. “And where are all the lookouts?”
Mai shook her head. “Last night a mess
enger arrived from the capital with an imperial decree. Commander Higekuro has been ordered to transport the princess and all the members of the main house into exile. Yuna’s going with them to prepare their food.”
“Into exile?” Sakami did not understand what that meant. “Where’s exile?” She saw Mai and Mami exchange a little look, stifling smiles, and realized, mortified, that she had said something foolish.
“That must have been some bump on the head, Sakami,” Mai said, not unkindly. “Have you left half your wits up on the mountain?”
“So if the princess has to leave the castle, what about the rest of us?” Sakami was trying to make sense of the information.
“No one cares about us; we’re not important,” said Mami. “We’ll be forced to serve whoever becomes the next lord of the castle – or kicked out to starve.”
Sakami felt as if her brain was going to spill over with so much information. She shot Honou a plaintive glance, wordlessly begging him to rescue her.
“Well,” he said cheerily, seizing her by the hand and dragging her toward the tunnel exit, “we have to go find the priest at the shrine.”
***
The instant they turned the corner of the main house and saw the castle shrine, Sakami sensed the presence of other kitsune. The air around the little building shimmered faintly, as if a barrier had been erected to protect it. As they drew near, the spirits of the two fox statues guarding the entrance awoke, leaping down from their plinths to bar their way. The female guardian gazed at them, slowly swishing the pale flames of her three magnificent tails from side to side; the male guardian prowled along the perimeter, keeping watch.
“Lady Inari sent us,” Honou said. “Sakami is one of us now.”
“So I see,” said the female, looking Sakami up and down with a critical eye. “But will she be any use to us if the shrine is attacked? “
“I’ll do what I can,” Sakami retorted, feeling as if she had assessed and been found wanting. “But if I’m not needed here –”