Emperor of the Fireflies

by Sarah Ash

  A man, holding a little boy of four or five years by the hand, was walking along the thin ribbon of sand by the lapping tide. Just a father and son out for a stroll along the beach at high tide. Except as they came closer, the tall, elegant figure began to look remarkably familiar.

  “Can it be his eminence’s ghost?” quavered Lady Miruko, holding one hand up to shield her eyes.

  “A specter in full daylight?” Lady Hakase, skeptical as ever, was unconvinced. “And where are the ghost flames? In every tale I’ve ever heard, there are dancing blue spirit flames around a ghostly apparition.”

  “But his eminence died in the fire on Akatobi Island.”

  “He was reported missing,” corrected Ochiba, punctilious as ever. “His body was never found.”

  “And who is the child?”

  “Did you never see the prince at court? It must be little Norihira.”

  As they watched, Prince Norihira stretched out both hands to the waves and they heard him call in his thin, high voice, “Lord Flood. Come to me.”

  “What’s he doing?” Lady Miruko asked.

  Ah, Ayaka thought. Now I understand. The timing is perfect; the tide’s on the turn. How clever of Kai and Suzaku to plan it this way.

  “Look,” Lady Miruko squeaked, clutching at Ayaka in her fright.

  The undulating coils of Shiomitsu, the Flood Dragon, caught the sun in his blue-green scales as he came streaking through the waves toward the prince.

  “He’s going to cause another flood!” cried Yorisada. “Stay back, everyone. Shield the empress. Go further up!”

  “It’s all right,” Ayaka said, her voice ringing out clearly across the shore. “Flood would never harm the rightful emperor. He’s come to pay his respects and greet his new master.”

  And as Flood came closer, he raised his head above the water,

  Even from where she stood, Ayaka could hear the little prince give a shout of amazement. Flood lowered his great head in a gentle and graceful obeisance and Suzaku picked up Norihira and waded out through the eddying tide froth so that he could lean down and stroke the great Tide Dragon’s whiskered snout.

  A soft cry of wonder went up from everyone watching on the shore.

  “Did you see that?” Lady Miruko looked up at Ayaka, her eyes wide. “The little prince patted Prince Shiomitsu, just as if he were his pet pony. It must be a sign.”

  Ayaka nodded. She was watching Flood, knowing that it was Kai’s will that was driving the great dragon. She also knew that this was the end of her short rule as empress. She had no idea what the future would hold for her and her clan now. Ex-emperor Suzaku was a kindly man but he would not look so kindly on those who had engineered his downfall and exile.

  “A miracle!” cried Lord Kiyomori. “Ex-emperor Suzaku is restored to us. And his son is blessed by the Lords of the Tides. We have our new emperor. And his name is Norihira!”

  Trust Lord Kiyomori to turn such a moment to his personal advantage. Ayaka could imagine her father saying as the watching courtiers began to echo his words, calling out, “Long live our new emperor!” and a bewildered Captain Yorisada looked from Lord Kiyomori to Ayaka for instruction.

  “Captain Yorisada,” Lord Kiyomori said sternly, “where do your loyalties lie?” The Kiyomori clan retainers had gathered close to their master, hands on the hilts of their katana.

  Ayaka felt her skin go chill with goosebumps. She glanced at the captain and as her gaze met his, she saw that he was staring at her, through her, as though she was no longer anyone of consequence.

  “Lady Ayaka,” he said stiffly. “Please come with me. You’re under arrest.”

  Ayaka instinctively took a step back, only to find two of Yorisada’s men were standing behind her. They reached out to grab hold of her but she shrugged off the heavy outer gown with its silver thread embroidery, leaving the bemused men clutching an empty garment.

  “Run, my lady!” Reika shouted, giving her a shove.

  Ayaka picked up her skirts and ran over the damp sand toward the sea. Behind her she heard the guards in pursuit and the shocked cries of her ladies, urging her on.

  Flood suddenly reared up out of the waves. The thin autumn sunlight caught the fierce glint in his blue eyes. A roar issued from his fanged jaws that echoed around the bay, the thunder of a stormtide churning over shingle. The guards hesitated, glancing uncertainly toward the sea and the enraged dragon as a foaming breaker came crashing straight toward them.

  “Don’t let her get away!” Lord Kiyomori began to rail at them. “She’s our only link to the traitor Hotaru!”

  “Kai!” Ayaka called as she ran on, straight into the tide. It was only as her feet touched the eddying water that she realized the tide was on the turn. Gazing up at Flood’s great and noble head, his scales reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling shimmer of blue, she saw him turn toward her, bowing as he had bowed to Crown Prince Norihira.

  “Take my hand, Ayaka.” Kai appeared beside Flood, one hand resting on the Tide Dragon’s shimmering body.

  “Kai,” she said again, relief and wonder mingled as she reached out and felt his grip, warm and reassuring, pull her through the tide toward him. He lifted her on to Flood’s back and clambered up after her.

  “Go after them!” Lord Kiyomori’s voice carried to her from the shore. “Bring her back!”

  “Hang on tight,” Kai whispered in Ayaka’s ear. She wound her arms around Flood’s neck, surprised to feel that the scales that looked like chips of sapphire were silky smooth to the touch. He positioned himself behind her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body.

  Flood began to move, gliding slowly, effortlessly through the water, heading out to the open sea. Startled, Ayaka let out a yelp and clung on more tightly.

  “It’s all right,” Kai said, his mouth close to her ear. “I won’t let you fall.” And his arms went around her, holding her against his chest. It felt so natural that she almost relaxed, closing her eyes a moment. And then, as she realized the utter impropriety of their position and how it must look to those on land, she found that she was laughing out loud in sheer exhilaration.

  Is this me? Or is it Himiko? Or have I somehow become both at once?

  In shedding the heavy formal outer gown, she felt as light as if she had shed her old skin and all the weight of stuffy court protocol with it.

  I’ll never be able to go back. . .but somehow I just don’t care; it all seems so petty and unimportant compared to this.

  The experience of traveling so swiftly through the waves, skin speckled with salty spray, was heady, yet invigorating, like her first sip of sake.

  “Where are going?” she asked Kai.

  “To Kurozuro,” he said. “You should be safe there with my clan.”

  The figures on the shore were dwindling fast, the imperial guards falling back, unable – or unwilling – to give chase to a lord of the sea.

  I’ve escaped. I’m free.

  Chapter 62

  “. . .ki. . . Wake up, Sakami. . .” Someone was whispering her name. At the same time Sakami felt something warm and wet licking her face.

  Two amber eyes stared intently into hers. Soft whiskers brushed her face.

  A kitsune’s kiss.

  “Honou? Did we make it?”

  “Just in time.”

  “But why are we in our fox forms? And where’s Foxfire-Fang?” She raised her head, suddenly panicking.

  “Right here, beside me.” He rose and stretched, giving an elegant flick of his tail to show her where. “Once we reached the turning off the capital city road, I began to sense the mountain’s healing power. So I thought if we changed back, we’d lose less energy than trying to maintain our human forms.”

  “But that’s really clever of you, Honou.” She was impressed that he’d thought of such a sensible solution to their dilemma.

  “I’m a fox. Clever is what we do.” His eyes glinted in the dawn light as he whirled around to gently rub noses with her. “I’m no longer a
cub, Sakami,” he said softly. “I’m fully grown. When will you see me as I really am?”

  She had no answer to give him.

  ***

  “Something’s changed.” Sakami paused on the overgrown path. “It’s so quiet. I can’t hear any birds.” She sniffed. “And the air smells. . .different.”

  Honou raised his face to the sky and sniffed too, rather more noisily. “You’re right.” He pulled a face. “It stinks. Almost as if the hot springs were bubbling over.”

  “Can hot springs do that?” Sakami was skeptical; Honou had a tendency to exaggerate.

  “When you heat water in a cooking pot, if you make the fire fiercer, the water boils over the top.”

  Sakami glanced at him, surprised that he had made another useful observation. “Does that mean that whatever’s warming the springs is getting hotter?” She raised her head too, straining to get a clearer view of the mountain rising above them – but there were too many trees in between and all she could see were leaves, some already golden brown, a few spiraling down as the breeze stirred the branches.

  “I’ve had enough of this cursed sword.” Honou eased it off his shoulder and propping it, hilt upward, against a trunk so that he could stretch, groaning loudly. “It’s awkward to carry. My back aches.”

  “Don’t speak so disrespectfully.” Sakami, shocked, hoped that the powerful spirit of the sword was resting within and had not heard Honou’s thoughtless complaint.

  “But if we didn’t have to lug it home, we could change to our true forms and get back so much more quickly.”

  “This sword is the sole reason for our journey. What would be the point of frisking merrily back to the shrine, empty-handed?” Sakami aimed an irritated swipe at him which he dodged deftly. “It’s too heavy for two kitsune to manage alone, so we just have to do it the human way.”

  Honou suddenly lifted his head again, alert, listening. Sakami froze, listening too.

  “Someone’s coming this way.”

  She could hear the sound of feet crunching over twigs and fallen leaves; panicking, she ducked behind a boulder, tugging at Honou’s arm to force him down beside her.

  “If Sakami’s not up at the shrine, then where can she be?”

  She recognized her brother and his friend and fellow archer, laconic Hiroki. And the sight of Hiroki made her fur bristle; she had never forgiven him for accusing her of fraternizing with the Red Kites.

  She stepped out in front of them. “Are you looking for me, Shun?”

  Shun stopped.

  “Where’ve you been all this time?” There was a harshness in his voice which alarmed her. “You told me you were going to the Sakuranbo shrine. But when the storm cloud settled over the mountain, we came up to check you were all right,” he reached out and gripped her by the shoulders, “and you weren’t there. I was worried sick you’d been abducted. . . Or worse –”

  “Storm cloud?” Sakami glanced at Honou who had moved out to stand beside her, leaving the sword concealed behind the boulder. “When was that?”

  “Listen to me, Sakami.” Shun’s fingers pressed harder into her flesh. “Why did you lie?”

  “We had to go to collect a sacred treasure for the shrine,” Sakami said, trying to wriggle free. “And you’re hurting me, Shun.”

  “You didn’t think to ask me to help?” He sounded offended but he let her go.

  “Honou and I managed perfectly well between us. There was no need to worry.”

  “If you’ve laid so much as a hand on my sister –” Shun turned to glower at Honou who raised both hands, palms out, placatingly.

  Stupid overprotective brother. Sakami tugged sharply at Shun’s sleeve. “We’ve far more important things to worry about now, Shun. What’s this about a storm?”

  “I was on watch last night,” Hiroki said, “and I saw a dark cloud scudding toward us from the north. So I sounded the alarm. And Master Yoriaki of the Red Kites said it could be a whirlwind and ordered everyone to take cover in the siege tunnel until it had blown over.”

  “A whirlwind?” Sakami glanced at Honou again. “But I can’t see any signs of storm damage.”

  “Maybe not here,” Shun said. “But higher up –”

  “The shrine?” Sakami’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “You’d better come and look.”

  There was something about the grim set of Shun’s mouth that told her she would not like what she found when they got there.

  As they set off, Honou took out the sacred sword and shouldered it again with a loud grunt of effort.

  “What’s that?” Shun stared at him suspiciously.

  “The shrine’s treasure,” Honou said.

  “I don’t remember. . .” Shun began. “But I suppose it was seven years and more ago.”

  “You were too busy fishing in the stream and hunting for stag beetles to be interested,” Sakami said.

  Honou stopped suddenly in the middle of the path.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

  He looked at her and the playful light had vanished from his tawny eyes.

  “Kurika.”

  The sight that greeted them was one of devastation. The clearing was filled with torn-up trees, roots in the air, tumbled rocks and shredded branches.

  “How could I have been so stupid?” Sakami stared around in numbed disbelief. “We should never have brought the sword back here. At least in the capital shrine, we had the protection of the Celestial Foxes.” She slapped herself on the cheeks. “What was I thinking?”

  The scarlet torii had been blown down and reduced to a few fragments of splintered, charred timbers. The simple wooden shrine building which Shun and Hiroki had spent long hours constructing had burned to the ground, with only drifting piles of ash to show where it had stood. But worst of all, the two guardian fox statues which had survived the first fire seven years ago, had been toppled from their plinths and smashed to pieces.

  “Yukiko?” Sakami sank to her knees in the grass, reaching out to stroke the fragments as if she could transmit her feelings through the rough stone. Her voice faltered. “Kane?” She could not sense the presence of the guardian kitsune at all. Had they tried to defend the shrine against Kurika and been annihilated?

  She looked up pleadingly at Honou. “Are they still here? Or has Kurika – ?” She broke off, not wanting to put her worst fears into words. For if Kurika had grown strong enough to destroy a tailed fox spirit, he could snuff the two of them out as easily as lantern flames.

  He shrugged but she knew him well enough to tell that he was deeply shaken; there wasn’t even a hint of his usual self-confident swagger. “Perhaps they’ve retreated to the castle to look after Father Taiki.”

  “So where is Kuri –” she began again but stopped as a sudden tremor shook the ground beneath their feet. “What’s that?”

  Shun looked up above the tree line to the conical peak above, shading his eyes.

  “An earthquake?” She tried to quell the panic rising inside her.

  “It felt as if it came from inside the mountain,” Hiroki said.

  “Wherever it came from, we mustn’t stay here.” Shun put his arm round Sakami’s shoulders, raising her up.

  “But we promised to protect the shrine –”

  “What is there left to protect?”

  Another tremor, faint but distinct, shuddered through the ground.

  “Come on!” Hiroki was already hurrying toward the path. Shun caught Sakami by the hand and pulled her after him. Honou followed, carrying Foxfire-Fang.

  “What’s happening?” she asked, breathless with the effort of keeping up with her brother’s swift stride. “Is it really a quake?”

  Shun shook his head. “I don’t know.” His hand, clamped tightly around hers, felt hot and sweaty. She could smell his fear and this alarmed her even more. Shun had always played the role of protective big brother, right from when they were small; if he was afraid, then the danger was real.

  Is this really Kurik
a’s doing ?

  He stopped, turning to gaze back up the mountain again. “There,” he said under his breath. “A plume of smoke. . .or vapor. Hard to make out against the clear sky.“

  “Has someone lit a fire up there?” Hiroki followed his gaze. “That looks too clear to be wood smoke. More like the steam rising from a pot of boiling water.”

  “See, Sakami?” Honou looked smug. “Just as I said.”

  ***

  The exertions of working his passage upriver on the sake boat, the throb of the gash to his head, the ride through the night, all were taking their toll on Masao. Another faint but distinctive tremor shook the ground, catching him off-balance. He caught his foot on a tree root and fell heavily on to the earthy path. And when he tried to get up again, his body refused.

  “Let’s take a rest.” Naoki shrugged the bag from his shoulder.

  Masao shook his head. He would not give in to fatigue, not having come so far.

  “Beniko gave me rations.” Naoki hunkered down beside him. “Cold tea. Rice balls. Dried squid. Persimmons. They’ll give you energy to keep going.”

  “She’s a good woman.” Masao relented. But he was so tired, he could hardly summon the energy to chew and swallow Beniko’s lovingly prepared food, although the tang of pickled plum was refreshing on the tongue.

  “Do you have a plan?” Naoki asked, passing him the tea flask.

  “The tremors have been getting stronger.” Masao swigged a long draught, then passed it back. The tea cleared his head a little. “I assume that Kurika’s doing this to scare people away. The only plan I have is to stop him before he stirs the sleeping volcano back to life.”

  ***

  “You’re safe, Sakami!” Mai and Mami rushed to greet her. Surprised by the warmth of their welcome, she hugged each in turn. Behind the twins in the lantern-lit gloom of the siege tunnel, Sakami saw the pale faces of the castle inhabitants turning to stare at them.