It twirled to the passageway floor, sticking in the wood with a dull thok.
Snowhawk gyrated around, tensing her hands into blades, fingers locked together. Kagero started to whirl, arms extended, twin fans flashing as she turned. Like a human top she advanced on Snowhawk, the revolving iron fan tips just missing the walls. Snowhawk scrambled back, crouched low and scuttled at Kagero. Building up speed, she threw herself onto her side and slid along the floorboards feet-first. With a determined roar, Snowhawk crashed into Kagero's turning ankles, knocking her off balance.
The bounty hunter's spin broke and slowed into a turning stumble. Snowhawk leapt up and made for the tiny knife. But Kagero regained her footing with astonishing speed and ran backwards, cutting her opponent off.
Gasping for each breath, Snowhawk took her eyes from Kagero to glance at the imbedded blade. Was it dug in deep? Could it be snatched out?
The glance lasted a second too long.
Kagero took a quick, nimble stride then jumped high into the air. A mighty double-footed kick broke Snowhawk's half-formed block, slamming into her chest.
Snowhawk's head snapped forward as she was flung along the corridor. She skidded on her back, through broken sticks and torn paper, up to her room's doorway.
Her neck throbbed, her head went light. Snowhawk knew at once that she was badly stunned. She opened her eyes, groaning loudly as Kagero landed on her chest, settling down heavily, weight spread to pin her to the floor. The iron-spoked fans hovered at her throat. Kagero smiled down at her, as if daring her to move, even to flinch.
Where was Moonshadow? He would have easily heard the noise of this fight. Since he hadn't come to her aid, did that mean he was already dead? A pang of distress clawed at her. She fought it off; Moon might just be drugged or otherwise delayed. Might someone else come to investigate the din and break this up?
'Did you kill the real innkeeper?' Snowhawk scowled up at her attacker.
The bounty hunter panted heavily. 'She's sleeping off the tea I gave her.' Kagero huffed and tossed her head with mock indignation. 'You think I'd kill anybody for free?'
Kagero's eyes were momentarily off her. Snowhawk saw her chance and took it. Her hands flashed up, each grabbing a wrist and pushing hard, forcing the fans and their drug-coated tips back, away from her throat. Kagero grunted, leaning forward, trying to return them to Snowhawk's neck.
As the two pushed and shoved, each grunting and sucking in air, Kagero's eyes, filled with black menace and determination, lingered on Snowhawk's.
Your biggest mistake, Snowhawk smiled, as she forced her next breath steady. Her stomach turned hot. Her heart was already pounding, but now it thrummed even more intensely as she activated her most specialised skill. Kagero had forgotten who she was dealing with.
Snowhawk felt familiar invisible energy surge from her eyes to Kagero's.
'Kunoichi hypnosis, eh? Pah!' Kagero leered. 'Don't you try that kids' stuff on me!' Her face was full of confidence but abruptly, one eyelid twitched then sagged.
Snowhawk felt herself losing physical strength fast. Unleashing her special power always had that effect. The fans, trembling now in Kagero's hands, moved closer.
She doggedly fired a second bolt of energy into her foe's eyes.
'It won't work!' Kagero snorted, forcing one fan right up to her throat. Iron spoke-tips danced a fingernail's width from Snowhawk's skin.
Gulping in a desperate breath, her mind frenzied and heart racing, Snowhawk loosed a third bolt. At once she felt her stomach cool. That was all she had.
If it worked at all, would it work in time?
EIGHT
Beware of the Kappa
Moonshadow stood on the riverbank, rushing water at his feet. Green-tinged starlight lit the nightscape around him, drenching everything with its peculiar colour.
The river flickered constantly with splashes of emerald-silver as if a vast school of fish teemed in it. Beyond its banks, a thickly wooded hillside climbed away from the town, tiger-striped with the shadows of tall trees. Moon's eyes hunted for movement.
No, not there, the voice was back in his head, down here, look down.
As he did, the water at his feet erupted in all directions and a manlike form hurtled up from the river at him. He caught a glimpse of mottled skin, tangled hair, claws.
Moonshadow tried evading to his left but the unknown creature moved too quickly. For a split second his view of the riverbank was upside down, then, in a flash of bubbles, he was underwater. It had him by one leg and was dragging him to the bottom.
Looking down, Moon flinched as he saw what gripped him: a Kappa!
The most infamous of water-spirits, Kappas were known for mischief and murder. At times they were content just to startle those crossing rivers or wading as they fished. But, quite randomly, they also attacked and drowned people. There had been many sightings, all with similar descriptions – but none quite as terrifying as this beast.
He watched it swim strenuously, towing him down into the river's black depths. The Kappa had a shell on its back very much like a turtle's, and long, seaweed-like hair streamed behind its head as it powered downwards.
The crown of its head was hollow, a transparent bowl. It trapped iridescent white bubbles that bobbed in a sea of black brain fluid. The deeper they went, the more the bubbles roiled and multiplied, as if the increasing pressure of the depth stimulated them. The Kappa's sinewy grey-green arms and legs were spotted with patches of what looked like algae, and its fingers and toes, tipped with long pale claws, were heavily webbed.
Moon raised his free foot and stamped down at the creature's wrist. Would it have a release-nerve there, like humans? Thwarted by the drag of the water, he missed it, striking instead the clawed hand that gripped his ankle. The Kappa slowed its descent and looked up at him. Moonshadow gaped at his first clear glimpse of the water monster's face. It had a turtle-like beak, a tiny two-holed stump of a nose and large eyes similar to a frog's. Each eye was divided by a silvery slit for a pupil. As he stared, its turtle beak peeled open and between the gummy folds of its mouth, Moon saw the flash of rows of concealed teeth. Every tiny, dagger-sharp tooth slanted backwards.
He stamped at the Kappa's wrist again. This time his foot found its mark. The Kappa's grip broke and Moonshadow kicked wildly for the surface. Rising fast, he sensed the creature close behind him. He drove himself on, faster, up for the green light.
Moon burst from the water in a spray of foam and scrambled up the river bank, sliding and snatching at the muddy grass. Why was he not gasping for air? He touched his clothing, then his head. He was completely dry. How? And where was his attacker?
As he looked around warily, the surface of the river erupted again. The Kappa soared from the water and Moonshadow stumbled backwards as it landed right in front of him with a soggy flop.
The creature loomed, its silvery pupils dilating as they focused on Moon's face.
'Cucumbers,' the Kappa said, its voice low, wet and sludgy. 'Do you have any?'
'What?' Such a crazy question! Moon shook his head. 'No, why would I?'
The Kappa's head swayed to one side as if conceding his point. 'Then you die.'
It lunged at him, beak splaying open impossibly wide, each row of teeth snapping. Moon hurtled back but the Kappa darted after him and seized him by the shoulders. With overwhelming strength it pinned him to the riverbank. Its head angled, lank hair swishing, as it prepared to bite into his neck. The beak stretched, rows of teeth inside it working busily, gleaming as they came closer. Strangely weak and struggling vainly, Moonshadow closed his eyes. There was no escape. It had him; this was it!
He threw back his head and gave in to panic, shrieking long and loud.
The green-tinged starlight and everything under it was swallowed by black curtains that flutter ed in from all directions. Moon felt as though he was tumbling inside one of them, wrapped in its dark folds. With a bump something solid met his back.
Warily he forced an
eye open. For a few seconds, he could make no sense of what he saw. Then suddenly he knew it was real. Moonshadow let out a moan of intense relief.
The Kappa attack had been a nightmare, that was all. He was lying safely on the floor of his own room. Snowhawk was hunched over him, shaking his shoulders. Her face was red, clothes dark with sweat, but she appeared unharmed. Moon turned his head, chest still heaving with emotion. Snowhawk had re-lit the lamp in his room. Had she been here for some time? He peered around. Her pack and bedroll lay on the matting.
She released Moon's shoulders and he sat up. Pain stabbed his temples.
'Thank the gods.' She sighed with relief. 'I thought I might have been too late.'
'What . . . what just happened?' Moonshadow rubbed his eyes.
'We were both attacked, in very different ways. As soon as you can walk, we must get out of here.' Snowhawk wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. 'While the woman who attacked me is still asleep in the corridor outside my room.'
He stared at her. 'That sweet old innkeeper attacked you?'
Snowhawk's face darkened. 'What you saw was an Old Country disguise . . . a trick. Underneath it was the shinobi who attacked me. She called herself . . . Kagero.'
'The Kagero?' Moon frowned. 'Not the infamous freelance shinobi who –'
'I don't know.' Snowhawk began dragging him to his feet. 'I still can't believe she was the real Kagero, the same agent I used to hear Fuma trainers brag about.'
'Why not?' He looked around vaguely, massaging his temples.
'Because I'm still breathing,' Snowhawk said. 'Come on, get your stuff.'
They fled the inn and Snowhawk led him north out of town, keeping to the shadows of the roadside trees. She looked and sounded a little haggard, but still moved with her usual flitting agility. Moon struggled to keep up with her and felt that now he moved clumsily, making as much noise as an ordinary man. When Snowhawk finally slowed her pace, a good bowshot from town, he told her how he felt.
'That feeling will pass.' She pointed to his forehead. 'It's called The Haze. It's a side-effect of the attack.' Snowhawk gave a marvelling sigh. 'When you let out that cry I realised what was going on. It looked close. If I had tried waking you a moment later . . .'
He grabbed her arm. 'What was going on? What just happened to me?'
Snowhawk hung her head as if choosing her next words carefully. 'Have you ever heard of the Fuma Death Dream skill?' He shook his head. 'I'll bet your GLO trainers have. It's a very rare Old Country science. I only know about it because Clan Fuma once tried to teach it to me.'
'Tried?' Moon glanced back along the road, checking for signs of pursuit.
'Yes. Tried, and failed. Or rather I did,' she shrugged. 'They said my temperament made me unsuitable. So they switched me to learning shinobi hypnosis, which I picked up easily.' Snowhawk's mouth twitched into a half-smile. 'Strong natures usually do.'
'The Fuma Death Dream? How does it work?'
'It's a mind attack that comes at you in the form of a dream. Actually, it's a certain kind of trance your attacker forces upon you and then guides. It can be used in daylight on a conscious subject as well as on a sleeper. The rules are simple: if you cannot defeat the nightmare creature sent to attack you and nobody wakes you in time, your heart stops beating while you're in the trance-dream.'
'What?' Remembering the fury of the Kappa's attack, Moon wrapped his arms around himself. 'You mean it winds up fatal? It's not just to frighten or distract?'
Snowhawk shook her head. 'No, but to master it, you need a high degree of deep-mind stillness . . . great control over your thoughts. Perhaps that's why I wasn't a good candidate.' She gave a low, hollow laugh. 'After proving unsuitable for that science, many of the Fuma told me I was useless, only good for running errands down to the nearest village. But that kind of talk stopped smartly when I tried out my Kunoichi hypnosis for the first time . . . on one of my trainers.' She glowered. 'That shut them up.'
'Yes, well,' Moon nodded wearily. 'I myself know just how good at it you are.' They exchanged knowing glances and Snowhawk grinned. Moon rolled his eyes. 'First time you and I were alone in daylight,' he grumbled, 'do you realise how long I slept?'
'We weren't on the same side back then, that morning in the stable.' She took his arm and even in the scant light he could see her face tense with worry. 'I'm afraid there's one other piece of bad news about the Fuma Death Dream skill.'
'Oh, great,' Moonshadow checked the road again then stared at her. 'Now what? Even if you do get woken up in time, your head eventually explodes?'
'Worse,' she replied humourlessly. 'You know how I can sense the presence of other shinobi better than you can?'
He nodded. 'Much better than I can.'
'Well, those trained as dream assassins also learn a related skill. A very difficult but useful one. Again, only the still of mind can develop it.' Snowhawk took a deep breath. 'They neutralise the sensing powers of all nearby shinobi before they attack.'
'Are you serious?' A deep shudder went through him. 'That's actually possible?'
'As tonight proves. A dream assassin went after you and in the process stopped me sensing that the innkeeper was really a shinobi in disguise.'
'A dream assassin? Don't you mean Kagero?'
'No, because your nightmare continued even after I had left her unconscious. That means somebody else, someone we didn't even see, used their Death Dream skill on you.'
'If that's the case . . . if we've an unknown enemy who can stop you sensing them . . .' Moon shook his head slowly. 'We might as well be deaf.'
'We are deaf now. And we'll stay deaf on this mission.' Snowhawk raised a fist. 'Unless we find that dream killer and kill them.'
Moonshadow gave a bitter chuckle as they turned to go on. 'Why work so hard? Isn't it obvious? No matter what we do, he or she is going to find us.'
A rooster crowed three times in the distance, then the first bird warbled sweetly.
Brother Badger's eyes opened wide. He sat up sharply on his bedroll. It was still dark but the cold air held that tang of promise; a fresh morning would soon be born.
Saru-San jumped from his basket at the foot of Badger's bed, snorting, looking in all directions. Scratching one armpit, its face screwed-up, the monkey turned a circle.
Badger grunted. 'Calm down, there's nothing. It was just me.'
The monkey stared at him, head sagging to one side. Saru-San lifted his tail and passed gas with a long wheezing sound that ended with a dull futt. Then he lowered his tail, sighed very much the way Badger did, and fell sideways back into his basket.
Badger clambered to his feet with his nose pinched, his mind clearing fast.
He hated these moments. He would go to bed while working on some problem, be it tactical, historical or a matter of translation. Falling asleep, the riddle still unsolved, he'd look forward to an unbroken night of deep, dreamless slumber.
Instead, this phenomenon would occur. And here it was again. He had woken up because some other layer of his mind had been working on the problem while he had slept. Its solution had now reached the outer layer of the fruit, the conscious Badger. He wasn't sure how it worked. Had he borne the answer from some already forgotten dream? He grunted again. No matter. Wherever this idea came from, it was going to be tested.
Badger released his nostrils, tightened the light sleeping kimono around him and prepared a paper lantern on a stick. He lit its candle and hoisted the lantern high. Muttering absently, Badger crossed the corridor from his room into the archives.
There was not a stir from the rest of the Grey Light Order's Edo monastery. That won't keep for long, Badger told himself. He knew that when living among those who were shinobi-trained, even stone and wooden walls might as well be paper. Someone, or all of them, would hear him. At least they knew his step and they weren't the throw shuriken first, ask questions later types. Though Japan had its share of them, for sure.
He glided past the door to the map-dryin
g room and between tall rows of shelves, the glow of his lantern stroking the banks of scrolls and wooden trays of flip-books.
A gleam caught Badger's attention. He stopped and reached for its source. Filling his chest, he held the prized possession up to one eye. His brand new foreign magnifying glass, a personal gift from the Shogun. Gripping it possessively, he paced quickly into a different aisle of the archives, lamp high again, eyes hunting.
There: the lunar month's incoming despatches. He locked the lantern into a ringed holder set between the shelves, then raised the stitched wad of handmade papers in front of his eyes. With a flourish, Badger swept the magnifying glass over the topmost paper. Through its lens, the message's characters leapt forward, instantly vivid. Badger smiled wistfully. This surely was how he would see them if his eyes were still young and strong.
Badger pressed the magnifying glass to his chest. 'These modern days,' he murmured. 'Another wondrous device. Doubtful it could ever be improved upon.'
The wondrous device would enable close scrutiny of the wad's uppermost message. That was the last despatch they had received, the one that had sent the juniors on their way. Badger took the wad of papers and his eye-glass up to the lamp, carefully examining the top paper itself. He flipped to the next message, then more quickly to the one after it. Badger looked up, muttering a scholarly curse. His hunch was right. If only he'd seen this earlier! Before Moonshadow and Snowhawk had departed. But now –
Pacing quickly through a doorway to the base's main corridor, Badger came face-to-face with Eagle and Heron. Heron shielded her sensitive eyes from his lantern's light.
'Aw, not really invading pandas then,' Eagle said coolly, squinting at him. 'How can a brain that can speak and read so many languages simply not comprehend stealth?'
The Wrath of Silver Wolf Page 9