by Julie Kagawa
A smirk pulled at one corner of the ronin’s mouth. “It doesn’t matter how you put it, Taiyo-san,” he said, and though his expression was mocking, his voice was sad. “I’m no samurai. I’m still ronin, still a wild, honorless cur, and nothing will change that.”
Daisuke stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the ronin. “That is true,” he said quietly. “I have known many samurai. In the court, the capital and on bridges throughout the country, I have seen my share of honorable men. Their loyalty to the empire is irrefutable, they follow the tenets of Bushido religiously, their honor cannot be questioned. Like the petals of a sakura tree, they are flawless, perfect, irreproachable. And like the sakura petals…exactly the same. One can compose only so many poems about cherry blossoms before one grows tired of their flawlessness.”
Okame glanced up, a wary, almost hopeful frown crossing his face. Daisuke smiled and stepped closer; now only a couple feet separated the two men. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move or look away, despite the growing impatience from the fox beside me.
“Of late,” Daisuke murmured, “I find myself fascinated by the violent storms at sea, by the passion, the unpredictability and danger of it all. And by the eagles that soar over the mountaintops, wild and free, beholden to no one.” He paused, a slightly pained look crossing his face, before continuing. “It is…a dangerous thing, this curiosity,” he said in a low tone. “I am afraid that if I reach out to the eagle, it will savage me and fly away. But I cannot seem to stop myself.” He closed the last few feet between them, trapping Okame against the railing, his gaze intense. “If I am left with scars, then so be it.”
“Are you…sure about this, peacock?” Okame’s voice was husky. His lean body was frozen against the rails, as if fearing that any movement would shatter the dream around them. “I wouldn’t want to ruffle your family’s tail feathers, or bring dishonor to your entire house.”
In answer, Daisuke’s long fingers rose, tracing the side of the ronin’s face. Okame’s breath hitched, and he closed his eyes. For a moment, the noble hovered there, torn between leaning in and drawing away, as the dream itself seemed to hold its breath.
There was an impatient growl behind me, the feeling of being yanked back, though my body didn’t move. The bridge with the two men vanished, whipped away from me like a cloth covering a painting, replaced with another scene entirely. I let out a dismayed bark and turned on the white fox.
“Hey! What happened? Go back, I want to see how this ends.”
“That dreamer is not the reason we are here,” said the white fox calmly, though his tail lashed his flanks in irritation. “The night grows short, little fox, as does our time in Yume-no-Sekai. Do you wish to see your demonslayer before he wakes, or not?”
I pinned back my ears. Tatsumi, I thought guiltily. I’m coming. Don’t disappear on me yet. “I’m sorry,” I told the white fox. “Yes, I’m ready now. Take me to him.”
He nodded and turned away, and we slipped into the ever-changing shadows of the dreamworld.
PART 2
13
PROPHECY FOR A GHOST
Suki
Suki was restless. And not just because she was a ghost.
Lord Seigetsu was meditating again, sitting on his cushion between identical torch stands, next to the pond beneath the sakura trees. Same perfect picture, though Suki had no idea where they were or what was real anymore. Everything surrounding this mysterious, silver-haired man seemed dreamlike and surreal; just this morning, she had been riding in a beautiful carriage that, from what she could tell, flew on the wind. There had been no horses or servants carrying it, and neither Taka nor Lord Seigetsu appeared troubled by the fact that they were soaring among the clouds hundreds of feet in the air, but Suki had been so disturbed she could not hold on to her ghostly human form and spent the majority of the ride as a trembling ball of light in the corner.
When the carriage finally touched down, it was in the same perfectly groomed courtyard as before, though Suki had been too relieved to be on solid ground again to pay much attention to their surroundings. Lord Seigetsu immediately excused himself to meditate, with instructions not to disturb him, and Taka had wandered off to prepare a meal, leaving Suki floating there by herself.
She watched Seigetsu-sama for a few quiet minutes, but he was so very still, like a beautiful statue, or a painting that had been captured not on canvas but in the air itself. Not a breath of wind ruffled his clothes or tossed his long silver hair, as if even the air kami were obeying his wish not to be disturbed. Only his eyes flickered and moved beneath his closed lids, as if he was dreaming or in the throes of a nightmare. Briefly, Suki wondered what a man like Seigetsu-sama dreamed of. If he was a man at all.
“Suki-chan!”
Taka’s voice drew her attention, and she turned to see the little yokai waving to her beneath the trunk of a twisted pine. Drifting over, she saw that Taka had rolled out a bamboo mat and arranged a full tea set and several plates of food atop it. Fried tofu, red azuki beans and a platter of colorful mochi-rice cakes surrounded the lacquered tea tray, filling Suki with a sense of longing. She remembered the sweetness of a mochi ball, the simple pleasure of sipping tea on a cold winter night, feeling warmth seep into her fingers. Things she would never experience again.
“There you are, Suki-chan,” Taka said as she joined him under the pine tree. “I didn’t know if you still ate food, so I made extra just in case. Can you…?” He gave her an expectant look, but Suki smiled sadly and shook her head, making him blink. “Oh, that’s too bad,” he murmured. “Forgive me, Suki-chan. I don’t think I would like being a ghost.” He raised his chopsticks, then selected a pink mochi ball from the platter and stuck it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “Well, please enjoy yourself anyway, Suki-chan. Lord Seigetsu will be joining us soon. He is always hungry after meditating.”
Suki looked back toward Seigetsu, noting the faint glow surrounding the man, before drifting down to sit beside Taka. Unease gnawed at her, like the feeling of being lost in a dream, the sensation that the world around her wasn’t quite normal. Of course, she was a yurei, so perhaps this odd nightmare world of yokai and flying carriages was something only ghosts experienced.
Why am I here? Suki wondered in a rippling burst of clarity. Am I doing something wrong? Why haven’t I moved on?
“Brr.” Taka suddenly shivered and rubbed his arms. “That’s strange, it got cold all of a sudden,” he muttered. “Suki-chan, did you feel…?”
She turned to face him, and Taka jerked, then went as rigid as a steel pole. His huge eye widened, glazing over, the pupil expanding until nothing was left but darkness. That terrifyingly blank gaze fixed on Suki, as his mouth gaped open and a hissing voice emerged.
“Lost soul,” he rasped, and Suki shrank back from him, nearly losing her human form as she did. “The chains of longing cannot be undone, the flute snaps in the shadow of a god and the world grows red with blood. The white-haired prince seeks a battle he cannot win. He will break upon the demon’s sword, and his dog will follow him unto death.”
Terrified, Suki floated back and felt a shadow fall over her from behind. Shivering, she turned to gaze into Seigetsu-sama’s amused golden eyes.
“And she comes into the story at last.” His voice was a caress, gentle but triumphant at the same time. “I was wondering if it was you,” he continued, as Suki floated there in abject fear and confusion. “If you were indeed the ‘lost soul’ Taka had glimpsed from time to time.” One corner of his mouth curled in subtle amusement. “Deciphering his visions is an art in itself, one that has taken me many years to perfect, and even then, I must work within the bounds of metaphor and vagueness. They are usually not quite so literal.”
Suki trembled. Part of her wanted to fly away from this man and his frightening, terrible predictions of the future. Claims that she was part of something much greater, something she didn’t understand, terrified her. She was a simple maid, and t
he ghost of a maid at that. She was too insignificant to play a part in his grand story, whatever it was.
At the same time, a tiny voice of curiosity rose to the back of her mind, breaking through the fear and confusion. Could she, a simple maid, be important in death as she never was in life? Was this why she had lingered?
“You needn’t fear this, hitodama.” Abruptly, Lord Seigetsu stepped around her and lowered himself to one knee on the blanket. Startled, Suki watched as he eased the limp, shivering Taka onto his back and placed a hand on his forehead. “All souls have a destiny. Some are simply brighter than others. It is very difficult to change one’s fate, even if one knows about it. Sleep, Taka.”
A tremor went through the yokai’s body, before he relaxed. His mouth fell open, and a raspy snore emerged between sharp fangs. Seigetsu watched the slumbering yokai a moment, before rising with the fluidity of water and turning to Suki again.
“The future is a very fickle mistress,” he said. “Think of it as millions of streams, running into each other, crisscrossing, forming an endless network of rivers. If you dam one stream, it does not simply stop. It changes course and runs into another, which might also overflow its banks, thus disrupting yet another stream. Sometimes the results are negligible. Sometimes they are catastrophic. For many years, I have tended those streams, carefully nudged them in the direction they needed to go. I have guided the souls that required my help, and removed the ones that would hinder them. And now, we are nearing the end of a very long shogi match, and all the pieces are finally in place.” His golden eyes seemed to bore into her, brilliant and mesmerizing. “I would prefer to have all the pieces in my hand, but I realize I cannot force you to stay. So I will offer this instead. I know why you linger, hitodama. Why you cannot move on.”
Suki jerked up, eyes widening. Thinking, of course, of Lady Satomi, and the death that had started everything. Seigetsu simply smiled.
“It has nothing to do with vengeance,” he continued, as if reading Suki’s thoughts. “Or justice, or any emotion regarding your own demise. Were that the case, you would have disappeared as soon as Lady Satomi left the world. The answer to why you linger can be found in the prophecy Taka gave you tonight.”
Frowning, Suki thought back, trying to remember. Truthfully, she had been so startled when Taka turned that blankeyed stare on her that she had barely heard the words he’d spoken. Something about chains and darkness, and a god staining the land in blood…
The flute snaps in the shadow of a god.
Everything inside her went very still. The swirling thoughts ceased, the flickering emotions calmed. One memory came to her, as clear and distinct as blood against the snow: the high, sweet sound of a flute, and the most beautiful, pale-haired man turning to smile at her.
The white-haired prince seeks a battle he cannot win.
“Yes,” Seigetsu murmured, his voice seeming to come from a great distance away. “Now you understand. Your tie to this world had nothing to do with vengeance, or anger, or justice. It is not revenge that keeps you here, but longing. Love.” He shook his head. “The most dangerous of human emotions.”
Suki was too dazed to even try to answer. Thinking back to that terrible night, she suddenly remembered that, right before the demon tore her apart, she had cried out to Daisuke-sama. Knowing he wouldn’t save her, that he was so far above her station she would never even have crossed his mind, she had called his name, his face the last thing she’d envisioned before she left the world of the living.
“I do not envy you, little hitodama.” Seigetsu stepped back, giving her a look of sympathy. “Vengeance is easily rectified. Unrequited love is far more difficult. Now we know why your destiny is tangled with his, with all of them. The half-fox and the demonslayer move ever closer to the end, and the fate of millions of souls follow in their wake. Including the Taiyo noble, who has sworn to protect the half-fox with his life. Though it appears that his destiny will catch up to him very soon.”
Suki raised her head, and Seigetsu smiled grimly. “Did you not hear what was foretold? He will break upon the demon’s sword, and his dog will follow him unto death.” His voice softened, unbearably gentle in its finality. “Taiyo Daisuke is fated to die in battle, Suki. When it happens is not certain, but the time is not far. Perhaps when he dies, you can finally move on, continue your journey to Meido or wherever it is your soul is destined.” He shrugged one lean, elegant shoulder. “Or perhaps you will linger in this realm for all time, a restless, wandering soul unable to find peace. As I said before, vengeance is easy. One can never be certain with an emotion as dangerous and unpredictable as love.”
“No.”
Seigetsu raised a brow at the strangled whisper that came from Suki’s mouth. She stared up at him, anguish a burning, twisting knife below her breast, forcing the words to spill from her lips. “Can…it be…changed?” she whispered. Her voice was breathy, broken with disuse, but she forced herself to continue. “Can we…warn him…somehow?”
Seigetsu gave her a long, level stare, making ghostly snakes writhe and coil in the pit of her stomach, before one corner of his mouth curled. “Fate is a fickle mistress,” he said again. His voice was soft, as if he feared Destiny itself might be listening. “It has a way of protecting itself, and the outcomes, of those caught in its stream. One must know just how far to push, how much to change, to divert the flow of the future. However, as I said before, I am too heavily invested in this game to make mistakes, and I would rather have all the pieces in my sight, rather than wandering the winds.” He held out a hand, and his smile was like the promise of the sun. “Fox, demon, dog, priestess, blade. If one falls now, the game is lost. Let us see if we cannot change the fate of your white-haired prince.”
14
CASTLE OF NIGHTMARES
The Demonslayer
I was lost.
The halls of the castle surrounded me, dark and abandoned. Shadows clustered along the walls and polished floors, thrown back by the occasional lantern and stream of moonlight through the windows. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by my own whispering footsteps, as if I was the only living soul here. How long had I been wandering this place? I was supposed to be hunting…something, but I couldn’t remember what. Still, I had to complete my mission. I could not return to the Shadow Clan without finishing my objective, whatever it was.
Turning a corner, I stared in dismay at the statue of the demon at the end of the hall, its fanged maw open in a grin. I had come upon this same statue numerous times. No matter where I turned or which direction I went, I always seemed to find myself back here.
A sense of weariness crept over me. I was going in circles, with no objective and no sense of direction. How long would I be here, wandering this endless castle, aimlessly drifting down empty corridors like a shadow, only to end where I had started?
Angrily, I shook myself, dissolving the hopelessness and the numbing fatigue that had settled deep in my bones. I could not give up. I was the Kage demonslayer, and this was my job. No matter the obstacles and difficulties in my path, even if they proved impossible, I was expected to complete my mission. Failure was never an option.
As I drew back, ready to turn down another hallway once more, a whisper of sound shushed behind me, the faintest hiss of footsteps over polished wood. I spun, my blade clearing its sheath in an instant, ready to cut through whatever monster had crept up on me.
A girl stood at the end of the hall, staring at me with wide dark eyes. And for a moment, for perhaps the first time in my life, my muscles froze and my mind went blank with shock.
Yu…Yumeko?
The sword in my hand trembled. I lowered my arm, hardly believing she was there. I had the fleeting thought that this was a trick, an illusion conjured by the seemingly malicious castle to show me what I desperately wanted to see. But…it was Yumeko. She glowed in the darkness of the corridor, dressed in a white robe trimmed in red, her shining hair falling around her shoulders. Despite the impossibility
of it all, something inside me leaped up, as if recognizing what it had been searching for all along.
“Tatsumi.” Her voice was a whisper, soft with relief. She stepped forward, and the dark hallway seemed to ripple as she passed, like the surface of a pond that had been disturbed. As if the castle was merely a shadow, a reflection, and she was the one that was real. I couldn’t move, could only watch as the girl drew close, seeing my own reflection in her dark eyes.
“I found you.”
One hand rose, and a shiver went through me as her fingers gently brushed my cheek, her gaze searching, as if making certain I, too, was real. Almost against my will, my eyes closed and my body relaxed, submitting to her touch.
“Yokatta,” she whispered, expressing her relief. “Tatsumi-san, you’re all right. I’m so glad. I thought Hakaimono might have…”
Hakaimono?
A flicker of apprehension went through me at the name, a memory just out of reach. Why would she bring up Hakaimono? Did she know about the demon in the sword? Had I…told her of my link with Kamigoroshi? I tried to think, to remember what had passed between us, but my thoughts were scattered, like moths flitting around a light, and I couldn’t settle on any of them.
“Yumeko.” Reaching up, I took her hand, curling my fingers around hers. Her skin was smooth, her hand light and delicate beneath my palm, and my stomach tightened. For a moment, I had to catch my breath. “You need to leave,” I told her softly. “You can’t be here now. There’s a…” I paused, still unable to remember why I had come, what I was supposed to be hunting. “There’s something dangerous roaming this castle,” I finished. “I have to find it. I can’t have you following me.”
She shook her head. “No, Tatsumi-san, listen to me. This is a dream.” Dropping her arm, she took my hands, gazing up at me. “You’re dreaming right now. None of this is real.”