Soul of the Sword

by Julie Kagawa

  A dream? I frowned. No, that couldn’t be right. Master Ichiro sent me here to…

  I faltered. I couldn’t remember why I was here. I didn’t recall a conversation with Master Ichiro, or any details regarding this mission. And the more I thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. I was the Kage demonslayer. I did not forget.

  “This is a dream,” Yumeko insisted. “Think back, Tatsumi-san. Do you remember Lady Satomi’s castle? The five of us went there to find Master Jiro. Do you remember what happened?”

  Master Jiro. The name was familiar, as was Lady Satomi. I closed my eyes, trying to still the memories that flitted around my head. “Lady Satomi…was a blood witch,” I said slowly. “We met her at the emperor’s party and followed her through a mirror to a castle on the other side.” Yumeko squeezed my hands, assuring me that I was right, encouraging me to go on. “There was…an oni,” I continued, frowning as more pieces of the night came back to me. “Yaburama. I fought him, and then…”

  And then…

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach. My hands shook, and I staggered back as memory rushed in, drenching me in an icy wave. The moment I lost control, the demon’s howl of triumph as he rushed into my mind. “Hakaimono,” I whispered, feeling Yumeko’s gaze on me. “I’m still…”

  Numb, I leaned against the wall, as everything came flooding back. Hakaimono was free. I had failed to keep him contained, and now he was threatening not only the Shadow Clan, but the whole empire. My blood chilled as I remembered his threats against the Kage, the slaughter he had caused already and the mass carnage that would happen if he couldn’t be stopped.

  I felt Yumeko draw close again, a bright, solid presence against the hanging darkness. “Tatsumi, listen,” she said, as I looked up and again saw my reflection, bleak and anguished, in her eyes. “We’re coming for you,” she went on. “I won’t let Hakaimono win. We’re going to find you, trap Hakaimono and force him back into Kamigoroshi.”

  “No.” My voice sounded strangled in my ears. Stepping forward, I gripped her forearms, making her blink. “Yumeko, if you face Hakaimono alone, you’re going to die. Everyone who challenges him is going to die. You have to kill him.”

  “Tatsumi—”

  “Please.” The intensity in my voice sounded strange, like it belonged to someone else. “There’s not much time,” I continued. “Take this message to the Shadow Clan, the emperor and any who will listen. Hakaimono is free, and he has formed an alliance with Genno, the Master of Demons.”

  “Genno?” Her eyes widened, indicating that she recognized the name. I didn’t doubt she’d heard of him; the Master of Demons was the most famous and feared blood mage in the history of Iwagoto. Even Yumeko, with her sheltered upbringing, would have learned of the man who nearly destroyed the empire.

  “But…Genno is dead,” Yumeko argued. “That all happened four hundred years ago, didn’t it?”

  “He has returned,” I said. “His soul has been summoned from Jigoku and bound to the mortal realm. He has an army of demons and yokai waiting in the ruins of his old castle. The only reason he hasn’t attacked the empire is because he has no body, so he is not at his full strength. Hakaimono intends to fix that…by giving him the Dragon scroll.”

  The blood drained from her face. She slumped in my grip, and I suspected she might have fallen if I hadn’t been holding on to her. “Hakaimono,” she whispered, “is going after the Dragon scroll?”

  I nodded. “He knows where the Steel Feather temple is,” I said, and she went even paler. “He’s on his way there now. If you don’t stop him, he’s going to slaughter everyone and take the pieces of the scroll back to the Master of Demons. Genno already has one fragment of the prayer. If he acquires the others and summons the Dragon, the empire will be thrown into chaos. You have to stop him.”

  “How…” Yumeko still seemed a bit dazed. Carefully, I released her arms, letting her stand on her own, and waited until she met my eyes again.

  “Kill me,” I told her softly. “It’s the only way. Before Hakaimono reaches the scroll. End my life, and send Hakaimono back into the sword.”

  She jerked back, a look of dismay crossing her face. “No,” she whispered. “I won’t kill you. Tatsumi, please don’t ask this of me.” She stepped forward, her gaze beseeching, and my heart clenched painfully in my chest. “We can save you,” she insisted. “Just give us a chance.”

  “You can’t exorcise him.” I made a hopeless gesture, shaking my head. “The Shadow Clan has tried. Our best priests and most powerful majutsushi have attempted to exorcise Hakaimono in the past. He’s too strong. No one has ever succeeded—the last time they attempted it, Hakaimono freed himself and slaughtered everyone present. I can’t…watch that happen to you.”

  Yumeko set her jaw, her gaze defiant. I knew she was going to refuse again, thinking she could save me from Hakaimono, and desperation rose to curl with the despair. Hakaimono had already slaughtered several members of my clan, and I could do nothing to stop it. I knew his ultimate plan was to wipe the Kage from existence, and I would have to watch, helpless, as he destroyed them all. And if Genno summoned the Dragon and rose to power, I would be responsible for the fall of the entire empire. My honor was gone, my soul tainted beyond all redemption. But the thought of her dying, of facing the sadistic First Oni only to be killed by my own hand, was too much. He wouldn’t just kill her; he would torture her, make her suffer, because he knew it would affect me. And he would never let me forget.

  I hesitated, then sank to my knees before her and bowed my head, hearing her sharp intake of breath. “Please,” I said softly. “I will beg if I must. I cannot be the instrument that allows Genno to rise again. I cannot be the catalyst that brings about the destruction of the Shadow Clan. And I…” My voice faltered; I had to pause, swallowing the tightness in my throat before continuing on, “I cannot watch him kill you, Yumeko,” I whispered. “Hakaimono knows…how important you are. He would take great pleasure in making you suffer. Of all the atrocities he has committed, if you died by my hand…” I shuddered. “I would rather cut open my stomach than live with that.”

  Yumeko remained silent. I could feel the weight of her gaze on me, solemn and helpless, perhaps realizing the truth of my words. “My life is worth nothing,” I went on, still staring at the ground between us. “If my death means ending the threat of the First Oni and the second coming of the Master of Demons, I offer it gladly. But I can’t do it myself.” I lowered myself even farther, the fingertips of one hand touching the ground. “Kill me, Yumeko,” I whispered. “End my life, and drive Hakaimono back into the sword for good.”

  For a few heartbeats, there was silence. Then a soft rustle as Yumeko knelt in front of me, and a moment later her cool palm pressed against my cheek.

  “I won’t let him have you,” she whispered in a fierce voice. “Your life is worth something—to me.” Her other hand touched my face, making me shiver. “Look at me, Tatsumi-san. Really look at me, and tell me what you see.”

  I dragged my gaze to hers and met a pair of glimmering golden eyes. Startled, I drew back slightly, and Yumeko’s outline seemed to blur for a moment, like I was seeing her through water or heavy smoke. The haziness faded, and I was staring into the golden eyes of a fox, black-tipped ears and bushy tail standing out in my peripheral vision.

  Kitsune. Yumeko was kitsune. Somehow, I had forgotten. Her posture was stiff, as if she was waiting for me to recoil, and I remembered the night Hakaimono had taken over, he had gleefully taunted the fox girl, telling her that I could see exactly what she was now, and that I despised her for it.

  I didn’t. I had been surprised of course, stunned that I had been traveling with a fox, a yokai, since the night I’d saved her from the demons. But even that paled to the consuming horror and rage I’d felt toward myself for allowing Hakaimono to break free. The identity of the fox girl was far less concerning than the demon possessing my body. And Yumeko being kitsune…It wasn’t all that surprising, really
. I remembered the times she’d spoken to the kami, all the instances where she could see spirits and yurei as easily as the mortal world. Many small things, seemingly insignificant at the time, had fallen into place. The fact that she was a fox, a yokai, should have angered and disgusted me, but Yumeko was…Yumeko. Kitsune or human, she was still the same.

  Yumeko smiled, though it was a slightly sad smile, as if she knew something between us had shattered, and could never be put back together. “I’m asking you to trust me,” she said in a soft voice. “Not as Yumeko the peasant girl, but as a kitsune who swore she wouldn’t let the demon win. Hakaimono is strong, but strength does not automatically win battles, and there are a few tricks he hasn’t seen. I’m not giving up. I just need you to wait for me a little longer.”

  “What are you planning to do?” I whispered.

  For a moment, she looked troubled, almost embarrassed. Her gaze dropped, and the tip of her tail beat an agitated rhythm against the floor. “I need your permission, Tatsumi-san,” she said, to my confusion. “Everyone has told me that a normal exorcism won’t work on the First Oni, that he’s too strong for anything to work from the outside. So, when we reach Hakaimono, I plan to face him…from within.”

  It took only a moment to realize what she was saying. “Kitsune-tsuki,” I murmured, and she nodded, wincing. “Yumeko,” I said gently, “Hakaimono won’t be any easier to defeat inside me. If anything, his soul will be even more powerful.”

  “I know,” she whispered, and her ears flattened in open fear. “But I’m going to do it. I just…want you to know that I’m coming, Tatsumi-san. And that I’ll fight for you, as hard as I can. I’ll free your soul from Hakaimono, one way or another.”

  My chest felt tight. No one in my seventeen years of existence had cared so much to try to save me. I was nothing; a weapon of the Kage, trained to kill and to obey. If I died on a mission, the only loss to the Shadow Clan was that they would have to find a new demonslayer. No one would remember me. No one would mourn my passing. To give my life in service to the clan was an honor, and the price of failure was death. That was how it had always been.

  Looking into Yumeko’s fierce, determined face, seeing the promise burning in her eyes, made my stomach churn with emotions I couldn’t even place. That this girl would face a demon lord, the strongest oni in Jigoku, to save the worthless, tainted soul of an assassin…“And if you can’t drive him out?” I asked. “If Hakaimono is in danger of stealing the scroll and killing everyone who stands between it and him?”

  Her eyes closed. “If there is no other way,” she whispered, and her voice was a little choked. “If I cannot stop him, then I…I will honor your request, Tatsumi. If I must…I will end your life, and Hakaimono’s. The First Oni will not reach the scroll, I promise.”

  I bowed my head, fisting my hands on my knees. “Arigatou,” I murmured. “If this is what you’ve decided, Yumeko, then I’ll wait for you. And…I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “For what you’re going to have to face to reach me.”

  “I’m not afraid.” She shifted closer, placing her hands over mine. I looked up and found her face a breath away, golden eyes shining as they met my own. “If it means I’ll see you again, I’ll fight a dozen Hakaimonos.” She blinked, and atop her head, her ears twitched nervously. “There’s only one, right?”

  My heart pounded, and I drew in a slow breath to calm it. “As far as I know.”

  “Oh, good,” Yumeko whispered, and slumped a bit in relief. “Because more would be terrifying, now that I think about it.”

  A tremor went through me. Unbidden, my hand rose and brushed the hair from her cheek, my fingers trailing across her skin. Yumeko didn’t move, holding my gaze, and the trust I saw in those golden fox eyes made my breath catch. She smiled at me, just the smallest curve of her lips, answering my unspoken question, and the last of my resolve crumbled to dust. Almost without thinking, I leaned forward.

  But as soon as I moved, the girl flickered, like a candle caught in a strong breeze. Frowning, I drew back, seeing her sputter again, her presence gone and reappearing in a blink. “Yumeko? What’s happening?”

  Yumeko looked equal parts stricken and apologetic. “Gomen, Tatsumi-san,” she said, grimacing as she flickered once more. “I told you we were in the dream world, right? I’m sorry, but I think I’m about to wake—”

  And she was gone.

  I knelt, alone, in the halls of an abandoned castle, staring at the spot where a kitsune girl had been moments before. I could feel myself fading, as well, the reality around me fraying as my consciousness began to stir. Already, the world seemed darker, colder, without the presence of a cheerful fox girl. I wondered if I would truly see her again, if she would hunt me down as she promised, before I grew angry at my own weakness. It would be better for everyone if she stayed away, far from me and the demon possessing my body. Yumeko was brave, resourceful and had many kitsune tricks she could call upon, but she had never faced a foe as terrible as Hakaimono. I would rather the Kage track us down and kill us both than watch Hakaimono tear the kitsune girl in half and laugh at me for daring to hope.

  Around me, the castle was growing less substantial, less real, by the second. I knew I could open my eyes anytime I wished, but for several heartbeats, I didn’t move, wanting the dream to last as long as it could.

  For me, the nightmare would continue as soon as I woke up.

  15

  TEA WITH MY ENEMY

  Yumeko

  “Hakaimono is going after the Dragon scroll.”

  Silence followed my announcement, four pairs of eyes staring at me in alarm and disbelief. At my insistence, we had all gathered in Master Jiro’s room, with Reika’s ofuda firmly across the doors to prevent eavesdropping. It was still very early morning; the castle was still dark, and Okame had frozen with his mouth open midyawn, Daisuke looked grim and Reika’s cheeks had gone deathly pale. Master Jiro sat motionless in the corner, flanked by Chu and Ko. I saw his withered fingers tighten around his staff.

  “Are you certain of this?” Reika was the first to speak, her voice matching the expression of horrified disbelief on her face. “How do you know the First Oni is going after the Dragon scroll?”

  “I…had a dream.” At their incredulous looks, I hurried on. “I went to Yume-no-Sekai, the realm of dreams, and I saw…” My face heated, remembering the other incidents that happened while I was with the white kitsune in the dream realm. “Well, Tatsumi was there, too,” I went on. “He told me that Hakaimono intended to seek out the Dragon scroll, and that we had to stop him before he could reach it.”

  “The demonslayer met you…in a dream?” Daisuke said slowly. He and Okame sat side by side, I suddenly noticed, their knees almost touching. Neither seemed to notice the proximity, but perhaps I was seeing too much in it. “You spoke to Tatsumi-san directly?”

  I nodded. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I really did speak to him.”

  “But…demons have no use for the Dragon scroll,” Reika argued. “They can’t summon the Harbinger or use the Wish. Only a mortal soul can do that. Why would Hakaimono suddenly want the Dragon scroll?”

  “It’s not for him,” I told her. “It’s for Genno, the Master of Demons.”

  Okame choked on his sake jug. Coughing, he bent over, gasping for breath, while the rest of us looked on in mild alarm. “Sorry,” he gasped, sitting up again. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his red, bleary gaze met mine. “Very clever, Yumeko-chan,” he told me. “You almost had me fooled. At least now we know it was just a dream.”

  “I’m serious, Okame-san.” I frowned at the ronin, pinning back my ears. “The Master of Demons has returned, and he sent Hakaimono for the Dragon scroll. He’s on his way to the Steel Feather temple right now.”

  “Genno.” Okame put down the sake jug and gave me a dubious look. “The guy from the history scrolls who raised an army of demons and undead horrors to overthrow the empire? Whose exploits were so heinous t
hey inspired the Oni’s Night festival with a parade of ‘monsters’ fleeing the city? That Genno?”

  “There is only one Master of Demons, ronin,” Reika snapped. “Unless you can think of a different blood mage with an undead army who nearly destroyed the empire, I believe we are talking about the same person.”

  “The same person in books, poems and Kabuki theater.” Okame frowned at the shrine maiden. “Myth and legends tend to get bigger and more exaggerated the longer they endure. Didn’t the real Master of Demons die over half a century ago?”

  “Four hundred years ago.” This from Master Jiro, his pipe held thoughtfully to his chin, Chu and Ko at his side. “And unfortunately, the legend of the Master of Demons is a pale comparison to the real thing. The stories all focus more on the exploits of the heroes who opposed him, rather than the man himself. The empire loves tales of honor and sacrifice, brave warriors fighting against the impossible and triumphing in the end, usually by giving their lives for the cause. Like the story of General Katsutomo’s final stand at the Valley of Spirits.”

  “A moving and riveting tale,” Daisuke broke in. “The battle of Tani Hitokage is a legend, an exciting and bloody tale for Kabuki theater, of which the Silken Dance troop in Seiryu City gave an exemplary performance last summer.” He gave a tiny sigh, sounding wistful for a moment. “Ah, Mizu Subato, your portrayal of Katsutomo’s noble death could make even a stone weep.”

  “Yes,” Master Jiro said, sounding less impressed. “As you can see, the empire loves a tragic hero’s story, and the tales surrounding the Master of Demons are full of them. However, the truth of Genno’s rise and final defeat is far more grim. The empire nearly fell. The Master of Demons and his army marched straight through the capital to the Imperial palace virtually unopposed, slaughtering and burning everything on their way.”