by Julie Kagawa
“I’ve never been to a tea ceremony,” I mused as we all stood to leave the room. “Jin and Master Isao used to have them occasionally, but Denga said I was forbidden from attending until he was certain I would not sneak all the sweets for later or make the teapot dance around the room.” I sniffed. “I only did the teapot thing twice. Denga-san never let me forget anything.”
Reika winced and gave both me and Okame a resigned look. “Why do I have the feeling this isn’t going to go well at all?”
Okame was right. The tea ceremony was incredibly dull. And long. I had thought we would attend Lord Iesada’s gathering, have a cup of tea and then politely excuse ourselves. But the actual ceremony started in the morning and continued into early afternoon. We were escorted to a designated tea room, where Lord Iesada waited for us, and knelt on pillows while we watched the tea-master first bring the utensils into the room one by one. It was then a lot of greeting and bowing, watching the utensils cleaned, and waiting for the tea-master to prepare the tea, carefully spooning in the bright green tea powder and adding spoonfuls of hot water, before whisking it into a froth. I nibbled on a plate of sweet rice cakes that had been set before us and tried hard not to fidget. When the tea was finally ready, a single bowl was used to serve the tea to guests: one person took their time admiring the bowl and the tea itself, before turning the bowl to the left and taking one contemplative sip. He then wiped the rim with a special cloth and passed it to the next guest, who did the same. It was a terribly bitter tea; I held my breath as I swallowed, choked out a comment about the delightful flavor and hurriedly passed the tea to Okame. Then we had to watch the tea-master clean the bowl and the utensils again, slowly and with the utmost care, before the entire process could start once more.
“I am curious,” Lord Iesada said, in the space between waiting for the next round of tea to be served. “You all traveled with the Kage demonslayer for a time. Tell me, how is it he did not kill you to a man?”
I jerked, causing Reika to give me a sharp look over the tatami mats. Fortunately, Daisuke sat closest to Lord Iesada, and gave him a serene smile.
“An interesting topic, Iesada-sama,” he said in a voice of cool politeness. “I myself am curious as to why one would bring up the subject of your clan’s demonslayer. Please forgive my ignorance—in the Sun lands, the topic of demons is considered unfit for polite conversation.”
I reached for another sweet, a bright pink rice cake wrapped in a leaf, and let the flavor melt away the bitter taste in my mouth. Okame caught my gaze and rolled his eyes, and I bit back a grin.
“Ah, forgive me,” continued Lord Iesada, his own voice unruffled. “I forget that in the Sun lands, everything is far brighter and safer than in our humble lands of Shadow. The people there do not have to fear the dark, nor the creatures that lurk within. Often I wish our own samurai knew such peace and frivolity, but alas, such danger is part of our everyday lives. I meant no offense, of course.”
“Of course,” Daisuke replied, still smiling. “Certainly, it is understandable that the Kage can sometimes struggle with the concepts of etiquette and social graces. Being so far from Sun lands and the Imperial capital must be a terrible burden for your clan. Lady Hanshou must be commended for doing so much with so little.”
I shifted my weight on the pillow, absently twirling the discarded leaf between my fingers. Beside me, I heard Okame’s bored, barely audible sigh. Without looking at me, he pointed to the black iron teapot sitting on the brazier, then waggled two fingers in a strange, dancing motion. Reika, unfortunately, caught the gesture, and very slightly turned her head, pinning me with a tight-lipped, wide-eyed look that very clearly said do not dare.
“Taiyo-san is too kind.” Lord Iesada’s voice held a bit of an edge now, before his cold black gaze shifted to me. “But what does our esteemed guest have to say regarding the demonslayer?” he purred. “I understand she traveled all the way to the capital with him. Did he do anything to put you in danger? Did you know he had a demon lurking inside his sword, waiting to be unleashed?”
I lightly cupped the leaf in my fingers, hiding it in my palm as a flutter of fox magic went through the air. “He saved my life,” I told the Kage lord. “The road was very dangerous, yes, but I wouldn’t have survived if not for Tatsumi-san.”
“Tatsumi-san, is it?” Lord Iesada looked amused. “I had not realized you and the demonslayer had grown so close. Perhaps you think you owe him a debt of gratitude, then?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Do not bother. The demonslayer is naught but a weapon. A tool that the Shadow Clan uses to slay dangerous monsters and yokai, because he is as much a monster as the creatures he hunts. He has no feelings, no emotion, no personal honor. He is barely human. You might as well owe a debt of gratitude to an ox cart for carrying you to the next town.”
“I’m sorry, Lord Iesada, but you’re wrong.”
Lord Iesada raised both pencil-thin eyebrows in either shock or outrage. “Excuse me?” he exclaimed.
“Tatsumi isn’t just a weapon,” I said. “He’s not an unfeeling monster. He was brave and honorable, and was constantly worried about Hakaimono. And he was worried about Hakaimono because he didn’t want to hurt me, or bring shame to the Shadow Clan. That isn’t the mind-set of a creature who is barely human.”
Lord Iesada stared at me, eyes glittering. “You are quite bold for a woman, and a peasant,” he said at last, managing a tight smile. “Consider yourself lucky that you are Hanshou-sama’s honored guest, for in my estate such audacity would not be tolerated. I shall tell you a simple truth about Lady Hanshou’s demonslayers. They are monsters, because we train them to be monsters.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Do you wish to know how the Kage demonslayer is created? When one demonslayer dies, a boy is chosen from the ranks of our kami-touched to become the next bearer of the Cursed Blade. He goes through intense training to purge all weaknesses from his mind and body, and to prepare his soul for the intrusion of Hakaimono. The demands on his body are harsh—some say too harsh—but it is nothing compared to what his mind must endure every single day. Some boys do not survive. Some go mad, trying to resist the constant presence of Hakaimono. Some die from the rigors of training, torn apart by yokai, or succumbing to wounds inflicted by their own sensei. In fact, I believe that only one in four boys lives through the initial few months. The rest die in agony, or are killed because they could not resist Hakaimono. Talented, kami-touched boys who could have become honorable samurai instead waste their lives to feed that cursed sword and the demon that inhabits it. And those who do make it through the process have been irrevocably changed. They are no longer human. They are simply vessels for Hakaimono’s power, a hand that wields Kamigoroshi in the name of the Kage.”
Lord Iesada paused a moment to pluck a colorful rice ball from the plate with his chopsticks, admire the color and fragrance, and pop it into his mouth. “So,” he said, dabbing his lips with a silk napkin. “Now you understand. The demon Hakaimono is a monster that must be stopped, and it is the duty of the Kage to bring him down. That the oni has been freed and is rampaging through the country has already brought shame and dishonor upon the Shadow Clan. Hanshou-sama knows this—to suggest that she would seek aid from those outside the Kage is an absurd notion. Why, if any were to meddle in our affairs, we would have to respond to such an insult in force.” He smiled coldly across the tatami mats. “But my apologies, I speak of clouds that have not yet formed, and rain that has not yet fallen. I am certain Lady Hanshou has the matter of Hakaimono in hand. Let us return to more pleasant subjects, yes?”
I was still getting used to the flowery idioms and roundabout phrases of the nobles of court, but I was fairly sure Lord Iesada had just threatened us. Or at least, warned us not to go after Tatsumi. Anger flickered. They could say what they liked; I was going to save Tatsumi, even if I had to dodge Shadow Clan shinobi the entire way to the Steel Feather temple.
“Taiyo-san,” Lord Iesada contin
ued, reaching for a rice cake with his chopsticks. “Have you tasted Noriko-san’s mochi balls yet? I simply insist that you try them—they have the most delicate fragrance…”
He plucked a pink rice ball from the plate, and a furry brown head poked up, whiskers twitching as the sweet was removed. Lord Iesada let out a yelp, jerking his hand back, as the tiny rodent darted from the plate, zipped up to the lord and vanished into the folds of his hakama.
“Nezumi!” The Kage lord leaped to his feet, flapping his arms so that his sleeves whipped about like sails in the wind. Wide-eyed, we watched the noble flail wildly, shaking his legs and slapping at his hakama with his fan. The mouse didn’t reappear, though a tattered rice ball leaf came loose and fluttered to the ground near Lord Iesada’s feet. No one seemed to notice it.
Finally, when the mouse didn’t appear to be hiding in his hakama, Lord Iesada straightened and with great dignity turned to bow at us. “Please forgive my outburst,” he said in a calm, unruffled voice. “I fear, for obvious reasons, we must end the ceremony early.” His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he continued. “Rest assured, we will find whomever is responsible for this atrocity, but for now, I must bid you farewell.”
I snuck a glance at my companions. Daisuke looked stunned and slightly amused but, like Lord Iesada, he was doing a remarkable job of hiding his reaction. However, Okame’s face was red from holding in his laughter, and Reika’s hard black gaze was fixed on me, her mouth drawn into a tight line. Not fooled in the slightest.
“Of course, Iesada-sama,” Daisuke said with a small bow of his own. “We will show ourselves out. Thank you for inviting us. Your hospitality is truly inspiring.”
Okame and I managed to keep a straight face until we had left the tea room and were a goodly ways down the corridor. But the second we made eye contact, the ronin gasped and doubled over, hands on his knees, and I leaned against a shoji screen, bracing myself on the bamboo frame, as laughter echoed up and down the hall.
“Did…you…see him flap?” Okame wheezed. “He looked like a rooster trying to Kabuki dance.”
“Baka!” Reika stepped forward and smacked the ronin upside the head, then turned to glare at me. “I hope you two enjoyed that,” she said. “Because now we’ve made a terrible enemy of a very powerful person in the Shadow Clan. Lord Iesada won’t forgive this embarrassment, even if he never suspects who’s responsible.”
“Ite.” Okame straightened, rubbing his skull, to face the miko. “That’s assuming he wasn’t planning to kill us, anyway,” he retorted. “I haven’t been a samurai in a while, Reika-san, but I know when I’m being threatened.”
Daisuke, watching this whole scene with a bemused smile on his face, shook his head. “Amusing, and disturbing, as this is, I’m afraid the ronin is right, Reika-san. Lord Iesada was our enemy long before he invited us to tea. Should we continue our search for the demonslayer, it is certain we will run into his servants, who will attempt to keep us from our objective.”
“Let them try,” I said, making them all look at me. “Hakaimono is going after the Dragon scroll,” I reminded them. “We can’t let anything stop us. We have to get to the Steel Feather temple before he does.”
“And hope that, once we do, the First Oni doesn’t laugh in our faces, rip us to bloody shreds and take the scroll back to the Master of Demons,” Reika added. “I’m still uncertain as to how we’re going to avoid that, but it seems our path has been decided.” A shadow of uncertainty crossed her face, and she shook her head. “In the past, Hakaimono and the Master of Demons have slaughtered armies and leveled entire cities. We are but five—seven, if you count two shrine guardians—who stand between the First Oni and the most powerful blood mage the country has ever known.”
“Yes,” Daisuke added, and there was a current of excitement beneath his steely resolve. “A small group who stand against insurmountable odds, who give their lives for the glory of the empire? It is what Bushido is built on.” He raised his head, a smile crossing his face as he gazed out a window at the evening sky, his white hair rippling in the breeze. “I for one, welcome the chance to test my skills, to face my enemies with honor and to die with a sword in my hand. Think of the poems they will compose about our noble sacrifice.”
Okame winced. “I’d rather they compose poems about our noble victory.”
“I’ve never been in a poem,” I mused. “Does it have to be very sad? All the poems I’ve read seem to be quite sad. Well, except for a haiku about a tanuki and a farmer’s daughter. I never quite understood that one, and Denga refused to explain it to me.”
“Miss Yumeko?”
I turned to find the older servant woman standing a few yards away, again appearing as silently as a ghost.
“I come with a message from Kage Masao,” she informed us, as formal as ever. “Masao-sama and Naganori-san await you all on the last floor of the castle. The Path of Shadows is ready.”
16
THE FROZEN GARDEN
Suki
There were days when Suki missed being alive. Days that a memory would creep, unbidden, into her heart—a cool spring breeze, the sweetness of a favorite food, the warmth of the sun on her skin—and she would wish, just for a moment, that she was not an intangible ghost.
Today was not one of those days.
“I’m freezing,” Taka complained, hunching his shoulders against the driving snow. The little yokai’s lips had turned a subtle blue, and his teeth chattered as he trailed miserably after Lord Seigetsu, stepping in his master’s footsteps. Ice clung to his sleeves, and the wide-brimmed hat atop his head was covered in snow. “Are we n-nearly there, master?”
“Yes,” Seigetsu replied without looking back. “And the ruler of this wood is listening. If you do not wish to have your lips frozen shut forever, I would be silent.”
Taka immediately snapped his jaw and hunched even further into his straw cloak, making himself very small. And even though Suki couldn’t feel the cold, she shivered anyway. Around them, the shadowy forest stood frozen, tall shaggy pines drooping under the weight of snow and ice. It was an oppressive weight, Suki thought, drifting closer to Taka. Cold and domineering, as if the snow was a cruel master, demanding silence and respect from everything it touched.
As they stepped into a small, peaceful clearing, the snow falling from the sky abruptly ceased, and the forest around them grew still. Not a breath of wind stirred the branches, though Suki could almost see the cold in the icicles that hung from the trees, in the billowing clouds writhing from Taka’s lips. Lord Seigetsu didn’t stop; he strode across the flat ground, Taka and Suki following in his wake. The snow was quite deep here, and it crunched under Taka’s feet, as if he was walking across branches or a bed of pebbles.
“Ite!” Taka suddenly stopped, hopping on one foot, as if he had stubbed his toe. “Ow, ow ow, sharp! What is that?” Lord Seigetsu paused, looking mildly annoyed as he turned around.
“Taka.” His voice was a warning.
“Gomen!” Taka whispered, wincing as he reached into the snow. “Forgive me, master. I think I stepped on a broken branch…”
He stammered to a halt, his eye going huge, as he pulled a shattered half of a skull out of the snow. With a yelp, he dropped the grinning jawbone; it hit the ground with a muffled crack and rolled away, revealing yet another skull hidden beneath the blanket of white.
A soft, feminine chuckle rippled along the edge of the clearing, carried on the wind and stirring snow into the air. Welcome to my garden, it whispered, as Suki gazed around wildly and Taka darted behind Seigetsu’s hakama. I don’t get many visitors, not anymore. Would you care to stay for a spell? Perhaps you would like to plant something here yourself?
The wind gusted, tossing snow into the air, whipping at Seigetsu’s hair and tugging at his sleeves. It blew away the top portion of white, revealing the carpet of gleaming bones beneath. Skulls, rotting armor and weapons, skeletons both human and animal, all lying half-buried in the frozen ground. Taka gasped, and
Suki felt herself lose form, changing into the glowing ball of light. The strange voice giggled at their reactions. Seigetsu sighed.
“I have already seen your garden, Yukiko,” he called to the empty air. “It is not the reason I am here.”
Oh, Seigetsu-sama, you’re no fun. The voice almost sounded pouty, and snow continued to swirl around the clearing. As Suki watched, lacy fingers of windblown snow brushed Seigetsu’s sleeve, then curled around Taka, tugging at his hat. Are you sure you don’t want to leave me a present? I don’t have a one-eyed skull in my collection yet.
Taka cringed and whimpered, clutching at his master’s hakama. Seigetsu’s golden eyes narrowed.
“No, and don’t think you need any more ‘decorations,’” he said firmly. He raised a hand and waved it through the snow threads coiling around him. “I have come to collect on my favor, nothing more.”
The windblown flurries drifted back. That was years ago, Seigetsu-sama, the voice almost whined. Centuries, and you never came to visit me since then. I had almost forgotten about it.
“But I have not.” Seigetsu’s tone was unyielding. “Are you going to honor the promise you made to me that day, Yukiko, or should I become offended that I was misled?”
A long, dramatic sigh caused the snow to swirl frantically around the clearing. No, Seigetsu-sama, the voice said, sounding put-upon. I will honor my word. Let no one say Yukiko of the North does not keep her promises. What is it you need me to do?
Lord Seigetsu smiled.
“There is an oni by the name of Hakaimono on his way to the Steel Feather temple as we speak,” he replied. “I need you to stop him from getting there.”
17
THE PRICE OF ILLUSION
Yumeko