by Anna Frost
“Ignore her,” Akakiba said. “She’s being a pest.”
Yuki opened his mouth—then shut it resolutely. If Akakiba hadn’t noticed he’d said “her” and “she” instead of “the spirit,” there was no reason to bring it to his attention. He might finally say “Sanae” soon.
Yuki reached out for Drac’s mind to convey he was alive. He received absolutely nothing in answer. Drac hadn’t “thought” to him since he’d left. Sulking, one might say. It would pass.
Wouldn’t it?
Dragons did have a reputation for holding grudges. Perhaps he could convince Akakiba to help hunt down a deer or boar he might offer as a goodwill gesture. A daily diet of mice must be tiring.
No hunting would happen if they got slaughtered by the shinobi. He needed to rest instead of fretting.
The rock blocked the wind and the fire kept the worst of the chill at bay, but it was still cold enough to make him shiver violently.
“I knew it was too cold for you,” Akakiba said irritably.
The hot and angry words standing on the tip of Yuki’s tongue melted away when Akakiba enfolded him from behind, molding their bodies together. There were several layers of clothing between them, but that didn’t prevent his face from catching fire. He could feel Akakiba’s hot breath washing against his cheek. After a little while, he stopped shivering. He couldn’t sleep, though.
The words spilled out as if of their own volition. “Are you still angry with me?”
“I wasn’t angry,” Akakiba said. “I just didn’t want you taking idiotic risks. You should have said you were prepared to leave the dragon behind.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean the other thing you’ve been angry about.”
“What thing?”
“I don’t know! Lately you’ve been getting angry every time I try to ask questions. You barely even speak to me anymore.”
“I speak to you. You simply don’t hear me because you’re talking to your dragon.”
Ah, there it was again, that hint of jealousy. But Akakiba had started getting distant before Drac even learned speech so there had to be something else going on. How was he supposed to find out what the problem was?
“Sleep,” Akakiba ordered. “You need the rest and so do I.”
They slept and woke. They ate, and napped, and ate more. Sanae kept the fire going, bringing back branches in her mouth. They didn’t ask why she didn’t use a human shape to carry objects.
Eventually, Akakiba rose and announced, “I’m rested.”
Yuki scrambled to his feet, checking his own weapons. “Ready.”
They sneaked away, insofar as sneaking was possible in a snowy forest. Short of learning to fly, there was no way to prevent leaving tracks. Yuki kept up with Akakiba’s long strides with ease, feeling impossibly good for someone who’d recently abused his muscles grievously.
It obviously had to do with how he’d awakened in the morning to find fox-form Sanae pretending to sleep on his chest. He’d been healed by spirits before and he knew the feel of it. Why she felt compelled to keep it secret he didn’t know, but it wasn’t a matter he felt necessary to pursue. Perhaps she feared that disclosing this healing ability would make Akakiba go back to calling her “the spirit.”
The shinobi stronghold appeared to be based around an abandoned watchtower that had, with time, been camouflaged by the surrounding trees. There was a sprawling building around the tower’s base, forming a square with a courtyard in the middle.
The building is where most of them live and train, Sanae said. The tower has a meeting hall and the leader’s quarters.
There was a moat around the compound, but it hadn’t been maintained and there were trees growing in it. Perhaps it was meant to convey a sense of abandonment or poverty to persons who stumbled here uninvited. The way across appeared unguarded. It was a bridge of stone so narrow a cart would have difficulties not falling off on either side.
“No guards?” Yuki said uneasily, looking round in an effort to discern potential traps. Akakiba had come to a standstill at his side, head cocked.
Oh, the guards locked themselves in a storage room, Sanae said. I scared them into it. They won’t come out for a while.
That sounded extremely suspicious. “What did you do, exactly?”
But Sanae had gone again. They resumed their cautious advance, through the unlocked gate and toward the tower, of which the original door to the outside had been preserved.
The door was barred. With red in his hair, Akakiba kicked it in. This made a great deal of noise, but no one confronted them, only echoing hallways.
Feeling like an idiot, Yuki ventured to call, “Hello? Is anybody home?” Resounding silence answered. “What happened here?”
Akakiba sighed. “She happened.”
“Sanae? She didn’t kill them, did she?” It didn’t seem right for a spirit to go after humans. It was what demons did.
“I wish she had. She’s been playing games instead.”
“What kind of games? Did she do something…bad?”
Sanae bounded in. The horses are gone and the carts too. Many people are still here but they’re keeping to areas protected by traps. I don’t suggest going after them.
“Does anyone know we’re here?”
Yoshio can’t have failed to notice. I’ll go see what he’s doing. She vanished, returning shortly thereafter. Oh, he knows. He’s practicing moves with the sword we want.
Akakiba took the lead, which irritated Yuki. “Isn’t that sword dangerous for a fox? Let me go first.”
“A sword in the belly will kill you as dead as it will kill me, glyphs or not.”
The staircase gave onto what had to be the meeting hall, considering its elaborately painted murals and the twelve-place table in the middle.
The man who stood there had to be Yoshio. He couldn’t have failed to hear them ascending, yet he didn’t turn around to face them. His aura had the telltale demon taint on it, obvious to those with the talent to see auras.
They made no effort to prevent the floor from creaking as they approached. At last, Yoshio turned. His face was scarred and harsh, his gaze keen and calculating. The sword in his hand was similar to the first one they’d found, except Yuki didn’t need to be within touching distance to feel how it tried to nibble at their life force. There was no doubt this one was the original, its power gathered over centuries.
Yoshio lifted the blade, allowing lamplight to play upon it. “Come for this beauty, haven’t you?”
Akakiba stopped a few steps away. “You have no right to it.”
“Debatable,” Yoshio said. “I compliment you on your tactics. Leaving your body in order to terrify my underlings into fleeing or hiding... It was a plan worthy of a shinobi. I regret not realizing the danger sooner. I thought my precautions adequate to keep you from recovering your body. Evidently I was wrong. To be bested twice is quite vexing.”
The “terrifying the underlings” part must be Sanae’s doing. Either the demon possessing Yoshio couldn’t see auras from within a human body or it had never seen Sanae and therefore couldn’t know she was a different person from Akakiba.
Knowing better than to give away the fact they had a third person on their team, they did not refute the man’s words. Akakiba merely inclined his head in acknowledgement.
In one smooth movement, Yoshio slid the sword into its scabbard. “Would you like a cup of tea before we begin? Please take a moment to recover from the cold.”
Akakiba considered this for a heartbeat before also sheathing his sword. “I would enjoy hot tea,” he said, moving to kneel on one of the cushions lined around the table.
Yuki followed suit, kneeling gingerly. Hmm, no poisoned needles hidden in the cushion. “Tea with a shinobi?” he murmured with a side-glance at his compa
nion.
“You fear I might poison the tea?” Yoshio said. “It’s a valid concern. Why don’t you pour for us, young man?”
Yuki wished he had a mind bond with Akakiba to know what was going on in his head. He nonetheless complied, recovering the pot of tea from its stand and pouring three steaming cups. The aroma was rich and fragrant and oh so inviting.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Yoshio, current leader of this nameless clan.” He raised a hand to forestall any objections. “Yes, I know. To you, I am a possessed human. You believe you’re talking to a demon.” Lifting his teacup, he took a sip. “This is my favorite blend. Do try it.”
Holding the shinobi’s gaze, Akakiba took a long sip of tea. “Very nice. And yes, I do believe I’m talking to a demon. Do you say differently?”
“Do you know what happens when a demon enters a human and, instead of destroying the original mind, merges with it? I shall tell you. Someone like you happens, fox. I have become as you are.”
“I took over no human’s body.”
“Not you, but your ancestors certainly did.” There was a challenge in those words, in that tone. “I am like them. I may never have a chance to find out, but I wonder what kind of children I would father. Normal humans? Or beings like myself, half-half, as it happens in your clan? Perhaps it isn’t so simple. I could find no records of what truly happened when your clan was founded.”
Akakiba sipped tea, eyes narrowed in…thought? Suspicion? Restrained anger? Yuki used his own cup to warm his hands and ignored the inviting aroma. A fox might survive poison, but a human needed to apply greater caution. So while demon and fox talked, the human poured tea and watched for any sign danger was afoot.
After starting in on his second cup, Akakiba resumed the conversation. “You claim to be the result of a merger between the human Yoshio and a demon, then?”
“It is truth. If you tried to exorcise me now, it wouldn’t work. The human part of me is strong and well rooted in this body. One might wonder which it is who did the absorbing, the human or the demon. All of these things”—he gestured to his surroundings “—are human things. The thoughts in my head are human thoughts. I can hardly recall what it’s like to be a spirit or how to communicate with them. If I tried now, we wouldn’t understand each other.”
Yuki almost opened his mouth to indicate Sanae had said the same—about her human-shaped mind being unable to understand spirits’ minds—but refrained in time. He was certain the shinobi had a trick up his sleeve and they might need their secret weapon Sanae to counter it.
“Tell me,” Akakiba said. “Was it you who organized the army our clan faced?”
“No. It was a dreadfully foolish thing those possessed did. A large force could never escape your notice. But those were inexperienced spirits and they didn’t understand how your clan would react to a gathering. I was relieved to hear you exorcised as many as you could rather than slaughtering every last one.”
“You claim to feel empathy for humans?”
“My non-human component wouldn’t have cared. But I’m more than that, now. I have melded with the minds of two different humans, this one and the man who was leader before. The leader was unfortunately murdered by Yoshio, forcing me to move. I have the memories of three different beings. All of these parts together are my self, and this self understands human feelings. Yes, I do claim to feel empathy for those people and spirits. They’re innocent victims in a war they don’t understand.”
Yuki tried to work that out. Did Yoshio consider the Fox clan to be at war with demons? Spirits who hurt people and earned the calling “demon” were hardly innocent victims!
Akakiba didn’t argue the point. He asked, “Why did you send shinobi after us?”
Yoshio smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “We’re mercenaries, are we not? We take offered money when it’s worthwhile. The first attempts were funded by idiotic nobles, the kind who cannot abide others who are seen as more honorable than they are, especially if it is the truth. You may want to watch your neighbors more closely. The last attempt...” Draining his cup, Yoshio put it down roughly. “My rage drove me to it. You are the enemy. Every person like me who lives in this world as a dual being is terrified of being found by the foxes. We are like you, but you suffer no competition. Do you deny it?”
There was a pause, but Akakiba merely gestured for Yoshio to go on. Meanwhile, Yuki dutifully refilled the empty cup. If it should turn out there was poison in the drink, then he wanted a great deal of it to be inside the enemy.
“I saw a chance to end the tyranny of your clan. To give the rest of us a chance to create our own species, as your clan once did. Perhaps it is foolish to try. Perhaps no new species can arise, no matter our efforts. But it should be our choice to try, not the choice of hypocrites who wish to deny us what they themselves enjoy.”
“I don’t recall hearing you give the humans involved a choice,” Yuki muttered.
The pair ignored him. Akakiba, it seemed, was bent on information gathering. Why else keep this conversation going? No doubt there were countless lies in Yoshio’s words, but even lies might contain truths.
“Will you tell me why you stole the sword?” Akakiba asked at last. “Why the copies?”
“I apologize, but I cannot tell you. That secret belongs to men higher placed than I am. Be warned that if you take this sword from me, others will take it from you. Important persons command it.”
“I see.” After emptying his cup for the second time, Akakiba rose. “Thank you for the tea. The poison in it is new to me. What is it called?”
“I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?”
Yuki couldn’t stop his movement of shock. “So it was poisoned! The whole pot? But you both drank it!”
“Shinobi habits,” Yoshio said. “I have the antidote on me. It’s a single dose, but I don’t expect this to be a problem. Shall we?”
Yoshio drew; so did Akakiba.
Yuki twitched. He badly wanted to join in, but it would feel dishonorable to do that to someone with whom they’d shared tea. Even if it had been poisoned and even if he personally hadn’t had any.
A fox samurai had natural advantages, but Yuki judged they were nullified by Yoshio’s sword. In a fair fight, which this almost was, Akakiba would still win. Yuki believed that, so he stood back and watched them circle each other.
A flicker caught his eye; Sanae was gesturing at him from outside the room. He headed out, leaving the pair to their combat.
Men downstairs, Sanae whispered. They’re preparing to set the tower on fire. Yoshio might not expect to survive, but he certainly expects to kill you both. Ohhh, those cursed glyphs! I can’t go physical when they’re everywhere. Come on!
“I’ll handle it,” he assured her as he hurried downstairs.
He’d known there must be a reason for Yoshio to offer them a drink! It’d been a delay tactic to allow his underlings to do the work unnoticed. If they hadn’t had Sanae to watch their backs…
Cursed shinobi. Nothing was ever simple with them. You couldn’t simply draw your sword and attack. It was always poison, traps, backstabbing, and secret fire-setting. Honestly!
I never heard them speak of this plan, Sanae said with anger and injured pride. They must have planned it through written messages. I can’t read their secret scripts.
Yuki couldn’t keep the steps from squeaking under his weight so he didn’t try, but rather charged down yelling to unsettle the shinobi and distract them from their task. They were piling dry hay on the first floor and, by the smell of it, pouring cooking oil on it. With the aid of a torch, they could send the entire building up in flames in moments. Even a half-inhuman being like Akakiba would have trouble getting down from a third-floor window.
Force them outside so I can help, Sanae said.
Yuki flung his
sword left and right in an effort to drive the men back toward the door. Sanae helped, showing herself as a large and demonic-looking fox with blood dripping from her muzzle.
Death comes for you! she howled, and the men shuddered and redirected their throwing weapons at this nightmare.
In that moment of distraction he was able to run a man through. Looking at the blood on his blade, he wondered when he’d gotten used to killing. He didn’t have time to ponder the question, though, not if he wanted to be left alive at the end of the battle.
One of the other men had foolishly stepped outside; Sanae pursued him. The third and last man performed an impressive back flip that put him out of sword’s reach.
Ducking behind a wooden pillar, Yuki heard the dull thuds of sharp metal embedding itself in wood. Throwing stars. He needed to handle that third man swiftly, for it was him who had the torch in hand.
From outside, a scream of acute terror. Just what had Sanae done to these people, to scare them so? Reenact every horror story she had ever been told as a child?
Akakiba’s voice came from what appeared to be a point outside and above, as if through a window. “Curse you, coward!”
Because he was looking toward the door, Yuki witnessed the body crashing to the ground with a distinctly wet sound. He couldn’t have said if the demon came out of Yoshio right before or right after the impact, but out it went.
Bounding in the air, Sanae closed her teeth on the shadowy form. The demon screeched as Sanae shook it like a predator shakes prey. It disappeared, perhaps dead, perhaps not.
“In case you don’t understand what just happened,” Yuki called to the third man, “that was your leader crashing to the ground outside. He’s dead. You might as well retreat.”
In response, the man tossed the torch and fled. It landed near, but not on, the piled hay. Yuki stomped on it frantically until all the sparks were out.
Akakiba descended with the stolen sword in hand. His face was covered in sweat and his expression was pained. “We have the sword,” he said, handing it over. Then, opening his other hand to show white tablets, “I’d like to think this is the antidote, but with that man’s twisted way of thinking, it’s likely more poison.” He threw them away. “I need to use the trance.”