by Anna Frost
Usagi had grown badly winded; while Mamoru hurt everywhere, he felt he could go on. Being half inhuman did make a difference!
But wait… If Akakiba the samurai had this kind of stamina at his disposal, why had he fallen behind? He must be up to something. They couldn’t linger long, but Usagi needed a moment to recover.
She stood wheezing and looking round, on her guard. He watched the crowd, half of which looked up at them in puzzlement, but there was no one suspicious in sight.
A sudden noise, a shriek. Usagi was flat on her belly, sliding down the roof’s slope toward the edge. The tiles had given way and were dragging her along.
“Usagi!”
A throwing knife appeared in her free hand; this she used to stab into the bare wood revealed by the falling tiles. The handhold interrupted her fall, but with her other hand busy holding the glyphed sword and her feet dangling over the edge, she had no limb left to use. The last tiles slid by and over the edge to shatter down below.
Tiles giving way as if they weren’t held in place by any nail? On a fancy house with perfect, new-looking tiles? Sabotage! But how?
Half his brain grappled with that problem while the other half, preoccupied with Usagi’s predicament, moved his body to rescue her.
The tiles had provided his feet edges to grip; the bare roof did not. He, too, resorted to using throwing knives stabbed into the roof as handholds. He climbed down, stabbing holes as he went and telling his ribs to shut up and take it.
“Pass me the sword,” he said.
Usagi extended it his way blade first. Gingerly, he tried to take hold of the bare metal. The glyphs flared to life the second he touched it. He jerked his hand back.
“Evil thing!” he snarled. “Hang on a moment.” If he wrapped his hand in his clothing, it should help.
“Hang on?” She smiled. “What else could I do?”
That was when a fox, a real one with fur and whiskers, landed on the roof and bit Usagi’s hand. “Ow!”
The sword tumbled over the edge and the fox went after it.
“What just happened?” Usagi said, staring down as the fox bounded away with its jaws clamped onto the sword’s handle.
“Ah, I was wondering where Akakiba went,” Mamoru said with relief. Losing the item was trivial compared to Usagi’s safety.
She was using her now-free, bleeding hand to haul her legs up from the edge. “Are you serious? You think that was the tall samurai? As a fox?”
“I told you we took him prisoner. We learned his secrets.”
“That’s crazy,” she said, but she looked unsure. “Shouldn’t we give chase?”
“We’ll never catch up. How’s your hand?”
She didn’t let him have a look, pulling away and snapping, “It’s fine! How can we possibly go back and report this? Nobody will believe us!”
“Our clan leader will, if nobody else does.” He couldn’t read auras well enough to know whether Advisor Yoshida was possessed or not, but anyone working closely with Yoshio was likely to be aware of certain secrets. He’d have to hope it was the case.
“If you believe so…”
There were men in uniforms in the street below, shouting unintelligibly at them. Mamoru moved back from the edge, out of their sight. “We should get down elsewhere.”
“How are your injuries?”
“Fine,” he lied. ‘They’ll need cleaning, though.”
She laid a small hand on his uninjured arm, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. You fought well. You almost had him.”
Blood rushed to his face at her praise. “I did my best.”
Usagi procured new socks, new shoes, and a hair comb. For Mamoru, she bought shoes and a new layer of clothing to hide the bloody rips. Once she had restored their appearance to a semblance of normality, she lead them back to report.
Mamoru briefly took her hand before they arrived at the Imperial Palace and she squeezed his fingers. His wounds barely hurt anymore. A foolish grin plastered itself on his face and wouldn’t budge until they were in the presence of their superior.
Usagi went flat on the floor. “We’ve failed. There were Fox clan samurai and sohei waiting for us and they wouldn’t give up the sword. We had to flee.”
“Ah, the Fox clan,” Advisor Yoshida said. “I understand the problem.” Then his brows furrowed. “Why would they give the signal and yet refuse to give up the item? Did they mean to capture and interrogate you?”
Oh no. We simply wanted the couriers to lead us back to their master, a new voice said. A fox was sitting at a prudent distance. It wasn’t a flesh-and-blood one, but a spirit one. It had an unusual number of tails.
Usagi sat up and rubbed her temple with her bloody hand. “I must be dreaming.” But her other hand was reaching for a weapon.
“Are you Akakiba?” Mamoru hazarded. The voice sounded female, but spirits didn’t have sexes so that didn’t mean a thing.
You sound unsure. Can’t you see auras?
“Why would I see auras?” he said in what should sound like an honestly puzzled voice rather than a nervous “I’m hiding something” voice. He was a shinobi; he was supposed to be a good actor.
Interesting. Maybe it’s an ability that comes with time. Yuki couldn’t see them at first either.
Something clicked in Mamoru’s mind. “You’re the one who sabotaged the tiles so they fell under our feet.”
Good deduction.
“Fox,” Advisor Yoshida said. “What do you want?”
To stop you. Did you think we’d never realize you were stealing energy with those swords?
Advisor Yoshida exhaled, a long-suffering noise. “You will not end your interferences until you understand; that is plain. We feared this might happen. Come in person, along with any other of your clan you have with you, and my master shall deal with you.”
The following silence betrayed surprise.
I’ll convey the invitation.
Between one blink and the next, the fox was gone.
Advisor Yoshida rose. “Mamoru, Usagi. See to your hurts swiftly, then go to the gate and discreetly lead our guests to the back garden when they arrive. Do avoid starting any hostilities.”
Mamoru thought of facing Akakiba again, and swallowed hard. He judged he could stay upright a while longer before collapsing, but if the hostilities somehow restarted, he’d have no chance of survival.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sanae
When Sanae returned to her friends, she found they were now alone in the disreputable drinking house. She could see spots of blood here and there on the dirt floor, but there were no bodies.
What did you do with the patrons?
“They figured leaving was the best option,” Jien said. “The barkeeper never came back.”
We shouldn’t linger here. Policemen might come.
“We’ll go as soon as Aki’s done,” Jien said. The way he said it, quietly and with an uneasy look over his shoulder, hinted he had been made aware of Akakiba’s problem.
The pained grunting sounds coming from the backroom—presumably a storage area—told her the problem was ongoing.
“I don’t understand,” Yuki said. He sat hunched on himself, gazing at the floor. “He said he was content being human—but at the first sign of trouble he goes fox even if he knows he might not be able to shift back again. Is it that he would rather be a fox, but feels he has an obligation to me?”
It’s denial, she said. It would have been better if he’d already lost the ability. I expect he’ll keep pushing himself through the change until he really is stuck. He might not be happy with what he gets.
“He might be stuck now,” Yuki said. “It’s already taken him longer than last time. I don’t even know how he managed to turn fox fast
enough to catch the shinobi.”
It’s always easier to shift fox, Sanae said, because it’s our true form, in a way. Just like it’s always easier for me to shift woman than to shift man.
Jien draped an arm around Yuki’s shoulders and squeezed him close. In what seemed like a deliberately loud voice, Jien said, “Don’t worry, Yuki. If Aki orphans you, you can travel with me! I have a very nice patrol path around the mountain. We can visit Aki now and then at his clan house, which is really the best place for a fox-trapped fox. We’ll tell him about our adventures and all the fun we have without him. You won’t even miss him! I’m great fun.”
Akakiba staggered into the room, human shaped. “I heard that.”
“Aw, you’re human again,” Jien said. “Does that mean I don’t get to keep Yuki?”
Yuki didn’t say anything. He stared at Akakiba, hard.
“After all the trouble we’ve gone through to gather those swords, I couldn’t let them get away with one,” Akakiba said defensively.
“Sanae was tracking them,” Yuki said. “We would have gotten it back one way or another. Shifting was unnecessary. Don’t do it again.” As if it were an afterthought, he added, “Please.”
“I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
Sanae bounced on the nearest table. Enough wasting time! I followed the shinobi and they went straight to Advisor Yoshida. We’ve been invited to go to the Imperial Palace. Advisor Yoshida claims his master will meet with us and explain everything.
That got their attention, four pairs of eyes turning to her.
“His master?” Jien repeated. “Does he mean the emperor?”
I don’t know.
Predictably, there was argument over whether to allow Yuki to come.
He said those of the Fox clan, Sanae said. We’ll go and see what we may learn. If we don’t make it back, summon help.
“It could be a trap,” Akakiba said. “At last extremity, I can abandon my body. No matter what, don’t come after us.”
“Understood,” Jien said quietly.
It wasn’t the monks Akakiba was watching. “Yuki. I’ll trust you to back me in situations when backup is needed if you’ll trust me to know when a situation can’t be improved by your presence.”
Suspicion colored Yuki’s words. “On your honor?”
“On my honor.”
Yuki relaxed. “I’ll wait. Be careful.”
There was a tentative easing in the air between those two. Sanae knew why, because she had no shame and had spied on their heart-to-heart conversation. Their red-faced embarrassment had been adorable to watch. They’d be okay, given a little time to adjust. She wouldn’t need to intervene after all.
Jien laid a hand on Yuki’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Aito will spy on them for us. We’ll know if anything happens.”
They went, sister and brother together, though she misted invisibly a safe distance behind him.
Akakiba was met at the gate by the young shinobi, Mamoru and Usagi. Mamoru was limping and holding his ribs, and both of them looked decidedly uneasy as they led the way inside. They hardly spoke a word.
Misting along, Sanae observed Mamoru more closely. Maybe nobody but her could see it, subtle as it was, but his aura had patches that didn’t quite match. I think it’s like what happened to me and Yuki, she whispered to her brother. Two entities merging into one. Yoshio was right, then, in saying a demon can meld with a human mind.
He didn’t reply, either to avoid betraying her presence or because he didn’t know what to say. If Yoshio had been right about that, was he also right in speculating that the Fox clan was descended from people just like him, demon-human mixes?
They arrived in a secluded garden where a man sat waiting on a bench of stone. He was a man past his prime, but not quite elderly. In appearance, he didn’t differ greatly from any other noble person clad in multiple layers of embroidered silk. But the way he brought his attention to bear upon them, as if he were a man who feared nothing but needed to worry about everything, screamed “emperor.”
There were no guards in the garden, only Advisor Yoshida and the two shinobi. The emperor was taking a risk by meeting with a stranger without meaningful protection, but the why of it was unclear. To avoid making Akakiba nervous? To test him? To keep secrets from leaking any further?
Akakiba didn’t so much as bow. “Explain yourself.”
The emperor’s dragon, curled about his shoulders, raised its head and hissed. The emperor soothed it with a touch. “Yes dear. Hush now.” He addressed Akakiba without heat. “We trust you left the sword in safety?”
“The sohei have it in their possession.”
“Good. Do you know where We may find the others that have been removed?”
Condensing into visibility—and ignoring the way the shinobi jumped—Sanae asked, What is your purpose?
“Ah, a fox spirit. How marvelous.” The emperor bent to inspect her, while his dragon watched her with unblinking snake eyes. “What beautiful tails.”
She tried not to preen. There was important business at hand.
“Our purpose, now. We have need of those powered swords, which We have been told should be able to slay even a god, to stop the awakening of such a being.”
A god?
“Yes. The Fox clan has long been aware, as We have, that the spiritual energy of Our realm is being sucked away slowly.”
By the swords.
“You should have realized the swords are new. They have only been in play for seven years. They have worsened the decline, but it began long before. Is that not correct, little fox?”
Well, yes. She’d been too busy to consider things properly. There was indeed a missing piece.
“You speak like you know the answer,” Akakiba challenged. “Do explain.”
The emperor made no comment on Akakiba’s rude tone, as if it were of no consequence. “Far to the North, on the island of Hokkaido, a cult has arisen. They seek to awaken a god, but the energy required to do such a thing… It will destroy us. Even humans require spiritual energy, do they not? These frail things called souls, they are of that nature. If the cult is allowed to do as it wishes, the god will wake but the Land of the Rising Sun will die.”
“The god must be slain before it awakens,” Advisor Yoshida said. “For this purpose we had multiple swords made and placed where they might gather enough strength of their own to be able to slay a god.”
“Yoshio was your agent,” Akakiba said. “Did you direct his attacks on us?”
The emperor sighed. “Yes, he was Our agent. We recruited him, knowing what he was, and promised Our protection in exchange for his help. He took over a shinobi clan on Our directive, but We did not control every one of his subsequent actions. We regret the attacks on your clan.”
“Why didn’t you punish him? Why not ask for help from us instead of from the likes of him? Were we not good allies? We always believed you trusted our clan.”
“We weren’t certain his actions were contrary to Our interests. We feared either your clan was already supporting the cult or that it would if you knew of it.” He was watching them as he said, “The woods around the cult’s temple are dead, but Our agents have spotted at least one fox circling the area. We thought it might be one of yours. You see, this cult seeks to bring forth your patron goddess, Inari herself.”
How absurd. Inari was a widely worshipped goddess because she was a force of good and fertility. How could she bring evil?
Inari wouldn’t hurt anyone, Sanae protested.
“We agree. But this is not her design. It is humans who have decided to bring her forth. To do this they need to gather a vast amount of energy, to the detriment of our world’s equilibrium. If they succeed, it will be disastrous. We would not expect Inari to be ple
ased with them for it, but who knows what cultists think? A fool will not be cured until he dies.”
Akakiba frowned and looked questioningly at her, as if she could detect truth. She didn’t know any more than he did what was truth and what was falsehood. Yoshio had said his attacks on their clan had been paid for by jealous clans and motivated by his personal hatred, but what if had been a lie? Was the Emperor an enemy?
Sanae devoutly hoped not; what could one tiny clan do against the man who led the entire country? Murder him? That would be unlikely to help their relations with humans.
“I can’t judge the truth of your words without witnessing the situation myself,” Akakiba said at last. “I will go as a wielder of one of the swords you prepared. I shall learn whether your actions were justified.”
The emperor smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. It made him look freer, as if he were a normal person. “Of course. If you were refused, you would simply make your way there on your own. Do not think We do not know the qualities of your kind. If you are indeed an ally in this, you will be a welcome one.”
Akakiba’s declaration caused a wave of argument when it, and everything else, was related to their allies. Sanae left the men to their bickering, certain her brother would have his way. They would be going north, to discover the truth. They didn’t quite trust the emperor, and he obviously didn’t quite trust them, but they would work together.
Crossing to the spiritual realm, she headed for what she still thought of as home even if she would never “live” there again. She had to visit her poor father, whose cold clung and clung and wouldn’t clear up. Why colds and other similar illnesses couldn’t be cured by the healing trance, she would have liked to know, but likely never would. It was one of those things with which one had to make peace.
Just like the fact her brother was as good as trapped in his human shape, never again to hunt in the forest with fang and claw. She wouldn’t tell her father; it wasn’t her place to share such a delicate secret.