“Mere mortal, you think to use me. The moment I break these seals, I will devour you.” Her voice sounded like rolling thunder and she bared teeth the length of the woman’s head. She would enjoy devouring her. Humans with spiritual energy were always delicious.
The woman sang an incantation Rin had never heard before. She thinks to seal me, but this barrier will not hold me. In her true form, her power was at its peak. She pressed against the walls of the barrier and they sparked and sizzled, but it felt like flies buzzing against her skin, a mere annoyance. Rin may be a lesser Yokai, but she was more powerful than this human. But the walls did not budge, no matter how she focused her own energy into destroying them. They did not shrink either, as they should if the old woman was attempting a sealing. A warmth enveloped Rin. Like a blanket wrapped around her, it forced the hair back into the follicles and her strength waned. She threw herself against the barrier walls again and again, but it made no difference. She changed, returning to her humanlike form. She fell to the ground, heaving for breath. She looked up at the old woman through a curtain of ebony hair.
It was dark out, darker than she remembered. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. She glared at the woman.
“I have made you mortal, a form you despise. I will return you to your real form once you complete a task for me. I need you to break the treaty between the Kaedemori clan and Fujikawa clan. End their pact by the next full moon or I will turn you into a real fox.”
When Naoki reached the border of the forest, he felt the residue of magic; it clung to his skin as it hung over the countryside like a shroud. Stretching out his senses, he felt an Okami hunting in the night; small, ignorant Yokai watched him fearfully from the shadows. Intertwined among the other energies, very faintly, he felt the presence of a priestess. Intrigued, he stretched out his senses and touched the edges of her power, like a vine reaching toward the sun. She had masked her energy or else he would have felt her straight away, which meant she was powerful. He probed her energy, analyzing it—confident his own greater spiritual power would hide him. Even at a distance, he could often learn all about a Yokai or priestess without them ever knowing he had brushed against them, reading their emotions and sometimes their memories. But she fought him; like a breeze blowing against a tree branch, she tried to repel him. He focused his energy into a single beam. Now he was truly curious.
He skimmed through her energy, reading it, but he only got vague impressions and flashes of emotions. This wasn’t a priestess, a human priestess’ energy was pure. This human’s spiritual energy was clouded with darkness, and familiar. As he tried to pinpoint her location, she disappeared entirely. This is dangerous. Few could fight against him, and if a human could hide from his probes, then she was equal in power to him. He searched in vain for her—he was certain he recognized that energy. As he searched, he found traces of the Kitsune as well. He hoped she would leave this region straight away. But he could feel her all around; he could see her progress in his mind’s eye, running along the human road disguised as a fox, until her energy disappeared as well. Something was not right.
Then like a flash of light, he felt the priestess’ spiritual energy unmasked. She had revealed herself to give him a taste of her real power. He knew this energy, though it had been centuries since he’d last experienced it; she was no mere priestess. What is she doing back here? He stopped, pretending to straighten his sandal. He would rather go on his way without a fight, but the priestess was drawing closer—there was no way to avoid a confrontation now. He drew up and reached for his sword.
“He has let you off your leash, then?” she said from behind him.
Naoki rested his palm on the end of his sword but did not draw. “It is you. I did not think to see you here after all you have done.”
The witch came out from around a tree. She bowed low to Naoki, mocking him most likely. She had not changed much over the years; everything about her was the same from her white hair to the crescent-shaped scar on her face. His hand itched to draw his blade, but he would be dead before he pulled it free.
“Have you visited Akio? I am sure he would like to see you.”
The witch cackled. “I am sure he would love to see me. Have you come for me, then?” She looked him up and down. “Perhaps not. You wear a human’s skin.”
“Why are you here?”
“I had some work to take care of in the area.” She looked him up and down and a slow smile spread across her wrinkled features. It had been a long time since they had crossed paths. He still remembered that look and it still set his teeth on edge even after all this time. “I am glad I ran into you,” she said slowly, enunciating each word. “You can assist me.”
He never showed his emotion, but a scornful smile flitted across his face. “Why would I help you?”
“You want free of the guardian, and I can help you.”
He ran his thumb across the hilt of his blade. This must be a trick. With her it was never this simple. If he helped her, he was likely to incur some other favor and be beholden to her instead of Akio. But he could not say it was not an enticing offer. “How can I trust you?”
“Do not mistake me for Akio. He made his own choices. I never wished you any ill will.”
He crossed his hands over his chest, to defeat the urge to draw his blade and take her head as a prize. “What business do you have here?” he asked.
“Human business. Nothing that would interest you.” She waved her hand. That was as much as he would get from her, he expected. “Do you want to hear how I can free you of Akio or not?” Her gloating hung over her like a cloud; she loved to be in control.
He did not respond, but he was curious. He did not trust her. He had once, but that was when he was a different man.
She took his silence as assent. “There is a clan near here who I have some interest in. I sent my own spy, but another would not go amiss.”
“And what exactly are you spying for?”
“I am making war.” She smiled with an almost childlike glee.
A shiver went down his spine. Only she would find joy in carnage. “And what could I do to that end?”
“Watch, listen, and report, nothing more.”
“And in exchange you will free me from Akio?” He was skeptical. “I know you are powerful, but even you cannot break his pact.”
“Hmm. Perhaps, but I know where she sleeps, and if you wake her, she will be able to.”
Where is she, where is she! he wanted to shout. He had been searching for five hundred years and not been able to find Tsukiko. How could this witch know? He knew the witch was powerful, and her power had only grown over the centuries. It should have been expected from a priestess who did not fear black magic. But to know where Tsukiko slept, when even the Eight could not tell him, it was impossible.
“You lie.”
The witch reached into her billowing sleeve and removed something from it. She tossed it onto the ground. He slowly knelt down to pick it up off the ground, not taking his eyes off the witch. His hand closed around the cold stone. He unfurled his hand, revealing a comb—inconsequential, uninteresting, made of jade with a carved rose on the front entwined with thorns. It was his last gift to Tsukiko before they had been separated.
“Where did you get this?” How could she have known? It could not be hers…
“If you want to find her, then perhaps you would be willing to do me a favor?”
He stared back down at the comb. After centuries of waiting, how could he say no? He could try to overpower the witch and demand the answers, but he knew the witch well enough to know she would die before telling him. And then he would never find Tsukiko.
6
“My lady, what are you doing out here this late?” Hikaru asked.
She shook her head back and forth slowly, then returned to an eerie, still state.
He took a step closer to her. She did not move. Her shoulders were taut as a bowstring and her eyes followed him. She thread
ed her fingers together in front of her. He held up his hands, showing that he meant her no harm.
“Are you hurt?”
She only shook her head once again. He could see her clearer as he drew closer. Her hair, a dark ebony, was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Despite her fine clothes, there was no care or artifice done to her appearance. Yet her raw beauty shone through. Her round face, almond eyes and rosebud mouth were well formed. On closer inspection, she could not be the fox woman. She did not have ears and a tail, for one thing, and for another, the fox woman had coppery hair. He wanted to shake himself. There was no such thing as Kitsune! It had all been a hallucination brought on by a panicked mind. He must have imagined the woman. The resemblance was uncanny, however.
I jumped to the wrong conclusion because I found her alone in the dark. Where did she come from? He looked around; there wasn’t anyone around for miles. How did a woman so well dressed end up at the edge of a forest? They tell stories about women appearing to travelers. They seduce men and drain them of their life force.
When he looked back at her, she had moved closer to him. She looked at him with her head cocked to the side. She regarded him for a moment. He may have imagined it, but it seemed she recognized him as well.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” he asked.
She looked past him to the forest. He turned to look over his shoulder. This is the part in stories where the woman would transform into a monster and eat me. He shivered. When did he start believing in such superstitious nonsense?
“Are you hurt, is that why you do not speak?” Hikaru asked, trying to coax something out of her. Anything to offset this twisting feeling of dread coiling in his stomach.
She stared at him for a moment; then she raised her hands. Bringing them close to her face, she examined her flesh as if seeing it for the first time. After she had scanned both hands, she shook her head.
He frowned. She is very strange. “Are you unable to speak?”
She touched her throat and nodded.
He sighed. “Well, this could prove difficult.” He looked around as if the night would offer up the answers he sought. “Are you from around here?”
She smiled, a coy sort of smile. It was different than the smile of court ladies, it was playful and secretive. It caught him off guard. Though her clothes indicated she was, he wondered if she was a noble lady. What noble lady would be traveling alone and in the dark?
“Well, I suppose there is no use in standing out here in the cold. I’ll take you back to the palace and we can try to figure this out.” He held out his hand to her. She stared at it for a moment, hesitant to take it. He got the impression once more of a wild animal, but the thought passed quickly.
He helped her into the saddle of his horse and swung up behind her. He held his hands up, unsure where to rest them. It was not often that he was this close to a woman. He decided to rest one hand on his thigh and the other grasped the reins. She brushed against him by accident, and he could not help but notice how soft her skin was or how she smelled sweet like a blooming flower.
She leaned forward and pressed her nose against his arm. He jerked his hand back. Did she just smell me?
“Is anything the matter?” he asked. He looked at the back of her head, wondering if this was the right thing to do. Perhaps she was addled in the mind. It would certainly explain a few things.
She shook her head in response.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She did not seem simpleminded. One of his father’s tenant farmers had a son that was born simple. He often smiled at Hikaru when he rode through the countryside. He was harmless enough, but one could tell upon meeting him that he was not in full control of his mind. This woman was different. Though strange, to be certain, she seemed to be aware of her surroundings. Maybe she was confused.
She touched his arm with her fingertips, and just the innocent brush of her skin against his ignited his flesh in a way he had never felt before. He wanted to pull away, as was proper, but could not bring himself to do so. His arm brushed against hers when he twitched the reins, closing her into a tight embrace. She flinched and he snapped it back, bowing out his arm to avoid any further unintentional touches. She glanced at him over her shoulder.
He avoided her gaze by looking over the dark countryside. “It’s not much farther,” he said, his voice cracking.
She turned back around, a smile ghosting along her lips. She’s laughing at me, I am sure of it. If only I could share in the joke.
“I’m sure it seems strange that I keep talking. I know you cannot speak—or at least I hope this is not a cruel joke.” He paused. The plodding sound of the horse’s hooves filled the silence for a moment.
“You’re not tricking me, right?” He hated how vulnerable he sounded.
She shook her head and her shoulders shook as if she were laughing silently. His neck burned and he was thankful she was facing the other way so she could not see his mortification. Perhaps Hotaru paid her to humiliate me. He looked about, expecting to find his younger brother and his men hiding in the rice paddies. Hikaru and the strange woman were alone but for the moon’s reflection on the water of the rice paddies. He eased back in the saddle.
“Of course not,” he sighed, more to convince himself than her. Her secrets were locked tight within her silence. Which he had to believe was genuine. Unless her voice will reveal she is some terrifying Yokai intent on eating me. As much as he wanted to discard the terrifying notion, after the events earlier today, his long-held beliefs were shaken. The night birds called to one another in the dark and the wind brushed over them. He studied the back of her head, expecting a mouth to appear there.
The palace was in sight when he found the courage to ask, “This is going to sound insane, but you’re not an evil spirit, are you?”
Her body vibrated.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend.”
Then she snorted.
Hikaru laughed, he could not hold it back. It was a rolling sound that erupted deep within him and shook his entire frame. She touched his hand and he stiffened all over. When she peeked at him from over her shoulder with a grin, whatever fear he had before dissipated. The stress of the treaty had been playing tricks with his mind. Evil spirits, Kitsune, and Yokai were all just myths. Nothing he had to worry about.
Lord Kaedemori stared at the documents in front of him. His vision blurred as the characters ran together. There was more work to be done, compensation to be sent to the families of the deceased warriors, and more letters to write to their neighboring clans to placate their likely anger at his treaty with the Fujikawas. Just imagining their reactions made his head throb. He massaged his temple and closed his eyes.
With the Fujikawas’ backing, the Kaedemoris would be the most powerful clan in the region. Hikaru had laid the groundwork, but there was still more to be done. Just the rumor of a treaty had flooded his chamber with letters from the other clans sniffing for confirmation. Well, they would have it soon enough and then the real work would begin. If only this damn headache would desist. He glanced up, prepared to call for the servant to bring him a headache remedy, when he heard the tinkling of a bell.
He looked around the room. He was alone but for the shadows.
“Yoshirou…” The wind whispered his name, like a caress.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. The fire in the braziers flickered and then died down to mere embers. It is my imagination; she has been dead for years.
Then he heard it again. “Yoshirou.”
The prickling sensation raced down his arms. He stood and went behind a screen to a secret exit at the back of his room. He would take a quick look, to sate his curiosity. Down wooden steps and onto a narrow pathway between buildings, he followed the track as he had done hundreds of times, the ground worn flat by his footsteps.
The shrine was empty, lit only by moonlight, which illuminated the idol in its alcove. He stood before the idol, the voice that had called out to hi
m a figment of his imagination. But this time he swore he had heard her calling his name. He pinched the bridge of his nose. This is madness. When will she cease to haunt me? She had been gone for nearly twenty years. He looked up at the moon, a mere sliver in the cloudless sky. There would be no moon come tomorrow night, leaving the world in darkness. He touched the feet of the idol, an old habit. He turned to leave, back to his work. I may as well work through the night, I won’t be able to sleep either way. Then he heard it again, the tinkling of bells. He spun around and the space in the center of the shrine was occupied.
Wiping away his shock, he greeted his visitor. “What brings you here, priestess?”
The old woman smiled, a wicked smile that he never knew if it meant him good or ill. She wore rough-spun traveling clothes, a brown haori over dark brown hakama, white hair in a braid down her back. She looked ancient, deep creases carved around her mouth and eyes. A crescent-shaped scar on her face gleamed in the moonlight. How she moved silently and appeared without warning, he never knew. She had seemed ancient when he was a young man, and she looked the same now. He was surprised she lived still. Even when she was not dressed as a priestess, she exuded a spiritual aura that even he could see. It was why he had trusted her, once upon a time, but he had second-guessed his actions every day since. He turned his back to the shrine, blocking the priestess from seeing it. Even after all these years, he felt protective of this space. As if guarding it would preserve a piece of Sayuri from others. But the priestess never came to play games, not in all the years he knew her.
“I felt a disturbance in the energy and I thought I would come and visit, old friend.”
“Then you were in the area, for what reason?” he asked directly. If not, she would only answer in riddles, as was her way.
She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. “You have aged since the last time I saw you.” Her long white braid fell forward over her shoulder.
Kitsune: A Little Mermaid Retelling Page 4