Turesobei gazed south, back toward the Forbidden Library. “I can feel Awasa getting close. She’s not far away now.”
“I can sense her, too,” Hannya said telepathically.
“Do we need to keep moving?” Iniru said.
“The mounts have got to have some rest now, or we’ll kill them within an hour or two,” Narbenu said.
Turesobei frowned. “I think we have enough of a lead. We’ll get up as early as we can and head out.”
* * *
Turesobei woke. The snow house was barely lit. Kemsu was pulling on his parka and his overboots.
“Narbenu went outside to get the mounts ready,” Kemsu whispered. “Thought I’d go help him. I couldn’t sleep either. And I do need to repair a strap on one of the saddles.”
“Worried about leaving your world?”
“Yeah,” Kemsu whispered. “Narbenu and I both are, but we’ll be all right. I just want to keep busy so I don’t think about it too much, you know.”
Turesobei yawned and tried to pry his eyes open. “You need me to help?”
“No, you rest. You’ve got about another hour before the sky starts to lighten. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
“I’ll send Motekeru out with you.”
Kemsu drew a hanging blanket back, revealing Motekeru in the corner on the girls’ side. He was cradling Kurine, with Enashoma and the hounds curled up against him. Since he’d eaten the vine spirit’s heart, Motekeru’s body generated more heat than anyone else’s by far. Without a blanket under him, he would have melted the ice overnight.
“I don’t want to disturb them.”
Drifting off, Turesobei nodded in understanding.
He slept until Hannya, in her human form, appeared to him within a dream and yelled, “Turesobei, wake up! Now!”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Hannya’s shout thundered through his brain.
Turesobei snapped awake.
A tall, slender form shot toward him. A dagger flashed in the wan light of a star stone — white-steel!
“Twist left!” Hannya warned.
Turesobei wrenched his body to the left. The white-steel dagger missed his heart and sliced across his ribs. He grabbed the hilt of Fangthorn.
“The other way!” Hannya said.
Turesobei twisted back to the right. The second strike also missed his heart, but stabbed deep into his shoulder. The assailant didn’t draw the blade out. Instead, she twisted the blade and grabbed him by the neck with her free hand.
Warmth drained out of him.
His eyes locked onto the face of his opponent.
“Lady Umora,” he gasped.
An orange paint that reeked of decay was smeared onto her face and body.
“Took me weeks to track you down,” she sneered. “Figured out a way to stay hidden from your magic using togokagi egg yolks. And whatever spell you used to trick the yomon at the library, it didn’t work on me.”
His companions woke. Motekeru and Iniru launched into action, but another yolk-painted reitsu dove into the snow house and intercepted them. For the agile reitsu, fighting in the close confines of the snow house wasn’t a hindrance, but Motekeru was limited since he couldn’t even stand up straight, except in the center of the room.
Turesobei thought about opening the connection to the storm mark, to kill Umora the way he’d killed her brother, but he was groggy, wounded, and unprepared. He wasn’t sure he could keep the storm energy in check this time.
“Unleash your dragon energy on me, if you dare,” Lady Umora said, sensing his thoughts. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got nothing left to live for. You can kill me easily enough, but I’ve already had my revenge. I’ve made sure the yomon will catch up to you.”
He was losing vital warmth rapidly. There had to … be another … way.
Hannya whispered telepathically, “Let me out. I can take care of her.”
“Hannya,” he said. “Strike.”
Shadows poured from the blade and wrapped around Umora, who released her grip on Turesobei and stumbled back, screaming. Umora swung the white-steel dagger and cut through the shadows, piercing a fiery vein. Hannya screeched and drew away. Staggering, Lady Umora smiled and brandished the white-steel dagger.
It was the last thing she ever did.
Motekeru’s claws ripped through Umora’s neck, and her head bounced across the floor, trailing blood on the ice.
Zaiporo, Iniru, Lu Bei, and the hounds had cornered the other reitsu, who was fighting like mad. Iniru and Zaiporo had both been wounded several times. Shoma was backed into a corner, unable to do anything to help. The hounds were shielding her and seemed to be looking for a way they could dart in to help, but there just wasn’t enough space. Hannya’s flaming eyes opened within the shadow. She zipped over Iniru’s head and, like a viper, struck the reitsu, swallowing him whole. When she peeled away moments later, the reitsu was cold and silent. Still, Motekeru cut the reitsu’s throat for good measure.
“Kemsu and Narbenu,” Turesobei said, placing his palm over the wound in his shoulder to stop the bleeding. “They were getting the mounts ready.”
Lu Bei zipped outside, followed by Motekeru and Iniru.
Zaiporo clutched his arm. Blood seeped out from between his fingers. “I’ll stay here with the hounds and guard Shoma and Kurine. Be careful.”
“You okay?”
“I’ll bind his wound,” Shoma said. “What about you?”
Turesobei pulled his palm away. Blood was flowing freely through all the layers of fur. He looked at his ribs but didn’t see any blood yet. “I can manage.”
Turesobei could endure the pain. He was getting used to it, and this wasn’t as bad as the mark the Keeper of Scrolls had burned into his chest.
Fangthorn in hand, Turesobei crawled, slowly, out through the entrance, with Hannya flowing after him. No other reitsu were in sight. Lu Bei flew up and circled around as Motekeru and Iniru leapt down into the trench where they kept the mounts. Hannya spread out from the sword into her full shadow form.
“I will keep a look out as well,” she said. “And do my best to intimidate any further attackers.”
Turesobei rushed over to the edge and looked down.
“Oh no.” He fell to his knees. “This — this can’t be.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Narbenu … blood flowed from his throat and pooled on the ice. His head was bent back at an awkward angle, and his eyes were as cold and lifeless as the Glass Sea. Kemsu lay nearby. Bloodstains were spreading across his parka in three different places. A deep blue bruise stained his neck, rising up onto his cheeks.
“Niru,” Kemsu gasped hoarsely as she took his hand. “Reitsu … ambushed us … out of … nowhere.”
“Rest,” she told him.
“Narbenu … threw himself in front … to save me.” He winced in pain. “Kurine …”
“Everyone else is okay,” she said. “Just a few cuts is all.”
“Let’s get him inside,” Turesobei said.
Motekeru lifted Kemsu and carried him into the snow house. Iniru held Kemsu’s hand as they went.
Only then did the full weight of what had happened register for Turesobei.
A deep pool of blood filled the other end of the trench. The reitsu had slit the throats of the sonoke — all of them. That’s why Lady Umora had been certain of her revenge. With no mounts, there was no way to outrace the yomon.
Turesobei marshaled his emotions. He had to keep calm and lead everyone, and he had to heal Kemsu. “Lu Bei?”
“I don’t see anything, master, but I’ll keep circling.”
Palm placed against his shoulder, he moved toward the snow house. But Hannya took on her human form and stopped him.
“Why are you blocking me?”
“You are wounded,” she replied. “You cannot heal him while you are injured and losing so much blood yourself.” She drew his hand away. “Will you allow me this time?”
Turesobei nodded. “Do
it fast.”
With her hand hovering over the wound, Hannya chanted the spell of summer healing. The casting was perfect. A soothing warmth flowed into the wounds and into his bones. The wound sealed over, and the pain dulled. It would take some time to recover fully from the wounds, since they hadn’t taken the time to bind or clean them first, but he could function, and that was all he cared about now.
“First spell I have cast in an age,” she said, proudly. “I think it went well.”
“Perfect. When we get inside, could you heal Zaiporo and Iniru?”
“Of course.”
Turesobei crawled inside. Shoma met him at the entrance.
“Sobei … Narbenu?”
Turesobei shook his head.
She put her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Shoma, be strong and brave. We have much to do. I need you and Motekeru to go outside and get the gear off the sonoke. Only the essentials.”
Shoma shook her head in confusion. “Why … why would we need to … oh no.”
Turesobei nodded. “Get only what we can carry on foot.”
Enashoma took a step toward the entrance and then stopped, her eyes wide. She gasped and stumbled backward. Zaiporo almost screamed, and Iniru flinched. Turesobei spun around, worried, but then relaxed. They hadn’t yet seen Lady Hannya in her human form, with her fangs and claws, her black skin and vermilion hair, and the ghost of a ruby kavaru at her navel, visible through her gossamer dress.
“Do not be alarmed,” Hannya said. “I am your friend.”
“Zaiporo,” said Turesobei, “Lady Hannya is going to heal your wound while I tend Kemsu, okay?”
Zaiporo nodded, trancelike, and then bowed to Hannya. “My lady, thank you.”
Enashoma bowed quickly too, and then darted outside. Motekeru said nothing to Hannya nor showed any special reaction to her. Iniru returned her attention to Kemsu. She had removed his parka and shirt to expose the three wounds that were still oozing blood. The reitsu had stabbed him twice in the stomach and once near the heart. Turesobei knelt beside him.
“Pierced lung,” Iniru whispered.
Kemsu shivered; his teeth were chattering. “So cold.”
Iniru placed a star stone beside him and tapped it to full strength. “I don’t have time to bandage the wounds. And there’s not much I can do.”
Hannya said telepathically to Turesobei, “The boy is fading into the Shadowland already. There is nothing you can do for him.”
“Watch me try,” Turesobei thought back at her.
“Wait one moment, then,” she said.
She finished the healing spell on Zaiporo. He thanked her profusely then said, “I’ll help Shoma and Motekeru. There’s nothing I can do here but get in the way.”
Hannya knelt beside Kemsu. “Do you know the spell of blood binding? That would stop the bleeding and aid the healing spell.”
“I know of it from Chonda Lu’s grimoire, but I can only do Kaiaru spells that involve storm energy, and those only at risk of becoming the dragon.”
“I will do it, then.” Hannya chanted the spell. The bleeding stopped.
Turesobei then cast the spell of winter healing and put everything he had into it. A white cloud of energy formed over Kemsu’s chest and seeped in. Kemsu’s eyes brightened, and his color improved. Turesobei felt relieved. Maybe Kemsu would be okay. Maybe Hannya was wrong.
Kemsu convulsed and coughed up blood. Not good. The magic hadn’t sealed the wounds inside well enough. There was only so much that accelerating natural healing could do when the damage was extensive, or when it affected internal organs.
Turesobei opened his kenja-sight and sighed. The problem wasn’t just the wounds. The reitsu had stolen most of Kemsu’s vital energy, too. Hannya was right. Even if the spell had fixed his wounds, it wouldn’t have been enough.
“I’m … I’m not going … to make it,” Kemsu said. “Reitsu … took a lot of warmth … that’s why I’m so cold.” He coughed up blood again. His eyes met Turesobei’s. “Not wrong … am I?”
“This is my fault,” Turesobei said. “All of it. I’m so sorry, Kemsu.”
“Don’t be,” Kemsu replied. “Had … adventure of a lifetime … if a bit short. We nearly got you … there.”
“Thank you,” Turesobei said. “I will be eternally grateful.” He sat back with exhaustion and disbelief.
“Leave us out on … the ice. That’s … our way.” Kurine lay nearby. Kemsu reached out and touched her hand. He strained a smile as tears welled in his eyes. “You will … see to her …”
“I will,” Turesobei said. “I promise.”
“Niru, I …” She took his hand. Wracked with spasms, he retched up more blood. “Do you think … you and me …”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek and whispered something in his ear. He smiled and let go. His last breath seeped out.
Iniru closed his eyes. She began to sob, and Turesobei took her in his arms. What could he say?
“At least he could smile at the end,” Turesobei said.
“At least,” she replied numbly.
“What did you tell him?”
“A lie.”
* * *
Hannya healed Iniru and returned to Fangthorn. Motekeru carried both bodies out and placed them on the ice, away from the scene of the carnage. With his claws, he etched a big circle in the ice around them and wrote their names beside them. Turesobei allowed Hannya to leave the blade. As the Earth Dragon, she hovered over them like a shroud. Lu Bei recited an ancient poem honoring fallen heroes, and Turesobei asked the Crimson Sun to bless the two goronku. Enashoma spoke the Prayer to the Greater Deities.
When it was done, Hannya said, “Their spirits have now passed on to the beyond.”
“You can know that?” Iniru asked.
“I am deeply connected to the Shadowland,” Hannya replied.
“Did they … did they go on to Paradise?” Enashoma asked.
“That I cannot say. What I do know is that they did not wander the Shadowland aimlessly, and they passed on peacefully. I believe that means they found Paradise or Oblivion. I do not think a peaceful soul goes to Torment.”
“Thank you,” Iniru said, wiping a tear away.
They pulled their reduced-to-essentials packs onto their backs and marched, painstakingly because there was no other way to do it, over the slippery ice. Turesobei gave Iniru the white-steel dagger, since he had Fangthorn. Lady Hannya walked with them in her human form, carrying a pack for them. They spoke little to one another. Even Lu Bei remained silent, staying in book form. After all the dangers they had knowingly faced, death had struck — silent, swift, and unexpected. It seemed unreal, and yet far too real at the same time.
Turesobei had known this was bound to happen eventually, that they would lose one or more of their group, but that didn’t make this any easier. He felt powerless. What if Hannya hadn’t woken him? What if the reitsu had then killed Shoma and Iniru? He tried to block it out of his mind. He could blame himself later for not sending Motekeru out with them, or for not doing another scan. He still had the others to save. And Kurine. He wanted to make certain at least one of the goronku made it through this.
“Sobei,” Iniru said, “if the yomon catch up to us, can you beat them?”
“I really don’t want to find out,” Turesobei said.
“We might not have a choice,” Iniru said.
“If it comes to it, yes. The yomon didn’t have any way to counter the Storm Dragon before. I could fly above them and rain lightning down on them. I really don’t see how anything could resist that.”
“You underestimate your enemies,” said Lady Hannya. “The Shogakami imprisoned the yomon here for a reason. The last one hundred and eight out of the thousand that invaded Okoro — the Shogakami could not kill them. Think about that. Nine Shogakami could not beat these yomon. Trickery imprisoned them here. That is all they could do without white-steel, which was exceedingly rare here in Okoro.”
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It had all but disappeared by the time the baojendari had arrived. Turesobei had been surprised to see Amasan and Tepebono use the arrow in the vision Hannya had shown him.
“But I destroyed twenty of them!” he said.
“You caught them off guard,” said Lady Hannya, “but they will be ready for you next time. After a few minutes of exposure, yomon naturally recalibrate to the kenja signatures used near them. Once they are in synch, they are resistant to those signatures. So next time, your lightning will not harm them, and neither will Motekeru’s fire burn them. You will have to fight them on the ground, and they will be able to hurt you, while it may be impossible for you to hurt them at all.”
“Good thing I didn’t transform to fight them earlier,” Turesobei said with relief. “I’d be stuck as the Storm Dragon, and the rest of you would’ve died.”
“Comforting,” Zaiporo muttered.
“What about you, Lady Hannya?” Iniru asked. “Could you destroy the yomon? Are you as strong as the Storm Dragon?”
Eyes aflame, her voice crackling with power, Hannya rounded on Iniru and yelled madly, “I have always been stronger than Naruwakiru! Only when she took on the jade heart was she more powerful than me.”
Turesobei put a hand on Hannya’s arm. “Iniru doesn’t know about your history with the Storm Dragon. Relax. Focus.”
Hannya took several deep breaths, and then her features began to soften. After a few minutes, she spoke again, though she didn’t apologize for the outburst, just as she hadn’t apologized to Turesobei for what she had put him through.
“The binding limits me in my dragon form, because I cannot fully emerge from the sword. Still, as a dragon, I am certain I could beat a fair number of them, but I would not be able to defeat them all or shield the rest of you during the battle. And this Awasa, she has a white-steel sword. Should she attack me with it … that would be very inconvenient.”
* * *
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 97