by M. H. Bonham
Akira awoke with his head throbbing mercilessly in his ears. He groaned as he lay against hard stone and something lumpy dug into his back. He rolled over and vomited. It was almost completely dark.
Akira? Kasumi’s mental voice touched his mind, and he wiped the bitter taste from his lips with his sleeve. He groped along the floor, and his hand touched the tsuba of his no-dachi.
Windspirit? he whispered mentally to the sword. The sword did not reply.
Akira? Kasumi’s tone became plaintive. Where are you?
I don’t know, he replied, unsure as he picked up the no-dachi. The sword was still intact, but he couldn’t hear it in his mind. Something is wrong here. I can’t hear my sword.
Kasumi paused for a moment. You can hear your sword? It talks to you?
Akira frowned. He hadn’t meant to divulge that, but at this point, he didn’t see any reason not to. Yes, he said. It’s a magic sword. But I can’t hear it now.
I can’t change back either. We’re probably in the Neko dungeons. I’ve heard that there are wards that prevent using most forms of magic.
Akira frowned. He stood up and sheathed the no-dachi. Looking around, he could see that he was in a cell made from stone blocks and fitted with a heavy wooden door. He could feel the wood of the door was thick and seasoned with layers of pine tar and bound with iron.
He stared at the door, bemused. They had let him keep the no-dachi, which meant that they doubted the sword could cut through anything there. It also meant that they weren’t afraid of his attacking the guards either. Perhaps they had some magic that could keep him from fighting them or using the no-dachi. He could sense magic in the cell but couldn’t determine with just his senses whether or not it was something that would preclude him from using Tengu magic.
He stopped himself just as the thought occurred to him. Did he dare throw everything away to use the Tengu magic to escape the dungeon? He looked bleakly at the door again. Without Windspirit’s magic or counsel, he felt powerless. What good was it to be human if the demons broke through the Kimon and he did nothing? He would die in this dank place far from home. What did it matter anyway?
Akira-kun? Kasumi’s mental voice broke through his dark thoughts.
Hold on, Kasumi-chan, he said softly. I’ll get us out; I promise.
Wait. I hear footsteps.
Akira paused. He tried listening but heard nothing except a trickle of water. Are you sure?
A low growl reverberated in his mind. I smell ryu.
Ryu? Did the fire dragon get here somehow? Akira’s hand strayed to the no-dachi.
“Akira-san, is that you?” Hiroshi’s voice whispered through the door.
It’s me, Hiroshi. Where have you been? Akira almost laughed and clapped his hands in elation.
“I thought that hiding might be a good idea. Ninja are good at that.”
I’ll say. The Neko are looking for you. Can you open this?
Akira-kun, what is going on? Kasumi’s mental voice held a tinge of worry.
Hiroshi is working to get us out.
Silence followed as he heard what sounded like faint scratching against metal. The door clicked open and swung in. Before Akira could thank him, Hiroshi was working on a door next to his. The ninja had a small instrument in his hand that looked like a thin chopstick, maneuvering it in and out of the keyhole.
“How did you open this?” Akira whispered. “There’s so much magic protecting these cells.”
Hiroshi grinned wryly. “That’s the problem with kami. They’re always thinking that magic protects everything, but they forget about the simple robber with a lock pick.” The lock clicked and he pulled the handle. “That’s why we ninja are so effective. We’re not above trying nonmagical means.”
Kasumi, in her tiger form, peered out. Thank you, Hiroshi. She sighed. We’d best get out of here. She stepped out and snuffed the air. We can make it back to the Kimon if we hurry.
“For what purpose?” Hiroshi said. “To get locked up again?”
He’s right, you know, came Windspirit’s voice in Akira’s head. The Neko will lock you up again.
Akira frowned. “We can’t go back the way we came; we don’t have a boat anymore.”
Kasumi glared at him. I won’t leave. I can’t let Nanashi destroy my people.
Akira glanced at Hiroshi, who gave him a helpless shrug. “I overheard Keiko say that Nanashi’s forces have breached the second and third walls,” the ninja said.
Kasumi gasped. So soon? She looked at Akira, and he could see fear in the tiger’s eyes.
“He must have some sort of special magic,” Akira said, glancing back at the no-dachi for confirmation. The sword made no reply. “It’s true, though. If we return to the Guardian, she’ll just lock us back up. Maybe we could get to the surface and help protect the gates.”
At that moment, a huge explosion shook the passage, throwing them to the ground.
Chapter One Hundred
Akira rolled and leaped to his feet, Windspirit in hand. From somewhere beyond the passage, he heard the sounds of metal on metal and the screams of men and wild cats. His heart pounded in his ears as smoke tinged with sulfur met his nostrils. The sounds of battle echoed wildly throughout the hall but seemed to come from a corridor that headed off to the left and upward out of sight. The choking clouds came from that direction. He could taste the acrid smoke mixed with bile in his mouth.
For a moment, none of them moved. Kasumi had hunched down in a crouched position, her body tense and muscles rippling beneath the fur. Her forked tail lashed furiously as she listened to the sounds. Hiroshi stood ready, his dual ninjato in his hands and his face grim. Akira wondered if the Shinobi would leave or if he would join them in this fight—if they had to fight.
The narrow passage left little space for Akira to wield the no-dachi. Still, he felt the great sword would be far more effective than his nonmagical katana or wakizashi. He could feel Windspirit thrum with power, almost as if the no-dachi anticipated the battle to come.
An explosion rocked the floor, and Akira did everything he could to keep his footing. Even so, he ended up catching himself with his left hand on the wall. With the explosion came more smoke and light. Behind the smoke were the shadows of monsters.
Akira stared and, for the first time since the Akuma, was afraid. The creatures coming toward them seemed surreal—large demons in helmets with curved horns and glowing eyes behind the samurai masks. They were armored like men, but he could see that their skin was as red as fresh blood and the stench of sulfur preceded them. They wore the colors of samurai clans and carried katana in their meaty paws.
Akira-chan, those used to be men. Kasumi’s mental voice quavered, echoing his own terror. He didn’t dare turn his gaze for fear he would falter.
I should become Tengu, Akira thought wildly. I failed with the Akuma; if it hadn’t been for the okami, I would’ve died.
Akira-san, came Rokuro’s voice. I am here with you. You need not fear the oni; these are not Akuma. You will defeat them. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself and become Tengu here.
The words of his old sensei were like a gentle breeze along a choppy ocean. Rokuro’s confidence calmed him and he nodded. “They are no worse than anything else I have fought,” he whispered.
The first demon strode through the sulfurous smoke. With a yell, Akira leaped on the creature, slashing the no-dachi down in a single diagonal strike from shoulder to hip. The demon raised its sword, but Windspirit flashed and cut through it. The no-dachi slashed into armor and through bone and flesh. The demon screamed and collapsed in a smoldering heap.
Before he could turn on the next demon, Kasumi pounced, knocking the creature down. She tore through the demon’s armor with her claws and ripped the oni’s throat out. But before Akira could assist, another demon attacked, and he slammed the no-dachi into the oni’s eyes. The creature howled as black blood spurted everywhere, covering Akira in a foul, sticky mess.
A demon screamed some
where behind him. Glancing back, Akira saw that Hiroshi had wrapped the demon up by the legs with a kusarigama chain and buried the blade deep into the creature’s chest. “Akira! Watch out!”
Akira turned in time to see another demon bear down on him. Hiroshi threw shuriken at the demon, and the throwing stars hit the creature in the face. It screamed in pain and rage, and Akira brought the no-dachi across and cut the oni in two.
For a brief moment, Akira stood, expecting more attackers, but when none came, he glanced at his companions. Kasumi’s mouth and claws were black with demon blood, and Hiroshi was pulling the throwing stars from the dead oni’s face. He was covered with the foul blood, but it couldn’t be helped. “Is that it?”
“Unlikely,” Hiroshi said. “Those demons probably were sent to search down the corridors for anyone. Most of them would probably go towards the Kimon.”
The Kimon! Kasumi’s mental voice was near panic. Akira-kun, they’ve opened up the Kimon.
I don’t think so, said Windspirit. These are men who became oni. There would be far worse demons than this coming through the Kimon.
“Windspirit doesn’t think so,” Akira said. “He says these oni used to be men.”
“Your sword says this?” Hiroshi looked at the no-dachi quizzically.
“Long story.” Akira turned to Kasumi. “Could the Guardian hold the Kimon?”
Kasumi’s face looked pained. There are the wards and the dragon, assuming they can get by them. Then it depends how many are attacking her. She has her guard and magic, but I don’t think she can hold off a whole army.
Akira started forward but Hiroshi gripped his arm. “What do you think we’d be able to do against an entire army? The Guardian is more powerful than any of us; if she can’t destroy the demons, what hope have we?”
Akira halted and stared at the ninja. Hiroshi made sense. Then again, what was the right thing for him to do? Kasumi had sacrificed everything to save his life to bring him here. It was not his choice, but hers. As a samurai, he had a duty to fight, even if that fight was not winnable. He turned and looked at her. “What do you want to do, Kasumi-chan?”
A low growl issued from her throat. We have to guard the Kimon, even if it means dying. If the demons come through the gate…
You would not want to live in such a world, Windspirit said. The devastation would be unimaginable if the demon gate opened. Flesh-eating demons would gorge on people and raze the land.
Akira closed his eyes and was met with a terrifying vision of Tsuitori-jima in flames, Akuma carrying off people and ripping them apart, blood running fast and thick like rivers. He could see the Tengu as they tried to battle the demons but to no avail. Even the most powerful hurricanes could not beat back the oni. He shuddered as he watched the demons pluck the Tengu from the sky and crack open their bones to eat their marrow…
He met Hiroshi’s gaze. “She’s going and so am I.”
“You’ll die.”
“Some fates are worse than death. Do you want to live in a world where demons walk the land? A quick death would be merciful.”
Without waiting for the Shinobi’s response, Akira turned and led the way up the passage.
Chapter One Hundred One
The way back to the Kimon was thick with smoke. Despite his fears, Hiroshi agreed to lead them back to the demon gate. The underground passages crisscrossed confusingly, and Akira was glad to have the ninja with them. Without the Shinobi’s sense of direction, he was certain they would get lost in this warren of tunnels. The stench of sulfur so overwhelmed them that Kasumi announced she couldn’t smell anything other than the smoke, even with her Neko senses.
They met no further opposition in the tunnels as they headed down toward the Kimon. Hiroshi explained that the tunnel was an offshoot to the main tunnels and it was unlikely that Nanashi would send any more men or demons to investigate because his true goal was the Kimon and not the dungeons. Still, Akira kept his no-dachi out and ready.
As they approached the crossroads to the main corridor that led to the Kimon, they saw the glow of torchlight or fire. Akira looked askance to both Kasumi and Hiroshi, who were both taut and ready to fight. They could hear the footfalls of an army marching up the hallway toward the Kimon.
Just before the crossroads to the main tunnel, Hiroshi held up his hand and turned to them. “We don’t dare enter the passage without some sort of magic,” he whispered. “Do either of you have the ability to cloak yourself?”
Akira frowned. As a Tengu, he could become invisible at will. But if he chose to do this now… “I would have to violate my promise.”
Hiroshi harrumphed and gazed at the samurai. “I have the ability to become invisible, and I might be able to extend it to one but not both of you.”
I can become a small cat, Kasumi interrupted his thoughts. The tiger transformed into a tiny black cat, almost invisible in the smoke and darkness.
Hiroshi nodded. “You’ll have to stay close, Stormhammer, and don’t cut me with that pig-sticker.”
Pig-sticker, indeed! Windspirit snorted and Akira almost laughed.
Hiroshi made odd, hypnotic gestures, and Akira felt the tingle of magic as it enveloped him. He glanced down and could still see his body. He frowned and glanced back at Hiroshi. To his dismay, the ninja was still visible. “I can see you.”
Hiroshi nodded. “It’s a cloak that covers us both,” he whispered back. “Kasumi won’t see us.”
I can’t see you, Kasumi confirmed. I can smell you both, though.
Mollified, Akira started ahead, only to feel the ninja’s grip on his arm. “You can’t go too far from me, or you lose your invisibility.”
“How far?”
“No more than five feet.”
“It’s hard to keep that distance in a fight,” Akira grumbled.
“If you’re swinging that pig-sticker, you’ll blow our cover anyway when the demons start losing their heads.”
Akira chuckled and nodded. “Good point.”
#
They walked forward, Akira leading the way, despite Hiroshi’s protestations. Akira had to give credit to the ninja for bravery, but he felt that of the three, Windspirit was the most capable weapon when it came to killing oni. While he was certain Kasumi could take on a demon in her tiger form, she was vulnerable as a housecat, and her transformation took precious seconds. She walked beside him, her tail touching his leg with each step.
Akira stopped as they reached the intersection. Before him, hundreds of troops marched toward the demon gate. Many were samurai but some were demons and ashigaru. He wondered how the warriors had gotten past the dragon or the other traps. He glanced at Hiroshi, who nodded and stepped forward, hugging the luminescent wall to avoid the troops.
The corridor was wide enough to allow them to skirt the soldiers that marched through the cavern. Akira hesitated as he saw samurai of various clans and colors, their eyes glazed as if they were unaware of their surroundings or what they did. He noted that a demon led each company of samurai and ashigaru. He wondered if the demon might be controlling the men and wondered, too, how Nanashi might have brought so many demons into this world without using the Kimon.
He would have to summon them, Windspirit said. A time-consuming process, but if he was determined to have leaders for his army, summoning demons would be the way to do it.
Then why does he even bother with the Kimon? Akira asked.
Because he wants to bring in thousands or hundreds of thousands of demons, not just a dozen or so.
The realization sent a shiver through Akira, and he stared at the men. If just a few demons could do this, what would hundreds of thousands do to humans? He shuddered inwardly.
As they entered the dragon’s chamber, Akira had the answer to his question about how they had gotten past the beast.
The great dragon lay dead, its broken body contorted at an odd angle suggesting that its neck had been snapped by something powerful. Its fiery eyes no longer held their flame but stared, g
lassy, at the entrance, as though the last thing it saw was its attacker. Its jaws were slightly parted, displaying its sharp and brilliantly white teeth. A trickle of blood still dripped from its mouth into a widening pool of black gore. Its claws were curled in tight fists as though its death had been painful.
Akira halted and stared at the beast. The ryu had been a magnificent creature, and even though Tengu were natural enemies of the dragons, he felt a twinge of sadness. This creature most likely never saw its attacker, let alone fought it. Akira could feel the tingle of strong magic around the dead ryu. Whoever used magic to attack it must be very powerful. A wizard such as this could kill his enemies before they even had a chance to defend themselves.
He glanced at Hiroshi and could see the ninja was thinking the same thing. He felt Kasumi rub against his ankle. Nanashi doesn’t know we’re here, she said. Surprise will be our strength.
Let us hope that will be enough, Akira thought darkly.
Chapter One Hundred Two
The corridor that led from the dragon’s chamber to the Kimon was filled with torchlight from both caverns. Akira could hear snarling, screaming, and the clash of swords, but nothing prepared him for what he saw at the Kimon.
The cavern seethed with samurai and warriors. Tigers, leopards, and other great cats pounced on the attacking samurai and tore through the enemy’s ranks in a blur of blood and fur. Men who waded out in the water screamed as the large kappa attacked and dragged them under to drown. They splashed, trying to resist the strong claws of the water sprite, and one man even tried to slash at the kappa with his sword. The katana glanced harmlessly off the creature’s hide, and it tore into the man, ripping his entrails out.
Neko warriors materialized along the banks and charged. Some took the form of human warriors, but many were large cats. The Neko warriors, both men and women, wielded their katana as viciously as Akira had seen Tengu fight.
For a moment, it looked as though the Neko were winning. But then Akuma demons appeared in the middle of the fray and wielded their terrible flaming swords. Cats screamed along either side of the oni as they mercilessly cut them down. Neko samurai attacked, only to have the oni’s flaming swords cleave their own katana.