The Healer Series: The Complete Set, Books 1-4

by C. J. Anaya

  I clenched my jaw, outraged on her behalf.

  “The emperor informed me that my opinions mattered little. For the good of my mistress and this empire, I was to take samples of your blood every night while you slept and deliver them to the man you saw me with in the garden. He said if I failed to do this or if I told anyone about my specific assignment, his guards would throw me in the dungeons and leave me to starve.”

  I groaned at that. “Aiko, why on earth didn’t you immediately come to me? Why didn’t you tell me what my father had planned?”

  Rivulets of tears ran sad tracks down both of her cheeks. “I thought there could be no harm in taking a little blood every night, and then he couldn’t hurt me, but most importantly he couldn’t hurt you. I didn’t want him anywhere near you, mistress. The things he has done to you, the nightmares you’ve had to endure. I simply couldn’t bear the thought of it.”

  I nodded. It was as I suspected. Aiko, compromised due to her desire to protect me, went along with his nefarious plan, never once understanding the dire consequences of her actions. Placed in an impossible situation, she determined to keep the matter to herself. I had no intention of standing by and allowing this to continue. Aiko would be terrorized no further.

  “Aiko, you must pack your things and leave the palace immediately.”

  She nearly shot off the bed. “No, mistress,” she sobbed, “please, I know it was wrong, but you must allow me to stay with you. You don’t understand the real danger you’re in.”

  “Aiko,” I soothed, placing a hand on her arm, “this is not a punishment. This is an intervention. You are no longer safe here. I won’t allow you to take more blood from me, and once you fail to perform your duties, my father will most likely have you killed...in front of me. It is essential that you escape the palace tonight.”

  “But who will watch over you while I am away?”

  “Katsu is more than capable of handling my father.” When he was actually present, anyway. Strengthening the veil had become more of a burden for him the last few days.

  “Where will I go, and what kind of work could I possibly do?”

  An idea began teasing at the corners of my mind. If I took her with me when I went to train with Musubi tonight, I might be able to enlist his help in offering her protection and ushering her out of Kagami. It might work. It was certainly our only option. Remaining in Kagami or anywhere near the palace jeopardized her own welfare. It was my turn to protect my friend.

  “Aiko, do you trust me?”

  She blinked her eyes to clear away the tears and nodded.

  “Then pack your things and be ready to leave the palace with me. We leave tonight.”

  My plan involved Akane’s assistance. Yao or Chan would have to send word to her to meet me at the outskirts of her camp before my lesson with Musubi. I only hoped they would reach her in time.

  * * *

  As I waited for darkness to settle over the land and for Aiko to return from her quarters with her possessions packed, I paced my room—something I was becoming quite proficient at—and considered how increasingly dangerous my father had become. Leaving the palace and permanently joining the rebels seemed more inevitable and necessary as the days wore on. I desperately wanted to leave, but I felt there were too many things left unsettled between me and Katsu. I would also lose access to the emperor and any information I might have gleaned on behalf of the rebels.

  I not only wanted to share the news of my involvement with the rebels, but I needed to. As Katsu’s friend, at the very least, I could offer him the truth. I certainly owed him that much consideration and respect.

  Yet every time an opportunity presented itself, I hesitated. He hated my father as much as I did, but his unwavering sense of duty bound all of his choices and even his reasoning to achieving the goal of healing the veil by any means necessary. Could he turn from everything he believed to be right and good and adopt a new plan for his future? One that didn’t include our union? Would he come with me and join the rebels?

  I shook my head, knowing his overprotective nature abhorred the thought of surrounding me with soldiers ready to do battle at a moment’s notice.

  The real dilemma involved timing. Did I tell him we weren’t soul mates before I was prepared to leave with Kenji and Saigo? This particularly difficult conversation had to happen sooner rather than later. When he continually failed to heal me he would come to realize that this obstacle had more to do with our compatibility than my physical and spiritual ability to accept his ki.

  As if my thoughts had summoned him to me, I heard a brief knock at my door and then in he came, looking just as magnificent, powerful, and worried as ever.

  “Katsu,” I nearly choked. “Are you well? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  He studied my eyes for a moment, probably to measure the intensity of their blood red color, hoping for some sign of improvement. When he found none he let out a defeated sigh and rubbed a hand over his tired face.

  “How are you, Mikomi?”

  “I…I am feeling more myself lately.” My sad attempt at throwing a positive spin on things did little to change the worry and concern that encompassed the whole of Katsu. I took in his exhausted appearance and ached for him. The burdens of the world hung like a dead weight across his sturdy shoulders; shoulders that appeared slanted and hunched over. These burdens were meant to be shared, but I was incapable of carrying my share of the load as I wished.

  I needed to tell him the truth. I was desperate to tell him everything. Just as I opened my mouth to unload the entirety of my deception, Katsu spoke, derailing my good intentions.

  “I thought that perhaps we might try something a little different this time.”

  My eyebrows narrowed at this, and he pulled out his sword in response.

  “All of my attempts at healing your ki have failed, and each failure leaves me more disheartened than before, though I am not averse to the method.” He granted me a little smile, and I colored as I thought back on the many times he had administered a kiss to bridge that connection.

  “I think it’s hard on both of us, and it certainly doesn’t help your weakened state when our ki reject one another.”

  “What else did you have in mind?”

  “Do you remember that The Grass Cutter Sword amplifies the power of thousands of spirits’ ki from the other side of the veil?”

  I considered where he might be going with this. “Yes, the power the sword is able to channel is incredible, much more than I can handle in the state I am in, especially as a half-mortal.”

  “What if we use the power within the sword to bolster the energy in your ki? It may not allow you to accept me just yet, but there is a chance it could be powerful enough to heal what is broken within you.”

  I thought it a good idea in regards to helping me heal internally, but I knew it would be useless to hope I might be able to accept Katsu, even with the extra power from the sword. No matter what, my soul would never accept his. Thus returning my thoughts to my earlier intent.

  “Katsu—”

  “You think it a bad idea?”

  I took in his wistful manner and the way the small spark of hope twinkling from his beautiful brown orbs seemed to diminish before me. I couldn’t bear to be the cause of it.

  “What would you have me do?”

  He gave me a grateful smile and held his hand out. I willingly took it. He turned me so that my back rested against his chest, and then he brought the sword out in front of us.

  “Place your hands on the grip of the sword,” he whispered close to my ear.

  I tingled at his proximity, but forced my focus on the task he’d given me as I lifted my hands and grabbed the grip, tingling even further when he moved his hands over mine so that we wielded the sword together.

  “Now, I want you to close your eyes and focus your energy into the sword. I don’t want you to touch the veil or even connect with it, I simply want you to channel your own ki into the sword and wai
t for further instructions.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes and doing exactly what Katsu asked of me, though I felt hesitant at first. I remembered the enormous, almost debilitating amount of energy I experienced the first time Katsu gave me his sword and encouraged me to use it. Thousands of ki were at my disposal and the weight of so many spirits nearly crushed me.

  I made a connection with the sword like I would a living being, which, in a sense, the sword was, and then I allowed its power to wash through me as thousands of spirits recognized my presence and then examined my own spirit in the process.

  It was surreal to internalize their emotions. There was concern and anxiety on my behalf. A hint of fear resonated from those who recognized me and what I was meant to accomplish. Those spirits had a right to be distraught over my condition, considering what it might mean for them and for the veil.

  Katsu added his own energy to the sword, channeling it through the grip and bringing it to bear against mine as he slowly enfolded my ki in a heated, yet hesitant embrace. There were hundreds of thousands of ki working around us, attempting to bolster the connection pulsing between Katsu and myself, gaining momentum and power until my mind’s eye saw a flash of white and then an explosion of pain seared my senses.

  When I opened my eyes, Katsu still stood behind me, breathing heavily. I was surprised to discover that the entire experience had done nothing to me physically other than administer a sharp, burning pain before the connection broke off. I turned and guided him to my bed where I eased him into a sitting position.

  “I take it your ki is still damaged?” he asked. He looked as if he was having a difficult time breathing.

  “It remains unchanged, Katsu. I am so sorry this failed to work.”

  He nodded and then stood to leave, but I intervened, thinking it unwise that he move considering his weakened state.

  “Katsu, will you not rest for a little while longer? You have yet to recover your strength.”

  He gifted me a rare smile and sat back upon my bed, patting the space next to him.

  I looked at him in surprise, but acquiesced to his wishes. I had felt so very distant from him emotionally, though his smothering should have had the opposite effect. It was nice to sit next to him in companionable silence.

  I considered how he protected me, took care of me and defended me against my father. I thought about our easy friendship when other, more complicating factors should have prevented us from truly caring for one another.

  Despite my abhorrence at being forced into a marriage with anyone, Katsu had become important to me; a most beloved friend. He was good inside and out, and I wished for the millionth time since I’d met him that my heart yearned for his instead of Musubi’s.

  It would have made our current predicament easier to negotiate. My own choices might have been filled with less turmoil and more certainty, for hardly a choice need have been made, just an easy acceptance of a life crafted especially for myself and Katsu.

  The irony of the entire situation struck me as cruel and unnecessary. Here was a man willing to enter into a relationship with me, one who believed it to be foreordained by our First Parents, but my heart resided elsewhere, and my soul mate remained unidentifiable.

  I carefully studied the worry lines around his eyes, alarmed that he might be troubled enough for wrinkles and creases to actually make an appearance on his immortal face. I refused to burden him with the reality of our situation now. I couldn’t be responsible for etching another line into that comely face of his.

  I fought for some subject that might distract him.

  “Do you remember when you were given The Grass Cutter Sword, Katsu?”

  He looked surprised by the question, but then the tired muscles in his jaw relaxed, and he seemed pleased that I might show interest in the subject.

  “I do. When our First Parents created us, we were already blessed with the knowledge necessary to understand our purpose in this life and how our specific roles in this universe met harmoniously with all kami everywhere. This life is meant to be a happy one no matter the obstacles or difficulties that face human and kami alike.”

  Despair settled in momentarily, leaving me to question what thoughts had just flitted across his mind. He collected himself and continued.

  “To answer your question, I remember when our First Parents explained my role and the importance of maintaining the power of the veil. The Grass Cutter Sword was presented to me during a sacred ceremony that only I and our First Parents attended. I didn’t understand the implications at the time, but I believe they already had misgivings about Amatsu and his desire to take more than what had been promised to him.”

  “If every kami understood their purpose in life and the path they needed to take in order to make themselves and this universe a more harmonious one, why would Amatsu fight this? Why grasp for more?”

  “Just because we came programmed to understand our purpose doesn’t mean our ability to choose was stripped from us. We all had minds of our own and truths that needed to be discovered in our own way. We were given instructions by our First Parents and then left to govern ourselves. Every single kami knew the difference between right and wrong and the consequences of any right or wrong action, but then this life is all about mastering the art of healthy decision making, and even though I’ve lived centuries, I’m sorry to say I have still been known to make poor ones.”

  That awful sadness settled in again, and I wanted to address it, but I feared Katsu would close up and remain awkward around me if he understood the level of my empathic abilities.

  “What was this ceremony like?”

  Katsu smiled and the sadness momentarily left him. “Exhilarating, really. I was given to understand my purpose, my reason for being, and I learned all that there was to learn about The Grass Cutter Sword. Its powers go far beyond that of strengthening the veil. It also holds the power to give second chances to those lives cut short, those spirits who were unable to fulfill their roles in this life.”

  I couldn’t hide my delighted surprise at that.

  “I didn’t know you also had the power to grant new life.”

  Katsu chuckled. “I’m aware of every soul who enters the veil, and if a soul passes through the veil before it has a chance to play the role it was meant to play, then my sword acts as a separator of sorts. That particular spirit will return to a place where souls await their opportunity for either birth or rebirth.”

  “So even humans are assigned specific tasks they must perform in this life?”

  “Every living thing on this Earth must fulfill the mission it was created for and experience any and every emotion possible. There is not one soul more important than the other, despite what humans have dubbed as social rank and class. The Grass Cutter Sword is able to weed out the souls who must be reborn from the souls who were able to get it right the first time so to speak.”

  “Living life right the first time. Sounds like a daunting task to aspire to.”

  “And yet, everyone instinctively wishes to aspire to it. Some souls just take a little longer to understand their purpose and potential than others. In the end, though, I can’t help but believe that we will all experience what we were meant to.”

  “And you always know when a particular soul is separated for rebirth.”

  “In the beginning I did, but I had to learn to compartmentalize that part of my gift. With so many people in this world and thousands dying every day, it would be too much to know when and where a soul is passing through the veil. It nearly drove me mad until I learned to block it from my mind.”

  “You’ve been burdened for some time with this responsibility.”

  “I won’t have to shoulder it by myself for much longer. Our First Parents gave me you, and I truly believe you are all I need.”

  Guilt hammered me with ferocious intensity. How could I tell him that his First Parents gave him nothing at all? It was all a lie. If some special soul was meant for Katsu, it certainly wasn’t me, a
nd I had never heard of any kami, other than Katsu, allowed a companion for all eternity. I couldn’t bear to consider the enormity of his grief when he discovered I wasn’t meant for him after centuries of waiting.

  I shifted uncomfortably in the presence of such hope emanating from his being, and I lost the courage to tell him the truth. I recoiled at the idea of being the one responsible for shattering that hope into a million desolate pieces.

  Instead, I remained silent and cursed my fearful heart.

  * * *

  Convincing Aiko to climb out of my window and lower herself to the ground took some doing. It was only after I enlisted the help of my guards—Yao and Chan—that she agreed to follow me. Not only did she voice reluctance at permanently leaving my side, but her whole countenance felt off in a way I failed to grasp. I didn’t understand her distant manner, and try as I might, I couldn’t pinpoint the source of her somewhat changed aura. She appeared cool and calculating one moment and then frightened and resentful the next. Eventually, I determined that the stress of her predicament must have taken a debilitating toll on her emotional constitution now that she had the opportunity for escape and reflection.

  Once my guards lowered her pack down to us, we took off at a stealthy pace through the gardens and out the back as I had been doing ever since warning Musubi of my father’s intention to attack the rebels’ base camp.

  Upon leaving the gardens and the palace grounds, Aiko felt comfortable enough to speak.

  “Mistress, where exactly are we going now?”

  “I need you to trust me for just a little while longer. My friends will be able to help you once we explain your situation, but I must warn you, they are unaware of my ties to the palace. They simply believe me to be a medicine woman from Daiki’s tavern. We cannot allow them to know my true identity or our affiliation with the palace. Is that understood, Aiko?”

  “I understand. I will do as you say.”

  In the growing darkness I couldn’t see the expression on her face, but I finally grasped hold of her emotions. Her sudden absence of fear was puzzling. She had behaved as if she were terrified, but now that we were off the palace grounds, she lent off an aura of watchful calm. An inappropriate response, considering the necessity of her escape.