Barefoot on the Wind

by Zoe Marriott

  “I don’t expect you to forgive anyone. But you have had your revenge, one hundred years of it, and it has brought you no happiness. No peace. Hate is a burden that never gets lighter, and its weight does no one any good. It would harm me to cling to it – and so I chose instead to lay it down. Not for their sakes, but for mine. And so may you. You may choose to lay that weight down … Oyuki.”

  The snow maiden became – if possible – even more still. She stared at me, transfixed. I forced myself to meet her eyes, though the sight of that grotesquely perfect face, and the terrible burning eyes, made my stomach churn and the bile taste surge into my mouth again. I could feel my own fate, and Itsuki’s fate, and the fate of my village, teetering on the edge of a knife, as she and I looked into one another’s faces. Something flickered in her expression, and I saw it: the humanity inside her. The spirit of that passionate brave girl whom Itsuki had known so long ago. She was still in here. If only—

  She jerked in place, like a horse that feels the lash of its rider’s whip. Her hair and gown flared around her as her eyes began to burn once more, black with ancient power and fury, searing away all trace of Oyuki and who she had once been.

  “No! No one shall take my power from me. I will never be powerless again!”

  Before I could speak, or even move, I was seized from behind. A dead servant lifted me from my feet as if I weighed nothing, its dry, spindly arms crossing over my chest so that my own arms were trapped, clamped to my sides. A second servant plucked the bow from my grasp, wrenching my fingers painfully when I tried to cling to it.

  “Give her to him!” The Yuki-Onna was screaming as the servants dragged me towards her. “Put her in the cage with her precious beast, and let us see how she deals with his true self. My curse will have its due!”

  The curse…

  Oyuki was not in control here. She was no longer the mistress of the dark magic that she had unleashed, if she ever had been. It was the curse that ruled the maze, the curse that governed her – and with a terrible sinking of despair I knew that this meant my quest had always been impossible, for a curse could not be reasoned with. It would not give up its victims, whose suffering were the source of its own existence, and willingly dwindle away into nothing. The curse would seek only to perpetuate itself, on and on, forever, extracting its “due” from beastly Oyuki and beautiful Itsuki until there was nothing left of either one of them.

  There was never any hope. I had failed before I even began.

  With a sickening grinding of dry bones, the top of the cage opened. The servant dropped me inside. I landed ungracefully, letting out a hard grunt as I sprawled on the frozen ground. The top of the cage fell back into place with a crack that rattled the bars and made the dead faces set into them moan softly. I had no attention to spare for that, though – for the noise had also caused the huddled lump of Itsuki to stir beneath the dark, muffling folds of his old cloak.

  “He’s going to kill you,” the Yuki-Onna said, speaking softly now. She had come down from her throne, and the snow-dusted white and black folds of her moth dress swept softly past the bars of the cage as she trailed around it. “He won’t be able to help himself, for that is his true nature. He will kill you, just as he killed me – and when he awakens and realizes what he has done? Oh, then, at last, he will taste the suffering I know, the agony that I endured when I watched the man I loved die because of me.”

  A sort of rumbling moan – nothing at all like the soft rumble of Itsuki’s human voice – emanated from under the cloak.

  Every nerve in my body turned to a wire of steel, trembling with tension, and I scrambled backwards, drawing my knees up and pressing myself against the bone bars of the cage so hard that they stung the skin of my back, even through all the layers I wore.

  I knew what it was that was under Itsuki’s cloak.

  It was not Itsuki.

  It was not my Itsuki.

  “This will destroy him,” the Yuki-Onna murmured, bending low, as if she spoke a secret. “The grief, the guilt, the horror. Nothing else has, but you will, Hana-san. When he sees what he has done to you, he will go mad. Just like me. But I would not want you to think me … unfair. So here. I’ve fixed this for you.”

  Something slipped through a narrow gap in the roof of the cage and landed near my feet with a dull thud. I reached for it automatically. It was the quartz hatchet, its battered wooden handle smooth and familiar under my fingers. But the simple blade was changed. It glittered with a scintillating, dead white frost that I would not have dared to even brush with my bare skin.

  “It will cut him now. Perhaps you will even survive – if you are willing to tear him apart the way he tore you apart. Are you merciful enough to end his life before he ends yours? Let’s see if you really are willing to break the curse. To save us both. Let’s see how much your fine talk is worth.”

  The Yuki-Onna turned and swept away, and as she did, Itsuki’s cloak at last slid off to reveal the creature underneath. A monster with a glowing silver-white pelt, jagged black markings, and a long silky mane. A great cat, with paws as large as gig-wheels, and glassy, poison-green eyes.

  Seized by the instincts of an animal which knows it is prey, I froze in place, desperately trying to evade the hunter’s attention through stillness. But those eyes found me all the same. They considered me with the chilling, alien intelligence I remembered … and no hint of recognition at all.

  The eyes slid down to the weapon I still clutched. The beast’s muzzle wrinkled back from its teeth, and the jaw gaped in a snarl. The mouth and tongue burned, red hot, behind the teeth. Steam filled the cage.

  It was going to leap at any second. Either I would get in a wild, lucky blow, sever an artery or do some other awful damage that would fell the cat – or I would die horribly under its teeth and claws, screaming and bloody and struggling.

  And then Itsuki, brave, kind Itsuki, the most decent, most human person I had ever met, would have to live with my death for the rest of his life. Powered by his anguish, the curse would make that life last an eternity. Because Itsuki loved me.

  How could I not have seen it? Everything that he had done proved it. Bringing me fully into his peculiar life with every bit of warmth and comfort he had. Laying out all the truth of what he had done for my judgement, and holding nothing back, not even his most shamed self-loathing. Bringing me here himself to confront the Yuki-Onna, and facing her down, and then sending me away, back to my family, without ever a word that would reproach me. He had cared for my safety and happiness more than for anything the Yuki-Onna might do to him.

  Did I love him in return? The moment I faced myself with that question, it seemed ridiculous even to ask. I loved Itsuki not like a raging fire or a crashing wave, or any of the other things named by besotted young men in their serenades, but like a woman loves the golden sun on her face, the sweet clean air in her lungs, the good earth under her feet. I loved him the way that you love all the things which are both vitally necessary and absolutely reliable. Things that you never even have to stop to be grateful for, because they just are, and without them you would not be.

  I had failed to save Oyuki, and I had failed to free my village. At this, I would not, could not, fail. I would not allow myself to be used to destroy Itsuki.

  In a frantic movement, I raised the quartz hatchet high above my head. The frosted blade flashed and trembled between my shaking hands. The beast roared, blasting me with another cloud of steam. It uncoiled and stood, every line of the sinuous muscular body exuding menace.

  I shoved the hatchet up, as hard as I could, back through the gap in the lid of the cage. Then I let go. The weapon clattered down the outside of the bone bars and landed in the snow, out of reach.

  The beast lunged forwards.

  I lifted both hands to show they were empty, closed my eyes and sang.

  “Copper fish, dance, dance

  Leaves falling on silver pool

  Autumn rain, fall, fall.

  Autumn le
aves, dance, dance

  Float in pool of copper fish

  Silver rain, fall, fall.”

  Even as the words wobbled and croaked out of my dry throat, I expected the monster’s terrible breath to scald me, the crushing pain of its bite, the tearing swipe of claws.

  They did not come.

  The animal made that strange rumble-groan again. My eyes snapped open to see that it had stopped dead, within arm’s reach, shaking its head fretfully from side to side as if its ears hurt.

  Can it truly be … working?

  I moved into another song, this one about maidens milking white cows under the full Moon. The beast reared back and roared once more, the force of the noise shaking the cage and ruffling the hair around my face. Steam rolled out in great waves. The huge paws raked at the earth, gouging long black furrows in the snow. But it came no closer.

  I sang on.

  Songs about sakura, and fishing, about sweet plums in summer, about catching birds of gold and silver to win a princess’s heart, about snow falling in the winter, and the right way to cook rice. Nursery rhymes and ballads. Every song that Itsuki and I had ever sung to one another, and every song that Grandmother had ever sung to me. My voice lost its nervous croak and turned smooth and sweet, and then gradually became hoarse with dryness.

  The creature snarled, and roared. It paced away and back again. It flung itself at the walls of the cage. It laid on its stomach and clawed at its face with its own paws. But it did not attack.

  Finally, as my voice was truly beginning to die, fading to a thin rasp, and I was starting to tremble again with the thought of what would happen if it gave out completely, the beast began to belly towards me through the raked up mess of snow and frozen dirt that it had made.

  Inch by inch, the monster crept forwards, nose twitching, mouth gaping slightly to reveal the ivory glint of fangs as it drew in gusts of air, scenting me. I held myself utterly still, fearing even to flinch. My memory failed me and I ended up back at the beginning, singing “Copper Leaves”.

  With a low, deep sigh, and a little rush that nearly paralysed me with fright, the beast laid his great head down in my lap.

  I finished the song. The cage was silent, save for the thunderous beating of my own heart in my ears. The beast sighed again, letting out a small ribbon of steam. The heat of the creature was overwhelming – through kimono and leggings it was still almost cooking the flesh of my legs. I raised one hand and touched the silky mane. The fur was softer than a cloud beneath my fingers.

  The great cat whuffled, and I found myself looking down into those venomous eyes.

  It was not Itsuki looking back at me. Not my Itsuki. But it was something that … knew me. Something more than just a monster. The beast’s long tail curled lazily, and its eyes closed as it nestled safe in my arms.

  “Itsuki,” I whispered, my head curling down towards the creature’s. My hands moved without thought to gently stroke the small, round ears and the heavy cheekbones of the face. The face of the monster that held Itsuki’s soul. “I love you.”

  Somewhere outside the cage, I heard the Yuki-Onna let out a low, wavering moan.

  And then … lights. Lights everywhere, suddenly, white and soft. They blossomed around me, silently flickering to life in midair and spreading in delicate swirling patterns like white apple blossom stirred by a gentle wind. They danced around my body and around Itsuki’s beast form, filling the bone cage. I peered out, through the bars, and saw the same lights coming to life in the heart of the Moon maze, gathering around the throne in the frozen waterfall and blocking the Yuki-Onna from sight. Blocking everything from sight.

  I looked down at the beast and it – he – was looking back at me. The last thing I saw was the deep green of Itsuki’s eyes.

  Twenty-three

  In that first moment of blindness I felt the beast push closer to me, as if in fear. I clutched at him, held his face tightly, but it didn’t matter. The silky warmth of his fur, the heat of him, and the solid weight of his skull leaning against my stomach and legs just … dissolved. The light dissolved everything, replacing reality with soft, starlike whiteness, until it was all I could see, all I could feel – thrumming against my skin – all I could hear – whispering in my ears – all I could smell – the scent of flowers, and frost, and the tingling taste of lightning in the air. I imagined that I was dissolving too, that the light was replacing me fibre by fibre, skin and blood and bone, washing out scars and shadows, painlessly fading me into its whiteness.

  Am I dying?

  Then I heard a sweet, lovely voice – far lovelier than mine had ever been – softly sing:

  “Autumn leaves, dance, dance…”

  Gradually the light began to take on colours, like watercolour paints washing across a blank sheet of paper and darkening, deepening, as they dried. In the distance, a smudged line of dusky blue-grey solidified into the craggy, familiar lines of the distant mountain peaks above the village. Below, the dark dense shadows of the forest. Above, streaks of pink and yellow and peachy-orange: ragged clouds flushed with dawn.

  And all around me, rustling and stirring in a warm wind, scented with distant lightning and ice, there were flowers. Blowsy, cup-shaped white flowers on long, waving stems, with deep golden centres, unfurling to the sun.

  The last thing to take shape was a girl. She was slender, a little shorter than me, dressed in a very fine pink kimono with long, full sleeves. Her hair, neatly coiled and knotted on the top of her head, gleamed lustrous black against a spray of the same white flowers that grew all around me.

  She turned to face me as the last words of the lullaby left her lips, and smiled.

  The girl had a beautiful face, ageless and unlined in the pink light of the rising run, with pretty, soft skin and delicate features. But her smile was something more – something better – than beautiful. It was wide and crooked, wry and friendly, like the smile of a big sister, and it lit up her eyes with happiness and affection. I had never seen that smile before, but somehow I recognized it – and her.

  “Oyuki,” I whispered.

  “Hana,” she said, coming towards me through the flowers. Her arms lifted, and so did mine, just as naturally as breathing, and we embraced like the dearest of friends.

  “They called me for the snow, my family,” she said softly. “That was how they wanted me to be. Cold, elegant, pure. But I always loved warmth, and flowers, and the sun. I was never meant to be a snow maiden. Only Ren ever understood that about me. Ren – and then you.”

  “Ren? Your…” My voice trailed off. Ren who had been murdered right before poor Oyuki’s eyes.

  “Yes.” She sighed. “I miss him so much. Even now.”

  And yet her words held no echo of the fury or madness of earlier. Only sorrow, and love.

  How did this girl become the Yuki-Onna? And how did the Yuki-Onna become the girl I am looking at now?

  As if she had heard my thought, Oyuki drew back, and looked up into my face.

  “You know – I know you do – that anger, hatred and guilt … if we let them, they can become so powerful they have the ability to consume us. We are left only an empty shadow of our own pasts, reliving the same hurt over and over again. Well, that is what happened to me. At the moment of my death my soul had become a scream of torment, of pure rage, and that purity gave me power, or unleashed a power within me I had never known of before. I turned my back on heaven. Transformed myself into the Yuki-Onna, spirit of ice and vengeance, and made your Itsuki relive everything I had been through at his hands – and when that was not enough, I cursed him.

  “The curse made all the swirling thoughts and pain within me real, gave my anger and hatred form. That form was the beast, and the maze, the Dark Wood, and the enchantment on this mountain. And then there was no turning back. By the time I realized I had created a prison not only for him, but for everyone on the mountain, including myself … it was too late. The curse had a life of its own, as all magical things do, and it wanted only
to endure.

  “For one hundred years I was trapped in the maze with Itsuki while the curse fed on our despair and on the poor unfortunate people of your village, and grew stronger. Long after my hatred had shrivelled into weariness and longing to join Ren in heaven, the curse kept on. I made it, but I did not have the power to break it. We, all of us, who had been caught in the coils of the curse, had one hope. The only thing that would break the curse was if its original terms – the words that I had spat at Itsuki in my first explosion of power and rage – were fulfilled.”

  “‘You wear the shape of a man, but to me you have been a beast. Very well then – a beast you shall truly be. Suffer as I have suffered, beast, until you have learned to love, as truly I once loved. And when you have learned that, suffer still more, until you have proved yourself worthy of being loved in return, as once my beloved loved me,’” I quoted softly. This had been burned into my brain since Itsuki repeated it to me, but I had never worked out its true significance – that this was the curse itself, laid out plainly.

  “Oh, those impulsive, terrible words!” Oyuki said. “I wanted him to suffer so badly, you see… I made it nearly impossible to break the curse. It was impossible. Until you came stalking into the forest, raging and determined to kill him, and taught him to love you instead. He proved that when he persuaded you to leave him behind. And you proved he had become worthy of love when you returned, and were willing to embrace even the beast that almost killed you, to save him. You did what you set out to do, Hana. You slew the monster. You saved him. You saved us all.”

  The tears that had been welling up in her eyes finally slid down her cheeks. Even after everything that had happened, I felt my face heat at the extravagant praise. I looked around a little desperately, and then frowned.

  “But if – if the curse is truly broken then where is Itsuki? Where is this place? And what about you?”

  “Do not fear. Itsuki is just where you left him, and he is well. I promise. This is … a tiny pocket of spare time and space that I snatched, so that I could meet you before it is really all over, and I … move on. I had to see you, Hana. I don’t know if either of us will remember this once it’s finished, but I had to thank you. For doing the impossible. For teaching a beast to love, and for loving him in return. I will do what I can to make sure you are rewarded. I have a little of my magic left… Not much, not enough to undo every ill that the curse is responsible for … but just enough, I think, to right one last wrong. For you, Hana. My friend. My sister.”