by Zoe Marriott
I shrugged jerkily. “It’s not like – I mean, it’s not going to make any difference in the long run, is it? I just have to have enough left in me by the end to stick the sword in. And the blade will help me.”
Shinobu stared into my face. “I will fight with you. Draw some of his ire. Take some of the punishment, until it’s time.”
“No,” I said firmly, and kept talking over him when he tried to interrupt. “No, Shinobu. You have to leave it to me to keep him occupied. If he gets too close to you, he might sense the wakizashi and try to take it from us, or even attempt to put you back in the sword again, like the first time we went up against him. That’s always been his ultimate goal. We can’t give him that chance.”
Shinobu looked away from me, jaw clenching. At his sides, his hands slowly curled into fists, straightened and then curled again. “This is hard.”
“I know,” I whispered. “For me, too.”
We both reached out. Our hands entwined, and clung. We stood in silence for a moment, mourning each other in advance.
The green blade flashes down in the red light—
Don’t let go!
I forced the flashback away. It’s too late for that now, I told the part of me that was the first Mio. It’s not about holding on any more. It’s about letting go together. You should understand that. It’s all you ever wanted, really.
“Yamato Mio-dono?” Araki reappeared over the top of the amphitheatre, and I reluctantly let go of Shinobu’s hands. She bowed politely. “The king must know where she is to open the portal into your realm.”
I blinked, taken aback. That was a good question, and I had no idea of the answer. It was all very well for Silver Fangs to say that the sword would lead me to the battle, but right now it was happily humming away and giving me no clues at all. “Um…”
“What does your intuition tell you, sword-bearer?” Shinobu asked with deliberate formality, seeing the clueless panic in my eyes.
My intuition wasn’t talking. But common sense told me that I had no way of knowing the right place, and there was nothing I could do about it. So I might as well just pick a familiar location – somewhere that the Kitsune had a portal already.
“My house,” I said firmly. “The blade will lead me from there.”
Araki nodded. “That will make things easier. We are forming ranks now – will you come?” She moved away, and I put out a hand to stop her, not quite daring to touch.
“Araki-san, wait a moment. I just wanted to say that I – I’m very sorry for what the Foul Women did to that young Kitsune girl. I didn’t even know who she was, but … it must have been awful for you.”
Araki froze, then bowed her head. “Her name was Masaru. She was my niece.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, wondering if I should have brought it up.
“You will make the gods pay for it tonight, sword-bearer,” she said. When she lifted her head, her eyes were flat and hard, like flint. “We will make them pay.”
She bowed to me again, and walked away without another word. I hurried to follow, moving swiftly down the turf steps cut into the wall of the green bowl with Shinobu at my side. At the bottom of the amphitheatre, ranks and ranks of well-armed Kitsune were lined up, waiting for us.
The first group was the soldier fox spirits – the ones who had marched with us to Battersea. As I approached them, they stood to attention and saluted me. I could never pull off a salute that sharp. I nodded to them and lifted my hand in a gesture that was half wave, half blessing. Then we were past, walking between rows of volunteer Kitsune fighters. They didn’t salute, but their eyes followed me. I nodded to them, too, trying to broadcast confidence and certainty. I didn’t want them to feel scared. Even if they probably should be.
Ahead of me, at the centre of the amphitheatre, the king stood on her throne in her human form. Her hair was a crown of elaborate braids and she was dressed in shining white and gold. Tight white-leather trousers were tucked into soft golden boots, and a vest of chain mail washed in gold left her arms, clad in billowy white silk sleeves, free. Jewelled golden vambraces glinted on her wrists. A shotgun hung on one shoulder, and a bandolier of bullets was slung diagonally across her chest. Two huge unsheathed swords – not Japanese style, but exaggeratedly curved, like something you’d expect to see Sinbad the Sailor waving around – were secured to her wide golden belt. Blood-red stones winked in her ears. She looked like a modern-day, nine-tailed Elizabeth the First.
“I think I see where Hikaru gets her sense of style,” I whispered to Shinobu.
“And certainly the love of tight leather trousers,” he murmured back, smiling faintly.
A dark smoky-grey Kitsune − Tetsuo, the king’s chief advisor − also stood on the throne hill. The king was talking seriously to him, probably giving him instructions on how to run things while she was gone. Even though Tetsuo was an immensely powerful eight-tailed Kitsune, he wouldn’t be fighting with us tonight. He was blind – but more than that, he somehow gave the impression of being fragile and ancient. The king was at least a hundred years his senior, but she seemed light-years younger. I wondered what his story was. I supposed I’d never get to find out now.
Araki quickly climbed the hill, and I went to my parents, Jack, Hikaru and Rachel, who were waiting in a little bunch just in front of the throne.
“That was quick. Did you have a good discussion?” Mum asked.
“We did,” I said, bracing myself. “And now we’re going to have another one. Here are the rules. You stay behind me, and you stay in the middle of the army. You let the Kitsune protect you, because they have lightning bolts coming out of their tails, and you don’t. And none of you get carried away and run off alone trying to be a hero, no matter what.”
“Well. That’s told us, hasn’t it?” my dad grumbled.
Jack folded her arms, looking unimpressed.
“That’s the way it has to be. I can’t do my job if I’m constantly looking back, checking on you guys, worrying about you. At the end of the day, no matter how brave and good at fighting you are, you’re only human, and the things that we’re facing out there tonight aren’t. I know that you’ll have Hikaru and Rachel watching out for you, but they can get hurt just as easily as anyone else, so don’t make it hard for them. Got it?” I watched them for nods and shrugs. Then, as the silence became awkward, I sighed. “Do I get any kind of a hug in this situation?”
Smiles broke through. Worried, tense smiles, but still. We all scrambled to embrace each other, and Shinobu got caught up in it, too, getting a quick kiss on the cheek from my mum.
“You keep my daughter safe, now,” she said softly. “After all, it’s her birthday tomorrow. You don’t want to miss the party.”
“Mio does not need to be protected,” Shinobu told her seriously, his eyes boring into hers. “But I will stay with her, Mrs Yamato. To the end.”
Mum’s expression clouded as she tried to decipher his words, but I didn’t let it worry me. I smiled at him. I was proud that he’d finally got it through his head that it wasn’t his job to guard me, but to fight with me. It had only taken him two lifetimes to accept it.
I noticed that Rachel was drawing Hikaru away from the rest of us, a little way around the side of the throne hill. I hesitated for a second, then took a couple of nonchalant steps back, tuned out the noise of the others talking and shamelessly eavesdropped.
“Er … so I guess we’re the supernatural bodyguards, then. Good luck out there,” Rachel said.
“Yeah, you too.” From the corner of my eye, I watched Hikaru hold out her hand and Rachel shake it.
Rachel opened her mouth, closed it, then took a deep breath, and said, “Sorry if I’ve been a bit … you know.”
Hikaru twiddled a strand of hair. “That’s OK. Was it the species thing?”
“No!” Rachel said hastily. “I’m not a bigot. Or a hypocrite, since God knows what I am these days. It’s just … you were a guy. And I could see that Jack liked you, and you
liked her and … I don’t know, I worried that maybe you’d try to push her back into the closet.”
“Me?” Hikaru was clearly incredulous. “I couldn’t push Jack anywhere she didn’t want to go. Not even if I had a tank. I doubt anyone could.”
“Well, you say that, but … look, Jack always knew who she was, and I was proud of her for that. But our dad made her life tough. He wouldn’t take her seriously. He made fun of her, told her it was a ‘phase’ and that she’d ‘grow out of it’. When he finally left, Jack took it hard. I’ve always been scared that she blamed herself, but she wouldn’t talk about it. Then you turned up and I thought, ‘Uh-oh.’”
Hikaru took all this in with a thoughtful expression. “You realize that I’m still male, though, right? I mean, that being a male is as much a part of me as being a female? I’m not all one thing or the other, and I don’t want to be.”
Rachel shook her head. “You don’t need to explain. The point is that I realized things weren’t so black and white – and that it was never really any of my business anyway, so … basically, I hope that we can get on. Not just for Jack’s sake. You’re a cool girl. Guy. Person.”
Hikaru shrugged and grinned her reckless grin. “Consider us pals from now on, cupcake.”
I smiled to myself.
On the hill, the king finished conferring with Araki and Tetsuo and raised her arms. Silence fell over the court as the Kitsune turned their faces up to her.
“My people, the time is approaching. Tonight we will march into open war for the first time in almost a thousand years. There will be blood, and sacrifice, and loss – and in our hearts each of us must prepare ourselves for that.”
“Great pep talk,” Jack muttered. I elbowed her.
The king went on. “But there will also be bravery, glory and honour. Tonight we will defy the gods. For centuries to come, all Kitsune, all the people of spirit, will talk and sing and whisper of what we do now. When you step into the human realm, you will step forward as heroes. And no matter what happens, I promise that each and every one of you will be remembered as a hero forever.”
The king’s tails sent out a great crackling arc of blue lightning. The assembled fox spirits stamped in unison. The king walked slowly down the front of the throne, navigating the smooth, sheer slope as gracefully as if there were steps. She stopped directly before me, and placed her hands on my shoulders. I obeyed the pressure of her delicate fingers and bowed down so that my face was level with hers.
She pressed a firm kiss to the centre of my forehead.
“You will be remembered,” she whispered, so quietly that I only felt her words as a breath against my skin. “Daughter of the Kitsune.”
I blinked, speechless. She let me go, and I straightened up.
The king took up her position next to me and gestured to Hikaru, who came to stand on my other side. Shinobu, my parents, Jack and Rachel quickly fell in behind. Araki took the head of the column to my left, and Hiro the one to my right. Another column of Kitsune was forming behind me. This was it.
“What time is it in the mortal realm?” I whispered.
“Eleven thirty,” Hikaru whispered back.
Half an hour to midnight. Thirty minutes. That was all we had. I took a deep, deep breath, pulled my gauntlets out of my belt and dragged them on over the sleeves of my T-shirt, flexing my fingers to stop them shaking.
The king nodded. Araki flung her head back and let out a low, ululating cry. The massed fox spirits stamped again, shaking the amphitheatre and sending a handful of silver leaves spiralling down. Overhead, the fox lights began to flicker out one by one as the army and the king let them go, drawing all their lightning back to themselves. The court slowly faded into twilight.
On the hill ahead of us, three massive rings of light – each one the electric blue of the king’s lightning and big enough for a Land Rover to drive through − sprang to life, flickering and snapping as they grew. The wreaths blazed, and within them the grass faded away. Darkness beckoned.
“Geronimo,” I whispered.
“Geronimo,” Jack, Hikaru and Shinobu echoed softly.
Thirty minutes before the storm breaks.
CHAPTER 24
SHADOWS AND BLOOD
T here wasn’t room in our back garden for the Kitsune army. Much as I would have liked to huddle there and stare at my home one last time, the tiny space filled up so quickly with fox spirits spilling out of the mulberry bush that there was no choice except to hurry forward, past the garage and out onto the street.
Cold silver moonlight illuminated the scene; the streetlights were unlit. One or two houses up and down the road showed a faint glow leaking out around the barricades on their windows, but it looked more like candlelight to me than steady electric light. The road was deserted. The quiet tramp of the fox spirits’ feet as they flooded onto the tarmac and pavements completely failed to disguise the eerie absence of other sounds. No noises of cars, no tinny TV laughter, no drunken voices from the pub two streets down. A faint, faraway roaring in the distance might have been traffic, but then again – might not. I couldn’t be sure.
A dog trotted into view ahead of us. My mum sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s—”
One of the king’s tails flicked. A lightning bolt sliced across my vision, leaving a blue after-image, like a scar, on the darkness. The dog yelped and fled, its fur smoking.
“Jinmenken,” Her Majesty said calmly. “It is best to send them running before they bring their whole pack.”
I opened my mouth to compliment her on her aim – and then something hit me.
It was like a meteor colliding with my back. The searing impact almost knocked me off my feet. I stumbled forward, holding a scream behind a cage of gritted teeth as I reached back to claw at the burning between my shoulder blades.
My hands found the hilt of the sword, and where they touched it, lit up with pain.
“Are you all right?” several voices asked at once.
“It’s glowing!” Hikaru said.
I could almost hear the sizzle of my flesh and smell the stench of burning skin. I knew that if I opened my mouth, all that would come out would be shrieks of Get it off me get it off get it OFF. I clamped my lips together, grabbed the sword around the mouth of the saya and tore it out of the harness, still sheathed.
The moment that I brought the sword over my head to my front, the burning stopped. The relief was so huge that I hardly noticed anything else – the others’ worried, shocked faces, the fact that my gloved hands weren’t blackened and blistered at all.
But I noticed that the sword was shining. There were no flames spurting from the saya this time. Just light. Pure, prismatic light, shot through with rippling rainbows, blazed around and through the black silk of the hilt wrappings, out of each golden sakura blossom on the sheath and from the pierced golden guard.
I couldn’t hear the sheathed blade’s voice in my head, but I barely needed to. It was communicating its desire to me loud and clear.
This way!
It was all I could do not to take off running. Instead, I let go of the hilt with one hand and pointed. My finger was as straight and steady as an arrow.
“That way?” Shinobu asked.
I looked at him gratefully and nodded. He took a step closer, his expression changing. “Mio-dono … your eyes…”
My parents muscled forward and stared too. “My God. Does it hurt?” my dad asked.
I didn’t care what crazy crap the sword was doing to my eyes. I could see with them, and that was all that mattered. I just needed to move − now − before my skin split open with the scorching power of the sword’s need. I stabbed my finger into the air once more, then grasped the sword with both hands and started walking.
“Follow the sword-bearer!” the king commanded. Other voices immediately took up the cry. “Follow! Follow!”
The army spread out behind me as I stalked down the road. The sword pulled at me, tugging me forward like a giant ACME magnet
from a cartoon.
This way! This way! This way!
I could feel its excitement glowing out of my pores. It was already happening. What the sword had always wanted. Even the saya could barely contain it now, and I was becoming saturated with its energy. Becoming a part of it.
Soon I wouldn’t be Mio any more. I would only be the sword-bearer.
But not yet. Not yet. The time was still counting down. Until then I had to remain in control of myself and the blade. I’d had a lot of practice at this – compartmentalizing – over the past few days, and it paid off. Slowly but surely, I managed to clear a space in my head where I could function, and then I forced myself to think.
I was trotting. Almost running. That was stupid. I’d tire myself out before I even got anywhere. I dropped down into a walk. Then I looked around. The others were still with me. The king, Hikaru, Jack and Rachel were on my left, and Dad, Mum and Shinobu were on my right. The Kitsune were still on my heels. Good. OK.
Ahead of us, a chunk of buildings about three properties wide had been reduced to rubble and shards of glass. Underfoot, the paving stones and road surface were warped and cracked, as if they’d buckled upwards under some immense pressure. A manhole cover had somehow flipped up out of the ground and was now stuck out of a big electric sign on a shopfront; sparks rained down onto the pavement beneath it. A set of flickering traffic lights were twisted into demented spirals, and three trees planted next to the road had been reduced to splintery stubs.
Rachel and my mum had said it was bad, and I’d believed them. My own common sense and my encounters with Izanami had told me what must be happening out here. But still, I hadn’t expected to see this. I hadn’t believed, really believed, that my city, my home, could ever look this bad.
Abandoned cars were littered haphazardly across the main road and the pavement like discarded toys. Behind me, the army quietly split into smaller columns to march between the obstacles as I walked past a massive crater in the tarmac. Ahead of me, a white van and a red Mini had apparently collided on a traffic island between the two lanes. Another crater had been blown in the second floor of the building parallel to the island. Bricks, smashed window frames and cracked hunks of concrete had half buried the vehicles.