by Julie Kagawa
I straightened, and Hakaimono perked as well; both of us recognized that name. The Master of Demons was a well-known, if terrifying, figure from the country’s darkest era. Four hundred years ago, in the midst of the worst civil war the land had ever known, a sorcerer named Genno raised an army of demons and undead to assault the capital and overthrow the emperor. Because the land was so fractured, his strategy nearly worked. The emperor was killed, and the imperial city was on the verge of collapse, when the clans finally put aside their squabbles and united against the greater threat. Many lives were lost, and the country was nearly torn asunder, but the combined strength of the clans was enough to finally turn the tide. In the final battle, Genno was slain, the hordes of undead crumbled and the demons fled, scattering to the winds. But that was not the end of the story. Not content with simply killing the Master of Demons, the new emperor had him beheaded, his body cremated and his head sealed deep within a sacred tomb, so that he would never again rise to threaten the land.
That was the theory, anyway.
I faced the yokai and frowned, making him shrink back. “The Master of Demons was killed over four hundred years ago,” I said slowly, making certain I understood what the one-eyed creature was implying. “I take it he’s returned, somehow?”
The yokai bobbed his head. “That is what my master believes,” he said. “The wind witch that attacked you earlier was one of his servants. Uh, Genno-sama’s, not my master’s. My master would not bother with one such as she.” His eye scrunched up, as if he were disgusted by the thought, before he shook his head. “But Genno has many demons, yokai and even humans that do his bidding, and now that he is looking for the scroll, he’ll try to eliminate any competition. That means you, demonslayer. And any who are close to you.”
I thought of Yumeko, her bright gaze and cheerful smile, the light going out of her eyes as a demon ripped her apart. Strangely, it bothered me in a way I’d never felt before. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked the yokai. “If the scroll is so powerful, why doesn’t your master want it as well?”
“I don’t question the master’s orders,” the one-eyed creature said, going a bit pale at the very thought. “My only purpose is to serve him in whatever way I can. He told me to warn the Kage demonslayer that the Master of Demons is searching for the Dragon’s prayer, and that he plans to kill you. So, I have. And now my job is done.” He blinked his enormous eye and gave me a nervous look. “Uh... I can go now, yes? You won’t try to kill me once I try to leave?”
The demon in my head gave me a push to do just that, cut the pathetic creature down when its back was turned, a fitting end to such weakness. I stifled the urge and jerked my head toward the tree line. “Go,” I told the yokai, who immediately leaped off the woodpile, without turning his back on me, I noticed. “But tell your master this—don’t get in my way. If he threatens me or those who travel with me, I’ll kill him. That is my only warning. If we meet on the road as enemies, I won’t hesitate to cut him down.”
The yokai’s eye widened until it resembled a tiny moon, and he nodded. “O-of course, Kage-san,” he stammered, bobbing as he backed away. “I’ll be sure to deliver your message.” He stole a glance toward the trees, and I was suddenly certain that this “master” was close, and that he had heard the entire conversation. “Well then,” the yokai finished, preparing to dart into the woods. “H-have a good night, Kage-san. Hopefully we will not meet again.”
He darted away, a streak of pale skin in the moonlight, and vanished into the shadows of the forest. I sensed Hakaimono’s vague disgust that I hadn’t severed his spine and ignored it, scanning the darkness beyond the trees. Something was out there. The mysterious master who’d made certain to warn me that Genno the sorcerer had returned to Ningen-kai hadn’t done so out of any sense of altruism. Whoever he was, he was another player in this game I often found myself in. Lady Hanshou, the emperor, the clan daimyos—they were the generals, the major players, the ones with perfect knowledge, and we were the pieces on the board. I was a single pawn in a shogi match, being moved by unseen forces, going where I was directed without any knowledge as to why. That was how it had always been.
And now, it seemed another general had stepped up to the table. Genno, the Master of Demons, had returned, and would likely be seeking revenge. Lady Hanshou would want to know about this, as would the rest of the daimyos, and even the emperor himself, but my first duty was to my own clan. As soon as I secured the scroll, I would return and tell her what I had learned, or perhaps pass the information along to Jomei or another servant of the Shadow Clan if they popped up to check on me. Until then, I would continue my mission, and worry about demons when they came.
I turned and walked back to the hut, feeling eyes on me the entire way.
When I peered through the doorframe, the ronin was sitting alone in the center of the room, surrounded by debris and empty bottles. Yumeko lay on a blanket in the corner, clutching a straw pillow, an overturned sake cup lying forgotten beside her. The ronin saw where I was looking and sighed, shaking his head.
“Half a bottle and she was nodding off into her cup,” he said, a rueful grin stretching his mouth. “Pity, really. I was hoping she might be a handsy drunk. Guess I’ll be drinking alone tonight, unless you’d like to join me, Kage-san.”
“No.” Taking Kamigoroshi from my belt, I sat in the doorway and leaned against the frame, positioning my body so that it stretched across the entrance. If yokai were still out there and wanted to get into the hut, they would have to get past me, at least.
“Making me pour my own sake. How crass.” The ronin sniffed, poured himself a cup and then took a swig directly from the bottle. “Good thing dogs like me aren’t expected to have manners or any kind of social graces. So, Kage-san...” He picked up the sake cup with his other hand and eyed me over the rim with a shrewd black gaze. “What’s the story with you and Yumeko? You’re part of the Shadow Clan, and you’re not a ronin, so why are you following a peasant girl all the way to the capital? She’s not a servant, I can tell that much. No clan member would let a servant girl boss them around like that.” He tipped the contents of the cup into his mouth and swallowed, then grinned at me. “Or maybe, she’s really a princess dressed as a peasant to avoid detection, and you’re her bodyguard. That would explain a few things. How she can order you around, how you concede to everything she says, even helping a random bandit on the road.” He paused, and when I didn’t answer, the grin grew wider. “You know, if you don’t say anything, Kage-san, I’m only going to assume the worst.”
I leaned my head against the doorframe, letting his babble slide over me like water, vanishing like mist as it passed. “Your assumptions mean nothing to me,” I said, making him snort. “Presume what you like.”
“Oh? Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I have a little fun with the peasant girl.” The ronin put down the bottle and cast a hungry look in the corner, eyes gleaming. “She has a nice body under those rags, and I’d bet my last gold ryu that she’s unspoiled. You weren’t going to do anything with her, right, Kage-san? She is just a peasant, after all—”
He stopped, his gaze falling to my sword, where I had curled my fingers around the hilt. My body had gone very still, ready to explode into movement, and there was a new emotion boiling just below the surface, one I hadn’t felt before. Similar to Hakaimono’s violence and bloodlust, but different. It took me a moment to place it, because the feeling in my chest wasn’t the demon’s emotion; for the first time in years, it was my own.
Anger.
“Ah.” The ronin smirked and picked up the sake bottle. “That’s what I thought. Relax, Kage-san. I’m not in the habit of sleeping with random peasant girls, especially if they have a killer bodyguard nearby who is all too willing to cut off my head.” He poured the last of the contents into the sake cup, and frowned when only a trickle came out. “Kuso. That’s unfortunate, I’m not nearly drunk enough. Wel
l, only one thing to do.” He tossed back the last of the liquor, then picked up the bottle and rose, swaying a bit as he stood up. “Noboru, you bastard, I know you had a secret stash hidden somewhere.” He started to stagger away, but paused and glanced at me, that wolfish grin crossing his face again.
“You know,” he announced, “if you’re heading to the capital, I think I’ll come with you for a bit. The roads around here are dangerous—bandits and all sorts of lowlifes assaulting honest travelers. I’ll travel with you, make it a little less perilous. You can be the bodyguard, I’ll be the guard dog. Safety in numbers and all that, right?” He chuckled, fully realizing the irony, and glanced at the corner where the girl still slept, dead to the world. “You don’t think Yumeko will mind, do you? No matter. I’ll ask her tomorrow when she wakes up. Now...” He turned and staggered toward the back of the hut, toward a separate room. “Where’s that sake, Noboru?” he muttered. “Don’t think you can keep it from me, I can sniff out liquor wherever it’s hiding.”
I listened to the sounds of rummaging and the occasional grunt or profanity. After a few minutes, there was an exclamation of triumph, and then nothing could be heard but the soft clinking of bottles. Eventually, even those stopped, and a guttural snore came from the corner room. I drew Kamigoroshi into my lap and waited for sunrise, planning to wake Yumeko the moment the light touched the horizon. With any luck, by the time the ronin roused from his sake-induced hangover, we would be long gone.
Because if he did follow us, I might have to break my promise to Yumeko and kill him.
17
Hospitality
“Mabushii,” I muttered, shielding my face as blinding beams of light cut through the pine branches and stabbed me between the eyes. So bright. “Why is the sun so bright today? And if someone could please tell the birds to stop singing so loud, I would appreciate it.”
Tatsumi, walking a few paces ahead, did not seem at all affected by the mysterious increase in light or noise this morning. He didn’t say anything, but I could sense he was secretly amused. “I can hear you laughing, Tatsumi,” I warned, scowling at him. “Does my misery entertain you?” He didn’t answer, and I groaned, rubbing my eyes to ease the pounding behind them. “I’ve never been sick a day in my life,” I muttered. “I don’t understand why I’m ill now.”
“You’ve yet to build up a tolerance for alcohol.” Tatsumi cast a glance at me over his shoulder. “Sake can be very strong for the uninitiated. Unfortunately, this is one of the side effects.”
“This is normal?” I thought back to the previous night, what I could remember of it. The strange, strong drink Okame kept pouring into my cup had burned as it went down, then seemed to light a pleasant warmth in my stomach. I remembered feeling drowsy and strangely light-headed, and then I couldn’t recall anything after that. “It’s like a troop of monkeys are screaming and throwing pinecones against the back of my eyes,” I groaned. “Why do people even drink sake if they feel like this in the morning? Do you think Okame-san feels the same? I can’t remember half of what we were talking about...”
A chill ran up my spine. I couldn’t remember anything of what was said last night. What else had I forgotten? Or done? What if I had revealed something I shouldn’t have, like what I truly was? If I’d slipped up, if Tatsumi found out that I was kitsune...
I shivered in the bright sunlight. I had to be more careful. The demonslayer might tolerate a human girl leading him to the Dragon’s prayer, but definitely not a yokai. If he discovered I had tricked him, I could definitely see Kamigoroshi slicing down to take my head.
“Yumeko?”
I glanced up to see Tatsumi still watching me over his shoulder. His face, though not exactly sympathetic, wore a puzzled frown. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Do we need to stop to rest?”
I shook my head, smiling at how genuinely concerned he sounded. “No, Tatsumi-san, I’m fine. I’m just—”
“Oiiiiiiiiii!”
The faint shout came from the road behind us. I turned and saw a dark, blurry shape hurrying forward, one arm upraised. As it got close, it resolved itself into Okame, huffing and puffing as he jogged toward us.
“Finally...found you,” he panted, bracing his hands on his knees. Gasping, he looked up at me with a wry grin. “Thought you could get rid of me, eh? Didn’t Kage-san tell you I was coming with you to the capital?”
I glanced at Tatsumi, who wasn’t looking at either of us, his gaze on the distant mountains. “No,” I said, frowning. “He didn’t mention that.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m a light sleeper.” Okame straightened, adjusting the yumi bow on his back. “And that I’d already decided to help you out. Because I happen to know you’re going the wrong way.”
I blinked. “We are?”
“We’re not,” Tatsumi countered. “This road leads to the imperial highway, and from there, straight to the capital itself. We are on the right path.”
“Yes, if you want to go completely around the mountains,” Okame said, jerking his head at the mist-shrouded peaks, still cloaked in shadow. “Which will take days of travel, at least. I know this territory and, more specifically, I know the trails and hidden paths through the mountains.” His thumb rose, pointed back at himself. “If you follow me, I can get you to the capital much faster than if you keep to the main roads. And we won’t have to bother with the imperial checkpoint at the border.”
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought Tatsumi perked up at that. Well, maybe perked up was the wrong phrase, but he did seem to take notice. “It would be nice to reach the capital sooner,” I mused.
“And just think, Kage-san,” Okame added. “The sooner we get to Kin Heigen Toshi, the sooner you can get rid of me. Win-win situation, right?”
Tatsumi regarded us in stony silence, then shrugged and turned away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said with his back to us. “As long as we reach the capital. And you don’t get us lost.”
“Good!” Okame exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Just follow me, then. We’ll be in Sun lands before you know it.”
* * *
“Huh,” Okame mused later that afternoon. “I was sure there was supposed to be a path here.”
We were deep in the mountains now, having left the main road a few hours ago to hike into the wilderness. Okame had quickly found a game trail, and we’d followed him through a dim forest of pine and cedar, over a thick carpet of green moss that covered stones, roots and fallen logs. He was, I noted, very graceful despite his self-proclaimed boorishness, moving easily through the woods and brush like he was part of the forest itself. Tatsumi trailed silently at my back, making no sound at all and prompting me to glance over my shoulder every so often, just to make sure he was still there.
But when the trail abruptly ended at a small mountain stream, Okame stopped and crossed his arms, gazing down at it like he expected a new path to appear.
“Well, that’s strange,” he muttered, gazing up and down the stream. “I don’t remember this being here.”
“You’re lost,” Tatsumi stated, his voice cold enough to make the creek ice over.
“I am not lost,” Okame protested, glaring back at him. “I’m...momentarily confused that there’s a stream here, but that is a temporary setback. I know exactly where we are.” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning in thought. Across the stream, a small spotted deer stepped daintily from behind a tree and stared at us, twitching large ears. “We must’ve missed the side trail,” Okame mused, “but if we head north, we should find it. So...” He gazed around the forest, and the deer bounded into the undergrowth. “If that’s the position of the sun, and the shadows are going in that direction...”
“Um.” I pointed a finger upstream. “North is that way, Okame-san.”
“Right.” Okame grinned back at me. “Back on track, Yumeko-chan. We’ll be in Kin Heigen Toshi in no time.”
<
br /> Several hours later, with the sun beginning to set behind the distant peaks and the fireflies starting to wink through the branches, Okame stopped and leaned against a moss-covered boulder, shaking his head.
“Okay,” he said cheerfully, and raised both hands in a hopeless gesture. “Now we’re lost.”
Tatsumi’s sword rasped free with a chilling screech. Okame instantly sprang off the boulder and darted behind it as I spun, putting myself between the ronin and the demonslayer.
“Tatsumi, no.” I held up my hands as his cold violet gaze slid past me, flat and murderous. “Killing him won’t help anything.”
“It will rectify the mistake I made earlier,” Tatsumi said, his eyes narrowed to purple slits.
“But it won’t help anything now,” I insisted. His gaze shifted to me, and my heart pounded under that lethal killer’s stare. Kamigoroshi glowed faintly in the shadows, throwing off a sickly luminance that pulsed like a heartbeat. Nothing like the ghastly purple flames I’d seen the night I met Tatsumi, but disquieting all the same. Just being this close to the unsheathed Kamigoroshi made my skin crawl, but I stood my ground. “Tatsumi-san, it’s done. We’re lost. Let’s just try to find the way back and get to the capital without bloodshed.”
“And the fact that he’s pointing an arrow at your back means nothing to you?”
“I’m not aiming at her,” came Okame’s voice behind the rock. “I’m pointing it at the guy with the scary glowing sword. If she would take one step to the right, I’d appreciate it.”
A cold smile curled one side of Tatsumi’s mouth. “You think you’re fast enough to shoot me down, ronin?”
“Well, if the other choice is stand here and smile while you cut me in half, I’ll take my chances,” Okame shot back. I spared a split-second glance at the ronin and saw a dangerous smirk stretching his own mouth, his eyes hard and defiant. “I’m no noble. I’m not offering you my head because I made a mistake. You want it, you’ll have to take it the old-fashioned way.”