Shadow of the Fox

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Shadow of the Fox Page 35

by Julie Kagawa

The room beyond the door was musty and warm, the air stale. Boxes, sacks and wooden barrels were stacked in rows throughout the chamber, with garden implements stored against the walls and atop the crates. A single lantern hung from a wooden beam, casting a flickering orange light over the floor, but the rest of the storehouse was shrouded in darkness.

  “Where’s the witch hiding?” the ronin muttered into the silence.

  A soft chuckle answered him, creeping out of the shadows. “No need to be rude. I’m right here. This way, little ducklings. Follow the sound of my voice.”

  Cautiously, we did, easing around the stacks of crates and barrels, inching toward the back wall, where a faint crimson glow began emanating from the far corner.

  Lady Satomi waited for us at the end of the last aisle, her features cast in a red glow. It came from a tall, full-length mirror in the corner of the room, the glass reflecting the smiling woman in its depths. A dirty sheet lay crumpled at the base of the mirror, indicating it had been covered a moment ago, and the entire structure seemed to pulse with a subtle malevolence.

  Yumeko took one look at the woman in the corner and leaped back, brushing my arm as she darted behind me, making my senses spike. I glanced at her, confused. She had made herself very small against my back, as if she were afraid of the mirror itself. I supposed she, too, could feel the darkness radiating from it, the sense that it was something unnatural.

  “What trickery is this, witch?” the shrine maiden said, raising her ofuda like a sword.

  “This? It’s called a mirror,” Satomi replied with exaggerated slowness. “Commonly used to make certain you are presentable to the rest of society. Perhaps you should get one for yourself?”

  “That’s not what I meant! Where is Master Jiro? You said you would take us to him.”

  “Did I? I suppose I did. Well, then...” The woman reached up and carefully drew a hairpin, long and pointed with an ivory ball on the end, from her hair. For a moment, she held it before her, the thin metal glimmering in the light, before raising her other hand and jabbing the point into her index finger. Her face remained serene as she drove the needle tip into her skin without flinching.

  A drop of blood welled from the puncture wound, swelling like a tick on the end of her finger. As we watched, Lady Satomi calmly raised the injured hand and pressed the spot of blood to the surface of the mirror. As the glass rippled, like a stone dropped into a puddle, the woman smiled.

  “Your precious master is through here,” she said to the shrine maiden, and lifted her gaze to all of us, the challenge in her voice apparent. “Save him if you can.”

  And with that, she stepped forward, into the mirror, and vanished through the glass.

  The ronin let out an emphatic curse. “Wait, what? The hell just happened? Everyone saw that, right? You all saw her get sucked into the mirror. What was that?”

  “Blood magic,” I said grimly, as Yumeko peeked around my arm. The reflection in the mirror was distorted now, the images hazy and twisted. A single spot of red still marred the glass, floating on the surface. “Lady Satomi is a blood mage,” I confirmed, as our grotesque reflections gazed back at us, swirling in unrecognizable circles. “A powerful one, if I had to guess. The mirror serves as a gateway to another place entirely. That is not the spell of a novice.”

  “A gateway?” Yumeko continued to hover at my back. “Where does it lead?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Again, the shrine maiden stepped forward, her face determined. “If Master Jiro is on the other side, I will find him. No matter what stands in my way.”

  “Hold on, hold on,” the ronin protested. “I’m all for jumping into strange mirrors and all, but what if it dumps us into a pit of demons? Or centipedes?”

  With a sharp yip, Chu rushed forward, leaped toward the mirror and vanished through the glass in a streak of orange and white. As the rest of us stared in shock, he reappeared, bounding back through the mirror to give us an impatient look, before leaping through once more.

  “Okay,” said the ronin with a shrug. “Good enough for me.”

  I shut my eyes and stepped through the gateway, feeling strands of magic slide over my skin, cold and clinging, like walking through a spiderweb in the dead of winter. When I opened my eyes, I gazed around and felt Kamigoroshi stir to life.

  “Oh, Kami.” I heard Reika whisper.

  The six of us—five humans and a dog—stood beneath an ancient torii gate, the once colorful wood half-rotted and crumbling into ash. Spread before us was the devastated, shattered remains of what had once been a village or town. Houses and buildings lay destroyed, smashed to kindling, walls crumbled and roofs fallen in. For many of the structures, nothing was left but a few blackened sticks and charred ruins. Rubble lay everywhere, the air smelled of death and nothing stirred in the shadows. No signs of life, or people, or anything alive. This place, whatever it had been, was a village of yurei now.

  “Where is she?” the shrine maiden muttered, gazing around with narrowed eyes. “Where did the witch slither off to?”

  “And where the hell are we?” the ronin echoed, his breath clouding into the air before writhing away on the sharp, chilly breeze. “Also, and this may be cause for some concern—I don’t see a mirror lying around. How are we going to get back?”

  There was no sign of the blood mage. Or a mirror of any sort. The ruined village lay silent and empty; no glimmer of pale skin or flutter of kimono sleeves could be seen through the devastation. A half-burned banner flapped mournfully from a beam, the only sound in the absolute stillness.

  “That’s the crest of the Yotaka,” the noble said, gazing the rippling, half-burned cloth. “A vassal to the Sora family. Which means...we’re in Sky Clan territory?” He shook his head in amazement. “But that can’t be right. Sora lands are hundreds of miles from the Imperial City.”

  That explained the sudden drop in temperature. Sky Clan territory lay on the northern edge of Iwagoto, and claimed the frigid Kori no Hari peaks as their domain. From the distant snowcapped mountains, looming beyond the village, we were probably on the very edge of the Sora family lands. “Satomi is a blood mage,” I reminded them grimly. “She probably has several of these gateways seeded throughout the palace, in case she needs a quick escape, or a location to work her blood magic in peace.”

  “Oh, that’s just great,” the ronin snapped. “Quick, let’s all follow the blood witch through the mirror of death without knowing what’s on the other side. Oh look, an empty, ruined village in the middle of nowhere, I wonder what could be here? Certainly not demons, or gaki, or—”

  “Yurei,” Yumeko whispered.

  “Or ghosts,” the ronin agreed. “Right, I’m sure there are no angry ghosts around, either.”

  “No,” the girl said, and pointed down the road. “Look.”

  We turned. A glowing ball of blue-white luminance floated silently in the middle of the road where nothing had been before. It bobbed once, then glided soundlessly away, trailing a long tail of light behind it, then reappeared, hovering several feet off the ground.

  “Hitodama,” the shrine maiden whispered. “A human soul lingering on in the world.”

  “A ghost?” the noble mused.

  “Yes and no.” The miko’s voice was full of pity. “Yurei are the spirits of the deceased. This is someone’s soul that, for some reason, is unable to pass on.”

  “It looks like it wants us to follow it,” Yumeko observed, as the light bobbed away, then returned, pulsing softly against the dark.

  The ronin blew out a breath. “Well, there’s nothing around here,” he said. “Let’s see where the glowing dead person wants to take us.”

  Cautiously, we followed the bobbing orb of light, ducking under beams and charred pillars, weaving through the skeletons of watchtowers that had fallen into the road. The village, except for our own footsteps and breathing, remained deathly silent
and still. Ahead, the glowing sphere moved at a steady pace, always close enough to see but keeping a good distance between us. Eventually, the village gave way to the edge of a forest, where the sphere drifted through the trees until it paused at the foot of a rise. A flight of stone steps, cracked and covered in roots, ascended through the trees and disappeared over the hill. It waited long enough for us to reach the first step, before it floated up the staircase and vanished.

  “Hurry,” the shrine maiden said, as she and the dog took the lead. “I can sense Master Jiro is close. We mustn’t lose it.”

  “Come on, Tatsumi-san,” Yumeko urged as I hesitated. “We have to keep up.”

  This was, I mused as we began climbing the stairs, a very strange party I found myself in. I was used to tracking down demons, blood mages and murderous yokai, but it had always been alone. Not in the company of a ronin, a shrine maiden, an aristocrat and a dog. And a peasant girl who haunted my thoughts, whose presence I was constantly aware of.

  For a moment, walking through a dark, unknown forest, I wondered if any of the others found this situation as odd as I did before I purged those thoughts from my mind. It didn’t matter what they thought, or if they died while pursuing a dangerous blood mage. They were not my responsibility. My objective was to find the priest who could give us the location of the Steel Feather temple and the scroll. Nothing else mattered.

  Especially since I had already been ordered to kill one of them when this was over.

  The stairs ended at the gates of an ancient castle, peaked roofs soaring toward the full moon. The double doors of the gates were open, creaking in the breeze, and through the opening I could see the courtyard, as vacant and dark as the village below.

  “Empty,” Yumeko mused as we warily approached the front gates. “I wonder what happened to the castle?”

  “And all the people in the village?” the ronin added.

  I didn’t reply, though I suspected I knew the answer. To summon an oni and a horde of demons from Jigoku required a massive amount of blood and sacrifice, more than the blood mage had in their body.

  An entire village’s worth.

  The hitodama reappeared, floating in the gateway of the castle. “It’s waiting for us,” the shrine maiden said, stepping forward. “Hurry. Master Jiro is there.”

  “A frontal assault is inadvisable,” I said quietly, making the shrine maiden pause. She scowled at me, and I nodded to the gate. “If this is the blood witch’s lair, I doubt she’ll be alone. And she’s expecting us. If you go in now, you could be attacked by demons or worse.”

  “What are you suggesting, demonslayer?”

  “I’ll go. This is what I’m trained for. I’ll find the priest and return before the castle defenses suspect me. The rest of you don’t need to come.” And I won’t need to worry about keeping Yumeko safe.

  “So, we’re supposed to wait here and trust Master Jiro’s life to you?” the shrine maiden demanded. “No offense, Kage-san. I know you are an expert killer, but the bearer of Kamigoroshi does not inspire much faith in anything else. I will not entrust Master Jiro’s safety to one who is here only for the information he possesses. I’m afraid I must insist on coming with you.”

  “Sadly, I think I’ll have to agree,” the ronin added, grinning. “And I never really learned how to ‘stay’ on command. You know what they say—can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

  “The blood witch will try to stop you,” the noble broke in, gazing solemnly at me. “She could summon demons and abominations and all sorts of horrors. And you still owe me a duel, Kage-san. Forgive me, but I cannot allow you to die just yet.”

  I looked at Yumeko, whose lip curled up at the corner. “I’m coming, too,” she said calmly. “We’ve traveled all this way. You don’t have to face her alone.”

  Alone is better, I thought. Alone means I don’t put people in danger.

  A chill went through me. Why was I having these thoughts? The safety of others was not something I’d ever considered before. Perhaps Master Iemon had been right; I was slipping, my concern for others a dangerous indication that I was losing control of my emotions. When this was over, I would submit myself to the majutsushi’s “reevaluation,” and hope that could destroy any lingering attachments. It was unpleasant, and I might not survive, but it was necessary.

  Yumeko was still watching me, dark eyes shining with worry. I didn’t deserve that concern, but I didn’t tell her this. What I said was, “Do what you will,” before heading toward the gate and the castle beyond.

  The blood witch was nowhere to be seen as we passed through the large wooden doors and stepped into the courtyard. Rubble was scattered everywhere; broken stones, overturned barrels, a few smashed carts, all strewn through the yard. I saw several suits of armor among the stones, and the glint of bleached bone that confirmed what had happened to the samurai here. Broken spears jutted from the ground, arrows were embedded in posts and beams, and katanas lay rusting where they had fallen, glimmering faintly in the moonlight.

  “Looks like a battle was fought here,” the noble mused.

  “Or a massacre,” the ronin added, prodding the top half of a suit of armor with his bow. A rib cage dislodged, fell out of it, and he grimaced. “I hope I’m horribly, horribly wrong, but this poor bastard looks like he was ripped in half.”

  Hakaimono’s presence, which had been building with excitement and bloodlust as soon as we stepped through the gate, went perfectly still. A chill raced up my spine, and I froze, gazing around the courtyard.

  Up, something whispered in my head. Look up.

  I looked up. To the peaked roof of the castle, silhouetted against the moon.

  Something dark and massive rose from the castle roof, standing against the moonlight, an enormous shadow with thick shoulders and black horns curling into the air. Even from this distance, I could see its eyes, burning like embers in the night, and the mane of black hair falling down its back. It swung an iron-studded tetsubo to its shoulders, and a slow grin broke across its face as our gazes met. It dropped to a crouch and leaped off the roof into the air.

  “Oni!” I yelled, drawing my sword, as the huge creature landed in the courtyard with a boom that shook the ground and shattered the stones beneath it. Dust and chips of rock flew outward and everyone fell back as the oni straightened, towering a good fifteen feet overhead, to smile down at us.

  “The Kage demonslayer,” the demon rumbled, its burning crimson eyes locked on me. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Movement rippled around us, as dozens of smaller demons appeared on the walls and formed from the shadows. The amanjaku snarled and cackled, waving crude weapons, red eyes seeming to float around us like crimson fireflies. Some of them wore pieces of stolen samurai armor—a helmet or shoulder pad that was far too big—or brandished the wakizashis of the fallen in a blasphemous parody of honor.

  The shrine maiden’s dog gave a sharp yap and bounded forward, leaping over rubble toward the towering demon in the center of the courtyard.

  “Chu!” cried the miko, as the demon casually swung its club at the fleeing animal. The tetsubo smashed to the ground, crushing stone and leaving a large hole behind but somehow missing the dog, which fled across the stones, darted up the steps of the castle and vanished through the open doors.

  “Chu, wait!” The shrine maiden started after him, then paused, as if remembering the giant demon blocking her way. The oni snorted, swinging its weapon to its shoulder again.

  “Pathetic beast. Barely enough for a mouthful. But I am not interested in dogs.” Its burning gaze swung to me again, sending a flare of savage excitement through my veins. “Come, then, demonslayer,” it growled. “It is your blood I want, your entrails I wish to smear over the ground. Fight me alone or with these puny mortals, it matters not. I will crush you all into pulp and scatter your bones for the amanjaku to squabble over.”

&nb
sp; “Go,” I told the rest of them, forcing myself to speak calmly, to not release the gleeful laughter bubbling in my throat. “Follow the dog, find Master Jiro. I’ll take care of the oni.”

  “What? Like hell you will.” The ronin came forward, his bow already strung, his mouth curled in a defiant smirk as he gazed at the demons around us. “I see a lot more monsters than the big ugly bastard in the center there. I can at least keep the minions off your back while you cut off its head.”

  “Indeed,” added the noble, sweeping his sword in front of him. “You are not allowed to die tonight, Kage Tatsumi. Lady Yumeko,” he added, keeping his gaze on the giant creature before us. “Do not worry about Kage-san. I will not permit him to fall. On my honor, I will fight as if his life were my own.”

  The oni chuckled. “Good,” it rumbled, and took a step forward. Stones cracked under its weight, and the air around it shimmered with heat. “Good! Come then, humans. I have been bored for days. At least try to make a fight of this.”

  “Tatsumi,” Yumeko whispered, and for a moment, the intensity in her voice calmed the rage within, piercing the bloodlust and vicious glee. “That’s the oni who destroyed the temple and killed everyone there. Please be careful. But if you can...tear him apart for me.”

  The oni laughed, the savage sound booming into the air, stirring the amanjaku into a shrieking, cackling frenzy. “Yes, demonslayer,” it mocked, as Hakaimono rose up with a howl of its own, turning my vision black and red. “Take me apart, if you can.”

  I bared my teeth in a savage grin. “So eager to die, Yaburama?” I heard myself say, and for the briefest of moments, caught a flicker of shock in the demon’s eyes. “You always were a conniving bastard, even in Jigoku. I’ll be happy to send you back.”

  The oni’s face contorted with rage, and it lunged at me with a roar, swinging its club in a vicious arc. I snarled back with the fury of a hundred demons and leaped out to meet him.

  32

  Fox Magic Unleashed

  I shuddered as Tatsumi gave a snarl unlike anything I’d heard before and sprang to meet the oni, whose giant tetsubo was sweeping down to crush him to the earth. At the last second, he twisted aside, the iron club missing him by centimeters and crashing into the stones. As he darted in, Kamigoroshi flashed purple in the darkness, cutting into the demon’s arm and releasing a spray of blood. It sizzled as it touched the ground, smoke writhing into the air from the puddles, and the oni howled.

 

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