Traitor's Hope

by Virginia McClain

  The deep voice, which sounded like wind rustling leaves and moving earth, came from somewhere near her feet. She sat up.

  A bark and lichen encrusted face, hosting eyes of hardened tree sap, met her gaze.

  “How long has it been since you called forth your fire, youngling?”

  Mishi thought about that. She hadn’t used her kisō since the battle of Rōjū City, when she’d used so much at once that she’d almost died—would have died, if Taka hadn’t been there to save her. At first she’d been under strict healer’s orders (Taka’s and Tatsu’s both) not to use her kisō lest she do herself irreparable harm, but when that ban had been lifted she still hadn’t resumed using her kisō. The reason was simple—she didn’t trust herself not to hurt any of her friends with the powerful fire that coursed through her and called to her from within and without. The pain of losing Sachi-san and Kuma-sensei was a raw wound that she couldn’t touch and the thought of losing anyone else was more than she could bear. The thought of losing someone to her own violence was beyond paralyzing. No, there was no safe way to use her kisō, and the longer she held that decision the more justified she felt about it. Her dreams and terrors had only taken a more and more solid hold of her mind as more time passed. She could not be trusted, could never be trusted, to wield her kisō safely again.

  “A few moons,” she whispered, as all those thoughts cascaded through her mind.

  Yanagi-sensei’s face looked dire.

  “It is a very dangerous game that you play, youngling. You could hurt someone you do not mean to hurt.”

  “I know!” she cried before he could say any more. “I know, I can’t be trusted! That’s why I haven’t used it at all. Not since the battle of Rōjū City.”

  “What I mean, youngling, is that you cannot allow your kisō to build up in this fashion. It is very dangerous. You have to release a small amount of it daily, or else you risk an explosion like the one that just happened.”

  Now Mishi’s face blanched and her attention was once more drawn to the trees that surrounded them. She saw no sign of fire anywhere.

  “It was real then?” she asked, her voice tiny.

  Yanagi nodded.

  “Indeed, youngling. Luckily, since I was here, and knew what was coming, I was able to prevent it from damaging even the smallest leaf. All the creatures that call this forest home are safe, worry not on that account.”

  Mishi felt the tension in her shoulders and back release slightly at the reassurance. She was glad to know she hadn’t hurt anything living.

  “But you could easily have done so, and indeed, if you don’t use your kisō every day, you will do so.”

  Mishi shook her head. She was just as afraid of using her kisō as she was of picking up her sword. Perhaps more so. There were people who could stop her, even with a sword in her hands, or at least slow her down, but her kisō? It wasn’t that she thought she was more powerful than anyone else, it was simply that fire could do so much damage, so quickly, that there was little anyone could do to defend against it. Even Taka, whose water kisō was easily equal to or better than Mishi's fire kisō, would be hard pressed to find a way to stop the damage that she could cause with a single burst of flame.

  “Mishi-san, I understand that you think your kisō is likely to hurt someone, but believe me, if you refuse to use your kisō at least once a day, you will wind up with another explosion like this one, just waiting to be unleashed. And it could happen anytime, especially if you lose yourself in visions again….Which, by the way, are caused by the blocked kisō, did you know?”

  “What?” Mishi was losing track of the conversation quickly.

  “The visions, they’re a sign of the sickness that comes from a buildup of kisō. Or, I should say, the intensity of your nightmares and visions is a sign of the buildup of kisō. The nightmares and visions are a thing your mind has created because of all the horrors you have faced. They may never go away entirely, but they shouldn’t be as overwhelming if you use your kisō daily. It is remarkably unhealthy to go so long without accessing your kisō. Think of it like a spring-fed well that is sealed shut. Eventually the reservoir of water reaches the seal, and then pressure slowly begins to build. Leave it long enough, and a geyser pours forth when it is finally broken. In the meantime, the pressure may harm the interior of the well; the water, seeking an exit, will try to break its barriers in order to relieve the pressure. In the case of kisō, however, the barrier is your mind, and your kisō will seek the parts that are most easily ruptured. Your nightmares are like small cracks in your mental barriers, and your kisō, seeking an exit you refused to give it, sought to fill those cracks until they burst.”

  “You make it sound as though my kisō has a mind of its own.”

  Yanagi shook his giant head and hundreds of willow branches shook with it.

  “No, youngling, only that it behaves as water does. It has a nature, just as anything else, and it must do as its nature bids it.”

  “If I try to release it, won’t it just explode again?”

  “Not if you release it frequently. At least daily. Surely Tatsu-san explained all of this to you? Did he not instruct you to use your kisō every day?”

  Mishi nodded. Of course, Tatsu-sama had told her to practice her kisō every day, but that had been before…before she’d discovered all the terrible things she was capable of. And after her injury, after she’d been carefully instructed not to access her kisō for a tenday or more in order to heal, she assumed that she could simply refuse to access it, despite what she’d first learned, and thus protect her friends. She hadn’t known it would make her sick, she had simply thought…

  “Tatsu-sama always said that practicing with my kisō daily would help me to channel it and also help me grow my power. That every time I used it, I made the reservoir a tiny bit deeper, and so I thought…”

  Yanagi’s branches bobbed up and down in what Mishi could only assume was a nod.

  “You thought that if you stifled your kisō the reservoir might shrink? That it would eventually dwindle, and stop flowing? That you would deplete your own power and thus free yourself of your responsibility?”

  That took Mishi aback. She had secretly thought she might rid herself of her kisō entirely, but she had done it in order to take responsibility for how dangerous she was. Hadn’t she?

  “Certainly, youngling, your life would be easier if you did not have so much power. And to have so much so young…I do not envy you that, truly. But I’m afraid there is no way to cut yourself off from it, short of your own death, and I imagine, as one who wishes to protect her friends above all else, that you do not wish to put them through the pain that your death would cause them.”

  Mishi felt the blood drain from her face as Yanagi-sensei addressed the thoughts that had run quietly in the back of her mind for the past few moons. She hadn’t seriously considered taking her own life, but after the day when she had hurt Mitsu and Taka, her thoughts had started to wander that way. Yanagi-sensei’s reminder put a stop to that.

  “So, we are back to the best way to protect your friends, ne?”

  She nodded.

  “You must release your kisō daily. If you practice with it, as you always did before your injuries, then you should find it reliable once more. If you do not treat it with the same respect you always have, if you cease to nurture it as you should, then, and only then, it may betray you.”

  Mishi swallowed, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her kisō called to her, even when she didn’t use it, but she hated the thought of calling it forward again, and the damage that she might cause. A deep longing rose in her, though, as she realized that a core part of her had been desperate to reach for the fire within her for moons now.

  Slowly, she nodded.

  Then she took a deep breath, centered herself, and called forth the fire within.

  ~~~

  Mishi watched the firelight dance before her—now the sole focus of the night-blackened forest that surrounded
her—and she took a deep lungful of smoke-tinged air as she let the fire leap back and forth from her fingertips to the circle of stones that—mostly—contained it.

  Mitsu hadn’t been at the campfire when she had returned from her encounter with Yanagi, and she hadn’t gone looking for him. After all, she still thought he was safer the farther away from her he stayed. The hares had cooked, and she had set them aside to cool before starting to practice her new promise to Yanagi. She wouldn’t risk her friends by not accessing her kisō. She would be diligent about practicing with it once more.

  So she played with the fire in her hands, simply rolling it back and forth between them, eventually closing her eyes and imagining the shape of the fire in her mind's eye. She had used this exercise to shape fire as a child, and she decided it was a good one to take up again. It would help her use enough kisō to keep her promise to Yanagi, yet it was something simple and playful that she didn’t think was likely to harm anyone.

  She pictured the fire as a sly fox, and felt the shape of the heat between her hands conform to the image in her mind—sleek body, large ears, and puffy tail. Then she pictured the fox scampering from her hands back into the fire, and she felt the “fox” act accordingly.

  She smiled at the feel of the fire working with her to mold itself to her imagination. Next she imagined a tiny Kisōshi, complete with a katana. Then she imagined the figure going through the steps of a slow kata. She was happy that the forms still came to her easily, even though she hadn’t practiced them in moons.

  She winced then, reminded of why she hadn’t lifted a sword in that time.

  Without bidding, images of the battle of Rōjū City flashed before her eyes. Hundreds of Kisōshi locked in battle surrounded her, and her own opponents were going down one by one, taken by her sword, or by the fire that issued forth at her command.

  The smell of smoke filled her nostrils, and she could hear the screams of the fallen. She moved to block and strike, block and strike, her blade becoming a shroud of steel.

  Her breath came faster and faster, as her enemies kept coming.

  “Mishi-san?”

  Was that Taka crying out for her? More opponents rushed her, and she fought them back.

  “Mishi-san?”

  No, a man’s voice. Kuma-sensei? Kuma-sensei was injured. Did he need her?

  “Mishi-san, can you hear me?”

  Not Kuma-sensei. Someone younger. Katagi-san?

  “Mishi-san, it’s Mitsu. Can you hear me?”

  Mitsu. Yes, Mitsu might be nearby. Hadn’t he been the one who brought the scroll to Tsuku-san? Where had he gone once the fighting started?

  “Mishi-san, can you hear me?”

  She could hear him, but she couldn’t see him. Why couldn’t she see him? The flames around her were growing higher, the smoke thicker—she could barely see her opponents now.

  “Mishi-san, can you see me?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t have the breath to say no, there were too many of the Rōjū’s Kisōshi to fight off. She blinked the sweat out of her eyes.

  “Mishi-san, we’re in Yanagi-sensei’s forest, just outside of Taka-san’s cave. Can you see me?”

  Mishi blinked again. Yanagi-sensei's forest? Taka’s cave? Not in battle. Not in Rōjū City. She’d been sitting by the fire, working with her kisō.

  She blinked once more.

  The firelight glowed behind Mitsu’s face. Why was it so close? Green eyes stared into her grey ones. She blinked again. Could she still smell smoke? That was just the camp fire, wasn’t it?

  Suddenly Mitsu’s face was as close to hers as possible, his lips pressed against hers. She blinked rapidly, completely bewildered, but once more sure of where she was, physically at least. She was standing in front of the fire outside of Taka’s cave, and for some reason Mitsu was kissing her. She ignored the small flip that her stomach performed and pushed herself away from him, jumping backward onto the log that she had been sitting on earlier.

  “I’m sorry,” Mitsu said, his eyes sparkling slightly in the firelight. “I shouldn’t have done that without your permission, but I thought that slapping you was probably a good way to get killed.”

  Mishi nodded. She wasn’t sure if she was accepting the apology, or agreeing that slapping her might have resulted in Mitsu’s death, perhaps both.

  “Do you wish to talk about it?” Mitsu asked.

  Did he mean the kiss or the vision? Not sure which he meant, or which terrified her more, she shook her head.

  Mitsu nodded, then turned and walked into the cave.

  28th Day, 2nd Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  THE NEXT MORNING, as they sat in the clearing beyond the cave waiting for their morning rice to boil, with birds chirping in the soft spring sunlight, Mitsu pulled a stack of rolled parchments out of his pack.

  “I meant to give these to you days ago, but we were running so hard each day that I kept forgetting each night when we made camp,” he said, as he handed them to her. “Now that Yanagi-sensei has insisted that we rest for a day, I’ve finally remembered. One is from Tsuku-san. I believe the others are notes from your friends in the south, which arrived the day I left Rōjū City.”

  Mishi sighed. She had remembered that Mitsu had said that he had other messages for her on that first day, but she hadn’t asked for them on purpose. She told herself it was because she was too tired to read after they had run so hard each day on the way here, but in truth, she wasn’t feeling particularly eager even now.

  She was curious to know how Ami was doing with rebuilding Kuma-sensei’s Kisōshi school and filling it with new students, and she supposed she didn’t mind reading whatever Tsuku-san had to say to her either, but she was rather dreading reading the scroll from Katagi—especially after the looks he’d given her ever since she’d told him that she didn’t wish to have him accompany her on this journey.

  “Well?” asked Mitsu, after Mishi had rerolled the third scroll and placed it into her pack.

  She just looked at him. She wasn’t about to volunteer any of the topics Katagi had brought up in his letter. Mitsu didn’t need to know that Katagi felt abandoned by her, or that he was still professing his love for her even though she had insisted on leaving him behind.

  “What did Tsuku-san say about our assignment?” he prodded.

  Mishi thought for a moment before answering, and swallowed before she spoke. The message about their assignment hadn’t been all that heartening.

  “She said we’re to keep in touch with Riyōshi and send word as soon as we have a good idea of where the sanzoku are establishing themselves between raids. She reminded me again that the men who tried to track them previously have all wound up dead. She suggested we use extreme caution, but repeated that it is urgent we stop the sanzoku as quickly as possible. I wonder if she knows that those ideas don’t exactly work well together.”

  “I’m sure she’s just worried about you.”

  Mishi was silent for a long time as she stared into the steam that rose from the boiling rice.

  “Mishi-san, it’s all right to be frightened by this assignment. It’s quite dangerous. There’s a good chance the sanzoku will kill us if they catch us, and we’re basically laying ourselves out as bait for them. Being nervous is perfectly natural.”

  Mishi raised her grey eyes to meet Mitsu’s green ones. She didn’t smile, but the corner of her mouth quirked to one side.

  “I’m not frightened of the sanzoku, or of what might happen to us if they catch us. Though you’re right that it would be perfectly reasonable to feel that way.”

  “Oh?” Mitsu’s eyebrows rose in clear surprise at this statement.

  Mishi shook her head.

  “I’m just worried that I’ll kill you by accident before the sanzoku even get to us.”

  Mitsu’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline, but Mishi didn’t laugh, even at his reaction. It was true. She was worried she would injure him, or worse. She had hoped that the visions would leave her after
working with Yanagi, but if last night was any indication, that wasn’t happening. Yanagi had said that the visions might improve with time, but how long would it take for her to harm Mitsu-san? She particularly didn’t like it that he still carried her swords. It would be too easy for her to take them from him.

  She was distracted from her concerns, though, when a high-pitched keening rent the air. She watched Mitsu look skyward and saw him check the ties on the leather bracer he wore on his forearm. Then, a large red-tailed hawk backwinged into the clearing and landed forcefully on Mitsu’s outstretched arm.

  “Riyōshi! It’s good to see you,” Mitsu said, as the bird eyed him cautiously.

  Mishi wondered if the bird would nip Mitsu’s ear the way it always did Taka’s, but was disappointed to see it keep its beak to itself.

  Mitsu went quiet for a while, and Mishi assumed that he was communicating with the hawk. She wondered idly what it must be like to be able to exchange images and emotions with a mind as different as a hawk's, but her thoughts abruptly shifted when Mitsu turned to her, his face suddenly quite grave.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Riyōshi has spotted what might be a sanzoku scouting party moving toward a town a few days travel from here.”

  Mishi extinguished the fire beneath the rice, and grabbed her already packed travel roll.

  “Lead the way,” she said to the hawk.

  Kusuko watched the dark shape in the trees for a long time and then thrashed a bit in her bed roll, as though she were sleeping fitfully and could wake at any moment. Then she stilled, and listened to the quiet night sounds, the sounds of Taka breathing nearby, and the soft animal and insect noises that filled the night. She waited until the moon slid behind a cloud, taking away the soft glow that had covered the forest, and then she slipped from her bedroll to the ground behind a log that lay in between her and the small fire they had made.

  She continued that pattern, waiting until the moon hid behind the clouds and then moving to another rock, tree, log, etc., until she came up behind the dark shape in the trees. Then she pulled her dagger from her obi, reached carefully around to press it to his throat, and whispered, “Follow me.”