by Travis Bughi
It felt like hours they were in that forest, but Emily thought it unlikely they’d spent longer than half of one. It was just as long and blissful as it was short and sweet, and when Takeo broke away to say they had best return, she could only nod because she was so out of breath. Her hair was a mess, covered in leaves and twigs, while her skin and clothes were smeared with dirt. Her rapid breathing had dried her throat, though her tongue and mouth were wet, and her jaw was sore in a way that felt incredible. Takeo’s chest rose and fell while he breathed hard and hot enough to send tiny mists of steam into the not-quite-warm air, and his dark eyes glistened as he peered up into the brightening day. They both had trouble standing up.
“I don’t want to leave,” she confessed as they pulled each other in for another kiss.
His falling hair brushed against her freckled cheeks, and she nudged her nose against his.
“Neither do I,” he admitted, hands holding her at the waist. “I’ve waited too long for this to have it end so quickly.”
Emily pulled at his arm and touched his cheek as they kissed.
“But it must,” she whispered their common thought. “We have a war to fight.”
He only nodded, still breathing fast. They pulled apart until just their hands kept contact, only releasing once they’d crested the hill on their way back toward the ninja camp. It was tough to do. Emily’s breath became strained when Takeo let go, but she understood. Their affection, at least the physical part, was a private thing. She did not want to draw the ninjas’ attention, their prying eyes, and their cautious ears any more than they already had. She had said, ‘I don’t care,’ back in the woods, but now as she came upon the ninja camp, she realized she did care a little.
Emily never did like attention from strangers, and even praise from friends and family could make her feel uneasy. She was glad Takeo seemed to share this sentiment, though it didn’t much matter in the end. They came upon the tent full of all five ninjas whose faces showed they knew exactly what had happened. Lei broke the silence by standing up and starting a slow clap while letting loose an exaggerated whistle.
“You told her, didn’t you! Ha!” He gave Takeo a slap to the shoulder. “Now that’s a samurai! Marching bravely towards certain death against an opponent you can’t hope to defeat. Impressive! How long were you two gone? Half the day? Now that’s stamina! You rogue, you! Okamoto would be proud. Finally slayed that enemy you could never face, am I right? Come now, tell us, did you two speak at all, or did he just show you the old katana, eh Emily?”
Takeo’s cheeks went a deep red, and Emily’s temper flared.
“Shut up, Lei,” she said. “You talk too much. I like you better when you’re sucking Ehuang’s face.”
Ehuang’s chalk snapped on the new picture she was working on, and she gave Emily a stare that could have made a leviathan shiver. The ninja, One, winced while Two released an elongated howl of laughter. The newest ninja—Emily dimly remembered Lei asking for a ninja by the name of ‘Chung’—the one with eyes that tilted down at the ends—huffed as he chuckled through closed lips. Lei’s smile twitched, frozen on his face, and his hands stopped mid-clap.
“Well, alright then.” He took a deep breath. “Touchy subject? My apologies.”
“It’s fine,” Takeo said. “Let’s move on.”
When he said this, Takeo glanced at Ehuang who was giving Emily another stare. The ninja met Takeo’s gaze, clenched her teeth, and then grabbed up the other half of her broken chalk. She went back to scribbling, though her grip on the chalk remained tight.
Well, at least I gave her a reason to hate me now.
There wasn’t much for Emily and Takeo to do. The ninja camp was being disassembled and packed away. All around them, tents both large and small were being broken down with their poles collected and their canvases folded. Pots and bowls were stacked, weapons sorted, clothes tucked away, and ropes rolled up. It was well organized and done silently, just as Emily had come to expect, and she lay back to watch the spectacle beside Takeo.
Over their heads, the light faded as the sun dipped below the trees.
“So, what are we now?” Takeo asked.
“What do you mean?”
Takeo licked his lips and turned to her, “I mean, well, in Juatwa, samurai do not marry for love. They marry who their lords tell them to, often to make alliances. A few break that tradition, like my brother did when he married Mako, but even then there was nothing between them before marriage. I never saw Okamoto kiss her before he married her or admit he cared for her. I have also heard that amazons do not marry.”
“Well, we aren’t married,” Emily replied.
“I know that, but I’m trying to make a point here. I feel for you, Emily. I care for you, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be for you. I’ve always been a warrior, nothing other than a fighter, and now I’m going to be something else entirely. A . . . lover? I think that’s the word, and I don’t feel prepared for this. I was never taught this. It seems so strange to say it, but this is a battle I’ve avoided my entire life. It’s the one I fear the most.”
Emily thought for a second. By hinting at the future, Takeo was crossing a line they had drawn long ago. The situation had changed, however, and she didn’t like the idea of there being a line between them anymore. Apparently, neither did Takeo, and she rolled onto her side to look at him.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Takeo. I don’t really know either. I don’t know how this is supposed to work. Growing up, I lived far away from the nearest people who weren’t immediate family. The only boys I spent time with were my brothers and my father. We spent most of our time just trying to survive and not much time on relationships. There were never any conversations about starting a family, or even leaving the farm for that matter. I think my mother never told me anything because she didn’t really know what to say. She’d run away with my father for love, and perhaps she thought the same thing would happen to me. My father, he was probably too embarrassed to talk to me about it. I know you’re fighting on new ground here, Takeo, but I’m right there with you. All I can tell you is this: we’ll take it one step at a time, and we’ll save the future for if we survive this place.”
A single strand of hair hung across Takeo’s ear, and Emily swept it into place, running her fingers along his temple. Takeo’s eyes softened at her touch, and he took a deep breath. He took her hand, gave it a squeeze, and then placed it between them.
“I’m okay with that,” he said. “I can do that, but I still don’t know what we are.”
“Well, it’s simple.” Emily smiled. “I am yours, and you are mine.”
He smiled back. “I like that.”
The sun left an orange stain on the sky by the time the ninjas were finished, which Emily thought was rather impressive for such a number of individuals. Takeo said his goodbyes to Lei and Ehuang, promising to see them again and wishing them the best of luck. Lei, for once, seemed to have little to talk about, and simply gave Takeo a pat on the shoulder. Ehuang gave the samurai a hug and avoided Emily like a plague. Emily shook Lei’s hand and thanked him for helping them get this far.
One and Two led Emily and Takeo away, heading north, before they could see which way the ninjas were leaving. Emily asked them how the two of them were going to get back to their clan, but Two just smirked and said he knew the way.
That was the last bit of conversation they had for the night for, once darkness fell, silence was their only companion. They traveled through the night, not stopping except for a few moments when One or Two would halt to listen and then continue forward. Fatigue wore on her, but Emily did not voice her desire to rest. She’d suffered far worse in the Forest of Angor, where she’d spent days running from centaurs and werewolves. That had been a trying time, and she’d carried more than just her weapons back then; occasionally, she’d had to support her grandmother as they ran for their lives.
So, in comparison, a little fatigue hardly aggravated her, and though
she did wonder if it was really necessary to travel under the cover of darkness, such questions were kept within the confines of her mind. Maybe it was necessary—she did not know the land they traveled through—or perhaps the ninjas simply preferred to travel while hidden.
They stopped once the sun came up, and Two broke the silence that had followed them for hours.
“Take a nap. Then we’re moving again.”
“How much longer?” Emily asked.
“We’ll reach Lord Jiro in less than half a day,” he replied, grudgingly.
“Why don’t we keep going, then?” Emily pressed. “You’ve had us running all night. What’s a half a day more?”
One, the big brute, gave her a narrow-eyed stare while Two gestured to himself with a stiff hand.
“Listen, girl,” he said, “me and Fat over here will be leaving the moment we hand you two off. I’m not sleeping in one of Jiro’s tents so close to the war’s hot belly. I’m resting now so I can get going later. Now, get your rest or don’t, doesn’t matter to me. Got it?”
Emily rolled her eyes at the ninja’s rudeness, but he paid her no mind and lay down for his nap. It took a moment to shake the hostility, but not any longer.
“Looks like Ehuang isn’t the only one I pissed off,” Emily muttered to Takeo.
Takeo nudged up against another tree, and Emily took a seat beside him. Their shoulders touched, and Emily rubbed her elbow against his arm.
“I wouldn’t take it personally,” Takeo said. “Ninjas aren’t known for their manners, and as far as Ehuang goes, Lei told me she’s just being protective. He says she saw the way I looked at you and thought you were going to break my heart. I don’t think it made much sense. Ehuang was never the protective type, but I suppose Lei knows her better than me.”
“And how did I piss off Fat and Ugly over there?” Emily asked.
“Honestly?” Takeo tilted his head until his hair fell on her shoulder. “It’s because you’re a stranger and aren’t afraid of them.”
Emily scoffed and said, “Afraid? They’d like me if I was afraid? What are you talking about? You’re not afraid of them either.”
“I’m a samurai,” he explained. “We welcome death. It’s dishonorable for us to show fear, so they just let that slide. They are used to it, though they consider us all foolish for following a warrior code. For ninjas, though, half their power comes from reputation. Do you remember Lei explaining that all problems can be solved with a well-placed dagger? Well, imagine you’re sleeping one night and wake up to a dagger placed firmly near your head with a letter on it saying, ‘I’m watching,’ and it’s signed by Jabbar.”
“A dead rakshasa?” Emily smirked. “I’d probably laugh.”
“Now let’s say it’s from Heliena.”
“I’d probably be worried then,” Emily admitted.
“And that’s the kind of power ninjas are used to wielding,” Takeo said. “They leave a knife at someone’s bedside, telling them to make a certain choice, and that someone obeys because they respect the ninjas—well, respect born of fear. You gave them no fear so, in their minds, you gave them no respect. Of course, how could they have known you’ve killed an immortal?”
“You know, you keep saying that like it’s impressive, but I don’t see Juatwa lacking for immortals either. The oni are all immortals, and they are like ogres. I saw you face one down, and I’m fairly certain it’s not the first time you’ve done that.”
Takeo glanced at One and Two and saw their chests rise and fall with eyes shut. He scooted closer to Emily and lifted one arm. She gladly ducked under it.
“Oni are rare,” Takeo said. “So, believe it or not, that was my first time. I’ve heard guesses that there aren’t more than twenty or thirty Oni in all of Juatwa. I’ve seen them before—once when I was younger and a few times when I was in Katsu’s army—but we never fought them. Either we avoided them, or they avoided us. They prefer weak targets, and their akki can be rather cowardly.”
“Yet they fight for Jiro now against Katsu?” Emily mused. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“No, it doesn’t add up. I’ve never heard of oni fighting for a human before. I want to ask Jiro how he did it, but I won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because samurai are not supposed to question their lords,” Takeo said with a sigh, “and we’ll be on a short leash as it is, so I won’t push my luck. I sometimes took liberties with Katsu, and that earned me a bit of scorn, but I’d fought for him for years, so it was tolerated. I will not test Lord Jiro to see if he has the same feeling.”
Emily yawned and shifted her weight so she leaned more on Takeo than the tree. “I’m going to guess that I shouldn’t ask either?”
“It’s going to sound harsh, but I’d recommend you not talk at all,” Takeo said. “Even if what you have to say is right, you’re going to be hated for saying it in a lord’s presence. Sellswords, mercenaries, all foreign fighters, really, are strongly despised in Juatwa, especially by samurai. You’re going to be seen as stealing the glory of war from others.”
“Hated for nothing once more. Nothing I’m not used to.”
She closed her eyes and fell into the warmth of Takeo’s side.
“Emily,” he whispered.
“Hm?” she muttered, a moment from dozing off.
“What ever happened to those following Drowin?” he asked. “Like the leprechaun, and the traitor knights? Did they die, too?”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about Jack Borgan? He didn’t die, at least not that I think. He was imprisoned when I left. As far as the traitor knights, I don’t know that either. I never knew who they were.”
“Yes, you did,” Takeo replied. “You knew their leader at least. You saw him.”
Emily’s eyes cracked open, and she lifted her head to gaze at Takeo. His eyes showed just as much confusion as she felt.
“I did?” she asked.
“Yes. He was the one leading the ogres when you attacked the tower. Ah, what was his name? I can never remember his name. It was a strange name, like a letter followed by an actual name. He was old and bald; surely you remember.”
Emily’s lips slowly parted as her jaw went loose. A silent dread began to fill her, welling in her stomach.
“Mark O’Conner?” she said, voice strained. “He was the traitor knight?”
“Yes, that’s the name.” Takeo nodded, his eyes revealing apprehension. “You didn’t know? How could you not have known? Didn’t you see him leading the ogres?”
Emily’s stomach seemed to drop down an endless pit. A sickness came over her, and her body flashed hot, suddenly sweaty.
“We thought he was being forced,” Emily stuttered, pushing off of Takeo to stare at him, aghast. “We thought he didn’t have a choice.”
Takeo’s mouth was open now, too, hanging with just as much shock as Emily’s.
Takeo spoke as if in apology, “Emily, he helped us plan the death of the angels. He didn’t carry out the deed himself, but he helped us plan it.”
The dread in Emily’s stomach flowed up, and a dizziness came over her. She buried her head in her palms and moaned in anguish.
“No, that can’t be,” she begged. “I watched Drowin leave O’Conner to die. We saved him! How could they be allies?”
“Drowin had no more use for him,” Takeo explained. “O’Conner served his purpose. It was actually thanks to him that we knew you were alive. One of the angels confided in O’Conner, telling him that Quartus’ champion would come when things were at their worst. He knew it was you and told Drowin you were coming.”
Emily shook her head and clenched her fingers into her skull.
“Damn it,” she whispered. “Damn it! DAMN IT!”
“Where is he now?” Takeo asked. “What happened to him?”
“Drowin turned him into a vampire,” Emily said through short breaths, “and we gave him control of the city. Damn it all! We gave him Lucifan! The knight who murdered the angels i
s ruling Lucifan. Gavin should have killed him. I should have killed him.”
Emily slammed a fist into the dirt and gave a frustrated scream.
Chapter 21
Emily didn’t attempt to sleep. After a few moments of restless anger, she couldn’t even muster the strength to stay seated. While the ninjas dozed, Takeo watched with apologetic eyes as she paced back and forth in front of him, shaking her fists and burning holes in the ground with her gaze.
“I knew he was dirt,” she muttered. “I always hated him. Always! That filthy, scummy, cowardly, piece of trash!”
There had never been a positive moment between Emily and the senior knight, Sir Mark O’Conner. When they’d first met, she’d told him about Drowin’s plans to amass power. O’Conner had accused her of being a liar, and although she’d been hurt, she’d simply thought he was distrusting because she was a poor farmer’s daughter. The truth of it was that he was a hypocrite. He not only knew of Drowin’s plans; he’d been helping the vampire all along! The thought of it made Emily want to pull her hair out.
“And when he told me the angels were gone,” she continued to mutter, words slipping from her mouth as her mind pressed on, “he’d seemed so sympathetic. What a . . . a . . . I can’t even think of anything as horrible as him!”
Why did we just assume he was innocent, she questioned. No wonder he wanted to die, the monster.
She pulled the letters out: the one written to O’Conner and the one written by him. The one O’Conner wrote, the one casting aside his own child, was still unopened, and Emily was hit by a strong urge to rip it in two. She could only imagine all the horrible things he’d probably written it in, and it tore at her heart, picturing Belen receiving the letter.
She doesn’t deserve his rejection. She’s been through enough. I put her through enough.