by Julie Kagawa
“Oh, well, how lucky for us,” the ronin sighed. “The docks are exactly where we need to go. It’s as if someone knew we would come this way.”
“Someone did,” I said.
All eyes turned to me. I was suddenly grateful for the wide-brimmed hat concealing my demon marks, even if it was an illusion. “Do you think Genno is here, Tatsumi?” asked Yumeko.
I shook my head. “Not anymore. But he knows we survived the massacre at the temple. And he knows we’re going to the Moon Clan islands to stop him. He’s trying to slow us down, or keep us from following. This is the most likely place we would go to find a ship.”
“So, this is because of us,” Yumeko said quietly.
“No.” The shrine maiden frowned, her voice firm. “This is because Genno is a madman with no respect for human life. All the more reason he must be stopped.” She glared back at the entrance, dark gaze narrowed. “We need to get to the docks. Maybe there is still a ship that can take us to the Tsuki islands.”
“You’re leaving?” The woman with the child pressed forward, her voice and eyes desperate. “No, please, you can’t leave us like this! We’re not warriors. The dead will slaughter us all if they find us here. You must help us.”
“I’m sorry.” Reika shook her head, her voice sympathetic. “But we are only five, and there is no time. I will pray to the Kami for your safety, but we cannot offer any aid.”
“We have to help them, Reika-san.”
This, of course, was from Yumeko, who stepped toward the shrine maiden, her own expression pleading. “We’re responsible for this mess,” she argued. “Genno left these things here for us. We can’t abandon these people to die.”
“Yumeko.” The miko’s voice was not nearly as sympathetic as she glared at the kitsune. “We cannot fight an entire town of raised dead. Even if we could somehow slay them all, it would take far too long, and Genno already has a head start on us.”
“What if we stopped the source?” Yumeko asked, and glanced at me. “This is blood magic, right? Is there a spell or a talisman that is causing the dead to rise? Could we end the curse that way?”
Once again, all eyes turned toward me. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, I crossed my arms. “This is blood magic,” I confirmed. “And typically, with a curse this strong, a coven or cabal of mages would have to be close by, maintaining the spell. Kill the cabal, and the spell fails. The dead will return to being dead.”
“But we don’t know where the mages would be,” the shrine maiden said. “They could be anywhere in this town.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “but the greatest concentration of blood magic is where the dead will be drawn to. So, the area swarming with corpses is where we will find the cabal.”
“The docks,” the peasant woman gasped. “The warehouse. All the dead are coming from that direction. The coven must be there. Please...” She clasped her hands together, gazing at us hopefully. “Please, will you save us? Save us from this curse. I beg you.”
“We have to go there anyway, Reika-san,” Yumeko said, refusing to wilt as the shrine maiden glared at her. “We’ll just take care of a coven of blood mages on the way.”
Reika let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I suppose we have no choice now,” she muttered, and looked at the rest of us. “If everyone else agrees...?”
“Of course,” the noble said immediately. “These are not my lands, but what has been done here is blasphemous and an affront to the empire. Blood magic is punishable by death, and those who engage in such darkness forfeit their life. I will gladly rid the empire of such evil.”
The ronin shrugged. “Well, I’ve got nowhere else to go,” he said. “Fighting hordes of the dead seems a fun way to spend an evening. Unless we vote to stay here and make sure all the sake doesn’t go to waste...? No? Fine, blood mages it is.”
Yumeko glanced at me. “Tatsumi?”
“I’m with you, Yumeko,” I answered simply. “Just point me at the cabal, and I’ll make sure they die.”
Reika shook her head, then turned to the gathered civilians. “Is there perhaps a back door we can sneak through?” she asked. “So we don’t attract the attention of the dead outside?”
A few of them nodded. “This way,” said the woman, and led us through the sake house to a singular door at the end of a storeroom. “This leads into the alley between the sake house and the restaurant next door,” she told us in a hushed voice. “From here, the docks are due west, and the warehouse sits at the south end of the dock. Be careful.”
“We’ll try our best,” Yumeko said.
The woman clutched Yumeko’s sleeve. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you. Kami protect you all.”
She hurried away, leaving us alone in the darkened room. Reika let out another sigh.
“Well,” she said softly, glancing at us, “any ideas of how we’re going to get past an army of raised dead?”
“Cut a path right through them?” I suggested.
“That’s not very subtle, Kage-san.” Reika frowned. “And we don’t know how many we’re dealing with. There could be hundreds of them out there, maybe thousands. We’d be letting the blood mages know exactly where we are.”
“I fail to see another way.” The miko’s jaw tightened, and I shrugged. “Unless you want me to go alone. I can get past them unseen, head to the warehouse and deal with the mages, but I can’t take all of you with me.”
“No.” Immediately, the noble shook his head. “No one goes alone, Kage-san. Not that I doubt your abilities, but we cannot lose you. This is our war. We fight it together.”
“Right.” The ronin rolled his shoulders back. “So, it’s the old kick down the door and slaughter anything that moves approach, after all, is it? Seems to be our favorite. Not sure how many dead things I can kill with a handful of arrows, but at least I’ll make a juicy target.”
“Wait,” came Yumeko’s voice, and a ripple of fox magic went through the air. She turned and held something up to her face: a pale, smiling mask that seemed to glow in the darkness. “I have an idea.”
5
Fooling the Dead
Yumeko
I opened the door cautiously, peeking through the crack. A quiet alley greeted me. At the moment, it was empty, and I took a furtive breath to calm my heart.
I hope this works.
“Kami, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Reika whispered at my back. “What makes you think this is going to work, kitsune?”
I glanced over my shoulder. The miko’s face was hidden behind the white corpse mask, but I had no doubt she was frowning at me. The others pressed behind her, wearing the same white masks and looking quite dead. Their skin was a bloated gray, their clothes torn and bloody; Okame even had the illusion of an arrow jutting from his back, and one side of Daisuke’s long white hair was stained red. A group of masked walking corpses was possibly the grimmest illusion I’d ever had to craft, and the strain of keeping so much fox magic active at once was starting to wear on me, but it was the best solution I could think of.
I gave the shrine maiden a weak smile, even though it was hidden by my mask. “Well, they didn’t seem to know the difference between an illusion and the real thing when we first ran into them,” I said. “I’m hoping they can’t see through fox magic, and that we’ll be able to walk right up to the warehouse.”
“It’s never that easy.”
“Maybe it will be this time.” I peered up and down the alley, making sure it was still vacant, and nodded. “All right, it looks clear. Just...act like you’re dead, Reika-san. Shamble a little.”
She glared daggers at me, but I ignored her and stepped into the alley.
Almost as soon as I did, there was a shuffle at the end of the street, and a body lurched into view, hitting the corner of the sake house. It gazed at me with flat gray eyes, and I froze, wondering if it could smell my bre
ath and hear the pounding of my heart, sure indicators that I was not one of the raised dead. But after a long, chilling moment, the corpse turned and staggered away, and I breathed out slowly in relief.
“You are blessed by Tamafuku himself,” Reika muttered behind me. “Let’s hope that great luck of yours holds until we reach the warehouse.”
Carefully, we headed toward the docks, trying to stay out of sight but not look like we were trying to stay out of sight. It was almost impossible. Living corpses filled the streets, shuffling aimlessly through the mud or just standing in place, staring at nothing. They didn’t appear to notice us as we passed, however; it seemed the illusion, or the presence of the white masks hiding our faces, was working.
Through the cloying stench of blood and decay, I caught the faint, clean smell of the ocean and heard the lapping of waves against the stones. We passed through the space between two buildings, and the docks came into view, a series of long wooden walkways stretching over the water. A few smaller ships and fishing boats bobbed gently closer to shore, and a single large ship sat alone near the end of the docks.
There were a lot more raised dead here, ambling down the docks and even stumbling over the decks of the ships. But the greatest numbers swarmed around a long wooden warehouse at the far end of the docks. I could feel a darkness emanating from the building, a magic that felt like squirming maggots and buzzing flies, the unmistakable taint of blood magic.
I looked to the others, seeking their eyes behind the masks. “What now?” I asked.
Tatsumi met my gaze. “Keep going,” he murmured, his voice very low. “The warehouse is our target.”
I glanced at the swarms of bodies shambling between us and the distant warehouse, and my skin crawled. There was no way through without having to pass an arm’s length from the crowds of dead. A cursory look was one thing, but would my illusions hold up if we got that close? Or if any of them actually touched us?
As we started walking, I reached into my obi and found one of the leaves I had hidden in the folds. I drew it out and released another tiny pulse of fox magic, then let the leaf flutter to the ground, just as the first group of corpses looked up and spotted us.
They didn’t react to our presence, not at first. But as we continued on, hugging the edge of the street, more and more heads started to turn. Flat, dead gazes followed me down the road, and as we drew closer to the warehouse, several corpses broke away from the main swarm and stumbled in our direction. I could feel the tension in the bodies behind me, hands dropping to sword hilts, the soft but menacing growls from Chu, as the dead shuffled toward us.
“Looks like the farce is up,” Okame muttered, and I saw him reach back for his bow. “So, now the question becomes, how quickly can we get to the warehouse before the entire town swarms us?”
“Wait, Okame-san,” I whispered, holding out a hand. “Everyone. Don’t do anything yet.”
The ronin’s eyes frowned at me behind the mask, but he dropped his hand from his weapon. “If you say so, Yumeko-chan,” he murmured, and his gaze flicked to the crowds of dead shambling toward us. “But, uh, those dead are still coming. What exactly are we waiting—?”
A scream echoed over the docks. Immediately, all the dead in the area straightened and turned toward the sound. A figure stood at the end of the street, gazing in horror at the living corpses, her eyes wide with fear. She had my face, my clothes and my body, and she shrieked in my voice as she stumbled away from the dead, tripped over her robes and fell to the ground.
With chilling cries and groans, the horde lurched after her, rushing forward like ants descending on a locust body. The fake Yumeko scrambled to her feet, nearly falling again and screaming all the while, then fled with the mob at her heels. As she turned a corner and vanished from sight, I gave a mental command for the illusion to keep running as long as it could and turned to the others, who were watching the dead stream away from us in bemusement.
“Come on, minna! While they’re distracted.”
Okame gave a snort of laughter, shaking his head, as we started for the warehouse again. “That settles it,” he muttered. “When this is over, you and I need to visit a gambling hall, Yumeko-chan. One night, and I’d earn more riches than the emperor.”
We approached the warehouse, which was a long stone-and-wood building that appeared to be locked tight. We drew close, and I shivered as the dark magic radiating from within made my skin crawl and my stomach writhe. The double doors stood closed and unguarded, but Reika put out an arm, halting us.
“Wait.” Drawing out an ofuda, she hurled it at the doors. When the strip of paper touched the wood, there was a pulse of magic that flared purple-black for a moment, and the ofuda sizzled to ashes. Reika gave a grim nod.
“There’s a barrier around the warehouse,” she told the rest of us. “Extremely strong blood magic that’s either keeping something out, or something in. Either way, we don’t want to touch it.”
“How do we get in, then?” Okame wanted to know.
“Give me a few minutes,” Reika said, pulling another ofuda and holding it between two fingers. “I might be able to dispel it...”
Tatsumi drew his sword. It screeched as it came into the light, causing the hairs on my arms to rise. Without a word, he walked to the warehouse doors and brought Kamigoroshi slicing down across the wood.
The second the glowing blade touched the barrier, there was a shriek, the sound of breaking porcelain and a pulse of energy exploding outward. I cringed, flattening my ears, as the sensation of being covered with writhing, wriggling things flowed over me before scattering to the winds. Reika blinked.
“Or, you could do that,” she remarked.
Tatsumi raised a foot and kicked the doors, and they flew open with a crash, wrenching from their tracks and clattering to the floor. Without hesitation, he strode forward, blade pulsing against the darkness, and disappeared through the frame.
“Right,” Okame sighed as the rest of us hurried after Tatsumi. “I guess the subtle approach is out.”
Reika snorted. “When have we ever tried the subtle approach?”
The interior of the warehouse was dark and warm, the air stale. And as soon as I stepped through the doors, the heavy, cloying stench of rot and blood and decay hit me like a hammer. The reason for this was obvious; bodies were everywhere, stacked along the wall and in corners, some piled higher than my head. Swarms of flies crawled over the bloody mounds, their droning buzz filling the air, and several furry things scampered away from where they were chewing the exposed flesh. I put both hands to my nose and mouth, my insides twisting with horror, and lost my hold on the illusions covering us. With small pops of white smoke, the images of masks and corpses disappeared, and we were ourselves again.
“This is...” Daisuke shook his head, his normally cool, unruffled expression pale with shock “...blasphemy,” he finally whispered. “Why would someone do such a thing?”
Tatsumi turned. His eyes glowed red in the dim light, and his horns and claws were fully exposed. Ominous tattoos had appeared on his arms and neck, flickering like they were made of fire. His mouth twisted in a chilling smile that was not in any way Kage Tatsumi. “This is blood magic,” he told us. “The more blood, death and suffering, the more powerful the spell. Which means Genno’s witches are very close.”
“Indeed, Hakaimono,” said a new voice overhead. I glanced up as a trio of figures appeared at the edge of the loft, gazing down at us. They were women, or perhaps they had been at one point. The one in front was tall and withered, with black claws curling from her fingers and a yellow glow to her eyes. The other two were more human-looking, though they both bore vivid red scars on their arms and legs, and one of them had a terrible gash down her face and a scarred hole where her eye used to be.
The head witch pointed a long talon at Tatsumi. “We knew you would come, First Oni,” she rasped. “You and your comp
anions will not leave this place alive. We will not allow you to interfere with Lord Genno’s plans. He will summon the Dragon, and the empire will tremble with his return. But you will die here, as will everyone who stands against the Master of Demons.”
She flung out a hand, and a ripple of dark power went through the air. Around us, the piles of corpses started to move. They shifted, roiling together, and then rose, enormous masses of flesh, limbs and bodies, dozens of corpses fused into grotesque, terrible monsters. They lurched and slithered from the piles, numerous hands reaching for us, numerous voices moaning as one.
“Okay, that is disgusting,” Okame said, raising his bow. The mounds of corpses were converging on us, a slowly tightening circle. He fired an arrow into one monster’s head with a thunk. The head slumped, the arrow sticking from its eye socket, but the rest of the groaning faces and reaching arms didn’t seem to notice. “We might be in trouble, here.”
“Yumeko, get back,” Tatsumi said as Daisuke drew his blade and Chu erupted into his real form with a snarl. Stepping forward, the shrine guardian formed the points of a triangle with Tatsumi and Daisuke, with me, Reika and Okame in the center. Heart pounding, I opened my hands, and foxfire flickered to life in my palms, illuminating the horrible faces of the dead looming over us. Tatsumi gave a grim smile and raised his sword. “This is going to get messy.”
The corpse mounds staggered forward with muffled groans. I yelped and threw up a wall of foxfire, causing a few of them to flinch back from the sudden light. As they lurched to a halt, Tatsumi and Daisuke lunged through the wall of kitsune-bi and into the midst of the dead.
The corpse mounds bellowed, reaching for them with dozens of hands, clawed fingers grasping. Daisuke spun and whirled around them, his sword a blur, and severed limbs fell twitching to the ground. Tatsumi snarled as he leaped into the air, bringing Kamigoroshi slicing through the middle of a corpse mound, cutting it in two. The bodies made disgusting squelching noises as they slid apart, and an eye-burning stench rose from the pile, making my stomach heave.