by Julie Kagawa
“No,” I husked out. “I’m glad I’m here, that I have a chance to redeem myself by stopping the Wish and killing Genno. But... I can’t trust myself not to turn on everyone, enemy or friend.” Before, I could shut out Hakaimono’s anger and bloodlust because they weren’t mine. I had been trained to detach myself from all emotion, so I could control it. Now that viciousness was a part of me. Once I started killing, I might not be able to stop.
“I’m not afraid.”
Fear and anger flickered. She still didn’t understand what I was, what I could really do. Enough of this, Tatsumi. If you truly care for the girl, you’ll put a stop to this game right now. You’re a demon; you have no business hoping for anything. And if this continues, the day will come when you turn on her and she won’t see it coming. End this, once and for all.
Turning around, I let the rage bubble to the surface, the fury and bloodlust that was always there now, burning through my veins. I felt my horns grow red and hot, casting Yumeko’s face in a crimson glow. I felt fiery runes and symbols erupt along my arms and crawl up my neck, shining through my haori. As obsidian talons slid from my fingers, and curving fangs sliced up from my jaw, I stared at Yumeko and narrowed my eyes, which I knew were glowing a sullen red.
Yumkeo’s eyes widened, and she shrank back. For a moment, she stared at me, at the demon that had appeared on the platform with her. I kept my glare hard, dangerous, letting her see the bloodlust kept barely in check, ignoring the weary despair gnawing my insides. I didn’t want to do this to her. Yumeko was the first person who had ever seen me as something more than the Kage demonslayer, more than just the sword I carried. I hated that she would remember me like this: a demon. An oni lord, vicious and irredeemable. But it had to be done. Better to get this over with, that she learn to fear and hate me now, than wait for the day I inevitably betrayed her.
“This is what I am now,” I said coldly, letting Hakaimono’s harsh growl permeate my voice. “This is the merging of a demon and a human soul. I am grateful for what you did, Yumeko. Never think otherwise. But you should stay as far from me as you can. Otherwise this might be the last thing you ever see.”
Yumeko blinked, and her ears flattened to her skull. A strange expression crossed her face, one of defiance and determination, as if she were gathering all her reserves of courage. Before I had realized what was happening, she strode one step forward, took my face in both hands and kissed me.
What—?
Stunned, I went rigid, instantly losing my hold on the searing anger and bloodlust. Claws and fangs retracted, and the glowing symbols on my arms faded, dissolving to embers on the wind. My hands rose to grip her shoulders, feeling her body press close to mine, the rapid thudding of her heart against my chest.
It didn’t last long, the brief, gentle touch of her lips on mine. Just enough to completely turn my world upside down and leave me reeling before she pulled back. Dazed, I stared down at the kitsune, whose piercing golden eyes, open, determined and still completely unafraid, peered up at me.
“I trust you.” The words were a whisper into my soul. The tips of her thumbs brushed my cheek, unbearably tender, and I closed my eyes against the softness. “Oni or human, it doesn’t matter how your appearance changes. Your soul is still the same. I’m not afraid, Tatsumi, I can’t say it any clearer than that.”
“Yumeko.” Opening my eyes, I gazed down at the girl, gently curling my fingers around her wrist. She watched me, inhuman, naive, perfectly beautiful. She was going to be the death of us both, and I suddenly didn’t care.
“Oiiiiiiiii!” A shout came from below. “You in the crow’s nest! Eyes to the ocean! Can you see anything strange?”
A growl rumbled in the back of my throat, but I released Yumeko and pulled away, then glared down at the bottom of the mast. One of the sailors stood there, pointing frantically at the side of the ship.
“Something is out there!” he yelled as Yumeko also peered down, fox ears swiveling and curious. “In the water! It might be circling the ship, but we can’t make it out. Do you see anything up there?”
I looked over the black, glittering expanse of ocean, and a chill slid up my spine.
There was something in the water. Something huge. I could see a massive shadow gliding just below the waves, the rising bump of water as it approached the ship. Instinctively, I went through my list of large sea dwelling yokai and bakemono—ushi oni, koromodako and the enormous umibozu—and none of them were things I wanted to meet in the middle of the ocean.
“What is that?” Yumeko wondered, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she were afraid anything louder would draw the shadow’s attention. I didn’t reply, fearing I knew the answer, desperately hoping I was wrong.
The bump grew larger, rising into the air as it drew close. With an explosion of seawater and the roar of a tsunami, something dark and massive emerged from the depths and loomed to a terrifying height as it towered over us. A humanoid figure, but black as night, with no discerning features except two glowing eyes in its smooth, bald head. Those eyes fixed on us as the monster stared down at us in the crow’s nest, its lanky form taller than even the ship’s mast. Yumeko gasped, and I cursed under my breath as my suspicions were confirmed. This was not what we needed right now.
“Umibozu!” someone screamed from the deck, a frantic voice ringing into the night.
Instant panic swept the ship as every sailor’s greatest fear—meeting the monstrous creature known as the umibozu in the middle of the ocean—was realized. Almost nothing was known of them—what they were, how they lived, if there were numerous umibozu deep in the ocean depths or if the huge, hulking form facing us now was the only one of its kind. It was unknown why the umibozu appeared when it did. It never spoke, made no demands nor gave any indication of what it wanted. But no ship survived an encounter with an umibozu; the giant creature, whatever it was, would rise out of the sea, smash a vessel to kindling and simply vanish into the depths once more.
Yumeko drew in a shaky breath as the umibozu stared at us, silent and unfathomable. Its huge head was nearly at eye level, though I couldn’t see my reflection in that flat, pale gaze. I could feel the fox girl trembling against me, though she stood firm beneath the alien stare.
“Um...hello,” Yumeko said softly, as the giant creature continued to observe us like insects. “We’re sorry if we’ve trespassed where we don’t belong. I don’t suppose you’re here to point us in the right direction, are you?”
Without a sound, the umibozu raised a giant, shadowy arm and smashed it toward us.
7
The Umibozu
Yumeko
Tatsumi grabbed me around the waist and leaped out of the crow’s nest, making me yelp in surprise as we sprang into the air. Grabbing one of the dangling ropes, he swung toward the deck, as behind us, the snap of timber echoed at my back. Tatsumi dropped to the deck amid screaming, panicking sailors and immediately spun, drawing Kamigoroshi in a flare of purple light. Pieces of the mast crashed to the deck, rigging and wooden planks clattering around us, adding to the pandemonium.
“Find the others!” he snarled, as the monstrous bulk of the umibozu turned. “I’ll keep it distracted for as long as I can.”
“Tatsumi—”
“Don’t worry about me—I’ll meet you in Ushima. Go!”
With a howl, Tatsumi sprang for the shadowy monster, dodging humans as he raced across the deck. The umibozu raised an enormous arm and brought it crashing down, palm open like it was trying to squash a spider. At the last moment, Tatsumi threw himself to the side of the giant’s hand, which struck the ship deck with the snapping of wood and splintering of planks. The ship rocked violently, nearly knocking me off my feet, and the screams of the humans grew louder.
Snarling, Tatsumi sprang for the shadowy arm as it was rising into the air again, and slashed Kamigoroshi across its wrist. A dark, watery substance spray
ed from the umibozu’s arm, and the monster jerked, still making no sound, though its eyes, fixed on the demonslayer, now held a shadow of anger.
“Yumeko!”
I heard the arrival of our companions and spared them all a quick glance as they joined me on the shattered deck. Daisuke had his sword drawn, Okame his bow and Reika was clutching an ofuda, their faces pale as they stared up at the looming umibozu.
“Kuso,” the ronin breathed, sounding awed and horrified as he craned his neck back. “What the hell is that?”
“Umibozu.” The shrine maiden’s voice was resigned. “Great Kami, of all the creatures to meet on the way to the island...” She trembled, then shook herself and turned to the rest of us. “There’s no beating that thing. The ship is doomed, and everyone knows it. We have to find the lifeboats and get out of here, now.”
“What about Tatsumi?”
A shadow fell over the deck, as the umibozu raised one giant arm and brought it smashing down again. The boat bucked like a wild horse, and I collapsed to the deck. Its second arm swept down, hitting the mast, and the thick pole snapped like a twig and crashed to the deck, crushing two sailors beneath it.
“Abandon ship!” someone screeched in the swirling chaos. Wincing, I looked up to see the umibozu casually backhand a trio of sailors off the deck. They flew through the air, screaming, and plummeted into the dark waters below. I could no longer see Tatsumi through the scrambling mass of sailors around us, and worry for him twisted my stomach.
“Come on, Yumeko-chan!” A firm hand gripped my elbow, pulling me upright. Okame’s face was grim as he set me on my feet and held me steady as the ship bounced and shuddered. “This boat is going down—we need to get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”
I bit my lip, glanced once more at the enormous umibozu, and made a split-second decision.
“Keep going, I’ll catch up!”
“Yumeko!” Reika cried as I broke away from Okame and ran toward the bow of the ship. Toward the huge umibozu looming at the front.
As I drew closer, dodging sailors and humans going the other way, I could see the glow of Kamigoroshi beneath the shadow of the umibozu. I saw Tatsumi, his face set and determined, plant his feet as the giant’s hand descended toward him, palm open like it was going to squash him like a bug. As the limb came down, he braced himself and stabbed Kamigoroshi over his head, and the point of his blade impaled the umibozu’s palm and tore through the back. The force of the blow still smashed the demonslayer to the deck, the wood breaking and splintering beneath him. A jet of what looked like ink sprayed from the umibozu’s hand, but it didn’t jerk back or pull away. As I watched, heart pounding, the long fingers curled around the demonslayer and raised him into the air.
Terror shot through me, and somewhere deep inside, an icy flame roared to life, igniting in the pit of my stomach. My hand opened, a sphere of kitsune-bi flaring to my fingers. It burned white-hot against my skin, warping the air around it, brighter than anything I had conjured before. With a cry, I threw it at the monstrous form of the umibozu.
The globe of foxfire struck the monster’s elbow and exploded, and for the first time, a noise emerged from the previously silent umibozu. A wail like the howl of a typhoon or the screams of a hundred drowning men echoed into the night. It turned on me, dropping Tatsumi to the deck, the demonslayer forgotten. Bloodied and torn, Tatsumi struggled to his feet, his eyes widening as they met my gaze.
Overhead, the umibozu raised both fists and brought them down with the force of a lightning strike. The ship lurched violently, and I was thrown off my feet, splinters and wood flying around me, stinging like hornets where they hit my skin. Twisting through the air, I saw deck rushing up at me and braced myself, covering my face with my arms.
I hit the shattered planks and rolled, the ground spinning wildly, before I came to a breathless, dizzy halt on the deck. Wincing, hoping the nausea would fade soon, I tried pushing myself to my elbows, but a searing pain ripped through my side, like someone had jabbed the point of a knife between my ribs. I gasped, my hand going to the spot where the pain originated, feeling the rough edges of a long piece of wood jutting from my skin. When I pulled my hand away, my fingers were smeared with something shiny and dark.
Not good, Yumeko. My mind whirled, confused, knowing I was hurt but refusing to accept that I could be dying. Get up. Find...find Reika. She’ll know what to do...
“Yumeko!”
Tatsumi’s voice rang across the deck, angry and almost desperate. I looked up...just in time to see the umibozu drive its fist through the top of the ship. The vessel bounced wildly as it was ripped apart, and the planks beneath me disappeared. I plummeted into the darkness, terror rising in my chest, before I struck the ocean and the icy waters closed over my head.
The currents dragged me under, and I couldn’t find the strength to claw my way back to the air. I was sinking, cold and paralyzed, watching the surface get farther and farther away. Blackness crawled on the edges of my vision, a swarm of insects closing in, but looking up once more, I thought I could see a purple glow, coming steadily closer.
Then the darkness flooded in, and I knew nothing else.
PART II
8
Entering the Game
Suki
Suki had never known that the ocean could stretch on forever.
Her mother had spoken of it sometimes, in the years before she died. Originally, she had been from Kaigara Mura, a tiny coastal village in Water Clan territory. When she’d told stories of her childhood, they would be of a white beach full of seashells and the glittering expanse of water that stretched to the horizon. Having lived her whole life within the high walls and crowded streets of the Imperial City, Suki couldn’t have imagined what that would be like.
Now, seeing nothing but water in every direction she looked, she concluded that it was terrifying.
“I love the ocean,” Taka sighed. He sat in the open door of the flying carriage, his short legs dangling in open air, as they soared over the endless expanse of water. The interior of the gissha, the ox carriage, was boxy and windowless, with enough room to stand without hitting your head on the ceiling. The bamboo doors at the back were usually closed, but now hung open, revealing blue sky and floating clouds. Normally, these types of lacquered, two-wheeled carriages were pulled by a single ox and were reserved for the highest of nobility. Certainly, the ghost of a simple maid and a small talkative yokai did not qualify, but the owner of the carriage, Lord Seigetsu, did not seem to mind their presence, so she did not question it.
Taka took a deep breath, the corners of his mouth curling up. “I love the way it smells, too,” he sighed. “Like fish and salt and rain.” Glancing up at her, the little yokai with the clawed hands and single enormous eye grinned toothily, his fangs glimmering in the dim light of the carriage. “Aren’t you glad you came back, Suki-chan? You would have missed all of this.”
Suki managed a weak smile, and Taka returned to watching the waves. Turning from the open doors, she glanced back at the figure in the corner, seated cross-legged with his back to the wall and his eyes closed. Lord Seigetsu, the man she had followed from the Imperial City, across the Sun lands, to the tallest peaks of the Dragon Spine Mountains. Why she, a wandering spirit with no tie to the world, had chosen to travel across the empire with a beautiful, mysterious stranger and a one-eyed yokai, she still wasn’t certain. Perhaps it was because she was still curious about Lord Seigetsu. With his long silver hair and strange powers, he remained just as enigmatic as the night she had met him. Perhaps it was because he could, with Taka’s aid, see parts of the future. And even more disturbing, he had told Suki that she herself had a very important role to play in upcoming events.
This frightened Suki greatly. She was the ghost of a simple maid, insignificant and unimportant. At least, she thought she was; the memories of her previous life were becoming hazier with eve
ry passing day. She couldn’t recall much of her old life now. If she thought hard about it, she remembered her father, the house they’d shared and her final days as a maid in the Imperial Palace. But those memories were painful, and Suki did not care to dwell on them. Perhaps that was why they were fading.
Though, there was one memory that continued to shine, no matter how much she tried to bury her past. One chance meeting with a noble, during her first day in the Imperial Palace. She had literally run into him with a tea tray while lost in the palace halls, and rather than punishing her for daring to touch him, he had smiled and responded with kindness, then pointed her in the right direction. She had never forgotten the way he’d spoken to her like she was a real person. Even with her death, his face remained as bright and clear in her memory as the day they had met.
Taiyo Daisuke of the Sun Clan. An Imperial noble, as far above her station as a prince to a farmer. He was the real reason she could not leave, why she couldn’t seem to move on. Taiyo Daisuke was also part of Taka’s prophecy, another key player in the game Lord Seigetsu kept referencing. A game with life-or-death consequences.
She had saved the noble from impending death once before, warning him and his companions of a demon attack that might’ve killed them all. Though she wouldn’t have been able to do it—to find the courage to act—without Lord Seigetsu. He had shown her the way, encouraged her to save them. Now the game continued, and the lives of the Sun noble and his friends continued to hang in the balance.
In life, she had loved Daisuke-sama. She wasn’t certain she could anymore, as a ghost; everything, even emotions, had become hazy. But she was invested now. For better or worse, she would see the game through to the end.
They came out of the clouds, and suddenly, an island as bright and green as a precious jewel appeared below them in the middle of the sea. Taka’s eye lit up, a huge smile crossing his face as he scrambled to his feet.