Night of the Dragon

by Julie Kagawa

  Relieved, but a bit confused, I followed the samurai through the gates into the streets of Shinsei Yaju.

  Immediately, I could feel the presence of the kami.

  It was like stepping into the heart of the sacred forest, only instead of trees, buildings, houses and shrines surrounded us. The city was full of kami. I saw kodama everywhere, in the branches of ancient trees growing along the road, skipping over the roofs of houses, even perched on the shoulders and heads of some humans, who were either used to the tiny kami’s presence or oblivious. A bird with brilliant red plumage and long tail feathers wreathed in flame sat preening on the roof of a shrine, while below, a ghostly dog followed a boy through the streets, wagging its tail when the child turned to talk to it.

  A giggle caught my attention. Glancing over, I saw a girl sitting on the steps of a simple house, a paper pinwheel in one small hand. She waved at me, and I caught the flash of yellow in her large eyes, saw the familiar black-tipped ears standing atop her head, and my breath caught. But when I stopped to call out to her, she turned and scurried up the steps to her house, bushy tail flowing behind her, and vanished through the doors of the house.

  “So, yokai live here, too,” Tatsumi murmured as we continued down the street. “Or, at least, they’re not reviled and shunned. There was a bakeneko sitting on a fence earlier, and I’m sure I saw a kappa under one of the bridges. It’s amazing they can live here without bloodshed.”

  “They have everything they need here,” I realized, feeling an odd sense of longing tug at me. “The humans in this place accept them. They’re not strange or monstrous or something to be feared—they’re part of the natural world, just like the kami.”

  “I can see why the Moon Clan prefers to stay isolated,” Tatsumi went on, watching as a glowing white moth drifted down, transparent wings beating erratically, to hover around him. “And why outsiders aren’t allowed into their cities. Not all clans would take such a peaceful approach to the arrangement here.”

  I didn’t answer. The kitsune girl had appeared again, leaping down the back steps of her home, only this time she was met by two children of similar age. They laughed together, bouncing around each other, and then all three of them scampered off, disappearing around a corner.

  I took a shaky breath and turned away, a stinging sensation in my eyes. “I’m glad,” I whispered. “I’m glad they have somewhere they can be themselves. Where they can be safe.”

  Tatsumi didn’t say anything to that, and we continued in silence through the city.

  The Moon Clan Palace loomed above us as we crossed an arched bridge and made our way toward its gates. Fierce komainu statues, ten times larger than Chu, flanked the opening, their stone gazes proud and defiant. I wondered if, like Chu, they could also come alive to defend the palace if called upon. Past the gates was a serene, peaceful garden, raked white sand and bamboo glittering under the rising yellow moon. A few nobles were outside, clustered in small groups, their voices muted in the shadows.

  As we passed a trio of noblewomen standing by a small pond, one of them glanced up, and her eyes went wide as she saw me. Quickly, she spun back, averting her gaze, but the frenzied whispers and furtive glances over their shoulders made my tail bristle. Tatsumi frowned. He, too, had seen the odd behavior, but there was nothing we could do but follow the guards up the steps and through the main entrance of the palace.

  The hall beyond the enormous double doors glowed softly with lantern light, casting an orange light over the polished wood-and-tile floor. More nobles were scattered throughout the chamber, along with several samurai and guards. I saw more stares thrown my way as we crossed the room, caught the looks of confusion and disbelief in the eyes of the humans around me, and wondered, in this city full of kami, spirits and yokai, if they all could see through my disguise to the kitsune beneath.

  And if they could see the fox striding so boldly through the palace, could they also see the demon beside her?

  Near the back of the chamber, where the golden statues of a phoenix and a dragon loomed over the assembly, a voice rose into the air. Stern, female and instantly familiar. A small group of people clustered beneath the statues; I could see a ripple of long white hair, a small figure in red hakama, a lean form with a bow strapped over his back.

  I gasped and rushed forward. “Minna!” I called, waving my arm. “Daisuke, Reika, Okame-san, you made it!”

  They whirled, their faces registering disbelief and shock. “Yumeko,” Reika cried, and hurried forward to throw her arms around me in a brief embrace. I returned it, but almost immediately, the shrine maiden pulled back to look me in the eye, her expression stern once more. “Are you all right?” she demanded, slender fingers digging into my arms. “What happened after the ship went down? Where...?” Her gaze flicked to Tatsumi, standing silently at my back, and a slender brow arched. “Kage-san?”

  I didn’t see Tatsumi, but he must’ve nodded, for she relaxed and turned back as Daisuke and Okame stepped forward, as well. “Yumeko-chan.” Okame grinned, shaking his head. “So, you made it. I tried to tell these two not to worry, that you have the luck of Tamafuku himself. Even after we got separated, I knew you and Kage-san would turn up in the most unexpected place possible.”

  “Is that so?” Reika said flatly. “And who was drinking himself into a stupor that first night because he was sure they were both eaten by the umibozu?”

  “That was because I nearly drowned.” Okame raised a hand toward the ceiling. “And I’m not too proud to say that watching a fifty-foot shadow man rise out of the ocean and smash a ship to kindling is slightly traumatic. Frankly, I don’t understand how you don’t drink every night.”

  Daisuke smiled. “It is good to see you, Yumeko-san,” he said, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. “You and Kage-san both. I feared the sea had claimed you when the monster destroyed the ship. But you made it back to us, after all, thank the kami.”

  “What happened to the three of you?” I asked, gazing at each of them. “After the ship was destroyed, how did you end up here?”

  “We managed to float into Heishi harbor,” Okame said. “After the locals fished us out of the water, we told them our reason for coming, and they sent us here to speak to the daimyo.”

  “We only just arrived,” Reika added. She looked troubled now, watching me with shadowed eyes. Something in her gaze was a warning, though I didn’t understand from what. “Kiyomi-sama was kind enough to grant us an audience, but...”

  “But she was unaware that two others would also be coming to her city,” said a voice behind Reika. “And that they were also looking to prevent the Summoning of the Dragon.”

  I looked up as Daisuke, Reika and Okame moved aside, revealing a woman standing between them. And suddenly, I couldn’t move, feeling my shock rise to clash with the rest of the room’s. I understood now the strange looks and glances of the nobles, the disbelief in the eyes of the court. Apparently, they weren’t reacting to seeing a kitsune at all.

  The daimyo of the Moon Clan stood before me, small and slender, with long, straight hair and a firm, no-nonsense mouth. Her billowing robes were silver gray with the silhouettes of bamboo and dragonflies staining the fabric like ink. Her dark eyes stared into mine, mirroring my own stunned expression. She was undoubtedly older—faint lines radiated from the corners of her eyes and mouth, and a few silvery strands were threaded in her hair, but the similarities were unmistakable.

  Me. The woman staring wide-eyed, like she, too, had seen a ghost...was me.

  11

  Longings of Yurei

  Suki

  She’s here.

  Hovering invisible near the rafters of the main hall, Suki watched the fox girl enter the room and felt an immediate swell of relief. For two days, she had drifted around the Moon Clan Palace, watching nobles, servants and samurai go about their daily lives. She had been surprised to learn that she was
not the only spirit hovering around the Tsuki palace; in the gardens, she had glimpsed a pale, glowing woman standing wistfully at the edge of the pond, and a child in a beautifully patterned kimono had laughed and waved to her in one of the halls before it turned and walked right through a shoji screen. They did not seem hostile, existing peacefully with the humans, the odd yokai and the hundreds of tiny green kami that were everywhere in and around the palace. The humans did not seem to begrudge sharing their home with ghosts and kami, leaving out offerings of food, sweets and sake, even asking a spirit’s pardon before entering a room. If Suki could have chosen a place to haunt for the rest of eternity, there were certainly worse places in the empire than the palace of the Moon Clan.

  But she had a job to do, and Seigetsu-sama was counting on her. She could sense him sometimes, another presence lurking behind her vision, not intrusive or frightening, but definitely there. Mostly, he was an impassive observer, one she could almost forget about. Only once, when she’d first seen the woman who she later learned was the daimyo of the Moon Clan, had she felt a glimmer of emotion that was not her own. Curiosity? Amusement? Regret? The emotion vanished before she could place it, and she suspected Lord Seigetsu would not explain his mysterious interest in the Moon Clan daimyo to her, so she watched the woman closely, knowing she was special.

  Two days later, Suki had been in the main hall, observing the daimyo and the crowds from her place near the ceiling, when the doors opened and a pair of guards entered.

  Escorting Daisuke-sama, the ronin and the shrine maiden.

  Suki’s hands had flown to her mouth, a relieved smile breaking over her face. The Sun Clan noble looked weary and disheveled, his robes torn and his long white hair a tangled mess, but he still looked beautiful to Suki’s eyes. Daisuke-sama, she thought, watching as the guards led them to the daimyo. You came. I’m so glad you’re all right.

  There was a faint stirring from within, a ripple of something terrifying crossing her mind, and Suki had frozen, wondering what she had done wrong. Lord Seigetsu’s voice echoed in her head, chilling and ominous. The kitsune is not with them, he observed. Nor is the demonslayer. This was not supposed to happen. Why could I not predict this?

  His fury had been suffocating. Choking and terrible, even though, as a ghost, she didn’t breathe. She huddled against the ceiling, wanting to flee but knowing she couldn’t escape the presence inside her. Taka, she heard him muse in a cold voice that made her want to shiver into mist and disappear, your visions did not account for this. Did I make a mistake, or has your usefulness come to an end?

  “Yumeko!”

  Suki had jerked up as the shout echoed through the hall. Relief had filled her when the kitsune girl herself strode into the room, an old monk trailing after her. She was immediately surrounded by her friends, talking excitedly about what happened after they were separated, and Suki went numb as she observed their reunion.

  She felt Seigetsu sigh, and the terrible fury evaporated like frost in the sun. She is safe, he breathed. She and the demonslayer both. Her fortune continues to defy fate, and the game goes on. Suki-chan, he said, making her start at the direct communication. I thank you for this. You don’t understand the significance, but all the pieces are now in place. The last maneuver is about to begin. Please return to me when you are ready. I have one final task for you.

  And just like that, he was gone, his consciousness fading from her mind completely. Startled by his abrupt departure and the sudden, eerie emptiness left behind, Suki looked back to where the fox girl and her companions were speaking to the daimyo. The Taiyo noble stood quietly beside the ronin, his beautiful face and relieved smile making her insides twist.

  Daisuke-sama, she thought. I’m afraid for you, for everyone. Something is about to begin, and only Lord Seigetsu knows what that is. I don’t want you to die. I wish I could tell you what is happening.

  She hesitated. Perhaps she could find a way to speak to him, if only for a moment. Seigetsu-sama had asked her to return; he needed her for one final task, and she did not want to disappoint him. But this might be the last time she would see Taiyo Daisuke, her last chance to talk to the noble she had loved in life. Surely Seigetsu-sama would not begrudge her a few more minutes.

  Suki struggled with herself a moment more, then gathered her courage and made a decision. Still invisible, she dropped from the ceiling and drifted silently toward the Taiyo noble.

  12

  The Moon Clan Daimyo

  Yumeko

  “Who are you?” the daimyo whispered. Around us, the court, the samurai, and even Daisuke, Okame and Reika, disappeared, fading into a surreal background of blurred colors and muted sound. The woman standing before me was the only clear image in the room.

  “I...my name is Yumeko,” I answered. “I’m nobody, Kiyomi-sama, just a peasant from the Earth Clan mountains. I...” I trailed off, for the daimyo had stepped forward, her expression searching. I saw her gaze flit to the top of my head and knew, without a doubt, that she could see my true self. Briefly, I felt a stab of fear for Tatsumi: if the daimyo of the Moon Clan could see my fox nature, she would certainly notice the half-demon in the room, as well. But Tsuki-sama didn’t even glance at Tatsumi. Shaking her head, she staggered back a pace, as if she could not believe her eyes.

  “How?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “How can this be? I gave you up for lost. And now you return, on the eve of the Summoning, when the world teeters on the brink of change. I...” She paused, looking stricken, but then raised her chin and drew herself up. “Why have you come?” she asked in a hard voice.

  I swallowed. “We’ve been chasing the Dragon scroll,” I said, and her eyes widened once more. “A great evil has come to your lands, Kiyomi-sama. Genno, the Master of Demons, has all three pieces of the prayer, and intends to use the Wish to bring darkness to the empire.”

  “Your friends have told me this,” the daimyo said. “But you must understand—the Moon Clan made a pact with the kami long ago not to interfere in the ways of men or gods. We are impartial observers, far removed from the strife and politics of the rest of the empire. These are the Dragon’s lands. We thrive on the back of a sleeping god, and we have promised never to seek out the power of the Dragon’s Prayer, nor attempt to stop those who wish to call upon the Harbinger. Change must come—it is the way of the kami.”

  “But your people are in danger,” I insisted. “Genno is trying to overthrow the empire. He doesn’t want to bring about change, he wants to bring about destruction. We came here to try to stop him, but the Master of Demons has an army, and we can’t do this ourselves. We need your aid, Kiyomi-sama. The Kirin told me to find you. I can only assume it thought you could help.”

  “The Kirin spoke to you?” Kiyomi-sama looked taken aback. “In all my years as daimyo,” she murmured, “I have seen the sacred beast only once, and it was from afar. It has never deigned to grace me with its wisdom. But it spoke to you.” I nodded, and her brow furrowed. “One cannot ignore a sign from the kami,” she whispered. “Though I shudder at what this means for the Moon Clan.”

  “Kiyomi-sama,” Reika broke in, her voice carefully deferential, “I know you wish to protect your people. I know the Moon Clan has declared themselves neutral from clan politics and the ways of the empire. And I know that your family has made a vow to live in peace with the kami, to not interfere in the ways of the gods. But if Genno gets his wish and summons the Dragon, the whole empire will be in danger, starting with these very islands. Together, we must stop him before he can call upon the Harbinger. The night of the Wish is almost here.”

  The Moon Clan daimyo was silent for several heartbeats, her expression clouded and far away. Finally, she stirred.

  “I must...think on this,” she announced. “Tonight, I will commune with the kami and seek their wisdom on these matters. I will give you my answer tomorrow, but until this conflict is resolved, please stay at the p
alace as honored guests. The servants will prepare your rooms. Girl...” She turned to me, a shadow of uncertainty, doubt and fear sliding through her eyes, before they hardened with resolve. “Yumeko-san... I would speak with you alone. You are in no danger, but I think there are questions we both need answers to. Please, follow me.”

  I glanced at the others who, aside from the stoic monk behind me, looked as dazed and confused by these revelations as I felt. My emotions seemed frozen, too stunned to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening. But Tatsumi gave me a somber nod as our gazes met, his dark eyes almost sympathetic. We’ll be fine, he was telling me. Go with the daimyo, Yumeko. I smiled at him weakly, then took a deep breath and started after Kiyomi-sama.

  I followed the Tsuki daimyo through the halls of the palace, passing servants, courtiers and samurai, who gave me curious glances while pretending not to see us. The palace was dim and cool, but unlike the dark, labyrinthine halls of the Shadow Clan castle, the Moon Clan Palace was airy and open, with many rooms and hallways offering access to the outside. Tiny gardens with bushes, stones lanterns and patches of bamboo were interspersed throughout the palace, meticulously planted and tended to, small havens of nature surrounded by railings and walkways. Fireflies drifted through the halls, blips of yellow and green in the shadows, floating around the heads of passersby or landing on their clothes. As we passed another miniature garden, I saw a single kodama sitting on a rock beside a goldfish pond. It waved as I passed by, and I smiled back.

  Finally, Tsuki-sama led me down a series of verandas, across an arched bridge over a pond, to a small island in the very center of the water. A gazebo sat surrounded by bamboo, with twisted vines curled around its pillars and a hole in the roof open to the night sky. Delicate chimes dangling from the stalks swayed gently on the wind, filling the air with faint, shivering notes that mingled with the sound of the breeze and the water. All around us, the night was alive with the presence of the kami.