Night of the Dragon

by Julie Kagawa

  And then, a dozen streaks of lightning fell from the clouds, slamming into the ground a few yards away, and the world erupted with light.

  30

  The Wish

  Yumeko

  Weightless. I felt weightless. Was I...floating?

  Slowly, I cracked open my eyes, and let out a yelp.

  A vista of swirling clouds surrounded me. I was floating, hovering in the air with the wind tugging at my hair and tail. Through breaks in the clouds, I could see glimpses of the ocean, and the expanse of the island far below. The scar to Jigoku still throbbed against the darkness, glowing sullenly even as the light of dawn broke over the horizon, ending the night at last.

  I looked around and saw I wasn’t alone. Five glowing balls of light floated around me, and I could feel their presence even though I couldn’t see their true forms. Reika, Chu, Okame, Daisuke and Tatsumi. I knew them all, just by looking at them. The souls of all my friends.

  And then the clouds before me parted, and I was staring into the face and glowing eyes of the Great Dragon.

  The Harbinger of Change hovered before me, huge, terrifying and very much alive. His enormous body disappeared into the roiling clouds, his long whiskers rippled in the wind and the Fushi no Tama glimmered a brilliant white in the center of his forehead. For a moment, I wondered if the God of Tides, enraged at the indignities suffered upon him this night, had brought me here to kill me. To tear the soul from my body and drag it beneath the waves, where it would be trapped forever. I glanced at the rest of the souls around me, pulsing softly in the darkness, and felt a stab of fear, wondering if the Great Kami had brought us here to punish us all.

  “Time grows short.”

  The Dragon’s voice rumbled through the clouds, seeming to come from every direction. I felt it vibrate through me as the Great Kami rose higher into the air, fixing us all with the stare of a god.

  “The night of the Wish has come and gone,” the Dragon continued. “But the summoner is no more. His soul languishes in Jigoku, torn apart by oni and the servants of O-Hakumon. But the Summoning still took place, on the night of the thousandth year, and the prayer was still recited. Mortal fox...”

  His gaze shifted fully to me, and my stomach twisted under that cold, eternal stare. “You returned the Fushi no Tama,” he rumbled. “You willingly gave up the power that would make you a god. The Summoning has passed, but I will give you this choice. Make your wish, kitsune. As you returned the jewel to me, this night, I will grant you the summoner’s power. Speak your wish out loud, and your heart’s desire will come to pass.

  “Or, do not speak it, and I will leave this place unchanged. I will depart the mortal world, and the Wish will be unfulfilled for another thousand years.”

  My heart stood still. The Harbinger was giving me the choice to use the Wish. Use it, or let nothing change. Let the Wish go unfulfilled, or find the words to somehow make everything right. And for a moment, I was suffocated by choice. I could ask for anything I wanted, and there were so many things I wanted to change, but...we had come this far to stop the Dragon’s Prayer from being used. How was I worthy of this, of speaking the Wish that would change the world? Could I even find the words to make the right choice?

  “You can do this, Yumeko,” Reika whispered behind me. “Your heart has always led you down the right path. If anyone can use the Dragon’s Wish for good, it’s you.”

  My stomach twisted, and I closed my eyes, hearing my heart thud in my ears. She was right. I had to do something. This was my one chance to fix things, to change the terrible events the night had brought. I wanted Kiyomi-sama to be alive and safe. I wanted the island to be restored, and the kami to return. And I wanted my friends back. To hear Okame’s laughter, and Reika’s exasperated voice as she lectured us again. To see Daisuke’s smile, Chu’s happiness, and to hear all their voices as they bickered and laughed and loved together. And to spirit Tatsumi away to a tiny grove deep in the forest, where demons and shinobi and the Shadow Clan would never find us, and be with him forever.

  But I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t be selfish. Even though there were so many things I wanted to make right, the Dragon would honor only one single request. I had to find the one decision that would save us all.

  One Wish. One chance to change fate.

  “I... I will use the Wish,” I whispered, and the world seemed to still. The clouds stopped moving, the lightning ceased and everything held its breath, hanging on my next words. I took a deep breath, praying that Master Isao, Master Jiro, Reika and all the mentors who saw me this far would give me wisdom, and spoke what was in my heart.

  “Great Kami, save this world. Close the gates of Jigoku, and send all the demons, spirits and creatures that don’t belong in Ningen-kai back where they belong!”

  The world flickered into motion again. The Harbinger reared up with a howl that tore the storm apart, scattering clouds and sending lightning bolts arcing out to sea. An enormous ripple of power went through the air, like a stone dropped into a pond, and the clouds began to part, showing the sky at last. I looked up and saw we were descending, floating gently toward the valley as the huge form of the Harbinger drew steadily away.

  “Yumeko,” said Reika in a breathless voice, her eyes wide as she stared down. “Look.”

  I looked. We were closer to the valley now, and without the cloud cover, I could see the whole island stretched out before us. The glowing, ominous red scar to Jigoku was still there, but it was shrinking, growing smaller even as I watched. The army of demons and spirits were disappearing, being drawn back into the pit, like water being sucked down a hole.

  Forgotten at my side, Kamigoroshi flared, a pulse that made me jerk up, and Hakaimono’s presence appeared in my mind. I could feel his astonishment, mingled with disbelief and, below all that, the barest sliver of hope. Before I could ask him what was happening, something rose from Kamigoroshi’s sheath, a crimson ball of light, weak and pale against the growing dawn. It hovered in the air a moment, before it flared into the spirit of an oni with ebony skin, a white mane and burning ember horns.

  “Hakaimono,” Tatsumi said behind me, his own voice stunned. I blinked as the demon turned, his gaze falling on the sword, dead and dull at my side. “What is happening?”

  “Kamigoroshi.” Hakaimono paused, as if waiting for something, then shook his head. “I can’t feel the pull any longer,” he muttered. “Does that mean...?” His gaze shifted to mine, hopeful and amazed. “Yumeko, your wish...”

  My heart pounded. I remembered the Wish, and what I had said. Not thinking of Hakaimono, or the phrasing of the Wish, just what I had felt in my heart was the right thing. Send all demons, spirits and creatures that don’t belong in Ningen-kai back to Jigoku where they belong.

  I swallowed. “I guess that meant you, too.”

  Hakaimono closed his eyes, tilting his head back as the breeze rippled around us, continuing to part the clouds. “I’m free,” he almost whispered. “For good, this time. After a thousand years, the curse is broken. I can finally leave this realm and return to Jigoku.”

  My eyes watered. There was so much longing in the oni’s voice, so much hope, relief and genuine happiness. Like waking up from a long, terrible nightmare. I couldn’t forget what he had done, and that he was still the most powerful, dangerous demon to ever walk the mortal realm, but in that moment, I was glad Hakaimono the Destroyer was finally free. His suffering was over at last, and he could go home.

  “What will you do now?” Tatsumi wanted to know. The oni gave him a smug look, as if reading his thoughts.

  “Oh, don’t worry, Kage. I’m not planning a grand return to wreak my vengeance upon your precious clan. Not soon, anyway.” He waved a dismissive claw. “Hanshou is dead. The Dragon is gone. The rest of the empire will finally calm down a bit with the passing of the Harbinger. And I’ve had enough of this realm to last several lifetimes. Besides
...” His mouth curled in a terrifying smirk. “The ruler of Jigoku and I need to have a talk. I think I need to go back and see what O-Hakumon has been planning for this realm without me. Maybe whip the rest of the demons into shape, remind them who their strongest general is. So, don’t worry about me—you’ll all be long dead before I even think of coming back.”

  “Thank you, Hakaimono,” I said, and I really meant it. “For everything.”

  “Yumeko.” The oni gave me a tired smile. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to go home and do my best to forget all about you. I figure a couple centuries of slaughter and depravity should do the trick. If not, well, you’re half-fox. Kitsune can live close to forever, if nothing kills you before then.” The smile grew wider, and he lifted a claw. “Who knows, you just might see me again someday.”

  And with that faintly ominous statement, Hakaimono shimmered into a crimson ball of light and arced away toward the valley. I watched it get smaller and smaller, until it joined the flood of demons and spirits being pulled back into Jigoku and vanished from sight.

  My feet touched rocky ground, as I landed on a familiar circle of flat stone at the very top of the mountain. The bodies of Genno’s blood mages were gone, but the stone altar still held the remains of a shattered skull, and a long, long strip of parchment, weighed down by rocks and fluttering in the breeze. Ignoring the scroll, I stepped to the edge of the Summoning site and peered down into the valley, where the wound to Jigoku was visible far below. And I watched as the final demons and spirits vanished down the pit, the gates closing with a rumbling of stone and earth, shaking the ground until, at last, only a jagged scar remained.

  Then the sickly purple light faded, the roiling clouds disappeared and the first sliver of sunlight broke over the distant horizon.

  “It is done.” The Dragon’s voice was a whisper now, barely audible even in the sudden stillness. Overhead, the skies were clear, and the stars were slowly fading as the sun climbed slowly over the mountains, bathing everything in light. “The Wish of this era has been spoken, and the winds of change have begun. Let no one call upon the power of the Dragon’s Prayer for another thousand years.”

  The presence of the Great Dragon faded away, vanishing with the stars, and the world was normal once again. I stood at the edge a moment, letting the sun warm my face, before I took a deep breath and turned.

  They were all still there—Reika and Chu, Daisuke, Okame, and Kage Tatsumi—their forms translucent in the morning light. And one more, a girl in simple robes with her hair tied back, watching me with a shy, uncertain expression. I blinked in surprise, then smiled at her around the lump in my throat.

  “Suki,” I whispered, and she ducked her head. “Why are you here?” She didn’t reply, but it only took a moment before I knew the answer. “You...brought them, didn’t you?” I asked. “When I was alone on the plane of Jigoku. You led them to me.”

  The yurei nodded once. “You needed them,” she replied softly. “And they already wanted to help. I just...showed them the way.”

  I blinked, as my eyes started to burn. “What will you do now?”

  The yurei raised her head to the distant sunrise. “I no longer feel a tie to this world,” she mused. Turning, she gazed at Daisuke, standing quietly with Okame at his side, a warm, affectionate look crossing her features. “My purpose has been fulfilled. I think I can go now.”

  Daisuke’s spirit stepped forward and bowed. “Thank you, Suki-san,” he told her solemnly. “And safe travels to you. Do not fear what lies ahead—you will not be alone on your journey.”

  She smiled at him, looking peaceful and content. “I used to be afraid,” she murmured. “I’m not anymore. Sayonara, Daisuke-sama. I will always remember you.”

  Her form shimmered, becoming a hazy ball of luminescence that circled us once, then flew unerringly toward the rising sun, and was lost from sight. I watched until I couldn’t see the hitodama any longer, then turned back to the spirits of my friends.

  For a moment, nothing was said between us. We knew what came next, what had to happen, and I wasn’t ready. I would never be ready.

  “Well.” Okame’s gruff voice was first to break the silence. “I guess this is it. And I hate long goodbyes, so...” He gave me that crooked, defiant grin. “Take care of yourself, Yumeko-chan. It was one hell of an adventure, one I wouldn’t change for anything. Just promise me you’ll keep making nobles scream at illusionary rats in their pants.”

  I choked on a laugh, tears nearly blinding me. “I will, Okame.”

  “Yumeko-san.” Daisuke bowed to me, low and formal. “It has been the greatest of honors to know you,” he said as he rose. “I wish you happiness, and may you never lose that light that drew all of us to your side.”

  “Daisuke-san...” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to write a poem for you and Okame. It will be one that the poets sing for all time.”

  He chuckled. “I think we would like that.” Stepping back, he leaned into the ronin, who put an arm around his shoulders. “Sayonara, Yumeko-san,” he murmured, as both he and Okame shimmered, becoming brighter even as they started to fade. The ronin raised his arm in one last salute, before they grew too bright to look at. “We’ll be watching over you, always.”

  “Baka kitsune.” Reika stepped forward, the hulking form of Chu at her back. “Why are you crying? This isn’t the end. Death isn’t goodbye forever.”

  “I know,” I sobbed. “I’m... I’m just going to miss everyone. We came so far together. I wanted us all to be here at the end.”

  Ghostly hands reached out, cool, transparent fingers curling around my own. “We’ll see each other again,” Reika assured me. “Maybe in a different form, under a different name, but in some small way, our souls will always recognize each other. But you have an important task now, Yumeko. The Dragon is gone, but the scroll remains. It won’t become important for another thousand years, but you must decide what to do with it. Whether you decide to split it into pieces once more, hide it away or some other solution I haven’t thought of, its fate is in your hands. What becomes of the Dragon scroll is up to you now.”

  She raised her head, closing her eyes as sunlight washed through her, causing her outline to ripple at the edges. “I have to go,” she whispered, opening her eyes to smile at me. “And I’m sure you want a few moments to say goodbye to Kage-san.” Her hand rose, ghostly fingertips touching my cheek. “You’ve made me proud, kitsune. Remember, you’ll never be alone. No one is ever truly gone.”

  “Arigatou,” I whispered shakily as, for just a moment, the shrine maiden’s image glowed blindingly bright. “Thank you, Reika-san. Everyone. Thank you all so much.”

  The light faded, and both Reika and Chu were gone. For a moment, I stood there, shaking, tears streaming down my cheeks. Then, his presence was behind me, his voice low and soft in my ear.

  “Yumeko.”

  “Tatsumi,” I whispered, my voice shaking with tears. I opened my eyes but could see only my own shadow on the ground before me. “I don’t... I don’t want to say goodbye.”

  Tatsumi hesitated, and then ghostly arms rose to embrace me from behind. I couldn’t feel them; like Reika’s hands, they were insubstantial, only a cool tingle against my skin. But Tatsumi bent close, as close as we could get, his lips brushing my cheek.

  “I’ll find you,” he murmured. “I promise, Yumeko. No matter how long it takes, how far I have to travel, even if it takes me several lifetimes, I’ll keep looking. My appearance might change, my name might be different, but you are the other half of my soul. It won’t stop searching until it’s found you again.”

  “How will I know?” I choked out. “If you look different, how will I know it’s you?”

  “You’ll know,” Tatsumi said. “One day, you’ll look up and I’ll be there. And you’ll know it’s me because our souls will recognize each other
.”

  I turned in his arms, gazing up at him through blurry eyes. He was nearly gone, just the faintest image against the light of dawn. I blinked at him and smiled through the tears.

  “Then I’ll hold you to that, Kage Tatsumi,” I whispered. “Until we meet again.”

  He raised a fading hand and pressed it to my cheek, making my stomach twist even though I couldn’t feel him. “I love you, Yumeko,” he whispered. “On my honor, I will find my way back to you.”

  Lowering his head, he touched his lips to mine, and I closed my eyes.

  Goodbye, Tatsumi. Someday, if we do meet again, I hope to hold you for real. Without clans, emperors and Dragon scrolls coming between us. Someday, when the world has calmed down and this is all behind us, we’ll find our way back to each other. And when we do, I’ll never let you go again.

  When I opened my eyes, I was alone.

  The sun had fully risen over the mountains, and the stars were gone. I stood on a rocky ledge overlooking the valley, the sun on my face and the wind at my back, watching the light slowly creep over the valley below. The long night was over. The Dragon had come and gone, and a new age had begun.

  Sitting on the edge, I lay Kamigoroshi beside me and gazed into the valley, watching as the sunlight drove away the last of the shadows and darkness. I knew I should head back down the mountain, find the armies of Moon and Shadow, if any of them had survived, and tell them what had happened. And I would. The Tsuki deserved to know that their island was safe, the Harbinger had returned to normal and the Wish had been spoken. But right now, I was weary and soul-sick, and loss was a gaping wound across my heart. I needed a little time to mourn, to be alone with the memories of my friends, the human I had loved, so that when I did tell their story, it would be one of triumph and victory. And one I could get through without completely breaking down.

  So I sat there, the sun warm on my head and shoulders, Kamigoroshi dead and lifeless at my side. I thought of chance encounters and first meetings: a stranger cutting down the demons chasing me through a forest; being ambushed by bandits on a lonely road; encountering a masked, beautiful swordsman on a moonlit bridge; meeting a stern, suspicious miko in a tiny shrine. I thought of Daisuke’s kindness, Reika’s pragmatism and Okame’s irreverence. And I remembered how Tatsumi had looked at me, the touch of his fingers on my skin, his whispered promise at the very end. I thought of everything that had brought me here from the moment I’d fled the Silent Winds temple with the scroll—the danger, the friendship and the love—and several times, I found myself smiling through my tears.