by Anna Frost
“Moping?” Akakiba repeated.
“I was worried, that’s all. You slept a long time.” Yuki looked aside and swiftly changed the subject. “I wanted to ask: can dragons read minds?”
“I wouldn’t say that exactly. But the human-dragon bond works a little like that, yes.”
“He brought me the knife I used to get free, you know,” Yuki said, evidently talking about his dragon. “I was thinking about that knife they had when they came for you, wishing I was the one who had it, and he went and got me one. Almost the whole time you were gone I was frantically trying to cut the rope around my feet so I could run when they came for me. I wasn’t very good at it, but it didn’t matter because he dribbled acid on the rope to help me. I never said a word, but he understood what I was thinking. Can a baby really do that?”
“That’s interesting.” He searched his memory, but he couldn’t recall hearing much about newborn dragons. Maybe only the great dragons had such intellect. “I’d wager that your dragon didn’t exactly understand what the knife was for, but he could match the image in your mind to an item so he brought it. I’m no expert on dragons, however. I could be wrong.” He lapsed into silence, eyes closed, and waited.
Any moment now Yuki was going to blurt out whatever it was that bothered him. Any moment…
“Do you think I’m a coward?”
“Why would I think that?”
“I left without you. Whatever your plan was, you came back for me. My whole plan was running away to get Jien.”
“It was sensible,” he said approvingly. “If I were a normal person, there was nothing you could have done to free me from the demon.”
Instead of looking reassured, Yuki slumped.
“What’s wrong? You did what I would have expected from you.”
“That’s just it,” Yuki said. Picking up his dragon, he left the room.
Akakiba was left alone and baffled.
When Aito and Jien made it to the clan house, the news spread like fire. Half the clan was already there when Akakiba arrived. There was a stranger standing with the monks, a slim woman who looked like she should have children in tow. She had an air of frailty about her, and her aura was demon-touched—but so lightly it was difficult to ascertain whether she was possessed or not.
The woman’s aura hadn’t gone unnoticed; other clan members slid him and Yuki sideways glances.
Oblivious, Jien introduced the stranger to the crowd. “This is Hana. I rescued her from the cultists. Hana, this is the home of the Fox clan.”
The woman recoiled at the name, betraying herself.
“Yes,” Yuki said in the ensuing silence. “She’s exactly like the others.”
The crowd closed in. The woman tried to flee, but there was nowhere to go.
Jien was trying to wade through the crowd. “Hey! Leave her alone! What’s with you people?”
Akakiba laid a restraining hand on Jien’s arm. “They aren’t cultists. The men and women we saw in the village are possessed by demons, every single one of them. This woman is too.”
Jien opened his mouth, but no words came out for a while. “Aki? How—” He glanced at Yuki, then away from them both. “I thought I had left you to die. Forgive me.”
“What is there to forgive? You did your duty.” First Yuki, now Jien? What was it with everybody acting like he was unable to take care of himself?
“I’m glad you escaped.” Jien’s smile returned as he added, “I thought you were a fox, not an eagle. Have you learned to fly to get here so fast?”
Akakiba explained what had passed after Jien’s escape and their capture while, in the background, much fuss was made over the possessed woman.
Takashi, arriving on the scene, gestured for silence. He looked at Aito. “Explain.”
“We thought we had rescued a woman from the cultists, but there is reason to believe she may be possessed by a demon with a startling grasp of human behavior. Her aura is clearly disturbed though not much more than it might be through regular contact. I gather that the consensus is that the demon is too weak to leave a bigger mark on her.”
Everybody else immediately weighed in with facts, speculations, or their personal opinions. It was fair impossible to understand any of it.
“From now on, it will be best to assume that anyone with a disturbed aura is possessed,” Takashi declared at last. “Take the necessary actions when such a person is spotted. Furthermore, investigate any rumor of anyone gone crazed, even temporarily. Villagers rely on dogs, horses, and dragons to alert them to the presence of a possessed person, but it appears that the weaker demons escape notice.” A man whispered a comment that Takashi must have picked up. “Yes, it is interesting that the human boy seems to read auras more clearly than we do.”
“It’s that great dragon of his,” old Naoko said. “When it bonded with him, it expanded his awareness of the world beyond. The effect is often seen with the small breed, but it doesn’t usually happen so quickly. I expect that the boy’s sensitivity will increase further with time.”
“We shouldn’t delay!” a faceless voice shouted. “Have the monks exorcise her before the demon damages her further!”
Another voice shot back, “We don’t know how long it’s been in there! She might die if it leaves. We need to question it first.”
“I’m sure she was normal when I first saw her,” Jien said. The gathering rippled as everybody turned to him. “She had, how can I say, a feminine way of moving. She lost it afterwards, and I assumed it was because she was distrustful of us. I think that when I slew the men, the demons inside escaped, and one of them slid inside the woman. In her near-unconscious state, she wouldn’t have been able to notice or fight the invasion.”
“She wouldn’t have fought,” the captive woman said. She knelt in the middle of their meeting, legs and arms tied, hair falling in her face.
The clan head turned and locked gazes with her. Her, or it? Had the woman’s mind survived these past days? Was she looking out at them right now, trapped and helpless?
“Explain,” Takashi said.
“This human’s body is sick,” the possessed woman said. Her tone and expression were normal, creepily so. “She was willing to come and share her body with one of us so that her life would not end.”
“What illness plagues her?”
“I don’t know if it has a name. I do know that this body does not function properly and that only my presence keeps it running as well as it does now.”
Takashi’s tone was filled with skepticism. “You pretend you can heal a human’s body?”
“I don’t know how. I can, however, contain damage and keep the body alive.”
Sinking to a crouch, the clan head searched the possessed woman’s eyes, looking for—what? A sign the original owner was in there? “This woman, is she alive within you? Is her mind still present?”
“Her consciousness? Yes.”
“Will you not agree to return her freedom to her?”
“Why? She would die and so would I. Neither of us wishes for that.”
Rising, Takashi turned to an underling. “Take her to Maru. I want to hear his opinion.”
The demon-possessed woman was led away. A formal clan meeting was called, but as there didn’t seem to be anything new to say, Akakiba preferred to leave. Yuki came with him, looking troubled, but didn’t say what was on his mind. Likely it was the same thing that weighed on his own: the picture he was getting from these possessed people wasn’t what he’d expected.
The demon in the older man’s body had showed compassion, had cared enough to fix his shoulder and offer counsel. And here was a demon that claimed to be extending the host woman’s life. Worse, it claimed the woman welcomed its presence.
“Everybody is going to fight, aren’t they?” Yuki said.
“Yes. You should stay behind this time. You would be at a disadvantage among us. You know why.”
“Sanae told me. But they may no longer be there when you arrive. An arm
y is slow.”
“True. They may be gone. They may also remain, preferring to prepare their defenses and wait for us.”
A third voice interrupted. “And whose fault is that?”
Akakiba twitched at the rough, unpleasant voice. He didn’t deign to turn. “You’re still alive, Sora? Pity.”
“You cannot hide this time, young fool,” Sora said. “You have failed an official mission and brought shame upon our clan.”
“Shame crushes me, truly.” Ignoring the old man, he addressed Yuki. “I mean to have a private word with my mother.”
“Of course. I’ll be in the dojo practicing.”
“Have a care for your injury.”
“Sanae was right. You do fuss.” Yuki’s amused expression softened the remark. “Go see your mother. I promise not to hurt myself.”
“Ah! Unless an idiot dies, he won’t be cured!” Sora shuffled off, no doubt angry at his inability to engage their attention.
“Hmm,” Akakiba said, “I agree with that saying.”
He’d seen his father in Takashi’s entourage, but his mother had been absent.
He searched and located her in a secluded area of the gardens, practicing sword forms in a male body—her battle body. She moved slowly and carefully, favoring her weak ankle. Under her sandals were strewn the last cherry blossoms of the season, now rotting to provide nutrients to the earth.
Akahana stilled at his approach. “News?” Her male voice was hard like steel.
“Some.” He recounted the events surrounding Jien’s arrival, ending with, “The demon says the woman wanted to be possessed because it was the only way for her to survive an illness. There’s no telling if this is true. Maru will attempt to investigate.”
“I see.” Akahana returned to her practice, her movements precise and her forms perfect as she slid from one battle stance to another. Steely determination was evident on her face, and Akakiba knew then that nothing would stop her from participating in the battle. He didn’t want his mother to put herself in danger, but he could hardly fail to respect and admire her determination. She’d often called him stubborn and worse during arguments, and it was good to be reminded that he’d inherited it from her.
“Mother,” he said formally. “Sanae is too inexperienced for this fight. I ask you to forbid her to come.”
“Don’t be foolish. She has successfully carried out her first hunt. I cannot forbid her to fight. This,” she added, angling her sword so the sun shone on its polished metal, “will be a family affair.”
“You know what they will say about your ankle.”
“I can fight on horseback. You spoke of riders chasing you. If their dim-witted horses do not fear them, ours certainly will not.”
“True, but there were demons without bodies as well. Those would spook any horse.”
In one lightning fast movement, Akahana brought her sword up in his direction, the tip gleaming inches from his nose. “Think before you speak. We will attack during the day, not at night. Those body-less demons will not dare appear. I will do my part.”
There was a wild look in Akahana’s eyes, a look hungry for battle. It made Akakiba feel guilty. He’d been doing the selfish thing, wandering the world as he pleased, while his mother had been forced to put aside hunting and stay home to play the dutiful wife.
“As you wish,” he conceded. “But Sanae…she has never fought a human being, and she has not been prepared to fight in a war. She will be vulnerable, easy to overwhelm.”
“We will all be,” Akahana said. “When have you last been on a battlefield? When have I? It will be as new to us as it is to her. Our clan rarely takes part in such battles these days. We know only small-scale fighting, one or two hunters against a single demon. Nonetheless, no matter our limitations, we will fight.”
Akakiba folded before his mother’s stubbornness. He knew all too well that attempting to change her mind would prove an exercise in futility. Usually, their roles were reversed. “As you say.”
His sister was inexperienced, his mother was crippled, and his father couldn’t shift human. What a team they would make!
He pulled out his own sword and joined his mother. If they were to be in a battle together, it couldn’t hurt to practice side by side.
Chapter Fourteen
Jien
JIEN COULDN’T FIND old Tadashi, the monk with whom he had first arrived. He hadn’t been among those who welcomed them on their return from the mission, and that was strange.
As Jien headed toward the older monk’s assigned room via the veranda, hoping he wouldn’t find the old man taking a nap or some such embarrassing thing, he heard footsteps catching up and passing him. It was Aito.
“Do you also wonder why Tadashi didn’t greet us?” he said, picking up the pace to match Aito’s. Their feet thudded rhythmically on the wood.
“I’m told a pair of young monks arrived earlier and asked to meet with Tadashi. They must still be in conversation.”
“You sound displeased.”
“I have suspicions.” Aito was strange but reliable. During their trip back from the scouting mission, he had insisted that they take turns keeping watch at night, which, now that Jien thought about it, was likely the sole reason the demon-possessed woman hadn’t slit their throats and slipped away.
When they reached the old monk’s room, Jien called through the thin door. “Master Tadashi? Are you there?” No sound came from within. “Maybe he’s napping…”
Aito, his brows drawn down in a grim expression, threw open the sliding door.
A futon was laid out, and Tadashi lay seemingly asleep. Seemingly, for the smell of blood told a different story. Jien cursed and stepped inside, keeping an eye out for possible traps.
He knelt to confirm what he’d already guessed: the old man’s throat had been slit, his life long extinguished. The futon hid blood-soaked tatami. A murder hastily camouflaged.
Bowing his head, he murmured a prayer, then quickly rose, for there was no time to waste. “Those two monks were disguised shinobi, weren’t they?”
“No doubt about it,” Aito agreed. “I suspected as much when I couldn’t recognize their names. Those fool foxes should never have allowed them to meet alone.”
Jien gripped his spear, glad to have brought it with him instead of leaving it in a weapon rack, and looked up and down the veranda. He didn’t forget to check the roof, having heard quite a bit about shinobi tricks.
After closing the door, they walked away to find the nearest fox. They had to give the alert, preferably without bringing the shinobi down on their heads.
Jien hoped neither of the assassins had seen them enter Tadashi’s room. Else he was likely to die from a poison dart to the back. That was the problem with shinobi: they were cowardly backstabbers. They hid in darkness or under disguises, sneaked everywhere, and struck when no one was paying attention. The foxes, abuzz with the news about the so-called demon cult and expecting more sohei to arrive, would have been easy to fool. Old Tadashi, however, would have quickly realized the truth—hence his quick death.
Without consulting each other, they altered their course to make a beeline toward the first fox they saw in the garden. Its color-muted, ragged fur spoke of great age, and it sat near the koi pond in a contemplative pose.
Jien fervently hoped that the assassins had not realized the true nature of the foxes that wandered freely in the clan house. Best to pretend the enemy remained ignorant of the truth…He knelt by the pond and reached for the sealed pot that held food for the fish, trusting Aito to watch his back.
“Friend fox,” he said as he cast food into the pond, keeping his eyes fixed on the multicolored fish. “We have a problem. Two shinobi disguised as sohei have infiltrated the clan house and murdered Tadashi. They could be anywhere now.”
“What, again? Those human fools never learn. When I get my paws on the idiot guards who let them in…” The fox twitched its ears. “I do not hear anyone near. Everybody is in the meeting ro
om at the moment, I believe.”
“Yes. Will you warn them while we attempt to track down the shinobi? They don’t know we’re aware of them. We may be able to take them by surprise.”
“These old bones should be able to do that much. Be good boys and capture those rude intruders, eh?”
The fox got to its feet with evident difficulty and limped away. The sight filled Jien with remorse. They should have found a different fox to bother. He’d never learned to tell foxes apart from their mind voices, but he could guess at mood and gender, and this fox sounded cranky and female.
“Come,” Aito said, turning to follow the garden path.
If only the Fox clan didn’t have such a terribly huge clan house! These days it was so lightly populated that it could be difficult to find a group of foxes outside of the usual gathering places. He kept his head level, moving his eyes unceasingly and vigilantly, but noticed no living creature other than a pair of bickering birds.
“We’re wasting time,” he said. “They might be assassinating the clan head at this very moment.”
“The man should be safely surrounded in the meeting room,” Aito said. He sounded strangely distracted. “The shinobi will have no chance to strike. We’ll get the guards at the front gate to help us seek them out.” He stopped suddenly, gasping, as if witnessing something horrible.
“What is it?”
Aito sprung forward at a dead run. “Hurry!”
Jien sprung after his colleague, puzzlement lasting until they reached the front gate. There, they found guards lying in their own blood, dead or dying, while two men with shaved heads and monk clothes were trying to push the thick wooden doors open.
The morons couldn’t have known, but the doors were made to be opened by a pair of men with a fox’s strength. For mere humans, it was hard-going; the doors were mere inches apart at the moment. It was enough to glimpse the several dozen men waiting outside, all of them armed. Some came forward to grab the edge of the doors and help pull them open.
Aito cursed, his cool gone. “Get help!”
Leaving the two fake monks to his colleague, Jien sprinted toward the nearest building, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Shinobi attack! Defend the front gate! Shinobi on the move! Defend the front gate!”