“Why did she not burn?” Kita asked. “The demon engulfed her in flames.”
“The pit demon’s flame,” Kenjiro answered. “They can control how it affects this world. The fire that burns her is inside, not outside.” He looked down at his unconscious sister as he spoke. “If the pit demon was not already weakened, it might have killed her. The only thing that prevented the flames from consuming her completely was quick thinking on her part. Her sword absorbed some of the energy from that thing, but whether it was enough to save her …” He trailed off, holding a hand to her forehead.
“Is there something we can do?” Kita asked.
“I know of some herbs that may help, but I don’t know how effective it will be against this. Watch her,” Kenjiro bade them. “I will return shortly.” Kita rested a hand on the samurai’s shoulder and nodded. Leaving his younger sister in the care of the other three warriors, Kenjiro left in search of the proper herbs.
When he returned, the others had laid her under a tree in the shade and placed a cool, wet washcloth on her head.
“She’s burning up,” Kita said. Shinobu looked up at Kenjiro, who sat and riffled through a sack of supplies. Kenyatta neither looked up nor said a word. A cloud of grief had settled over him and he could lift his gaze no higher from the ground than to Akemi.
“I would rather her anger than her death,” he said solemnly.
“We want neither,” Kenjiro replied, and there was a hint of comfort in his tone.
“We must move her from this shade into the sun for a while,” he said at length. The others looked at him, incredulous.
“She singes to the touch and it is a hot day,” Shinobu said. “Why bring her into the heat when she has too much already?”
“A different kind of heat,” the samurai answered, never taking his eyes from his sister. “The sun heals and replenishes, and its rays will help burn the taint from her.”
Kenjiro carefully lifted Akemi and moved her out of the shade. Her skin had turned red as if she were sunburned. He started a campfire, then boiled some water and crushed some leaves in it, then added the herbs he had found not far away.
“What is all of this?” Kita asked.
“I am making a solution made from kokoya leaves and some other herbs that I have. She must drink some of it, then we let the rest sit until it forms into a balm, and we will apply it externally.”
Kita watched as Kenjiro worked on the remedy. Although he appeared confident, Kita could see that the man was worried. The lines in his forehead ran deep, and he never lifted his gaze from his sister except to attend to the medicine. His hands moved quickly and carefully and he always laid his hand on her head. Kita looked over his shoulder at his friend. Kenyatta had climbed a nearby hill by himself and had been there for a while. He hoped for Akemi’s sake and for his friend’s, that she would recover. Kenyatta would never forgive himself regardless of what the ninja wanted.
* * *
Kenyatta stared absently down the hill. It was not very high, but he could see for miles. He knelt and picked up a rock and let fly.
“You can’t blame yourself.” The strider’s voice was gentle, almost comforting. Shinobu moved beside him and picked up a rock and hurled it into the distance. “It was her fight and hers alone. If you had interfered she would have been furious.”
“And alive,” Kenyatta added.
“She’s not dead yet, my friend. You have fought beside such warriors before, and you know the reality of battle. Every time we unsheathe our swords, we expect nothing, but are prepared for anything. I would rather die defending rather than being defended.”
Kenyatta slid a few stray locks from over his forehead and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and feeling the sun warm his face. “You interfered in the fight, did you not?”
Shinobu looked at him evenly. “That was to save her from her sword, not her adversary.” At Kenyatta’s questioning look, he explained. “I have sensed a power about that sword since first I met them, and it is a wild power. She has a measure of control over it, but she hasn’t mastered it as she believes. If I had not done what I had, the power influx would have overwhelmed her.”
Shinobu placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Whatever the outcome, we must face the future together without regret, else we might join her, supposing she does not recover. The sick are sometimes aware of those around them, so stay strong even if only for her benefit. She can likely sense our feelings and it will help her to feel our strength.”
With a final pat on the shoulder, the strider left to join the others. Kenyatta continued gazing out at the open planes, but his sight was inward. The strider’s words were true, but it did little to lessen the burden of guilt that he carried.
“How is she,” Shinobu asked once he had joined the others.
“Her temperature is no longer rising,” Kita answered. “Now is the time to hope that it lessens.”
Shinobu looked at the sleeping woman. Even in her fragile state, she was beautiful. A dangerous beauty, the strider thought. Yes, even though the ninja seemed to be resting more peacefully now, she still looked deadly, as if she could spring to life at any moment, her wild sword firmly gripped in her hand.
“The balm is almost ready,” Kenjiro stated.
After a few more moments, the samurai removed the small pot from the fire and waited for it to cool. The shadows of the plants and trees were beginning to lean toward the east as dusk approached, and with it, came the gentle caress of the evening breeze. The grass and trees and surrounding hills glowed under the brightness of the orange sky as the sun made its final descent to the western horizon.
Kenjiro began gently applying the balm to his sister’s face, then moved on to her arms.
“How much of this must you apply?” Kita asked.
“All except that which she must drink, “Kenjiro answered with a strained voice. “It must be applied over every inch of her body.”
Both their faces coloring, Kita and Shinobu shared a look, then stood.
“We should keep watch for any danger,” Shinobu said stiffly. “We’ll go collect some firewood. If you need help with anything, call for us.” Without looking up, the samurai nodded and continued to apply the ointment.
“Do you think our mission is done?” Shinobu asked as they walked.
“Hardly,” Kita replied. “There is a lot more to this, trust me. Stay on guard and expect anything.” Their arms laden with dry branches and twigs, Shinobu glanced back toward the camp at the shadowy figure of Kenjiro redressing his sister.
“I think we can go back now,” he said.
“Give him a few minutes or until he calls us,” Kita responded.
Shinobu nodded and they placed their burdens in piles and walked a bit further from camp.
“How’s Kenyatta?” Kita asked.
“Feeling totally responsible and extremely guilty,” came the response. “I feel that there is more to your friend’s guilt than just this recent occurrence.”
“There is, but that’s his story to tell,” Kita answered. “If he tells it.” Night had fallen when they returned, and to everyone’s relief, Akemi’s temperature had lessened considerably. The color had also begun to return to her skin, as she slept peacefully in front of the campfire.
“I was able to suppress the effects for now, but in time the demon fire will spark again with more strength.” The worried look on the samurai’s face was worrying. “There is nothing else I can do to help her now.”
“What then?” Kita asked. Kenyatta had returned to the camp while they were gone, and listened while he prepared the meal.
“We must get her to the tower,” Kenjiro said, a glimmer of hope entering his eyes for the first time since the battle. “If we can get her there in time, perhaps they can help.”
“How far are we from there?” Kita asked.
“Don’t know,” the samurai answered. There was a long stretch of silence as everyone considered the next course.
“I need to think,” Kenjiro said, standing. He looked over Akemi once more, then disappeared into the night.
* * *
Akemi stirred to the sound of soft conversation. They had wrapped her in a blanket and laid her a bit away from the fire. She opened her eyes and rolled to face the voices. She felt tired, as if she had won some internal battle, but her foe lay in wait for her to weaken.
“Brother,” she whispered. She barely heard her own words, but as soon as she’d spoken them, Kenjiro was at her side.
“I was wondering when you would decide to join us again,” he teased.
Akemi smiled. For her brother to attempt a joke meant he was more than a little concerned. “I needed a rest,” she responded with a weak smile.
Without a word, Kenjiro stood and left, then returned a moment later with a bit of meat and some rice. “Eat. I mixed some of the medicine in this before its composition changed into the balm.”
Akemi took the wooden bowl. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that first bite, and she devoured the contents quickly. She could feel her strength seeping back into her body.
“Careful you don’t bite off a finger, little sister,” Kenjiro teased, frowning.
“Not bad,” she said, surprised that her brother knew how to cook anything.
“I did not prepare it,” he said with a chuckle.
Akemi shrugged and continued to eat. In mid-bite, she stopped and regarded him. “Balm,” she asked, her voice going flat as comprehension dawned. Kenjiro nodded, his face coloring. “You used the kokoya herbal remedy?” Akemi asked, feeling heat rising in her cheeks. “Where did you find the leaves? You brought none.”
“Luckily I found some not far from here,” he answered.
Akemi took another bite, not wanting to ask the next question. “And when and where exactly did you apply the whole body remedy, brother?”
Kenjiro stared at the ground as if the answer would sprout from the ground like the plant he’d used. “They left while I applied it, you need not worry.”
Her cheeks coloring brightly, Akemi opened and looked down her blanket. Sighing in relief that she was clothed, she stood and removed it.
“Where are you going?” Kenjiro asked. “You need rest.”
“I will. But I see our group numbers four, and I wish to find the one who is missing.”
She found Kenyatta at the top of a hill overlooking the planes below, oblivious to the brisk night air. “Your concern is touching,” she said.
“We need the extra person to keep watch for the night,” the islander responded a bit too casually. Akemi smiled and moved beside him, hooking her arm in his.
“You think about the past and let it torment you in the present.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“A bit of advice,” she said, ignoring the question. “Learn from the past, but don’t live in it. Misplaced grief and guilt are more dangerous than ten pit demons.”
She turned him to face her, and Kenyatta saw fire in her eyes. Whatever the injuries to her body, her spirit was strong. She wrapped him a long hug and then gave him a playful punch in the chest that made him stumble backward in surprise.
“If you had interfered in my fight, Sekimaru would have found your chest instead of my fist.” With a smile, she leaned in and gave him a long peck on the cheek, then returned to the campsite.
Kenyatta stared after her in disbelief. Finally, with a shake of his head, he followed. Of the many warriors he and Kita had fought alongside and against, none were more unusual. Never had he met a woman with such girlish charm, yet seductive maturity. Even after a flirt with death and an uncertain future, she was able to joke and smile. Determination flared in him, and he found himself smiling. Nothing will stop us from getting her to the tower in time, he thought. Even if I have to carry her halfway across the world myself.
***
Chapter Thirty-One
The fight was endless, the enemy unstoppable. She looked to her right and saw Kenjiro struggling to hold a pit demon at bay as it forced him to his knees. She looked to her left and saw Kenyatta facing another. There was no smile on his face, no joking or taunting remarks. His face was grim and cold with resolution. His movements empty and meaningless, only serving to half-heartedly turn aside his adversary’s attacks. The fire and vigilance in his eyes had given way to hopelessness.
Behind her Kita was in the grip of another pit demon while it held Shinobu in its other hand. Both screamed in fear and agony. The fiend threw its head back and roared, basking in their torment.
She tried to scream, but no sound came. She ran to help but no matter how fast she moved her legs, she came no closer. She heard Kenjiro scream, a sound she had never heard from her brother, and then all was black.
She sat up in a cold sweat, her palms and forehead dripping. For a while she just sat, looking around. The rolling hills of the once grassy landscape now lay torn and withered. The tall proud trees and bright green and blue grass now lay twisted and charred, black with soot and ash. She felt the ground vibrating beneath her and she heard a distant rumbling. She stood and looked in the direction of the sound. Coming toward her was an endless stampede of animals.
Animals not native to the region, from bison to tigers and horses, predators and prey, all running together. The ninja had never seen anything of the sort and it was unsettling. What could make these animals flee together?
Once the stampede had passed, she saw other creatures approaching. They blazed a trail of destruction, twisting and burning, slashing and ripping everything in their path. It was an endless mass of demons varying in size and appearance. Everything they touched, every piece of land underfoot was consumed in death and darkness.
In seconds, the army of fiends was upon her. She reached for Sekimaru but the sword was not to be found, nor were any of her other weapons. There she stood, weaponless and without any resources to stop the dark incursion. Not that she could do much by herself.
With resolution, she stood tall and straight, her legs and palms together. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the power within. Her body began to glow, and soon she would be consumed in a powerful blaze of light, but the twisted monsters would die with her.
The harder she searched for the light within, the more it escaped her. She fell to her knees and opened her eyes, looking at her palms. Her mind and inner light had failed.
“You cannot destroy us, useless animal,” a frightening voice said to her. She looked up to face a rather small fiend. It was no larger than she was, but the malevolence that it exuded was overwhelming. She sat on her knees, paralyzed by fear.
“Because of your failure, your friends and brother have fallen, one by one. We allowed each to watch the other die to the last, and now they continue their existence forever in torment.”
“Liar!” Akemi shouted.
The fiend laughed at her. “What do you know, hairless monkey? Your little mission was over before it started. Your hopeless fight is ended, and you will watch us destroy the tower, and with it, every shred of hope to live in the world of light again.”
The demon laughed at her. “Once the Drek was destroyed, the gate between our two worlds was forever opened and now we will rule this plane. Our mighty leader comes, and all that you know will perish. And you, will continue your infinite destruction and reconstruction. You have not known agony, primate, but you will.”
The creature laughed again, a horrid, triumphant laugh, then walked on. Every one of the foul creatures in her path walked by her as if she was not there, and there was nothing she could do but watch. Again her mind was bombarded with tormenting words.
“Your brother squirmed and screamed most of all.” Akemi held her head and struggled against the suggestions. “I was the one to destroy him, and at the end of his pitiful life, he begged me to allow him to cease to exist, but in reward for his cowardice, I made him my personal property. Soon I will give him to the master.”
Akemi spun to face a nightmare d
emon standing behind her. It was tall and black as night with haunting yellow eyes. Although it had no mouth, it projected laughter at her. Then, it suddenly reached out and grabbed her shoulder and shook her violently.
“Akemi!” it shouted at her, laughing. She fought to break its grip, but it was like trying to pry iron from her shoulder. “Akemi!” It screamed again, but this time, it was not laughing; it almost sounded concerned. “AKEMI!”
She awoke and jerked away from the hand that was attached not to a nightmare demon, but her brother. She scanned the area, her eyes rolling around in her head. The others were crouched around her, and Kenyatta stood a bit in the distance, his turn at watch. The dark of night had begun to fade, and the coming of dawn was not far away.
“You were having a bad dream,” Kenjiro said.
“No dream,” she responded while gazing into nowhere. “That was too real to be a dream.” Akemi sat up on her elbows and drew her knees in against her chest. “I think they’ve entered my subconscious. It felt very real, and some of the things they said were obviously untrue, yet I almost believed them. I think there was a bit of the future in the dream though, or maybe a possible future. Perhaps they gave me a bit more information than they intended.”
She closed her eyes for a few heartbeats, then opened them and sighed. “You aren’t going to like this. We have been misled. When one of those things was telepathically taunting me, I caught a glimpse of their plans. That group we destroyed yesterday was not moving in the direction of Takashaniel. They were moving in the opposite direction. Our enemy has effectively distracted us and moved us farther away from our objective.”
Seeing the others crouched around her, Kenyatta had returned to camp. “Has the attack begun already?”
“Not yet, but it will before we can get there.” Akemi afforded them all a hopeful look. “There is still time.”
“And how do we get to this Takashel?” Shinobu asked. “Were you not given mental directions to the horde, but not the tower? And who is this Eel you speak of?”
Echoes of a Shattered Age Page 25