Emperor of the Fireflies Page 22

  “I suppose we’d better not continue,” said Lady Miruko meekly.

  Ayaka nodded, so furious at being upbraided in front of her own ladies that she didn’t want to risk saying something about Lady Saisho that she would later regret.

  Who is really empress here at court?

  Chapter 26

  “Kai, Kai, wake up.”

  The deep, insistent voice penetrated the tidewash of dreams in which Kai was drifting.

  “Not yet. Let me sleep a little longer.”

  “You’ve slept long enough.”

  Something suddenly struck Kai a sharp, stinging blow, bringing him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes to see a white-scaled sinuous form snaking past him through the cloudy water, the tip of its tail twitching.

  “Did you just strike me with your tail?”

  The Ebb Dragon turned its whiskered head and said, “Glad to see you’re awake at last, Kai.”

  “How long have I been asleep?” Kai called after him. “A few days?”

  “Days? Weeks.”

  Was Masao joking? “Weeks?”

  “Thank Flood for giving you the time to heal.” Masao was already being pulled away from him.

  “Wait – is all well with my clan?”

  “No. There’s trouble brewing. You need to warn them.”

  “Me?” Kai, still groggy with sleep, was having difficulty thinking straight. “Why not you?”

  “They’ll never listen to me. But you need to tell them the truth about Hotaru and the Tide Jewels.”

  “Why now?”

  “Because Yūgiri has informed me that there’s going to be a new Tide Festival very soon. At the Autumn Moon celebrations. And Lord Kiyomori has forced Hotaru to agree to prove he can summon the Tide Dragons.”

  “Summon us?” Kai was fully awake by now.

  “It’s a chance to put Suzaku back on the throne. . .” Masao’s voice came from further away as the tide pulled them apart. “But be on your guard; this could drive Hotaru to desperate measures.”

  ***

  “Welcome back, Lord Kaito.” Susumu helped Kai into an old hakama and jacket. Kai accepted the clothes without protest, sensing that Susumu desperately wanted to preserve their old master-squire relationship. “Are you all right? I – we – were worried that some misfortune might have –” Susumu faltered.

  “I’m sorry to have abandoned you for so long.” Kai gave his squire’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. But the fervent look of relief and hope gleaming in Susumu’s eyes as he gazed back at him only made him feel even more guilty for abandoning his clan. “Where is his majesty?” he asked, hastily changing the subject.

  “He’s in the kitchen garden.” Susumu set off at a brisk pace. “Follow me.”

  “The kitchen garden?” Kai wondered if he had heard Susumu aright. He remembered his mother saying that Suzaku had been praised for his delicate flower paintings, so perhaps he was cultivating chrysanthemums for the autumn festival.

  “He’s taken a great interest in growing vegetables.”

  “Vegetables?”

  “We’ve all had to work hard; winter’s coming and there’s not much in the larder to feed everyone. Ah – there he is.”

  At first Kai could see no sign of anyone among the rows of bean poles but as he followed Susumu past the neatly dug rows sprouting the green tops of daikon radish and fragrant herbs, he was reminded of the monks’ kitchen garden and a sudden wave of homesickness for the Tide Dragon monastery overwhelmed him.

  Will I ever be able to go back and finish my training with Seishi-sensei?

  Ex-emperor Suzaku rose to his feet and wiped the back of his hand across his glistening forehead, leaving a little smear of dirt.

  “Lord Kaito is here to see you, majesty,” said Susumu, bowing low.

  Kai was about to drop to his knees but Suzaku shook his head, smiling.

  “I’m no longer emperor, I’m just a man like any other now, enjoying a little light gardening. Have you seen my edamame beans? And my leeks? They’re still flourishing in spite of this poor island soil.”

  Kai was so astonished to see the deposed emperor dressed like a peasant and wielding a hoe that he could only nod in mute approval.

  “We were fortunate that the Akatobi clan didn’t dig up all the vegetables and take them to the mainland when they left. Otherwise, I think we could have been in danger of starving,” said Suzaku, leading the way back between the rows of beans. Kai had only ever encountered Suzaku in his finest imperial robes at the yearly Tide Dragon festival and he was surprised to see, close to, how much older and careworn he looked than his younger brother Hotaru.

  There’s little family resemblance, but then they had different mothers; the late emperor married twice. I remember my mother saying that he took two consorts and they were bitterly jealous of each other.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” Kai said. “But not out here. In private.”

  “Shall we go in, then?” Suzaku gestured to the main house. “I believe your mother is holding a tea ceremony today.”

  ***

  Compared to the comforts and security of the stone-built Kurozuro Castle, the Red Kites’ stronghold on Akatobi Island was little more than a series of large pavilions linked by covered passageways to a central meeting hall where the clan gathered to eat. The trees, sea pines and spruce, planted around the main house to give some protection, had been buffeted so ruthlessly by the prevailing harsh wind off the sea that they had all grown to one side. Yet in spite of the brisk breeze, Kai heard the twittering of little birds flying in and out of the twisted branches overhanging the sloping shingle roofs. Perhaps Umeko has been feeding them; she always liked to watch the finches at home. And the memory, more bitter than sweet, made him even more determined that he would find a way to get his family home.

  “Welcome, Lord Kaito.” General Tachibana came out to greet him. “The tea ceremony is to be held in your mother’s room, not the main hall. We can’t be certain that everyone on the island is loyal to our cause.”

  As the general pushed open the sliding door, Kai saw his mother with Takeru at her side and all the tea-making equipment spread out before them on the mats. A kettle was steaming over a charcoal brazier in the corner and Umeko was placing sweets on a lacquer tray. He blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing; his mother appeared to be carrying on with her life just as if they were at home in the main house in the castle, not banished to this windswept and inhospitable island.

  Umeko glanced up and gave Kai a secretive little smile of welcome.

  “I’m surprised you have the audacity to show your face, Kaito.” Princess Asagao stared with undisguised displeasure at Kai. “Look where your disastrous attempt on Prince Hotaru’s life has brought the clan.”

  The idealized domestic vision dissolved. Kai stifled a sigh; he had long ago abandoned any hope of explaining to his mother what had really happened during the Tide Dragon Festival.

  Although it would have solved all our problems if Hotaru had never resurfaced.

  “M-mother,” said Takeru, placing a hand on her shoulder, “he brings news – don’t you, K-Kaito?”

  Kai was aware that he didn’t have time to waste feeling resentful toward his mother for greeting him so coldly. But she hadn’t even noticed that he could now walk without limping – or maybe she had chosen not to pass comment. And that hurt.

  “And what are you wearing? You look like a peasant.”

  “I’m sorry –” began Susumu but at that moment the ex-emperor came in, still in his gardening clothes.

  “Forgive me, Cousin,” he said to the princess with a charmingly apologetic smile, “I’ve washed the dirt from my hands, but I haven’t had time to put on a clean robe.”

  “Will Princess Yasuko be joining us?”

  Suzaku shook his head. “My wife sends her apologies; she has a bad headache.”

  “Shall we begin?” Tachibana said, sliding the door shut.

  Kai drew in a b
reath. “Prince Hotaru cheated at the Tide Festival.”

  “My brother cheated?” Suzaku looked at Kai with a bemused, blank expression.

  “He substituted the genuine Tide Jewels with clever fakes. So when you summoned the Tide Dragons, your majesty, the jewels you were holding were nothing but painted glass.”

  Kai heard his clansmen muttering together at the revelation but plunged on before the questions began, knowing that his brief time on land was too precious to waste.

  “Hotaru is the one who stole the Tide Jewels from the temple – or rather, he was the one who organized the raid, fooling us with onmyōdo into believing that we were being attacked.”

  “No wonder the Tide Dragons wouldn’t answer my summons.” Suzaku seemed to be thinking out loud, a distant, troubled look clouding his eyes. “What a fool I was. He deceived me. I never imagined Hotaru could be capable of such treachery.”

  “Your brother is a powerful onmyōji,” said Kai quietly, feeling sorry for the deposed emperor who sat there looking dejected and rueful. “He deceived us all.”

  “So you have proof, Kaito?” Princess Asagao was staring piercingly at him. “Enough proof to oust Hotaru and reinstate our rightful emperor?”

  Kai bowed his head. Now comes the difficult part. “I’m the proof,” he said, trying to check the bitterness from showing in his voice. “In a short while, the tide will turn and I’ll be dragged back into the sea.”

  “What precisely do you mean? Explain yourself better.” He was doing his best to convince them all – and his mother seemed determined to belittle him in front of everyone. His head jerked up.

  “The Sacrifice seal means that I’m now Flood.” Hadn’t she noticed the unearthly blue of his eyes? “And Lord Masao is Ebb. We have become one with the Tide Dragons.” He heard someone stifle a murmur of protest and saw that Susumu was gazing at him, evidently distressed.

  “But the original Tide Jewels were destroyed on the day of the festival,” Kai went on. “Only the fakes remain.”

  “So when the next Tide Festival arrives,” the ex-emperor said slowly, “my brother will be exposed as a fraud”

  “And the new festival is to be held at the next full moon.” Even as he spoke, Kai felt the first sensation of warning rippling through his mind.

  No – not yet. I haven’t finished telling them.

  “A Tide Festival in autumn?” Suzaku said. “Why change the time of year?”

  “Lord Kiyomori has forced your brother to agree to repeat the ritual summoning at the Autumn Moon Festival. To confirm his right to the Peacock Throne.”

  “‘A harsh wind of discontent is stirring the trees in the forest,’” said Suzaku, “‘and the wings of the cranes will fan the flames from which the phoenix will rise once more.’”

  “Is that from an old song?” Kai had never heard the words before.

  “It’s a coded message, sent to his majesty from Lord Kiyomori.” said the princess. “If we take a stand against Hotaru, we can count on the support of his clan.”

  “But c-can the Kiyomori Clan be trusted?” Takeru asked. “Or is this just a trap laid by Hotaru to give him the excuse to execute us all?”

  “Lord Kiyomori isn’t the most amenable of men,” said Suzaku with a wry little smile, “but his loyalty to Cipangu is unshakable.”

  “Let’s call the new emperor’s bluff,” Tachibana, who had contributed nothing so far, spoke up. “Your brother Hotaru has been forced to agree to attend the Autumn Moon Festival. So he goes to the seashore and tries to summon the Tide Dragons. And he fails. But if we can smuggle your majesty ashore, you can then make an appearance and Lord Kaito will come to your call, followed by Lord Masao. What better way to re-assert your right to the throne?”

  Another rippling surge washed through Kai’s body. Please, he prayed silently to Shiomitsu, just grant me a little longer.

  “But it’s not going to be easy to overthrow your brother. He has some very powerful allies, not least Lord Nagamoto,” went on Tachibana. “Especially now that his daughter Ayaka has become first consort –” He broke off as Princess Asagao glared at him. But Takeru seemed unconcerned by Tachibana’s mention of his one-time fiancée.

  Ayaka. The name stirred a memory, suppressed since the Tide Dragon Festival, of a slender girl weighed down by her dancer’s robes, sinking beneath the waves – and his desperate struggle to drag her back to the surface.

  “Then, with your majesty’s approval, I shall send a coded reply to Lord Kiyomori,” said Tachibana. “But, Kai,” he said less formally, turning to face him, “our plan can only work if you and Lord Masao can lend us your support.”

  “We’ll do whatever we can –” Kai began but the inexorable pull of the tide had become too great to ignore. “I have to go. Excuse me.” He leapt to his feet and began to back toward the door, then breaking into a run.

  “Show some respect to your emperor, Kaito!” the princess cried after him as he fled, followed by Susumu’s voice calling, “Wait, my lord!”

  Coming out into the open, Kai heard a sudden flap of wings overhead and saw a long-tailed white bird rising up from the pine branch that overhung the room in which they had been talking.

  A single feather drifted down as the bird flew away; instinctively, Kai reached up and caught it. Even as his fingers closed around it, he felt a burning sensation as if he had grasped a hot twig from the fire. He opened his hand and saw the feather glow briefly and then crumble to ash.

  “Onmyōdo,” he muttered in disgust. Another violent watery surge swept through him as he tore down the path to the harbor.

  “Susu!” he called back. “We were overheard. Warn Suzaku. Hotaru knows.”

  Chapter 27

  The long-tailed white bird lay unmoving on the floor of Hotaru’s inner room, wings splayed like a feathered cloak as if she had just dropped out of the sky.

  “What’s wrong, Uguisu?” Hotaru knelt beside her and put out one hand to stroke her soft plumage. When she did not immediately launch a sharp peck at him for being so presumptuous, his sense of alarm intensified.

  “I told you not to over-extend yourself.” The harshness of his rebuke disguised his growing concern. He slid gentle fingers beneath the bird’s body and lifted her on to his lap, feeling her spirit heart beating too fast, laboring beneath her frail bones.

  My beautiful White Nightingale. . .

  “If you need to take energy from me, then do so.”

  My first shikigami. . . And my last remaining connection with Mother. Loyal servant and wild spirit.

  “Forgive me.” One golden eye opened. “I. . .never meant to. . .”

  “Hush.” He felt a sharp, fluttering pain in his own chest that echoed the tremulous pattering of her heart. He closed his eyes, hands encompassing her slender body, willing his own life force into her.

  You’re the only one who’s stayed by my side, Uguisu. Don’t abandon me.

  “I feel a little stronger now.” Her voice startled him and he realized that he must have lapsed into semi-consciousness. He reached for the cup of sake that Kobai had poured for him earlier and took a mouthful to sharpen his senses. Then he set it down beside her.

  “Drink, Uguisu. It will help restore you.”

  “Your spies were right,” she said after she had taken a beakful of sake from the cup, her voice still faint. “The Kites and the Mori clan are plotting to expose you. Lord Kaito was there. He told them how you tricked everyone.”

  “Lord Kaito told them – ?” So many questions came crowding into Hotaru’s mind that he didn’t know which one to ask first.

  “There’s no doubt that he’s in thrall to the Tide Dragons. The tide turned and he had to go running back to the sea, poor thing.” There was a malicious glint in her golden eyes. “He saw me – but I saw him too.”

  “So you saw him, Uguisu? And then you exhausted yourself and had to come flying back, your mission only half-complete.” The smoky voice was dry with contempt. “You’re just too old and feebl
e to be of any real use to our master anymore.”

  Hotaru glanced up to see that Kurika had materialized in the far corner of the room. Even in mortal form, his dark-skinned body exuded a faint shimmer of heat.

  “And where have you been?”

  “Oh, here and there. . . Those flimsy wooden shacks on Akatobi Island are dangerously flammable. An unguarded cooking fire, an unexpected gust of wind and the settlement could easily catch alight. Just like what happened at the Tide Dragon Temple.”

  “What are you suggesting, Kurika?” Hotaru gazed at his shikigami, seeing a malicious glint of flame in his black eyes.

  “A catastrophic accident. At low tide. So Flood can do nothing but watch, helpless, as his clansmen try to save your brother and perish in the flames.”

  “You enjoy wreaking havoc that much?” Hotaru felt again that warning thrill that excited and terrified him in equal measure when he was with Kurika.

  “Fire is my nature. Fire is in my blood.” Kurika let out a long exhalation of breath, hot and dry as an arid summer breeze. “What did you expect when you made a pact with a fire kami?”

  “And what’s in it for you, other than the pleasure of seeing them burn?”

  Kurika smiled. “My freedom – and my mountain. Once your brother is gone, who’s left to threaten your right to remain emperor? You won’t need me anymore.”

  “Idiot,” said a faint voice from the birdcage. “Eliminate one threat to the throne and two more spring up, like weeds.” Uguisu was staring scathingly at Kurika. “What do you know of human cunning and ambition?”

  “I know I could serve you up as roast fowl with one breath.” Kurika glowered back at her. “Roast nightingale for dinner.”

  “Let the arrogant fire-child go back to his mountain, Hotaru.” Uguisu closed her eyes. “And then we can enjoy a little peace again. I’m weary of his constant ranting.”

  Sanction my brother’s death? Hotaru had been considering the possible outcomes of Kurika’s suggestion. It was tempting; in one devastating night of fire and confusion, both the rebellious Black Cranes and Suzaku could be obliterated. Which would just leave Lord Kiyomori and his treacherous clan. . .