The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Page 27

  Demon-masked. Like the shadow warriors who appeared at the monastery gates the night Lord Naoki broke into the shrine? Were they also the conjuration of a powerful onmyōji, summoned to create a distraction?

  “Was there any kind of sacred treasure – or secret scripture – kept at Inari’s shrine?”

  Her head jerked up. “Why do you want to know?”

  Her reaction was more defensive than he had anticipated. “I only want to be sure that we haven’t been misled.”

  “Are you saying it wasn’t the Kites?”

  “Just suppose,” he began carefully, “that someone wanted to stir up trouble between the Cranes and the Kites.”

  “But…why?”

  “Jealousy? Revenge?” Kai could think of many reasons, but none of them felt right. There’s a piece of the puzzle missing here. If only I had a clue.

  “But I saw… I was sure I saw shinobi flying like birds. My mother was a miko at Inari’s shrine when she was my age. She never spoke of it to us, but she used to tell us stories. I thought they were just legends. But maybe…”

  “Stories about the shrine?” Kai set down his tea bowl, intrigued.

  “About the kami, Kurika. He lived deep inside the mountain and often took the form of a fire dragon. When he was angered, his rage would heat the living earth until it burst out in liquid fire and destroyed all the crops and living creatures that Inari had vowed to protect.”

  “A volcano?”

  “Long ago, yes. The hot springs were named after him. But in the story my mother told, Inari fought Kurika and pierced him with a sacred sword, pinning him deep beneath the mountain so that he wouldn’t be able to send his fire to destroy us or our crops any longer. And that’s why the villagers built the shrine to Inari over Kurika’s prison.”

  “A fire kami, imprisoned in Mount Sakuranbo.” It was not a legend Kai remembered hearing before, even at the monastery. “Why was his presence kept secret?”

  “So that no one would try to set him free, I suppose.”

  “If only I could ask Abbot Genko about this…”

  “But it still doesn’t explain why the Kites destroyed my village.”

  “Or why someone wanted us to think it was the Kites.”

  Sakami was silent a while, staring at her folded hands. “Fireflies,” she said distantly. “I thought they were fireflies. I said to Shun, ‘Look how beautiful they are!’ But they were fire sparks rising from the burning buildings.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.

  Kai had leaned across and put his hand on hers before he even realized he had done it. “I’m sorry, Sakami. Forgive me.” The last thing he had intended was to make her cry.

  “No, Kai, you’re right,” she said, sniffing back her tears. “It’s time we uncovered the truth. If the Kites were blamed – and it was someone else – then that’s a wrong that should be put right as soon as possible.”

  The sound of men’s voices in the garden startled them. Kai hastily removed his hand from Sakami’s as Takeru appeared at the far end of the winding gravel path, supported by Isamu and Susumu.

  Sakami leapt up. Her face was flushed. “Excuse me, my lord.” Piling the bowls and teapot onto the tray, she retreated toward the door. Just before she vanished she said, “I’ve just thought of someone who may know more about Kurika.”

  I must be more careful. Kai stared at the hand he had placed on Sakami’s; he could still feel the warmth of her fingers. If anyone saw us together, her reputation would be ruined. And my mother would be quick to punish her, rather than me.

  Takeru was still laboriously making his way back toward the open door. Kai, who had also had to learn to walk again, felt a pang of sympathy for his brother. At five, it was not such a big deal, but at twenty-one it must be deeply humiliating to have to re-learn every basic physical skill.

  “Brother!” He hailed Takeru. “You’re doing really well.”

  Isamu was sweating and his younger brother was panting with the effort.

  “Kaito?” Takeru squinted at him through the strong sunshine. “Why – is it so hard?” His speech was still slurred but there was a noticeable improvement. Kai laid his hand on his shoulder and squeezed encouragingly.

  “Each time you try, it’ll get a little easier. I promise.”

  It’s too soon to dare to hope for more.

  Chapter 28

  ‘Masao – help me!’

  Naoki is calling for him, his voice taut with fear. But as Masao desperately searches the glade for his young lord, clouds of sea fog come drifting in, blotting out the daylight, until he is running blind, unable to see where he is going.

  And then a white kunai streaks toward him out of the fog, aimed directly at his forehead, right between the eyes. No time to dodge. The kunai stops him in his tracks, piercing straight through skin, flesh and skull bone deep into his brain.

  I’m going to die.

  But it’s not over yet. There are characters on the kunai, intricately scribed in blood; they start to scuttle down the white blade, tiny word-insects entering his mind, nibbling away at his consciousness –

  Masao woke with a jolt to see Yūgiri kneeling beside him.

  “You were dreaming again, weren’t you?”

  Masao nodded, his heart still pounding; his hair was damp with sweat.

  “You’ve been asleep all day. I had them bring you to the healers’ tent.”

  “How is Saburo?” The incessant scuttling continued, setting his nerves on edge.

  “Still unconscious. I’ve done what little I can; Manabu’s watching over him.”

  Yūgiri leaned forward and placed both hands on Masao’s forehead, closing his eyes as if listening intently. His cool touch calmed the chaotic dream images still flashing through Masao’s mind, but as the shaman removed his hands, the turbulence started up again.

  “That onmyōdō seal is acting like a malignant canker in your mind, slowly eating away at your sanity.”

  “It’s driving me mad?”

  “The onmyōji who placed this mind-spell on you obviously didn’t care what became of you afterwards, or he would have lifted it. His sole aim was to destroy your memories of your meeting with him. ”

  Masao reached out and gripped Yūgiri by the wrist. “Yū, I’ve got to know what it is I’m not supposed to remember. It could be something to do with Naoki. It could be vital.”

  “I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. I could damage you.” Yūgiri did not meet his eyes.

  “It’s a risk I have to take. You just said that the mind-spell is eating away my sanity. Like a worm-eaten tooth, surely it’s better out than in?” Masao added, affecting an air of nonchalance that he didn’t entirely feel.

  “This mountain is sacred to Lady Inari. Maybe her influence will help shield us both.” Yūgiri rose and closed the tent flap. “Just to make sure, I’m going to place protective wards – kekkai – around the tent to keep any unwanted presences out.”

  Suddenly Masao felt a tightness constricting his throat. “Is it so dangerous, then?”

  “We’ll soon find out,” Yūgiri said with a strange little smile.

  As Masao watched, the shaman went around the tent, lighting incense cones at every corner and murmuring words of protection over them. Soon slender wisps of blue smoke began to waft slowly upward and the aromatic scent of sandalwood and sweet aloes filled the air.

  Yūgiri returned to kneel at Masao’s side. “Ready?”

  Masao nodded.

  “Lie back, then. Try to empty your mind. You need to relax.”

  “Relax?” Masao couldn’t hold back the ironic laugh that escaped his lips.

  “Close your eyes.” Yūgiri’s cool fingers rested lightly on his forehead again. “Now let your thoughts focus on the dream.” The shaman’s voice, gentle and reassuring, began to lull Masao into a trance. “Tell me where you are, Masao.”

  “In the glade…where the fern pines grow. Above the western harbor.”

  “Are you alone?”
>
  “Lord Naoki is with me…”

  “Just Lord Naoki?”

  “It’s foggy. Difficult to see.” The troubling sensations began to stir again. The fog clouding Masao’s mind was darkening from sea-grey to choking black, like smoke, and suddenly he didn’t want to find out what it concealed.

  “I know it’s hard, Masao, but don’t give up. You’re doing well.” Yūgiri’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Look around you.”

  An indistinct figure had appeared beyond the billowing fog. An assassin? All Masao’s protective instincts awoke at once; he yelled out a warning but the fog seemed to have seeped into his open mouth and throat, stifling his voice. He strained to make himself heard as he watched the shadowy figure move stealthily toward Naoki, but he could neither move nor make a sound.

  And then the white kunai came streaking toward him out of the darkness. He felt the tip of its white blade pierce his forehead –

  “It’s all right, Masao. It’s only a memory.” A soothing voice washed through his agitated mind like cooling summer rain. “Tell me what just happened.”

  “A – white blade. Here.” Masao found he could lift his right hand to point to his forehead. “With characters inked on it.”

  “I see.” Yūgiri was silent a moment, and then he said, “I’m going to draw the blade out. Are you ready?”

  Masao swallowed; fear had tightened around his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Do it,” he said, steeling himself. He felt the pressure of Yūgiri’s fingertips intensifying – and then an extraordinary sensation as if a sliver of burning ice was being slowly drawn out from deep within his brain. The hideous feeling set his stomach crawling and he clenched both fists tight, digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from crying out.

  And then he heard Yūgiri let out a sigh and the sensation ceased abruptly. At the same moment the fog in his mind melted away.

  “There was someone else there! A stranger – in a wide-brimmed hat. But I still can’t remember what he said to Lord Naoki.”

  “That’s because,” Yūgiri said slowly, “the sealing spell is still lodged in your mind.”

  Masao heard the weariness in the shaman’s voice and opened one eye to peer anxiously at him. “Are you all right, Yū?”

  “I’m not giving up now. Close your eyes.” Yūgiri’s tone was so authoritative that Masao instantly did as he was told. Yūgiri began to murmur words that sounded more like the gentle drone of summer bees. Little bees that hovered over his head, the brush of their silver wings fanning his face with a soft, honey-scented breeze…

  “Stay as still as you can. Don’t move.”

  Then the crawling sensation started up again. One by one, the tiny black characters that had clustered together like a festering canker in his mind came slowly oozing out until he felt as if his face must be covered in a foul, drooling, oleaginous slime. He wanted to claw at his skin, to wipe the foulness away before it corrupted his body… but just as his hand lifted, moving without his volition, Yūgiri gripped it tightly in his own. “No. Not yet.”

  Masao wanted to cry out that he couldn’t stand it any longer but Yūgiri’s grip was curiously reassuring. The last of the characters of the sealing spell came slithering out of his brain and the silver bees clustered over them, the fast beating of their filmy wings dispersing them into tiny, harmless particles like fine black dust.

  The feeling of clarity and release was intoxicating. Masao let out a slow sigh and opened his eyes, half expecting to find the silvered cloud still hovering above him. But all he could see was Yūgiri’s face, his ivory eyes dulled with exhaustion.

  “Yū?”

  “Did it work?” Yūgiri’s voice was low, tense. “Do you remember who did this to you?”

  Masao closed his eyes again, concentrating. He saw the stranger approaching Naoki, heard his own voice shouting out a challenge as he drew his sword. The down-slashing blade caught a glint of sunlight as it sliced through the stranger’s hat, revealing his face. Behind him, Lord Naoki dropped to his knees, bowing low.

  “Prince Hotaru,” Masao said in a dry whisper. He looked down and saw that Yūgiri’s hand was still wrapped around his own.

  “Go on.” The pressure of Yūgiri’s fingers grew tighter.

  “He said that Cipangu was in great danger. He said…that he had foreseen in his divinations that a terrible disaster would strike the country if his brother Suzaku was allowed to continue his lax rule as emperor. He told Lord Naoki to take the jewels from the monastery before the festival took place – but that he must tell no one why, not even Lord Toshiro.” Masao looked up, seeing his own unease mirrored in the shaman’s eyes.

  “So Lord Naoki was acting on the prince’s orders?”

  Naoki is in league with Prince Hotaru. Masao had hoped that unlocking his memory would bring answers. But this was far more ominous than he could ever have imagined. This sounds like treason.

  “He must have laid a spell on him too,” he said staunchly. There was no way that Naoki would betray the emperor.

  “The prince must be a formidable onmyōji to have laid that sealing spell on you.” Yūgiri slowly untwined his fingers from Masao’s. “We may have made a powerful enemy.”

  “But you placed wards around the tent. How could he – ”

  “Think about it, Masao.” Yūgiri’s voice was barely audible, so that Masao had to lean in so close that their heads nearly touched. “He must have had a plan. Lord Naoki was a part of that plan – but since the Black Cranes imprisoned him, he’s been unable to carry it out.”

  “Could an onmyōji trace us this far?” Masao glanced up, suddenly wary, wondering if even now the prince was watching them.

  Yūgiri gave a brief shrug.

  Masao suddenly realized what he had done. “Yū, I didn’t mean to involve you in this.”

  “It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” That strange teasing little smile had appeared again on Yūgiri’s lips. And then he said, “Don’t think I’m going to leave you to deal with this on your own. I’ll stand by you, no matter what happens.”

  ***

  “So now the Cranes show themselves in their true light.” Lord Toshiro looked up from the Crane’s latest ultimatum. “If we don’t comply with their demands, they plan to execute Naoki. We have until sundown tomorrow to respond.”

  Execute Naoki. The bluntness of the phrase chilled Masao to the core.

  “Respond?” General Okitane echoed. “Or retreat. How can we possibly retreat?”

  “But we came to rescue Lord Naoki!” Masao could not stay silent any longer. “What’s the point if we don’t bring him home?”

  Okitane glared at him.

  “I volunteer to return the Tide Jewels to the Cranes,” Masao said, ignoring his uncle’s disapproving stare.

  “Out of the question,” said Lord Toshiro.

  “I helped steal them; it’s only right that I take them back.”

  “And lose our only bargaining tool? If you can’t make a useful contribution, then keep your mouth shut,” said Okitane. Masao lowered his head, stung by his uncle’s rebuke. Why wouldn’t the old warriors see sense? “How shall we respond, my lord?”

  Lord Toshiro was staring through the letter, his eyes fixed on some distant point. “I owe it to Fumiko’s memory to protect our son,” he muttered. “He’s all I have left to remind me of her.”

  “This isn’t the time to become sentimental,” said Okitane brusquely. “That threat of execution reeks of desperation. We’re winning. With one more well-timed assault, I reckon we could take the castle.”

  An awkward silence fell in which Masao could hear the faint wash of the turning tide on the sand. I have to think of a way to get Naoki out.

  “How much fire drug is left?” Lord Toshiro said at length.

  “The archers have made another twenty fire arrows. And there’s the second iron dragon.”

  Masao’s head jerked up again. “Not the iron dragon, my lord. The saltpeter
we found at the springs is too volatile. We need time to experiment with the blend. Saburo warned me – before he lost consciousness – that it’s too dangerous to use in its present form.”

  “For the Cranes, maybe, but not for us. The fire arrows explode on impact; our archers just have to light them.”

  “You’ve worked with Saburo for long enough, Masao,” said Lord Toshiro. “Surely you’ve gained enough knowledge by now to be able to produce a workable blend of the drug.”

  One of Saburo’s assistants was hurrying toward them over the sands. Masao, distracted, turned toward him, wondering why he had been sent to interrupt the clan lord’s council of war.

  “Forgive me, my lord.” The assistant bowed low. “I bring a message for Lord Masao from Dr Manabu.”

  “For me?” Masao glanced at Lord Toshiro who nodded his permission.

  “He says please come to the hospital tent as soon as you can. Saburo has taken a turn for the worse.”

  Chapter 29

  A treasure hidden at the Sakuranbo shrine? Sakami set the tray down in the kitchen. Questions flew around her mind like a flock of sparrows. Was that the real reason the Kites attacked us? If I asked Lady Inari, would she tell me? Or would that be disrespectful?

  She took the tea bowls off the tray, lingering as she picked up Lord Kaito’s. He held this to his lips and drank from it. If I drank from it too, it would be like an indirect kiss. But then…

  She held her hand to her cheek; she could still feel the warmth of Lord Kaito’s fingers. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss me… A wave of heat burned through her at the idea. What am I thinking? Laughter bubbled up and spilled out. Such a delightful, disgraceful thought.

  “Laughing all by yourself? The first sign of madness, Sakami-chan.” Mai had crept up behind her. “Or have you been up to no good with that handsome ‘cousin’ of yours?”