The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Page 3

  Bringing it close to the lantern light, he saw that it was a piece of paper covered in intricate signs and letters scribed in a dark brown ink that reminded him ominously of dried blood.

  “What is this?” he said softly. Even holding it made him feel dirtied, as if the fading symbols were bleeding into his pores and infecting him with their malice.

  ***

  “Onmyōdō,” said Abbot Genko, taking the paper charm from Kai. “And a powerfully dark piece of conjuration, at that. Whoever staged that band of shadow warriors at our gates must have considerable skill to fool us into thinking it was a Khoryeon attack.”

  “Could that young shinobi be an onmyōji?”

  Abbot Genko looked up at him. “What do you think?”

  “I didn’t sense any evil aura about him.” Kai had an overwhelming urge to go and scrub his fingers clean, as though the lingering essence of onmyōdō had tainted them. “Only his Shadow skills. But this feels…very different.”

  “Is this the first time you’ve encountered the work of an onmyōji, Kai?”

  The abbot was watching him keenly and Kai suddenly wondered if he was testing him. He nodded. “Do you have any idea who might have – ?”

  “There are onmyōji at court who work for the emperor, predicting the most auspicious days for his imperial majesty to undertake official duties. But this is a different kind of magic altogether. Now we’ll have to purify the front gate as well; there’s a powerfully malevolent aura still seeping from this little piece of paper.” The abbot began to chant words of exorcism in a deep, resonant monotone.

  Kai could not keep what he had seen to himself any longer. “There’s no hint of onmyōdō about the prisoner,” he said, “but there’s something else. He has a seal like mine.”

  “A Sacrifice seal?” The abbot, who had been sprinkling the onmyōdō charm with holy water, dropped the brush. “Are you sure?”

  “When I was helping Master Seishi, I saw it glinting on the underside of his left wrist. It only showed when I was near. It was green.” The powerful onmyōdō charms used to deceive them were worrying enough, but it was the brief glimpse of the Ebb seal that was troubling Kai the most. “It means that he’s Ebb’s Sacrifice, doesn’t it?”

  “Ah. This complicates matters even more.” Abbot Genko recovered the brush. “Akatobi no Naoki would be about your age by now.”

  “Naoki,” Kai echoed, the name stirring troubling memories from long ago. “We should have served together here in the temple.”

  “Indeed, you should – as your fathers did before you. But he was exiled with his clan. And the punishment for returning to the mainland without the emperor’s pardon is death.”

  “So why would he risk his life to steal the Tide Jewels?” And then a darker possibility entered Kai’s mind. “You don’t think that the Red Kites have allied themselves with the kingdom of Khoryeo? Suppose he stole them for King Taejo?”

  “The Red Kites turned traitors?” The abbot slowly shook his head. “The Akatobi clan has always served the imperial family faithfully and with honor. The first Lord Akatobi was Empress Himiko’s most trusted retainer – alongside your own ancestor, Lord Kurozuro. I pray, for all our sakes, Kaito, that you’re wrong.”

  Chapter 3

  Kai couldn’t sleep.

  He lay in the darkness, twitching at the slightest sound; even the little gusts of wind off the sea made him sit up, listening intently in case they masked something more sinister. And whenever he fell into an uneasy doze, his dreams were confused and troubling. Voices called his name but they were muted, echoing as if heard from far below deep water, and he woke gasping, as if he had been drowning.

  The Tide Dragons are restless. Can they sense that the jewels have been stolen?

  As dawn broke, he went to the abbot’s garden to gaze out over the grey sea far below and shaded his eyes against the light of rising sun. The village fishermen were pushing their boats down the shingle and out into the choppy tide. There was no sign of Kakumyo – or, thankfully, any Khoryeon warships.

  The Khoryeon attack was just an illusion, designed to throw us off guard. And it worked far too well. But why did Lord Naoki risk his life to steal the Tide Jewels?

  Blear-eyed, he made his way to the refectory where he ate a bowl of millet porridge alongside the other novices. Meals were supposed to be taken in silence but he heard two of the older acolytes whispering together.

  “Did you hear? They caught one of the thieves…”

  “I heard the abbot spent all night performing a ritual to purify the shrine.”

  “Ha! No amount of purifying will protect us when the emperor finds out his jewels have been sto – ”

  “Have you forgotten the rule?” One of the refectory monks came to stand over the boys, menacingly swinging his ladle. “Perhaps a day’s kitchen duties will help you remember next time? Collect up all the used bowls and get ready to start scrubbing.”

  As the sun rose higher, Kai trudged to the Tide Dragon temple to perform his daily duties. No matter how troubled he felt, the instant he entered the shrine all his concerns suddenly seemed to recede, as if washed away by a cleansing tide. The wooden panels lining the walls were painted with sea scenes in shades of blue, green and white, bathing all who entered in a cloudy light. Even the smoking cones of precious incense burning on the altar gave off a salty scent that reminded him of the shore below. It reminded Kai of holding his breath and diving below the surface of the waves; the only time he felt free and agile was when he swam in the bay, able to move swiftly through the waters unhampered by his lame leg.

  Today, when he shuffled off his sandals and crossed the threshold, he saw Abbot Genko and Captain Kakumyo standing gazing up at the carved Tide Dragons; even from the doorway Kai caught glints of luminous color. The statues’ claws were no longer empty.

  “You’ve recovered the jewels!” Relief overwhelmed him as he made his way toward the altar. But as he drew nearer, he noticed that he felt no pinprick of flame on his wrist; the dragon tattoo had not lit up as it usually did when the Tide Jewels were near. The sea-blue Flood Jewel looked suspiciously like painted glass. He turned to check the pearlescent Ebb Jewel, and could not detect even the faintest flicker of pale flame burning at its core.

  “You’ve replaced them with fakes?” The disappointment was all the more intense for having dared to hope that all their troubles were over.

  “So Kaishin wasn’t fooled.” Kakumyo said dryly. “How long do you think we can keep this a secret, Lord Abbot?”

  “At the present time, only our community is aware of what’s happened,” said the abbot. “And the first pilgrims won’t start to arrive for the Tide Festival for another few days.”

  “But the imperial court will soon send officials to make sure all’s ready for the emperor’s visit.” Kai tried to suppress the rising sense of panic.

  “Then here’s my plan,” continued Kakumyo. “We’ll erect a screen here, in front of the altar. We’ll tell the worshippers that it’s to protect the temple treasures – but it’ll also keep them at such a distance that they can’t see the jewels clearly enough to tell the difference.”

  The abbot was silent for a long moment. Eventually he said, “I don’t like to deceive our congregation.”

  “It’ll buy us more time to get the real jewels back.” Kakumyo sounded so confident that Kai almost allowed himself to believe he could succeed.

  “We may deceive the pilgrims,” said Abbot Genko, “but the emperor is no fool. Perhaps it would be best to confess the truth and throw ourselves on his mercy.”

  “And suffer the shame of admitting that we failed him?” Kakumyo let out an indignant snort. “Give us another day to continue our investigations, Abbot; just one more day.”

  Kai turned to Kakumyo. “So you had no luck going after that boat last night?”

  “We lost it out beyond the headland. There are too many little inlets and sea caves where they could have lain low till sunrise. Unless…”


  “Unless?”

  “Unless they were making for Akatobi Island: the Kites’ stronghold.”

  The Kites’ stronghold. “Have you told Captain Kakumyo, Lord Abbot?” Kai asked.

  “Told me what?”

  Kai hesitated. Kakumyo’s keen glance bored into him. “I thought I caught sight of the Ebb Dragon seal on the thief’s left wrist.” Every time Kai looked at Kakumyo the deep scar from the shuriken that had gouged a line through his right brow, eye socket, and cheek reminded him how much he owed the captain who had lost an eye protecting him from the Kites’ ambush.

  “You think he’s Lord Toshiro’s son? Show me.”

  Kai followed the abbot and Kakumyo out into the courtyard. It was quiet; only the shrill, lonely calls of sea birds floating high overhead disturbed the sunlit silence. As they entered the pharmacy garden, the scent of healing herbs, released by the early summer sun, perfumed the air: bitter wormwood, sweet anise, and sharp, blue-flowered rosemary. To a visitor the monastery would seem a tranquil place, untouched by the extraordinary events of the previous night.

  As they approached the infirmary, there came a wild shout, then the sounds of a struggle.

  “Some help here!” called Master Seishi. Kai slid open the dividing door to see Seishi and one of the guards struggling to restrain the boy. The patient was thrashing about in a frenzy, as though fighting off a host of demons.

  Kai grabbed one of boy’s kicking feet and hung on with all his strength, as Master Seishi, Kakumyo, and the guard tried to press him back onto the mattress. The boy’s skin felt burning hot against his own, and his agonized face, as he writhed to and fro, was glistening with sweat. His eyes, crazed and wide, stared at invisible assailants.

  “He’ll – burst the stitches – and undo all our good work,” puffed Seishi. Blotches of bright red blood had appeared, staining the white of the bandages tightly strapped around the boy’s shoulder and chest. “Hold him down as gently as you can.”

  “Easier said,” grunted the guard, “than done.”

  And then suddenly the boy slumped back, as if all the fight had drained from his body. “Masao,” he whispered hoarsely. “Masao… I’m sorry…”

  “Masao,” Kai echoed, looking up at Kakumyo. “A friend? A teacher?”

  “Or his accomplice,” said Kakumyo darkly.

  “He’s strong.” Master Seishi wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Fetch fresh bandages, Kaishin. And mix up a sedative draught.”

  “Wait, Kaishin.” Kakumyo took hold of the boy’s left arm and turned it over, examining his wrist. He beckoned Kai closer.

  “Captain Kakumyo – ” began Master Seishi, but fell silent as Kakumyo glared at him.

  As Kai approached, the boy let out a soft moan and began to move his head restlessly again.

  “Ahh,” breathed Kakumyo. “There it is. You were right, Kaishin.”

  The little flicker of green that Kai had glimpsed before had appeared again on the boy’s skin; Kai could even make out the Ebb seal, so translucent as to be almost invisible, a small delicately inked circle in the form of a curled dragon, the mirror image of his own. The sight of it stirred a whisper of distant memories, evanescent as spindrift.

  You and I, we are alike.

  “Of course…only a Sacrifice would know the secret initiates’ way into the temple through the sea cave; that must be how he got in past my guards,” Kakumyo muttered.

  “So what will you do now you have proof, Kakumyo?” Kai gazed challengingly at the captain. “Will you send word to the emperor?”

  “While there’s still time to do a deal with his father?” Kakumyo said with a malicious grin. “I’ll offer Lord Toshiro an exchange: the Tide Jewels for his son’s life. Do you give your blessing, Lord Abbot?”

  “You mustn’t go to Akatobi Island yourself, Kakumyo,” said the abbot. “The Kites would kill you before you set foot on shore. Lord Toshiro took a vow of vengeance against every Crane retainer who was with Lord Morimitsu the night Akatobi Castle burned down. Let me send one of the elder brothers instead. Daigu - or Soshin - will take your offer on our behalf.”

  “Very well.” Kai had expected Kakumyo to object but the captain merely nodded his agreement to the abbot. “I’ll go and prepare the letter of terms straight away.”

  “That sedative draught,” Master Seishi reminded Kai patiently as Kakumyo hurried off, “and the bandages.”

  “Yes, Sensei.” Kai followed the captain out of the infirmary.

  “Archery practice as usual today, Kaishin,” Kakumyo called over his shoulder. “Don’t forget.”

  Kai nodded. He had never felt less like drawing his bow.

  Unexpectedly, Kakumyo turned and came back.

  “You’ve been worrying about this, haven’t you? First blood?”

  Kai nodded again, unable to meet Kakumyo’s searching gaze. The mention of blood stirred a faint echo of the nausea that had overcome him.

  “You did well, Kaishin. If you hadn’t brought that thieving Kite down, we’d be in far worse trouble.”

  Kai wished he could believe that. “But I’m training to heal people – not to injure them.”

  “You acted to defend the monastery and the sacred jewels.” Kakumyo reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, Kai thought he might have been about to tousle his hair, as he used to when he was younger – but this felt different, as if Kakumyo were talking to him man to man. “That’s why you’re here. Our clan was chosen – above all the others – to guard the imperial treasures. The Red Kites have just proved again how unworthy they are.”

  “But Lord Naoki is still Ebb’s Sacrifice.” Kai was confused. By rights, the honor of serving the Ebb Dragon should have been given to another nobly born boy after the Kites were sent into exile, and a new ceremony held. But for some reason, the emperor had never instructed the abbot to seek out a new Sacrifice to take the young Kite’s place. “Why did Emperor Suzaku allow Lord Naoki to remain so when his clan was exiled?”

  “Ebb refused to accept another child in his stead.”

  “He refused?”

  “The abbot held a ceremony but Ebb never appeared to give his blessing to the chosen boy.” Kakumyo gave a shrug. “And we can’t argue with a god of the sea…”

  Chapter 4

  On moonlit nights Kai often went into the abbot’s garden to practice his flute. His favorite place was a corner that overlooked the sea far below; shaded by the branches of a sea pine, he could sit in a niche in the wall and gaze out over the waters as he played.

  He had composed melodies for different seasons of the year: slow and melancholic for autumn, like the fall of the dying leaves from the trees; chill and brittle tunes for winter, filled with a shiver of ice; rapid, high and bright-toned for spring, like the chirruping songs of nesting birds. In summer, his music was inspired by the wide sea that lapped on the shore beneath the rugged promontory on which the monastery stood.

  The moon was almost full and hanging low above the inky sea, its light painting a pale pathway across the waves, like a wake of silvered foam. Yet Kai couldn’t lose himself entirely in his music; his eyes kept straying to the single flame still burning in the infirmary window.

  Masao. The name Lord Naoki had called must belong to someone important to him.

  If I were lying there, delirious, whose name would I call? Is there anyone that I care about that much? Not a single face appeared in Kai’s mind. His fingers slowed and the notes died away. He had never had a companion of his own age, apart from a brief, secret friendship with Sakami, an orphaned servant girl at Castle Kurozuro. His older brother Takeru had always been too busy with martial arts to pay him much attention; he’d been out hunting or learning the art of the sword with the other young Cranes, enjoying the sports that Kai couldn’t join in because of his lame leg.

  Sakami… you’ve probably forgotten all about me by now. Without even thinking, he began to play an old, well-loved tune, and the notes of the clan song of the Bl
ack Cranes floated out into the soft night air.

  “Three Cranes on the Shore…” For some reason he found tears blurring his eyes. The first tune I ever learned to play. The tune I used to play for you when we stole out to watch the fox cubs playing by the stream. The tune everyone sang at the Festival of the Black Cranes before the dancing and feasting began… He stopped playing to wipe the tears from his eyes. What’s wrong with me? Am I homesick? His place was here now, serving the temple.

  “Kaito…”

  “Who’s there?” Kai looked round, startled. As if in response came a flicker of light, far out across the sea, a brief as lightning… and then a second, closer, bluish-white…

  He shivered, as if a sudden sea breeze had ruffled his hair. Was a storm brewing? But the night was calm and not even a single cloud had drifted across the silvered face of the moon. Those lights…

  “Kaito…come to the sea cave…” The voice resonated in his mind again, sending tremors through his body. His skin suddenly prickled with goosebumps. The Flood Dragon seal on his wrist began to throb. I know that voice. But I haven’t heard it since I was a child.

  “I shall be waiting for you.”

  The sea was rushing into the bay far below; it would soon be high tide. This was a command Kai knew he must obey. As he made his slow way through the moonlight toward the entrance to the sea cave, he felt his heart beating faster with apprehension at the thought that the dragon lord of high tide, Flood, had summoned him.

  Does Flood know what’s happened? Is he going to punish me?

  Two warrior monks had been posted to guard the entrance to the underground shrine since the Red Kite raid; they stood aside to let Kai enter. Kai made his slow, awkward way down the torchlit steps that led beneath the Tide Dragon temple to the cave that lay beneath. The rising tide rushing into the narrow fissure in the cliff sounded like the roar of an enraged beast. Suddenly he was five again and reluctantly trailing after his father down the slippery steps that led into the secret under-temple.