Emperor of the Fireflies Read online

  All those affectionate and heartfelt poems he wrote for me. . . I still treasure them. But if he meant one single word, why has he been neglecting me for Lady Saisho? I really believed he loved me. . .

  A high melody, frail as the sound of distant birdsong floated by on the night air. She sat up, stilling her own breathing the better to catch the faint sounds.

  A flute. Someone was playing a flute. Could it be one of the monks? She strained to catch the notes to make sense of the tune, but it was too far away and fragmented to identify. And yet there was something strangely familiar and comforting about the phrases as they drifted over the sleeping monastery. She lay back, closing her eyes, lulled to sleep by the flute player’s music.

  Chapter 43

  The morning dawned gray, dampening the monastery with a fine and chill drizzle. But Ayaka was determined to go outside for a walk.

  “You’ll catch a cold,” said Ochiba disapprovingly.

  “Nonsense! The fresh sea air will be invigorating.” Ayaka gazed at her ladies, who had all averted their faces. “Who’s going to join me?”

  One by one, they feigned excuses, insisting that they must spend time preparing her festival clothes as well as their own. Ayaka was secretly relieved that they were reluctant to brave the inclement weather. She far preferred to be alone with her thoughts for a little while. Alone, apart from Reika, whom Ochiba selected to be her chaperone and bodyguard.

  “I still can’t believe that the ex-emperor might be lying dead out there.” Ayaka leaned on the wall of the abbot’s garden, staring out to sea, whilst Reika hovered close by, searching among the fallen leaves for health-giving ginkgo nuts. A thick sea mist had descended, obscuring the horizon, and Ayaka wondered if she was seeing clouds of smoke lingering from the disastrous fire on Akatobi Island. “What a horrible way to have to die.”

  “There may still be better news,” Reika said and pounced on a nut, adding it to her little bamboo basket.

  “Will the Autumn Moon Festival go ahead, I wonder?”

  “Or will it be cancelled?”

  “That depends on whether the emperor decrees that the court should go into mourning or not. . .”

  “I’m surprised that you were so eager to return.” Reika pounced again, adding her find to the little basket. “After all, you nearly drowned out there this summer.”

  “I’m surprised too, Reika.” Ayaka drew in some deep breaths of the salty air. “It feels strange to look across the bay and not to see Flood raising his great whiskered head from the waves. I wonder where he is.”

  A sudden shiver passed through her as though the air temperature had plummeted. Or as if I had fallen into deep water. . .

  Ayaka caught a flicker of movement and spotted a young man wearing a novice’s jacket and hakama hurrying up the cliff path from the beach.

  I know you.

  At that moment, he stopped, almost as if he was aware of her presence, and looked upward.

  Eyes, blue as the sea, met her gaze.

  “Lord Kaito. . . ?”

  A shock of feelings washed over her: vivid, confused, surprised.

  Why has he risked coming back here, so close to the festival? Surely he knows that Hotaru plans to summon him and force him to obey his will?

  She turned her head away, pretending she hadn’t seen him.

  How can I betray him when he saved my life? I owe him everything.

  She glanced around to see if Reika had noticed anything but her maid seemed unaware of her flustered state. She picked, distractedly, at the frilly, curling leaves of a shiso bush, releasing their pungent scent.

  “I think it’s starting to rain again,” Reika said, checking the louring sky. “Shall we go in? It wouldn’t do for you to get chilled, majesty.”

  Yet, as they made her way back to the guest wing and warming bowls of ginger tea, Ayaka could not stop wondering to find out what had made Lord Kaito risk being caught when there was such a high price on his head.

  There’s no way he could have known of my arrival.

  That knowledge would probably send him away and she would never see him again. And for some reason, the thought filled her with feelings of regret.

  I’m just a curious person, a hopeless busybody! she told herself, trying to laugh it off. But ever since their eyes had met, forgotten feelings had reawakened, memories that she had done all she could to repress since she became Hotaru’s empress.

  There’s still a connection between us.

  ***

  Why is Empress Ayaka here? Kai hurried on up the steep cliff path. The Autumn Moon Festival is still several days away. I should have used the hidden shrine route into the monastery.

  But it was too late. He’d been so worried about his mother that he’d been careless and taken the most direct route.

  The empress definitely saw me – but she didn’t call out, or summon her guards. Does that mean I can trust her?

  He reached the sea gate and greeted the two white-hooded warrior monks standing guard.

  “Be careful, Kaishin,” said one. “The empress and her entourage have arrived. You don’t want to be recognized.” And he took off his white hooded cloak and draped it over Kai, silencing his protest with a shake of the head. “Return it to me later; Captain Garyo told us to give you whatever help we can.”

  Touched, Kai nodded his thanks. “I won’t stay long. I just have to. . .” He left the thought unfinished, knowing they would understand his concern for the casualties from the fire.

  “Was it you playing the flute last night?”

  “You heard me?” Kai lowered his head, embarrassed. “I’m out of practice. I just thought it might reach my mother and help bring her back to consciousness. Master Seishi says music can do that; a familiar tune can work where ordinary words aren’t enough.”

  The monks nodded in sympathy and stood aside to let him pass.

  Kai, head down, made his way swiftly to the infirmary, purposely keeping away from the path that led to the abbot’s garden. The empress may still be there. . .

  He cleaned his hands at the well, then slipped inside. The familiar fragrance of bitter fever herbs burning to fumigate the air made him wrinkle his nose.

  “Can I help you, Brother?” Kokaku, Master Seishi’s latest apprentice, emerged from the pharmacy. Brother? Kai realized that the headdress must have fooled him.

  “Where’s Master Seishi?” Kai was reluctant to reveal his identity; he had no means of knowing how trustworthy the young man might be.

  “In here,” called a familiar voice from the small room in which patients with serious injuries were treated. Kai hesitated. Master Seishi beckoned him inside and silently showed him that they had erected screens to give the princess some privacy.

  “Any change?” Kai asked softly.

  “Very little.” Master Seishi shook his head. “I’ve administered tincture of ginseng which should help restore her to consciousness. But as yet. . .”

  The princess was lying behind the screens and at her side knelt Umeko. Kai’s old nurse glanced up and, on seeing him, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Master Seishi has been so kind to us,” she said.

  “Thank you for staying with my mother, Umeko,” Kai said, kneeling on the other side of the futon; he was glad that she had not been obliged to lie here alone among strangers. Then he gazed down at the princess.

  He was shocked to see how much she had aged; her long dark hair was streaked with gray and her eyebrows, usually shaved and painted black, were showing through, sparse and white. Little lines and creases, usually concealed beneath her face paint, could clearly be seen.

  She’s had to endure so many shocks and disappointments this past year; no wonder the strain has begun to take its toll.

  “But the emperor and the court are coming here,” Umeko went on, her voice trembling. “How can we stay? We’re breaking our terms of exile. We’ll be punished.”

  “I think the emperor has other things to worry about than a couple o
f patients in the infirmary,” Kai said, glancing across at Master Seishi who nodded in agreement. And then he asked, “Did she make any kind of response when I played the flute?”

  Umeko hesitated. “Her eyelids fluttered a little. I think she heard you.”

  “Shall I try again? Here, at her bedside this time?”

  Umeko looked nervously up at Master Seishi. “But suppose the empress’s entourage hear you playing a Black Crane song? Won’t that make them suspicious? We don’t want to draw their attention.”

  “But the longer my mother is unconscious, the harder it may be to rouse her.” Kai turned to Master Seishi who nodded and silently handed him his flute.

  “Is that the instrument you first learned on?” Umeko asked as Kai moistened his lips and blew a gentle flurry of notes as a test.

  “It is; Master Seishi kept it here for me with my other possessions.”

  “Ready for when you return to us,” Master Seishi said quietly.

  “When” – not “if.” Kai bowed his head, not trusting himself to answer for fear his voice would break. If only I could believe it to be true.

  “Didn’t you use to take yourself down into the siege tunnels to practice?” Umeko said.

  “That’s because I made too many squeaks and annoyed Mother.” Kai pulled a little grimace at the memory. “I wasn’t very good. It wasn’t until I came here that Kakumyo taught me how to breathe properly – and the squeaking stopped.”

  “He was a good flute-player, the late general,” Umeko said, nodding. “I wish I could go and burn incense at his grave. But I can’t leave the princess unattended.”

  “He’d be glad that you remembered him as a flute-player, as well as a warrior.” Kai had noticed a slight blush coloring Umeko’s cheeks. “You must have known him long before he became a monk.”

  “He was so good-looking when he was young. He used to compose songs to all the girls.” Umeko heaved a fluttering sigh. “He was quite the flirt.”

  “Captain Kakumyo a man for the ladies?” Master Seishi raised one quizzical eyebrow.

  “Oh, you should have seen him twenty years back, Master Seishi,” Umeko said and then sighed again. “But we were all so much younger then. . .”

  So Umeko had harbored feelings for Kakumyo, which must have been dashed when Kakumyo became a warrior monk. Kai glanced at his nurse, trying to imagine her as a young woman. “Shall I play a song that Kakumyo taught me?”

  “Do you remember ‘Gathering Yellow Irises?’ Your father always loved that tune.”

  Kai lifted the flute to his lips once more and closed his eyes before starting to play. It was many months since he had performed the yellow iris song, so he was a little hesitant at first but, as he continued, he became more confident.

  By the time he reached the third verse, he saw his mother move her head. He was so surprised that he stopped playing.

  “Princess?” Umeko leaned forward eagerly, dabbing her mistress’s forehead with a moistened cloth. But Princess Asagao merely gave a little sigh and her eyelids closed again.

  ***

  Shrouded in his disguise, Kai was on his way out of the infirmary when he heard young women’s voices merrily laughing and chattering. He stopped in the shadow of the infirmary to check that his way was clear and saw Abbot Genko leading Empress Ayaka and her ladies-in-waiting around the outside of new temple. The delicate shades of the ladies’ layered gowns brightened the drab morning: ash and grass green; kerria rose and ochre and the empress herself was dressed in white, blue and violet.

  We only met once – and that was when I rescued you from the sea. When Flood went mad and almost drowned us all.

  Struggling upward through the swirling tide, dragging the slender girl toward the surface as the weight of her waterlogged clothes threatened to pull them both down into the deep.

  Kai could still feel her soft cheek against his, wet and cold from the sea’s chill embrace. And then, as Inari possessed her, she had come back to life. She had even kissed him.

  No, that wasn’t Ayaka, it was Inari pressing her mouth to Lord Kurozuro’s in one last, passionate farewell embrace to set him free. But the memory of it brought the blood to his face and his whole body was suddenly on fire. Why did I have to remember that now? She’s Hotaru’s bride. She can never be mine.

  The little party had turned the corner and was out of sight; it was safe for him to make a run for it.

  Besides, how many of these memories are my own? They feel so vivid, but they must be the feelings that Lord Kurozuro had for Empress Himiko, the woman he loved but could never make his own.

  ***

  “The new temple is almost finished, as you can see, majesty.” Abbot Genko led Ayaka and her ladies around the perimeter of the scaffolding. Gazing up, she could see the monks perched perilously high, wielding hammers as they worked on the shingled roof. The fumes arising from the steaming vats of lacquer were so acridly pungent that she was obliged to hold her sleeve over her face to stop her eyes from streaming. “Thanks to the emperor’s generosity, we’ve been able make good progress. But, I fear, it will not entirely be ready in time for the Autumn Moon Festival.”

  “Is that a problem?” Ayaka wondered.

  “Not at all.” The abbot smiled at her. “We’ve converted the main hall – where you performed the ceremonial dance so beautifully and won his majesty’s heart – into a temporary temple. And then, if the emperor wishes to pay his respects at the secret shrine, I could –”

  “Secret shrine?” Ayaka echoed, suddenly all attention. “Could I visit it too? To pray to the Tide Dragons?” she added.

  “Only the initiated are allowed there; it’s the place where the Sacrifice seal ceremony is held.”

  Ayaka nodded, disappointed And then she felt another little shiver. Could that be where Lord Kaito was going when I saw him? A hidden shrine sacred to the Tide Dragons and their mortal Sacrifices?

  ***

  When, at last, Ayaka slept, the sound of the sea infiltrated her dreams. Sinking through luminously blue waters, she swam, searching for something. . . Or someone. And then the distant dulcet notes of a flute floated down through the waves. . .

  Ayaka opened her eyes. Dawn could not be far off as a soft pearl-gray light had begun to penetrate the blinds. But she could still hear the flute.

  I didn’t dream it!

  She sat up, straining to catch the elusive wisps of melody.

  I know that song. It’s “Three Cranes on the Shore.” And the last time I heard it here, the sea was a roaring maelstrom and Lord Kaito was playing it to try to pacify Flood. . .

  The memory pierced her heart like an arrow. But such a sweet pain –

  Images, voices, feelings rushed through her consciousness, as if suddenly set free from a locked chamber.

  She pressed both hands to her head.

  Whose memories are these?

  Chapter 44

  “I was surprised to hear that the empress has already left for the Tide Dragon monastery.” Lady Saisho placed a steaming tea bowl in Hotaru’s upraised hands before gracefully reassuming her place opposite. “Are you neglecting the poor young woman?”

  Hotaru almost choked on his tea. “Neglecting Ayaka?” he said, spluttering.

  Her peony-red lips curved in a knowing smile. “Well, here you are again for your flute lesson. When was the last time you drank tea with your wife?”

  He set the bowl down. Lady Saisho had always been too astute; she could read the actions of the courtiers around her with terrifying accuracy.

  She leaned forward and said softly, “Why Lady Ayaka? Out of all the young court ladies and eligible heiresses, why did you pick her? She’s pretty, but she has a. . .difficult character.”

  The tea steam had clouded his lenses; he took off the spectacles to wipe them clean.

  “Pursuing that naive girl was a shrewd move on your part, I’ll allow, to secure an alliance with the Nagamoto Clan.”

  “A shrewd move?” It was his turn to smile,
a little regretfully. “You make me sound such a callous, calculating man. She’s a delightful child and I love her dearly.” Even as he said the words aloud, he was aware how hollow they must sound. His feelings toward Ayaka were complicated. She had been useful to him and she pleased him. But he knew now that she would never replace Aoi in his affections. No one could. And as it was his fault that Aoi had died, he was reluctant to let down his guard again in matters of the heart.

  “They’re saying that she’s gone ahead to the temple to pray for a child to bless your union.” Saisho had not reacted to his affirmation of his love for her rival. “Does the fault lie with her? Or is it yours for neglecting the poor girl?”

  Hotaru replaced his spectacles, carefully winding the wires around his ears.

  “Send her a little gift. Write her a poem. Anything to remind her that she is still special in your eyes,” Saisho leaned forward again. “Or her affections will stray elsewhere. Young women are easily swayed by a handsome face, an appreciative glance. . .”

  The image of Ayaka kissing Lord Kaito flashed unbidden across his memory. It stirred a strange, queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

  Are those two still possessed by the spirits of Himiko and her lover Kaoru? Will the strength of their ancient love draw them back together when she revisits that windswept shore? That could save me a great deal of time and trouble. . .

  “More tea?”

  He looked up to see Saisho holding the metal pot in front of him

  “You were far away.”

  ***

  The softly dying cadences of the flute song float up from the shore as she walks down the winding cliff path toward the bay.

  “He’s here. And he’s calling to me.” Her heart is beating painfully fast as she hurries on, knowing too well that the sadness of the song reflects the bitter regret in the player’s soul. “And in mine too,” she whispers, her words wafted away on the sharp wind gusting off the sea.