The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Page 37

  All of a sudden he is back in the secret shrine deep beneath the Tide Dragon temple, biting his lip till he can taste blood to hold back the tears of pain as the monks tattoo the Ebb seal into his skin.

  “It hurts, doesn’t it?” Naoki looks up to see a white-haired man gazing down at him from eyes as green as a fresh spring tide. He nods, feeling a tear spill out and slide down one cheek. “Would you like me to ease the pain?” Naoki nods again and the white-haired stranger bends over him and kisses his forehead. To Naoki’s surprise, at the touch of his lips, the unbearable burning of the monks’ needles and the sting of the colored inks fades until he can hardly feel them. “Better now, little Sacrifice?” The white-haired stranger gives him a conspiratorial wink and draws back, one finger over his lips, indicating he should say nothing.

  As soon as the tattoo is finished and the monks help Naoki to sit up, he looks around for the man who spoke so kindly to him. “Where is he?” he demands. “The white-haired man with the green eyes?” He remembers the monks shrugging their shoulders.

  “You must have been dreaming, my lord,” one said, patting his head benignly. “There’s been no one here but us the whole time.”

  “I…haven’t forgotten you,” Naoki stammers.

  “Then why did you re-awaken the forbidden jutsu ? The fire coursing in your blood has seared away all traces of our bond. And now I can’t protect you any longer. This is farewell, Naoki…” And Prince Shiohiru turns on his heel, walking back toward the distant tide.

  “Wait!” Naoki cries. “What do you mean, you can’t protect me? What – ”

  ***

  He awoke with a start. The raucous cries of the cormorants echoed around the empty inlet, water gently slapped against the rocks, the air smelled of seaweed drying in the sun.

  He looked at his left wrist. The Ebb tattoo had vanished.

  Chapter 39

  The sun-glitter off the muddy water in the rice fields dazzled Masao; he stopped to wipe the salt sweat trickling into his eyes on his sleeve.

  “It’s so hot,” he said, taking a swig from his water gourd. Yūgiri didn’t reply; he was staring toward the sea. Masao had come to recognize that distant, distracted look.

  “What is it, Yū?”

  Yūgiri shivered. The afternoon breeze lifted strands of his pale hair.

  “You can’t be cold in this heat!”

  “Prince Shiohiru,” Yūgiri said, still staring out across the sea. “Ebb is close by.”

  “How can you tell? Is the tide on the turn?” Masao shaded his eyes to gaze in the same direction; the light off the waves was so intense that he could see nothing but a sparkling sheen of rippling light.

  “Masao.” Yūgiri turned to him suddenly, clutching him by the shoulder and looking into his eyes with an intensity that startled him. “I have a bad feeling about this. Don’t go to the monastery.”

  “But I gave my word to Lord Kaito I’d help him. I can’t back down now.” Masao stared back, not understanding. “Besides, we knew going after Naoki would be dangerous.”

  Yūgiri’s grip grew tighter. “Let me go instead.”

  “Why? Why would I send you on alone?”

  Yūgiri glanced away, as if embarrassed. “I – I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because I’d ignored an intuition this strong. I’d never forgive myself.”

  “Is that a confession, Yū?” Masao felt a secret surge of triumph.

  “A confession? What do you mean?” Yūgiri looked up and Masao saw that his pale skin had flushed.

  “That you care for me.” Maybe it was the realization that what was coming might drive them apart forever that had sharpened and intensified his feelings for Yūgiri. Or maybe it was the first time in his twenty-one years that he had been overwhelmed by this heady rush of protective, possessive emotion for another individual.

  “I just said I couldn’t bear it if – ”

  Masao reached out to touch his face. “So why are you so red?” The temptation to tease Yūgiri was too strong to resist.

  “It’s hot, or hadn’t you noticed?”

  Masao laughed and pulled him closer. “You’ve made me so happy, Yū.”

  “I said it was hot, and now you’re making matters worse – ”

  Masao silenced Yūgiri’s protest by pressing his mouth to his. At first he felt him resist, trying to twist away, and then all his resistance seemed to melt away and he kissed him back, winding his arms tightly around him.

  ***

  Ayaka had never ventured out unaccompanied before. Pretending she was Reika lent a certain illicit thrill to the occasion. Infiltrating the monastery cloaked in black made her feel as secretive as one of the legendary shinobi on a secret mission.

  Have I thought this through, though? Shall I just deliver the letter to his highness and then disappear, so that the prince wonders, ‘Who was that mysterious masked lady?’ Or shall I strip off my mask and reveal my true identity? Or will that pretty page boy insist on delivering it to his master himself? He’s too self-assured for his own good, that one.

  She stopped, staring around her; as the last of the light faded from the sky and the purple twilight darkened to black, she realized that she wasn’t sure where she was. The tall pagoda tower of the temple loomed ahead, so she must have missed the turning to the guest rooms where the imperial family was staying.

  Swinging around to retrace her steps, she saw a dark masked figure standing silently behind her. She opened her mouth to scream – and the stranger swiftly placed a hand over her mouth.

  “Reika?” Ayaka said in a smothered voice.

  “My lady,” said her maid, “what are you doing? If anyone at court saw you out unchaperoned after dark, your reputation would be ruined.”

  “And suppose I was going to make an offering at the temple?”

  “That looks more like a love letter you’re clutching than an offering.”

  Ayaka glared at her.

  “If it’s a letter for his highness the prince, I’ll willingly deliver it for you.”

  “So you can make eyes at his page boy?”

  Reika sighed. “Kobai is thirteen years old, my lady. I’m not a cradle snatcher.” She began to steer her back toward the main courtyard.

  “Where are you taking me?” Ayaka realized she was being firmly guided back to the family’s tent.

  “Back to where you should be: resting so that you can dance your best tomorrow.”

  ***

  The sun was dipping toward the western horizon as Masao led Yūgiri along the shore below the monastery, burnishing the green of the sea with a wash of fiery gold. A cool, salt-stung breeze blew across the bay, welcome relief after the afternoon heat, and the first stars had begun to appear in the darkening sky.

  “Kakumyo’s warrior monks are guarding the sea gate,” Masao said, pointing to the cowled figures patrolling on the cliffs above.

  “But there’s still no sign of Naoki.”

  They stopped to rest in a crevice in the cliffs where a freshwater stream ran down to the sea. Masao shared out the last of the cherries they had picked on the mountain. “Is there any way you can trace his Kite Shadow, Yū?”

  Yūgiri slowly shook his head, gazing at the setting sun. “Ebb’s presence is still too strong here. He must have come right into the bay when we were up on the headland. Perhaps he sensed the Tide Jewels…”

  “Then Naoki can’t be far away.”

  “Naoki won’t give up the Tide Jewels without a fight; you know that, don’t you?” Yūgiri said, putting one of the cherries in his mouth. “Are you prepared to take him on? You’ve been protecting him since he was born.”

  “And yet I couldn’t protect him from Prince Hotaru.” Masao dipped his drinking gourd into the clear water and offered it to Yūgiri; the shaman drank and handed it back, nodding in thanks. As Masao drank too, he heard Yū quietly laughing.

  “What?” Masao looked up at him as he drained the gourd.

  “Don’t you remember when
we were children? The girls used to offer us a drink from their gourds. Then they’d accuse us of stealing an ‘indirect kiss’ and tease us mercilessly.”

  “I can do better than an indirect kiss, if you like,” said Masao, leaning in close. Yūgiri blushed but didn’t push him away.

  “How can you flirt so blatantly at a time like this?” he said softly.

  “Precisely because it is a time like this.” And then Masao laughed again. “You taste of cherries.”

  ***

  Naoki toiled up the winding path through the growing darkness. Ever since his dream of Ebb (or had it been a dream? It had been so vivid) his strength had rapidly leached away, almost as if the Ebb Dragon had drawn it out of him in recompense for breaking their bond. But that notion seemed fanciful when it was probably just that he had reached the limit of his new-given Shadow skill.

  Must save the last of my energy to evade Kakumyo’s guards at the gate; they mustn’t even suspect that someone’s trying to get in this way…

  He pressed his palms together and tried to summoned the Kite Shadow once more. But the effort exhausted him; he dropped to one knee, dizzy and shaking.

  It would be pathetic to fail now when I’m so close to my goal. If I want it badly enough, I should be able to find the strength. If only I had one of the Hisui here to restore me. Even the emperor’s personal physician wouldn’t be able to help me…

  The tide was coming in, and the light of the rising moon flecked the dark waters with silver.

  Ebb’s influence is waning. Maybe now –

  “All quiet round here, lads?” The voice from higher up the cliff start startled Naoki. He recognized that harsh, acerbic tone; it was Captain Kakumyo, on his evening rounds.

  “Thus far, Captain,” he heard one of the guards reply.

  “Keep vigilant. The Kites got in this way last time – let’s not be caught napping here a second time. Not on the eve of the festival.”

  “You can count on us, Captain!”

  Naoki waited, his back pressed against the cliff face. Kakumyo’s voice had awakened a host of unpleasant memories that he had tried to forget. He could still feel the impact of the captain’s fist knocking him to the ground. He didn’t doubt that if they were to meet again within the monastery walls, Kakumyo would try to kill him.

  After a while, the voices faded into the night, and he began once more to make the hand signs for the Kite Shadow jutsu. This time I mustn’t fail.

  And at last he felt the rush of dark energy pulse through his body, lifting him high into the air. He saw the white headdresses of the guards at the gate far below, saw the glint of the moonlight on their naginata blades, as he darted towards the abbot’s garden on the furthest tip of the promontory.

  ***

  The moonlight glinted like silvered fish scales scattered on the incoming tide in the bay below as Masao went ahead up the cliff path, Yūgiri following. Masao was sure that Naoki must be close by, but the nearer they came to the sea gate and the patrolling monk sentries, the more baffled he felt. But I gave my word to Lord Kaito I’d find him; I’m not giving up now.

  Flicker of Shadow wings stirring the dark air…

  Masao turned to Yūgiri. “Did you feel that?”

  “The Kite Shadow.”

  “We’ve found Naoki.” Masao gazed up at the cliff above them, looming black against the luminous blue of the moonlit sky. “Put your arms around my neck.”

  “This isn’t the place – ” began Yūgiri, but then he saw Masao making the Shadow skill hand signs and obeyed.

  “Ever flown before?” Masao whispered, his lips brushing Yūgiri’s ear. The shaman wound his arms about him just as the Shadow energy flowed through his body, and they rose into the starlit night.

  ***

  Naoki fell the last few feet, landing clumsily in a clump of bushes. Scratched by twigs and leaves, he staggered to his feet, swaying as he scanned the dark garden to get his bearings. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he saw the gentle glow of colored festival lanterns hanging outside the abbot’s summer house at the far end of the path.

  You’re late; you’ve kept my master waiting.

  Naoki jumped as a deep voice scorched his mind. A figure materialized in the gloom; he was dressed in the livery of the imperial household, but no imperial servant had eyes that glowed like hot coals or spoke with the hiss of a blazing furnace.

  “Kurika?”

  “Follow me.”

  Naoki obeyed, stumbling from exhaustion, scarcely able to place one foot in front of the other. A burning hand gripped his arm, hauling him to his feet, supporting him the last steps of the way.

  “I’m glad to see you at last, Naoki.” Prince Hotaru was sitting on a stone seat inside the summer house. With his hands resting on the two carved lion dog supports, he looked uncannily like his brother the emperor holding audience from the Phoenix Throne.

  “I’ve brought what you asked for, your highness.” Naoki heard his own voice as if from very far away. He dropped to his knees before the prince; he had expended the last of his energy in avoiding the guards at the sea gate.

  “I knew I could rely on you.” The prince rose and came toward him. In the soft light of the lanterns overhead, Naoki saw that Prince Hotaru was smiling down at him. Have I earned his approval at last? He’d wanted to see that calm, encouraging smile for so long. The desire had been like a desperate craving, gnawing away inside him, driving him to complete his mission even when he was chained in the Black Cranes’ dungeons.

  He fumbled inside his tunic and brought out the Tide Jewels, placing them in the prince’s outstretched hands. Even in the darkness he saw the flame flickering deep within the Flood Jewel – but the flame in the Ebb Jewel had gone out.

  The prince looked down at the two sacred pearls. “I know it’s cost you dear to bring these to me,” he said, “but why has the soul-light been extinguished in the Ebb Jewel?”

  So it hadn’t been a dream.

  “Prince Shiohiru came to me on the shore,” Naoki said, struggling to speak coherently as fatigue began to seep through his body. “He asked me why I had broken our bond. I – I couldn’t explain it to him. All I know is that after I used the Flame Feathers jutsu, the Sacrifice seal began to fade. It’s as if the fire jutsu erased my connection with the sea.” To have fought so hard to get the Tide Jewels back, only to learn that he might – unwittingly – have rendered one of them unusable was almost more than he could bear.

  “Kurika?” Prince Hotaru glanced at the shikigami, who had been standing silently behind the lion dog chair, his arms folded. “Is that possible?”

  A flicker of scarlet briefly flared in Kurika’s eyes. “Perhaps,” he said obliquely.

  “Then that could present us with a problem,” said the prince. His smile had faded and Naoki could no longer see his expression behind his spectacle lenses. “If the original bond has been broken, Shiohiru will refuse to come to my summons. And it will all have been in vain.”

  In vain? Naoki heard the prince’s words and bowed so low that his forehead grazed the ground. “I’m so sorry, your highness.”

  Prince Hotaru turned away.

  “I never imagined that Ebb would reject me.” Naoki had never heard Prince Hotaru raise his voice in anger, but this chill silence was more terrifying than any outburst of rage. Will he force me to undergo the ceremony again? And even if he does, will Ebb refuse to take me as his Sacrifice a second time? The mellow glow of the lanterns began to blur before his eyes and he heard a roaring in his ears as if he were drowning in deep waters. From far away he heard someone calling his name. Ebb must have come back for him, to claim his soul as his Sacrifice.

  “Prince Shiohiru… Don’t…take me…” he whispered.

  “His pulse is very weak.” The voice was so distant that he had no idea whose pulse was being discussed.

  “His life force is fading,” said another voice, dry and fierce as the heat of Kinkiyo’s smithy. “His body isn’t strong enough
to channel so much power.”

  “I still need this boy, Kurika. Can you restore him?”

  “No; my fire energy has damaged him enough already.”

  “Then go and fetch one of the Hisui shamans and bring him here. Hurry!”

  Chapter 40

  A dark whirlwind of heat swept Yūgiri and Masao up before Masao even had time to draw his sword.

  Moments later, they were flung down on the ground. Winded, Masao struggled up again, placing himself in front of Yūgiri. He could still feel the burning imprint of powerful hands on his body where the shikigami had grabbed him. By the soft light of festival lanterns strung overhead, he saw Naoki lying unconscious a few feet away. And standing beside him was the onmyōji who had been manipulating them both: Prince Hotaru.

  “What have you done to Lord Naoki?” Masao cried.

  “Look out, Masao!” Yūgiri’s warning came too late. Hotaru had opened one hand; a ghostly white moth fluttered out from between his fingers, flying directly toward Masao. He raised his hands to try to bat it away, but it evaded his attempts, alighting on his forehead. Suddenly his hands wouldn’t move of their own accord any longer. Another cursed onmyōdō spell. He wanted to call out to Yūgiri but his tongue had frozen. It’s happening again. I’m trapped. A surge of panic twisted his stomach. It’s burrowing into my brain. Help me, Yū!

  “Your arrival is timely, shaman,” said the prince. “Although I imagine you didn’t follow Lord Naoki here with the sole purpose of healing him.”

  “You guessed correctly, your highness.” Yūgiri snapped his fingers in Masao’s direction and the white moth dropped to the ground, disintegrating to dust as it fell. Kurika instantly caught hold of Masao, twisting his arms behind his back. The pain was excruciating but Masao resisted till he could bear it no longer before he dropped to his knees. Kurika ripped his sword out of his belt and kicked it to the opposite side of the summer house.

  “Someone’s coming,” warned the shikigami.

  Masao listened and heard the steady tramp of marching feet approaching.

  Hotaru drew a paper charm from his sleeve and threw it into the air above their heads. Masao saw the charm melt into a veil of mist-like shadow that floated down to conceal the inside of the summer house just as Kakumyo appeared, followed by a squad of armed warrior monks.