The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Page 39

  Her mother was gossiping with Princess Kumoi behind her fan, but her father looked unusually ill at ease, frowning slightly as he scanned the audience. Who is he looking for? She saw him beckon an attendant over and whisper in his ear; as he hurried away, she was surprised to recognize Kobai, the prince’s page boy. Perhaps the heat has given Father a headache and the tuning of the musicians is making it worse… And the musicians were certainly taking their time to prepare; the jangle and twanging was beginning to irritate her ears.

  Abbot Genko entered, bowed low before the august guests, and began a speech of welcome.

  There came a smothered squeak, and then a chorus of angry whispering broke out behind her as one of the page boys lining up beneath the long dragon bodies trod on another’s toes. A skirmish was just about to break out when Reika silently appeared, glowering at the miscreants, and an uncanny hush instantly ensued.

  “Let us honor Himiko, our First Empress, founder of the imperial house and protector of all Cipangu, in music and dance,” announced Abbot Genko, “as is our tradition.”

  The musicians struck up. Ayaka’s heart began to pound, faster than the beating of the drums. This is my cue. Prince Hotaru is watching; I have to do my very best to please him, as he suggested me over all the other court ladies for this role.

  ***

  When the final notes died away, Ayaka sank into a low bow before the emperor and empress, the jingle of the little silver bells in her headdress the only sound in the vast hall.

  The performance had passed off as if in a dream.

  Was I possessed by the Empress Himiko? Perhaps the First Empress’s spirit had entered into her too, inspiring her to dance as she had never danced before. Perhaps the atmosphere of the Tide Dragon monastery had worked a special kind of magic on her and the page boys.

  The emperor was smiling gravely and nodding in approval; behind him she caught a glimpse of Prince Hotaru and saw that he was smiling at her too, although the light was glinting on his spectacle lenses so that she could not read his expression accurately. All around the hall, the courtiers began to applaud. But she could only wonder, Did the prince really approve? Did I please him?

  The day’s rites were only just beginning; she would have to stay in costume until the ceremony on the shore had taken place. The emperor rose and, with Abbot Genko in attendance, made his way to the door, followed by the empress and Prince Hotaru, escorted by the imperial guard. Then all the courtiers joined in the procession as they headed toward the Tide Dragon temple

  ***

  Masao started awake to find himself in darkness. At first he couldn’t remember where he was, although he could hear the sound of water slapping against rocks nearby. In spite of the precarious nature of his situation – or maybe even because of it – exhaustion must have overcome him.

  “Masao,” said a familiar gentle voice, “Kurika’s gone. I can’t sense his presence any longer.”

  “Yū?” He shifted and a hot, stinging pain on the inside of his left wrist brought memory back to him. He lifted his hand to take a closer look and felt the weight of chains about both wrists, shackling him to the rocks. “We’re still in the sea cave?”

  “But Kurika’s gone. He just… disappeared. Without a word.”

  In the gloom, Masao could just make out Yūgiri’s mist-pale hair. “I don’t suppose he left us the key?” he said, vainly tugging at the shackles.

  “Hotaru wanted to make doubly sure that we didn’t get away.”

  “Hotaru didn’t hurt you, did he, Yū?” The last thing Masao remembered was seeing their captors throw Yūgiri roughly against the cave wall before forcing the shackles onto his wrists. He was afraid that the onmyōji might have seen Yūgiri as a threat and tried to subdue his powers.

  “The monks have gone too, so I think the festival must have started.” Yūgiri had not answered his question directly. But before he could ask again, the shaman said, “Ebb was here, wasn’t he, Masao?”

  “So I didn’t dream it? I thought I was hallucinating. They must have put some kind of narcotic in the inks to confuse me…”

  ***

  Ayaka shuffled off her sandals, placing them close to her mother’s; there were already so many pairs left outside the temple that she was anxious in case she never found her own again. “Don’t worry,” whispered Reika, “I’ll make sure no one else takes them.” There were too many worshippers to fit into the temple, so the doors were pulled wide open and the villagers and fishermen crowded onto the steps, trying to get a view.

  But Ayaka, as one of the dancers, was allowed a place close to the Tide Dragon shrine. Rows of monks sat cross-legged, chanting, below the two carved and lacquered statues that towered over them. Incense burners filled the shrine with scented smoke, bitter as sea brine. And glinting in the gloom were the Tide Jewels, one white, one blue, clasped in the statues’ claws.

  The deep, resonant chanting of the monks grew louder as Abbot Genko bowed before the Tide Dragon statues and Emperor Suzaku approached. Billows of incense smoke poured from the statues’ flared nostrils, so that even though everyone in the crowd strained forward to see what was happening, the emperor’s figure was hardly visible. In the clouds of smoke, the gigantic statue of the Ebb Dragon seemed to bow before the emperor, and its tight-clasped claws opened to let the Ebb Jewel drop into his outstretched hands. Even though the musicians played their loudest, beating gongs and jangling bells, they did not quite manage to drown out the sound of the creaking machinery operated (as Ayaka knew now) by hidden monks who raised and lowered the statue. When she was a little girl she had been convinced that the dragons were real and had screamed, hiding her face in her father’s robes. She was mortified every time she remembered, but her mother and the other ladies used to delight in retelling the tale, sighing and saying how adorable her reaction had been.

  The crashing of cymbals and drums grew louder as the Flood Dragon statue loomed over the emperor and let the blue Flood Jewel drop into his hands. He bowed to the statues and turned to leave the shrine, the congregation parting before him like the waves drawing back at the turn of the tide.

  This time Prince Hotaru followed his brother alone, with the empress and the court ladies a little distance behind. Everyone emerged into the bright sunlight and the hunt for sandals and shoes began; the emperor, protected by the imperial guard, had already set out on the long path that led to the sea gate. The courtiers trooped after them, then the monks and the dancers. The villagers and fishermen crowded around, already in holiday mood. Several of the young men whistled and called out, “Hey! Empress Himiko! Give us a kiss for good luck!” Ayaka drew herself up to her full height, trying to ignore them and walk in a dignified way – which was difficult when accompanied by two teams of page boys trotting alongside her under their long undulating dragon costumes, and occasionally snapping the dragon-head jaws at the little children in the crowd to make them shriek.

  ***

  The ox cart lumbered on along the cliff-top road. Kanshiro was talking about the rice and the late spring rains and Kai was half listening, his thoughts far away. Have Masao and Yūgiri caught up with Naoki?

  The afternoon haze on the horizon gradually revealed the shingled roofs and tall pagoda of the monastery and Kai felt a sudden quickening of the heart at the sight of it. The thought of seeing so many familiar faces again – Master Seishi, Abbot Genko, even Kakumyo – filled him with pleasure. This is still my true home. He hadn’t realized until now just how much he had missed the calm and the daily routine. But if I hadn’t been summoned to Kurozuro I’d never have met Sakami again…

  “Glad to be back, eh?” said Kanshiro.

  Kai nodded, still thinking of Sakami.

  “This is the closest I can take you by cart.” Kanshiro tugged on the reins and the ox obediently stopped, slowly shaking its great head as flies buzzed around it. “The cliff path here leads down to the shore,” he said, pointing toward the sea.

  “Thank you, Kanshiro; you’ve saved my
life.” As Kai swung his legs around to climb down from the cart, he heard the distant clash of cymbals and beating of drums, carried on the fresh-gusting wind off the sea. “Listen; the ceremony must have already begun.”

  I’m too late.

  Chapter 42

  The sky was clouding over and a sea mist had begun to drift across the bay. A keen, fitful breeze was blowing off the sea, making the little bells jingle on Ayaka’s headdress as she followed the emperor and Prince Hotaru onto the sands. The crowds of onlookers spread out along the shore to watch while Abbot Genko led the monks in procession to form a semicircle behind the imperial family, chanting as they walked, accompanied by Captain Kakumyo and his white-cowled warrior monks. Ayaka, worried that a sudden gust might blow her headdress off completely, clutched it with one hand, the other hand holding her skirts tightly to stop them billowing up.

  Please come quickly, Tide Dragon Lords, she prayed silently, so that I don’t have to stand here like this much longer.

  The musicians stopped playing. Even the children fell silent. Emperor Suzaku walked towards the lapping tide and bowed low to the open sea.

  “Prince Shiomitsu, Prince Shiohiru, I salute you in the name of Empress Himiko, the founder of my house. I am here to renew the sacred bond between the land and the sea. Lord of Ebb, come to my call!” He raised the white Ebb Jewel high in both hands to show the crowds before turning back to the sea.

  Ayaka squinted into the sunlight to try to see if the Ebb Dragon had risen from the waves. She waited to feel the goose bumps rise on her arms, as the strange cold wind that heralded the Tide Dragon’s appearance began to blow. Every year, as far back as she could remember, the terrifying creature had made its appearance in answer to the emperor’s summons, rearing up from the sea to draw the waves back from the shore. As a little girl, she had stared, mesmerized, as its glimmering eyes scanned the worshippers, as though searching for a familiar face.

  “Bow your head, Ayaka,” her mother had whispered, but not before she had seen a look that puzzled her in the Tide Dragon’s eyes.

  “Why does the Dragon Lord look so sad?” she had asked, only to feel her mother’s hand firmly press her head down, telling her not to be so disrespectful.

  But today she felt no warning shiver of apprehension; she shaded her eyes, gazing in vain for a glimpse of Prince Shiohiru.

  “Something’s not right,” she heard Reika murmur behind her as Abbot Genko hurried forward to consult with Emperor Suzaku.

  “Why hasn’t Ebb come?” Ayaka wondered aloud. From the mutterings in the crowd she knew she was not the only one asking that question. Glancing back at the emperor from her privileged position, she saw that his face was glistening with sweat.

  “If I have angered you in any way, Lord of Ebb, I beg your forgiveness.” There was a distinct tremor in his voice as he handed the Ebb Jewel to Abbot Genko and held aloft the blue Flood Jewel in its stead. “I call on you, Lord of Flood, to renew the bond between Cipangu and the lords of the sea.”

  “Have the Tide Dragons abandoned us?” Ayaka turned to Reika, puzzled. “Did I do something wrong in the dance?”

  ***

  Kai gazed down at the shore far below. The beach, usually empty but for a few fishermen, was filled with people in bright-hued festival clothes. There was Abbot Genko – and behind him, Kakumyo and his white-hooded warrior monks. He could even see Emperor Suzaku, resplendent in his purple and gold-embroidered ceremonial robes, standing on the edge of the shore, a gentle tide lapping close to his feet.

  So where’s Naoki? Has the emperor gone ahead with the ceremony without the Tide Jewels? He could sense no hint of Flood’s presence; the Flood seal on his wrist was still translucent, barely visible even in daylight. I don’t understand…

  Kanshiro suddenly tapped him on the shoulder. “Look at the temple, Kaishin. Are my old eyes deceiving me – or is it on fire?”

  Fire.

  Kai rubbed his eyes and looked again. It’s not a mirage. He could see the flicker of flames, pale against the peerless blue of the afternoon sky; the topmost roof of the temple pagoda was alight. A rising plume of smoke besmirched the clear air, speckled with fiery motes, a cloud of sparks that glimmered like fireflies.

  “That’s a bad omen,” said the old man, shaking his head.

  “If there are still worshippers in the temple…” Kai left the thought unfinished and climbed down from the cart. With the fresh wind gusting off the sea, the flames could soon spread to the wooden roofs of the nearby monastery buildings.

  “Look at that cloud of sparks.” The old farmer was jabbing one gnarled forefinger toward the blaze. “In this fierce wind, they’ll catch the village roofs alight. And the tents of the rich folk outside the walls.”

  “And if the village catches alight, the flames could spread to the rice fields… I’ve got to go get help.” Kai set off down the cliff path, shading his eyes against the glare reflected off the waves to scan the shore below.

  The monastery bell began to ring out a warning, its deep, bronzed tones rolling out over the cliffs.

  Chapter 43

  The bitter smell of burning wood began to drift across the cliffs.

  “The temple’s on fire!” A monk was running down the cliff path toward the shore, shouting and pointing back at the burning temple. Others in the crowd turned to look and took up the shout.

  And then there was uproar. Ayaka watched in consternation as panic set in. Women shrieked, scooping up little children, the Imperial Guard surrounded the emperor, while the courtiers called for their servants to protect them from the surge of fleeing villagers.

  “Everyone stay calm!” Captain Kakumyo began to issue orders to his warriors in a loud rasping voice. “Leave this to us.”

  Ayaka was so close to the emperor that she could not help but hear his despairing words as he turned to his brother. “This is a disaster, Hotaru. What shall I do?”

  To her surprise, the prince held out his hands and said, “Let me try to summon the Tide Dragons to extinguish the fire.”

  “You?” Suzaku hesitated. “Why would you succeed where I’ve failed?”

  “Just let me try…”

  “Very well.” The emperor placed the Tide Jewels in Hotaru’s upturned palms.

  Hotaru bowed low as he received them. Then, pushing back his wide embroidered sleeves, he held high the blue Flood Jewel. “Prince Shiomitsu, I call on you, Lord of Flood, to renew the bond between Cipangu and the lords of the sea.”

  Ayaka held her breath. A chill shaft of wind seared through her, making her shiver violently.

  “My lady?” Reika said, putting one arm around her waist to support her.

  “Can’t you feel it, Reika?” Ayaka said, gripping her maid’s shoulder to keep herself from falling. “The tide’s on the turn. Flood is coming to save us.”

  ***

  Kurika had done his work too well. Naoki coughed as the acrid smoke from the burning temple stung the back of his throat. Over the hiss and crackle of the flames devouring the timbers he could hear the constant clanging of the monastery’s alarm bell. The heat was almost too much to endure. But he could only stand there uselessly, staring, trapped yet again in the fiery nightmare that had brought his childhood to an abrupt end.

  All around him monks and villagers were trying to douse the flames with buckets of water but the fire had taken too strong a hold. And it was spreading; the roof of the nearby infirmary could soon be ablaze. He wanted to run away but his legs would not move. Fear had deprived him of all power of movement.

  ***

  “Let’s move to higher ground, my lady.”

  Ayaka stared at Reika, hardly registering what she was saying. For the sea had begun to seethe and churn, as if a storm wind was whipping up great breakers further out.

  “Get the emperor to safety!” ordered Lord Nagamoto, and several of the Imperial Guard hurried past to hustle the bemused Suzaku toward the cliff path. “And the prince too. Ayaka, come with me.”

&
nbsp; “I must stay here, Minister,” said Hotaru, “to face what I’ve summoned from the deep.”

  “No!” Ayaka cried. “I won’t go without you, your highness.”

  “Please, my lady,” repeated Reika firmly, tugging on her arm. “Let’s follow your mother.”

  ***

  Clouds of smoke were pouring from the burning temple as the fire caught hold, obscuring Kai’s view of the beach. The precious woods inside, imbued with natural oils and painted with lacquer, must be feeding the flames, which leapt higher as the monastery bell dinned on. The festival crowds were fleeing in confusion, the courtiers stumbling as they tried to climb the steep cliff path, hampered by their fine ceremonial gowns and delicate sandals. But Kakumyo and his men had already reached the top, disappearing into the smoky haze.

  “Flood,” Kai said, “you made me a promise that night. If you’re ever in danger again, play that flute and I will come.” He took the flute from his belt and lifted it to his lips.

  “No, Kaito!” A pale, slender hand appeared, knocking the flute away. Astonished, he saw that Inari had appeared in front of him. “The shore’s filled with people. If you call Flood now, they’ll all be drowned.”

  “But I can’t let the temple burn.” This choking feeling of helplessness was more than he could bear. “I can’t just stand here and watch. Is there nothing I can do?”

  His wrist began to burn. Flood’s jeweled colors were glowing beneath his skin, becoming more intense as the throbbing increased.