Emperor of the Fireflies Read online

  But then the gray dusk turned blindingly bright as flames burst from Kurika’s clawing talons and all was searing pain and heat. The last thing he saw as Hotaru toppled forward was a cloud of fireflies floating around him, each little pinprick of fiery light a fleck of gold against the gray sky.

  ***

  “Don’t look.” Kai pulled Ayaka toward him, hiding her face in his shoulder. He could not bear to look too closely himself as Kurika set the emperor alight.

  He heard Masao murmur under his breath in horror as Hotaru screamed. Staggering, still alight, to the edge of the pool, the emperor toppled into the water with a sizzling splash. The burning body thrashed as the flames were extinguished in the bubbling water and then lay still.

  “He saved me,” Ayaka said into Kai’s shoulder. “Hotaru saved me.”

  “But did he destroy Kurika?” Kai gazed toward the cave entrance where the masterless shikigami still stood, gazing down at his human form, examining the scarlet-and-black seal, just as Kai himself had done earlier that afternoon, with the same obsessive concentration.

  He’s the same as us. When – if – the seal fades, will he fade too? Or will he be free?

  He glanced across to Sakami who still stood on guard, holding Foxfire-Fang. He had never seen her look so determined or so fierce before; her stance reminded him of a wild vixen crouched, ready to fight to defend its cubs.

  Inari help us all, if he has been set free – all we have is Foxfire-Fang to protect us.

  And as Kai watched, breath held back, he saw the glowing seal dim to an emberlight and then disappear.

  Chapter 67

  Sakami forced herself to dash right past the emperor’s charred corpse where it lay, face down in the pool.

  Don’t look. Don’t think about it.

  Sword raised, she hurtled toward Kurika, jabbing at him in a frenzy of furious little stabs. And, to her surprise, he began to retreat, backing into the cave.

  Once inside, she was almost overcome by heat; it was as hot as a furnace. It had to be the heat emanating from Kurika’s body – but where was he? All she could see was pitch blackness.

  It’s a trap.

  Foxfire-Fang began to give off a clear radiance, illuminating the low-hanging rocks beneath which she and the saltpeter collectors had first found its fragments.

  Kurika swung around to confront her, black talons fully unsheathed, dragon talons, hooked and cruel.

  I’m faster than he is. If I can only endure the heat long enough to strike home –

  One powerful swipe knocked her sideways, sending her tumbling through the air, over and over, until she was so dizzy she almost dropped the sword.

  The furious screaming bark of a dog fox echoed around the cave; Honou in full kitsune form, tails blazing, leapt in front of her, snarling at Kurika.

  “Lady Inari!” She heard her own voice crying out for help. “We can’t do this alone!”

  Kurika came at her again. With one sweep of his taloned hand, he swept Honou aside. Sakami heard Honou’s involuntary yelp as he was slammed into the cave wall. The light of his tails flickered and dimmed.

  “Honou,” she whispered.

  Now there was nothing between her and Kurika – except for Foxfire-Fang.

  “Why did you burn our shrine?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but the heat of his breath was so fierce she could feel them start to sizzle and steam. “Why can’t you live in peace alongside the mortals?”

  “This is my mountain.” His burning breath was making it hard to breathe; she was stifling. “You and your damned mortals are trespassing. Infesting my territory. If you won’t leave, I’ll just have to force you out.”

  “Never.” But as he loomed closer she saw by Foxfire-Fang’s light the place on Kurika’s left breast where the Sacrifice seal had been; the scaly skin looked tender and raw. Was the emperor’s threat true, in part? Is that Kurika’s weak spot? If only I could aim there –

  He suddenly reached out, clawing for her throat – and a blindingly white light lit the cave. Sakami sensed Inari materialize beside her as Kurika, dazzled, flung up his arm to shield his eyes.

  “Now, Sakami!” Inari cried.

  Sakami thrust Foxfire-Fang with all her strength into his body, piercing the raw place where Hotaru’s Sacrifice seal had once glowed.

  The agonized cry that tore from his throat made the earth tremble beneath her feet but still she forced the blade deep, deeper into his writhing body until he was pinned, thrashing and squirming, into the rock of the cavern. Burning black dragon blood spurted from the wound in scalding gouts but still she gripped the hilt, ramming the blade through scale, flesh and bone.

  “Now you and your mountain are one.” Her voice was hoarse from the smoke and her own anger. “I have fulfilled your wish, Kurika. Now you are joined together forever.”

  As he continued to struggle, Inari placed her hands over Sakami’s, pouring her sacred power down through the sword blade and into Kurika’s body until the crazed fiery eyes began to glaze over, their angry light slowly dimming –

  The cave floor began to tremble.

  Sakami stood, dazed, staring at the body of the fallen kami, dark head now slumping sideways as a tracery of blue traveled outwards from the sacred blade, spreading through the veins of his black-scaled body like the filaments of a spider web.

  The rumbling grew louder as the ground juddered beneath her feet.

  “Sakami.”

  She felt a sharp nip and woke to see Honou, battered and bleeding but still very much alive.

  “We’ve got to get out.”

  She let go of the hilt of Foxfire-Fang. Honou grabbed her by the wrist, tugging her to the cave entrance, flinging her outside just as rocks began to fall, sending up a great cloud of dust. And as the dust settled, she realized that the entrance was completely blocked. In front of it stood Inari, both hands raised high, murmuring a powerful sealing spell; Sakami could just make out more of the glistening blue filaments she had seen inside, forming an invisible yet impenetrable barrier .

  But as she watched, Inari’s form began to shimmer. Sakami blinked and looked again, wondering if her own sight was failing or whether the air was still smirched with a fine veil of smoke and dust.

  “Lady Inari – are you all right?” It sounded such a stupid question to ask of a powerful kami but the more she stared at Inari, the more the goddess seemed to be fading.

  Inari stretched out her hands to her. Instinctively Sakami moved forward, wanting to be by her side.

  “Sakami,” Inari said, her voice faint, “you are my youngest child. You and Honou have worked tirelessly to protect the mountain. Please continue to protect it when I am gone.”

  “Gone?” Sakami echoed. “Where are you going? Don’t leave us.” She had lost her mother to the flames. Now it felt as if she was losing her a second time. “What will we do without you to protect us? What about the rice harvest?”

  A wistful smile appeared on Inari’s lips. “I remember asking that question myself, of the old Inari, many years ago. . .”

  “And you took his place.”

  “He was fading. . .and I had to find some way to make good the damage Flood and I had caused: the famine, the disease, the deaths. . .” A soft, shuddering sigh escaped her and Sakami leaned closer, fearing that her mistress was already gone. Honou limped over and knelt beside her.

  “What’s wrong, Lady?”

  “Dear Honou.” Inari raised a hand to gently pat his russet head – and to Sakami’s distress, she saw that the slender fingers were becoming transparent, just as her own body had when she strayed too far away from the mountain. “I overreached myself. Now I’m paying the price. . .”

  “If you need life energy, take mine,” he said, leaning in close, his voice hoarse, earnest. Sakami saw that he was fighting back tears. Honou, the carefree trickster, who only ever seemed interested in the next available meal or the nearest pretty girl. . .

  “It’s too late,” Inari said. It seemed to cos
t her much effort to string the words together, “And. . .I’m weary. Harvest after harvest without number. . . And now that Lord Kaoru is no longer in this world, I would like to follow him into whatever lies beyond.”

  “But if you leave, what will become of us, your kitsune?” Sakami wanted to know. “Will we vanish too? What use will we be without you? We need Inari.”

  “Then who will become Inari in my stead?” Inari stared directly at Sakami. “Who has the courage and the love for humanity in all its frailty. . .to take on the mantle?”

  “M-me?” Sakami realized what Inari was asking of her. The enormity of the challenge was almost beyond her imagination.

  “You understand what it is to be mortal. You’re young in kitsune years and strong-willed. I have great hopes of you.”

  “But to become Inari, I’d have to leave Kai behind.” Sakami glanced over to where Kai stood at Ayaka’s side as she wept over Hotaru’s body. She felt a dull ache in her chest as she saw the caring way he was looking at her. Memories flickered through her mind: Kai salving her blistered foot; Kai playing his flute in the castle tower; Kai giving her the precious comb she still wore in her hair. . .

  “You can never give him children. . . You’re a shapeshifter now.” Lady Chinatsu’s words had seemed so harsh at the time but now she understood that they had been kindly meant.

  “Is this my destiny?” she asked Inari. “If I accept, will I lose my mortal memories?”

  “No,” Inari said, her voice growing fainter, “but they will lose their potency. As the years pass, they will seem like half-remembered dreams.”

  “Have I time to say farewell to everyone?” Even as she asked the question, she knew that she meant Kai.

  “You’re not going to disappear,” and Inari reached out to catch hold of her hand, “you’re going to be here still. . .but in an altered state.”

  ***

  A gray dusk was settling over the hot springs, mist and steam mingling into drifting wisps floating across the water. As he stood protectively at Ayaka’s side, Kai became aware that the soft light emanating from Inari was dimming too. He turned and saw that her body, one hand gently resting on Honou’s head, the other on Sakami’s, was becoming translucent.

  “Lady Inari – ?”

  Inari stroked Honou’s face as he looked up to gaze at her and Kai heard him choke back a sob. Then she turned to Sakami and, cupping her face in her hands, kissed her on the forehead, the eyelids, then the lips, a long, lingering kiss, as if. . .

  Too late, Kai understood what he was witnessing.

  “Sakami!” He ran across the rocky ground toward them but even as he ran, he saw Inari’s light dwindling and Sakami’s slight body beginning to exude the pure, pale radiance of the rice goddess.

  Inari was fast fading to a pale shadow. As he approached, he heard her breathe, “Farewell.” And she was gone.

  The light radiating from Sakami’s body suddenly became unbearably bright. Kai sank to one knee, arm upraised to shield his eyes. He heard Naoki and Masao’s astonished reactions from behind him in the gathering gloom. The air filled with a strange rippling hiss as if even the trees and bushes on the mountainside were reacting to the passing of their goddess.

  Kai dared to look at Sakami: within the cocoon of light, she was standing with her arms outstretched, her eyes closed, as if trying to call Lady Inari back.

  “Sakami,” Kai said again, his voice breaking. “What have you done?”

  She opened her eyes and gazed at him. “What I had to do, Kai,” she said. At least she knew him. But her voice sounded different; detached, distant. “This is where our paths divide. You must live your life to the full. There are people here who need you.”

  “But I need you too.” He heard what she was telling him but he did not, could not understand it. “Thanks to you, I’m free at last. If you hadn’t worked so hard to find the pieces of the sacred sword. . .” He stumbled over the words as the full import of what she had done became clear to him but tried to continue. “You made all that possible.”

  “Kai,” she said, “you once struck a bargain with Lady Inari to bring me back to life. A bargain that cost you dear. Now I’ve repaid that debt – to you both.”

  “B-but I thought we could be together.”

  She shook her head and her face was transfigured by a sad, sweet smile. “I’ll always be with you, Kai, but I’m going to be very busy. . .”

  She came toward him, drifting like the wisping mist off the pool, and took his hand in hers. “Can you forgive me, Kai?”

  He looked into her eyes and saw what he had been unable to admit to himself: she was no longer “his” Sakami but transformed, deified.

  “I’ll never forget you,” he said, his voice breaking as tears blurred his sight. First his mother, now Sakami was leaving him; it all seemed too much to bear.

  She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, her lips cool and soft.

  “You’re going to need to find a new miko for my shrine,” she said with a hint of Sakami’s old playfulness. “I would have suggested Mami, but I think she’s going to be busy caring for the baby she’s expecting next spring.”

  Just an innocent little remark, yet enough to distract him. “A baby?”Who’s the father?

  But then another sound, a pattering, as of many soft paws and the rustle of many feathery tails could be heard. Night had fallen but the darkness was suddenly illuminated with the soft glow of kitsune tails and bright eyes as a host of spirit foxes came hurrying toward Sakami. Honou rose to his feet and, amber eyes glinting dangerously, flaunted his own tails, blue with foxfire.

  “It’s all right, Honou,” Sakami said. “They’ve come to greet me. So many new friends. . .” And as the kitsune swarmed around her, glimmering tails gently swishing, Kai saw how Sakami’s expression softened in wonder and delight.

  “It seems there’s a harvest festival down on the plain,” she said to Kai, “and my presence is required. Coming, Honou?”

  “Only if there’s plenty of fried tofu and dango dumplings,” said Honou. “I’m famished.”

  Sakami laughed. She turned to go and then looked back over her shoulder at Kai. “Tell Shun I’ll visit him as soon as I can,” she said. “Farewell, till then, Kai.”

  “Farewell,” Kai said, “dear Lady Inari.”

  And then her escort of kitsune swept her up and away and the soft glow faded, so that the night seemed all the more dark once she was gone.

  Chapter 68

  Inari’s soft luminescence disappeared and the barren, rocky ground surrounding the hot springs was plunged into darkness. Kai blinked, trying to adapt his sight to the gloomy night, gazing up to the sky, in the hope that the moon would make an appearance. It was cold, too, as the fierce heat generated by Kurika had swiftly dispersed, and he felt his teeth begin to chatter.

  A smothered sob came from the edge of the pool.

  “Ayaka?” He had been so absorbed in Sakami’s transformation that he had forgotten about everyone else. He felt guilty for having neglected her and slowly began to negotiate his way toward her through the pitch black.

  She gave a sniff. “Sorry.” He could just make out her outline; the silver threads in her festival robe glimmered faintly as the full moon briefly reappeared from behind fast-scudding clouds.

  She was still kneeling at the water’s edge beside Hotaru’s scorched body. He put his arms around her and she didn’t resist or protest, resting her head against his shoulder.

  “We should have been at the Autumn Moon Festival tonight,” she said, her voice muffled.

  He wished he could find adequate words to comfort her but he felt drained and empty. All he could do was hold her close, silently offering the warmth of his own body.

  “It’s too dark to risk going down the mountain tonight. We’re going to have to stay here till dawn.”

  ***

  “Naoki.” Masao knelt beside his brother, anxiously checking for a pulse at throat and wrist. He raised Naoki’s head
and shoulders, supporting him against himself, wondering how much harm Kurika had caused by his willful, brutal possession. Even if Naoki regained consciousness, his mind might have been irreparably damaged. And as he was wondering how he could begin to explain what had happened to Lord Toshiro, he heard a faint groan escape Naoki’s lips.

  “Naoki – can you hear me?” The fitful moonlight shone through the fast-moving clouds. Naoki’s closed lids fluttered, then opened a chink, staring bemusedly up at him. His brother raised one hand to touch his cheek and Masao flinched involuntarily as cold fingers brushed against the raw burn.

  “I did that,” Naoki said in a whisper. “I’m. . . sorry, Masao. I was not. . .in my right mind.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Masao had put up with worse from Naoki when they had scrapped as boys. He rested his forehead against his brother’s head for a moment, relieved beyond words. “As long as you’re back in your right mind now –” He broke off, detecting a sudden flicker of movement on the edge of the pool. His katana lay far out of reach. It had been too soon to lower his guard; all four of them were exhausted and vulnerable to attack.

  A fleet-footed shadow darted out of the cover of the trees.

  Masao, readying himself to make a dash to retrieve his blade, recognized the familiar feathery aura of the Kite Shadow and relaxed.

  Yoriaki alighted before him and Naoki, followed by two of the Red Kite shinobi, all three respectfully dropping to one knee.

  “Lord Masao,” Yoriaki said, his usually imperturbable expression riven with surprise. “Is Lord Naoki – ?”

  “Just winded.” Naoki struggled to sit up with Masao’s help.

  “What happened up here?” Yoriaki indicated the rock fall that had sealed the entrance to the saltpeter cave. “We saw the forest fire from the shore – and then the flashes of lightning. We did not expect to find you here, my lord. Lords,” he corrected, glancing again at Masao as if he did not quite trust the evidence of his eyes. And then his gaze slid past them, fixing on the body in the pool and Kai and Ayaka, huddled together beside the water’s edge.