Soul of the Sword Page 15

  However, when I opened my door, I came face-to-face with my maid. Even with a full tea tray in her hands, I hadn’t heard her approach; it was like she’d materialized out of thin air, or had learned to hover over the ground like a yurei ghost when she walked.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed, taking a quick step back as if startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming out. Please excuse me, miss.” She bobbed her head and slipped past me into the room, averting her eyes as she did, and put the tea on the low table. I watched her suspiciously, looking for any sign that she might’ve been spying on us, but she acted perfectly normal.

  “Is there anything else you need?” she asked, still keeping her gaze demurely on the floor as she straightened. “If I can fetch you anything, you have but to ask.”

  “Ano,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. The maid, who had been ready to leave, glanced up at me curiously. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never been inside a castle before,” I went on, looking away as if embarrassed. “I’m not sure…I mean, could you show me…where the toilets are?”

  “Oh.” The maid smiled and relaxed. “Of course. Please, follow me.”

  “Thank you.”

  We slipped from the room, and I followed her down the narrow hallways, passing a few samurai and servants in black. Even though it was quite late, there were still a lot more people up and about than I would have thought. Perhaps they disliked the sunlight. Perhaps the Shadow Clan preferred doing most of their business in the dark like owls or bats. In any case, none of them paid us any attention, though I could still feel eyes on me in the hall and all the way down the stairs to the lower floor. The maid led me to a room with a stone floor and several stalls made of wood. In the center of each, a narrow rectangular pit dropped down into pitch-blackness.

  “Shall I stay, miss?” the maid asked, sounding reluctant but trying not to show it. “Do you need to be shown the way back?”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” I told her, and watched relief flit over her face. “I should be all right from here. Thank you.”

  The maid left quickly, and I smiled, mincing my way into one of the stalls. Here, at least, I was fairly certain no one would be spying on me.

  Huddled against the wall with the pit at my feet, I fished into my furoshiki and withdrew two more of the small, slightly crushed leaves I’d picked up before we arrived at the castle.

  Sometimes you’re very cranky, Reika-chan, I thought, placing one leaf on my head. But I guess I have to thank you for this.

  A puff of white smoke filled the toilet stall. As it cleared, I shook away the tendrils and took a quick glance at myself, seeing a simple robe and a pair of slender hands clutching a tea tray. Nodding once in satisfaction, I exited the stall and strode into the hall.

  All right, I thought, gazing around. A samurai rushed past me with a curt grunt, ducking into one of the stalls. I quickly moved away from the toilets before I started hearing things I’d rather not. And also before he could wonder why I was holding a tea tray while going to the toilet. Where could Daisuke and baka Okame have gotten off to? Maybe I’ll check their rooms first, in case they left anything behind.

  Holding the tray, I made my way back to our quarters, taking care not to get lost in the labyrinthine maze of corridors and passageways. More servants and a few samurai passed me in the passages, none of whom gave me a second glance.

  I slid open the door to what I was certain was one of our rooms, though I wasn’t sure whose yet, and looked around. It was empty, and I turned to leave.

  However, as I slipped out the door, I felt a firm grip on my upper arm. With a yelp, I spun and came face-to-face with the older servant, who glared at me with hard black eyes.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, with none of the cool politeness she’d shown me earlier. “You are not supposed to be here now. I sent you to the kitchens for Hanarisan’s tea. Why aren’t you at your station?”

  “I…um…the girl asked me to show her the way to the toilets,” I stammered, earning an annoyed huff from the other woman. Before she could say anything, I added, “She also wanted to know where her two missing companions were, and when they would return. What should I tell her if she asks again?”

  The woman sighed. “The last I heard, the Taiyo and the yojimbo had left the castle and were heading toward the Lucky Frog gambling hall on the east side of town. Our shinobi are tracking them as we speak, but they are not important.”

  “Oh.” I kept the puzzled frown from my face. But, Reika said that no one had seen Daisuke or Okame leave the castle. Are they deliberately trying to mislead us?

  “Do not let the girl leave.” The woman gave me a warning scowl. “The others can come and go as they wish, but Masao-sama was very specific that the peasant girl not be allowed to leave the castle until Lord Iesada returns to his own lands. It could be dangerous if she goes into the city, or anyplace our shinobi cannot keep an eye on her. If she asks where the men are again, tell her they went to visit the Painted Smile geisha house for the evening. That should keep her from venturing after them. Now, go.” She gestured firmly down the hall. “Return to your duties. You are wasting time loitering about.”

  I bobbed a quick bow and hurried away in the direction she pointed, my mind spinning with this new information.

  Well, that confirmed what I’d suspected since arriving here. The walls did have eyes and ears. There was probably a shinobi lurking by the toilets right now, waiting to see when I would come out. That thought made me snicker, but it did present a problem. I needed to go outside to look for Daisuke and Okame, but the Kage didn’t want me to leave the castle. If they saw me leave, they would likely stop me.

  If they saw me.

  Slipping into an empty room, I made certain I was alone before pulling the third and final leaf from my obi and placing it on my head, letting fox magic engulf me again. When the smoke cleared, I did a quick scan of my white haori and red hakama, making sure everything was in place. Now, if anyone spotted me, they would see a no-nonsense, very determined shrine maiden, and hopefully not get in her way. The only thing missing was Chu, and I hoped the Kage would not notice or care that the miko was without her dog.

  All I had to worry about was running into Reika herself.

  I shivered. Quickly, I slipped from the room and began striding down the hallway, searching for a way out, while keeping one ear open for the click of dog nails on the hardwood floors.

  After a couple inquires using my best Firm Reika Voice, I finally found the front entrance to the castle, where across a vast hall of polished wood and onyx statues, a pair of huge double doors stood half-open. Two samurai guarded either side of the large frame, flickering lantern light gleaming off their black armor and tall yari spears. They eyed me with stoic interest as I approached, but didn’t move to block my path, though one gave me a stern look as I walked toward them.

  “Going into the city?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “You are welcome to leave,” the samurai told me, “so long as you do not cause trouble within Ogi Owari Toshi. Be advised, you are under Kage law, and all who break the rules of the Shadow Clan will be dealt with accordingly.” He gave a solemn nod of his head. “Have a pleasant evening, and please be safe while in the city.”

  I smiled at him and escaped into the cool air of the outside.

  My sandals crunched against gravel as I made my way across the courtyard, toward the front gates of the high stone wall surrounding the castle. Aside from my footsteps, the night was quiet and still. From the position of the moon overhead, it was very early morning, perhaps a few hours until dawn. I glanced over my shoulder once to see Hakumei castle towering behind me, the main keep standing rigid against the navy sky, tiled pagoda roofs sweeping gracefully upward. Much like its people, the Shadow Clan’s home castle was elegant and ominous, beautiful and menacing at the same time. I wondered if that was deliberate, to remind the rest of the world that though the Kage were proud and cultured lik
e the rest of the clans, they were not to be trifled with.

  Shaking off my morbid musings, I continued walking, the shadow of Hakumei-jo swallowing me even as I moved away from it. Past the barren but meticulously groomed courtyard, I reached the large front gates, which stood open and were guarded by more samurai, none of whom said anything to me. After passing beneath the huge wooden frame, I paused just outside the gate and gazed down the road in wonder.

  Hakumei castle sat on a hill overlooking what I assumed was the city of Ogi Owari. Down the winding road from the front gates and across an arched stone bridge over a wide, sleepy river, the Kage capital glimmered with torch and lantern light. It sprawled in every direction, rows of houses sitting primly along the streets and the banks of the canals that cut through the city. Large trees were interspersed among the buildings, branches draped over roofs and hanging in the streets, as if the city reluctantly shared the space with a forest, and neither were willing to back down.

  With an eager smile, I hurried down the road, crossed the bridge and entered the city. Despite the late hour, it was far from empty. People wandered the roads, shop doors stood open against the night, and merchants lurked in doorways or manned wooden stalls, waiting for customers. At first, it reminded me of another, smaller town, Chochin Machi, which also came to life and thrived when the sun went down. But as I continued through the streets, I began to see the differences. Chochin Machi had a bright, almost festive feel to it, encouraging visitors to dance and smile and leave their troubles behind. Though it was lit up and busy, Ogi Owari Toshi was definitely not festive. No one in the streets smiled or laughed; often an individual or small group would stagger down the road, as if they had no control of their limbs. Sometimes, people sang or argued with each other, their voices slurred and unsteady like their legs. A large man, clutching a sake gourd like Okame’s, called out to me in a garbled voice and then rumbled a laugh, making my tail bristle. It wasn’t a very nice laugh. Much like the city, it held the edge of something ominous beneath the veneer of frivolity, a smiling illusion over a patiently waiting predator.

  Pausing at a crossroads marked by a large, twisted maple tree, I glanced up at the moon through the branches, noting its position and that the night was rapidly slipping away from me. All right, I’m here. Now, I have to find this gambling hall; the Dancing Frog or Lucky Frog or something like that. So, where am I? A sign, tacked to the trunk beneath the large rope that marked the tree as sacred, read Beware of Bad Fortune, which told me nothing at all.

  “What are you doing near my tree, fox?”

  With a start, I looked up and saw a pair of green eyes staring at me from a limb. For a second, they appeared to float in the air, but then I saw they were attached to the lean, furry body of a neko—a common cat—lying on a tree branch, its glossy black fur blending perfectly with the shadows. An extremely long, slinky tail lashed its hindquarters as its gaze met mine. As I watched, a second tail rose from behind the neko to twine with the first, making my eyes widen. I didn’t know much about cats, but in kitsune lore, the more tails a fox had, the older and more powerful it was. The strongest kitsune in existence were called ninetails, for in the stories, when a fox grew its ninth tail, its fur would turn silver or gold, and it would possess magic to rival the gods themselves.

  Of course, a ninetailed fox was a creature of legend, as rare as a dragon or the sacred kirin. To meet a kitsune with even two tails was a great honor, though I wasn’t sure the same custom extended to the feline world. Still, it was probably wise to be polite. Cats had never spoken to me; the old black-and-white feline at the Silent Winds temple had merely tolerated my presence, and after all the times I’d used him for a prank, if he could have spoken, he would have told me off numerous times. But neko were strange, fickle creatures, and you never knew what they were thinking. If one day that old cat had started speaking to me, I wouldn’t have been shocked at all.

  The cat in the tree curled its whiskers and wrinkled its nose. “Ugh, I can smell your stink from here,” she remarked. “Leave this place, kitsune. You belong in the fields with the rabbits and bears and the rest of the common forest dwellers. Go back to plaguing farmers and fishermen outside the city walls, and leave the civilized places to us.” When I didn’t move or reply, she flattened her ears. “Are you simple as well as repulsive?” she asked. “I shall speak slowly so your barbaric forest brain can comprehend. You have no place here, fox. This is my territory, and you are making it unbearable. Go away.”

  “There’s no need to be rude.” I frowned at her. “I’m just visiting Kage lands, I’ll be gone soon enough. Besides, you’re mistaken. I didn’t grow up in a field, I grew up in a temple. I can read and write, and even eat with chopsticks. Can you?”

  The neko sniffed, twitching her tail. “Giving a monkey chopsticks and dressing it in a fancy kimono does not make it civilized,” she said in a bored voice. “So you have learned a few tricks. Congratulations. You are still a fox. Your ancestors chased rabbits and defecated on the floor of their dens, as all wild creatures will.”

  “And what about you?” I demanded. “Your ancestors probably chased mice and mated under the full moon. You’re not any more civilized than I am.”

  “Is that so?” The cat slitted her eyes, regarding me lazily, and turned her head. “Do you see that fish vendor over there?” she asked, pointing with a flick of one of her tails. “I can walk into his shop, twitch my ears and he throws me his leftover fish guts. If you are so civilized, kitsune, why don’t you change forms and do the same? Become a fox, and let us see how he reacts.”

  For one crazy moment, I considered it, then shook my head. “No, this is ridiculous. I don’t have time to be standing under a tree arguing with a cat. I have to find the Lucky Frog.”

  “The gambling hall?” The neko tilted her head. “Why would you want to go there, fox? Nothing to see but loud, shouting men who reek of sake. Although, they would certainly find your company more pleasant than I.”

  I looked up at her again, pricking my ears. “You know where it is?”

  “This is my territory.” She waved her tails in an arrogant manner. “I know where everything is.”

  “Would you take me there?”

  The neko sneezed several times. After a moment I realized she was laughing at me. “Why in the name of the Split-tailed Marauder would I do that?” she finally asked. “Do I look like a fawning, slobbering dog that does everything the humans say?”

  “No, you look like a cat,” I said, confused. “Why would I mistake you for a dog? You said you knew where everything is in your territory. I thought you could show me the way.”

  “I could,” said the cat, and settled more comfortably on the tree branch. “But I won’t.”

  “Nani? Why not?” I scowled, falling silent as a man walked by the tree, giving me a quizzical look. “Are you doing something else?” I whispered after he’d passed. “Something important?”

  “Very important.” The neko gave one tail a languid wave. “I am sitting in this tree observing all that goes on in my territory. It is an essential part of my night, something a common field fox would not understand.” She yawned, showing a flash of long yellow teeth, before closing her eyes. “Now, be gone and leave me in peace. I find everything about you offensive.”

  I pinned my ears at the arrogant creature. Stupid neko. How would Okame or Reika-san handle this?

  I thought about it a moment, then stepped back. “I see. Well, thank you for your time, neko-san. It’s all right if you don’t know where it is. I can find my way there on my own.”

  “Didn’t you hear me, field fox?” The neko opened her eyes and peered down at me. “I said I know where it is, I just have no interest in taking you there.” I didn’t answer, and her gaze narrowed. “I know what you are doing,” she warned, as her tails began an agitated thump-thump against the branch. “Your little kitsune tricks will not work on me. I have no interest in playing tour guide to a common field fox, now begone.”


  I shrugged. “As you say, neko-san. I’m sure I can find someone who knows the way. Have a good evening.”

  I stepped away from the trunk, and the cat hissed. “Halt, forest creature,” she ordered, making me pause and glance back. Lashing her tails, the neko rose and leaped out of the branch, landing without a sound at the base.

  “Do not speak to me,” she said, stalking past with both tails held high. “I am not helping you, I am merely proving that I know every inch of my territory and that you are a barbaric forest creature who does not belong here. Follow if you must, but not too close, and try to stay downwind. I do not wish to smell you the entire way to the gambling hall.”

  I hid a smile and followed my surly guide into the shadowy back alleys of Ogi Owari.

  The Lucky Frog gambling hall stood on a narrow street next to a textiles warehouse and a dilapidated restaurant. It was a large, two-story building with blue tiled roofs, wooden slats across the windows and a pair of burly looking men guarding the entrance. A faded sign picturing a smiling frog holding up a gold coin hung crookedly over the door.

  The neko sniffed. “There,” she stated in a tone of bored grandeur. “The Lucky Frog gambling hall, exactly where I said it would be. Now, don’t you feel foolish doubting the word of a cat, field fox?”

  “This is the Lucky Frog?” I murmured, gazing up at the rooftops, looking for odd shadows or flickers of movement that shouldn’t be there. “I hope Daisuke and Okame are all right.” Glancing down at the cat, I offered a smile and quick bow. “Thank you for escorting me here, neko-san. I’m in your debt.”

  She curled her whiskers. “As if I need the favor of a forest creature,” she said disdainfully. With a sniff, she raised her chin and turned away. “I am bored now. Do what you like, kitsune. Hopefully I will not see you again in the future. Oh, but a friendly warning. In case your pathetic human instincts could not sense it, we were being followed.”

  Alarm flickered and I looked around, though the shadows overhead were empty. “Followed? By whom?”