Shadow of the Fox Page 4
He shuffled out, closing the door behind him, but for a few minutes I sat there, the story of the Dragon’s wish swirling through my head, taunting and ominous. I’d had no idea that this temple guarded something so powerful, that Master Isao and the others were not simple monks, but the protectors of a great and terrible artifact. A prayer that could summon a god.
The Dragon is rising.
A shiver ran up my spine. Was that the reason I was here, in this room? I’d always suspected Master Isao had been testing me for something, but could never figure out what. My own future was never clear, and I’d rarely wondered about it, too preoccupied with the present and what I could do today. Deep down I’d always assumed that, when I was old enough, or brave enough, someday I would leave the Silent Winds temple. Did Master Isao expect me to become a protector of the Dragon scroll? To stay here and guard it from those who wished to summon the power of the Dragon? Forever?
I shook myself. Stay in this temple for the rest of my life, sitting on a dusty old scroll? That can’t be what he meant. I thought back to my daily lessons with Jin, learning about the outside world and what life was like beyond the temple walls. I’d never actually seen a samurai, but I’d read all about them in books and scrolls. I knew the names of the clans, their customs and the history of Iwagoto going back three hundred years. Why bother to teach me if I was just going to stay in the temple protecting a scroll? Why would Master Isao have me learn so much about a world I would never get to see?
He wouldn’t. He’s not that cruel. Wrinkling my nose, I stood and dusted off my knees, already dismissing the notion. I’m not strong; I’m not a guardian or a warrior or a ki master. I’m a kitsune who can make a teapot dance around like a loon. Besides, Master Isao has Denga, Jin, Satoshi and everyone else to protect the Dragon’s prayer. They don’t need my help.
I stepped to the door, trying to dissolve the ominous weight in the pit of my stomach. The feeling that the world had changed. That something was out there, coming closer, and I was powerless to stop it.
Stop it, Yumeko. Just because you know about the scroll doesn’t mean something will instantly pop in, trying to steal it. I flattened my ears, trying to convince myself that this was foolish, that the cold creeping up my spine was because Master Isao was a brilliant storyteller. Not an omen of what was to come. I’m being paranoid. I’ve never liked scary stories. Maybe some time in the forest will clear my head.
Bolstered, I slid the door open a crack...and met a pair of stern, unamused eyes peering at me on the other side. Silently accepting the broom from Denga-san, I trudged out of the room. By the time I had swept the floors, the verandas, the steps, the pathways, the halls and every horizontal surface inside the temple and out, the story of the scroll and the Dragon’s wish had long faded from my mind.
3
The Warrior of Shadow
The night smelled of death. Both presently and to come.
Crouched in the branches of the gnarled wisteria tree, I scanned the grounds of Lord Hinotaka’s estate, taking note of every guardsman, sentry and patrol walking the perimeter. I had been here for nearly an hour, memorizing the layout of the grounds, and had timed the patrol’s rotations to within a few seconds. Now, with the moon fully risen and the hour of the Ox reaching its peak, the light in the topmost window of the castle finally winked out.
A warm wind stirred the branches of my perch, tugging at my hair and scarf, and the faint scent of blood brushed my senses.
There was a flicker at the back of my mind, an impatient stirring that was not my own. Kamigoroshi, or rather, the demon trapped within Kamigoroshi, was restless tonight, sensing the violence about to be unleashed. The sword whose name meant godslayer had been a constant fixture in my mind as far back as I could remember, from the day I had been chosen to carry the blade. It had taken over half of my seventeen years to master the volatile weapon, and without the training and guidance of my sensei, I would have succumbed to the rage and insatiable bloodlust of the demon trapped within. It pulled at me now, urging me to draw the sword, to leap down and paint the grounds of the estate in red.
Patience, Hakaimono, I told the demon, and felt it subside, though barely. You’ll get your wish soon enough.
I crept down the branch and dropped onto the outer wall, then ran along the parapets, the ragged edge of my crimson scarf floating behind me, until I reached a point where the corner of the blue-tiled castle roof swept close to the wall. Still a good fifteen feet overhead, but I took the rope and grapple from my belt, swung it twice and hurled it toward the roof above. The clawed hook clicked softly as it caught one of the fish gargoyles on the corner, and I shimmied up the rope and onto the tiles.
Just as I pulled up the rope, a single samurai came around the castle and passed below me, patrolling the inner wall. Immediately I froze, listening to the footsteps shuffle past, and breathed slowly to control myself and my emotions. There could be no fear, no doubt or anger or regret. Nothing to give Hakaimono a foothold into my mind. If I felt anything at all, if I allowed emotion to overcome me, the demon would take control, and I would lose myself to Hakaimono’s rage and bloodlust. I was an empty vessel, a weapon for the Shadow Clan, and my only requirement was to complete my mission.
The samurai walked on. Unmoving, a shadow against the tiles, I watched until he circled around the castle and vanished from view. Then, stalking silently over the rooftop, I made my way toward the top of the keep.
As I crept toward an open window, voices echoed beyond the frame, making me tense. My pulse jumped, and Hakaimono pounced on that moment of weakness, urging me to cut them down, to silence them before I was seen. Ignoring the demon, I pressed against the wall as two men—samurai, judging by their marching footsteps—strolled past, talking in furtive tones.
“This is madness,” one was saying. “Yoji missing, and now Kentaro disappears without a trace. It’s like the very walls are swallowing us whole. And Lord Hinotaka suddenly declares the top floors off-limits?” His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “Perhaps it’s the ghost of Lady Hinotaka. There are rumors that she was poisoned—”
“Shut your fool mouth,” hissed the other. “Lady Hinotaka died tragically of an illness, nothing more. Keep that dishonorable tongue behind your teeth before it gets you into real trouble.”
“Say what you will,” the first samurai returned, sounding defensive. “This castle feels darker every day. I, for one, am happy to be mobilizing tomorrow, even if it’s a fool’s mission. Why our lord requires a dozen men to fetch an ancient artifact somewhere in the Earth Clan mountains, I do not understand.”
The voices faded and the castle was silent again. I slipped through the window and found myself in a long narrow hallway, the walls and floors made of dark wood. It was very dark; the only light came from the glow of the moon outside, and shadows clung to everything. I crept farther into the castle, senses alert for voices or approaching footsteps, but except for the two patrolling guards, the floor appeared deserted. No servants wandered the halls, no samurai played go games in their rooms or sat together drinking sake. An aura of fear hung in the air, tainting everything it touched. The demon in Kamigoroshi sensed it as well and stirred excitedly against my mind, a living shadow coiling about like a snake, eagerly anticipating what was to come.
The staircase to the last floor of the keep sat unguarded in a darkened corner of the castle, at the end of the long, narrow hallway. The aura of evil was stronger here, and tendrils of purple-black miasma trickled down the stairs, invisible to the normal human eye. The railing and wooden steps were starting to rot, and the floor around the stairs seemed blighted and weak. A white moth fluttered in from the nearby latticed window and instantly spiraled to the floor, dead.
Setting my jaw, I started up the stairs, ignoring the taint that swirled around me, trying not to breathe it in. The top floor opened up, thick wooden walls with latticed windows showing open sky. A d
ark mist writhed along the floor, coming from a pair of thick wooden doors against the opposite wall.
I walked to the doors and put a hand against the wood, feeling the sickness that warped it from the inside, then pushed it open.
A fog of purple-black corruption billowed out of the room and writhed into the air. Pausing on the threshold, I stared into the darkness. The walls and floor of the large, square room were covered in sheets of white webbing that hung from the ceiling and stuck to the floor. They wrapped around pillars and dangled from the rafters, tattered curtains rippling in the breeze. Here and there, clusters of bleached bones dangled from the webs, clinking together like grotesque wind chimes, and a few large, man-size cocoons were plastered to the walls, held immobile in the strands.
I stepped through the frame and heard the door creak shut behind me. The webbing on the floor stuck to my tabi boots, but not enough to slow me down. It rustled as I walked forward, vibrating the strands around me and rattling the bone chimes. I made no attempt to be silent. My target was here; there was no reason for stealth any longer.
A low chuckle drifted out of the darkness, soft and feminine, and the hairs on the back of my arms stood up. “I hear the patter of little male feet,” crooned a voice, echoing all around me, though I couldn’t see anything through the webs and strands. “Has Lord Hinotaka sent me another plaything? Something young and handsome, who yearns to be loved? Come to me, sweet one,” it continued in a haunting whisper, as I gripped the hilt of Kamigoroshi, feeling the demon’s savage anticipation. “I will love you. I will wrap my love around you, and never let you go.”
The last few words echoed directly overhead, just as Hakaimono gave a warning pulse in my mind. I threw myself forward on instinct, not bothering to look up, and felt something catch my jacket sleeve as I dove away. As I rolled to my feet, I spun to face a huge and bulbous form dangling from the ceiling, eight chitinous legs curled around the spot where I had been standing a moment before.
“Sneaky little man bug.”
The huge creature uncoiled its legs and dropped to the floor, clicking as it turned to face me, revealing the head and torso of a beautiful woman fused to the body of a giant spider. An elegant black-and-red kimono covered her human half but looked ridiculously small where the spider’s thorax emerged from beneath it. Looming above me, the jorogumo cocked her head and smiled, tiny black fangs sliding between full red lips.
“What’s this?” she breathed, as I dropped into a crouch and gripped the hilt of my sword. Hakaimono roared through my head, eager and vicious, sharpening my senses and making the air taste of blood. “A boy? Have you come into my lair, looking for me?” She tilted her head the other way. “You are not like the others, the men Hinotaka sends up to my lair, so proud but then so terrified. They flail like frightened crickets at first. But you...are not afraid. How delightful.”
I didn’t answer. Fear was the first thing that had been purged from my body; the most dangerous emotion of all. Fear, my sensei had taught me, was simply the body’s aversion to pain and suffering. A samurai who encountered a starving bear wasn’t afraid of the bear itself, but what the bear could do to him. He feared the claws that could rip his flesh, the teeth that could crush the life from his bones. I had been trained to withstand what many could not, the weakness beaten, burned, cut and stripped from my body, until only a weapon remained. I did not fear pain, nor did I fear death, because my life was not my own. A giant, man-eating spider woman was no more concerning than a starving bear. The worst she could do was kill me.
The jorogumo giggled. “Come then, little man bug,” she crooned, holding out slender white arms. Her voice turned soothing, almost hypnotic. It droned through my head, coiling around my will and laying spiderwebs in my mind. “I can feel the lonely desire in your heart. Let me love you. Let me ease all the worry and grief weighing down your soul. You can taste the sweetness of my kiss, and feel the softness of my embrace, before I send you gently into ecstasy.”
The jorogumo drew closer, smiling, her face filling my vision until there was nothing left. “You have the most beautiful eyes,” she purred. “Like the petals of a nightshade flower. I want to pluck them out and hang them in my parlor.” She reached down, and curved black nails touched the side of my face. “Adorable little human...we should not be strangers tonight. What is your name, man bug? Tell me your name, that I might whisper it lovingly as I devour you whole.”
I felt the demon within smile and heard my voice speaking to the spider woman, though they weren’t my words. “You already know my name.”
I drew the sword, and Kamigoroshi flared to life, bathing the room in a baleful purple glow. The jorogumo shrieked and skittered backward, her serene expression twisting with hate.
“Kamigoroshi!” she hissed, baring her fangs. Her black eyes narrowed, appraising me. “Then you are the Kage demonslayer.”
Smiling coldly, I stepped forward, feeling the sword’s power expand, filling my veins with fury and bloodlust. The jorogumo retreated, multiple legs clicking over the floor, her face pale in the flickering purple light of Kamigoroshi. “Why?” she demanded, long fingers curled into claws as she stared at me. “I have everything I want here. All I have taken are the men not loyal to Hinotaka, those he has declared unworthy to serve him. What are the lives of a few samurai to you, demonslayer?”
I didn’t answer, continuing to stalk forward, the blade pulsing in my hand. It was not my place to question the orders of my clan, or why they wanted this yokai destroyed. Though, if I had to guess, the arrival of the jorogumo within Shadow Clan territory was reason enough to act. We, the Kage family, specialized in darkness; we knew the secrets of the shadows and the creatures that lurked within better than any other clan in the empire. I was the Kage demonslayer; this was my job.
The jorogumo swelled with hatred and fury. “Wretched human,” she spat as her jaw unhinged, curved black fangs sliding between her lips. “You will not slay me as you slaughtered Yaku Hundred Eyes, or the nezumi tribe of Hana village. I’ll bite off your head and savor your blood as you slide down my throat.”
She lunged, a scuttle of yellow and black across the floor, shockingly quick for her bulk, and my senses spiked, as well. I leaped aside as one of those legs stabbed down and smashed into the wood with enough force to snap a floorboard in two. Whirling, I lashed out with Kamigoroshi, cutting through another limb in a spray of black ichor, and the jorogumo shrieked in rage.
Hakaimono howled with approval in my mind, reveling in the violence, urging me to fully release its power. I kept a tight grip on my self-control, even as I dodged the jorogumo’s furious reprisal, her long legs scything down at me as she charged. Backed into a corner, I whispered a quick incantation in the language of Shadow, and another Tatsumi split away from me as we darted in opposite directions.
The jorogumo hesitated, confused with the appearance of my reflection, giving us enough time to circle around her. Hissing, she whirled toward the Tatsumi on her left and slashed down with a leg. It passed through the reflection without pause and crashed into a pillar, and the mirror image dissolved into writhing darkness and vanished. Now behind the huge yokai, I raised Kamigoroshi and slashed it across the bulging abdomen.
Yellow ichor spattered, hissing to the floor, and the jorogumo’s scream vibrated the webs around us. “Evil human!” she shrieked, spinning to face me, leaving a dripping trail of ooze behind her. “How dare you touch my beautiful body?” She staggered, legs scrabbling for purchase, and I lunged, aiming for the spot where human and spider fused together, intending to split them in half once and for all.
The jorogumo bared her teeth as I came at her. “Curse your eyes!” she hissed, and a spray of green liquid shot from her jaws and misted into the air. I twisted aside to avoid it, but felt a spiderweb mist settle on my face, a second before my eyes started to burn. Blinking rapidly, I staggered away, keeping Kamigoroshi raised as I scrubbed at my face w
ith a sleeve. Through streaming tears, I saw a blur of yellow and black fill my vision, and slashed at it blindly. The sword edge bit into something large as the chitonous leg struck me like a mallet blow, smashing me aside. I felt Kamigoroshi tear from my grasp as I rolled over the floor, tangling myself in sticky webs before I hit the wall.
Dazed, still half-blind, with Hakaimono snarling in my head in frustration, I pushed myself upright and searched desperately for my sword, but my feet were abruptly yanked from beneath me. I hit the floor on my stomach and looked back to see thick strands of webbing wrapped around my legs, the ropes stretching back to the jorogumo’s abdomen. The huge yokai smiled, baring black fangs, and began reeling me in like a fish.
“Come to me, tasty little man bug,” she crooned, as I began the inescapable slide toward her. Flipping to my back, I tried tearing the webs from my legs, but they were as strong as silk ropes and wouldn’t budge. Desperately, I cast about for something to free my limbs, furious with myself and my mistake, imagining what Ichiro would say if I let myself get eaten by a jorogumo. I searched the floor for a sharp bone or discarded blade, but except for dust and a few finger bones trapped in webbing, there was nothing close.
“I have a special treat for you, human,” the yokai continued, still reeling me across the floor. “You can be the host for my next batch of children. I will lay a hundred eggs in your stomach and keep you alive until the day they hatch and devour you from the inside.” She giggled through her fangs, continuing to pull me across the floor with unnatural strength. “I wonder if my babies will be stronger than any before them,” she mused, “because they feasted on the Kage demonslayer?”