Higher up among the clouds themselves, Konda saw many more of the soratami chariots. They would be dealt with in similar fashion, harshly, and soon. Below him on the ground, his army had completely surrounded the soratami samurai and were in the process of grinding them to bits. There was no sign of any orochi whatsoever, but Konda considered this to be tactical prudence instead of cowardice: if the ghost army won the day here, there was still plenty of Jukai left to defend.
Konda had his escorts and one other moth veer off to the west. The others he sent up to dismantle the soratami armada and demonstrate once and for all who ruled Kamigawa.
On the ground, a small force of about twenty split off from the fighting and raced after Konda’s trio of moth-riders. While the bulk of his ghost army would continue to drive the soratami out of Jukai, these retainers would be his honor guard, the smaller, less obvious force that he would take to surprise the thief Toshi.
The daimyo soared on, eager enough to open a wide lead between the aerial elements of his honor guard and the ground forces. He refused to wait one second longer than he had to. Konda swore the next time he laid eyes on the Taken One it would not leave his sight until he reclaimed it, preferably over the dead body of that cursed lowlife.
The voice of Night’s Reach boomed through Toshi’s head scant seconds after he entered the realm of shadow.
TOSHI, she thundered, YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME.
“I had no other choice, O Night. I had to weigh your wishes against each other. You did not want the Taken One retaken, yet you also didn’t want it in your domain. I could not accomplish both, so I picked this.”
The myojin’s voice grew softer, but she was no less sharp. You have chosen unwisely, my soon-to-be ex-acolyte. Rectify this situation immediately. Begone, and never return.
The void around them boiled and churned. Toshi felt a rush of motion and a painful jolt before he tumbled painfully to the cold, hard ground. Behind him, he heard the Taken One make a similar rough landing.
Toshi quickly got to his feet. They were still in the forest, surrounded by cedars and ferns, but the landscape was different from eastern Jukai. This was more like the western edge of the forest, closer to the civilized regions of Eiganjo and the kitsune nation.
Before Toshi could fully get his bearings, Night’s Reach sprang up before him on a curtain of black.
“You’ll never see it here again,” Toshi said quickly. “On my honor, I swear it was unavoidable.”
Be silent. I have seen what your honor entails. My blessings count for nothing, my patronage counts for nothing unless it suits you.
“You wound me, O Night. I tried to ask for your guidance and you did not reply.”
And that justifies doing precisely what I instructed you not to do? Have I not made you powerful? Have I not intervened and saved you when you were at the mercy of your enemies? And this is how you repay me.
Toshi shrugged. “I was desperate. Mistakes were made. Forgive me, O Night, but I don’t see the harm.”
And that is why you have failed me so completely, Toshi. The myojin’s expression was static and unchanged, but rage and frustration both seeped from its porcelain surface. My interests hinge on not drawing O-Kagachi’s attention. Bringing that to my domain is like lighting a candle that he will always see. In seconds, days, or years, he will come. It might take centuries, but he will remember that I was the one who concealed his missing progeny. If he comes here, if he even fixes his gaze upon this place, I will suffer. And it will take far longer than your life span for me to recover.
Toshi tried to think of a graceful way to excuse his actions or deflect Night’s anger, but before he spoke another disembodied voice joined the discussion.
release me
Real panic crept into the myojin’s voice. What was that?
The ochimusha paused. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about. It’s alive,” Toshi shouted. “What do I do with it?”
What have you done? It is connected to O-Kagachi; it has tasted the old serpent’s power. If it has awakened, we are all in terrible danger.
Toshi looked into the face of the stone disk. The image of the serpent was facing outward, both its etched eyes fixed on the Myojin of Night’s Reach. Its tail waved in angry slashes.
His vision doubled and for a moment Toshi saw two stone disks and two angry serpents. Something heavy pushed against his entire body as a small white spark flashed on the surface of the Taken One.
A sharp, sleek needle of force shot out from the stone disk. It lanced directly into the myojin’s face and punctured the mask, sending a spiderweb of cracks radiating outward from the center.
Night’s Reach wailed, but the sound faded as quickly as the pieces of the shattered mask. Toshi continued to stare at the space where his myojin had been until a flicker of motion drew his eye back to the Taken One.
On the surface of the stone disk, the fetal serpent drew its long, forked tongue back into its mouth. It disappeared into the etched mouth with a curious popping sound, and then the serpent resumed her profile position.
release me now
“I’m working on it,” Toshi said. He paused, scanning the area for familiar signs. There was only one course left to him now, only one group he could turn to. And if they didn’t kill him on sight, they might actually listen to him and try to help.
CHAPTER 20
Lady Pearl-Ear of the kitsune had been at Princess Michiko’s side since the very moment the princess was born. At first the fox-woman served because of her great love for Yoshino, Michiko’s mother, who died shortly after the birth, but as the child grew Pearl-Ear saw what a remarkable person the princess could become and swore to be the mentor and friend Lady Yoshino never had the chance to be.
Pearl-Ear did not think of herself as a second mother-she would not wish to dishonor Yoshino’s memory, and also their species were too fundamentally different. Pearl-Ear did consider herself as family, but as a caring and perhaps overly concerned aunt rather than a parent. She would teach Michiko what she could about the world, but the princess herself would have to make her way in it.
Here in a village of kitsune made refugees by the Kami War, Pearl-Ear realized her guardianship of Michiko was nearly complete. Despite the horrors of the Kami War and the knowledge that her father’s crimes had caused them, Michiko-hime was blooming in her self-imposed exile on the western edge of Jukai. Pearl-Ear had never seen the princess Michiko so confident and determined, or so focused. She attended every meeting of the kitsune council and made frequent (and sometimes heated) contributions to the discussion. Pearl-Ear took secret pride in the way Michiko presented her concerns, for it was the kitsune who taught her to reason, to argue, and to address an august assembly. As a representative of the people of Eiganjo, Michiko was a passionate and welcome voice at the table.
Pearl-Ear’s eyes crinkled in amusement. Some of the council members had openly mentioned Michiko’s only shortcoming as a diplomat: her all-too-human impatience for action. During one discussion, Elder Silk-Eyes explained that the kitsune were always more inclined to observe the situation and meditate on a solution. For all creatures, especially humans, the world revealed itself only to those who took the time to consider it.
Michiko had bowed politely, but her words had been sharp. “Venerable elder,” she said, “the kitsune live for hundreds of years. You can afford to meditate. Humans have to act more quickly, else we’d never accomplish anything.”