Toshi wanted to shout, “What in the cold gray hell are you people doing here?” but he could imagine the answer. When Hidetsugu and his yamabushi came to the academy, they came for slaughter. It was hard to believe that the ogre or his patron oni hadn’t sniffed them out in their hiding place, even this far down.
Hard to believe but not impossible. Somehow, they had managed to stay alive and remain undiscovered for almost a week. From the looks of things, they wouldn’t last much longer.
A sentry hissed at the far end of the room, raising an urgent but understated warning. To Toshi’s growing horror, a pair of black, razor-toothed jaws materialized near the opposite wall. The disembodied teeth snapped lightly, testing the air like a snake’s tongue. A second pair of jaws appeared and the sentry backed away with his sword drawn.
Toshi fought back a wave of dread and panic. This was Hidetsugu’s oni manifest, the All-Consuming Oni of Chaos. Toshi recognized the voracious mouths as part of the great demonic spirit’s body, like the scales of a fish or the hairs on a spider’s leg. From what he had seen, the All-Consuming was nothing but a thick cloud of hungry mouths and snapping teeth crowned by gigantic oni horns and three malevolent eyes.
The other guardians quietly crossed the room, nudging and shaking people awake as they went. Weary and resigned, the survivors quickly withdrew from the now growing number of jaws floating and snapping at the other end of the room.
Safely hidden and immaterial, Toshi watched as he pondered his next move.
The warriors all waited with their hands on their weapons, watching the jaws. The flying teeth drifted deeper into the room, but they never strayed far from the interior wall where they appeared. After a long, agonizing minute, the jaws turned and began to fade. If they were searching for something good to eat, they hadn’t found it here. Toshi wondered if the oni had missed the Taken One, or if it just didn’t recognize the disk as a gourmet meal.
Moments later, the library was completely still and silent once more, though now everyone in it was wide awake. Toshi watched the group until he sorted out who was in charge, then silently approached a sturdy-looking officer wearing the daimyo’s standard. One step away from the soldier, Toshi faded in and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Captain?” Toshi read the man’s rank from his shoulder insignia. “How much longer can we last?”
The officer looked Toshi over suspiciously. “As long as it takes.”
“Oh, good. Very good, thanks for that. But you know what? That’s not really an answer, is it?”
The captain scowled. “Who are you? I don’t recognize you.”
Toshi leaned in and hissed, “I’m the guy who can get you out of here if you keep your wits about you.” He faded from sight, maneuvered around the captain, and reappeared behind the soldier. “Interested?”
The officer slowly turned and faced Toshi. “Keep talking,” he said, his own voice pitched low. “I’m Nagao.” He gestured over Toshi’s shoulder. “That’s Silver-Foot.”
Toshi croaked as a huge gray kitsune samurai startled him. The fox-warrior nodded his short muzzle to acknowledge Toshi then stood by with his hand on his sword.
Nagao, the human captain, leaned closer to Toshi. “I’ll ask you again, friend. Who are you?”
“Call me Toshi.” Thinking quickly, Toshi said, “I’m a thief. I’m here to loot the place. But I’m good at getting in and out of places, so I might be able to help you. How often does that thing come sniffing around?” He pointed to the wall where the oni mouths had appeared.
Nagao still looked suspicious, but Silver-Foot said, “Tell him, Captain. I don’t believe him either, but he wasn’t here an hour ago and he is here now. He might know something that we can use.”
Nagao nodded. “It comes about once a day. Its visits are growing more frequent.”
“Has it gotten anyone?”
“Not yet. Tonight was typical … it shows up, then suddenly seems to lose interest. But it’ll be back.”
“Good,” Toshi said. “That’s good.”
Nagao glowered. “I don’t see how that’s good, friend.”
Toshi smiled. “That’s because you’re not me. Listen, if that thing were going to eat you, it would have by now. I think you’re safe in here for the time being.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Nagao said dryly. “But if you can’t offer us anything more than that, I think you’ve wasted enough of my time.”
Toshi cocked his head. “Just stay here. And don’t let anyone touch that big stone disk. It’s dangerous.”
“I needed you to tell me that,” Nagao muttered. Then, slightly louder, he said, “And where will you be? If you can leave, you’re taking at least one of us with you.”
Toshi smiled and winked. “Sorry, Captain. I refuse. But do as I say and I’ll be back in a day or two.”
Silver-Foot’s sword slid out of its sheath like a whisper. The blade gleamed in the dim light and the kitsune said, “Don’t move, Toshi. Nagao is quite right-you must take someone with you if you can.”
Still smiling, Toshi faded from sight. Both officers grabbed for him as he went, but their hands passed through him.
“Trust me,” he said, his voice hollow and distant. “I just need to call in a few favors. Two days, three at the most-I’ll be back with help.”
The good captains continued to search their immediate surroundings for any sign of the stranger. Toshi maneuvered himself into the nearby shadows, already planning a series of jaunts through the shadow realm that would eventually allow him to return to Minamo and collect his prize.
Though the hyozan reckoners were broken and in turmoil, there was one last job they needed to do together.
CHAPTER 4
Home again for the first time in weeks, Toshi stood in the Numai district of Takenuma Swamp. No matter what the old ones said, he would never believe the fen had ever been anything but a greasy, bubbling cauldron of muck and rotten bamboo. If you wanted to build a house or a business in the swamp, you had to do it on twenty-foot stilts, high above the surface of the bog. Everything rested on sturdy bamboo legs: every building, every walkway, every structure that might conceivably be used by nontoxic, non-amphibious life forms.
Toshi hated the swamp. If the quicksand-like filth didn’t drag you down and the swamp insects didn’t infect you with bleeding fever, there were larger, crueler dangers waiting for the unwary who braved the bog. Numai’s entire human population, for one. Here, the only things more malevolent than the cursed ground were the people who thrived on it. For as long as Toshi could remember his district had been the crossroads where the criminal-minded and the bloodthirsty met and mingled. Those with shady work could sit down with those who didn’t mind doing it for cash.
There was precious little foot traffic now, which Toshi suspected was due to more than the swamp’s bad reputation. There was a heaviness in the air, the kind of damp, oppressive stillness that usually precedes a major storm. It was similar to the dread he had felt hovering over Kamitaki Falls, but the swamp’s mood was even darker, wetter, and more oppressive. After two decades of the Kami War, Toshi was all too familiar with the signs of a spirit crossing into the physical world, but that sensation was usually limited to a small area. Now, the pressure and sense of impending attack was everywhere.
He hadn’t actually seen any spirits yet, but he had seen their wake. Mangled and partially consumed corpses left hanging in trees, temples smashed and painted over in blood, and charred, smoking ruins where great manors once stood.
Toshi heard a distant scream that echoed across the surface of the swamp. He waited for a moment to listen for the sequel, but no further sound came. He resumed walking. Just as well, he thought. He had no time for new adventures. He had already mortgaged too much of his future to powerful beings and made enemies of still more, so there was simply no chance for anyone else to make demands on him. The screamer would have to save himself.