There was a clatter behind her. A wooden ladder leaned against the side of the tower that was above the passage. It shook as someone climbed up. Anxious voices racketed from below. Masahiro and the woman turned toward the ladder. Masahiro’s back was to Taeko, but she could see the woman’s face. It was a gray, red, and white mess of makeup and tears. It bunched like a crying child’s. The woman wailed, turned back to the edge, and stepped off.
Taeko gasped. Masahiro yelled. He snatched at the falling woman.
* * *
Panting with exhaustion, Reiko arrived at the base of the tower just as Korika jumped. She saw Masahiro reach for Korika. His hand caught her skirts. Her weight pulled him with her. Reiko stared in disbelief as he toppled. Horror consumed her with its awful, breathtaking, heart-stopping sickness. A fall from that height would be fatal.
The baby inside her writhed, as if with her agony, as Reiko screamed, “Masahiro! No!”
* * *
Taeko acted without thinking. Her left hand locked onto the beam while her right hand flashed out and grabbed Masahiro’s ankle. He fell. She heard him shout. A huge tug stiffened her arm as it took his weight and the woman’s. The joint in her shoulder popped. Pain shot down her arm. Taeko screamed.
* * *
It happened so fast, Masahiro didn’t have time to be afraid. He saw the ground rush up to meet him. For the first time he realized that he could die.
Then something clamped tight around his ankle. A wrenching jerk on his leg arrested his fall. He slammed flat against the side of the tower. The impact jarred his chin, knocked the breath out of him. Masahiro gasped. He was suspended by his leg, pulled downward by Korika, whose skirts he clutched in his hands. Dangling upside down against the tower, high above the ground, she shrieked.
* * *
Below the tower, Reiko sobbed. She flung out her arms to catch Masahiro when he fell. She braced herself for the terrible moment when he and Korika crashed upon her, killing her as they died. Blinded by tears, at first she didn’t see what had happened.
The crash didn’t come. Reiko heard shrieking above her. Masahiro and Korika dangled from the tower. She exclaimed in astonishment. A small person clutched Masahiro’s ankle with one hand and the framework with the other. It was Taeko.
* * *
Taeko was stretched between the framework and Masahiro like a rope about to snap. Groans came from the procession. Taeko looked over the edge at her hand holding Masahiro’s ankle, and Masahiro and the woman dangling. The long drop made her dizzy. She sobbed with terror. The pain in her shoulder was so bad, she thought she would vomit. Reflexes almost sprang her fingers open. She wasn’t strong enough for this. Her arm would tear off. But she held on to the beam. She held on to Masahiro.
* * *
Hanging by his leg, Masahiro felt Korika’s robes slide through his fingers. The silk was slippery, her weight pulling hard. Her hem slithered from his grip. He saw the soles of her sandals, saw her arms spread in a vain effort to fly while she plummeted. She screamed, then landed with an awful thud. Masahiro saw her body crumpled on the street. Another woman dressed in white stood by her, gazing up at him and crying. It was his mother. He twisted around to see what had kept him from falling.
A small hand clung to his ankle. It belonged to Taeko. Her face was wild with fear, her teeth clenched. Masahiro felt her trembling with the strain of bearing his weight.
Three soldiers bounded up the ladder behind Taeko. They seized Masahiro by his leg and pulled him up onto the tower. Masahiro sat speechless while they pried Taeko’s hand off his ankle. His foot was numb from the pressure, his ankle ringed with fingernail gouges. Taeko cradled her right arm, looking as shocked as he was.
“Taeko!” Midori came bounding up the ladder. She knelt beside the girl. “Thank the gods you’re safe! I’m going to kill you!” She reached for Taeko.
Masahiro heard Akiko and Tatsuo screaming his name. He figured out what had happened: Taeko had run away from her mother to follow him. Midori, and the other children, had stayed in the castle to look for Taeko instead of escaping.
As her mother hugged her, Taeko began to cry.
* * *
Reiko watched the troops carry Masahiro and Taeko off the tower. She fell to her knees and sobbed with gratitude. Taeko had acquired the superhuman strength that people sometimes do during a crisis. Masahiro was safe. Reiko didn’t know for how long, or what would happen next, but she didn’t care. This relief, this joy, was enough.
Hearing a groan, she looked down at Korika. Korika lay in a tangle of white robes and broken limbs, her neck twisted, her cheek against the paving stones. A red pool of blood, mixed with gray brain tissue, circled her head. Despite her mortal injuries, she was still alive.
Reiko felt an unexpected sympathy for this woman who’d burned a young man to death, whose crime had led to the downfall of Reiko’s family, whose suicide attempt had almost killed Masahiro. Taeko wasn’t the only one who’d acted out of selfless loyalty. Korika had murdered Yoshisato for Lady Nobuko, and she’d delivered herself to justice.
Reiko held Korika’s limp, moist hand and murmured soothingly, “You gave Lady Nobuko her revenge. She appreciates your sacrifice. You can die in peace.”
Korika’s neck muscles tensed. Her body was paralyzed. She groaned; her eyes blinked. She whispered, “I lied. To the boy. It wasn’t. My idea.”
Puzzled, Reiko said, “What wasn’t your idea?”
“The fire.”
Reiko realized that someone else had been involved in Yoshisato’s murder. The crime wasn’t yet solved, all culprits not brought to justice. Reiko demanded, “Whose idea was it?”
“Lord Ienobu.” Korika’s voice was as soft as dry grass rustling in the wind. “He came to see me. He knew I would. Do anything for. Her.” A smile twitched her lips. “And I did.”
Reiko’s heart gave a thump of astonishment. “Ienobu put you up to it? He was involved in Yoshisato’s death?”
The shine in Korika’s eyes dulled. A last breath sighed from her. Reiko was holding the hand of a dead woman.
A tremendous contraction squeezed Reiko like a cruel fist inside her. She doubled over, hugging her belly, gritting her teeth in pain. Warm liquid oozed between her legs. The baby was coming.
43
The morning after the funeral was gray, windy. Clouds shadowed the castle. In the palace, an assembly convened. The shogun sat on the dais, flanked by Ienobu on his right and Yanagisawa on his left. “I have two announcements,” he said to the government officials packed into his reception chamber.
Sano and Masahiro sat together in the front row, on the higher of the two floor levels below the dais. Sano’s cut, bruised face was stiff with his effort to conceal his astonishment. He couldn’t believe he’d lived to see this day.
The shogun held up his index finger. “I have heard a full report about the confession made by that woman Korika. I am satisfied that she set the fire and killed my son.” Grief momentarily halted him; he swallowed. “Sano-san, I hereby void the charges against you and your family. I declare all of you innocent of murder and treason.”
“Many thanks, Your Excellency.” Sano bowed. Waves of disapproval emanated toward him from the silent, motionless audience. He remembered the previous assembly, the purge, General Isogai, and Elder Ohgami. He had no friends here.
He looked at the men beside the shogun. Ienobu met his gaze calmly. Yanagisawa’s face was as white and rigid as an ice sculpture. Only the molten heat in his eyes hinted at how furious he was that Sano had survived against all expectation. If the death of his son’s murderer gave him any satisfaction, Sano couldn’t tell.