Page 4 of Night of the Dragon

The shinobi waited for me, the kusarigama flashing as he twirled it in an expert circle. It was a deadly weapon, most dangerous at long range; the chain was used to entangle and disarm the enemy while the kama dealt the finishing blow. I had seen them in action but had never faced one myself. They had the stigma of being peasant weapons, something that farmers, monks and assassins would use, not noble samurai. Of course, the Kage shinobi had no such bias.

I narrowed my gaze at the warrior across from me. “Just you, then?” I asked quietly. Something didn’t feel right. Often, Kage shinobi were lone operators, silently infiltrating a house or camp to assassinate a target, or to steal important information. However, on extremely risky or dangerous missions, an entire cell would be sent, a whole troop of highly trained spies and killers, to make certain the job was done. Tracking down the most infamous demonslayer in the entire history of the Shadow Clan would certainly qualify as “dangerous.” Surely they wouldn’t send a single Kage to do the job...

I spun, lashing out with Kamigoroshi, and knocked a pair of kunai from the air with a clang of metal. A second shinobi appeared on a branch behind me, drawing a pair of kama sickles as I turned. At the same time, I felt the cold bite of metal as a chain whipped out and wrapped around my sword arm. The first shinobi pulled the chain taut, drawing my arm back, as his partner leaped at me with both kama raised.

I curled a lip and gave my arm a savage yank. The shinobi on the other end of the chain was jerked off his feet, flew through the air and collided with the second attacker. Both tumbled toward the forest floor, though the first shinobi managed to hang on to the kusarigama, dangling from the chain like a stunned fish. His partner wasn’t nearly so lucky, hitting the ground at an awkward angle, and the clear snap of bones cut through the night. He twitched once, limbs flailing, and was still.

With the kusarigama chain still wrapped around my wrist, I pulled the shinobi up, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the tree trunk. He gasped, the first sound I’d heard him make, and I froze. For the voice emerging beneath the cowl and mask was definitely not male.

Reaching up, I stripped away the hood, pulling off the cowl and mask to reveal the face beneath. Dark, familiar eyes glared up at me, and my stomach twisted.

“Ayame?”

The kunoichi stared at me, defiance written across her face, one corner of her lip pulled into a sneer. “I’m surprised you recognized me, Tatsumi-kun,” she said in that sardonic, biting voice. “Or, should I call you Hakaimono now?”

I shook my head. Ayame was one of the clan’s best shinobi and, a very long time ago, she had been a friend. Perhaps my closest friend. After I’d been chosen to become the new demonslayer, the majutsushi took me away and had me trained in isolation, away from my fellow shinobi and anyone my own age. As the years went by, Ayame and I had grown apart, as children were wont to do, and even after I became the demonslayer we saw each other only in passing. But I still had a few memories of that brief time before, a few recollections even the harsh demonslayer training couldn’t stamp out. Ayame had always been eager, defiant and utterly fearless. It made my chest ache that she was my enemy now, that I would very likely have to kill her.

“You were sent after me,” I stated. “Did Lady Hanshou order this?”

Her dark eyes flashed, the corner of her mouth curling even higher. “You should know better than that, Tatsumi-kun,” she said softly. “A shinobi never gives up their secrets, even to a demon. Especially to a demon.” For the briefest of moments, a shadow of pity crossed her face, a hint of the regret that was eating me from the inside. “Merciful kami, you really have become a monster, haven’t you?” she whispered. “So this is why the Kage lords are all terrified of Kamigoroshi. I thoughtyou, of all people, were too strong to fall to Hakaimono.”

Her words shouldn’t have stung, but I felt them anyway, like she had jabbed the blade of a tanto beneath my skin. But at the same time, there was a darkness building inside, urging me to kill her, to crush her throat beneath my hands. I could see my reflection in her dark eyes; the red-hot pinpricks of my own gaze, staring back at me. The ends of my fingers had grown curved black claws that were digging into her skin.

“I don’t want to kill you,” I whispered, and heard the apology in my own voice. Because we both knew death was the only outcome. A shinobi never gave up until its mission was complete. If I let her go, she would only return with reinforcements, putting the lives of Yumeko and the others at risk.

A sad, triumphant smile crossed Ayame’s face. “You won’t,” she said. “Don’t worry, Tatsumi-kun. My mission has already been accomplished.”

Her jaw moved, like she was biting down on something, and I caught the hint of a sweet, chilling scent that made my stomach roil.

“No!” I squeezed her throat, pushing the kunoichi back into the trunk, trying to keep her from swallowing, but it was already too late. Ayame’s head rolled back, and she began convulsing, her limbs twitching in frantic, unrestrained spasms. Her lips parted, and a white foam bubbled out, spilling down her chin and running into the collar of her uniform. I watched helplessly, grief and anger a painful knot in my throat, until the spasms finally ceased, and she slumped lifelessly in my grip, a casualty of blood lotus tears, one of the most potent poisons the clan had at their disposal. A few drops killed instantly, and all shinobi carried a tiny, fragile vial on their person, accessible even if their hands were restrained. Blood lotus tears ensured that the Kage shinobi would never give up their secrets.

Numb, I lowered the kunoichi to the branch and gently leaned her back against the trunk, folding her hands in her lap. Ayame stared sightlessly ahead, dark eyes fixed and unseeing, her expression slack. A trickle of white still ran from a corner of her lips. I wiped it away with a cloth and closed her eyes so it simply looked like she was sleeping. A memory came to me then: the image of a young girl dozing in the branches of a tree, hiding from her instructors. She had been so annoyed when I told her we should go back, and she’d threatened to put centipedes in my blanket if I told our sensei where she had been.

“I’m sorry,” I told her quietly. “Forgive me, Ayame. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

You really have become a monster, haven’t you?

I bowed my head. My former clan sister was right; I was a demon, now. My very nature was to kill and destroy. There was no place for me in the empire, no place for me among the clans, my family and certainly not at the side of a beautiful, naive fox girl who seemed foolishly unafraid of the fact that I could tear her apart with no thought at all.

A breeze stirred the branches of the trees, and I sighed, running a hand down my face. Why had Lady Hanshou sent only Ayame and one other to face me? Ayame was one of the clan’s best shadow warriors and answered directly to Master Ichiro, the head instructor of the Kage shinobi. Only the clan daimyo could order such a mission, but Hanshou knew, better than anyone, that a pair of shinobi stood no chance against a demon. And yet, Ayame had said her mission was complete...

I straightened in alarm. Hanshou knew two shinobi wouldn’t be able to defeat me, that had never been the objective. Ayame’s mission wasn’t to kill; she had been a distraction. A ruse to lure me away from Yumeko and the others, leaving them alone in a shadowy cave...

With a growl, I turned and sprinted back through the trees, cursing my idiocy and hoping I wasn’t too late.

3

Blades in the Dark

Yumeko

Iwas worried about Tatsumi.

Not because he was a demon. Or a half-demon. Or had part of a demon soul sharing his mind with him. Actually, I still wasn’t sure what Tatsumi was, exactly. And I didn’t thinkheknew, either, if he was more oni than human, Hakaimono than Kage Tatsumi. But I wasn’t concerned about his demon side. I didn’t worry that he would suddenly turn on us in the middle of the night, though I knew his presence made Reika and the others very nervous. None of them, not even Okame, were comfortable having an oni in our midst. Reika would scold that I was being naive, that a demon could not be trusted, that they were evil and treacherous, and that I was foolish for letting down my guard. And maybe Iwasbeing naive, but I had seen Tatsumi’s true soul, the strength and brightness of it, and I knew he would do everything he could not to fall prey to Hakaimono’s savagery.

No, I wasn’t worried that he would betray us. I worried that his guilt and the fear of what he’d become would prompt him to leave for our safety. That one night, Kage Tatsumi would slip quietly away into the shadows, and I would never see him again. Knowing Tatsumi, he would try to find and confront Genno on his own, and though the demonslayer was incredibly strong, I didn’t know if he could single-handedly destroy the Master of Demons and his army of monsters, blood mages and yokai.

Oh, Tatsumi. I would help you, if you would let me. You don’t have to face Genno alone. You’ve been alone long enough.

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