Page 42 of Night of the Dragon

I opened my eyes as the faintest of whispers drifted over the wind, tickling my ears. Like the voice of the Kirin, it wasn’t a physical sound so much as a sensation, prodding at my attention. Raising my head from Tatsumi’s chest, I looked around, trying to see who had called to me.

A harsh wind blew along the top of the rise, shaking the grass and causing silver-black shadows to glide over the ground. About a hundred yards away, I could see a lone tree, barren of leaves, the trunk almost white against the darkness.

A figure stood under that tree, her translucent form as pale as the branches and the streams of light through the clouds. Her eyes met mine over the waving grass, and I felt a shiver of recognition run down my spine.

“Suki-san,” I whispered, and felt Tatsumi turn to look as well, stiffening as he caught sight of her. Ghostly and almost invisible in the harsh light, the yurei raised an insubstantial arm and beckoned to us, before turning into a glowing sphere of light and drifting away. But it went only a few feet before it paused, hovering over the grass and casting a silvery circle of light in the air around it.

“She wants us to follow.” This from Daisuke, as he and Okame had also noticed our sudden visitor. “Perhaps we should heed her calling and see what she wants.”

“Yeah, but...” Okame jerked a thumb down the rise, toward the valley and the surging throng at the bottom. “She’s movingawayfrom the giant portal to hell. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for not getting dragged down and ripped apart by demons, but it kind of defeats the purpose of why we’re here.” The ronin gave a shrug and one of his defiant smirks. “I’d hate to have gotten all dressed up and ready to die for nothing.”

“Yumeko-san,” Daisuke said softly. “While I wish for nothing more than to greet my enemies with honor, a visit from Suki-san in the past has always turned the tide in some way. She has never led us wrong before. We should not ignore her presence now.”

I swallowed. “But what about Kiyomi-sama?” I asked. “We can’t leave now. She’ll think we’re abandoning the mission. I don’t want her to think I’m running away.”

“Go,” said a new voice. I looked up, and there was Kage Masao, standing a few feet away with his hands clasped in front of him. I hadn’t heard or seen him approach; he had been with Lady Hanshou the last time I’d checked. But like Tatsumi, it seemed Lady Hanshou’s adviser had the Kage talent for moving unseen. He looked tired, I thought. His fine robes were rumpled, dark circles crouched under his eyes, and a few strands of hair had come loose of his topknot to frame his narrow face. But he still looked poised and elegant as he stood there, smiling faintly as he watched us.

“Go, Yumeko-san,” he urged again. “Do not worry about your daimyo.” His sharp black gaze flicked to Tatsumi standing beside me. “Do not worry aboutourdaimyo. Our fate is sealed. The forces of Shadow and Moon will meet the hordes of Jigoku in battle today, and what comes next has yet to be written. But they know you have a different part to play in this tale. So, do what you must, Yumeko-san. I will inform the daimyos of your decision, but whatever you decide, both Kiyomi-sama and Lady Hanshou trust you will do everything in your power to stop the Summoning. Tatsumi-kun...” He gave Tatsumi one of his knowing, mysterious smiles. “She is quite special, isn’t she?” he said. “I saw it the first time I met her. It seems even Hakaimono cannot help to be drawn to that light.”

Tatsumi went rigid beside me, and Masao chuckled. “Keep her safe, demonslayer,” he said, drawing back. “I do not think I will see you again, so good luck to you both. Yumeko-san, whatever this day brings, it has been an honor knowing you. May the Kami’s favor find you, and may they guide your steps to your final destination.”

“Yours as well, Masao-san,” I replied. “Thank you for all your help.”

He bowed to us both, then turned and walked away, moving gracefully back down the slope toward the army waiting at the bottom. I spotted Kiyomi-sama among the samurai, and quickly turned away so I wouldn’t see her look up at me. The hitodama that was Suki still hovered in the same place, waiting patiently, and I took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I told my remaining companions, “let’s go.”

We walked along the top of the slope, away from Kiyomi-sama, Lady Hanshou and the forces of Shadow and Moon about to engage the army of Jigoku. With every step, I felt my heart twist a little in my chest, hoping Kiyomi-sama didn’t think I was abandoning the mission or her. I thought I could feel the gazes of the samurai as we walked away, the four of us silhouetted clearly against the stormy sky, and didn’t dare glance down, keeping my gaze on the glowing ball of light floating beneath the tree.

The hitodama didn’t wait for us to catch up. As soon as we started walking, it drifted away, over the grass and gently rising hills, heading north toward the edge of the island. We followed it for a goodly while, walking through grass that sometimes brushed against my thighs, makingshushingsounds as we passed. With the mottled clouds and shifting spots of light over the grasslands, it should have been pretty, in a somber sort of way. But the land felt dead, lifeless, without the presence of the kami, and it made my stomach squirm.

Finally, we could go no farther. The grasslands ended at the base of the cliffs, which dropped away into the ocean far, far below. As we approached the edge of the island, I realized I could no longer see the hitodama. Until this moment, it had kept its distance but had always been clearly visible, a distinctive white sphere drifting steadily away. But now, as I looked over the sullen gray ocean, the wind whipping and tugging at my hair, I saw no trace of the glowing ball of light, and my pulse fluttered wildly in alarm.

Where did she go? She wouldn’t lead us here and then abandon us, would she? That’s not like her at all.

“There,” said Tatsumi, before I could truly start panicking. I followed his gaze...down. Straight down, past mossy walls and small bushes growing out of the rock, to where the glowing sphere of light hovered over a narrow ledge only a few feet from the crashing waves. Still waiting.

“Ugh, you gotta be kidding,” Okame groaned, peering over my shoulder. “I guess we’re going to have to climb, then. Anyone got a rope? Yumeko-chan?” He looked at me. I stared back at him.

“Um, I don’t have a rope, Okame-san.”

“I know, but can’t you magic one into existence?”

Daisuke gave a quiet chuckle. “Regardless of our kitsune’s talents, I am unsure if we can trust an illusionary rope to climb down the side of a cliff, Okame-san.”

Tatsumi sighed. “Baka,” I heard him mutter. Reaching into the pouch at his waist, he withdrew a long, thin rope with a metal claw at the end and tossed it at the ronin. “Here. Tie that around yourself if you want. It should hold you both, just don’t jerk or yank on it too hard.”

“Oho.” Okame grinned as he caught it, looking at the noble. “Don’t you feel honored, Daisuke-san? We get the secret shinobi rope used for scaling castle walls to assassinate daimyo in their sleep.” He waggled the coil of rope at Tatsumi, still smirking. “Are you sure you want us to use this, Kage-san? Doesn’t it break some sort of Shadow Clan code?

Tatsumi snorted. “I’m not carrying you down there,” he said, and turned to me. I blinked as he stepped close, his expression suddenly uncertain.

“Gomen,” he murmured. “I don’t mean to presume. But we don’t have a lot of time, and I figure this is the fastest way.”

“The...fastest way?” I repeated, and he picked me up as easily as lifting a fish basket. My heart leaped, sending flutters of warmth through my insides, as Tatsumi turned and stepped to the edge of the cliff. A blast of damp, icy wind hit us, whipping at my hair and clothes, and I made the mistake of looking down.

Oh, kami. My heart sped up for a completely different reason, and I clutched at the front of Tatsumi’s haori. He shifted me in his arms, freeing one limb but holding me tight with the other. I felt his own heartbeat thudding beneath his shirt as he bent his head close to mine.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he told me. I did, pressing myself as close to him as I could, and felt his breath against my ear as he murmured, “Hold on, and don’t look down. I won’t let you fall.”

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