Page 5 of Night of the Dragon

“Yumeko-chan?”

I blinked and glanced up. Okame sat cross-legged in front of me, one hand on the facedown cup between us, an expectant look on his face. “It’s your turn to call,” he said.

“Oh.” I looked down at the cup beneath his fingers, wondering what to do. I hadn’t really been listening when he gave the explanation. “Gomen...what were the rules again?”

“It’s easy, Yumeko-chan.” The ronin smirked. “You call ‘cho’ if you think the dice will turn out even, ‘han’ if you think the numbers will be odd. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” I cocked my head. “This seems like a very simple game, Okame-san.”

“Trust me, it’s not so simple when there’s an empire’s worth of coin on the line.”

“I don’t see any coin. Are we supposed to be using coins?”

“Only if you want to—Ite!” Okame winced as Reika reached up and swatted the back of his head again. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Yumeko is capable of turning leaves into money and creating gold from pebbles,” the shrine maiden stated calmly. “Do you really want to teach a kitsune about the vices of gambling?”

I had no idea what they were talking about, but suddenly, the hairs on my ears and tail stood up, and a ripple of magic went through the air, cool and dark and familiar. A half second later, the flames in the firepit vanished, like someone had snuffled a candle, and the cave was plunged into darkness.

I scrambled to my feet, hearing my companions leap upright as well, and raised my hand, sending a pulse of fox magic into the air. Instantly, a blue-white flame of kitsune-bi appeared in the palm of my hand, filling the chamber with a ghostly light...

...and revealing the dozen shinobi surrounding us, their dark figures seeming to melt out of the shadows of the cave, blades already raised to strike. For a moment, they froze, as if startled by the sudden flare of light when they had been expecting total darkness. I yelped, Okame shouted and Daisuke spun, his blade clearing its sheath in an instant, beheading the shinobi behind him with his knife raised to cut his throat.

Chaos erupted in the tight confines of the cave. Voices shouted, blades flashed and dark shapes flickered erratically in the light of the kitsune-bi. I threw the ball of foxfire into the air, spun, and came face-to-face with a masked shinobi stabbing down at me with his knife. Jerking back, I collided with someone, hopefully a friend, and threw my hands out toward my attacker. Foxfire roared, and the shadow warrior flinched away, not realizing the ghostly flames couldn’t hurt him. Before he could recover, I reached into my obi, grabbed one of the leaves I had stuffed inside and threw it into the air as the shinobi looked up. There was a silent explosion of smoke, and another Yumeko appeared, stepping forward to face the shadow warrior.

The shinobi hesitated a moment, clearly baffled, but then his eyes hardened and he slashed his blade down...at the other Yumeko, who let out a convincing cry of pain before she collapsed, vanishing into smoke as she struck the ground. The black-clad warrior frowned as the illusion writhed away into mist, then glared at me, confusion turning to fury. Raising his sword, he tensed to lunge.

A blade, flaring with purple fire, erupted from his chest, lifted him off his feet and flung him away. I blinked and looked up as Kage Tatsumi, eyes and horns glowing an ominous red, lowered his sword and met my gaze.

“Are you all right, Yumeko?”

“Help the others,” I cried, and he sprang past me with a snarl, cutting another assailant in two, and Kamigoroshi’s baleful purple light joined the flickering kitsune-bi on the walls of the cave.

A shout behind me made my stomach drop. I spun, hurling a sphere of foxfire at the nearest shinobi, who had Reika pinned against the wall and was raising his sword. The flames erupted against the side of his head, making him flinch and stagger back, and the shrine maiden thrust an ofuda in his direction with a shout, slamming him into the opposite wall. He bounced off the stones and looked up, just as a glowing blade ripped through his stomach and left him sliding wetly to the floor. Tatsumi continued on, into the midst of the chaos. I tried to follow him, but in the dancing lights, all I could see was frantic movement, the silhouettes of friend and foe darting across the floor, and the flash of metal in the darkness. But, one by one, the shinobi jerked and collapsed, blood spraying the air, as a vengeful demon moved through their ranks like a whirlwind of blades.

The last of the shinobi fell, one sliced apart by Tatsumi, the other beheaded by Daisuke, in the center of the chamber. The two men whirled, still searching for opponents, and their blades met with a screech of metal and sparks. For a heartbeat, they stood there, demon and master swordsman, Tatsumi with his glowing eyes and sword and Daisuke with a blank, glassy expression on his face, both looking entirely dangerous. My heart pounded, wondering, for a split second, if they would continue their fight and cut each other down, if the lure of battle was too much for either of them to resist.

“Uh, Daisuke-san? Kage-san?” Okame’s voice broke through the sudden silence. “The fight’s over. You can stop glaring at each other anytime.”

Slowly, the two lowered their blades and stepped back, though neither seemed eager to relinquish the fight. Daisuke flicked the blood from his sword and nodded to Tatsumi, his expression somber. “You are as fearsome in battle as ever, Kage-san,” he stated in a tone of sincere admiration. “Remember, you still owe me a duel when this is finished.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Tatsumi said quietly, the glow fading from his eyes. “Though are you sure you want to do battle with a demon? Hakaimono is not known for playing by the rules.”

“There are no rules in battle, Kage-san,” Daisuke replied calmly. “Rules serve only to limit the potential of both swordsmen. When we do fight, please come at me with everything you have.”

“Is everyone all right?” Reika demanded, stepping forward with Chu beside her. The dog’s hackles stood on end, and his eyes were hard as he glared at the scattered bodies on the cave floor. “We have more important things to discuss than these absurd duels of honor. Yumeko, there’s blood on your face. Are you hurt?”

Tatsumi turned swiftly, his gaze meeting mine as I put a hand to my cheek, feeling a sticky wetness against my skin. “No,” I said, seeing him slump in relief. “It’s not mine. I’m all right. Is everyone else okay?”

“I think we’re fine. Though something smacked me on the head pretty hard.” Okame stood up, rubbing the back of his skull. He took a step forward, winced and sank to his knees again. “Ite.Okay, maybe a bit harder than I thought. Why is the floor spinning?”

Daisuke immediately came forward, concern flicking across his features, to kneel beside him. His long fingers brushed the side of the ronin’s face, gently turning his head to the side to reveal a mess of blood at the base of his skull. Okame grimaced, closing his eyes, and Daisuke’s concern turned to alarm.

“Reika-san,” he said, and the shrine maiden immediately stepped forward and crouched down to peer at the back of the ronin’s head. My stomach curled as Reika prodded and examined the wound, making Okame hiss and growl curses under his breath, but after a few moments she straightened with a sigh.

“Nothing life-threatening,” she said as I let out a breath of relief. “Lots of blood, but it looks like you took the blunt end of a weapon instead of the sharp one. Not sure how you managed that, but it should heal in a few days. You can be thankful that your head is harder than the palace walls.”

“Yokatta,” Daisuke breathed, expressing his relief as well, and gave the ronin a faint smile. “You cannot die yet, Okame-san,” he said. “Especially not from such a dishonorable, cowardly attack from behind. How are we supposed to meet that glorious death together if you go and die on me before the final battle?”

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