Ai of the Mountain (A Fairy Retelling #2) (5 page)

“I have a confession to make to you, too, Ai-chan,” he says when I am finished. “I know that you are frightened of what the daimyo may do, and I want to do everything I can to help keep you safe from him. But, I am selfishly glad you did not leave.”

“Why, Kaito?” I ask. “We’re always together in my dreams. What difference would it make to you if I stayed here, or traveled to Nagasaki, or any other city for that matter?”

“Because, my sweet girl, I cannot leave here.” He lifts his chin to indicate the river and forest surrounding us. “I am bound here, forever.”

The sound of my father coming home wakes me, and I am groggy, not used to falling asleep in the middle of the day. Okaasan is still holding tightly to my hand while she still rests. I slip out of her grasp and quietly exit the room, careful not to wake her. I meet Father in the kitchen and prepare a quick meal for him. He has arrived home very late; it’s already dusk.

We sit down at the table together, neither of us having said much to each other since his arrival. I tell him about Mother, and her apparent stroke. His face is burdened with concern for her. Neither of us know how many more strokes my mother can take, how much longer she will be able to survive. “There is something else,” he says slowly, as if the words are too heavy to carry across the table. “The daimyo received a letter from the emperor today.”

I nod. I remember Lord Nakaguchi reading over the long, scrolled letter. I remember how he carefully rolled it back into the golden canister that is worth more money than all of our family possessions put together. “Yes, Father,” I say, “I saw him read it, just before he sent Kurasawa-san away to accompany the emperor’s representative on his journey.”

My father looks at me with sad, kind eyes. Perhaps he has guessed that Kurasawa-san was more than just kind to me. Maybe even Father wondered if there might be more in store for our future, if the daimyo had not interfered. “The emperor’s letter demanded that Lord Nakaguchi pay the tribute of taxes that is due, the taxes that the daimyo has already collected from all the people of the region.”

I remember the taxes. The amount we owed this year was far greater than any our family had ever paid in the past. Father had to find extra work in the village for several long, hard weeks to make up the difference in what we owed. Mother and I gathered everything together in the house that we could sell for a little bit of money. There wasn’t much, but we were able to scrape together enough to pay the daimyo’s fees. All in exchange for the protection of the daimyo and the emperor, of course. Protection from what, I do not know, perhaps protection from their wrath.

“It seems that our good Lord Nakaguchi, has spent most of the taxes he collected on his new castle,” Father continues. “He has demanded that we pay more.”

“More?” I ask, nearly dropping my bowl of rice to the table. “How can we possibly pay more? We have nothing left to give him.”

“That is true. Even after I receive my wages for working on the castle, we will still owe him. I will essentially be working for free.”

It does not escape my notice that the daimyo is paying my father’s wages with the taxes he first collected from us. I sigh. The weight of our situation is too heavy for me to bear. “What will we do, Otousan?”

Father’s face is full of pain. I see he has more words, but he doesn’t want to share them. “What is it, Father?” I ask. “You can tell me.”

Father takes a deep breath, then confesses. “The daimyo made sure to let me know our family would not be subject to the increased taxes.”

I feel a sudden relief, but it is immediately followed by great fear. My father’s face and stance has not relaxed. He has more to say. “Why would Lord Nakaguchi tell you that?”

“He has offered us a bargain,” Father explains. “Our family will not be subject to the new taxes, as long as you agree to enter into courtship with him.”

The daimyo means to marry me.
The words swirl around in my head as Father and I finish our dinner silently. I know he does not wish for me to marry Lord Nakaguchi, but there does not seem to be any other alternative. We cannot pay the daimyo’s exorbitant taxes. What little we do have will be needed to help take care of Mother. I have no choice.

Night has fallen completely when I find myself seeking the counsel of Grandfather Koi. I sit next to the river and toss a rice ball into the water. The giant koi rises from the depths and takes it into his mouth before coming to the surface.

“Good evening, Grandfather Koi,” I say.

“Good evening, Ai-chan.”

It does not take much coaxing for Grandfather Koi to get me to talk about what is troubling me. I need his counsel. I have no idea what to do.

I tell him about my initial idea to run away to the city and how foolish that seems now that everything has changed. With mother’s illness and the daimyo’s demand for more taxes or else my hand in courtship, I am trapped. Even if my mother were well, I could not leave them to scrape together the daimyo’s fees on their own.

“Lord Nakaguchi has forced me into a corner and is holding my parents’ wellbeing captive. There is no escape from the future he has in mind for me.”

“Perhaps there is something I can do to help, Ai-chan,” the great fish says.

I nearly laugh aloud, but catch myself at the last minute. I do not wish to belittle Grandfather Koi, but I cannot see what a giant, talking fish can do to help my predicament, even one as old and wise as he. I force away my smile, and ask him seriously, “How, Grandfather Koi? How can you help me?”

“I have something valuable I can give you,” he replies, “but I will need your help to pry it loose. You will need something sharp.”

“I can go back to the house and see what I can find,” I say, thinking of a pair of scissors that is sitting in Mother’s sewing basket.

“No need,” Grandfather Koi says. “I have just the thing.” Without another word, he dives deep down into the water of the river. I sit on the bank and try to peer in, but the water is inky black and opaque. I see nothing but my distorted reflection shimmering in the moonlit surface of the water. I wait several minutes until the water breaks and Grandfather Koi leaps out from river and onto the bank. I yell in surprise and fall back on the grass, shielding myself from the deluge of river water that spills over me.

Grandfather Koi has something in his mouth. It gleams in the moonlight. He drops it from his panting lips and onto the ground. The object shines in the moonlight. Grandfather Koi shimmies his body back into the water, but I only notice his movement from the corner of my eye. My attention is focused solely on the object he has dropped on the ground just at my feet.

I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. It can’t be real. I know it can’t be real.

“You can use this,” Grandfather Koi says.

“How did you get this, Grandfather?”

“I consider it mine,” he says. “It has been in the river for as long as I can remember.”

I ponder his words carefully. It is old. Just as old as Grandfather Koi, if not older. And it is real. Undeniably real. I bend down to touch the object and pick it up, marveling at the feel of it in my hands.

I have seen this before, many times. But, never in my waking life. Always, in my dreams.

“I know who this belongs to,” I tell Grandfather Koi.

“Who?” he asks. “How could you know?”

“Because I have seen it nearly every day of my life,” I answer. I turn the object over in my hand, amazed at its heaviness and realness.

In my hands is Kaito’s sword.

Chapter 4

How can this be?
I turn the sword over and over, not believing that it is truly here.
What does this mean?
The words run through my mind, but I already know the answer. It means that Kaito is real. Was real.

A shiver runs down my spine.
If Kaito is truly real, but is no longer alive, then what is he, exactly?
A ghost?
Pieces of the puzzle fall into place. His old-fashioned clothes. The way he has never aged, though I have known him my entire life. His words from my dream ring in my ears. “I am bound to this place.”

I can’t believe I never considered the possibility before. But then, I never had reason to. I have always lived with the belief that Kaito is only a part of my imagination.

And now…

“Ai-chan, are you quite all right?”

Grandfather Koi’s question pulls me out of my reverie. “Yes,” I answer. “I was just thinking. Forgive me.” I hold the blade out in front of me. It is lighter than it looks. “What shall I do with this?”

“Kneel down here,” he says, and I obey, sitting on my knees next to the river’s edge. “I have something I wish to give you, but this gift is not easy for me to give. I will need your assistance.”

“Of course, Grandfather,” I say, wondering what exactly he will need help with.

“I need you to cut off two of my scales.”

“What?” I’m not sure I heard him correctly.
“My scales are enchanted, Ai-chan, as is the rest of me. I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that I am no ordinary, golden koi.”

“Of course, Grandfather. I know you are far from ordinary, and I am not surprised to hear that you are enchanted, but I don’t understand why you are asking me to cut off your beautiful scales.”

“Please trust me, my dear. You will not hurt me. And the magic that envelops me will also provide help for you. I will swim close to you. Take the sword and use it to cut two of my scales off. You will understand soon.”

I stay still. I am afraid I will harm my friend. I do not want to do anything that will bring him pain. I have no doubt that cutting off his scales will be very painful, though I know if I ask him about it, he will downplay the seriousness of it. I don’t understand why Grandfather Koi is asking me to do this, but then again, I don’t understand how the sword came to be in the river in the first place, what is Kaito’s true story, or why the daimyo is singularly interested in me, either. So many things I don’t understand.

But then, trusting in someone doesn’t have to be dependent upon understanding them. I decide to trust Grandfather Koi. He must have a plan. I just don’t understand it yet.

His body swims close to the edge of the river. When I lift the sword up and hold it over the water, he alters his position so that the side of his body floats upward and out of the water. He fills himself up with a breath of air and the scales begin to part and feather out from one another.

I take the sword, hoping it is still sharp after so many years of disuse, and lay the blade against the side of the great fish. Careful not to cut the fragile, white skin that lies behind the scales, I slice quickly.

I am certain that I was extremely careful and yet, when I pull my hand and the sword away, there is blood pooling on his skin. In my surprise, the sword slips out of my hand and back into the water. Grandfather Koi’s body glides under the surface and the blood dissipates into the river. He surfaces again, but before I can ask him about the injury, he says, “Look, Ai-chai.”

His head nods at my hand, to my fingers clutched tightly around the scales he has given me. I loosen my grip. The scales are no longer there; they are gone. Instead, lying in my palm are two, beautiful gold coins, each embossed with the image of a rose. Thin ridges covering the delicate surface faintly resemble the texture of scales and are the only clue that the coins are related to the fish at all. They are beautiful, enchanting.

I look at Grandfather Koi, too amazed to speak.

“They are for you, Ai-chan. I want you to use them. Perhaps they can help to save you and your family from Lord Nakaguchi. They should at least be worth enough to pay the daimyo’s taxes.”

Grandfather Koi does not say goodbye, but slips down into the river. I stroke the gold in my hands. The coins are worth more than anything I have ever owned before. They will surely be enough to settle my family’s debt with the daimyo.
Then, why do I feel like crying?

A small pool of blood flashes through my memory. Grandfather Koi lied to me when he said it would not hurt. These coins came at great cost, and though I know he did not wish to worry me, the truth of their full cost was there in a pool of red that disappeared into the river.
He must love me very much.

The feeling is mutual. I have never been given a gift so precious and costly before.

“Thank you, Grandfather Koi,” I whisper to the silent river before I leave.

Mother is still sleeping when I enter the house. A new fear steals into my heart that she may never wake again. What will we do then? Father is sleeping next to her, holding her tightly. I wonder if he shares the same fear.

I take the two gold coins into my room, and wrap them carefully in a soft sheet of washi. The paper is so thin that it is nearly translucent. I slip the wrapped coins into the folds of my kimono, next to my heart, before I lay down to sleep.

Kaito is sitting in our spot, his back resting against the giant maple tree. The maple tree’s leaves have turned to brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow-gold. I have never realized before that in my dreams, our maple tree has always been green, full and verdant. Even in the midst of winter, this place of my dreams is always full of life.