“It’s true. Nobody worries about them. But they don’t usually make cliffs fall.” She picked up a wooden box and showed it to the empty air. “Mother, should I bring this, too?”
Yuki stepped out of the house. Akakiba leaned against the wall next to the door, as if waiting for an escape attempt. All told, the little girl didn’t seem traumatized by the idea of leaving. How badly had the other children treated her? No matter; that was over. He had other concerns to address right now.
“That was insulting, you coming to me first,” he said, not because he wanted to start a fight, but because Akakiba didn’t seem to understand this kind of thing without being told. He might as well get into the habit of explaining everything; it might prevent misunderstandings. “I’m not as helpless as a little girl, whatever you think. I’d rather you’d have helped her before me.”
Akakiba gave him an unreadable look. “Don’t put other people in danger, then. It doesn’t matter who they are. I’ll always pick you over them.”
“But—”
“Jien’s here.” Akakiba pushed away from the wall. “Let’s get going.”
Jien waved when Yuki turned his way. “Sorry I interrupted,” he said, his grin dimmer than usual. “He was as good as confessing to you, wasn’t he?”
“Confessing? What—” The meaning caught up with him and stole his speech for long seconds. “You think that was a confession?”
“As close as you’re likely to get from him. I’m jealous, really.” His words should have sounded like a joke, but there was no mirth in them, only bitterness.
“Jealous? Why—Since when—Are you—” Too many questions were shoving at each other on his tongue, cutting each other off.
“Don’t worry about it.” Jien patted him on the shoulder as if comforting him. “I ruined my chance a long time ago. Now, how about I get the girl and we get going?”
Yuki stared at Jien’s retreating back. He had so many questions his head might explode.
Confessing? Akakiba? Could those words even go together?
Jien having feelings for Akakiba was almost as strange. When had that happened? What did he mean, ruined his chance?
Sanae appeared, her fox shape as brilliantly red as usual.
Hey, Yuki. Did I miss anything? What? Why are you laughing?
Chapter Four
Jien
T
he scribe welcomed their return with that unimpressed look of his, an expression that conveyed both “I will bear this ordeal with patience,” and, “I wish you would all fall off a cliff.”
“This is not a picnic,” he said icily as he eyed the little girl. “Children are not welcome.”
The lumbering brute who seemed to operate under the delusion he was party leader charged into the gathering and into the conversation. “Where have you kidnapped this child from? Fear not, child! I will return you to your parents!”
The little girl retreated behind Jien, using him as a shield. “Don’t touch me.”
“Her parents are dead and you’re scaring her,” Jien said. “Go away.”
Hachiro dropped his arms. “I did not mean to frighten you, child.” His tone softened dramatically as he added, “If you need me, you need only call and I will come.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding doubtful.
Jien made a shooing gesture with his free hand. “This is Great Temple business and therefore none of your concern.” Why would a child need rescue from him, huh? Did he look like a child murderer?
“Everything is my concern,” the scribe said, aggravated. “We—”
Akakiba cut him off. “Are we ready to leave yet? Time could be short.”
The scribe drew himself up. “We appear to have lost a day because half the party felt this was a good time to go exploring without warning. I therefore postponed the opening of the chest. If there are no further delays, perhaps we can go ahead.”
Akakiba copied the icy tone as he answered, “Half the party feared we may not have been given all the facts about the situation. We went to gather information. Why didn’t you tell us the region is plagued by earthquakes?”
“We did not consider minor earthquakes relevant to the mission. Do you feel they are somehow related?”
“Even if they aren’t, they could grow stronger and more dangerous as we go.”
“I will consider the possibility.”
Jien slipped away while nobody was paying attention to him, child in tow. Aito sat by a tent of a size suitable to shelter four fleshy people and one fox spirit. His opinion of the scribe rose. Nobody else had ever provided him with a tent. This was a whole new world of luxury!
He ushered the girl in front of Aito. “Did you see what happened or do I have to explain?”
“I saw,” Aito said, studying the child. “Have the scribe put her on the ship. I understand it’s going back soon.”
“Who’s going to handle her over there?”
“Master Toshishiro will be pleased to take her in.”
“I feel you’re overlooking something important. She’s a girl. They won’t let her stay at the temple.”
“I don’t want to go to a temple,” the little girl said. “They’re full of monks. You can’t make me go.”
Jien hadn’t noticed Sanae was with them, but she was; she snapped at the air.
Don’t get any ideas, wispy, or I’ll eat you.
“Leave my mother alone!”
Sanae shot Jien a look—oh, hadn’t anybody told her about the little girl and her “mother”?
Tell her to be nice and I will.
Aito must have done something because the little girl stared at him. “You have ghosts, too.”
“There’s a man at the temple who is like us,” Aito said. “He taught me. He’ll be happy to have someone else to teach. He won’t let anyone bother you. If you’re especially good, he’ll give you sweets.”
“I like sweets,” the little girl said, almost grudgingly. “What kind?”
Now child-free, Jien escaped in the opposite direction. He did want the little girl safe, but knowing a couple children had died on her say-so made it impossible to take a true liking to her. If Toshishiro could teach her why murdering people was wrong, then great, let him have her.
The glyphed swords were in a bulky chest meant to contain their hunger. The best place for these cursed things would have been the bottom of the ocean, far out of reach. Too bad they needed them to defeat a god. Assuming they did find a god in need of defeating.
The chest was presently open, a dozen men clustered near it. Akakiba was there, but his scowl said he didn’t want to be.
“Are there any preferences about who gets which sword?” the scribe asked. “I understand samurai are particular about such things.”
“I’ll take this one,” Akakiba said, lifting out the one on the right.
“And why should you get first choice?” Hachiro said, lifting his chin challengingly.
“It’s the only one that hasn’t already eaten part of my life force,” Akakiba said evenly. “I assume it’ll be slightly less eager to kill me than the other two.”
“Hm, yes,” the scribe said. “I understand these powered swords are quite hungry. Keep this in mind while practicing. It would be unpleasant if you accidentally killed your training partners.”
Hachiro looked as if he’d been expecting sweets and instead been handed a live snake. “I see,” he said. “I shall apply caution.” He gingerly lifted the remaining swords and, after studying them a moment, handed one to the woman at his side.
Jien was completely unsurprised to see Hachiro had kept the original sword, the legendary Soul Eater, for himself and given the inferior copy to his partner. When all this was over, odds were that the giant man would try to sneak away without returning the sword. But that was a problem for later. Much, much later.
The woman weighted her new weapon and shoved it in place at her waist. “It will do.”
The scribe closed the chest. “Please take time to practice—carefully. We will proceed onward in two days.”
The emperor’s men dispersed, most trailing after Hachiro.
Jien darted in, blocking the scribe’s way. “Hey, when’s the ship leaving?”
“Soon. Why, would you like to be on board? That can be arranged.”
“You really are Aki’s lost twin, aren’t you? I knew it!” He waved a hand to preempt any reply. “Never mind, never mind. We need the child shipped to the Great Eastern Temple. There’s a demon following her.” It was almost true and that was enough truth for anybody. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want it causing trouble here.”
The scribe pursed his lips. “There’s a free cabin, but I must talk to the captain first. A young girl cannot be left unsupervised among sailors. They’re almost as bad as swordsmen. Is the demon likely to be a problem?”
“We’ll arrange to keep an eye on her,” Jien said. If the little girl’s wild familiar seemed likely to be a problem, maybe Sanae could go along. As annoying as the emperor’s men could be, they hadn’t yet proven hostile. They probably didn’t plan to attack and murder everybody on the pro-fox side. He’d faced and survived worse odds than “probably.”
“Very well,” the scribe said. “I’ll come for her when it’s time to board.”
“Thank you.”
The scribe frowned as if being thanked was somehow distasteful. He absolutely
was
Akakiba’s lost twin.
In the end, it wasn’t necessary to send Sanae on escort duty; Aito had somehow convinced the little girl to let him tattoo her familiar spirit into her skin.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Jien said, watching in fascination as a figure wearing clothes with floor-length sleeves danced up and down the little girl’s arm.
She went around the fire, showing her dancing “mother” to everybody. Was it a novelty for her to be listened to? If she’d been telling people she could talk with her mother’s ghost… That might explain why she’d ended up alone and excluded.
“It took a woman’s shape,” Aito murmured. He spoke as if it was significant in some way.
Jien poked him. “Are you going to explain why that’s important or just bask in your superior knowledge?”
“Spirits usually favor an animal or plant shape,” Aito said, lifting his sleeve to reveal a bird, a raccoon dog, and a tree on his skin. “I’ll do the fourth when we leave, but I already know it will shape itself as a monkey.”
“Hers taking human shape means, what? Is it a ghost, after all?”
“Partly, perhaps. It might have been partially tainted by her mother’s death, not enough to forget its own nature but enough to form an attachment to the child. She’s at the age where lures begin to attract spirits, so it might have latched onto her right away. Because of this connection, it might never cleanse itself of her mother’s death touch.”
“We could try cleansing it.”
“The girl wouldn’t allow us to try. Let Master Toshishiro decide whether it needs to be cleansed.”
“If you say so. I fully approve of passing tricky problems to someone else.”
Go away!
Sanae said. Everybody turned to look at her. She appeared to be talking to a flying squirrel sitting near.
Off with you, I said!
The squirrel scurried closer, sitting by her unsubstantial feet, chattering happily.
“He likes you,” Yuki said, reaching out with a few nuts. “Hey, squirrel. Want one?”
Huge black eyes considered the offering, but the squirrel didn’t come any closer.
“Don’t feed the wildlife,” Akakiba said. He handled his fancy sword gingerly, wrapping its handle in a layer of cloth. That done, he put the sword on the ground and glowered as if it could thus be cowed into behaving.
“You eat them,” Yuki said, pressing the nuts in Akakiba’s hand.
The flying squirrel rose up on his back paws, nose twitching, and then ran up onto Akakiba’s knee and stared at him.
Akakiba stared back. “No. These are mine.”
The squirrel stared.
Yuki elbowed Akakiba. “Share.”
A nut was surrendered. The squirrel grabbed it with tiny paws and stuffed in his mouth.
Maybe he’ll follow you instead of me, now,
Sanae said.
“Handle your own troubles,” Akakiba said, brushing the squirrel off his leg. The furry critter went back to sit by Sanae.
The fall of darkness was an excuse for some people to stop training and start drinking. Or so Jien guessed from the loud voices coming from the other side of camp. He scowled in the drinkers’ direction. “Why do they have sake and we don’t? I’ll go find the scribe and complain. I deserve to get drunk more than they do; I was almost killed today!”
Aito looked up. “The party appears to be moving our way.”
Jien grinned, happy again. “I love drunken brawls. Especially when the other guy is too drunk to remember whether he’s supposed to hold the sword by the pointy bit or the not-pointy one.” He stopped, remembering what kind of swords were in play here. Even the not-pointy bit could be dangerous.
Hachiro stumbled into the circle of light thrown out by their fire, the Soul Eater in hand. “Fox,” he boomed, “train with me! If I can have no proof of your loyalty, I wish to have proof of your skill!”
“You’re drunk,” Akakiba said flatly. “Come back when you’re sober. I’m not in the mood to become a casualty of a convenient drunken accident.”
“How dare you accuse me of treachery, Fox! Are my suspicions not fair? Is it not reasonable to suspect a fox might hold greater loyalty to his god than to a human emperor?”
He does have a point,
Sanae said.
If it weren’t for the fact bringing her back to our world is hurting everybody else, I’d be cheering for Inari.
Hachiro pointed an accusing finger at her. “You! You stole
Momonga
!”
What—The flying squirrel is named “flying squirrel”? Really?
Hachiro paused. “You’re right. He would be confused if we were talking about other squirrels. ‘Momo’ would be better.” The accusing finger came out again. “You stole Momo!”
Go ahead and take him back. I don’t want him.
The big man slumped. “I must respect his wishes. He has reasons to prefer you, for you helped him most.” Whirling, he pointed at Akakiba. “Fight me!”
The scribe’s arrival was probably not a coincidence. He had his “I hate you all” scowl on. “You may not fight each other with swords. Especially not these swords. Especially not when either party is drunk. Anyone found initiating such a fight will have his swords taken away. Am I clear?” He didn’t wait for answers. “I will take custody of the girl now. The captain is waiting to meet her. He will ensure she reaches her destination safely.”
Under normal circumstances, Jien might have been leery of entrusting a small girl to strange men. But this one had inbuilt defenses. If the captain weren’t an honorable man, the girl’s “mother” would react violently.
The little girl went without a word, but she did turn and wave at Aito as she walked away with her hand hidden in the scribe’s elegant one. There it was, proof the scribe was one of those people whose terrible attitude concealed soft spots. They really ought to find out what the scribe’s name was.
“Heyyy, wait,” he said, belatedly noticing something else. “Aito, why do you get a wave for repeatedly pricking her with a needle, but I don’t get one for saving her life on the cliff?”
“Mystery,” Aito murmured.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
He forgot about the matter the second he realized Akakiba had gotten to his feet to stand in Hachiro’s personal space. Somebody was trying to provoke a fight and that somebody wasn’t even him!
“You heard the scribe,” Akakiba said. “No fighting. You and your paranoid delusions may leave.”
Hachiro’s teeth ground together audibly. “Is this how you address the valid worries of your future battle companions?”
“Unfounded accusations are not valid. We have never given humans cause to distrust us. You would know this if your muscles weren’t so oversized they squeeze out your wits.”
Hachiro’s eyes darted aside, as if checking whether the scribe was anywhere near. His desire to stab Akakiba was painfully obvious. Akakiba’s desire to get him to draw first was pretty obvious, too.
Jien clapped his hands loudly. “What about me? I also have complaints about my honor! In your eagerness to brand the foxes potential traitors to the human race, you forgot Great Temple monks are their allies. Are you calling us traitors, too, or are you implying we’re too dumb to distinguish ally from enemy?”
“A man with too kind a heart may be tricked by the wicked,” Hachiro said.
“A man with too few wits may resort to easy and baseless accusations,” Jien shot back.
The big man’s frown was like a brewing thunderstorm. “I have no quarrel with you, monk.”
“When you have a quarrel with my comrades, you have a quarrel with me.” Jien unfolded his tall body, leaving his spear on the ground. “I’m past tired of your insults.”
The scribe said no fighting,
Sanae said.
Is anybody going to listen? I suppose not.
“Scribe never said we weren’t allowed to fight, only that we couldn’t fight with swords. Aki’s a true swordsman, but I’m not difficult.” Jien flexed his hands and rolled them into fists. “Try me, big guy. You’re loud, but is that all you’ve got?”
Hachiro shoved the Soul Eater at Akakiba, who made a noise like a snarl and passed it on to Aito, who dropped it to the ground as if the thing were on fire. Sanae scooted away, a wise move. Just because these swords didn’t currently seem strong enough to hurt her or anyone else without direct contact—not without the help of an energy sink anyway—didn’t mean she should be careless.
“I accept your challenge,” Hachiro intoned. He lumbered closer, hands curled into meaty fists.
Jien dove low, extending a leg and swiping the man off his feet. “First strike!”