Glossary: Eiga: splendor; pomp and circumstance; the need to put on an impressive show when an important festival rolls around. (The Christmas decorations in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania are an excellent example; if your town is called Bethlehem, then your Christmas decorations had better be good. And theirs are.) Tanka: a five-line poem, the first and third lines consisting of five syllables each, the second, fourth and fifth consisting of seven syllables each. Many of the poems the sorceresses have been using to direct their energies are tanka, though of course I've been doing them in English, and I gather the effect is very different. Bo, ho, cho: measures of distance, relevant only in the City -- one bo is the length of a city block, roughly 1/3 of a mile; one ho is 1/2 of a bo, and one cho is 1/2 of a ho. Easy-peasy.
VII. The Wind That Shakes The Barley
The sun was low in the sky. Above, and in the east, a canopy of clouds had obscured everything, so that the sinking sun shone in from under a vast, impenetrable grey roof. The Western Market was filled with sly faces and nervous faces, as well as the occasional blank, unconcerned face. Shadows were long and deep between stalls and buildings.
Yumi set about to hide herself as best she could. She found a place between two storehouses where storage had overflowed and many goods were stacked in tiers or lying in heaps, with bits of cloth or leaves sticking out between the close ribs of rattan baskets. She slunk in the long shadows to avoid notice, and found a little cubby hole among the cases, tucked away out of sight. She folded herself up and hid her face in her knees.
Alone again.
It was worse this time, because the memories of her former friends, the friends she'd turned away from, tormented her. They'd all been so kind to her. Especially one.
She didn't know how she was going to live without Sachiko-sama.
That was silly, she knew it was. She wiped her eyes on the elbow-length sleeve of her tunic, which was already grimy, both with her many tears and with the dust of the city. She'd lived a whole life without even knowing who Sachiko-sama was until the day before yesterday. Still, she felt as if she'd torn half of herself off, leaving this new version of herself to just limp around the world, confused, and bleeding, and in pain.
But what else could she do?
She thought about Tsujimoto no Fujito. As much as she hated and feared him, she had to admit that it was thanks to him she'd been with Sachiko-sama even just for a couple of days, two days in springtime. She'd met Sachiko-sama on her own, granted, but had been too terrified by her to say anything. And she'd hurt herself on that stone running away from her, too...
Her foot had kept on throbbing after that. She'd spent the rest of the day limping from place to place along Red Bird Avenue and between the Eastern and Western Markets. She'd had no luck finding anyone who'd give her a little food and, after she became desperate, no luck stealing any either. The City was even more cold-hearted today than usual.
Finally, along about mid-evening, in the Western Market, she'd seen an opening, and almost succeeded in pinching a strip of fried meat from a vendor. She was weary and dizzy from hunger, and one moment she'd had her fingers on the meat, certain that his back was turned, and the next she'd been running for her life as he chased her with a cudgel, screaming unintelligibly -- mostly unintelligibly -- even fleeing in terror she could pick out the occasional word, such as "filth," "rat-farts," and "dog's breakfast," but she couldn't string them together into any kind of coherent sentence. Though she suspected she was going to be a "dog's breakfast" herself. He'd finally cornered her between two stalls. He'd got so overexcited it seemed he'd burst a vessel in his nose, and blood was running down into his sparse mustache and beard. His eyes had fairly glowed, he'd reared back with the cudgel screaming, and Yumi had darted out between his legs, with a speed and oiliness born of terror, and nudged his right leg enough as she went so that he lost his balance as he tried to turn and follow her, and she was just aware of him falling among some empty cases, shrieking curses.
She'd sped nimbly away, hoping to avoid other pursuers. But at the bottom of the block, in a little alleyway, leaning against a post and panting, it seemed that there was no pursuit -- and also that she had well-nigh exhausted herself. She would not have the energy for another such encounter tonight.
...but the longer she went without food, the less energy she would have for such encounters on any succeeding day. Sleep could only do so much --
"Good evening."
Three men were coming toward her, down the alley.
She felt like crying as she stood. She was tired. All she wanted was a little food, and a little sleep. Her chances of outrunning these men in her current state were not good. Well, crying wouldn't help anything either. She crouched there by the pillar, looking for an opening. There was only darkness further up the alley, and she couldn't be sure of an escape route that way. Her best way out was past these men...
"I saw that remarkable performance," said the tallest of the three men. He wore a headband and white robes. "I was most impressed. I should very much like to commission you to undertake a task of some danger and importance."
Yumi blinked. It wasn't as if the words were completely unfamiliar, but no one talked to her like that these days, and her brain was rusty.
"Moment, Tsuji-sama," said one of the other men. He stepped forward. "Hallo, sweetheart. I'm Ichiki. Ichiki the Twister, as I'm known among those in the know. Maybe you've heard of me?"
Yumi had heard whispers, here and there about the Market, of a notorious thief who went by that name. She nodded.
"Good! And I'm a little surprised I haven't heard of you, yet. I have never seen anyone move that fast, and I have seen some fast movers in my day, I am here to tell you. I'm reckoned pretty fast myself, in some quarters, and... Well, never mind. From your taking such a risk over a piece of food, I guess you're hungry, eh?"
Yumi nodded vehemently.
"As I thought. Well, Tsuji-sama here is of a mind to feed you. Only thing is, you've got to work for your food."
Yumi braced herself to flee. When men said "work for your food," they usually meant only one thing. This thing had never happened to her, but she had seen it happen to someone else once, and it wasn't happening to her if she could help it. She really thought she would rather die. Or... could these be demons? Thinking it over, they didn't look the sort of men who'd want her to "work for her food" in that wet, bloody, disagreeable way -- they weren't wealthy, but they looked comfortable enough to be able to afford a cleaner, better-dressed kind of woman. If they were men. Demons, now... the ones who would just sneak up on you and go for your liver were bad enough, but there were others who looked for some kind of subtle bargain. If they were offering her a little food in exchange for her letting them eat a little of her at a time -- like she was a lot of pickled fruit in their larder -- well. She was awfully hungry. Were there any parts of her body that she didn't particularly need?...
The Twister-san was laughing. "Girl, I wish I was a painter so's I could take all the different expressions that cross your face when you're thinking. Thinking horrible things, it looks like. How can you have that much gruesomeness to think on when I haven't even told you the offer yet?... Oi, Tsuji-sama, are you sure you wouldn't rather keep her as a pet? Hours of entertainment!..."
"Quite sure," said Tsuji-sama.
"Barrel o'laughs," Yumi could have sworn she heard Ichiki-san mutter as he turned back toward her. "Long story short, and so your face can relax more, we want to send you on an expedition. There's this young lady, lives at an inn not far from here. She is in possession of an item we'd like to have in our possession. Now, me and Shinji, we're skilled thieves. But this is a pretty particular expedition, and, well, the smaller and faster you are, the better your chances. You're small, and we've seen you're fast, as well as lucky. So we'd like to engage you for this easy, pleasant little job, and we will buy you a meal in exchange. Sound good?"
Yumi had tried stealing once today, and it hadn't helped anything. She wasn't good at stealing, as this Tsuji-sama seemed to think. She was good at running away, but that was different. And she was tired and hungry, enough so that she very much doubted that, if the scene of the market just now were repeated, she would be able to escape as before. But she was also tired and hungry enough to be desperate.
"Yes, I'll take the job, Masters, only... Can I have... a little food now?" she asked.
Ichiki-san looked at Tsuji-sama.
"Oh, no no no," said Tsuji-sama wisely. "I think not. No paying without work. I think that's sensible, don't you , Ich?"
"S'pose it is," Ichiki-san said.
The third man had said nothing and no-one had spoken to him. He appeared to be irritable and uninterested in anything much. He was the youngest of the three by a good bit, neither plain nor handsome. Yumi quickly saw that it was a matter of disinterest to him, whether she got fed or not. But he did occasionally stare at her suspiciously.
He gave her a bad moment once, later in the evening, when the lady's lights had gone out, but they were still waiting, for good measure. She'd been curling her toes in the dirt and sand of the alleyway by the porch, across the street from the Mountain Lily Inn. She was testing the muscles, the remembering muscles -- a reflex, when she was bored -- and she found that the young one was staring at her in horror. She stopped it at once, and did her best to pretend that there was nothing happening. The moment had passed.
The wait had been long, for the lady to go to bed so that she could do the theft. During, she did not become less weary and hungry, and she felt her chances of success diminish as her force did. She had thought this would happen, had thought of trying to explain that to these men, but Tsuji-sama had a cold, unapproachable look in spite of his constant smile. Waiting there under the eaves of the empty house she'd had a bad feeling about this business, but even if the lady woke up, well, all she had to do was run...
They had not mentioned that the lady was a sorceress. So possibility of failure and flight had become certainty of death, in that moment when dark, bloody light had filled the room and the sorceress had boomed at her, in the voice of a demon. And Yumi knew demons' voices, yes she did.
And then, Sachiko-sama had beheld her, in that light -- and Yumi's whole life had changed, right then.
What had Sachiko-sama seen in her face? Yumi still didn't know. The furious, terrifying look on Sachiko-sama's face had melted, softened into gentle amazement in the change of her burning hand from red to blue.
Another moment of fear, when Rei-sama had threatened her. But Sachiko-sama had protected her.
From then on, Yumi, tired and hungry and worried as she was, had been in a unique state of mind, best summed up in the phrase, what you will. Sachiko-sama had had mercy on her and protected her, and Sachiko-sama was the most wonderful living creature Yumi had ever seen. What you will. I will do whatever you say, as long as I may stay here with you.
She hadn't expected it to be for long. Beyond the need to be with Sachiko-sama had been the growing conviction that she was all wrong for Sachiko-sama, and would only hold her back, drag her down. Sachiko-sama had to see this, sooner or later... probably had seen it by now. When Satou-sama told Sachiko-sama that Yumi had allowed herself to be ensorcelled, and then had been so ungrateful as to run away... Even if Yumi did go back to Sachiko-sama, she most likely wouldn't be welcome. And it was just as well --
Something slithered, in a nearby alleyway. Something big. The clever, oily sound went right to the marrow of Yumi's bones. Not them again... please... not now...
She was on her feet. This was an awfully familiar situation. She had been running for much of the afternoon, she hadn't had a proper meal since morning (shaved ice with liana syrup, while indeed elegant and delicious, is curiously unfilling), and she was tired. But it seemed that she was never to be allowed any rest, any peace, for the rest of her existence, which was likely to be extremely brief --
"Yumi?" A low, gentle voice, like educated woodsmoke. A voice Yumi would know again anywhere, if even a thousand years had passed. Sachiko-sama's voice.
She nearly fell for it. In spite of the slither she'd heard only a moment ago, the voice was so artfully imitated that she had actually taken three running steps toward the alley mouth before her mind overruled her body and stopped its desperate hurling itself toward comfort, warmth, love, and sudden destruction. She almost overbalanced but managed to steady herself, her bare toes clutching at dust.
"Yumiii..."
The thing came out of the alley.
It knew it wasn't fooling anyone. It kept Sachiko-sama's form, but improvised on it as Yumi watched: the hair waving about it in windblown tendrils in spite of the still air; the eyes sunken and smoldering -- mostly blind, she knew, it relied on its ears and especially on its nose -- and the fingernails long, yellow, and caked with dirt. Its slow, measured, stiff, jerky steps were a crude jeering parody of Sachiko-sama's stately walk.
"Yumi," it crooned sweetly, twisting Yumi's heart around its voice, "come to me. I miss you, Yumi." Still Sachiko-sama's voice, but with a low growl in it, like a stalking cat.
Yumi backed away from the thing. She was weeping, but furious, and shaking her head. "Don't you dare -- use Sachiko-sama that way -- you are not worthy -- wearing her, like a gown -- she could tie you in knots, if she was here --"
"Oh, indeed?" the filthy thing purred happily. "I would like to see that... Take me to her."
Yumi tried to back further -- and felt constrained. A line, connecting her to the false goddess before her -- a leash?
A black thread. It shone with a terrible energy.
"You will take me to her," the beast cried, almost singing with joy in a baritone and an alto at the same time.
"No!" Yumi screamed. "No --"
It laughed, so that a long dog's tongue lolled horribly out of Sachiko-sama's mouth. Then it was holding a whip.
"Lead on," it said, and flicked the whip at Yumi's face --
-- and, with a speed and strength born of desperation, and of her terrible fury over the insult of the tongue, Yumi caught the whip, and yanked on it as hard as she could.
The Demon stumbled.
The constraint was gone.
And Yumi ran.
She was running west, it occurred to her, as she heard the gobbling rage of the thing pursuing her. The setting sun was straight ahead. She collected her thoughts as much as she could, with her death pursuing her, and the last sunset of her life staring her in the face. It began to rain, which did not help her concentration, and almost pushed her to the edge of despair, but she kept running. Maybe she could use the rain to her advantage somehow. But as soon as she could, she had to turn south. Then, at the City wall, east. She had to get out of the City. She was sure she had a better chance of escape and concealment outside the City, though all her chances were fading to nothing. But she had to get as far away from the Mountain Lily Inn as she could --
Her feet remembered, and left the ground --
The City was gone. The night was filled with shrieking shapes, some with banners stretched behind, all with songs that tried to pluck her head from off its sure perch, stabbing shrieks of fire between stars. Something yanked on her neck and she gasped for breath --
When her feet touched again, it was in the dust of Ninth Street, one bo to the south of where she had been. Just a few steps from the southern wall of the City.
Immediately, she turned eastward.
Her arm was stinging. From when she'd caught the whip, she realized. It might be bleeding, but she had no time to look. She heard the Demon howl with rage, away in the north. She seemed to have stretched the black thread that bound her to the thing. But unless she could break it somehow, the Demon would be able to find her. And as long as she was heading east and it was heading south, it would catch her soon. It would catch her soon wherever she went. She sobbed, and then controlled herself. If she wept now it would interfere with the measured breathing she needed to run. She had been a blind fool, and she had to get it away from Sachiko-sama. One last game, then, a voice said. A game to see whether there will be more games, and a life to have them in.
--
In the main audience chamber of the Pure and Fresh Palace, a tall oil-lamp flared at either hand of the seated Emperor and the standing Fujiwara no Yukinaga. Before them, abased on the floor, was the disgraced and recusant Tsujimoto no Fujito. He was waiting to find out what ghastly thing they were going to do to him. There were two Imperial guards posted at the door, both in "silent death stance" mode with their rattan armor and flat conical hats, and their purple sashes. They were there to quell any local insurgency, should one insurge. The Emperor was thinking. Fujiwara no Yukinaga was there to help the Emperor to think. The Emperor wished his Uncle wouldn't try to be so helpful all the time.
"Of course, you do know the penalty for breaking your banishment," said Fujiwara no Yukinaga to the man on the floor. "It is death. So, in good sooth, there is really very little for us to talk about."
"I beg of you!" said a new voice.
Kashiwagi no Suguru came forward and prostrated himself next to Tsujimoto no Fujito. "I beg of you, your Imperial Majesty, do not kill him!..."
"Prince Suguru, you are treading on thin ice yourself," said Fujiwara no Yukinaga. "You knew he was in the Capital, and you chose not to notify the Imperial Guard? And how long have you known?"
"There is no defense I can make," Prince Suguru agreed, then hurried on, "Most wise and merciful Imperial Majesty, he was my aniki. Do you have an aniki, your Majesty?"
Fujiwara no Yukinaga gave a short, harsh laugh. "The Emperor has no need of such things."
The Emperor said nothing.
"I beg of you, imagine it, your Majesty," Suguru went on. "An older brother. One who gave you guidance and help when you most needed it. A friend and a counselor, the dearest, most important friend you ever had. To turn him in would be to cut out your own heart --"
"Turning your head would be one thing," said Fujiwara no Yukinaga. "You did more. You colluded with him. What I want to hear now is the full story of your collusion: what he was up to, what exactly you were helping him to do --"
"I hardly think that's necessary," mumbled the Emperor.
There was silence like a frozen lake at midwinter. Out of the corner of one eye, the Emperor saw that Prince Suguru had risked an upward glance but couldn't tell what he was looking at, and it was important that he not break eye contact with Uncle Lord Chancellor Fujiwara. This same Uncle glared in incomprehension at the young sovereign, who did his best to be nonchalant in spite of those eyes.
"I beg your pardon?" said the Lord Chancellor.
"I feel no real need to, er, inquire into this matter further, Lord Chancellor," said the Emperor, in a slightly stronger voice. "Whatever it was they were up to, they have been foiled. And I cannot help but notice that Prince Suguru seems strangely relieved about that. Though I don't have an aniki, I do understand the concept. From Prince Suguru's behavior, I suspect that Tsujimoto no Fujito laid an obligation upon him, used his position to force cooperation from him. That is yet another thing I should feel compelled to punish Tsujimoto no Fujito for. But Prince Suguru begs forgiveness for his aniki, and makes no cause of how his aniki ill-used him -- and I am minded to grant forgiveness."
"Your Majesty -- you may be unwilling to pass a sentence of... but really, you cannot just --"
"Perhaps not, but I'm doing it anyway," the Emperor said coldly. He stood, in a swirl of robes, and when the Lord Chancellor opened his mouth again, the Emperor slashed a hand at the air between them... and the Lord Chancellor's mouth closed. In a very tight line.
"Tsujimoto no Fujito," the Emperor said, addressing that wretch in a final-judgment tone of voice, "you will go back into exile. If you break it again, the punishment will indeed be death. Prince Suguru's intervention is all that has saved you this time. It will not save you a second time. Heed this well." The Emperor turned again to his chancellor. "Have him placed under house arrest for tonight. Tomorrow a party must be got up to escort him back to Kyushu. Make sure they are careful of the Directions --"
"You forget who I am," said Fujiwara no Yukinaga darkly.
There was another one of those silences, but this one seemed to have flame licking at its edges.
The Emperor steeled himself. He was defying the man who had essentially ruled him since he was five years old. He tried to speak with the quiet confidence he had often heard in Prince Suguru's voice. "I have not forgot, my Lord Chancellor, who you are. I have remembered who I am: Rokutoru, Emperor of Nihon by right of descent from Amaterasu. Does your power derive from mine, Lord Chancellor, or mine from yours?"
Fujiwara no Yukinaga simply looked at the Emperor. He had gone strangely calm. "You put it in the form of a question, your most exalted Imperial Majesty? Well, perhaps you shall receive an answer quite soon. I am sure I shall study to please you in all ways. In the meantime, you may rely upon me to look to his Lordship's travel arrangements, and we shall be most careful of the Directions. The last thing we want is for his Lordship to run into any unmanageable amount of ill fortune."
"Well... well, that's splendid, my Lord Chancellor," the Emperor said, feeling much relieved. "I felt sure I could count on you."
"I will leave you with these stout guardsmen, and go and fetch some more to escort Tsujimoto-san to his quarters," said Fujiwara no Yukigana with great unctuousness, and slid out of the room.
The Emperor puffed out a breath. "You may both rise," he added.
They did. Prince Suguru looked solemn. Tsujimoto no Fujito looked furious.
"All, all to do again!" Tsujimoto burst out, exasperated. "A whole year of living rough, depending on the dregs of the City for my support, a life empty of even the most basic comforts, trying to dig my way back into my rightful place with my fingernails, and at the last minute... I could strangle you, Suguru!"
The Emperor's mouth dropped open.
Prince Suguru said nothing. He was looking at the doorway the Lord Chancellor had disappeared through. He seemed pensive.
"Well?" Tsujimoto no Fujito snapped. "What have you to say for yourself?"
"My failure is terrible," said Prince Suguru absently. "The weight of it shall hang on my heart forever."
"Tsujimoto-san!" The Emperor was outraged. "How can you speak to Prince Suguru so? When I told you his intervention had saved your life, was I not clear enough?"
Truthfully, the Emperor was put out for more than his spoken reasons. He had certainly not stood up to his frightening Uncle Lord Chancellor for the first time in his life just for the sake of doing this Tsujimoto animal a favor. And he wondered why the particular person he had been hoping to impress was just standing quietly, staring at the door.
"Prince Suguru --" he began.
Suguru turned his gaze to the Emperor then, and the Emperor fell silent. People seldom looked directly at him -- bad manners with an ordinary person, possible social suicide with an Emperor -- but Suguru was different.
"Your Majesty," Suguru said, "I am grateful to you for your verdict. I am all unworthy. I only pray you have truly struck your opponent and not hit yourself by mistake."
This was balm and bitterness rolled into one. "It is time I began to take the reins," the Emperor said. "I was discussing the subject with Koko-sensei only the other day."
"What are you so miserable about, Suguru?" said Tsujimoto no Fujito disgustedly, slapping the back of Prince Suguru's head lightly -- a liberty which nearly caused the top of the Emperor's head to come off. "I'm the one who's got to go walkabout all the way back to bloody Kyushu."
"Aniki," Suguru said, with enormous patience, "I will be clean astonied if you make it as far as Kyushu. Just now, in fact, the chances of your living to see the sun rise are something indeterminate."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
The Emperor didn't know what Prince Suguru meant either, but was pleased to see that Tsujimoto had lost a large measure of his overbearing self-esteem.
Prince Suguru was looking at Tsujimoto no Fujito with a disenchantment the Emperor found chilling. "What I mean is that Lord Chancellor Fujiwara may have gone to fetch your escort, or your executioners, depending."
"Depending on what, young know-all?" Tsujimoto blustered.
"Depending on whether he plans to reassert his dominion right away, or to postpone it a while for reasons of high policy." Prince Suguru's voice sounded as if it had run out of patience.
The Emperor was afraid to speak, and afraid not to. "But, Prince Suguru, Uncle wouldn't dare --"
"Oh, he would dare much, your Majesty," Suguru said earnestly, though without anger. His umbrage seemed to be reserved for his aniki, but still the Emperor had never heard him sound so serious. "The Fujiwaras are a thing apart, and the Lord Chancellor is a thing apart even from most of his kin. If he does not overturn your decision, it will certainly not be because he dares not."
The Emperor didn't know what to say. He'd always sensed that Uncle was a dangerous person, but that danger had never personally stared him in the face before...
"You know him as well as I or better, Great Emperor of All The Lands."
"But I am Emperor, as you say..."
"But you are young, my Emperor, and only just come to man's estate. He has grown old in power. I have some small reputation in craft and matters politic, as your Majesty knows, but I should not care to take on Fujiwara no Yukinaga --"
"What should I do?" The strength the Emperor had felt flowing through him had all trickled out, and he stood cold and afraid, though fortunately not alone --
"Stay calm. And guard yourself for truth. I may be overreacting, but Fujiwara no Yukinaga is not used to being crossed. If his retribution does not come tonight I am sure it will be soon --"
"What are you doing to me? Why couldn't you have been more diplomatic? -- You fool, Suguru!" Tsujimoto-san seemed to have recovered some of his phlegm, though he was obviously upset; there were definite cracks in his self-assurance.
Prince Suguru turned upon Tsujimoto-san then. He was angry, angrier than the Emperor had ever seen him. "Fool? I was a fool, yes, Aniki. I was a fool to cooperate with you. I was a fool to trust you when you said you had a good plan. There is nothing left in you worth trusting. Ill-decision seems to be a mortal malady with you, and a contagion as well. Now for your sake, I have committed the serious crime of aiding and abetting a known fugitive; I have assisted in your molestation, caused the flight, the loss -- I hope no worse! -- of a young woman who never did me any harm that I know of, and in so doing, have greatly widened and deepened -- perhaps permanently -- the rift between me and my cousin Sachiko. Fujiwara no Yukinaga is angry with me, my cousin is angry with me, and what my uncle Ogasawara is going to say about all this, on his return from the Middle Kingdom, I can only guess. And, in the face of all this, I have further leaned over the precipice that lies before me, by begging for your life."
"What are you saying, Suguru?..." Tsujimoto-san seemed poleaxed.
"I'm saying that, after this catastrophe, you will have to shift for yourself, Aniki. I have incurred enough trouble on your behalf, and with nothing to show for it but still more trouble."
"You think you can just cast me aside, as if I were nothing --"
Prince Suguru brought his hands together, clap, very loudly. Tsujimoto-san fell silent, apparently bewildered by Prince Suguru's behavior.
"I have stood in this chamber with you," Prince Suguru went on, "waiting for the return of the Lord Chancellor, which may mean both our deaths. And have you, my aniki, my older brother, my teacher, my friend, any real understanding of the situation? No. You curse everyone and everything but your own wilful foolhardiness, which alone is responsible for your position. And you have ignored the Emperor... the Emperor... on the two occasions he has spoken to you. The same Emperor who has just defied Fujiwara no Yukinaga for your sake.
"The conclusion I am irresistibly driven to, Aniki, is that I am talking to a man who is too stupid to live.
"Can you make an objective assessment of your recent actions, and offer me any rational contradiction of my conclusion? Bluster and footless counter-accusations don't count."
Tsujimoto no Fujito was silent. He seemed to have turned in on himself. He was pale, and trembling slightly. Beads of sweat on his forehead glistered in the torchlight.
Three more guardsmen came in, these in "search-and-seizure" mode. They surrounded Tsujimoto no Fujito, two of them taking his arms, and took him out of the room. As he went out he started and stopped a great many sentences -- most of them did not sound promising -- and cast many a pleading look at Prince Suguru, who stood like a stone.
The Lord Chancellor came in as they went out. "Well, well," he said. "I apologise for my outburst a few minutes ago, your Majesty. Your mercifulness was praiseworthy; I could only wish you possessed of a rock-hard practicality in addition to't. Prince Suguru, you get off clean this time, you lucky young rogue, because his Majesty is merciful." He chuckled. "But be more careful in future, eh?"
"You are quite right, my Lord Chancellor," Prince Suguru said agreeably. "My error was a necessary one, but I do recognise it as an error. Had His Imperial Majesty decided against me, I would have no grounds for complaint. And, if this sets your mind at rest, I consider any obligation I had to my aniki quite discharged, and I cannot think, offhand, of anyone else on whose behalf I would be so foolish and improvident as to defy the laws of the land."
Fujiwara no Yukinaga laughed heartily -- a social laugh, but it sounded genuine enough. "I will hold you to that, Prince Suguru."
They parted, with many protestations of good will.
The Emperor, for his part, walked back to his personal residence. His uncle had seemed much pleasanter after returning from fetching Tsujimoto-san's escort. Ordinarily, he would have assumed that all was smoothed over, and Uncle had decided to be forgiving. But Prince Suguru's words stayed in his head. Prince Suguru was a most sagacious man -- he most often spoke in a light, casual voice, the voice of a man who might at any moment float away like a dandelion-clock, but his feet were firmly planted on the ground. Rokutoru had often gone to him for advice, because he'd begun to be suspicious, and perhaps fearful, of Uncle's advice. Prince Suguru, because of his family background, and his position as Assistant Chief of the Bureau of Commerce, had in his head a good deal of information about the workings of the Government.
"Most of it, I've had to glean where and how I could," he had sighed, during their first conversation on the subject two years earlier. "In fact, the Director, Koyei-sama, regards the job as a sinecure, and spends most of his time socializing and making trips to Mt. Hiei, so that I am, de facto, Acting Chief, and the day-to-day business of running the Bureau is in my hands. But I had not been there one month before I found that, even with a tolerably complete picture in my head of its workings, who was doing what, and so on, there was a great deal of business being done about which I had cause to know from overhearing conversations among my father, my uncle Ogasawara, and Fujiwara no Ryuusuke, and which was not being so much as monitored by anyone at the Bureau."
"Really?" Rokutoru hated to remember himself as he'd been then. Such a child. Clumsy. Uncouth.
But Prince Suguru had, then and always, paid him the great compliment of taking him seriously. "Truly, Your Imperial Majesty. In fact, most of our time is spent on ceremony. Oh, and parties. We drink quite a bit of wine, at the Bureau. And exchange poems. Some of the fellows have a remarkable grasp of the tanka, and also of various Chinese forms of --"
"But... the business?"
"Precisely, your majesty. We do some real work, in fact. I would say that perhaps a tenth part of all the business I know about through my outside connections does pass under my hands at the Bureau. But no more. If we are not monitoring and promulgating commerce, who is? There's quite a bit of money being made, as I have good cause to know. And mine certainly isn't the only wealthy family in the Capital. The eiga seems to spiral us towards divinity at times, but in fact it is earthly, and must be paid for. Rice tithes from family estates account for much of it. But not all."
"Can you not get this under control, Prince Suguru?"
"I don't know. Yet." Prince Suguru had smiled then. "You may be sure, your Imperial Majesty, that I will tell you as soon as I do know."
Sighing and shaking his head a little as he entered his chambers from the garden door, the Emperor was accosted by three of his four ladies-in-waiting, and by his dog. There was much earnest entreaty and barking going on, and his mind had difficulty switching gears. "Hold on, hold on!" he cried. "Give a fellow a chance to catch his breath!"
"But, your Majesty!" Kaoru said, shrieking to make herself heard over the others, "Naga can stand on his head!"
"What? You're joking!" The Emperor knelt to face his dog. "They're joking, aren't they, Naga?"
"Ruf!" said Naga, wagging his tail in his enthusiastic way that made his whole back end jump around.
"Not a joke," said old Shikibu, his fourth lady-in-waiting, from her cushion in the far corner. "They've been making him do it, over and over, for about an hour altogether." She sipped at a cup she was holding. "And right entertaining it's been, too."
The three girls grabbed him anew, Taka at his left arm, Mika at his right, and Kaoru at the front of his robes. "You'll see!" Kaoru squealed. "My word upon it!"
"You'll be amazed, your Majesty!" said Taka.
"The Greatest Wonder of the World!" said Mika.
As it turned out, Naga could about halfway stand on his head, the head and the forepaws being well-braced, but for the rest of him, no balance; he could never stay upright for very long before his hind legs were kicking for purchase in thin air, and then the whole of him was flopping down. This part of the exercise was the cause of much merriment. But Naga garnered much praise nevertheless, for, as Mika pointed out, though he did not stand on his head very well, no one could recall hearing of any dog standing on his head at all, and it was therefore the most astonishing feat, deserving the widest possible fame.
Shikibu coughed a bit, and spat into her empty cup.
--
"Very interesting," Satou-san said. She was smiling in a way that made Shinji a bit uncomfortable.
"I thought it uncanny at the time," Shinji said. "It seems to mean something to you, though. May I ask?..."
"Oh, it just fits so well with my own observations," Satou-san said happily. "I'm not used to being right so many times in one day... Grains of sand dancing around her feet? And you didn't run screaming like a banshee?"
Banshee? Shinji shook his head. "Well, I might have done, but the light wasn't good, and I grabbed for Aniki's shoulder, but he'd wandered to the other end of the porch, and when I looked again, I didn't see anything. I suppose I preferred to think I'd been imagining it, but looking back, I don't think I was. You think -- you think the girl's not human, then?"
"Oh, Yumi's human," Satou-san averred. "Yes, she is. Very intensely human, our Yumi. But she's very intensely something else as well."
"What, then?" Todo-san wondered.
"I don't exactly know, although I suspect," Satou-san said. "But this is only an indication, and there's a lot we don't know yet, and I don't want to jump to any conclusions -- unless the conclusion I'm standing on is on fire, in course. But there is one I might consult."
She stood, suddenly, and went outside.
Shinji was shocked, but only for a moment. He already knew that Satou-san was unconventional.
"She doesn't mean to be rude," Todo-san said quickly. "Sei -- I mean, Mistress -- isn't from around here --"
"I guessed," Shinji said, trying to reassure her. He did not want Todo-san to ever be the least bit uneasy on his behalf; just the idea of it seemed like impertinence on his part.
"Her ways are not ours." She stood. "I'm going to follow her. I beg your pardon, and both Mistress and I are grateful to you for wine and good talk --"
"But -- may I not come --" Shinji was upset.
"Follow into the street, if you like, Shinji-san," Todo-san said, puzzled. "It is your street. But it would be wisest not to follow further. I don't know just what Mistress is thinking about, but I have the feeling it's dangerous..."
Shinji rose too. They went to the door.
Satou-san was sitting there, in the dust of the street. She seemed to be staring at the house across the way, but as they came around her left side, it became obvious that she wasn't actually looking at it, or at anything visible to either of them.
"Is she --" Shinji began.
Todo-san raised a hand, and Shinji fell instantly quiet.
Time passed. It was hard to say how much. The west was blazing with the sun's farewell. The street, still deserted until Shinji got around to sending his neighbours the all-clear, was an unnatural oasis of quiet in the distant noise of the eternal City. It began to rain, but the sun was still visible. Shinji looked hopefully for a rainbow, and couldn't see one, but the effect of the setting sun burning behind sheets of rain was striking.
The sorceresses seemed not to notice the rain. Satou-san didn't move, and he thought of offering Todo-san his old oilcloth, but she was just looking at Satou-san, her hands clasped at her waist, not moving. Waiting.
Then, from under the porch of the house Satou-san wasn't really staring at, a cat stepped out.
And it became clear that the cat was what Satou-san was staring at, and had been staring at all along, even when the cat hadn't been there.
The cat was a grey tabby with a slight limp in its right hind leg, and a pleasantly jaunty step in spite of that. The corner of its right ear was missing. It strolled right up to Satou-san, making a casually inquisitive chirping noise -- prrrt?
Satou-san took her hand out of her cloak, and held it out to the cat. Shinji couldn't see what was in her hand, but whatever it was, it seemed to please the cat, who buried its face in the hand.
Then the cat crawled into Satou-san's lap.
A little more time passed. The east darkened, the west deepened towards red.
The cat leapt out of Satou-san's lap, twirled, crouched a bit in the dust, and was gone. It seemed, from where Shinji stood, to have gone behind Satou-san, and not come out again.
Satou-san stood abruptly. She turned to them. She had an intent, serious look, which surprised Shinji.
"Shimako, do you feel up to a transformation?"
"Yes."
"I need you to fly. Fly, and find Youko. Fly, and find Rei. Fly, and find Eriko. We all need to bear south. Yumi is on Ninth Street, not far from the Rasho Mon, and she is in terrible danger. A demon. All of our powers. Do you hear? Fast, Shimako. Fast!"
Todo-san nodded eagerly, her cheeks flushing, and it struck Shinji that she was even more beautiful than he'd thought. Then she dissolved suddenly and sickeningly into white feathers and nothingness... and a series of low, mournful cries fading up the street.
"Must dash, Shinji-san," Satou-san smiled, patting Shinji's shoulder. "Have to see a demon about a girl." And she too had departed, in a swirl of flapping black leather and more than a suggestion of raven's feathers in disarray.
Shinji stood in the dust, alone. Cats. Demons. Feathers. Madness. They were not evil, as he'd heard, but they reckoned with forces beyond his ken. Two giants had passed by, in pursuit of a fugitive volcano, and had healed his aniki in passing, as an afterthought.
He shook his head. It was beyond him, and would remain so. He started to run west, splashing through puddles as he went, relishing the wind on his face. It had been a dry and dusty few days, tending his aniki. He would go to the leatherworker at the end of the street and pass the word that it was safe for his neighbors to come home. Then I've got to get home myself, and quickly, in case Ichiki-sama wakes up hungry...
--
Yumi wept as she passed the entrance gate to the temple baths. She had been so happy, leaving there with Sachiko-sama only the other morning. They had walked along this very street -- on the very part she was running along now, fleeing her death. She forced the tears back. She couldn't cry. You can't run and cry at the same time. If you cry, you die...
She longed to turn south. But the City wall was in the way. She could get over it, but resisting the local flow of energy was not the path to survival, and as she remembered the southern wall, there were houses, and farms, and too good a chance she'd bring destruction on others --
The enraged howls of the Demon behind her became suddenly louder. Without looking back, she knew that it had come around the corner of Sai Avenue and onto Ninth Street, behind her. And, as she had passed the corner of Nishiomiya only a few moments ago, she knew it had cut her lead considerably. She longed to remember, again, with her feet, sail straight to the Rasho Mon, but it was costly in energy, and who knew how much further there was to go?...
The quality, the direction of the sound changed, all at once, and was coming closer much, much too quickly.
She looked behind her as she ran. Ninth Street stretched away behind her towards the burning dying sun, which as she turned was eclipsed, as if by a small rogue planet moving up from the earth. Yumi was caught in the long demon-shadow preceding its owner up the street. Shadow grounded, Demon airborne, and flying toward her much faster than she could run.
In her terror she had covered most of the block, but now she stopped. When something is coming toward you that fast, running is a waste of energy. A last-moment dash for cover might be efficacious, but if you're running straight away from it in a line, and it's chasing faster than you're running, you present no challenge at all...
...Someone had taught her that, once. There was even a voice to go with the words, a cracked, kindly, sometimes wandering voice. But the voice had no name...
Yumi stood there, weeping, trembling, in completely unfeigned despair, the Rasho Mon at her back, about a cho's distance off, the howling triumphant Demon sailing low over the street toward her front. It had dropped its borrowed Sachiko-sama shape and was now itself -- or at least, Yumi couldn't imagine anyone wanting to look this way. Long legs, elbowed like a chicken's, with webbed, scaly feet more like a big lizard's feet; big claws and long, thin, floppy toes. Body shaped like a pear stem-end down, with massive shoulders. Arms half as long as the legs, but still much too long, and with even worse claws at the end of them. A horrible, horrible head almost as wide as its shoulders, big face, wide nose, almond-shaped yellow eyes. A few whiskers on its chin, looking shockingly human in all that mess. Wings, great wide wings opened from its back. Horrible dark pink feathers like serrated blades.
Her death, Sachiko-sama's death, coming closer, almost here...
And, at the last possible moment, as the wide fanged mouth gaped and the great claws stretched for her, her feet remembered, and spun her up and away from earth and air...
Too friendly, all of them. Ghosts who lived in this night-time world were pleading with her to stay. Some of them, the ghosts of old gods who had had their day and faded, were especially importunate. One kept saying, live in my garden, live in my garden, wrapping its arms all around her gently, lovingly -- she tore free --
She was back, in the air, in the rain, and thudding down, limbs splayed out, in the fresh, glorious mud of Ninth Street. She was breathing deeply, harshly, swallowing rainwater clumsily. She started; she was still in danger -- what was that crashing? Didn't sound like thunder --
She looked behind her. The Rasho Mon, already in a ruinous state, had taken a direct hit from the speeding, overshooting Demon, and had collapsed on top of it. What timbers remained unbroken now creaked and cracked, split, burst like bombs as something struggled within the great heaving dark heap. Chips and splinters fell in a whizzing, stinging, uneven rain along with Heaven's blessing.
But from the sound of the infuriated shrieks and curses coming from under the broken, dull red roof, the Demon was not badly injured, was even angrier than before, and would soon be free.
Yumi's tears mingled with the rain. She was exhausted. Could her feet remember again today? She wasn't sure she had the energy; another like that last might kill her. But she might be forced to try it. She could no longer escape through the Rasho Mon. The city wall was ill-kept in parts, but --
Nothing else for it. She turned and ran north, up Red Bird Avenue. The great willows, beaten by the wind and the rain, moved almost like animals, tumbling about on their trunks. She could see people running; the ones who hadn't already been driven indoors by the rain seemed to have seen what had hit the Rasho Mon and were now scrambling desperately for cover.
She was doomed, she realized. Well, she'd been doomed. But she couldn't hide in or between buildings, for that would endanger others. And running down the middle of the great central avenue of the City, she presented too easy a target. And she was tired. The best she could manage was a shambling lope. Terror, despair, frustration. If I could only have a little nap -- just half an hour --
There was a triumphant roar behind her, and a crashing noise which was doubtless the roof of the Rasho Mon falling away, giving up the struggle at last.
It'll catch me in about a minute.
There was nothing else for it. Her feet remembered, and left the ground --
--
Lord Oe, Bureau-Chief of the Board of Divination, was riding his ox-cart home in the fading light and, as it turned out, the sudden rain. Typical bloody weather, he thought, mostly safe under his canopy apart from the occasional random splattering and a small leak directly over his headdress, which he had removed, letting his hair get wet, rather than risk spoiling the lacquer. His lady wife was in the compartment at the back of the carriage, safe from prying eyes, and endeavouring to compose a poem to express the wonder of all that her eyes had beheld this day in the Dairi. Otherwise he might shout out at her, as it was like him, "Typical bloody weather, eh? I suppose we should be thankful it isn't a typhoon or a wildfire. D'you want a quince?" But she was already miffed at him, who knew why, she probably didn't know herself, seemed like ever since their wedding night she'd been miffed at him for something. It was probably something to do with one of his mistresses, or their daughter. Except that they didn't have a daughter, and they would, by Heaven, continue to not have a daughter until the damned girl came to her senses and not before. The very idea of it, joining the... How was he supposed to get her married to some deserving young fellow, specifically Yamada-kun, if she was going to go and do a thing like that?
Talking of the bloody -- thingummy -- there was one of them right now. Unnatural, a girl in boys' robes and hakama, and no headdress to complete the picture either, just with her hair tied up. Curling everywhere like little dripping wet tornadoes. But the main thing about this -- whatsit -- was, that she was blocking his way. His driver, without having been asked, was slowing the oxen down, from their standard, ambling, slightly-faster-than-melting-snow canter to a trembling, almost-not-moving-at-all-but-still-fast-enough-to-trip-over-their-own-feet-if-they-weren't-careful walk. Oxen are not particularly careful animals.
"Damn it all, young... thing, what do you mean by it?" Oe-dono roared. If the slip of a girl was going to dress like a man, then, damn it, she could get yelled at like a man.
Disconcertingly, the young... trout... smiled at him. Sort of a cheeky, knowing smile.
"Good evening, my lord," she said, nodding to him. "What a nice ox-cart. Be so good as to hold it here just for a moment. There is a rather delicate experiment going on just now. Your ox-cart might be the weight that drags us all down to perdition."
Oe-dono drew himself up. The saucy young... shit. He would give her a piece of his --
He heard, through the rain, some distance off, a girl's voice. The voice said, "Good evening, my lord. What a nice palanquin. Be so good as to hold it here for just a moment. There is a rather delicate experiment going on just now. Your lovely palanquin might bollocks up the whole works beyond repair."
There were a number of things that disturbed him about this. The cadences of this speech he was overhearing through the rain, at a distance, were so exactly like those in the speech this grinning freak had just given him. In fact... well, what with the rain and the distance he couldn't swear to't, of course, but it had even sounded as if...
When he heard, from a totally different direction, "Good evening, my lady. What a nice little cabriolet. I'm asking your driver to hold it here for just a moment --"
He glared at the grinning -- SORCERESS -- in front of him, and noticed something rather odd and unpleasant about her:
Her eyes were missing.
Obscenely, she batted her eyelashes at him, and smiled wider. "We've come from Hell to pick you up, Oe-chan."
An unnatural purple light filled Sai Avenue ahead. All the houses seemed to his suddenly overactive imagination to be made of bones.
Oe-dono screamed.
He urged his driver to turn the ox-cart around. He did this in a voice he himself did not recognize, and in a language he'd never heard before. The driver appeared to be squealing panicked curses in a completely different unknown language, but he was turning the cart around, so that was something. The oxen, for their part, had as their total lexicon of terror a chorus of long drawn-out mooing moans, with a bit of a shriek in the upper registers, and they were moving faster than Oe-dono had ever seen them move, which was deeply satisfying on some level where he wasn't absolutely insane with terror.
But soon they were clattering down the street, away from terror -- and away from home into the bargain, but let it pass, let it pass...
One full bo north, at the junction of Sai Avenue with Second Street, the real Touko opened her eyes and stood up from the bench she'd been sitting on, outside Sugawara-dono's mansion and grounds, which was more like a military compound than a house. The bench was a nice little hospitable touch completely out of keeping with the rest of the concept. Probably an innovation of the previous owner's.
That was a delicious magic Youko-sama had given her, the doppelgangers... Of course, Touko had improvised a bit...
The ghastly purple light in the street folded its whole length of perhaps two miles, folded it again, knotted itself furiously, intensified so that it could scarce be looked at, and became Touko's new mistress, standing some distance away.
Youko-sama immediately began walking toward Touko. She was one of those annoying people who seemed to like being rained on; her eyes were sparkling, and her hair, though dripping, was irritatingly resilient. "She doesn't show. Not so much as a bump the whole way. Nishiomiya Avenue next. Stops short of the Enclosure, so it's not so long. What was all the commotion?"
"Commotion, Mistress?" Touko said airily.
"Clacking and clattering and clanging. Carts and carriages all tearing away east --" Youko-sama stopped quite suddenly and gave Touko a stare.
"Mistress! Please don't stare so. You'd frighten anybody into fits. I won't be able to eat my dinner..." Touko trailed off. The stare wasn't becoming any friendlier.
"Just what have you been telling people?"
Touko was about to throw herself on Mistress's mercy -- chancy; she didn't even know whether Mistress had any -- when she was saved by a massive pair of white wings.
A giant white owl was perched on one of the lower branches of the great ginkgo to the left of Sugawara-dono's gate. That is, it was a giant white owl from its claws and the tips of its folded wings right up to its neck and then, without so much as a by-your-leave, it was Todo Shimako. Her golden hair spilled down over white feathers.
"How nice to see you, Shimako-chan!" Youko smiled.
"Thank you, Youko-sama," Shimako said sweetly but swiftly. "My Mistress has found Yumi-san. At the south end of the city, she says, near the Rasho Mon. Yumi-san is apparently being pursued by a demon."
"A demon?! In Heian Kyo?"
"So my Mistress says," Shimako said. "She says that Yumi-san is going to need all of us to make rescue. All of our powers."
Touko bit her nails. She enjoyed playing the terrifying apparition to tease self-important noblemen, but the thought of facing a real demon in combat sobered her quickly enough. And so she was tremendously relieved when Youko-sama said, "Touko, take your fingers out of your mouth. Third floor, north end of the Guild offices, just as fast as you can hop. Fujiwara-dono must be informed of this outrage immediately. Tell her I'm on my way down there right now."
"At once, Mistress," Touko said, and she hopped.
Above and behind her as she sped away south, great wings beat back the coming night...
--
High over Heian Kyo, a cloud of ravens flew agitatedly. At its center, an improbable figure hung, a long lanky figure in outlandish clothes, soaked through and heavy, but hanging on to the birds somehow, fingers outstretched, not touching actual birds, but seeming to fly in their atmosphere, almost.
They didn't like flying in storms, as Sei well knew, and they didn't like being dragged suddenly from nesting in a warm spot. Sei understood and appreciated their reluctance to serve her selfish needs, and intended to let them go as soon as possible, only this was a rather impractical altitude at which to do so.
Further south, further south, mates... It must shine forth ere long... Whopping great demon, don't see how we can miss it, even at this height --
There was a horrible, horrible noise, a boom and a low crackle, like a building collapsing from a giant's fist hitting it. Sei, her heart in her mouth, scanned the prospect for unusual -- ah. It appears that a building has collapsed, well done. And not just any building!... Mother Mary...
The Rasho Mon. It had been rebuilt numerous times over the centuries, and this latest version hadn't been in good shape for some years by all accounts, but from the look of it something had hit it hard -- closer --
She was treated to the remarkable sight of the huge, ponderous wreckage of the Rasho Mon shifting and bouncing around as if an ill-tempered, extremely large cat were trapped under it. And she heard shrieks, horribly loud, as if from an unnaturally large throat.
"Located: one demon, fresh and ready for roasting," Sei growled, and urged the birds to angle down. They did so, protesting this treatment in no uncertain terms, caw, yark, skreeeeek. "Yes, yes," Sei muttered, "I know, you're unhappy. Look at it this way: your troubles will be ended in but a moment, and mine will just be beginning, ha ha ha -- slow up a bit --"
She'd spotted Yumi. A nice trick at this distance, when people were still about the size of crickets, but Sei was pretty sure it was her. She was running away from the Rasho Mon, pelting north. She seemed to be leg-weary; Sei could see the shifting set of her shoulders and wagging of her head as she urged herself on --
There was a ghastly rending noise and a joyous rebel yell from that too-large throat, and Sei looked at the Rasho Mon.
The cracked roof and a few beams had fallen aside, revealing an unlikely horror standing up in the burning light from the west: a large and ungainly set of body parts taken from various giant animals and slapped together by some nitwit, ill-supplied Creator, in a forlorn stab at harmony, missing it by a mile, but hitting something else with a sickening splat. It was easily three times the height of a regular person -- more speed, my lovelies, all the pagan gods and Satou Sei cry to ye now -- when standing erect, but at the moment it was hastily trying to clamber its way out of the wreckage -- how'd it hit the thing in the first place? Did Yumi fake it out somehow? -- and looking around for its prey. Sei looked back to where Yumi had been, reoriented to where Yumi had managed to run to in the time, somewhat over a cho --
Just in time to see Yumi rise from the ground a short distance, and disappear.
"Ha-HAH!" Sei crowed. "As I thought! Nice one, my little Clevertoes --"
The demon let out a furious howl that echoed off the clouds -- its immense black brows drew down horribly over its nose -- and started north after Yumi Fleet-foot, trying to lumber up to full speed right away. It seemed to be able to follow her, somehow, even though she had disappeared.
Speed -- distance -- trajectory --
I have always wanted to do this.
The curse of it is, nobody's watching me.
With that sad thought, Sei let the birds go. And she plummetted through the rain, towards the demon, or hopefully where the demon would be -- oh, the thing about falling was, you did it faster and faster as you went on, and it was dashed hard to change course --
Calculations -- SUCCESSFUL --
She hit the demon right on top of its ugly head.
It went down in the muddy street with a tremendous slapping noise, chin-first. With a little concentration, Sei had managed to collect most of the force that would otherwise have broken both her legs and throw it down through her bootsoles instead, adding to the force of her blow. It still hurt, though. She rolled clear through the mud. She stung all over.
No sooner had she got to her feet than she was knocked back down. She instinctively rolled away from the direction of the blow, three times fast, and was up in a crouch. The demon had got up and was running north again. But Sei consoled herself with the delightfully nauseating sight of a big crack in the top of the demon's head, through which its purple brains could be seen to bubble gently, as well as ripple under the assault of the rain. And its left foot was coming down oddly, splaying inward.
Sei was on her feet and running after, to see if she'd slowed it enough so she could catch up to it. If not, why, she'd try something else...
--
Youko had chosen to fly, and the form of a falcon seemed to have chosen her rather than the other way around, not that she was fussing about these minor details right now. She went up, up, up, a terrible eagerness making her breast sing. She had a chance to prove herself to Fujiwara-dono, and she meant to make the most of it. She was also worried about Sei, who was probably already at the scene. Sei would be eager to challenge the thing rather than to prove herself -- she seemed to have got past the point of wanting to prove herself to anybody years earlier, which both impressed and annoyed Youko -- but she might do something reckless; she worried Youko often in combat, with her wildness... Once Youko was high enough, she cast out her eye into the winds. She had to see far... South, south... to the other end of the City...
She saw the demon -- a nasty piece of patch-and-stitch, part chicken, part lizard, and entirely horrible -- running away from the shattered ruin of the Rasho Mon. She looked around for Sei -- nowhere visible. As a result of a rather grievous shared experience some years earlier, she maintained a tenuous mental bond with Sei -- it could be strengthened with practice, but as it was it seemed to be about as strong as Sei was comfortable with. Youko didn't want to make Sei uneasy, and just having this much connection with her was nice. One of the nice things about it was that it made Sei easier to find in situations like this -- she cast out her feelings, dredging the landscape for her unruly friend --
-- in the air -- there, above the demon -- in a cloud of black birds --
And then Sei let go.
"SEEIII!" Youko was perhaps the first falcon ever to make this particular cry. She was very upset. She was flying as fast as she could, but of course there was no way she could possibly get there in time, Sei had just jumped, this was all a great distance away, however close it looked in her mind. All she could do was watch as Sei shot earthward through the rain, and hit the demon on the top of the head. Then she thought Sei was dead, until Sei rose from the mud. Then she thought Sei was dead again after the demon, seemingly accidentally, brushed her with one arm as it was getting up to continue its run northward. But then Sei got up again and ran after the demon.
Well, it seemed to be a pretty good gamble after all, but Sei was still going to get a talking-to later. She had just given Youko the worst moment of her recent life.
Youko flew on. She was going to have to change back to human form before she engaged the demon, but she would wait until she was almost on top of it before she did that...
--
Noriko had found a food-vendor, and had purchased fish balls for herself and a bowl of minced chicken for Rei-pochi, which she had set down in front of her. Rei-pochi had eaten enthusiastically. She'd become more monosyllabic as the hunt had gone on. Noriko wasn't sure if this was a side-effect of the transformation, or of the general discouragement that had attended upon their efforts.
For the hunt had not been a success. Rei-pochi had sniffed all along the south wall of the Enclosure, and nothing. Had decided to check both the eastern and western walls in case Yumi-san had doubled back, and nothing. Ever-increasing circles had they described about that part of the Enclosure wall which corresponded to the area in which Yumi-san was last seen. And nothing. Rei-pochi had repeatedly referred to the piece of Yumi-san's linen which Noriko still held, but eventually said, "All I'm smelling now is my own nose," and gave that up. She hadn't said much after that.
They stood by the vendor on this busy stretch of Third Street, near the junction with Mibu Avenue. Rain began to fall. The vendor cursed merrily and hurried to pack up his goods. The people strolling by began to hurry by, putting their sleeves over their heads though there was still a tunnel through the clouds through which the setting sun boiled in the west behind the sheets of rain, creating a peculiar effect. The porch of the inn near where the vendor stood had good big eaves stretching out over the street a ways, so Noriko took shelter under those, finishing her meal there. Rei-pochi, who had swallowed hers almost at a gulp, followed Noriko, but didn't seem to care much that it was raining. She was sometimes under the eaves with Noriko, other times running about in the rain, even playing with another dog at one point. Rei-pochi seemed to have forgotten all about the hunt for Yumi-san, and seemed to be very much a dog, and Noriko adored the dog, but was beginning to worry.
She had pretty much resolved on taking Rei-pochi back to the Guild offices and seeing if someone could change her back to Rei-sama, when suddenly there was a dark shape moving in the rain above them.
There was a giant white owl perched on the eaves above Noriko's head. Her first instinct was to get out from under it fast before it crapped on her, but then she saw that it was looking at her with the face of Todo Shimako. Noriko felt a huge wave of relief -- she wasn't alone with her problem any more. She looked up to Shimako-san -- Shimako-san could cope, if anything, even better than Noriko.
"Shimako-san! Thank Heaven!"
"My sentiments exactly!" Shimako-san said. "I've been looking everywhere for you, Noriko-chan! I have to get along and find Eriko-sama fast, but where in the world is Rei-sama?"
Noriko pointed. Shimako-san looked and saw the frolicking dog, splashing through a puddle, chasing a sudden rat under a house, bumping her head on a support strut and falling back, dazed.
"Oh, my," Shimako-san breathed.
"I didn't know what to do," Noriko confided. "I was just going to take her along to the Guild --"
"No," Shimako-san said. "Or, ordinarily, yes, but there's no-one there right now. We have an emergency. There is a demon."
"Oh, no! I thought they couldn't come into the City!"
"Most of them can't. And the ones who can usually don't make trouble, because they know what Fujiwara-dono will do to them. This one seems to be chasing Yumi-san; we don't know why."
Shimako-san blurred then, white feathers and golden eyes in a shifting mass tumbled from the roof with an almost musical rustling sound, and she stood in her human form once again, in soaked white robes, her golden hair dark with rain, tumbling appealingly about her shoulders. She looked magnificent, but then she always did, Noriko thought.
Shimako-san went to Rei-pochi, and knelt next to her in the muddy street. She put an arm around Rei-pochi, who was still dizzy from hitting her head.
"Rei-sama, we need you," said Shimako-san.
The dog looked uncomfortable, or perhaps just preoccupied, and tried to pull away, making a "harf!" noise. Shimako-san held fast. "Rei-sama. We need you. Yumi-san is in great danger, to the south. There is a demon, Rei-sama."
That got the dog's attention. She swiveled her head fast to stare at Shimako-san, her ears flapping wetly.
"We all need you. Yoshino-san needs you most of all. Rei-sama, I cherish you." Shimako-san kissed the wet, doggy head. "I admire you so much. Noriko-chan does too."
Noriko knelt on the dog's other side, and also kissed her head. (She'd actually been wanting to do this since the transformation, but had been shy.) "Please come back to us, Rei-sama. Shimako-san is right. We need you."
The dog shook herself, spattering the two novices with doggy rain water. They laughed, and covered their faces with their hands. When they looked again, Rei-sama knelt between them, drenched, filthy, and quite naked.
They led her quickly over to the eaves of the house. Noriko produced Rei-sama's clothes, which she'd taken pretty good care of -- they'd got a bit wet, but that was hardly a consideration now. Rei-sama dressed. She couldn't seem to quite look at either of them -- shame? -- and she seemed still to be looking inward, at something that had gone wrong.
"You'll be all right?" Shimako-san said worriedly. "Only I really ought to go find Eriko-sama --"
"I'm fine," Rei-sama said, a little too loudly. Was she still barking a bit? "Really. Run along, Shimako. We'll get over onto Red Bird Avenue and head south, I think, Noriko-chan. Stay behind me, once we sight it. You're talented but you may not be up to demons yet." Rei-sama shuddered. "I may not be, depending on the demon. We'll see."
"I really should -- " Shimako-san started.
"Fastest," Rei-sama agreed. Then she stared. "Oh, the nine hells take it -- Eriko-sama and Yoshino!"
"Yes --"
"They're in the southeast, damn it! What if they've fallen foul of the demon already?"
Shimako-san's concerned look was replaced with one of horror. She blurred again, to white, to gold, to air and water.
"Fast, Noriko-chan! Flaming hells -- oh, I shouldn't transform again for a while, probably, but --" She was clutching at Noriko's arm and looking around wildly.
An Imperial messenger chose this moment to ride by. He was an excellent horseman, and the horse's maneuvers were executed most admirably. But the messenger's broad conical hat appeared to have a hole in it, and rain was trickling over his face. One eye was closed, and the other was doing a lot of bulging and rolling.
Rei-sama's eyes widened, then narrowed.
"Rei-sama, please..." Noriko said worriedly.
Rei-sama released Noriko's arm, and strode up to the horseman, waving her arms. "Need to borrow your horse," she said, without formality.
The messenger looked down at her with an incredulous one-eyed glare. Then he shook his head -- dribble, dribble -- and pressed on.
Rei-sama caught at his bridle. "There isn't time for this," she said. She was visibly struggling for calm, self-mastery. "The City is in danger. My friends are in danger. My Yoshino is in danger. I'll pay you if you need paying, but I need your horse now."
The man glared at her this time, took a truncheon from his belt, and swung it at Rei-sama's head, roaring, "Clear off, woman!"
Noriko closed her eyes, wincing. She heard a man's scream, a thump, the whinnying of a horse. When she opened them, the truncheon was bouncing slightly in the dust and the messenger was sprawling in a rubbish-heap in the mouth of a nearby alley. Rei-sama still had the horse by the bridle, now had a hand in its mane as well, and was up on tip-toe, whispering into its ear. Its eyes were rolling a bit, but its initial frenzy seemed to be dying down.
"Come on, Noriko-chan," said Rei-sama, mounting.
Noriko didn't care for horses overmuch, but... she walked timidly to its left flank. "What do I --"
"Your hand!"
Staring down from the saddle, seated easily, her hand out, Rei-sama had an air of command to her that brought out the obdurate in Noriko, but she supposed there was no more time for such things. She gave Rei-sama her hand --
-- and was yanked up and spun around in the air so that she landed behind Rei-sama, on the butt of the saddle, which just had room for the two of them if they squeezed up.
"Arms around me!"
"Rei-sama --"
"No time! Arms around me!"
Noriko obeyed.
"Now we ride," Rei-sama breathed. The anticipation in her voice was unmistakable.
"Rei-sama, you have no spurs," Noriko objected.
Rei-sama chuckled. "You have so much to learn, Noriko-chan," she said tolerantly. "Now hold on tight!" She leaned forward and whispered something in the horse's left ear.
The horse screamed, and bolted.
Noriko's screams echoed those of the horse, as she clasped herself desperately to this lunatic's back. The rain pelted her, the wind lashed at her. And somewhere, she heard Rei-sama yelling, "HYAH! HYAH!"
A swoop around a corner, long light willow branches slapped at their heads playfully, and they were out on Red Bird Avenue, pounding south in the rain.
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