Touko burst into the room, her chest heaving from her run. "Fujiwara-dono!"
"Yes?" said a gentle voice in her left ear.
"Aaaaagh!" Touko added, flinging herself away to her right. She stumbled, fell, drew herself up on her bottom, and edged away from whatever-it-was fast with her feet and left hand, and shielded herself with her right arm.
And she beheld Fujiwara-dono hanging head-down from the ceiling, looking at her patiently.
"A bit noisier than I'm used to visitors being, Matsudaira-kun," she said. "If you didn't want to see me, you need not have come, after all."
"Fujiwara-dono --" Touko had to hold herself back from expressing her true feelings at this point because they would probably have got her disciplinary action.
"Moreover, you've broken my concentration," Fujiwara-dono complained. "There's something off."
"Off?..."
"Yes. Something, somewhere, is off, and I was trying to work out what it could be. Something whiffy in the larder. A thief in the night, a fly in my soup. A shadow moving in the rain where no shadow should be --"
"A demon!"
"Hm. Not subtle enough. Demons, indeed, are radically unsubtle, or they could be so described. Though I suppose --"
"Fujiwara-dono! A demon! Here, now, in the City! A real, genuine, horrible demon! With wings! Mistress -- Mizuno Youko-sama -- sent me to tell you. The most horrible -- Aaaaaagh!"
Fujiwara-dono, with no transitional stages or any apparent movement whatever, had gone from hanging by her feet from the ceiling several feet away, to standing directly over Touko and peering intently into her face from mere inches away, frightening and startling her quite badly.
"A demon?" she rasped.
Touko nodded quickly.
"Here, in Heian Kyo?"
Touko nodded quickly again.
Fujiwara-dono's face split into a broad grin.
This was not a thing a sensitive girl wanted to see, especially not if she was already a bit nervous. Touko cringed and shrank back, an involuntary moaning noise coming from her throat. Fujiwara-dono had an awful mindless joy in her face, like a former human who had lived under a rock in a desert for years and years, and had had all her wits baked into uselessness by the sun. She then made it worse by cackling, "Ah ha ha ha ha hahahahahhh..."
"Fujiwara-dono!"
"A demon!" Fujiwara-dono trilled. Her voice sounded fifty years younger than it had a moment ago. "That means I get to go on -- a DEMON HUNT!"
Touko watched in bewildered disbelief as Fujiwara-dono ran to a cabinet and pulled out a quiver of arrows and a longbow, a few throwing-knives -- and a horn: long, yellow, carved with foreign symbols. "I haven't been on a good demon hunt since I can't remember when -- oh, the joy --" She pulled on a rude cloak that looked as if it had been made from the imperfectly tanned hide of one single large dead animal, and slapped on a wide-brimmed hat. She turned, and the full effect of her getup filled Touko with fear and loathing and a kind of dark amusement. "Where is this damned demon, then, Matsudaira-kun? Point me!"
"D-don't know --"
"WHERE?!"
"Sh-Shimako-san said s-south --"
"SOUTHWARD! YOICKS!"
Fujiwara-dono ran to her balcony, threw open the sliding door, and leapt out, into the rain, and over the balcony railing.
Touko screamed and ran after her.
Rain. A flash of lightning. The horrible sun burning wetly in the west, from under a canopy of dark grey and black. Three storeys below: the empty street. No sign of Fujiwara-dono anywhere.
She heard a couple of her classmates bursting into the room behind her. "Fujiwara-dono!" "Oh, Fujiwara-dono, whatever is the matter?"
"Nothing, nothing," Touko said. "She's just gone completely mad at last, that's all." She stepped back into the room and closed the balcony door.
--
Arms encircled her like frozen branches, squeezing her chest. Her breath came short and she gasped for more. The ghosts flew in and out, shrieking furies, vowing revenge for her rejection of their advances, vowing her destruction. She struggled, struggled for breath, struggled for freedom, but she was strengthless, as her wind lessened -- one-- last -- try --
"SACHIKO-SAMA!"
And she was back once more, awaking from one nightmare to another, back in the streets of Heian Kyo, and there was still a demon chasing her. As she struggled to her feet she looked south away, down Red Bird Avenue. There it was. It was running strangely, and -- there was something funny about the top of its head, between the horns, but she couldn't quite tell what at this distance, and through the rain. She had a lead of nearly two whole bo, it seemed, and was somewhere in the seventh ward, but the Demon was whittling away at her lead the longer she sat here. Move, move -- she got to her feet once more.
She couldn't remember again today, obviously. That last time had nearly destroyed her. The hungry ghosts were fools, and would forget her, but she had to give them time to forget; if she went back now she felt sure they would fall on her instantly, with a fury and a hunger ten times more terrible than before. And anyway, she was so tired, just the act of remembering might knock her out -- She couldn't see the sun from here but there was still orange light in the west, though it was darkening to red. She wondered if she would be dead by the time it was all red... She redoubled her efforts, with her exhausted limbs. If it caught her--
She gasped, and choked. Something was pulling on her neck.
The thread, the black thread! The Demon was pulling on it. She must go faster --
No good. It was reeling her in. It would slowly shorten the thread, shorten the distance between them. Yumi was running with her hands on her throat, feeling around -- she had almost seen the thread before; could she get a grip on it somehow? Perhaps to pull on it, yank it out of the Demon's hands as she had done with the whip? She felt deep frustration: how had the Demon made the thread in the first place? What was this bond between them?
If the foul thing caught her: straight to Sachiko-sama. But how could she prevent that now?...
--
Eriko was getting tired. Too much flying for one day. She loved to do it, though, and it had been quite some time since her last flight. Indeed, she had almost forgotten the original purpose of this flight, when Yoshinosuke cried out, "Yumi-san! Oh, Yumi-san! Eriko-sama! There she is! And... oh, merciful Heaven, what is that thing?!"
Eriko couldn't see a blessed thing. They were headed west on Sixth Street. There were houses to either side and, about a ho's width ahead, the willows of Red Bird Avenue, just visible through the sheets of rain. "Where, Yoshino? I don't see anything --"
"On Red Bird Avenue," Yoshino shouted. She sounded calmer. A stout one in a crisis, Yoshinosuke; always had been. "South, perhaps a cho's width, but moving north, quite fast. You'll see them soon, unless -- oh, Eriko-sama, the thing is gaining on her --"
"What thing, Yoshino?"
"It looks like --"
There was an unearthly howling noise from that direction. Yoshino breathed a sharp, choking breath at it, and Eriko was hard pressed not to just fall out of the sky, at the sound.
"In the City!" she breathed. "Impossible! Our protections --"
"Okay," Yoshino said. "So we're imagining things. In fact, we're both imagining the same thing. We're pretty talented, aren't we, Eriko-sama?"
Practical, too. Always had been. "Impertinent slip of a girl! Do you always talk to Dragons in this bumptious, self-assured way?"
"Only when I'm right."
"I'll buy you a sweet later. Right now I should land and let you off --"
"Oh, no! I'm not sitting this one out, Eriko-sama. This is a demon. The City is in danger. And Yumi-san is my friend! and I --"
"All right, then, Yoshinosuke. Earn your spurs. It's touchy, though. What do we do?"
"Fire! Right? That's the sure thing against demons!"
The howling was much closer. From the direction and the distance, they would meet the demon at the corner quite suddenly any moment now. "In this rain regular fire won't stay fire; it'll turn to black mud. And fire strong enough to stay lit is dangerous. You know this city, Yoshino. It burns at the drop of a taper, even when soggy from the inclement weather --"
"Eriko-sama -- ERIKO-SAMA, WE'RE ALMOST THERE, AND IT'S ALMOST CAUGHT UP TO HER!" Yoshino was terribly excited. "AND OH, ITS CLAWS! IT'LL HAVE HER ANY MOMENT NOW! BLAST THE THING --"
Here goes nothing, Eriko thought. She angled up slightly, then leveled, and then went into a dive. "Brace yourself, Yoshinosukeeeeeee --"
"YUMI-SAAAAAAN!" Yoshinosuke howled.
--
Yumi was done. She was running all out, but it was no use, it would not do. She heard the Demon's great chicken legs clutching at the roadway and throwing it behind, eating with its claws the distance between them, she heard its steps, she heard its breathing, she felt its breath and smelled the skin-crawling rotten-meat scent of it; its horrible clawed hands would be clutching her back any moment now --
There was a flashing, flapping black thing in the rain, like a falling house, like ebon lightning. Yumi barely had a moment to react -- was it screaming her name? --
There was a great thudding whumpf! of earth and air, and Yumi was hurtling forward through the night.
She landed reasonably well, and there was so much mud and standing water in the roadway now that falling was more messy than injurious. Bruises, and one nasty scrape from a stone, and that was all. She thought of just lying there where she'd landed, but that was a stupid idea, unless she wanted this mud to be her final bed. What's one stretch of mud to another? she thought wearily, but struggled to her feet regardless --
There was earth and bits of stone everywhere in the avenue, sometimes in little heaps, the leavings of an impromptu pit which appeared to have been dug more or less where she'd been running. The demon was locked in combat with the great flapping black shape -- the demon appeared to be coming off worse; there was a deep cut over one eye --
"Run, Yumi-san! To the Inn! Never mind us --"
Is that Yoshino-san?
"Do as she says!" yelled another voice, from just behind the demon and to the right -- the Demon swung an arm out to swat the voice, but when the arm was finished its sweep, there was a dark shape climbing up it -- Satou-sama? Is that Satou-sama's voice? And the Demon was looking around, dazed, at another dark figure climbing up its other arm --
"Run to Sachiko, Yumi! She needs you! Run now!"
Mizuno Youko-sama...
All of them had come to help her.
She couldn't leave them --
But she couldn't do them any good --
The pounding of a horse's hooves, a furious whinny, a high-pitched scream. "EAT THIS!" trumpeted like a battle cry. The rider flew past Yumi, spraying mud and rain. A tree branch was launched in blue and violet flames from the back of the horse, and it went over the head of the great flapping black shape and straight up the Demon's left nostril. Whatever the Demon might have had to say about this indignity was drowned out, though Yumi saw its mouth stretch and its eyes roll in the sudden flash: lightning lashed and thunder ripped the air almost as one, and a building on the west side of the avenue burst and began to smoke horribly in the rain.
Yumi panicked and ran. To the inn, to the inn -- Maybe Yumi had time to warn Sachiko-sama -- maybe Sachiko-sama could be protected, with all those sorceresses attacking the Demon -- Was that Rei-sama on the back of that horse? -- anyway, they were too close now --
Above her, another dark shape came flying, and screaming something Yumi couldn't hear over the wind and the rain.
Behind her, the Demon bellowed fury.
--
Sachiko had packed Yumi's things, in order to demonstrate to herself her certainty that Yumi was coming back.
She would have preferred to be out there searching for Yumi, of course. She couldn't escape the feeling that terrible things were happening out there, that Yumi was in great danger, and perhaps of worse things than catching cold. She had nearly put on her cloak to go out, but thought, everybody is out looking for her. What if she comes back here, and there's no one to greet her?
Yumi was a bit mysterious, a bit unaccountable. Sachiko still didn't know why it was the girl had run away, unless it was because she herself had been cruel to Yumi without noticing... She cursed herself. She seldom noticed these things while they were happening -- or, worse, she simply chose not to notice them because there were more important considerations, but --
More important than Yumi's feelings?
Did she really have any considerations like that?
Am I up to this?
If Yumi needed more than Sachiko had to give, or was capable of giving...
Growing up, Sachiko had been princess of all she surveyed. But as she grew, and the order of things became clearer to her, it seemed that she was to have no real control over the direction her life would take. She was to marry her cousin Suguru, she had learned early on. Well and good. Her cousin Suguru was beautiful. She could definitely think of worse things to be married to; they came to the house for dinner all the time. But then it had turned out that cousin Suguru didn't especially want to marry her... he'd been honest with her, give him that. He did care for her, he said. He just couldn't be in love with her. He was marrying her out of duty, and because he wanted to be heir to her father as well as his own.
Why should she complain? Was it any worse than what most women have to put up with?
No. She just didn't want to put up with it, that was all.
And so, one day, in her chambers, she had been reading a novel -- something silly, it didn't matter what -- and every now and then stopping to glare through the shutters at the snow outside and run over her options in her mind:
1. Get married.
2. Take the veil.
3. Die.
She had been doing this off and on for weeks, now, and these were all the options she'd been able to come up with. She didn't like any of them very much. She supposed that, of the three, she liked option two best, but that didn't mean that she could look at option two in isolation and say, "I like that option -- shave my head, live in a monastery, spend all my time either chanting sutras or sleeping -- that, by all that is wonderful, is how I would like to spend the rest of my life." She couldn't honestly say that at all.
She was unable to concentrate on the passage she was reading because she was hunting desperately -- indeed without hope -- for option number four.
When, quite suddenly, option number four tapped on her verandah door.
Perplexed, she went to answer the tapping.
When she opened the door, she didn't immediately say, "Ah-ha! Option number four! I've been expecting you." She had no idea, of course.
There, on her porch, in stark relief against the snow- and ice-encrusted garden behind, stood a most extraordinary person, wearing grey robes and dark grey hakama, and with a black hat on which looked as if it had been improvised from a folded napkin. Fabulously old -- Sachiko had certainly never seen anyone as old as this. Nodding to herself, humming a maddening little tune -- two notes, one to the other and back again, occasionally leaping up to a third note, but not according to any pattern or rule Sachiko could make out.
"I was in the neighbourhood," the old person said, between hums.
Until the old person spoke, Sachiko had been quite certain that he was a man, mainly because of the divided hakama. Now she was quite sure she was a woman, if a very oddly dressed one.
"Were you?" Sachiko answered. This was quite fabulously rude of the old person, to suddenly appear on Sachiko's verandah rather than at the main gate, and announce herself so casually, and ordinarily -- not that there was anything ordinary about this situation -- Sachiko would have screamed for a servant to come and throw the old lunatic out, but somehow she didn't like to.
"I was," the old person went on. "Passing through. I was going by this house, on my way to somewhere else, doesn't much matter where, and I was seized by a sudden change of mood. Boiling gloom, despair such as I have not known since I was fourteen, which was, oh, quite a long time ago -- and a growing fury. The helpless fury and frustration of an animal caught in a trap. Sound familiar?"
Yes. "No."
"Yes, it does. Please do not try it on with me, Ogasawara-kun."
Sachiko was a bit startled to be addressed so directly, and somehow she had never thought of herself as a -kun. This impertinent, impossible old person interested her more by the moment. There was only so much self-cudgeling would accomplish. Sachiko would try what a fresh perspective could do. "Would you care to come in?" she'd said. "We're letting all the warm air out, and there was precious little of it to start with."
"Don't mind if I do, Miss Manners." The old person came in.
"Will you tell me your name?" Sachiko said, throwing more coal on the brazier, without any immediately noticeable effect.
"Fujiwara Akiko," the old person said.
Sachiko nearly dropped the brazier lid. She replaced it hurriedly. She knew who that was. Everybody knew who that was. She stared at this infamous personage who was inexplicably in her room -- and then she dropped her eyes. "I beg your pardon, Fujiwara-dono -- I meant no disprespect --"
"I know you didn't," Fujiwara-dono said.
Sachiko looked up. That wasn't quite the response she'd expected. "May I offer you some refreshment?"
"Quite possibly, in another moment. Will you tell me what on earth is the matter, Ogasawara Sachiko-kun?"
"How did you know?--"
"I know your father's house, girl. Even if I've never seen you, I know he has only one daughter, and with your bearing you could hardly be anybody else. I want to know what's wrong with you."
"Wrong with me?"
"I did ask you not to try it on. The veritable swamp of your bad mood sucked so insistently at my extremities, making little bubbling sounds, that I strongly suspect you have just the sort of talent I'm always looking for. So I had to come in and find out what the devil was up with you. Come along, Ogasawara-kun. Tell me your troubles."
Sachiko stared at the floor. "I do not like to complain --"
"Of course you don't. And you were brought up very carefully to say so. Nevertheless, I would like to hear your complaints, if you have any. Humour me?... As a guest?..."
Sachiko really didn't want to talk about it. "I just... My life has all been planned out for me."
"Not unusual, for a girl of your class. Or indeed a girl of any class."
"I know it. But... It's not even that it's so terrible a life... I just don't happen to want it."
"Yes, very sad. Tell me, however: what would you like to do instead?"
"I can do what they say, or I can kill myself, or I can take the veil."
"Really?" Fujiwara-dono's look was not unfriendly, but it was searching, demanding, in a way Sachiko did not quite like. "And that's all that occurs to you?"
"If there was anything else, anything I could call good, I would have gone out and done it already," Sachiko said, a bit shortly. "I assure you, Fujiwara-dono, I don't enjoy sitting here, on the horns of a three-horned dilemma!"
"Aaah!" Fujiwara-dono said, in an illuminated way, as if Sachiko had just succeeded in explaining a very difficult Chinese logogram. Then she was quiet for a bit.
Sachiko wondered if she had been too impatient with the eccentric old dame.
Then Fujiwara-dono said, "I should like to stay in here with you tonight, if I may."
Sachiko had not known just what to say to this, at first. An odd request, to say the least, from someone she had just met. But as Fujiwara-dono waited politely, comfortably for her answer, Sachiko decided that Fujiwara-dono's company was the most pleasant she'd had to bear with lately, and she had not yet given up hope that someone so non-compliant with the accepted notions of the day might, after all, have some solution to Sachiko's dilemma -- provided she were sufficiently humored.
"All right, then," Sachiko said.
She heard her ladies, behind their screens, gasping, tittering, whispering their astonishment to one another. One thing about her lost life in her father's house that she missed -- or didn't miss, exactly, but their absence had taken some getting used to -- was the ubiquitous ladies in waiting. Behind screens, in corners, behind walls. They were there to serve one, in case one needed service. They were always available, in case there was something you couldn't manage yourself. They always listened. They commented on whatever was happening to you, in almost but not quite audible tones, as a kind of captive audience to the drama of your life. Though it was more like they peeped at you from the wings. The chorus of one's life -- but the chorus had gone silent since she had left her father's house. A girl as ungrateful as she was not entitled to personal servants.
It was one of the best ironies of Sachiko's life that she had lost her constant audience for good just when her life had started to get really interesting.
At any rate. The really interesting period actually dated, not from Sachiko's leaving her father's house, but from Fujiwara-dono's tapping on her garden door that winter's afternoon. That evening, and the night that followed, were the most astonishing and eye-opening of her life to date, though she could never say, afterward, just what had been so eye-opening about it, not specifically. They talked a great deal, Fujiwara-dono about astonishing sights she had seen and people she had known, and Sachiko about... well, about everything she knew, though it didn't seem like much compared with Fujiwara-dono's lightest utterance. But Fujiwara-dono seemed fascinated by much that Sachiko had to say. She felt later that she'd best succeeded in holding Fujiwara-dono's interest when she told her of the few times in her life when she'd been truly happy. Fujiwara-dono never seemed to listen with her full attention -- though Sachiko never caught her out in inattention -- but Sachiko thought that Fujiwara-dono actually looked at her more at this juncture than at other times -- or ever, since.
After that, Sachiko began to weep uncontrollably. And Fujiwara-dono held her, and comforted her. It seemed completely natural at the time that she should do so; it was only later that Sachiko thought it seemed out-of-character for Fujiwara-dono.
And in the morning, Fujiwara-dono had given her a test, with a handful of earth, a basin of water, a lit taper, an ornamental dagger, and the very air about them. And Sachiko had passed the test with flying colors.
This, too, was a moment of happiness...
But it seemed that happiness could not be held to for any great length of time, she thought as she sat drinking a cup of tea and looking at the bundle of clothes and other necessities she had got together for Yumi.
Her responsibility to Yumi had frightened her at times, especially at night, when Yumi slept -- the times when Yumi wasn't right there with her, and she was alone with her responsibilities. But never when Yumi was in sight, when Yumi was looking at her. Then, she would think, I can do whatever is necessary, for her happiness. For us to be together. I am equal to anything.
Oh, who am I fooling?
She clearly wasn't equal to this. All Yumi had done was disappear for a few hours. How would Sachiko conduct herself if they met with real problems? Since Yumi had disappeared, she was a mess. Tears a finger's breadth away, unable to concentrate on anything that wasn't Yumi -- unable to shake the feeling that Yumi was in danger out there, somewhere, while Sachiko sat here safe and dry --
There was some sort of horrible noise out in the street. Growling, hissing --
Children playing pranks? In this storm?
She stood and went to the verandah of the main room. She shoved the sliding door open irritably, walked out, ignoring the spatters of runoff from the gutters, looked out between them, into the almost-mist made by the indecently eager rain. Mist and darkness, and the street below, and a shaft of freakish sunset light, reddish orange, between her verandah and the house next door.
She saw shapes coming up the street. One of them was unnaturally large.
She stared in amazement as an exhausted, soaked, battered and bedraggled girl, who was instantly recognizable as Yumi, came running into the light. And then she stared harder at what what was behind her --
--
Yumi had turned onto Kogamon Avenue at Fifth Street, and covered most of the ho's distance from there to the Mountain Lily Inn, when she heard demonic laughter, much too loud, behind her. It had got away. Somehow it had got away from everybody and it must have jumped, or done something awful, but here it came, almost on her heels. She had to find more speed from somewhere, fast --
Yumi didn't know how this had happened. She remembered her resolve what seemed like a lifetime ago, back at the beginning of this chase: she would not lead the Demon to Sachiko-sama. And somehow she had ended up doing just that. There was the Inn. There was Sachiko-sama on the verandah on the second floor. She could see her in the terrible western light, and a flash of lightning further illuminated her face; she was glaring furiously at Yumi, or at the thing behind Yumi.
Will I ever know which? Yumi thought, and it was a lonely thought at the end of her life.
She forced herself to yell as loudly as she could:
"Sachiko-sama -- RUN -- I can't --"
And that was too much, and Yumi went down in a monstrous huge puddle, almost a pond in the middle of the street. Almost immediately she was fighting her way back up, straining for one last sight of Sachiko-sama --
What happened next happened too quickly to be really followed, but this is how Yumi felt it:
-- The Demon, with rain trickling down its leathery hide, intent on its prey on the verandah, was above Yumi, bracing itself for a great leap to the second storey. It made an anticipatory grunting noise -- wur-URR! -- as it moved to plant one wide, horny, hook-clawed foot on Yumi, probably to use her as a spring-board to Sachiko-sama, breaking and killing Yumi underneath --
-- Sachiko-sama's hand on the verandah railing was joined there by a foot. The furious glare bounced a little, and then blurred to nothing as Sachiko-sama launched herself into the air --
-- The Demon's foot was already descending when Sachiko-sama leapt, and that leap should have been Yumi's last sight in this world -- and a fine, brave last sight it would have been -- but there was a twisting, tumbling tunnel of light in the air, and a terrific noise, and the foot was gone from above Yumi's head.
Yumi's bracing hand slipped, and she went face-first in the puddle again. But her death still didn't come.
Bewildered, Yumi raised herself again and looked behind her, gasping for breath, her sides heaving.
The Demon was rolling in the mud of the street, squealing in pain, and beating at its own face. Yumi saw why: Sachiko-sama had her feet planted on its chest, was gripping its right ear with her left hand, and was furiously twisting its nose with her right. Yumi could have sworn she'd heard a bone crack one moment, and didn't have to swear when the Demon's squeals had gone from piercing to kittenish in the next. Sachiko-sama was shrieking, terrible words that seemed to pop and crack in the air like fireworks.
The demon seemed to get purchase finally and flung Sachiko-sama off it; it gibbered as she managed to get one last sharp twist in just as she lost her grip.
She was a heap of wet, muddy robes flapping through the night. She bounced horribly off a wooden pillar on the empty house across the street, leaving it slightly bent. Yumi gasped, sure in that crippling, icy moment that she'd seen her mistress's death.
But before Yumi could begin to grieve... there she was. Sachiko-sama, whole and breathing. Standing near the pillar. Rubbing one arm. Glaring at the Demon. And advancing upon it. Slowly and deliberately.
"For coming into the City," Sachiko-sama said, calmly but loudly, because of the rain, "you die. For threatening my imouto, you die hard."
The demon grinned in what would have been a charming, if big-faced, manner, if its nose hadn't been decorated with fresh burn-blisters, as well as streaming blood, and its dog's tongue hadn't been flicking defiantly between its incisors. It was also covered in welts and wounds, and that messy, brainy crack in the top of its lumpy head probably detracted the most from any lingering, desperate possibility of charm.
It squealed like a predatory pig, and then pounced on her.
Yumi gasped. Sachiko-sama was trapped under the thing. She lay there, glaring up at it, her torso banded by its paws, her arms and legs spread in the muck and filth of the street. She seemed resigned to her fate, almost. "What a wonderful supper!" said the demon, and its big mouth opened, got bigger, started to close over Sachiko-sama. Yumi was already running forward, the terror straining her face out of shape, thinking only to fling herself into the demon's mouth, distract it long enough for Sachiko-sama to get away.
But then there was a nasty cracking, splintering noise, and the demon leaped backward, letting out a hoarse scream.
And Sachiko-sama stood, tall and proud again -- if muddier -- arms folded, looking at it. A look that would take the lacquer off a paintbox.
The demon became breathless, went to its knees. It was as if the pain was suddenly too horrible for it to even yipe.
It turned its head to look at Sachiko-sama out of one horrible bulging bloodshot eye.
"In the last few years, I have repeatedly shown my family and all the world that I am willing to get my hands dirty," Sachiko-sama told it. "My clothes also, if need be. Cracking one of a prized pair of shoes in order to snap one of your filthy fangs out of your mouth is a bit above-and-beyond, but I'm horrible enough for that too, it seems."
She reached into her robes and produced, incongruously -- magically? -- a length of metal. It looked suspiciously like a prizing-bar such as workmen used to disassemble houses.
"In fact," she went on, "I am in just the right mood to break every single one of your teeth, one at a time, even if it means ruining this prizing-bar for good. All day long, since my little fox was taken from me, I've been longing to hurt something, but couldn't find a creature horrid enough to deserve it... and now, you come along asking me."
She tossed the prizing-bar from hand to hand with a deft flourish, smiled a really horrible smile, and said:
"So come and be broken, my horny pet. The night is young."
--
The demon charged again. Sachiko threw the prizing-bar. It hit it in the mouth. The demon reared back, with a scream, but this time its rage seemed to overwhelm any pain it was feeling, and it came on after her. It grabbed for her. She ducked, and danced away. It grabbed lower; she leapt up, and slapped its face, putting as much air as she could gather in the moment in front of her hand. This made a powerfully concentrated explosion right over its face, which caused a tooth to shoot from its mouth, and also stunned it. It fell back on its bottom with an enormous splat and a slow, immense, rising corona of mud from which little escaped.
Sachiko wasn't sure how you killed a demon. Her whole plan at this point was to use all the most awful things she knew, keep throwing them at it, repeatedly if necessary, until it was overwhelmed...
...but the thing was already struggling to its feet again. It was awfully tough. What if she didn't know any spells strong enough to finish it off?
Some improvisation may be required, she thought.
The important thing was protecting Yumi...
...Why is a demon chasing Yumi? What's it after?...
Swaying a bit, the demon smiled that ghastly smile again, made worse by additional blood, one tooth split down to the gum, another tooth missing altogether, and the prizing bar sticking out of the gums between its two front teeth. And then, even worse, it spoke:
"Why, you, Ogasawara Sachiko. I'm after you. Of course."
Its voice was deep, but with barely audible harmonics up top. It was an alluring voice somehow, even with the hideousness from which it emerged. Sachiko felt herself drawn to it -- but managed to keep still where she stood.
She was a little frightened now. It hadn't even been trying...
--
The others came running up at this point. Hasekura-kun, Noriko-chan, Torii-san, Yoshino-chan, Mizuno-san, Satou-san, and Fujiwara Akiko. Todo Shimako brought up the rear; she'd arrived a bit late.
They were all very muddy, except for Fujiwara Akiko. They were all rather annoyed, except for Fujiwara Akiko. The muddy and annoyed ones were muddy and annoyed because they had been fighting the demon, and had seemed to be getting the upper hand, when suddenly it had burst out of the mud, almost flying, shrieking laughter, and had knocked them all about the place, and nearly trampled Mizuno-san, except Satou-san had managed to pull her clear. They had watched open-mouthed as it tumbled up the avenue like a toy thrown by a giant child, laughing wildly like that same child being tossed up into the stars by its drunken father. Great gouts of mud went flying everywhere, one of them hitting the smoking, lightning-struck house, which oddly seemed only to increase the screaming from that quarter. After about half a cho of this dumbfounding locomotion, the demon had gained its feet, and seemed to be moving under its own power again, at a terrible clip on those long legs, going after Yumi --
Akiko had swiveled her head to glare at her pupil-comrades. They seemed much struck still by the image of the demon flopping along the street like a bundle of weeds in the wind, and weren't moving, only staring. Torii Eriko with Yoshino-chan cradled in her arms... Hasekura Rei-kun, her hair quite mussed, with Noriko-kun clinging to her back, and it seemed they'd lost track of the horse they'd ridden in on... Even Satou-san and Mizuno-san, still holding onto each others' arms, one of Satou-san's arms wrapped around Mizuno-san's shoulders. It was downright touching, and she could have tanned their hides, the both of them --
"GET AFTER IT!" she had howled.
And after it they had gotten, with excellent if belated, muddy, and annoyed speed.
Akiko, foremost black sheep of the Fujiwaras, was not herself muddy because she knew how to land well, and no more would she ever say on the subject, to anyone who asked her. If these youngsters insisted on ruining their clothes by playing around in the mud, well, that was their lookout. They were annoyed because they didn't know how the demon had done what it had done. Akiko, great-granddaughter of Fujiwara no Michinaga (a famous man and the cleverest statesman of his day or of most other days), was worried rather than annoyed because she had a suspicion that she did know how the demon had done what it had done, and it wasn't good news, either for Ogasawara-kun, or dear little Yumi-kun...
Akiko was in the lead as they came up to where a grinning demon and a grim Ogasawara-kun were facing one another off in the last of the sunset light. Yumi stood at the corner of the Inn, watching. She had eyes for no-one but her mistress. Just the sight of her made Fujiwara Akiko nostalgic for days gone by...
No time for that now.
She shook herself.
Without having to look, she drew an arrow from her quiver, and notched it in her bow. She bent the bow at the demon, and let fly her arrow.
The arrow burned in the air with many colors, of vermilion, indigo, and gold, and sang with a deep, joyful energy. All who saw it were so delighted that it took their delight longer to fade than the hope that flew with it: the colored shaft burst in the air before the demon, and fell in a shower of burnt splinters.
"Ah!" Fujiwara Akiko said sadly.
"What?" said Satou-san.
"Pretty," said little Noriko.
The demon turned its head to look at Fujiwara Akiko with a bloody leer.
"You cannot touch us, Fujiwara," it rumbled. "I have woven my circle too well. We have made the circle together, and come back here in the end. Now Ogasawara has stepped into the circle under her own power, and I have drawn it tight. Your toys cannot come in, and she cannot come out."
There was a bustle nearby as Mizuno-san burst forward, and was restrained by Satou-san. "It's right, Youko," Satou-san was saying hastily. "It's ugly as hell, but it speaks sooth. You'll only do yourself an injury if you try. Sachiko wouldn't want that!..."
Mizuno-san seemed to accept this, but still gripped Satou-san's arm as she glared into the demon's circle at her imouto.
"Satou-san is right, Mizuno-san," Fujiwara Akiko said. "We've done all we can. Now all we can do is stand by, and see if we've done enough, already, for our student..."
The demon reached into the air, and closed one fist.
Yumi-kun, still by the corner of the Inn, put her hands to her throat. Her eyes had gone very wide.
"No..." she said.
She took one step toward the demon. And then another.
The demon turned its leer upon Ogasawara-kun.
"Leave her alone," Ogasawara-kun said, with surprising calm.
"Do you want this?" the demon taunted.
Yumi-kun took three more steps quickly, and stopped. Immediately, her eyes squeezed shut, as if she was in pain.
"I told you," Ogasawara-kun said, calmly, clearly, and slowly, "to leave her alone. This is the last time I will tell you."
Akiko frowned. Was Ogasawara-kun playing for time, or did she actually have something in mind?
"Or you'll... do what?" the demon retorted.
Five more steps. Yumi-kun's face was almost still this time, though slight twitches showed that resistance was still causing her considerable pain. She's trying to be strong.
Then, so suddenly it startled everyone, Yumi-kun threw a rock at the demon's face. The demon threw an arm up and the rock bounced away harmlessly, but Yumi-kun seemed to have distracted it from the leash-war long enough to gain some ground, and was running away, toward the other side of the street, perhaps meaning to hide in the empty house --
-- and then was running in place --
-- and then, most curiously, was slipping backward, still running full out, trying desperately to run fast enough to outrun the tie, but nevertheless being slowly pulled, dragged backward towards a large, bloody grin --
And then Ogasawara-kun was there between them.
--
You're a fool, Ogasawara Sachiko, she had told herself. This is about much more than defeating a demon.
Was she equal to the task of being Yumi's mistress? She had plagued herself with the question much of the afternoon. If she wasn't up to it, she realized now, and if she really did care for Yumi, then what she had to do was make her go to someone else.
Only it was too late for that. She and Yumi were both bound to this demon. So she had to be strong enough, and prove that she was strong enough, now, in front of everybody. She had to prove that her bond with Yumi was stronger than the demon's bond with Yumi.
But first she had to find the demon's bond with Yumi...
--
Yumi's running feet slipped, and she fell back a little, but found herself backed up against someone else's back, a stiff, proud, unyielding back, and knew instinctively who it was. "Sachiko-sama -- please run -- I can't --"
"Can't what?" came the flintlike voice of her mistress in one of her most terrible rages. "You can't protect me? Maybe you can't, but no one ever asked you to. I am your mistress; I protect you. He shall not have you."
"I will have you both!" the demon sang gleefully.
"That you will not," Sachiko-sama called in a voice of steel. "We're not for the taking. Back to the woods, filth! Eat little birds and moles, the ones stupid enough to let you catch them."
"I've been after this little bird for months," the Demon chuckled. "I've forged a bond between us. I've watched her, slept with her, pricked her on when her spirits flagged --"
"Nice metaphor, keep it up," Sachiko-sama said under her breath. Yumi felt warmth at her back, and the familiar ease in her limbs, and was just happy to be this close to her mistress once again... even as they both edged closer and closer to the Demon, in spite of Sachiko-sama's stiff back... even more so when her mistress took her hands, so that they were back to back and clasping hands, leaning against one another... a pulse of joy went through her... she couldn't give this up, couldn't die and leave it behind... was... was Mistress doing magic?...
"We have all watched over her, followed her," the Demon was saying, "but mine has been the work. I caught her, only to catch you -- and depend on it: to be with her, you have to follow, and obey. I shall devour you both, and you shall both live on within me. And in the coming wars, we demons shall have a fivefold sorceress to command! A sorceress who can do anything except... except..."
The force pulling at Yumi lessened, and stopped.
Astonished, she turned, clung to Sachiko-sama's back, peered around her shoulder.
In one hand, Sachiko-sama was holding a fragmented length of black thread. As Yumi watched, it fragmented further: a sudden wind made it tumbling fibres, and then nothing.
Sachiko-sama wasn't even looking at it. She was looking dead into the eyes of the flabbergasted demon.
"Except this, do you mean?" she said calmly.
--
The demon's shadow lengthened. Its face stretched so that the bulging chin hung low on its chest, its dark brows drew down, its teeth grew longer and yellower, and its eyes burned yellow at them from under the brows.
It seemed to have run out of words. Its tricks were exhausted; its cleverness was sprung like a clock shattered on paving-stones. All that was left in those eyes was the will to hurt, rend, gnaw.
"Yumi, run. Run to Sei. Now, Yumi." Sachiko stared at the advancing demon.
"No, Mistress," said the voice below her shoulder.
"Yumi, do as I tell you!"
"I will not leave you, Mistress." Yumi's voice was firm.
Sachiko closed her eyes briefly. "Oh, good," she sighed.
"Mistress?"
"Never mind." One of dear Yumi's hands still sat in one of hers. She raised it quickly to her lips. "Then at least get out of the way, little fox," she said. "I can't fight and shield you all at once."
--
"We can attack now, can't we?" Youko said urgently.
"Get closer," said Fujiwara-dono. "And try to get behind it. From this angle there's too good a chance of killing our own."
--
Yumi dodged away in a quick run, almost skipping with urgency. More rocks. She needed something to throw. Oh, she couldn't hurt the leathery thing with rocks, but if she got it in the eye with one, that might distract it at the right moment --
Oh, it was on her -- it had struck too fast for Yumi's eye to follow, and it had Sachiko-sama in one big paw -- it was squeezing -- she was screaming in pain, but she'd got the prizing-bar in one hand and was twisting it, hoisting herself on it, and the demon's screams rose to match hers, but there was a kind of insane glee in its screams -- It can keep this up longer than Sachiko-sama can -- it's over into an area where it thinks pain is funny --
Orange and yellow lights burst on its back, blue-white and boiling at their centres. Terrible concussions of sound fragmented the night. The demon did not so much as stagger.
--
"How is it doing that?" Youko wanted to know.
"Miscalculation!" Fujiwara-dono cried. "To the front!"
"But then we might hit Sachiko!"
"Its back is too well-armored! I'll go and --"
The demon's howls changed from insane joy to a forlorn, gargling desperation. When Sei saw why, she laughed uproariously, startling her comrades badly.
--
Sachiko, her ribs aching, fought off the dizziness and braced herself up on one elbow.
A gigantic creature, almost as large as the demon, and of a strange dirty translucence, had pinned the demon in the street. It was hitting the demon with its ill-defined fists, which splattered with the impacts, but reformed for the next blow.
It had a peculiar crested head and three watery eyes.
The demon, outraged, made a mighty effort to heave the water creature off. The water creature drove its fist into the demon's mouth and a lot of water spilled over into its nose. It thrashed and flailed, its eyeballs swelling, its chest heaving for breath.
Sachiko looked around, unbelieving, and found Yumi. Yumi had a hand in the monstrous puddle, which was much less monstrous than it had been. She was giving the demon a fierce look.
"You shall not harm my mistress!" Yumi shouted defiantly.
A great gout of water mixed with blood and worse shot out the demon's nostrils. It raised its arms, and brought its paws together in front of the water creature's face -- crack!
And the water creature swirled back down in puddles.
--
Yumi was disheartened as she saw her creature fall and the demon rise. But she had at least distracted it from Sachiko-sama. Now, she just had to... well... what could she do?...
...die...
No. Try to make the water creature again. Sachiko-sama wouldn't just give up like this. She'd keep trying. Even if the demon succeeded in sending her to Hell, Sachiko-sama would take its nose along. Yumi did her best to concentrate -- not easy. Its face was changing shape again as it advanced upon her, its nose lengthening, broadening, thickening, until it looked like the head of a hammer --
-- concentrate -- for Sachiko-sama --
The demon's chest split, and fire burst out of it.
It screamed. One of its eyeballs turned red, and bloody tears ran down its cheek.
There was a spear of flame sticking out of its chest. The flames were holding this spear-shape, strangely. It seemed to have a head on it like a halberd.
The spear abruptly disappeared, apparently yanked backwards. This seemed to hurt the demon even more, but it also enraged it; it spun to face its attacker, showing Yumi the hole in its back. And Yumi, who had felt a savage joy at seeing the demon pierced, felt the water creature rise with her spirits. It stood again in the street. It advanced plurkily at a hand-motion from Yumi, and planted one fist in the hole in the demon's back --
-- and its watery fist was met by fire coming the other way.
--
Sachiko grasped her spear lightly. The flames tickled her hands gently and she laughed. The demon was flailing, not making any sound except a long, barely-audible, ratcheting moan; that last shriek seemed to have done something permanent to its voice box. It wasn't just the fire, it was the water meeting it: the demon's innards, chest, back and head were being steam-cooked. A delicate feast, she thought, and nearly retched, and nearly laughed, and kept the pressure on.
The demon seemed to be getting smaller. It had gone to its knees, but its whole frame had shrunk, and Sachiko was having to angle further down in her stance.
The demon's face, about half the size it had been, turned up suddenly to heaven. Light sprinkles of rain gently bathed it. It opened its broken-toothed mouth, and cried, ratchily, "Waaaah!" like a large and angry baby... and then its face was lost in the steam.
--
Yumi had moved closer, to right behind her water creature. It had shrunk as the demon had, seeming to feel that there was no point being any larger than necessary.
The steam billowed about. Yumi felt herself relax, felt warm water running around her toes, seeking the lowest level again. The flames of Sachiko-sama's spear thinned, flickered, winked out for good. The steam thinned out, cleared away...
All that was left of the demon was a mask, stuck in the mud of the street. It was a childish effort, poorly painted and varnished. It wore a pained expression but also a demented one, like that of a drunkard who had finally managed to pickle his brains for good.
Was that all it was, a mask? No... something was wearing the mask. But we never really saw its face...
The mask split down the middle, with a hiss and a crack, and then crumbled into dirt and mud.
Yumi looked up at Sachiko-sama, who had apparently looked up at the same moment. Their eyes met.
They just looked for a moment.
What are we trying to look into each other?
Yumi walked toward Sachiko-sama. She found, however, that her legs wouldn't walk any more. She stumbled, and fell, but Sachiko-sama was there, somehow, and caught her, and pulled her to herself, and held her close. Yumi felt a smile curve her face. Darkness was rising to claim her, but that was all right. She was where she belonged, and all was as it should be...
--
Sei limped carefully to Sachiko's side. Sachiko stood there, holding Yumi fiercely, her face in Yumi's hair. They were both wet and muddy.
Well, we all are...
The rain had been slowing, and now it stopped. There was nothing but darkness in the west.
"Congratulations, young goofball," Sei said.
"You may, if you like, call me 'young goofball,'" Sachiko said, her voice slightly muffled by Yumi's head. "There is some justice in that."
The others joined them there. The Mountain Lily Gang plus Fujiwara-dono. They all looked much bedraggled, except for Fujiwara-dono, who for some reason looked much as she always did.
Yumi sagged in Sachiko's arms.
"Is she --" Yoshino started.
"Yumi?" Sachiko said, sudden fear in her voice. "Yumi!"
No, Sei thought. Please. Not after all this --
From the limp form in Sachiko's arms there came a very soft snore.
There was a pause. And another snore. And some stifled laughter among those there present.
"She's... asleep," Youko said, as if she found it difficult of belief.
"I just love a happy ending," Sei told her. She felt intense relief.
Sachiko was looking down with tender astonishment at her sleeping imouto. A deep peace seemed to settle over her. Sei felt strangely warm all a-sudden, and wondered if the others felt the same. If Sachiko had carried winter with her earlier, in the garden, now high summer was in her pouch. And it was probably just rainwater, running down her face there, but to Sei it looked almost like --
"I think --" Sachiko's voice was as cool and stern as ever -- "I think that it is high time I got this one to bed."
She reached her left arm down to gather Yumi's legs. As she hoisted her up into her arms, Yumi tucked her face into Sachiko's throat and murmured something about "Sachiko-onee-sama..."
Sachiko almost lost her composure again. Sei saw her lower lip tremble. But it stiffened once more, and Sachiko turned toward the lighted entrance to the Mountain Lily Inn, which framed the open-mouthed faces of Goben the innkeeper and his daughter Miyo.
As Sachiko walked carefully toward the door, Sei saw her lean her head gently against Yumi's.
"Well. I suppose that's it, then," Youko said irritably.
"There'll be time for questions and so on later," Fujiwara-dono said.
Youko shook her head as if there were a flea in her ear. "And what did that monstrosity say about 'the coming wars'?" she demanded. "What coming wars? Demon wars? Is that what it meant?"
"I doubt it will be anything so simple," Fujiwara-dono said gravely. "We can talk about it tomorrow. We'll have to talk about it soon, certainly. But for right now, Yumi needs rest, and I suspect Ogasawara-kun does too, after a fight like that, though she puts up a brave enough front. You ought to be proud of her, Mizuno-san."
"I am," Youko said icily.
"Proud, annoyed, same thing," Sei said cheerfully.
Youko sighed. "She killed a demon. She had help, granted. We softened it up before it got here. But she killed it. A demon."
"She and Yumi killed it," Fujiwara-dono corrected. "You'll not forget Yumi's part in it."
"She did generate that water-thing, then?" Youko said. "But how? Sachiko's barely started on teaching her basic magic, correct?"
"Yes," Sei said. "But Yumi surprised us. I'll be bound it's not the last time Yumi will surprise us all."
"What is it, Sei?" Youko was giving Sei one of her hard looks. "You know more than you're saying."
She never was an easy mark, this Mizuno mine. "Know? Not so. I suspect more than I know. Yumi has at least one more magic at her disposal: she can disappear one place and appear in another. These things are natural with her; she wasn't taught them. I think she's barely aware of them, most of the time. And I think she has other gifts we haven't seen yet, tricks of seeming, most of them; slips and sleights to conceal and reveal and tantalize, and pull the wool over the eyes..."
"You almost make her sound like a fox," Youko said doubtfully.
"I almost do, don't I?"
"But... Yumi's human. Isn't she?"
"I think she is."
"Then..."
"Then? When? You know, I believe I'll make it an early night, myself."
"You, Satou-san?" Fujiwara-dono said happily.
"Just watching that fight was tiring. And I should get up early. I haven't even packed. We go a-journeying tomorrow, my clever rabbits. Adieu!"
"Good-night, Sei," Youko said. "I still have to have a word with you, you know."
Sei turned back to face her friend. "Oh? What about?"
"The completely stupid thing you did earlier, that's what. Falling out of the sky onto a demon's head!"
Sei felt great joy. "You saw that?"
"I certainly did!" Youko stood arms akimbo, an outraged look on her face.
Sei drew herself up, and put a hand to her breast. "Was I good?"
Youko sighed, and shook her head. She seemed miffed, for some reason. "You were brilliant, Sei. Of course you were. Never mind. Good night. Thank you for... well, I hardly know what for, actually..."
Sei gave Youko her best smile. "Why, you're heartily welcome, Youko dear. I thank you too, for all sorts of things. Nighty-night!"
And she, too, went inside.
--
Slowly, a bit awkwardly, the party broke up. Most of it drifted in the general direction of the Guild Offices north and west of there. After a few minutes, only Rei and Yoshino stood there. Eriko had touched Yoshino's arm and given her a brief look before leaving her. Rei wondered what that had meant.
Rei just looked at Yoshino for a bit. Drinking in the sight of her. After fighting a demon, and seeing its viciousness and evil thwarted and steam-cooked, Yoshino seemed strangely fresh-faced and innocent.
Yoshino looked back.
"We need to talk," she said at last.
"Yes," Rei agreed immediately. "But not tonight."
"Will you push me away again, if I try to come with you?"
"No," Rei said. And she smiled. She could feel the pain in it, her own smile. She wasn't all the way back yet, from wherever she'd been. But she was smiling at Yoshino, and she meant it. She held out her hand.
Yoshino stepped to her and took her hand quickly. Her eyes were wet. "Rei-chan --"
"Hush," Rei said. "Hush, my precious. Sei and Fujiwara-dono are right: tomorrow's the time for talking."
Together, they went into the Inn.
--
Yumi was dimly aware of being undressed, and of being rubbed with something. Except for a deep, sleepy conviction that everything was all right, it might have startled her awake. She was naked, and then, with no apparent transition, she was clothed in something. Curious, she opened her eyes to look at herself.
She was lying on Sachiko-sama's pallet, and she was wearing one of Sachiko-sama's robes. She felt herself blush furiously, at the sight of her hands not quite poking out of the beautiful purple silk sleeves with acacia flower pattern. She was just able to see a smear of drying mud on the back of one hand, and realized that, though dry, she was still filthy.
Sachiko-sama was standing by her cabinet, fiddling with something. Finally she closed it, and blew out the taper on its stand. She walked in the crisscrossed moonlight shadow made by the paper sliding door to the verandah, and lay down beside Yumi.
"Mistress -- your beautiful robe -- I'm still muddy --" Yumi said, feeling deep shame.
"Mmm? So am I. All your warm robes are packed, and it's still too cold for you to sleep naked... Yumi, please don't fuss about this. I'm a little too tired to listen, just now. We'll have to go to the temple bath right quick in the morning as it is, and there'll be lots of other things to do before the expedition sets out, late morning..."
"But, Mistress --" Yumi fell silent as she felt one of Sachiko-sama's hands on her cheek. She closed her eyes. She just lay there and concentrated on the texture.
Her world was this: she felt the hand, and heard the voice saying, in the dark:
"If you must leave me for your own good, then do so. I will try to do you the courtesy of believing you know best what's best for you. But please -- my Yumi -- don't ever leave me again for my own good. You nearly killed me."
Yumi felt tears coming. Sachiko-sama had missed her, had worried about her. It was too good to be true. But she had to tell her -- "Mistress -- I still don't know -- but, I, I think there are more of them. I think they'll try again --"
"Then we'll deal with them," Sachiko-sama said firmly. "As we dealt with this one. Together."
Yumi opened her eyes in amazement, and beheld her Dark Lady, beautiful, cool and burning in the moonlight.
"Together," Sachiko-sama said, "we are a match for anything."
And Sachiko-sama pulled herself close to Yumi, and kissed her cheek, and held her.
"Goodnight, Yumi."
The tears broke, and rolled, and Yumi was barely aware of them. Yes, all was as it should be. She snuggled up to Sachiko-sama, and closed her eyes. "Goodnight, Mistress."
And they slept.
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