“You hide your disgust well.” With a start, I realized she was speaking to me. Her unclouded eye rolled up to fix me with a bright, intense stare. “Better than Ichiro-san, his lurking little pupil, or even Masao-san here. I was not always like this, you know.” She sniffed and blew out a cloud of smoke, which curled around me like grasping tendrils. “Once, I was so beautiful Emperor Taiyo no Gintaro himself wished to make me his bride, and pined after me when I refused.”
I did not know that emperor’s name. Taiyo no Genjiro was the current emperor ruling from the Golden Palace, and Taiyo no Eiichi was the emperor before him. Not knowing what to say, I remained silent. Hanshou eyed me, her voice turning sly, her lips twisted into a leer. “I could have stolen even your affection, demonslayer,” she stated in a raspy voice. “Made you lust after me as the demon in your sword lusts for battle. You would not have been able to resist. What do you think of that?”
Masao cleared his throat. “My lady, time grows short,” he said. “You will not be able to remain out in this weather much longer. We need to return to Hakumei Castle tonight.”
Hanshou pouted. “Oh, very well,” she sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t tease the boy any longer. But you’re no fun at all, Masao-san.” Sitting a little straighter, she stuck the pipe in her mouth and glared down her nose at me. “Kage demonslayer, I have called you here personally for a very important task. Tonight, I will send you on the mission you were born for.”
She gestured, and Masao came forward to lay several sheets of paper on the table before me. I picked them up. A few were travel documents with the Kage daimyo’s seal; papers that let you pass through the territories of the other clans without being detained at the checkpoints. I was surprised, but only for a moment. Technically, the land was at peace. The last emperor had forbidden open warfare, and the clans had been enjoying a rare period of calm between centuries of fighting and bloodshed. Recently however, it had flared up again, surprising no one. There was too much animosity, too many grudges and feuds and personal vendettas between the Great Clans; all it would take was a single aggressive act, an insult that could not be ignored, and the daimyos would be at each other’s throats again. If I was discovered sneaking through a rival clan’s territory without permission, that might be the act of aggression needed to declare war. And though I was certain I could do it without being caught, I understood Lady Hanshou’s precaution.
The other paper was a scroll that, when smoothed out, displayed a map of the mountains somewhere in Earth Clan territory. A river snaked across the map, cutting through forest and plains, heading north. I thought I recognized it as the Hotaru Kawa, the river that eventually led to Kin Heigen Toshi, the great capital city in the center of Sun Clan territory. The capital, however, was not my destination. By the X marked at the top of the largest mountain peak, I assumed that was my target.
“The Silent Winds temple sits atop the Niwaki Mountains on the eastern edge of Tsuchi lands,” Lady Hanshou said, confirming my suspicion. “You will go to the gates posing as a pilgrim, asking to spend the night. If they let you in, so much the better. If not, you will infiltrate the temple some other way. It doesn’t matter how you get in, only that you find what you were sent for.”
“Understood,” I replied. A temple full of monks was not my normal mark; most orders were peaceful, reflective organizations that stayed neutral from the politics and fighting of the clans. But it was not my place to question my daimyo. “Who is my target?”
“This is not a killing,” Lady Hanshou replied, to my immense surprise. “I am sending you to retrieve an item for me. I would rather there not be slaughter, but there could be instances where your particular talents will come in handy. I am sending you, Tatsumi, because Ichiro believes that among your fellow shinobi, you are the best, and getting to the item might prove challenging, even for one such as yourself.” Her good eye narrowed, her words becoming harsh. “But it is imperative that you retrieve the item. I don’t care what it takes, who you have to kill. Do not dare to return without it—that is an order from your daimyo.” Her voice grew even harsher, becoming a raspy growl that send a chill up my back. “Kage demonslayer, know that if you fail me, the consequences will be dire. We will be watching you, and the Shadow Clan does not tolerate disobedience. Do you understand?”
“My lady, my life is bound to the Kage.” I bowed low once more, reciting the words that were expected. It didn’t matter if I meant them; they were true nonetheless. “And to you. I will not fail. Only tell me what I am searching for, and it will be done. What must I retrieve?”
Lady Hanshou’s eye burned feverishly bright in the darkened room, and her lips curved in a faint smile. “A certain scroll I lost,” she whispered, “years and years ago.”
Tanuki Tea
I hated lighting the candles in the main hall.
Two hundred and seventy-seven. There were two hundred and seventy-seven candles that had to be lit, individually, around the room. Every evening, before sundown, so the monks could hold their nightly meditations. I don’t remember when it officially became my duty to light the candles; I suspected Denga or Nitoru had suggested the idea to Master Jin, the old monk who cared for the hall, to “teach me patience and dedication.” Certainly, you had to have both for this task. The main hall was enormous, with towering pillars and dark wood floors polished to such a sheen that you could see every flickering candle flame within. At the end of the hall stood the enormous green statue of the Jade Prophet, whose teachings all monks sought to emulate. There were no windows, and the only natural light came through the massive wooden doorway at the entrance, so the chamber was constantly dark and quiet. When all the candles were lit, they created a hazy orange glow throughout the room, transforming the hall into a surreal haven of shadow and dancing lights.
But it took forever to light them all.
I sighed, lowering the candlestick to gaze mournfully around the room. So many more to go. I hadn’t even reached the thirty or so candles on the altar. If only there was a way to light them all at once...
I paused, and a grin spread across my face at the idea. Actually, I could light them all at once. I was kitsune, after all. Kitsune-bi was fire, wasn’t it? Heatless, magical fire, but much easier to manipulate than normal flames. The monks wouldn’t like it, of course. Nitoru and Denga definitely would not approve, but then, they didn’t approve of anything I did.
I blew out the candle in my hand, then set it on the floor. Rising, I half closed my eyes, brought my open palm before my face and called on my magic.
A ghostly, blue-white flame sputtered to life between my fingers. It flickered and danced harmlessly against my skin, casting eerie shadows over the walls and pillars, growing steadily larger until I cupped a glowing sphere of foxfire. For just a moment, I saw my shadow on the wall of the temple: a human figure with pointed ears and a bushy tail rippling behind it.
Raising my head, I flung my hand out in an arc, and kitsune-bi scattered in all directions, tiny flames that flew across the room like falling stars. Lowering my arm, I observed my handiwork smugly. The hall now glowed with blue-white foxfire, luminescent flames that hovered on the end of candlewicks. In my opinion, it was much prettier than ordinary fire, though it did give the chamber a rather eerie, ghostly feel.
But more important, all the candles were lit. And it was still a good hour until evening meditations. I was free until then. Dusting my hands, I headed for the exit.
Voices outside made me freeze. I sidled along the wall to the door and peeked through the frame. Jin was walking up the steps toward the main hall and worse, Denga was beside him.
Oh no. My ears flattened in alarm, and I backed swiftly away. If they caught me, I’d probably get a lecture: maybe on the value of patience and dedication to one’s task. Maybe they’d forbid me from using magic again. At the very least, they’d make me start over, lighting every candle one by one, under supervision this time.