of swirling energy.
“Blood magic,” Hanshou said. “An extremely complex, powerful ritual. I have not felt anything so strong in...centuries. They are using the lives lost, the blood spilled and the slaughter here to power whatever it is they are doing. An entire city’s worth of carnage and death. I shudder to imagine what Genno is planning.”
At my side, the noble blew out a horrified breath. “Kage-san, we must return to the palace,” he said, turning to me in alarm. “Kiyomi-sama must know about this. Yumeko-san, as well.”
“An excellent idea,” said Lady Hanshou, smiling faintly at the Taiyo noble. “Let us all return to the palace. I imagine Kiyomi-sama will want to know why a contingent of Kage warriors suddenly appeared in her city out of nowhere. Hakaimono,” she went on, her voice growing softer as she turned to me. “You and I go back a long way, First Oni. I know you wish to take your vengeance, and perhaps you will one day.” Her eyes narrowed. “But on this day, we have the same enemy. And he is close to achieving victory. The Shadow Clan is here, and we will offer whatever aid we can. I suggest you take it.”
“On one condition,” I told her, making the ancient daimyo raise a perfectly inked eyebrow. “Stop calling me Hakaimono. My name is Kage Tatsumi, and I am no longer yours to command.”
Lady Hanshou blinked at that, and a faint smile curled one corner of her lips, but she only nodded. “Then let us go, before Genno completes whatever ritual he is casting.”
* * *
The journey back to the palace was swift. Demons and yokai still roamed the streets, but they appeared to be fleeing the city instead of attacking. We killed the stragglers we came across without slowing down, and soon reached the outer walls of the palace.
When we entered the courtyard, we came upon a scene of slaughter. Bodies of both humans and yokai, samurai and monsters alike, were scattered across the stones. It was clear that a horrific battle had taken place here, and worry for Yumeko twisted my stomach. Hanshou’s expression was grim as she gazed around at the massacre and I remembered her words about death powering the ritual. If that was truly the case, then Genno would have all the blood and butchery he needed.
I saw the Moon Clan daimyo in the courtyard, directing samurai and servants as she dealt with the aftermath of the brutal battle. Spotting us, her eyes widened, and she straightened quickly, her attention not on me or the Taiyo noble, but on the Kage daimyo striding toward her over the carnage. Lady Hanshou’s demeanor was calm as she and Masao walked easily across the yard, but by Kiyomi-sama’s expression, the Tsuki daimyo wasn’t entirely certain that having the Shadow Clan appear in her city was a good thing.
“Daisuke!”
The ronin came hurrying across the courtyard, dodging or leaping over bodies, his gaze only for the Taiyo. The noble didn’t move, only held out an arm, and before samurai, daimyos and servants alike, pulled Okame close as the ronin crashed into him.
“Yokatta,” muttered Okame, his voice muffled against the noble’s haori. “You’re alive.” His brow furrowed, and he pulled back to glare at the Taiyo, shaking his head. “Baka noble. Why do you always have to fling yourself at the biggest thing on the battlefield?”
“Forgive me.” Daisuke’s lips curved faintly, and one hand rose to touch the ronin’s face. “But I was in no danger. I promised I would not meet that glorious death without you, Okame-san. And I have yet to break a promise.” His fingers traced the stubbly jaw, and the other shivered. “We are here, and we are victorious. It is not yet our time.”
The ronin sighed, his face darkening as a flicker of grief went through his eyes. “We lost Reika.”
I straightened, and Daisuke’s eyes widened. Shoulders slumping, Okame turned, observing the massacre spread through the open yard.
“It was crazy,” he muttered. “Demons and yokai everywhere, all trying to get to the daimyo and slaughter the rest of us on the way. And that was before they brought out this huge, eight-headed monster that started killing everything in its path.”
“The Orochi?”