Shadow of The Fox (Shadow of the Fox #1) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,146

what stands in my way.”

“Hold on, hold on,” the ronin protested. “I’m all for jumping into strange mirrors and all, but what if it dumps us into a pit of demons? Or centipedes?”

With a sharp yip, Chu rushed forward, leaped toward the mirror and vanished through the glass in a streak of orange and white. As the rest of us stared in shock, he reappeared, bounding back through the mirror to give us an impatient look, before leaping through once more.

“Okay,” said the ronin with a shrug. “Good enough for me.”

I shut my eyes and stepped through the gateway, feeling strands of magic slide over my skin, cold and clinging, like walking through a spiderweb in the dead of winter. When I opened my eyes, I gazed around and felt Kamigoroshi stir to life.

“Oh, Kami.” I heard Reika whisper.

The six of us—five humans and a dog—stood beneath an ancient torii gate, the once colorful wood half-rotted and crumbling into ash. Spread before us was the devastated, shattered remains of what had once been a village or town. Houses and buildings lay destroyed, smashed to kindling, walls crumbled and roofs fallen in. For many of the structures, nothing was left but a few blackened sticks and charred ruins. Rubble lay everywhere, the air smelled of death and nothing stirred in the shadows. No signs of life, or people, or anything alive. This place, whatever it had been, was a village of yurei now.

“Where is she?” the shrine maiden muttered, gazing around with narrowed eyes. “Where did the witch slither off to?”

“And where the hell are we?” the ronin echoed, his breath clouding into the air before writhing away on the sharp, chilly breeze. “Also, and this may be cause for some concern—I don’t see a mirror lying around. How are we going to get back?”

There was no sign of the blood mage. Or a mirror of any sort. The ruined village lay silent and empty; no glimmer of pale skin or flutter of kimono sleeves could be seen through the devastation. A half-burned banner flapped mournfully from a beam, the only sound in the absolute stillness.

“That’s the crest of the Yotaka,” the noble said, gazing the rippling, half-burned cloth. “A vassal to the Sora family. Which means...we’re in Sky Clan territory?” He shook his head in amazement. “But that can’t be right. Sora lands are hundreds of miles from the Imperial City.”

That explained the sudden drop in temperature. Sky Clan territory lay on the northern edge of Iwagoto, and claimed the frigid Kori no Hari peaks as their domain. From the distant snowcapped mountains, looming beyond the village, we were probably on the very edge of the Sora family lands. “Satomi is a blood mage,” I reminded them grimly. “She probably has several of these gateways seeded throughout the palace, in case she needs a quick escape, or a location to work her blood magic in peace.”

“Oh, that’s just great,” the ronin snapped. “Quick, let’s all follow the blood witch through the mirror of death without knowing what’s on the other side. Oh look, an empty, ruined village in the middle of nowhere, I wonder what could be here? Certainly not demons, or gaki, or—”

“Yurei,” Yumeko whispered.

“Or ghosts,” the ronin agreed. “Right, I’m sure there are no angry ghosts around, either.”

“No,” the girl said, and pointed down the road. “Look.”

We turned. A glowing ball of blue-white luminance floated silently in the middle of the road where nothing had been before. It bobbed once, then glided soundlessly away, trailing a long tail of light behind it, then reappeared, hovering several feet off the ground.

“Hitodama,” the shrine maiden whispered. “A human soul lingering on in the world.”

“A ghost?” the noble mused.

“Yes and no.” The miko’s voice was full of pity. “Yurei are the spirits of the deceased. This is someone’s soul that, for some reason, is unable to pass on.”

“It looks like it wants us to follow it,” Yumeko observed, as the light bobbed away, then returned, pulsing softly against the dark.

The ronin blew out a breath. “Well, there’s nothing around here,” he said. “Let’s see where the glowing dead person wants to take us.”

Cautiously, we followed the bobbing orb of light, ducking under beams and charred pillars, weaving through the skeletons of watchtowers that had fallen into the road. The village, except for our own footsteps and breathing, remained deathly silent and still. Ahead, the glowing sphere moved at a steady pace, always close enough to see but keeping a good distance