Shadow of The Fox (Shadow of the Fox #1) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,73
jutting from his middle.
“Okame!” bellowed the bandit leader. “You filthy traitor! How dare you turn on us?”
“Hey, I’m an honorless ronin dog, remember?” Okame called back, grinning savagely as he sent an arrow toward his former leader. Noboru swiftly raised his club, and the dart struck the wooden head. “That’s what we do!”
“Kill him!” Noboru roared at the remaining archer, and started down the steps. “Both of them!”
Tatsumi’s sword hissed free, as the warrior leaped up the steps to confront the huge bandit striding toward us. Fear shot through me as Noboru swung his club in two hands, sweeping it through the air at Tatsumi’s head. The warrior ducked, and the bandit struck the trunk of a tree with a loud crack, leaving a massive dent in the wood. Kamigoroshi flashed, cutting across Noboru’s bulging stomach, and the bandit howled in pain and rage.
A curse behind me caught my attention. Near the bottom of the steps, Okame was on his back, bow raised and desperately blocking the other bandit’s sword as it hacked and stabbed at him. Tatsumi was busy with the bandit leader, and there was no one else around who could help. If I didn’t aid the ronin, he could die.
I drew my tanto and stared at the knife for a moment, hands shaking. I had never used it against a person, but I couldn’t employ fox magic or kitsune-bi now. Striding down the steps, I raised the knife and slashed at the bandit attacking Okame, cutting his arm. He jerked back with a yelp, glaring at me, giving Okame enough time to sit up, draw the sword at his belt and stab him through the chest.
“Arigatou, Yumeko-san,” Okame gasped, scrambling upright. There was a gash across his cheek, and a puncture wound seeping blood over his vest, but he was still grinning as he shook his head at me. “That was one hell of a crumb—aagh!”
He jerked upright, grimacing, as an arrow streaked from the top of the steps and hit him in the back. I caught him as he fell forward, and staggered under his weight. He clutched at my robes, loosening the furoshiki, and something dropped from the wrapping cloth. The shiny lacquered scroll case hit the top of the steps with a faint clink, then rolled steadily toward the edge of the staircase.
My heart turned to ice. Swiftly, I stepped on the case, halting it before it could drop off the edge. In my arms, the ronin was a heavy, gasping weight, as we both teetered edge of the stairs.
“Okame-san,” I gritted out, gazing desperately at the ronin while trying to keep us both upright and the scroll from rolling down the steps. “All you all right? Can you stand?”
He raised his head with a shudder. “Kuso,” he swore, staggering back a pace. “Dammit, I guess I should’ve known better...than to turn my back.”
Whirling, he raised his bow and fired at the top of the steps. The last archer, who had been taking aim at Tatsumi, jerked as an arrow hit him in the throat, and toppled backward into the brush. At the same time, I bent and grabbed the scroll from the edge of the staircase, then stuffed it in my robes as I bounced back up. Safe! I think. Let’s hope Tatsumi was too busy to see that.
A thunderous crash came from the center of the stairs as Noboru pitched forward, hit the ground and rolled the rest of the way to the bottom. His blank, beady eyes peered up at us as his head flopped to the side, a line of crimson splitting his face nearly in two. I shivered and looked away, as Okame let out a soft curse.
“Yep...” He sighed, staggering back a pace. “That was...incredibly stupid, Okame.”
He collapsed to the stones.
I looked around for Tatsumi. Near the top of the steps, the demonslayer calmly flicked blood from his sword and turned to me, crimson streaked across his face and forearms. His eyes glowed purple in the fading light. I tensed, wondering if he would say anything about the scroll or what had happened with the ronin, but he only sheathed his weapon and turned away. “We’re done here,” he said quietly. “Let’s go, before it gets too dark.”
I turned back toward Okame, crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, and my stomach twisted. “Tatsumi, wait,” I called. He paused, and I nodded at the ronin’s still, bloody form. “What about Okame?”