until the entire cemetery glowed with ethereal luminance. Left behind, the shells of the gaki disappeared, writhing into mist that disappeared on the breeze.
“Arigatou.” I looked back at the monk as he whispered the words. He was fading, too, his ghostly form becoming fainter and fainter as he smiled at me. “Thank you,” he whispered again. “You could not lift the curse on your own, but your courage illuminated the way for those who could. May the Kami bless you, and may you never lose that fire that burns within your soul.”
“Safe travels to you, master monk,” I said. “May your journey to the other side be swift and clear, and may Jinkei light your way so that you will never stumble.”
He bowed to me, and a moment later, became a glowing sphere of light that floated into the air, joining the rest. For a moment, they hovered overhead, almost too bright to look at. Then, as one, they scattered, flying to every corner of the heavens, becoming smaller and smaller until they turned into distant stars and were lost from sight.
PART 3
20
Blood Magic
Lady Satomi was back.
And, from what Suki could see, she was not happy.
“Useless minions,” she muttered, standing in the center of a small, horrifying room. A single candle flickered on a low table, and a cracked, full-length mirror stood in the corner, reflecting the room’s grisly state. The walls were streaked with old blood, the floor stained with dark, unidentifiable patches. Lady Satomi stood there, stunning in blue robes patterned with cranes and dragonflies, her hair perfectly styled and held in place with ivory combs. She looked supremely out of place in the center of the gruesomeness, except for what she held in her hand. The head of a large crow lay cradled in her palm, dripping blood between her fingers to spatter the edges of her robes. The body of the bird lay in the center of the table, a small knife resting beside it in a pool of blood. Suki could barely look at the still twitching corpse, having had to leave the room when the actual deed was performed. Though being able to go through walls made that easier, at least. Lady Satomi’s eyes were closed, a frown stretching her full lips, as if she was watching something she found distressing. Finally, she let out a huff and opened her eyes.
“Two kamaitachi, one wind witch and a giant demon bear,” she grumbled, tossing the severed head to the table, where it landed beside its cooling body. “And Kazekira still couldn’t manage to kill them and take the scroll piece. Sliced to bits by her own familiars, how disgraceful.” She shook her head, plucked a cloth from the mirror and wiped the blood from her hands. “I suppose that is what I get for relying on outside help. If you want something done right...”
Picking up the knife, she regarded her reflection in the surface. As Suki watched, mystified, the woman lowered the blade to the inside of her arm, then cut a short, straight gash along her skin. Blood welled and bubbled from the cut, and Satomi began chanting in a low, hypnotic voice.
Suki felt the whisper of some terrible power go through the air, and trembled in an effort not to flee the room. On Satomi’s raised arm, the line of blood swelled, congealed and became solid. Dozens of legs wriggled, and the long, segmented body of a centipede emerged from the blood and began crawling up her arm.
Satomi smiled. Reaching down, she plucked the monstrous insect from her skin and held it between two fingernails as it writhed and coiled in her grasp. “Go,” she whispered to it. “Find the demonslayer and the fox. Kill them both, feast on their insides and return to me with the scroll. I will be waiting.”
She tossed the centipede to the floor, where it landed with an audible thump. As soon as it hit the ground, it scuttled across the room on hooked yellow legs, squeezed through a crack in the boards and vanished.
Lowering her arm, ignoring the blood that dripped to the floor, Satomi nodded in satisfaction. “Well, that should take care of it,” she murmured to herself. “The demonslayer has become quite troublesome, but once he is dead, this piece of the scroll will be mine.” She sighed, as if wearied by the amount of work still left to do. “Now, I must write an invitation to the palace, and find someone halfway competant