Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,105
buildings, where the sweeping corners of a huge arched gate could be seen over the roofs. “The eastern gate is straight ahead. We cannot stop.”
“Master Jiro, please.” Reika put herself in front of him, her expression one of concern and stubborn resolve. The two dogs stood at her ankles facing the old priest, seeming to echo her words. “The last time your cough appeared and you pushed yourself, you couldn’t get out of bed for a week.”
“Hakaimono could already be closing on the Steel Feather temple,” Master Jiro argued, his voice thin and raspy. “We cannot allow the Master of Demons to acquire even one piece of the scroll. There is no time to delay.” He straightened, gripping his staff tightly. “I will endure. I can do no less—the fate of all depends on us.”
“That might be true,” Okame said, as a horse-drawn cart rolled by us, wheels creaking against the dirt. “But that doesn’t mean we should kill ourselves trying to get there.” He gave the cart a quick glance as it continued down the road, heading toward the gate, then smirked. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going, ronin?” the shrine maiden demanded, but Okame was already jogging away. We watched as he caught up with the cart, brought it to a halt, then held a quick conversation with the driver. The man, perhaps a merchant or a farmer, judging from the number of empty crates in his cart, peered back at me as Okame pointed a finger in our direction, and his eyes widened beneath his conical straw hat.
“All right,” he announced, striding back to us with a rather smug look on his face. “It’s settled. Roshi there has agreed to take us east until he reaches his home town of Mada Ike. From there, it’s a half day’s walk to the Dragon Spine.”
Reika crossed her arms. “And what did you tell the poor man to get him to agree to that?” she asked dubiously.
“Simple. I told him that Yumeko is a distinguished onmyoji who is on a secret but important mission for the emperor himself—that’s why Taiyo-san is here—and that it was his duty to assist her in whatever way he could. He, of course, was all too happy to comply.”
“So you lied.”
“Is it really a lie if the emperor himself believes it?” Okame’s grin was defiant in the face of the shrine maiden’s scowl. “According to the Imperial palace, Yumeko is an onmyoji of great renown, who recently performed so well for Taiyo no Genjiro that she was offered a position in the emperor’s court. I’m sure that, if our wise emperor knew what was happening with Hakaimono and the Master of Demons, he would want us to accomplish our mission.” His grin became sharp. “You certainly had no qualms about marching into the palace under less than honest pretenses. Taiyo-san is exempt because he didn’t know at the time, but you certainly were well aware that our good onmyoji is really a clever kitsune in disguise. And, last I checked, lying to the emperor of Iwagoto is punishable by death.”
“That was necessary.” Reika didn’t back down. “We had to find Lady Satomi and free Master Jiro from her evil blood magic. You’re using an innocent bystander and pulling him into our affairs. What we’re attempting to do is dangerous. This man’s life will be at risk just being around us.”
“Do you want to get to the Dragon Spine quickly or not?” the ronin asked. “We could walk, of course, and waste both time and Master Jiro’s health marching across the plains. Or we could accept Roshi’s generous offer and save ourselves at least half a day getting to the base of the mountain.”
Reika took another breath to argue, but was interrupted by Master Jiro’s raised hand.
“If this man truly wishes to help, Reika-chan, then I see no reason to refuse.” The old priest glanced at the waiting cart with what could almost be relief. “We mustn’t bring shame to his household by refusing such generosity. For the good of the empire, of course.”
The miko sighed, ignoring the ronin’s triumphant grin. “As you wish, master.”
Moments later, with the exception of Master Jiro, who had taken the seat beside the cart driver, we had all crowded into the back of a creaky wooden cart and pressed ourselves between stacks of empty crates and barrels, feeling every bounce and jolt through the wagon as it rumbled down the road.