to help him,” I finished. “I promised I would. And I will face Hakaimono, with or without your aid. And if you can’t help me, I ask only that you not try to kill Hakaimono until you’re certain that I have failed to save the soul inside him.”
The daitengu stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Foolish girl,” he rasped, shaking his head. “You are going to die, and your stubbornness will likely get all your friends killed, as well. But, I can see that you will not be persuaded.” He closed his eyes a moment, then nodded. “If this is what you wish to do, then the Steel Feather temple will aid you however we can. But,” he added, holding up a withered claw, “we will not abandon our sacred duty to protect the scroll. If it seems that Hakaimono is in danger of acquiring what he seeks, we will have no choice but to destroy him.”
“I understand,” I said, and bowed low to the ancient tengu. “Arigatou gozaimasu.”
He rose, his great wings flaring behind him. “You and your friends are welcome in the temple,” he told me. “But I fear we do not have a lot of time.” He glanced at the sky, where a mass of clouds could be seen over the distant peaks, and frowned. “There is a storm coming. Eat, rest and pray to the kami, for now we plan for what we must do when the First Oni arrives on our doorstep.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “Truly. Oh, and what about…?”
I reached into my furoshiki and withdrew the scroll, holding it out to him. The daitengu regarded it solemnly, as if he could hear the thoughts of the scroll itself, then shook his head.
“For now, hold on to your burden, little fox,” he said. “You have brought it far, and have protected it from many evils. In all your journeys, the demonslayer never realized the very thing he was after was right under his nose, which means the First Oni does not know your secret, either. Keep it safe awhile longer. At least until the fight with Hakaimono is done.”
I swallowed and returned the scroll to my furoshiki, tucking it safely into the folds again. I didn’t know what he saw, if he saw anything, but I was surprisingly relieved not to have to give up my burden just yet. I had carried it for so long, kept it hidden and safe; it almost seemed a part of me now.
The daitengu gave me a scrutinizing look, his eyes grim in the light of the moon. “Hakaimono will be the hardest opponent you have ever faced, little fox,” he warned. “If we make a single mistake, the smallest error of judgment, the First Oni will show us no mercy. It will take every ounce of bravery, determination, strength and fox trickery we can muster to defeat him. If there was ever a time to see exactly what your magic can do, it is now.”
22
QUESTIONS OF YUREI
Suki
Lord Seigetsu was meditating again.
Within the red and dark wood interior of the flying carriage, everything was quiet. Taka, exhausted from his frigid march through the territory of the snow woman, had curled up beneath several blankets in the corner and was dead to the world. Occasional snorts and snores came from the quilted lump, breaking the silence, but it didn’t seem to disturb Seigetsu, who sat motionless with his back to the wall and his hands in his lap. His ball was missing, Suki noticed. Which was odd, because she was certain she’d seen it when he first began meditating, balanced on his thumbs as usual. But it wasn’t there now, so she must have imagined it.
Suki drifted aimlessly around the carriage, floating from one side to the other, wondering when they would reach their destination. For a moment, she envied Taka, snoring obliviously in the corner. When the little yokai was awake, his cheerful, constant chatter was a good distraction. In the silence, she was left with her own thoughts, which terrified her and which she could do nothing about.
“It must be wearying, never to sleep.”
Suki looked up. Lord Seigetsu’s eyes were open now, shining gold in the darkness of the carriage, watching her. Suki ducked her head, thinking her aimless drifting had disturbed him, but he offered a small smile, indicating he wasn’t angry, and tucked his hands into his sleeves. He looked…tired, Suki realized. His shoulders sagged a bit, and his poised, elegant face