Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,139

and smiled at the kitsune, furtively testing the strength of the chains as I met her gaze. “You see, I knew you were here somewhere. This cunning little trap had the stench of fox magic all over it. I’ve been wanting to see you again, Yumeko-chan. So has Tatsumi.” I chuckled, even as the soul inside me surged up, stronger than I had ever felt before. “I wanted you to come out and play, little fox,” I continued, as Tatsumi raged at me, desperate and furious. “I didn’t want you skulking back in the shadows, looking on while the rest of your friends screamed and died. Foxes aren’t the only ones who can play tricks. And now that you’ve finally come out of hiding, the real fun can begin.”

She paled, her black-tipped ears flattening against her skull. Behind her, the shrine maiden pulled out another ofuda, and the chanting of the tengu grew louder, more insistent. I could feel the chains tightening around me, burning as they dug into my skin, and bared my fangs.

Watch carefully, Tatsumi. Take a good look at your precious kitsune’s face, for this is the last time you’ll see her alive.

With a roar, I surged up, shattering the chains that held me, and the binding scattered to the wind.

Instantly, the komainu lunged at me with a snarl, jaws gaping wide to tear off my face. I stepped back, raised Kamigoroshi and impaled the lunging dog through the throat. With a ringing howl, the komainu dissolved into a swirl of crimson-and-gold mist and disappeared.

Raising Kamigoroshi, I lunged through the cloud of red, sweeping the blade down at my targets. Yumeko leaped backward with a yelp, but the shrine maiden stepped forward, raising her ofuda, in a foolish bid to intercept me. The blade sliced down, cutting into flesh, and the miko screamed as her arm dropped to the ground, severed at the elbow, bloody fingers still clutching the strip of paper.

An arrow hit me in the back, making me stagger. I turned with a growl and caught sight of the figure standing outside the ring, already nocking another arrow to his bow. He darted behind a pillar, as the tengu who had been chanting at the edge of the circle now drew swords and spears and set upon me with furious cries.

Roaring, I lunged into the midst of the warrior yokai, sword flashing. They split apart like bags of rice, blood and feathers flying through the air. As I stabbed one tengu in the throat, I reached out and snatched his spear as he fell away, tearing it from his grip. Whirling, I cut down another crow warrior and as the yokai fell, hefted the spear and hurled it through the space the falling body had left. The weapon slammed into the annoying ronin archer as he was drawing his bow, hurling him back and pinning him to the column. His mouth gaped, hands clutching at the spear through his middle, before he slumped lifelessly against the wood.

Two down. I grinned, thoroughly enjoying myself now. Spinning back, I whirled and slashed through the final ranks of tengu, carving them into pieces, until only the old daitengu was left. He did not attempt to fight or protect himself as I came in, covered in the blood of his slaughtered clan. He simply stared at me, chin raised, as I brought Kamigoroshi down and split the ancient yokai in half.

Now for the finale.

Straightening, I turned and walked back to the altar, taking a casual swipe at the softly moaning shrine maiden kneeling on the floor as I passed. The blade passed easily through the slender neck, and her head toppled forward, landing with a thump behind her. Headless, the miko slumped to the floor. I looked up, over the field of death and carnage, and met the glazed, terrified eyes of the kitsune, sitting with her back against the altar that held the scroll.

Inside, Tatsumi had gone very still. Perhaps he was gathering his strength for a final, desperate attempt to intervene. Or perhaps he realized there was nothing he could do, and was bracing himself for the inevitable. The kitsune stared at me as I approached, trembling as I stepped over the bodies of her former friends to stand before her. Her eyes were huge, glassy with horror and disbelief. But she still met my gaze steadily, as if searching for the soul trapped within. It was almost endearing, that desperate hope that somehow, even now, she