Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,149

into the sacred hall. Whatever it takes, we cannot let the scroll pieces fall to the Master of Demons!”

A shriek rang across the stones. Suki looked up and felt terror swallow her in an immobilizing wave. Creatures were spilling into the courtyard, a horde of demons, yokai and other beings straight out of nightmares. Tiny creatures with tattered ears and a mouthful of pointed teeth swarmed over the rocks, cackling and waving crude weapons. A centipede the size of a horse scuttled over the wall, its segmented black carapace glinting in the moonlight. An enormous bloated creature with eight spindly limbs and the pale face of a woman crawled up to perch on a tower, smiling as she observed the chaos below.

Suki trembled, watching the demons approach, waiting for the moment the small group around her would scatter. But instead of fleeing, the winged bird monsters raised their spears and surged forward with defiant battle cries. They met the army in the center of the courtyard, and pandemonium erupted.

A familiar laugh jerked Suki out of her daze. Stunned, she looked up to see Daisuke draw his weapon, a fierce, defiant smile on his face as he took a step toward the approaching horde.

“Come, Okame-san!” he said, raising his sword in front of him. “Our glorious death approaches. Let us meet it with honor.”

The other man cursed and sent an arrow streaking into the chaos. “What about Yumeko?” he panted, putting a second dart through the throat of a giant, bipedal rat racing toward them. “We can’t leave her unprotected, she’ll get torn to pieces. Reika-san?”

With a howl, the tiny dog at the miko’s feet reared up, becoming a huge red creature with a golden mane and massive paws. The shrine maiden pulled an ofuda from her sleeves and brandished it before her. “We still don’t know what’s happening to her inside Kage-san,” she snapped, hurling the slip of paper at the raging battle, where it exploded in a burst of fire. “She won’t wake unless her spirit returns to her body—she must still be looking for the demonslayer’s soul, or fighting Hakaimono. They probably don’t know what’s happening.”

The archer yelped, ducking as a spear hurtled toward him, then put an arrow into the demon that had thrown it. “Well, if we don’t retreat, she won’t have a body to return to!” he snarled. “We’re too exposed out here—we need to fall back.”

More monsters swarmed the courtyard. The miko’s guardian roared as it reared up and crushed a giant centipede beneath its paws. The shrine maiden grimaced and fell back a step, looking desperate, then her gaze snapped to Suki.

“You…” she breathed, but at that moment a booming howl shook the air, and an enormous flying head, teeth bared and trailing orange flames, fell toward them like a boulder.

27

FINDING THE LOST

Yumeko

The shadows were stalking me.

How long I had been here, in the darkest recesses of Tatsumi’s soul, I wasn’t certain. Dark, featureless things haunted my steps, trailing me down the narrow corridors and through empty rooms. I didn’t know what they were; their inky black forms resembled men, samurai or shinobi following me through the halls of the castle, living shadows come to life. Perhaps they were part of Hakaimono’s influence, perhaps they were Tatsumi’s fears and regrets, pieces of himself he had lost. I just knew I didn’t want to run into them.

The shadows weren’t the only things chasing me. Somewhere in the vine-choked castle, Hakaimono’s dark presence stalked the corridors, getting ever closer. I could feel his cold amusement through the very walls, patiently searching for me, knowing our paths would eventually cross. I couldn’t hide from him forever. Once or twice, I knew he was close, perhaps just another corridor away, a few thin paper walls separating us. I could feel his footsteps through the floor, making the air shiver. Grimly, I pressed on, hopelessly lost, following a faint heartbeat that called to me like a beacon.

Deeper.

Finally, after a few minutes or a lifetime of searching, the hallways came to an end, and I knew I couldn’t turn back. Before me, at the end of the corridor, a wooden stairwell led down into utter blackness. Standing at the edge, I closed my eyes and listened, feeling a weak pulse of life somewhere far below.

Calling a tiny ball of foxfire to my hand, I descended into the dark.

I seemed to venture into the depths of the earth itself. Or perhaps the darkest parts of the soul. When the steps