Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,152

as if trying to suck away all life. “Tatsumi,” I called once more, though my voice came out breathy and choked. “I’m here. I came, like I promised. Can you hear me?”

For a few heartbeats, there was no answer. Then, a tiny furrow creased Tatsumi’s brow. His eyelids fluttered, cracked open, and I saw the faintest glimmer of violet as he peered down at me.

“Yumeko.” His voice was a breath, a whisper of disbelief and hope. “You’re…here? But, I thought…” Slowly, as if in pain, he shook his head. “I saw Hakaimono kill you.”

“Illusions,” I told him softly, my voice rather shaky with relief. “Shadows, tricks and fox magic, Tatsumi. Nothing Hakaimono saw was real.”

“Are you real?” Tatsumi whispered. “Or is this…another dream? I can’t tell anymore.” A ripple of anguish crossed his face, and he closed his eyes. “No,” he muttered. “I don’t dare hope…She’ll just be gone when I look up again.”

My vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly to clear it. “I’m not a dream,” I told him, taking another step. “I’m not going to disappear this time, Tatsumi. Look at me.” Those piercing eyes fixed on me again, and I tried not to shiver under that intense gaze. “I promised I would come,” I whispered. “I’m not going to let Hakaimono win. If he wants you, he’s going to have to kill me, first.”

Kitsune-bi flared to life in my palms. I glared up at the evil chains, which flickered and spat and curled tighter around Tatsumi, as if knowing I had come to destroy them. I hesitated a moment longer, watching the ominous pulse and flicker, then reached up and wrapped my fingers around the throbbing links.

Pain seared my hand. I gasped, but set my jaw and hung on, as blue-white foxfire flared and sputtered against the angry glow of the chains. They hissed, sending strands of red-black lightning arcing down the links, making everything pulse wildly. Overhead, Tatsumi cried out, clenching his fists and arching his head back, making my heart twist. Beneath my fingers, I could feel the chain writhing and squirming, as if it was alive. My palm was on fire, burning, bringing tears to my eyes. I wanted, so badly, to let go. I suddenly felt that if I hung on too long, I, too, would become trapped, tangled in Hakaimono’s will with no hope of freeing myself or the soul I’d come to save.

With a growl, I flattened my ears and pictured the foxfire in my hands, imagining a white-hot inferno that could melt steel and burn away all the evil in the world. You can’t have him, I snarled at the web of chains, at Hakaimono himself, wherever he was. I will fight to the death if I have to. Let him go!

The kitsune-bi surged up with a roar, stronger than I’d ever felt, swallowing the glowing links in my hand and racing up the length of chain. Beneath my fingers, the chain shook wildly…and then dissolved as the foxfire consumed it, turning to black smoke that coiled away into nothingness. Kitsune-bi raced up the links, engulfing the entire web as, for a moment, the blaze of blue-white foxfire was almost too bright to look at.

With a shriek that sounded almost human, the tangle of chains vanished into the surge of kitsune-bi, becoming dark wisps that curled away into the void. With nothing left to consume, the foxfire flared once more and flickered out, plunging the room into darkness.

Tatsumi, freed at last from the soul-sucking chains, dropped to the ground.

For a moment, he knelt there, head bowed, shoulders heaving with deep, ragged breaths. Heart pounding, I dropped in front of him and peered into his face. His eyes were closed, his skin ashen, but the subtle light that had been emanating from within was growing brighter.

“Tatsumi?” Very softly, I touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

The demonslayer took another deep breath and slowly straightened, gazing down at his hands, as if still expecting to see chains stabbing beneath his flesh. “They’re gone,” he panted, and clenched both fists. “I’m…free. I never thought…” Brilliant indigo eyes finally rose to mine, slowly focusing as all the pain, despair and hopelessness began falling away. “Yumeko,” he whispered, still sounding uncertain that what he saw was real. Carefully, one hand rose, the fingertips brushing my cheek, and then his rough, calloused palm was against my skin.

“You’re here,” Tatsumi breathed, and in that open, soulful gaze, everything I was going to say seemed inadequate. I lunged