Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,154

his forehead, shoulders and down his back, and a wild white mane framed his terrible face. One claw-tipped hand clutched not a tetsubo or spiked club, but a curved sword with a blade that shone like obsidian, as dark and evil-looking as its owner.

For a moment, Hakaimono stood there, smiling, letting us gaze up at him in horror. I stared into the face of the greatest oni of Jigoku and felt much like a cricket that had foolishly decided to stand up to a cat.

Hakaimono’s ancient, burning gaze met mine, and the First Oni chuckled. “You look surprised, little fox,” he said in a mocking tone. “Was this not what you were expecting? Did you think my true form looked like Tatsumi with horns and sharp teeth?” He grinned, and at my side, Tatsumi took a step forward, placing himself between me and Hakaimono, his glare never leaving the monster towering over us. Hakaimono glanced at him and chuckled again. “Tatsumi always knew. He could feel me, like a stain in his soul, a shadow over everything. He knew, that if that shadow emerged, he would be consumed.”

He cocked his head, gazing down at us in an almost patronizing manner. “My, but you mortals are tiny and pathetic, aren’t you? I could make this sporting, I suppose. Stomping on you like insects seems rather barbaric, something a brute like Yaburama would do. He never understood that the moment of death, when you see the soul fleeing your opponent’s eyes, the moment they understand they’re dead—that is the most beautiful thing in the world.” The eagerness on his face made my skin crawl. “I always wanted to fight you face-to-face, demonslayer,” the oni continued. “Don’t disappoint me, now.”

He raised his arms and vanished in a cloud of flame that seemed to burst out of his skin. The conflagration flared for just a moment, making me wince and turn away. As suddenly as they appeared, however, the flames vanished, and I stared at the figure left behind.

A human-sized Hakaimono grinned at my stunned expression. He was much smaller now, but his size wasn’t all that had changed. He was leaner, not quite as bulky and massive, though the muscles rippling under his inky skin were like cords of steel. His head was still crowned with glowing ember horns, and his mane hung to the center of his back. He looked…almost human now; a supremely dangerous warrior, his obsidian blade held loosely at his side. And strangely, this form was even scarier than the enormous oni lord that had towered over us a few seconds ago.

“There,” Hakaimono said, his voice soft and lethal. He raised his sword and smiled at us across the blade. “Now we will see who is truly worthy to control this body. Because I will never willingly return to that cursed sword. You’re going to have to force my broken, bloodied soul back into that endless torture. So, Tatsumi…” He turned that humorless grin on the demonslayer. “Are you strong enough to defeat me?”

“Maybe not alone,” Tatsumi answered in an equally soft voice. “But it’s not just me now. I don’t have to do this by myself.” His gaze flicked to me, and something in that look made my heart pound. With a tiny smile, Tatsumi turned back to Hakaimono. “The question is—are you strong enough to face us both?”

Hakaimono smirked. “We shall see,” he said, and sank into a low stance, eyes glowing, the terrible black blade held behind him. “Winner takes this body, loser returns to oblivion. Let’s play.”

28

KITSUNE-BI AND DEMONFIRE

Tatsumi

I would not lose this fight.

Alone, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I knew that. I had lived with Hakaimono long enough to know that he was stronger than me. Even here, in the realm of the soul, Hakaimono’s will and sheer power would quickly overwhelm my own. Were I to face the demon myself, I would fall, and he would take over once more.

But, I wasn’t alone. She was here. And just her presence made me stronger, gave me a reason not only to fight, but to win. I could see her beside me, determination outlining every part of her, her golden eyes shining with resolve. Her fox ears stood tall and proud, her white-tipped tail bristling behind her, reminding me of what she was, but instead of being revolting, it filled me with hope. Yumeko wasn’t a warrior or a samurai; she couldn’t wield holy magic or the power of the kami, but she was a