falling when I finally reached the dense forest and rolling hills at the foot of the mountains, glad to be out of the snow and into the normal muggy temperatures of late summer. Oni could not freeze to death, but we were creatures of fire and heat, and our blood could burn human flesh where it touched. I was not fond of the cold.
The moon was rising when I at last reached the edge of the trees and found myself near a dusty road that meandered toward a lonely little village on the edge of the lake. Thatched huts were built on stilts near the water, and a series of wooden docks lined the lake’s edge, with dozens of boats bobbing on the surface. From here, Lake Seijun looked like a small sea, stretching so far into the darkness that you couldn’t glimpse the other side.
A breeze rippled through the air, smelling of fish and lake water, and the faint sound of humming reached my ears over the lapping of the waves. Scanning the lake edge, I spotted a lone fishing boat near the shore, the light of a lantern bobbing on a pole at the back. A wiry human hummed as he dragged a net filled with wriggling fish over the side, and I smiled.
Silently stepping out of the trees, I began walking toward the lake.
Preoccupied with his fish and his humming, the old human didn’t even see me until I had leaped quietly into his boat. “Pardon me,” I said as he dropped his catch to the deck and whirled. His scowl changed to an expression of terror and he opened his mouth to scream, but I clamped a talon over his withered neck and squeezed, crushing the sound from it. “But I need to borrow your boat.”
The human thrashed. His hands flew to my wrist and clawed frantically, as his mouth gaped, trying to make a sound. I raised him off the floor, waiting until his struggles ceased and he dangled limply from my grasp, nearly senseless, before loosening my hold just enough for him to suck in a ragged breath.
“Now,” I said pleasantly. “As I said before, I need to borrow your boat. And you, my good human, are going to take me to the island in the middle of the lake. You know the one, I’m sure.” He gasped, and I tightened my hold again, squeezing the breath from his windpipe before he could protest. “You can either take me to the island,” I went on, “or I can dump your guts in the lake for the fishes, your choice. What’s it to be?”
The human was as white as parchment, now, his lips tinged with blue and his eyes wide. He scrabbled at the claws around his throat, then pointed frantically to the oars, lying in the bottom of the vessel. I bared my fangs in a grin. “A wise choice.”
I dropped him to the floor of the boat, where he landed in a crumpled heap, whimpering like a dog. I waited to see if he would try to hurl himself over the side. If he did, he would find himself with his stomach ripped open and his entrails floating in the water. After struggling to his knees, he threw out his hands and pressed his forehead to the wood, ignoring the water and the fish that flopped and gasped over the planks.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please, great lord, I beg you, have mercy! It is forbidden to set foot on the island. The curse…”
“I am well aware of the curse, mortal,” I interrupted. “It does not concern me.” I stepped forward so that my shadow fell over his cringing form. “If you cannot take me there, then I have no further need of you. Say hello to the fishes when you meet them at the bottom of the lake.”
“No!” The human flinched. Straightening, he picked up the oars lying on the floor of the boat and climbed slowly onto the seat. “Kami, forgive me,” he whispered. Without looking at me, he pointed the nose of the vessel northwest and started paddling into the darkness.
Several minutes passed, and the shoreline disappeared, followed by the lights. Soon, there was only open water, the moonlight reflecting off the waves and the stars overhead. As the fisherman worked the oars, I kept my gaze on the horizon where the water met the sky.
After a few hours of steady rowing, I finally spotted something new on the surface of the