guide into the shadowy back alleys of Ogi Owari.
The Lucky Frog gambling hall stood on a narrow street next to a textiles warehouse and a dilapidated restaurant. It was a large, two-story building with blue tiled roofs, wooden slats across the windows and a pair of burly looking men guarding the entrance. A faded sign picturing a smiling frog holding up a gold coin hung crookedly over the door.
The neko sniffed. “There,” she stated in a tone of bored grandeur. “The Lucky Frog gambling hall, exactly where I said it would be. Now, don’t you feel foolish doubting the word of a cat, field fox?”
“This is the Lucky Frog?” I murmured, gazing up at the rooftops, looking for odd shadows or flickers of movement that shouldn’t be there. “I hope Daisuke and Okame are all right.” Glancing down at the cat, I offered a smile and quick bow. “Thank you for escorting me here, neko-san. I’m in your debt.”
She curled her whiskers. “As if I need the favor of a forest creature,” she said disdainfully. With a sniff, she raised her chin and turned away. “I am bored now. Do what you like, kitsune. Hopefully I will not see you again in the future. Oh, but a friendly warning. In case your pathetic human instincts could not sense it, we were being followed.”
Alarm flickered and I looked around, though the shadows overhead were empty. “Followed? By whom?”
“A human.” The cat yawned, waving her tails. “A silly human in black, thinking it is being silent and unseen as it creeps through the darkness. I see their kind often, skulking through the city. Pretending they are cats. Pathetic.” She twitched her whiskers. “Farewell, forest creature. Do leave my territory as soon as you are able.”
Twin tails in the air, the neko trotted away, slipped into an alley between two buildings and was gone.
Keeping an eye out for lurking shinobi, I hurried across the road and approached the entrance to the Lucky Frog. The two men standing at the doors were both very large. Their haori jackets hung open in the front, showing off their enormous stomachs and swirls of painted skin. I saw a tiger in lethal combat with a white snake etched down one man’s body, while his friend was so covered in colorful ink it looked like he was wearing another shirt. They saw me approaching and straightened, puzzled looks crossing their jowly faces, but before I could do or say anything, the door between them slid open and a body came hurtling through. It hit the edge of the street and rolled to a stop in a cloud of dust, as lantern light flickered over a familiar reddish-brown ponytail. I gasped and hurried forward as the body groaned and shifted in the dirt.
“Okame-san!”
“Kuso,” growled the ronin, struggling upright. Raising his head, he glared at the door, where another large man dusted his hands off and turned away. “I didn’t have anything in my sleeves, you bastards!” he called. “And if you think I was the only one with weighted dice in there, you’re dumber than the monkeys tattooed on your ass!”
“Are you all right, Okame-san?” I asked, as the ronin pushed himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. His clothes were different, I noticed; his brown hakama and unmarked red haori were absent of blood and grime, and he was mostly clean. “What happened to you?” The ronin gave me a dark, slightly sour look and turned away, brushing at his pants.
“What are you doing here, priestess?” he growled, making me blink in confusion, until I remembered that I wasn’t Yumeko right now, I was Reika. “Did you come all this way to lecture me on the evils of drinking and gambling halls?”
“No, Okame-san.” I shook my head. “You disappeared from the castle, you and Daisuke-san both. We…erm…Yumeko and I were worried about you.”
“I had to clear my head,” Okame gruffed. “Sitting around that castle was making me jumpy. Getting drunk and losing a lot of money has always worked in the past.” He scowled back at the doors. “Except the nights you hit on an extremely lucky streak and the brutes who run the hall accuse you of cheating. Those were the house dice I was using, you cheap bastards!” he snarled at the two large men, who glowered back stonily. The ronin snorted and nearly fell over, the rancid-sweet smell of sake wafting around him, stronger than usual. “Kuso. Still partly sober. Now I’m going to have to