Jiro at the Hayate shrine to discover the location of the Steel Feather temple. When I was finished, Okame gave me a shrewd look, as if something I said didn’t quite make sense.
“So, a horde of demons attacks your temple, at the same time Kage-san with the demonslaying sword shows up,” he mused. “That sounds very convenient. I assume he wasn’t there to admire the leaves.”
“I don’t think Tatsumi is one for leaf watching, Okame-san.”
“Right.” Okame sighed. “So, what’s so special about this scroll, that the Kage demonslayer and an entire hoard of Jigoku abominations would show up to claim it?”
“I... I don’t know,” I stammered. “Master Isao never told me why it was important.”
Guilt prickled. I felt bad for lying, but it was probably better that the ronin know as little about the scroll as possible. The last thing I needed was someone else who wanted to summon the Dragon. Too many knew about it already.
“Huh.” Okame crossed his arms, his expression unusually grim. “So, your Master Isao sent this scroll away, presumably to another temple, and Kage-san just decided to escort you there, hmm?”
“No, not really. I asked him to.”
“And he agreed. The antisocial, don’t-bother-me-or-I’ll-kill-you Shadow Clan samurai agreed to escort a peasant girl across several territories to a mysterious temple hidden somewhere on the other side of the country.”
“Um. Yes?”
The ronin shook his head and bent closer, lowering his voice. “You don’t see what’s going on, do you?” he muttered. “He’s not taking you to the temple out of the kindness of his heart. He wants the scroll, Yumeko-chan.”
“Of course he does. Everyone wants the scroll, Okame-san.” I could feel the lacquered case again, pressed into my skin under the furoshiki and had to force myself not to touch the spot where it was hidden. “But I promised Master Isao that I would warn the Steel Feather temple about the demon attack, and I don’t think I could make it there on my own, especially if there’s a blood mage after us. You’ve seen how Tatsumi fights. His sword was created to kill demons. He’s my best chance of reaching the temple alive.”
“And what happens when you get there, and he demands the scroll from the monks?”
“I’m...still working on that.”
He shook his head. “Well, good luck, Yumeko-chan. Personally, I don’t know what would be scarier—an oni or an angry Kage demonslayer. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I hoped so, as well.
* * *
The sun began to set while we were still several miles from the next town. As the shadows grew long and the first stars began to appear, I quickened my pace to walk alongside Tatsumi.
“It’s getting late, Tatsumi-san. Shouldn’t we be looking for a place to spend the night?”
“Sagimura isn’t far,” he answered. “If we don’t stop, we’ll reach it before the hour of the Boar.” He paused a moment, before adding, “I’d rather sleep in a village tonight than out in the open.”
I shivered. So, he felt it, too. The sensation of danger, of eyes on us wherever we went. In fact, the closer we drew to Sagimura, the more uneasy I felt. Not only that something was watching us, but that something was coming. Chasing us. Stalking us.
And if Tatsumi didn’t want to stay out in the open, then whatever was out there was something I did not want to meet.
The moon was a full silver disk overhead when the road took us over a bridge that spanned the Hotaru River. On the other side, over the distant rice paddies, I could just catch the glimmers of light that came from Sagimura. There was just one problem.
A stranger stood in the center of the bridge, the moonlight blazing down on him, a shining katana held loosely at his side.
23
The Demon on the Bridge
“Oni no Mikoto,” Yumeko whispered.
The swordsman waited for us in the center of the bridge, unmoving as a statue. I didn’t know what I was expecting of the Demon Prince, but it wasn’t the tall, almost elegant figure in front of us. He wore dark blue hakama trousers and sandals, but his chest was bare, lean muscles exposed to the moonlight. Long white hair, not uncommon in Taiyo lands, fell unbound past his waist. A white-and-red oni mask covered his face, its mouth split into a wide, tusk-bearing grin, curved horns spiking up from its forehead. His sword glimmered at his side, curved and lethal.
“Well, shit,” Okame muttered. “It really is Oni no Mikoto, or someone doing their damndest