Page 28 of Shadow of the Fox

“Well, if we run into any more sickle weasels, I was thinking we could give them something to make them not attack us.” She cocked her head at me. “You know a lot about demons and yokai. What do they like? Do they like fried tofu? I’m very fond of fried tofu.”

“I don’t know what they like.”

She sighed. “Maybe I’ll try tossing them a rice ball.”

No one has ever showed you any kindness before, have they?

I shook myself as her words from last night echoed in my head, haunting me. Kindness? Kindness was a vulnerability, a luxury given those who did not hunt demons. To be kind, you had to drop your guard, something I could not afford, especially with Hakaimono poised to take advantage of the smallest distraction. My various sensei—the men and women who trained me—knew that. I was a weapon to the clan, nothing more. Kindness had no place in my life.

As we left Chochin Machi and continued our journey toward the capital, I spotted a single crow perched on a lantern string over the street. I wondered if my mysterious observer and the attack on Yumeko were related, and if they were, I wondered when and where the person behind them would try again.

I’d be ready if they did.

By the time the sun had fully risen, we had left Chochin Machi far behind and were following the Hotaru River as it wound north toward the capital. After several miles, the flat fields and grassy farmland became hillier, and the path diverged from the riverbanks, heading into the mountains.

As we approached the forest, Yumeko suddenly stopped, her attention drawn to an old wooden signpost staked into the ground.

“Entering Kiba-sama’s forest,” she read slowly, as the sign was cracked and faded, the words nearly worn away. “Tread softly. Beware of Kiba-sama.” Blinking, she looked at me. “Oh, he sounds very dangerous. Who is Kiba-sama? Do you know, Tatsumi?”

I did. My training required me to know the stories and legends of all demons, yokai and spirits that existed throughout the land. “Kiba-sama,” I explained, “is the name the locals gave to an onikuma, a great demon bear that makes his home in this forest. The stories say Kiba-sama stands taller than two men, and that he is so large, he can pick up horses with one paw and carry them back to his lair to devour.”

Her eyes widened, and she glanced at the edge of the trees. “How exciting. But he doesn’t seem very pleasant. What if we run into him?”

“It’s unlikely that we will. No one has seen Kiba-sama in a long time, close to twenty years. But we should walk softly.” I gazed at the sign again. “The tales claim that, deep in these woods, there is a cave where animals never venture and birds never sing in the surrounding trees. Kiba-sama sleeps there still, and has been slumbering for the past two decades. So when you walk through his forest, tread softly, lest you wake the great demon bear of Suimin Mori, who will be ravenous after twenty years of hibernation.”

“Ah.” Yumeko looked at the forest again and nodded. “Tread softly. I can do that. The leaves won’t even know they’re being stepped on.”

The trees closed around us as we entered the woods, large pines and redwoods whose branches shut out the sky, making the forest floor dim and cool. We followed the trail over moss-covered rocks and fallen trees, between the trunks of ancient giants, and through patches of forest where the sunlight never touched the ground. The woods were unnaturally still; as the legend promised, no birds sang in the trees, no insects droned, no deer or small animals moved through the undergrowth. An ominous taint hung in the air, a subtle aura of fear that was enough to silence the whole forest.

We came to a ravine, a gap in the earth that dropped sharply away to a nearly dry riverbed, far below. A bridge made of rope and wooden planks spanned the gulf, swaying gently in the open air. A tiny roadside shrine to Doroshin, the Kami of roads and travel, sat next to one of the bridge posts, the base littered with offerings of coin and withered flowers. As Yumeko walked to the edge of the cliff and peered down, I placed a copper kaeru at the base of the shrine, then closed my eyes and put my hands together, offering a quick prayer to Doroshin for safe travels. I wasn’t certain that the gods would hear the prayer of a lowly assassin, especially one whose hands were stained with blood and filth, but it was always better to be cautious. Better that the Kami ignored you than risk their wrath and bad fortune.

Opening my eyes, I was surprised to see Yumeko standing beside me, hands pressed together and eyes closed. Lowering her arms, she stepped back and turned to me with a smile.

“I used to pray to Doroshin every night,” she explained, with a quick glance at the shrine. “I always dreamed of traveling, of leaving the temple and seeing what’s out there, even though it was frightening. I would ask Doroshin to show me a way.” She sighed, her gaze traveling to the bridge and what lay beyond.

Her eyes darkened, a shadow falling over her face, but she blinked and shook herself, and returned to normal. “This is not how I wanted it to happen,” she murmured, “but I’m here, on the open road, like I asked. I figured I would at least thank him, just in case.” Looking at me again, she tilted her head, regarding me curiously. “I didn’t think you would be the type to pray, Tatsumi-san.”

“The Kami see everyone,” I replied simply. “I’m not exempt from their notice, and I carry a sword named Godslayer. Whenever possible, I try not to offend them.”

We started across the bridge. The weathered planks creaked under our weight, rocking back and forth as we walked over empty space. Below us, a steady wind howled through the ravine, making the bridge sway in the breeze, but the ropes were thick and strong, and in no danger of snapping.

However, when we were halfway across the chasm, a sudden gust of wind caused the planks to buck wildly. I dropped my weight, bending my knees to keep my balance, as Yumeko yelped and grabbed the railings tightly. As the wind died down and the bridge stopped moving, high-pitched laughter echoed over the ravine, and I jerked my gaze to the cliff.

A woman stood on the other side of the bridge, blocking our path. She was tall and slender, with long black hair, and she wore wooden geta clogs and a blue-and-white kimono that did little to hide her body. Ice-blue eyes glittered coldly as she watched us from the edge of the ravine.

I sank into a crouch, my hand dropping to the hilt of my sword, as Kamigoroshi flared with excitement. The woman smiled.

“The fearsome Kage demonslayer,” she called, still smiling. “Bearer of the infamous Kamigoroshi. Your reputations precede you both. Allow me to introduce myself.” She gave a shallow, mocking bow. “My name is Mistress Kazekira, wind witch of the Howling Mountains, and I have been waiting for you.”

A wind witch. So, the kamaitachi were probably her familiars. That meant the attack on Yumeko wasn’t a random occurrence, but a threat or a warning aimed at me.

I took a step toward the witch, tightening my fingers around the hilt of my blade. “If you know who I am, you know what will happen if you fight me here,” I warned. “Leave this place, before I cut a path right through you.”

The witch laughed. “Well, that’s not very polite, Kage-san,” she said, her voice echoing over the chasm. “Threatening a person you just met, and a woman at that. How unforgivably rude. Didn’t your people teach you any manners?”

Wind began swirling around the witch, causing her sleeves to flap and her hair to stream behind her. Yumeko gasped, grabbing the ropes for balance, as the bridge swayed dangerously from side to side. I kept my feet, adjusting my weight to balance on the rocking planks, as the bridge shuddered and bounced like a ship at sea.

The wind witch rose into the air, robes flapping wildly in the gale, and grinned down at us. “No, I would be a fool to pick a fight with the Kage demonslayer. I can’t stand the sight of blood. But I’m afraid I can’t let you go any farther.” Raising an arm, she snapped her fingers, and the wind around her surged even faster. “Kamaitachi, heed my words! Cut the ropes, and let us see if they can fly.”

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