Page 42 of Shadow of the Fox

But when the trail abruptly ended at a small mountain stream, Okame stopped and crossed his arms, gazing down at it like he expected a new path to appear.

“Well, that’s strange,” he muttered, gazing up and down the stream. “I don’t remember this being here.”

“You’re lost,” Tatsumi stated, his voice cold enough to make the creek ice over.

“I am not lost,” Okame protested, glaring back at him. “I’m...momentarily confused that there’s a stream here, but that is a temporary setback. I know exactly where we are.” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning in thought. Across the stream, a small spotted deer stepped daintily from behind a tree and stared at us, twitching large ears. “We must’ve missed the side trail,” Okame mused, “but if we head north, we should find it. So...” He gazed around the forest, and the deer bounded into the undergrowth. “If that’s the position of the sun, and the shadows are going in that direction...”

“Um.” I pointed a finger upstream. “North is that way, Okame-san.”

“Right.” Okame grinned back at me. “Back on track, Yumeko-chan. We’ll be in Kin Heigen Toshi in no time.”

Several hours later, with the sun beginning to set behind the distant peaks and the fireflies starting to wink through the branches, Okame stopped and leaned against a moss-covered boulder, shaking his head.

“Okay,” he said cheerfully, and raised both hands in a hopeless gesture. “Nowwe’re lost.”

Tatsumi’s sword rasped free with a chilling screech. Okame instantly sprang off the boulder and darted behind it as I spun, putting myself between the ronin and the demonslayer.

“Tatsumi, no.” I held up my hands as his cold violet gaze slid past me, flat and murderous. “Killing him won’t help anything.”

“It will rectify the mistake I made earlier,” Tatsumi said, his eyes narrowed to purple slits.

“But it won’t help anything now,” I insisted. His gaze shifted to me, and my heart pounded under that lethal killer’s stare. Kamigoroshi glowed faintly in the shadows, throwing off a sickly luminance that pulsed like a heartbeat. Nothing like the ghastly purple flames I’d seen the night I met Tatsumi, but disquieting all the same. Just being this close to the unsheathed Kamigoroshi made my skin crawl, but I stood my ground. “Tatsumi-san, it’s done. We’re lost. Let’s just try to find the way back and get to the capital without bloodshed.”

“And the fact that he’s pointing an arrow at your back means nothing to you?”

“I’m not aiming at her,” came Okame’s voice behind the rock. “I’m pointing it at the guy with the scary glowing sword. If she would take one step to the right, I’d appreciate it.”

A cold smile curled one side of Tatsumi’s mouth. “You think you’re fast enough to shoot me down, ronin?”

“Well, if the other choice is stand here and smile while you cut me in half, I’ll take my chances,” Okame shot back. I spared a split-second glance at the ronin and saw a dangerous smirk stretching his own mouth, his eyes hard and defiant. “I’m no noble. I’m not offering you my head because I made a mistake. You want it, you’ll have to take it the old-fashioned way.”

“No one is taking anyone’s head,” I argued. “That would just be messy and disgusting. Let’s just try to find the way out of the mountains. It’ll be dark soon, and...” I paused, pricking my ears forward, though that went unseen by the two humans. Down the slope, in a small bowl between the mountains, I could see a few faint, glimmering lights. “Wait a minute. I think there’s a village down there.”

The two humans straightened and turned to peer into the valley, as well. “Oh,thereit is,” Okame said, sounding satisfied. “I knew it was around here somewhere.” He ignored Tatsumi’s dark glare and loosened the bow, sticking the arrow back in his quiver. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

We started down the slope, but it was steep and treacherous, the stones covered in slick moss, forcing you to watch where you put your feet. It was slow going, but I had played this game with the monkeys in the forest, and skipped from rock to rock, landing as lightly as I could before continuing on. Okame slipped once, skinning his hands on a boulder and letting loose an impressive string of profanity. Tatsumi, of course, was as graceful as a deer, stepping calmly from boulder to boulder, making it look like he did this every day.

By the time we reached the edge of the valley, the sun had set behind the mountain peaks and the shadows had grown long. We crossed a bridge over a tiny stream, and followed a winding dirt path toward a cluster of thatched huts scattered in the distance. The air in the valley was thick and humid; cicadas buzzed in the trees and fireflies blinked over the rice paddies, their lights reflected in the dark, muddy water. Tiny rice seedlings had been planted in neat rows through each of the terraced fields, and would soon grow into a waving sea of green. Along the banks of the slow-moving river, I could see nets hanging in the sun to dry, and tiny fishing boats docked along the shore. The sunlight glimmered off the water, and the entire valley had a lazy, isolated feel to it, like it had been forgotten by the rest of the world.

Past the rice fields, the winding trail intersected with a larger, wider road cutting straight through the village. A sign had been erected at the crossroads, handmade and hand painted, kanji scrawled down the board in stark black ink.You have arrived in Yamatori, the signpost announced.Travelers always welcome.

“Well, that’s friendly,” Okame said. “It’s a good sign, at least. Some of these little hamlets have a very unfavorable attitude toward visitors. They don’t like travelers, they don’t like samurai and they especially don’t like ronin.”

“Why?” I wondered.

“Because ronin tend to take what they want,” Tatsumi answered flatly. “And the farmers can’t do anything about it.”

“Hey, samurai aren’t any better,” Okame returned, glaring at him. “You think they all follow that code of Bushido nonsense?” He sneered. “I’ve seen samurai take another man’s wife and kill the husband for daring to protest. I’ve seen one cut off a kid’s head for startling his horse. I might be a dirty ronin dog, but at least I don’t use the code as an excuse to do whatever the hell I want.”

“Whatever I want?” Tatsumi’s voice was soft, and he shook his head, almost in pity. “One who has no honor,” he stated, “will never understand the actions of those who do.”

“Says the man with the creepy glowing sword.”

“That has nothing to do with anything.”

“Right, because scary glowing swords are always used for the purest intent.”

“There are more?” I blinked. “I’ve only ever seen one scary glowing sword, Okame-san,” I said. “Are they very common?”

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