Page 50 of Shadow of the Fox

“I...suppose you have a good point. Much as it pains me to admit it.” Okame crossed his arms with a sigh. “Fine. I don’t like the idea, but I know as much about magic as I do flower arranging. I’ll stay back here, put an arrow through the skull of any gaki that gets too close. Yumeko-chan...” He nodded at me, smiling. “Good luck. Don’t get eaten—you were just starting to make my life interesting.”

“You be careful, too,” I told him, and turned to the samurai. “All right, Tatsumi. I’m ready. What do I have to do?”

He hesitated once more, then held out a hand, palm turned up. “We have to stay connected,” he told me, and, for some strange reason, my stomach fluttered like a swarm of moths were set loose within. “The spell will cover both of us, but it isn’t meant to be used on a group. If we get separated, the gaki will be able to see you, so don’t let go, no matter what.”

I nodded, took a quiet breath and placed my hand in his. His palm was rough with calluses, but the fingers curling over mine were long and slender, almost elegant. My heartbeat quickened, and the moths in my belly swirled even more frantically before settling into an agitated fluttering.

Tatsumi had gone perfectly still, staring at our clasped hands, as if fighting his instincts to pull away. I peeked at his face and saw a flicker of emotion in those purple eyes, a hint of uncertainty and the barest shadow of fear. But only for a moment; then his expression shut down, that icy mask dropping into place. Bringing two fingers to his face with his other hand, he half closed his eyes and murmured a chant using words I didn’t understand.

A whisper of power went through the air, centered on Tatsumi. It swirled around us, cold and caressing, seeming to muffle sound and make the shadows around us even darker. Somewhere off to the side, Okame uttered a breathless curse. I suddenly felt very strange, as if my body wasn’t quite solid, and the moonlight blazing down overhead was passing right through me.

Tatsumi opened his eyes. The glimmering violet orbs peered down at me, but I could not see my reflection within. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “Remember, stay close, keep your eyes off the gaki and don’t let go of my hand. Are you ready?”

I nodded, tightening my fingers around his. He turned, and together, we walked down the narrow winding path into the cemetery.

Several ancient trees grew among the gravestones, towering cedar and looming pine. As soon as we reached the edge of the cemetery, Tatsumi broke away from the path and slipped into the shadows thrown by the giants. Gaki shambled among the gravestones; I kept my head down but saw them in my peripheral vision, their naked, bloated bodies shining grotesquely in the moonlight. My heart pounded, but as Tatsumi had predicted, they paid us no more attention than the falling leaves, though a few passed frighteningly close. Once, Tatsumi pulled me roughly against a tree, pressing us both into the bark as a gaki lurched around the trunk, barely missing him. For a few heartbeats, it stood just a few feet away, raspy breaths hissing into the air, scanning the area as if it could sensesomethingwas close. I closed my fingers around my tanto and squeezed my eyes shut, not daring to move or even breathe. My heart pounded, and I pressed myself as far from Tatsumi as I could, hoping he wouldn’t feel the lacquered case tucked into my furoshiki. If he found the Dragon’s scroll now, a graveyard full of hungry ghosts would be the least of my concerns.

Finally, the gaki’s footsteps staggered away, and I felt Tatsumi relax. “Move,” he whispered to me, and we did, slipping away from the trunk and weaving our way past the gravestones.

As we ducked between two pine trees, something glinted in the corner of my eye, causing me to halt and grab Tatsumi’s sleeve.

“Tatsumi-san,” I whispered. “I think I see the monk. Over there.”

He followed my pointing finger. At the farthest end of the graveyard, a lone headstone stood in the shadow of three enormous cedars. A beam of moonlight slanted through the tree branches, illuminating the headstone and gleaming off a staff with metal rings at the top.

“The monk’s grave,” I whispered, as with a ghostly shimmer, a section of moonlight detached from the headstone and stepped into view. The yurei monk, in his straw hat and still holding his metal rod, met my gaze over the stones and raised an ethereal eyebrow.

“He sees us,” Tatsumi growled.

A piercing shriek made my blood run cold, and a gaki hurled itself over a headstone, jaws gaping like a rabid wolf. Tatsumi spun, Kamigoroshi clearing its sheath in an instant to strike the spindly body from the air. But his hand came free of my grip, and I felt the tearing of magic as the spell dissolved, like a stone hurled through a spiderweb. All through the cemetery, gaki were turning to look at us, eyes blazing bright with hunger, their hisses and shrieks rising into the air.

Tatsumi stepped forward, the cold purple light of Kamigoroshi washing over the stones, matching the chilling look in his eyes. “Go,” he told me, swinging the blade in front of him. “Talk to the monk. I’ll keep them off you for as long as I can.”

I looked up at the approaching gaki, torn between running toward the monk and pulling out my tanto to stand with Tatsumi. Fox magic flared, making my hands tingle, and I wondered if a ball of kitsune-bi to the face would slow the gaki down, even as it exposed my true nature.

As the first gaki drew close, something streaked through the air behind it, striking it in the back. With a shriek, it pitched forward, the shaft of an arrow protruding from its neck, and dissolved into green mist. Another jerked and went careening over a headstone, and a third crumpled to the dirt in a tangle of flailing limbs, before writhing into nothingness.

“Okame,” I breathed, sparing a quick glance at the top of the hill. I could just make out a lean figure silhouetted on the roof of the shack, just as another gaki screamed and tumbled into the weeds. Tatsumi waited patiently as the first wave drew close, his blade held loose at his side.

“Yumeko.” His voice was eerily calm, though I heard a ripple of something terrifying underneath, a barely restrained bloodlust that sent shivers up my spine. “Go.”

I went.

I darted between headstones and wove between the aisles of rock, searching for that ghostly shimmer of white. It waited for me in the shadow of the trees, standing patiently beside its grave, a bemused expression on its pale, glowing face. I dodged around a headstone to avoid a gaki and winced as its claws raked four white gashes into the rock. It scuttled around the grave, jaws gaping as it reached for me, when an arrow hissed through the air and struck the back of its neck. It dissolved with a chilling wail, and I hurried on.

Gasping, I stumbled past the last of the gravestones, darted around a tree, and was abruptly standing before a transparent figure in white.

“Well.” The monk’s voice was a shiver of an icy wind, the echo of a long-forgotten emotion. His face blurred in and out of reality, like a pebble dropped into the reflection of a pond. “This night has been full of surprises. Hello, little fox. What brings you to my lonely corner of the village?”

I drew in a breath, not surprised that he knew what I really was. He didn’t sound like an onryo, the terrible grudge spirit that Tatsumi had spoken of. His voice was calm, pleasant even, and maybe a little sad.

“Konbanwa, yurei-san,” I began, as a shriek rang out behind me in a flash of purple light. Tatsumi was keeping the gaki busy, as he’d promised. “Oh,” I went on anxiously, “is it proper to call you yurei-san? I haven’t spoken to any ghosts before this.”

His hazy features lowered into a frown, but he seemed more puzzled than angry. I hurried on in case he took offense. “Please, master monk,” I implored, clasping my hands together in a bow, “the people here have suffered greatly at the hands of their own loved ones. I’ve come to ask if you would lift the curse. You were dealt a terrible wrong all those years ago, but none of these people were responsible for your death. And it must be terribly boring, drifting around as a ghost. Surely your desire for vengeance has been satisfied by now.”

“Ah, little fox.” The ghost of the monk bowed his head. “I wish I could. It was never my intention to place such a powerful curse upon this village. I was...angry...back then. Though time for me blurs and runs together. I do not know how long it has been since I cursed this village’s greed and died with retribution on my lips. I wish only to move on, to complete my journey to Meido, or wherever my soul is destined.”

With chilling screams, several more gaki met their ends on Tatsumi’s sword. But ominous green lights were beginning to rise from several graves, slowly taking form as more hungry ghosts began to materialize. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but the yurei didn’t seem to notice.

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