Page 72 of Shadow of the Fox

Okame raised a skeptical eyebrow, but didn’t say anything else. Chu rose gracefully to his feet and trotted away, as if taking the lead, and we followed him across the yard and down the steps of the Hayate shrine. As we passed under the torii gate at the entrance, I noticed that both stone pedestals were empty.

“Oh, Yumeko-san, before I forget...” Daisuke turned to me, smiling, as we stepped onto the streets of the Wind district. “I spoke to one of my uncles about you,” he began, “and he was very interested that an onmyoji would be attending the party tonight.”

“Oh? That was nice. Your uncle sounds like a very kind man.”

“Yes, and he will be quite pleased to see you. You see, a few months ago, there was a terrible scandal surrounding the emperor’s last onmyoji—rumors of treason and blood magic, whispers of assassination. It was a horrible mess. In the end the onmyoji and his assistants were executed, but the position of court diviner has yet to be filled. My uncle thinks the emperor will be delighted to have an onmyoji tell his fortune.” Daisuke’s brilliant smile grew even wider, even as I realized what he was implying, and stifled the urge to pin back my ears in alarm. “If all goes well tonight, Yumeko-san, you might have an audience with the emperor of Iwagoto himself.”

* * *

Despite my nervousness, it was impossible not to be awed by the splendor of the Imperial Palace. Sitting atop its peak, the golden structure caught the last fading rays of light and glimmered like a miniature sun itself. As we drew closer, I caught glimpses of gilded roof ornaments: golden fish, dragons and phoenixes topped the sweeping corners, silhouetted against the sky and gazing down on us mere mortals, far below.

As we approached the enormous gates, I spotted a pair of samurai near the entrance, dressed in armor and holding their yari spears upright. I worried that they would step forward, angling those spears to block our path. But they didn’t move, though the older one did turn his head when Daisuke walked up, a grin curving his mouth below his moustache.

“Oh, Daisuke-sama,” he called in a gruff, almost affectionate voice. “When did you get back? How did your pilgrimage to Sagimura go?”

“Very well, Fujio-san,” Daisuke answered. “I am glad I took the time to travel. It was...very enlightening.”

Behind him, Okame snorted. “I’ll bet,” he muttered, and was swatted on the arm by Reika. The guard’s attention shifted to her and the other three shrine maidens.

“Ah,” he said, nodding once. “Entertainers for the emperor’s party, I presume. It has been a while since we have had a kagura dance at the palace.” His gaze fell on me, taking in my robes, my peaked cap, and his brows lifted. “Is that...an onmyoji, Daisuke-sama? Fortune does seem to favor you, doesn’t it? His Highness will be thrilled.”

Daisuke only smiled as we passed the guards and stepped through the gates of the Imperial Palace, but my heart, which had calmed down since we’d left the shrine, started pounding again. Through the gate was an enormous open courtyard with more samurai wandering about. Beyond that, over the tops of the trees and past what seemed like a labyrinth of walls, gates and parapets, the Imperial Palace loomed against the sky like a glittering golden mountain.

Without thinking, I started toward the distant palace, but paused when Daisuke called me back. Turning, I saw him and the others heading away from the castle, toward one of the gates on the far wall of the courtyard.

“We’re not going to the palace itself, Yumeko-san,” he explained, once he realized where I was walking. “The party is being held in the castle gardens, over there.” He gestured to the far wall, where a faint glow could be seen over a large and bushy tree line. “This way, if you would. We’re almost there.”

I felt a momentary twinge that I wouldn’t be seeing the golden palace up close, but it faded as I passed beneath the gate and entered the imperial gardens.

My first thought was that I had stepped into an extremely well-groomed forest. Upon further inspection, I realized even that was wrong. Every tree, every bush, rock, flower and pebble, seemed to have been placed with the utmost care and deliberation. All the bushes were trimmed into symmetrical shapes, all the trees standing straight and tall, their branches at perfect, orderly angles. Not a leaf or petal or scrap of bark lay on the grass or blew across the lawn; even as I watched, a man whom I could only assume was a groundskeeper paused at a chrysanthemum bush and plucked an offending flower from one of the branches before stuffing it into a bag and hurrying on.

It was a beautiful garden, I would admit, stunning and awe-inspiring. And about as lifeless as a sakura painting on a hanging wall scroll. There was no natural growth, none of the joyful chaos of a real forest. The emperor’s garden felt like I did at the moment, stuffed into an elegant but uncomfortable robe meant to impress everyone who saw it, wishing I could take it off and move around naturally.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Daisuke murmured, gazing around with a serene smile on his face. “Everything here is designed with such precision. The castle employs a hundred servants and fifty master gardeners to keep everything clean and perfect.”

“It is nice,” I agreed. “But it would be terribly difficult for anything to live here. The gardeners would have a nervous breakdown if a single rabbit got into the flowers.”

The path through the gardens was well lit by strings of chochin lanterns, and we followed the bobbing orange lights until we reached yet another gate where a stern-looking samurai eyed Okame and me before turning to the noble in front.

“Taiyo-sama,” he said with a bow. “Please forgive me, but the emperor’s party is by invitation only. I know your family is already within, but I don’t recognize your companions. I must ask that they show me their invitations, or I cannot allow them to pass.”

“I am allowing them,” Daisuke said easily. “This is Yumeko-san, a respected onmyoji from the Earth lands, and her yojimbo, Hino Okame. They are here as my guests.”

The samurai grunted, looking over Daisuke’s shoulder at me, before shifting his gaze to Reika and the two shrine maidens behind us. “And what about them?”

Reika and the others sank into a formal bow. “Please excuse us,” the miko said. “We are from the Hayate shrine, here to perform tonight’s kagura dance for the emperor.”

The guard frowned. “I didn’t hear anything about an onmyoji attending,” he said stubbornly, glaring at me again. “She’s awfully young. I’ve never heard of her, certainly. How do we know she’s experienced enough to see the emperor?” His jaw tightened, and he jerked his chin at me. “Who have you served before, girl? Which lords have you attended?”

“Excuse me,” said a voice, saving me a reply. A man came forward, thin and disheveled-looking, his clothes rumpled and his hair standing on end. He wasn’t a samurai or a noble; his clothes, though not as tattered and threadbare as some peasants, were quite plain. His robe was dusty, and he smelled of sawdust and wood shavings.

Seeing the newcomer, the samurai immediately stepped forward to block his path, momentarily forgetting about us. “Halt. How did you get in here? State your buisness, now.”

The man sniffed and drew himself up. “I’m looking for someone,” he said in a reedy yet confident voice. “I have permission to be here. I need to speak to the magistrate now.”

Daisuke brushed my arm. “Come,” he said softly, as the samurai stated again, in a louder voice, that the area was off-limits. The noble looked troubled, as if wanting to speak to the newcomer, but he continued to usher us away. “We do not need to be present for this, nor do I wish to shame a samurai who was only doing his job. Let us leave him to his duties and slip away quietly.”

Reluctantly, I turned from the man, who was now arguing with the guard in a high-pitched voice and waving his twig-like arms. The samurai didn’t even glance at us as we slipped through the gate and melted into the shadows beyond. Okame caught my gaze and grinned, but I couldn’t quite return it.

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