“Calm down,” he muttered. “I can’t think.”
“W-what?”
“I’m trying to remember something.” He sighed. “That mark reminds me of … I’m not sure.”
She blinked, her heart slowing.
He brought his head up and his lazy grin took her by surprise. “You didn’t think being the kamigakari would get you out of our bargain, did you?”
“I … I didn’t … Don’t you want to kill me?”
“Well, your ki is …” He dipped his face down and brushed his nose along her jaw, inhaling slowly. Her stomach dropped. “Mouthwatering, but no, I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Oh … so you just want to eat me like the crow yokai does.”
“Not like the karasu,” he murmured, his deep tones singing along her nerves. “You never said why you’re dressed like this.”
“I—” She struggled to put words together, distracted by his warm body against hers and his breath on her ear. “I was supposed to meet with the Guji of Shion but I ran away.”
His head came up and she immediately regretted speaking. “You ran away? I assumed Yumei brought you.”
“No, I came here myself.”
“Did you?” His head tilted. “Why?”
She knew he was really asking why she would do something so stupid and dangerous.
“Because they were going to lock me away in Shion until the solstice. I wouldn’t have had the chance to …”
“To what?”
“We made a bargain,” she whispered. “If they’d locked me away, you would’ve been stuck in the onenju forever.”
He stared at her, strange shadows moving in his ruby eyes. The way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.
Then his eyebrows rose and his sly, crooked smile returned. He tapped one finger against her cheek, bringing her attention back to the fact that he was lying on top of her.
“So am I corrupting the kamigakari’s divine purity with my foul yokai touch?”
“I don’t care,” she answered without thinking.
“Do you not?” His voice dropped, that purring note creeping back in. His finger slid over her cheek in a featherlight touch. “Do you want me to move?”
She stared into his eyes, captured, imprisoned, immobilized. Did she? Yes. She should answer yes. She should make him move. Her heart pounded and slow heat rolled through her, part of it emanating from his warm weight on top of her, part of it sparking from within her. Yes was the correct answer, the only answer.
But the word wouldn’t come. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
He leaned down. His mouth hovered above hers, so close. Her lips parted as she watched his pupils dilate. Her eyes closed and she surrendered to whatever would happen next.
His warm breath brushed over her skin, and then his lips lightly grazed hers.
The floor rumbled beneath them.
Shiro’s head shot up. The tree vibrated violently and alien magic twisted through the air like a swirling, icy breeze. Shiro was on his feet in the next instant, wary tension lining his stance.
“Shiro, what is it?” Emi asked, scrambling up and righting the front of her kimono.
“Tsuchi is angry … or Yumei is. I’m not sure which.” His gaze flashed around the room as the floor stopped vibrating, but magic still sparked in the air. “Neither is good.”
He strode to the haphazard collection of items stacked along the wall and grabbed a folded square of black material. He shook it out, revealing a finely woven kosode, and pulled it on as he strode toward the doorway.
“Stay here,” he said over his shoulder.
“No, wait!”
He had already disappeared into the darkness within the threshold. Before she could think about how stupid it was, she threw herself into the black oblivion after him. The cool, sizzling magic enveloped her for a single heartbeat, tasting her skin, her soul—then forcefully shoved her back into her own realm.
Cold air hit her face as a thousand screaming voices assaulted her ears. She flew out of the doorway, arms flailing, and crashed into Shiro. He grabbed her before she could plummet off the tree branch. She cringed against him, her head turning wildly in every direction.
The branches of the great oak tree twined all around them, filled with crows—and every single bird was screaming in unmistakable fury.
Chapter 22
The horde of enraged crows shrieked ceaselessly, beating their wings at the air, black eyes glaring in the darkness.
“What’s happening?” she yelled over the awful racket.
Shiro, his ears pressed flat against his head to block out the sound, clamped an arm around her middle and sprang off the branch. She gasped as they plunged toward the ground before he landed on another bough. He hopped from branch to branch, then sprang off the lowest one and landed in the snow.
All at once, the crows went silent. Her ears rang in the sudden quiet.
Magic coiled and eddied over the ground, sliding over her skin like frozen claws—colder, deeper, more potent than anything she’d ever felt. The air dragged at her lungs, uncomfortably thick.
Shiro stepped in front of her, tension radiating off him. “Stay behind me—and don’t move unless I tell you to.”
She opened her mouth to ask what was happening, when the magic in the air went from a quiet, icy sizzle to an electric blizzard. She grabbed the back of Shiro’s kosode and huddled behind him.
Red light flickered in the sky. In a surge of magic, a huge winged shadow plunged through the trees. Ebony wings that weren’t entirely solid and trailed ribbons of red magic flared wide, and the monstrous bird landed in the snow before them.
Emi pressed against Shiro, too petrified to move. The immense raven towered over them. It looked like Yumei … except much, much bigger.
The twining ribbons of red magic formed strange designs and runes as they rippled behind him, mixing with the living shadows that shivered across his form. His ki seethed all around them, scraping across Emi’s senses until she wanted to scream.
“What’s going on, Yumei?” Shiro asked, as calm as if he were inquiring about the weather.
The raven’s silver eyes flashed with bright rage.
“They are killing my crows.” Though his beak didn’t move, his growling voice echoed strangely through the trees. Ancient power and an arctic fury coated each word and she realized she had never appreciated, never even grasped, just how old—or how powerful—the Tengu was.
“Who’s killing them?”
How could Shiro sound so unruffled in the face of the massive raven’s primordial wrath?
“Kami. Kami who dare to invade my forest and kill my karasu.”
Shiro inhaled sharply. “What are kami doing here?”
“I care not. I will destroy them.” The raven’s silver eyes burned with power. “Tsuchi is not safe. Take the kamigakari to her shrine and wait.”
The crows, who had been mute since their master’s arrival, erupted in a new chorus of furious screams. The Tengu’s wings snapped open, magic surging through the atmosphere like invisible lightning. The raven launched skyward, vast wings beating the air and sending snow flying in every direction. Hundreds of crows sprang from their perches, shadowy magic coating their wings as they rushed after the Tengu.
Shiro grabbed her wrist and crouched, pulling her against his back. She clamped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he stood. Without glancing back at the great oak tree, he sprang into motion, his bounding run carrying them swiftly away.
“Shiro, we can’t go back to the shrine,” she gasped. “The Guji is there. They’ll try to kill you and—”
“It’s safer than here,” Shiro interrupted tersely, sounding far less composed than he’d been when speaking to the Tengu. “We don’t want to be anywhere near here when Yumei starts killing kami.”
She tightened her hands around fistfuls of his kosode.
“The Tengu has been the guardian of these mountains for a thous
and years,” he growled. “Those kami are fools to invade his land. It would take an Amatsukami to defeat him in his own territory.”
“But why are there kami here at all?”
“I suspect your pal Koyane isn’t done hunting you.”
Her eyes widened. Koyane was still trying to kill her? Why?
The silent forest held no answers. She and Shiro were the only signs of life among the unmoving trees. All animals, all birds, all yokai had vanished. Could they feel the Tengu’s gathering power and rage? She wished she could also take shelter before the storm erupted.
Shiro ran with determination, occasionally slowing to a jog to catch his breath before speeding up again. The air was too cold, too electric. She didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but she could feel hostility emanating from the trees, from the ground.
With each mile, the shrine loomed closer in her mind. She couldn’t go back yet, not until she took Shiro’s beads off. She couldn’t let anyone at the shrine so much as glimpse him; they would try to kill him no matter what she said. She would have to protect him. Would Amaterasu help her?
Shiro’s run eventually slowed to a trot. The painful chill in the air and Tsuchi’s hostile anger, which had been simmering across her skin, had mostly faded away.
“How far is the shrine?” she asked as Shiro loosened his arms so she could slide off his back. “The Guji probably has sohei searching the woods for me.”
“If there are humans out here, they’re already dead.”
A chill rushed over her as Katsuo’s face flashed in her mind. Surely Ishida wouldn’t trust Katsuo to search for her. He was still safe at the shrine. He had to be.
A wintry breeze rushed over them, stirring Emi’s hair and tugging at her kimono. Shiro’s head rose, his ears swiveling. He yanked her into his arms and took off at full speed—in the wrong direction.
As he bounded away, she saw what he was fleeing: a man standing in the trees.
The man wore sohei robes and held an unsheathed sword in his hand, but his face was too beautiful to be entirely human; his features were as impossibly radiant as Koyane’s. As their eyes met, the kami smiled at her. Then he vanished among the trees, making no move to follow as Shiro carried her away.
“Where in the pits of Yomi are they coming from?” Shiro snarled, clutching her to his chest as he turned toward the shrine again. “Can your Guji protect you?”
“I—I’m not sure. Maybe—”
He suddenly dug his feet in and skidded through the snow in a desperate attempt to stop. Ahead of them, a shimenawa rope wrapped in ofuda was strung between the trees at waist height. Unable to stop, Shiro sprang over it. He landed on the other side—and slid straight into a second rope at chest level.
The shimenawa broke free from the trees and snapped around them like a constricting snake. They crashed to the ground, bound together as the ropes tightened and lit with power. Paralyzing magic encased her until all she could do was twitch helplessly. They rolled to a stop, her half on top of Shiro, who was equally trapped by the binding.
She struggled, barely able to breathe as magic pierced her like fiery needles. Was this how yokai felt when an ofuda bound them? Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her mind inward, searching for the warm kami ki that slept within. Heat rose through her, clashing with the magic of the shimenawa. Her shaking muscles convulsed. Forcing every inch of movement, she dragged her hand to the nearest length of rope and wrapped her fingers around it.
“Shukusei no tama,” she gasped.
Her ki surged into the rope, purifying and destroying the spell.
The shimenawa went slack. Shiro gasped in a breath and she had a second to wonder whether the spell had been strangling him before he lurched up, pulling her with him.
Shadows moved in the trees.
The kami she’d seen in the woods appeared from the darkness. She backed away from him and bumped into Shiro. Instead of retreating, he spun around, fire sparking around him. She glimpsed three more inhuman sohei emerging from the trees behind them.
The first kami smiled at her for a second time. He raised a hand toward her and before she could react, bright light flashed in his palm.
White filled her vision as blinding agony tore through her. Electric power scorched her bones and turned her muscles into trembling jelly. The world disappeared from her senses and the only thing that felt real was the strange pulsing heat in her chest.
She felt herself falling, and she was utterly helpless to stop it.
Bright light shone through her eyelids.
Her thoughts gradually regained some coherency. How long had she been unconscious? Minutes, hours? She recalled a vague impression of jumbled voices, of being moved and carried, but the torment of the kami’s magic hazed her memories. She’d been helpless, paralyzed in mind and body.
The pain was gone. The pulsing heat in her chest had faded. She felt cold and numb, and silence surrounded her.
She cracked her eyes open and squinted at the brightness. Her cheek was resting on wooden floorboards, and drawn upon them were complex shapes and symbols. With effort, she lifted her head. She was sprawled in the middle of a brightly glowing marugata.
A few feet away from the circle, Shiro stood, unmoving. Three kami waited in a circle around him, each holding a sword with a glowing blade, the points hovering at his throat.
Four walls surrounded them, the room empty. As she fought to raise her torso off the floor, she noticed the open doors at the end of the room. Beyond them, within a much smaller room, a beautifully carved shrine stood, its wood gleaming in the light of the marugata. But the pedestal was empty, and on the floor all around it were the shards of a shattered mirror.
They were inside the hall of worship of the Shirayuri Shrine, and the shards of the mirror were all that remained of Amaterasu’s shintai, the object through which she would have channeled her power and spirit into the shrine.
As Emi pushed herself up on one elbow, her hand rose to her chest. The kamigakari mark was cold and lifeless, her connection with Amaterasu blocked. By the marugata? She met Shiro’s blazing ruby stare.
His eyes shifted to the kami in front of him.
Fire exploded off him. Kitsunebi flashed out from him faster than she could follow and blasted the three kami in their chests. They fell backward with smoking holes in their torsos. Shiro spun and lunged toward the circle, a hand outstretched toward her.
For a single breathless moment, she thought they might escape.
Power rushed into the room like a gust of wind. The floor buckled upward beneath Shiro’s feet and he sprang into the air like a startled cat. The floorboards split open.
Writhing black snakes shot out of the hole. They caught Shiro in the air and twisted over him like thick tentacles, constricting around him. He grabbed one as it slid around his neck and strained to keep it from crushing his throat.
Not snakes, she realized as she struggled in vain to rise and help him. Roots. Dark tree roots were winding around him.
“Kimura Emi.”
The quiet female voice cut through her, the impossible, overwhelming power of it driving her into the floor.
A woman stood in the open doorway, the shattered shintai behind her. Her kimono was the finest black silk, embroidered with shimmering gold thread in the form of a dragon coiling up her side. A matching gold obi wrapped her slim waist. Her face was beyond beautiful, radiant with an otherworldly presence, and her lustrous black hair fell almost to the floor, bound two-thirds of the way down by a golden tie. Eyes black as the night sky gazed at Emi from that stunning but somehow lifeless face.
Behind and to the left of the woman, Koyane stood with his hands tucked in the opposite sleeves of his brown kimono. Seeing Emi’s terrified stare, he smiled.
With agonizing effort, she pushed onto her knees, but she didn’t have the strength to stand. Her whole body throbbed with painful numbness. A few steps away, Shiro fought to hold the root that threatened to choke him, trapped in the
deadly tangle. Spots of fire flickered and glowed on the floor from his previous attack but he didn’t summon another fiery blast. Did he know an attack would be futile, or was his ki being smothered by the overwhelming kami power filling the room?
She suspected the latter as the air grew heavy and difficult to breathe. The otherworldly woman was not just a kami.
She could only be Izanami, the Amatsukami of the Earth.
The woman glided into the room, her vassal Koyane following. She came to stand before the edge of the circle and studied Emi’s face, not even glancing at the dead kami on the floor.
“The kamigakari of Amaterasu,” Koyane said smugly to his master, “as promised.”
“Do not gloat, Koyane,” Izanami replied, her voice soft but so, so cold. “Only by mere chance will your error be remedied.”
Koyane’s jaw clenched before he smoothed his expression. The Amatsukami turned from Emi to Shiro. Her gaze travelled over him from head to feet and back again.
“So it is you,” she said, seeming to sigh as she moved closer. “I suspected when Koyane spoke of a kitsune, but I had hoped you were gone forever.”
“That’s friendly,” Shiro grunted, pulling at the root around his neck.
“Can you not free yourself? How far you have fallen from what you once were.” The words sounded almost sad. She reached up and touched the onenju on his arm with one finger. “The kamigakari has been meddling, I see. I will rectify that.”
She moved her finger to his chest and rested it lightly on his kosode. Light glowed beneath her fingertip. “It was necessary, you understand. We all must do as duty commands. Though your loyalty to your lord was honorable, I could not allow you to interfere.”
Shiro bared his teeth at her and the red markings on his face glowed. The air sizzled, but before he could do anything else, her finger moved swiftly over his chest, drawing a strange pattern above his heart. Bright light flashed and Shiro arched within the roots’ hold, a strangled sound escaping his throat. He went limp, hanging lifelessly.
“Shiro!” Emi cried and tried to lunge up, only to collapse back onto her knees, trembling with weakness. “What did you do to him?”