For a second time, she drew the string back to her cheek, summoning her ki to fill the arrow. The wind surged, gathering around the arrowhead.
Orochi’s heads reared back. All eight jaws opened and loosed deafening roars. Where the necks joined and sank into the ground, the earth heaved. Trees lifted and tumbled over, torn from their roots, and giant chunks of dirt spilled in every direction.
From beneath the ground, Orochi’s colossal body rose. The long, thick torso of earthy scales was utterly gargantuan, with short legs that looked grotesquely small in comparison. A single heavy tail ripped free from the earth, bowling over trees as it lashed side to side.
Orochi rose on its inadequate legs. Moving its mammoth body with that horrific cluster of heads was almost impossible, but it appeared the dragon no longer intended to remain immobile.
Yumei snapped his wings down, lifting them several more yards. “It seems he does not wish to endure another one of your arrows. Take aim again.”
Emi again pulled the string back to her cheek.
Orochi roared. The air around the dragon shimmered and vile, abrasive ki shuddered through the air. Its brown scales began to shimmer and glow. The heads writhed violently and a strange ripple ran over them.
Light flashed brightly, blinding her. She flinched back, the drawn bow wobbling in her hands. Spots danced across her vision as her sight returned.
Orochi’s cluster of heads had vanished. On the ground, where the dragon’s body had been, was a writhing mass of snake-like forms. As Emi watched in horror, the twisting knot pulled apart—separating into eight fully formed, independent dragons.
“What—?” she gasped, her aim wavering. “Did he—did you know he could do that?”
“I did not,” Yumei growled. “And Susano failed to mention it.”
Orochi was no longer one eight-headed dragon but eight one-headed dragons. With triumphant bellows, three of the eight serpentine creatures sprang off the ground. They rose with no apparent effort, undulating weightlessly through the air—directly toward her and Yumei.
Emi yanked the string back to her cheek and fired. The arrow blasted toward the lead dragon, but with shocking agility, it darted out of the arrow’s path. Orochi’s lack of maneuverability had been its only disadvantage, but these separate dragons clearly didn’t have that limitation. Though their combined mass didn’t come anywhere near that of their original form, they made up for their smaller size with speed—and “smaller” was entirely relative. They were still enormous.
Jaws opening wide in anticipation, the three dragons hurtled through the air toward them.
Yumei’s arm clamped tighter around her and he folded his wings. They dropped, plunging toward the forest. The dragons dove in pursuit as spectral crows swarmed them. Emi clutched her bow as the wind tore at her hair and clothes. Below, she caught a glimpse of the white tiger and a human-sized figure—Susano—moving in on the remaining five dragons.
The forest rushed to meet them. Yumei snapped his wings wide, catching the air, and he pulled out of the dive just before reaching the treetops. Even with the added speed of his dive, the undulating dragons were gaining on them, closing the gap fast.
“Do you have control of the wind?”
“W-what?” she stuttered, clutching his arm around her middle. “I—I’m not sure—”
“Try not to die.”
As the dragons closed in on them from above, Yumei released her.
She plummeted with a scream. The moment she left his grip, red and black light engulfed his body and expanded outward. Immense wings took form from the darkness. With red power rippling off his feathers, the great raven Tengu spun in the air and grabbed the nearest dragon in his massive talons.
Emi plunged through the treetops, branches snagging her clothes and hair. The wind gusted beneath her, slowing her fall, and she landed on her back with a painful thump. She rolled to her feet, clutching her bow in both hands. Dragons snarled and howled above the treetops as they battled the great raven.
Branches snapped loudly. She looked up as a dragon pushed its head through the tangled boughs of a nearby tree. Black eyes locked on her.
Emi’s body went cold. She yanked an arrow from her quiver and nocked it. The dragon pulled its head back, vanishing into the darkness. She stood with the arrow drawn, her legs trembling. In the sky, the furious battle continued and panic hammered at her with each passing second.
Releasing the tension on the bow, she turned and bolted. The wind rose again, dancing around her as it pushed her into an even faster sprint. In the trees behind her, foliage snapped and cracked as the large dragon pushed through the underbrush in pursuit.
Desperation and panic twined in her head. What was she supposed to do? Somewhere above, the great raven screamed furiously and a dragon roared. Yumei couldn’t help her—he was already fighting two dragons all on his own. She hadn’t seen Shiro since Orochi had dropped him. Susano and Byakko were battling the other five dragons, who were most likely guarding Murakumo.
There was no one to help her, and she couldn’t run forever.
She burst into a clearing, the ground blanketed in fallen leaves. Pain shuddered through her hands as she gripped her bow too tightly. She couldn’t hit the dragon because it was too fast. How did she slow it down? She was just a human! She didn’t have the power to fight a dragon!
Her breath caught. Sohei were just humans too and they had been battling—and defeating—powerful yokai for millennia. She’d been thinking only in terms of brute strength and magic, but those weren’t the only ways to fight a yokai.
She cast her hand toward the clearing. A violent gust rushed through it, sweeping away the fallen leaves to expose the dirt of the forest floor. Holding one end of her bow, she dug the other end into the ground. With her heart pounding, she closed her eyes and began to dance.
As she moved through the smooth choreography, Katsuo whispered in her memory. If you really want to bind a yokai, though, you’ll need a proper marugata. Do you know how to do the Five Blossoms of the Heavenly Garden dance for spring festivals? She didn’t know how to draw an exorcism circle, but the dance was ingrained in her, and as Katsuo had explained, part of the dance was drawing a simple marugata.
She sped through the steps at a pace that would have appalled her dance instructor, dragging the end of her bow through the dirt to carve first a circle, then the symbols that filled it. Power hummed in her blood as she moved and she could feel the growing magic like she never had before.
The sound of the dragon crashing through the woods drew nearer and louder.
Gasping, she drew the last line down the center.
The dragon barged through the trees, crushing several saplings beneath it. Emi darted across the circle, flailing her arms for balance as she hopped over the lines without stepping on them. Snarling, Orochi lunged after her.
She hurled herself out of the far side of the circle as the dragon’s maw gaped hungrily. Its front legs landed in the marugata.
Her simple lines in the dirt flashed white. The air crackled and the dragon froze in place, completely immobilized—or at least the part of it that had landed in the circle. Its massive form spanned the entire length of the clearing, and the marugata had only captured its front legs and most of its neck.
Off balance from her final wild leap, Emi tumbled to the ground. She rolled over as the dragon’s jaws snapped furiously, just beyond her feet. The back half of its body writhed madly and the white light of the marugata rippled in protest.
Shoving herself up, Emi backed away as she grabbed an arrow from her quiver and set it on the bow. The dragon snarled. She pulled the string back and aimed at its head only a few feet away.
With a shriek, a second dragon tore through the canopy above her head.
She whipped the bow up and fired as the dragon dropped down on top of her. Her arrow hit its lower jaw, blasting a chunk out of it. The beast slammed into her, crushing her into the ground. She gasped and flung out a han
d, slapping her palm against its rough scales.
“Shukusei no tama!”
White light flared under her hand and the dragon reared up with a furious snarl, but the purification spell did little more than irritate it. The wind whirled and howled around the dragon but it wasn’t strong enough to dislodge the beast. The gigantic jaws, capable of devouring her head and shoulders in one bite, opened wide, its long tongue glistening.
His head flashed down for the killing bite.
A torrent of fire ignited in the space between them. The dragon jerked back a second time as kitsunebi flared brightly all around Emi.
Shiro bounded out of the darkness, his fiery tails lashing behind him. He vaulted onto the dragon’s back and grabbed its mane, yanking its head backward. In his other hand, his katana blade lit with white fire, the metal glowing red-hot. He drove the full length of steel into the dragon’s throat. Fire erupted around the hilt and the dragon convulsed, flames from the sword pouring out of its mouth.
As the dragon collapsed, Shiro jumped free and landed beside her.
“Emi, are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” she gasped as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up. “Are you okay? Is your arm—?”
Blood smeared his hand and wrist but his arm was intact.
“He bit down on the onenju,” Shiro said tersely. “At least those accursed beads are good for something. We need to—”
The dragon trapped in her circle roared. With a crash, a third one dropped from the sky and bowled into the rear of the ensnared dragon. It tore free from the marugata and they tumbled over the ground before untangling.
Shiro grabbed her and dove to the side as the two dragons charged. Fire writhed around him and his kitsunebi gathered in a defensive wall. The dragons plunged through the flames and one of the heads shot for them. Shiro grabbed its upper and lower jaws in each hand, barely keeping hold of his sword. The dragon shoved him backward with horrific strength, tearing him away from Emi.
She fell, landing hard on her back. The dragon drove Shiro into a tree, trying to catch him in its jaws as he desperately held it at bay. Rolling to her feet, she grabbed an arrow and threw herself at the dragon’s head.
“Shukusei no tama!” she cried as she jammed the arrowhead into the dragon’s eye.
Power surged from the arrow. The dragon reared back with a howl, the arrow sticking out of its eye socket and black blood gushing down its scales.
“Emi!”
The second dragon filled her vision, fangs and gaping maw flashing toward her. She threw herself backward, already knowing it was too late.
Shiro grabbed her arm, yanking her away from the snapping jaws—but not fast enough.
Pain didn’t register, only crushing pressure as the jaws caught her body, curved teeth piercing her flesh. Her bones creaked and her ribcage threatened to collapse as the dragon lifted her into the air with a triumphant growl.
“Emi!”
Shiro’s frantic shout pierced her like a blade but she could do nothing more than hang in the dragon’s grip, immobilized by shock. Fire exploded all around them. She didn’t see what Shiro did, she was hardly aware of anything, but the next thing she knew, the dragon’s jaws released her.
Arms caught her and the world spun. She blinked blurrily and saw that Shiro had leaped into the center of her destroyed marugata. Fire erupted along the perimeter of her circle, etching a new line around them. With a hand coated in shining red blood, he touched the charred line and drew a strange symbol over it.
A shimmering dome of reddish light formed over them. The dragons lurched to a stop at the edge of the barrier.
“Emi,” Shiro said hoarsely, holding her against his chest. “You little fool.”
“You made a barrier,” she wheezed. She couldn’t breathe properly, even without the crushing jaws of the dragon around her. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did I.”
She started to look down, to see how bad it was, but his hand, wet with blood, caught her cheek. He pulled her head up, his ruby irises glowing faintly.
“Look at me, Emi,” he murmured.
As soon as her gaze found his, she knew she was dying—dying quickly. He held her close, cradling her in his arms, hiding his pain. But she could see it in the swirling, churning shadows in his eyes—anguish, rage, grief, guilt.
His throat moved as he swallowed. “Can you heal your injuries with Amaterasu’s magic?”
In answer to his question, warmth fluttered inside her, gathering in the kamigakari mark. Power rapidly built, channeled into her body by Amaterasu. The heat within her grew and faint white light radiated from her skin.
Beyond Shiro’s barrier, the waiting dragons paced impatiently—three dragons, not two. The one Shiro had burned had risen, its injuries already fading. It was regenerating. Could they not die? Despite their separate bodies, were they tied together, one life that couldn’t be extinguished by damaging pieces of the whole?
As Amaterasu’s power gathered in her, her stare returned to Shiro’s. Three dragons waited beyond his barrier, a protection that would not last long. Three enormous dragons that could not be killed. How could he defeat them? How could he possibly escape alive?
Heat pulsed through her. Amaterasu wasn’t descending to possess and heal Emi the way she had last time; Emi would have to somehow heal herself. The power waited for her command, growing ever stronger.
If Emi healed her injuries, she wouldn’t die this moment—but she would still die. And Shiro would die with her, because there was no way he could escape the three dragons and protect her at the same time. Healing herself would only delay her death by a few minutes.
Maybe Amaterasu wasn’t descending to heal her because healing wasn’t what this power was for.
He must not die or all hope will be lost.
Shiro … Inari … was crucial to stopping Izanami from opening the Bridge to Heaven. Emi was not. He had to survive, not her. Resolve hardened within her and she raised her hand, surprised to find it trembling, and pressed it over his hand where he held her cheek.
“I’m sorry, Shiro,” she whispered. “It’s my fault I couldn’t remove the onenju before.”
“What …?”
“I can’t remove the beads unless I genuinely want to do it. Yumei told us that the first time I met him, remember? I thought I did, but I …” Her throat closed and she swallowed hard, fighting the lightheaded dizziness sliding through her. “But I was afraid.”
His eyes widened.
She labored to get enough air to keep talking. “But I promised. I won’t fail you again.”
“Emi—”
She pulled his hand off her cheek and curled her fingers over the onenju’s bottom loop. Power throbbed in the cool beads, sparking against her skin. Understanding flared in his eyes as he realized what she intended to do.
Removing the beads was simple, really. So simple she couldn’t believe she’d been so blind. Aside from the first binding, something had been holding her back during each attempt to remove a loop. When she’d last tried to remove the beads, she’d only thought she was properly committed to fulfilling her promise. But deep within, she’d been consumed by doubt and fear. Reluctance had tainted her resolve, and her lack of commitment, not her lack of power, had caused her to fail.
Her fear of losing Shiro to Inari had sabotaged her last attempt, but she couldn’t let that stop her now. If she failed, Shiro would die. And she didn’t have to be afraid anymore, because she wouldn’t live long enough to see Inari take Shiro’s place.
“Emi, no—” Sharp denial crackled in his voice as the muscles in his arm bunched, prepared to wrench away from her. But it was too late.
Smiling gently, she curled her fingers around the beads and pulled. The curse’s magic rushed up her arm as her kami-infused ki burst through her and into the onenju.
The beaded loop slipped easily over his hand, offering no resistance at all.
Power erupted from the
beads as the seal released. The force flung her backward, tearing her out of his arms. As she crashed to the ground, pain found her for the first time since the dragon’s bite, turning her entire world to suffocating agony.
Chapter 24
“Don’t you dare die on me now, Emi!”
Shiro’s furious snarl penetrated the haze of pain and darkness enclosing her thoughts. She struggled to focus, to push through her daze.
“Are you listening to me? Open your eyes!”
With far more effort than it should have required, she forced her eyes open a crack.
Shiro’s face filled her vision, his teeth bared in desperate fury. He was kneeling over her where she lay on the ground. All around them were roaring flames leaping for the sky, an inferno with no start or end.
“Heal your wounds, Emi,” he commanded.
She didn’t have the breath to tell him she didn’t know how. Her lungs fluttered urgently but she was drowning in air, unable to get the oxygen she needed.
“You have Amaterasu’s power. I can sense it. Heal yourself!”
Gasping weakly, she slowly brought her hands to her chest. Her fingers found the torn silk of her kimono, the fabric drenched in blood. Her blood. Her mind blanked and her eyelids flickered, wanting to close.
“No, you don’t,” Shiro growled. His hands closed over either side of her face, shockingly hot against her cool skin. “You’re not leaving me in this mess alone, do you hear me, Emi? Heal yourself!”
She strained against the weight of her eyelids, against the burning, suffocating pressure on her lungs. Despite removing the onenju loop, her kamigakari mark still pulsed with more power waiting for her to command. But command it how? She couldn’t think.
As he leaned down, his hands tilted her face up, forcing her eyes to meet his. “You can’t die now, Emi. I need you with me.”
I need you. His words sank through her, bringing new warmth to her icy limbs. I need you with me.
Her fingers dug into her torn flesh and she squeezed her eyes shut. Help me, Amaterasu! I don’t know how!