Immortal Fire (The Red Winter Trilogy Book 3)

  The urge to touch his face, to pull his mouth to hers and see if kissing him was the same as kissing Shiro, shocked her. A blush singed her cheeks. Of all the reactions she could have, that was her first thought?

  His head tilted and something odd flickered across his expression.

  “Susano,” Yumei called, startling her, “it is time to leave.”

  Inari started as well, his head turning toward the Tengu—and between one instant and the next, he was Shiro again. The ancient presence was gone, the Kunitsukami once again slumbering somewhere within his forgotten memories.

  The black clouds rumbled angrily. A massive bolt of lightning leaped from the sky and struck the boulders behind the remains of the storehouse.

  In the wake of the blinding light, the great storm dragon that was Susano’s true form perched on the rocks, his serpentine body coiled among the boulders. His silvery scales gleamed and radiance glowed from the tiny gaps between them. Graceful curved spines flowed along the length of his back, and a silver mane with a dark blue streak in the center ran from his forehead down the first third of his body. A pair of horns adorned his sleek, narrow head.

  Sapphire eyes passed over her and Shiro to Yumei, who had pulled Sarutahiko’s arms over his shoulders to support the lifeless Kunitsukami. Then the dragon’s attention turned to Tsukiyomi and his lips pulled up, revealing a terrifying array of pointed teeth.

  Tsukiyomi studied the storm dragon as the surf thundered against the shore and the sky rumbled with gathering power. Then the Amatsukami inclined his head toward the dragon.

  “I bid you to save the kamigakari if you could, and so you have. I offer no quarrel. Do as you please.” His dark gaze drifted from Susano to Emi, and defeat suffused his indecipherable features. With his two shikigami serpents behind him, he turned away and followed the trail toward the manor.

  Susano’s head weaved side to side as though he was considering his next move, then he surged toward her and Shiro. The first time she’d seen the dragon—from a distance and in close quarters with the impossibly immense eight-headed Orochi—he hadn’t seemed that large.

  She’d been wrong. He was enormous.

  His forefoot reached toward them, deadly claws uncurling, and he carefully enclosed Emi and Shiro in his grip. With his other forefoot, he took hold of Yumei and Sarutahiko. Then he launched into the sky, his long body gliding effortlessly on currents of air.

  Pressed tight to Shiro within the dragon’s hold, Emi hid her face against his shoulder, her hands gripping fistfuls of his bloodied kimono. Tears streaked her cheeks as they were swept into the clouds and the faint shimmer of ocean waves vanished in the darkness.

  Chapter 9

  Susano flew without stopping, undulating through the heavens. With only clouds below and stars above, Emi lost all sense of time and distance. She huddled against Shiro, face buried in his kosode to protect it from the icy wind. Her chest ached fiercely with a relentless burning pain.

  Her exhausted thoughts buzzed incoherently, and she didn’t tune back in to the world around her until her stomach swooped. They were dropping. The great dragon angled downward as they lost altitude, and she saw, with weary surprise, that the clouds beneath them had dissipated, revealing a long valley nestled between snow-covered mountain peaks.

  As Susano spiraled toward the ground at petrifying speeds, starlight illuminated the dense fog that filled the basin between mountains. Her skin prickled with recognition.

  The dragon leveled off above the treetops, his passage sending the mist into wild eddies. He sped above the forest, long tail snaking behind him. As the dragon’s claws tightened, Shiro pulled her even closer.

  The woods beneath them cleared, and she glimpsed shimmering water in a familiar glade filled with green grass and blooming flowers. Susano arced upward, shooting straight into the sky, then curved over backward, pointing his nose toward the ground.

  They plummeted without slowing. As the reflective surface of the spring rushed to meet them, cold magic sizzled across her skin and the glade rippled strangely.

  The dragon’s nose hit the calm surface with a violent splash. Water flew everywhere as he plunged headfirst into the pool, carrying his passengers with him. Before she could brace for his impact with the bottom, water engulfed them and magic raced over her body, trying to drag her back. Susano soared down as the world turned to shimmering turquoise.

  Icy magic closed around her. The air thickened and her vision darkened as she struggled to breathe. Then the pressure lifted and Susano settled on the ground, still holding Emi and the others in his claws. A strange but familiar collage of colors surrounded them in a blurry dome.

  Uzume, the beautiful Kunitsukami of the Wood, swept out of the swirling rainbow, her tawny braid flying behind her. She rushed toward them, arms outstretched.

  “You did it,” she gasped. “You did it.”

  Susano opened his claws, releasing Yumei and Sarutahiko. As Yumei adjusted his grip on the unconscious Kunitsukami, Uzume cupped her husband’s face with both hands.

  “This way, quickly. The night wanes and the blossom will close once the moon sets.”

  With Yumei carrying Sarutahiko, she led them back into the rippling colors.

  Susano rumbled, a sound more reminiscent of thunder than a growl, then carefully released her and Shiro. Her legs buckled and Shiro pulled her up, tucking her against him.

  The dragon shook his head and huffed. Crackling electricity rushed over his scales and the light glowing from within him brightened. Clouds formed out of nothing and boiled across his body, obscuring him. When they dispersed, the dragon was gone and in his place, Susano stood in human form, dressed in familiar blue garments with a long sword sheathed at his hip.

  He rolled his shoulders, then stepped toward Emi, searching her face.

  “Being this deep in Tsuchi will not be comfortable for you,” he told her, “but Uzume’s barrier should be enough.” His gaze flicked to Shiro. “And you, Inari? Still breathing, I see.”

  Shiro shrugged, unconcerned. “A little blood loss won’t kill me.”

  Taking in his blood-streaked face and clothes drenched in crimson, she whispered weakly, “A little?”

  Ignoring her question, Shiro guided her along the same path as Uzume and Yumei. Through the dancing colors, a shadow took form: the immense trunk of a fallen tree, destroyed by an unknown yokai at Izanami’s command. From the jagged stump, still anchored to the ground, a tiny sapling grew, its thin branches bearing a handful of leaves. The stem where the single white blossom had grown was bare.

  Sarutahiko lay prone by the broad stump, with Uzume leaning over him. Crouched beside her, Yumei watched intently. They blocked Emi’s view of the Kunitsukami leader, denying her a chance to see his face. She had yet to get a decent look at him and knew only that he was tall and broad-shouldered.

  As Susano joined Uzume and Yumei, Shiro drew her away. He led her along the trunk before turning her back to it and gently pushing her down until she was sitting against the rough bark. Crouching, he captured her chin in his fingers and lifted her face to examine her features the way Susano had moments before.

  “Shiro,” she choked. Her trembling hand rose and she pressed her fingers against his uninjured jaw. “I thought I would never see you again.”

  His thumb stroked her cheek. “We tried to find you sooner.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “Tsukiyomi told me he’d hidden the island with a barrier. That’s why …”

  “Why you sent up that flare for us? That was clever.” Something dark and dangerous passed through his eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, he didn’t hurt me. What happened when … when you arrived?”

  “It was definitely a surreal moment.” Humor softened his features. “There was a lot of confusion before we realized you were in danger and that Tsukiyomi wanted to help you, not fight us.”

  Her chest throbbed painfully. She had yet to check how badly Shiro had burned her to destroy the se
al on her kamigakari mark.

  “Shiro, did you …” She swallowed, afraid of his answer. “Did you find Byakko?”

  His face hardened again. “Yes. Because harm befell his child while he was helping us, Susano decided to spare his life—for now.”

  Though Shiro clearly didn’t agree with Susano’s verdict, she relaxed against the trunk as a notch of tension eased. “I’m glad you didn’t hurt him. He was just protecting his son.”

  “I never said I didn’t hurt him. We just didn’t kill him.” He released her chin and thumped down beside her, leaning against the bark. “I guess it worked out. In fact, minus your out-of-control tornado of death, you had everything handled pretty well.”

  She smiled weakly. “I’ll skip the tornado of death next time. I don’t think I’m cut out for making shikigami.”

  “If you can call that a shikigami,” he said with a snort. “An untethered elemental force with its own willpower is kind of terrifying.”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled, embarrassed at how badly she’d messed up the shikigami spell. Hesitantly, she reached between them and found his hand.

  He closed his fingers around hers, warm and strong, and his undamaged ear swiveled in her direction. “Susano and Yumei were certain you were dead. We couldn’t imagine any reason why Tsukiyomi would keep you alive.”

  She ran her thumb over his knuckles. “But you?”

  “There was no blood on the river bank. No body. They had taken you away. Why transport you if they only intended to kill you?” He looked at their entwined hands. “Yumei and Susano called me an idiot for insisting you were alive. I’ll make sure to rub that in their faces later.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. His hand around hers was comforting as her body ached with painful weariness and her burn throbbed. Her feet hurt too from running across rocky ground in only socks.

  In her mind, she again saw Shiro’s face shift as Inari replaced him. His ancient eyes had looked so deep into her soul. What had he seen within her? What had he been looking for?

  “Shiro, what …” She trailed off, losing her nerve. She was afraid to ask if he remembered facing Amaterasu as Inari. Or had he forgotten, as he had the previous times his old self had briefly resurfaced?

  Shiro’s shoulder tensed under her and she looked up. Uzume glided toward them, Yumei trailing in her wake. Back by the stump, Susano sat beside Sarutahiko, watching over him.

  Shiro released Emi’s hand, stiffening further as Uzume knelt in front of them. Without a word, the goddess wrapped her arms firmly around Shiro in a heartfelt hug. His ears flattened to his head and he angled his face away, not pushing her off but clearly not appreciating the contact.

  “Inari,” Uzume murmured. “It has been far too long.”

  She released him and leaned back, laughing softly at his less-than-pleased expression. “Do not fret, my darling fox. Susano informed me of your memory loss. I will not inflict another embrace on you until you remember that you are content to allow my motherly affections.”

  His ears, even the injured one, flattened even tighter to his head, and for once, he was at a loss for words.

  Uzume clasped Emi’s hands in hers, her golden eyes shining with warmth. “My child, I cannot convey my gratitude. Even as I set you upon your journey, I feared you could not possibly succeed. Yet here you are, and you have returned my beloved to me.”

  “I’m sorry it took so long,” Emi mumbled, blushing under the Kunitsukami’s praise.

  “There is enough time yet. His ki already stirs and soon he will wake.” She slipped a hand into the front of her obi. “But first, let me soothe your pain. Open your mouth, child.”

  Blinking in surprise, Emi hesitantly obeyed. Uzume withdrew a small, luminous petal and touched it to Emi’s tongue. Sweetness bloomed throughout her mouth. After a few seconds, Uzume lifted the petal. Emi licked her lips, aching for the divine sweetness but knowing any more of the potent healing power would be lethal to her mortal body.

  Uzume turned to Shiro. “And now you, Inari.”

  His eyes narrowed stubbornly but before he could refuse, she pushed the petal between his lips.

  “If you spit that out, I will make you regret it.” The threat sounded a bit strange in her honeyed voice. “I saved it for you and I will not be pleased if you waste it. Hold it on your tongue until it dissolves.”

  He reluctantly kept the petal in his mouth. Studying him, Uzume frowned and reached for his injured ear. He jerked his head away from her hand.

  “Now, Inari!” she exclaimed. “You are being ridiculous. Your ear needs attention to heal properly.” She rose to her feet. “Come with me. I will take care of it.”

  She took a few steps, then looked back at him still sitting beside Emi with his mouth shut tight on the petal.

  “Come, Inari. Never have I seen you so shy. Come!”

  Shiro scowled, ears flattening again.

  Yumei, standing nearby, cast a sideways glance at him and murmured, “You challenged Susano without pause, but Uzume intimidates you?”

  Glaring at Yumei, Shiro pushed himself up and trudged after Uzume. Despite Yumei’s remark, Shiro had frozen up in a similar way when he first saw Susano. Something about encountering his fellow Kunitsukami threw him off balance. Did their presence stir his lost memories? Facing Amaterasu directly for the first time in a century had certainly roused the shadows of his past.

  She looked up at Yumei, who watched the shimmering wall of colors that surrounded them—Uzume’s barrier, she presumed. With effort, Emi climbed to her feet and sat on the fallen tree.

  “Yumei?” She bit her lip. “Back at the inn, do you … do you remember the kanashibari?”

  He glanced at her. “Of course.”

  “Do you remember what you dreamed about?”

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed hard. “I … saw your dream.”

  He stiffened and faced her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I was trying to wake you and Shiro up.” She hunched her shoulders under his scrutiny. “The kanashibari that was sitting on you touched me and—and sent me into your dream.”

  Disbelief flitted across his features.

  She twisted her hands together. “Can I ask … what happened after you and Inari … talked?”

  Yumei turned to the colorful barrier with his back rigid and arms folded. She wilted, though she wasn’t surprised that he wouldn’t answer. Why would he discuss such a personal memory with a human girl?

  “I did exactly as Inari instructed me.”

  Her head jolted up.

  “I dispersed my armies, destroyed my holdings, and sent my daitengu away,” he continued flatly. “Then I retreated to Tsuchi. Izanagi descended within a decade and when he could not find me, he hunted my daitengu instead.”

  His shoulders flexed as though resisting the urge to summon his wings. “I returned to the earthly realm.”

  “To give him a better target than your daitengu?” When he nodded, she asked in a near whisper, “What happened?”

  “He killed me.”

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Again, he twitched his shoulders, his right hand opening and closing as though yearning to hold a weapon. “I led him on a long, frustrating chase first, hoping he would expend his energy on me and lose interest in hunting my generals. When he finally caught me … There is death, and there is destruction. He destroyed me, inflicting as much damage as he could to ensure I would never revive.”

  Fear lit through her despite the evidence in front of her that Izanagi’s attempt had failed. “But you did.”

  “Eventually.”

  He paced away from her, motions sharp with tense, restless energy. She squeezed her hands together, wishing she could offer comfort or sympathy but knowing he wanted neither. Silence fell over them, broken only by the distant murmur of conversation between Susano and Uzume.

  The strange walls of Uzume’s barrier swirled and shimmered in a stunning blend of colors. I
t was beautiful, but Emi couldn’t help her unease. This place felt wrong to her senses. The last time she was here, Uzume had kept Emi in a strange, dreamy state to protect her mind from this realm, but she wasn’t protected this time. The wrongness of this place scraped across her subconscious, and soft, insidious whispers flitted in and out of her hearing.

  A short distance away, Yumei stared at the barrier, lost in thought.

  She lightly rubbed at the diminishing burn in her chest. “Yumei, do you think we should … Yumei? Yumei?”

  Only on the third repetition of his name did he glance at her. “What?”

  Pushing off the trunk, she took a few steps closer, her brow wrinkling at the lack of focus in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

  His attention returned to the barrier only a dozen feet before him. “Yes.”

  “What are you looking at?” When he didn’t answer, she moved to his side and repeated his name. He again ignored her, and she tugged his sleeve.

  His head jerked toward her.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked again.

  “Nothing,” he snapped, pulling away from her. Despite his irritated denial, his eyes again slid toward the barrier as though he couldn’t help himself.

  She frowned, unable to see anything in the ever-shifting wall of colors except the occasional shapeless flicker of shadow. She didn’t remember seeing shadows before. Was it because they were closer to the barrier?

  “Yumei,” she said uneasily. “Let’s go back to Uzume and the others.”

  He stared at the barrier, entranced. She pulled on his sleeve again, but he didn’t look away.

  “Yumei,” she said as forcefully as she could without shouting. “Snap out of it.”

  His eyes went completely out of focus, pupils shrinking to pinpricks in his pale irises. “It’s calling me.”

  Alarm flashed through her and she tightened her hold on his sleeve. “What’s calling you?”

  He didn’t answer. Beyond the barrier, the shadows darkened and expanded, dimming the churning colors. From a memory that felt more like a dream, Uzume’s voice murmured: I dare not bring him this far, this deep. Tsuchi loves its dark prince and would never let him go.