Dragon Sword and Wind Child (36 page)

“Do you expect me to smile?” she retorted sharply. “When I've been taken captive by my enemies and brought here against my will?”

“Am I your enemy?”

“You seem to have lost your senses,” Saya answered hotly and turned to face him. “I can never be your bride. For I love all that lives in Toyoashihara more than I love the Light. You're my enemy against whom I must fight. You may despise me if you like. For if I had had a bow and arrow, I would have shot you when you shot Chihaya.”

Prince Tsukishiro had removed his armor and was dressed in a soft shade of blue. Slim and graceful, he in no way resembled a warrior. She could scarcely believe it was the same man who had but a short while ago shot Chihaya. “Let me go,” she demanded once again. “Either that or kill me. For I have no desire to live as a captive. Let me go back to Chihaya.”

Smiling wryly, the Prince shook his head. “They say that young girls' hearts are fickle, but to think that yours could change so much in such a brief time.”

“Have you forgotten? I left the palace of my own accord.”

“But you also left with the words that you still loved me.”

Saya faltered and fell silent. It was true; moreover, whether she liked it or not, he still struck a chord in her heart as he stood there before her. He had not changed at all since they had first met on the night of the Kagai. No matter how bloodstained his hands, his presence still inspired awe. Yet such immutable purity was beyond her grasp. She murmured, “Sometimes one realizes the truth only later.”

“That's absurd.” Prince Tsukishiro laughed. “You seem to be taken with Chihaya, but he, too, is a Prince of Light. You claim to fight against the Light, yet you're still drawn to it. That's your nature.”

Saya reddened. “Chihaya isn't like you or Princess Teruhi. He learns; he overcomes; he changes. And he intends to protect this land from your hands.”

“He always was a useless fool. Whatever Chihaya may do, it's futile. He can't save Toyoashihara.”

“Can you be so sure?”

“Yes. For it is Chihaya himself who summons our celestial father.” The Prince's voice echoed coldly. “At the time of his birth, the God of Light placed a seal inside him. If it is broken, our father will descend from the heavens. There's nothing Chihaya can do.”

“It can't be!” Saya gasped, appalled.

Prince Tsukishiro looked at her sadly. “And you, Saya, you also summon our father. All of this was revealed in Teruhi's reading of the omens. She has been locked up in the shrine for the past few days, reading the future.”

Still not fully comprehending, Saya gazed at him, both hands held to her mouth, unable to move. She felt caught, bound by an invisible thread, and seemed to glimpse in her mind a huge spinning wheel, spinning, spinning, oblivious to the desires of men.

Prince Tsukishiro spoke softly. “Teruhi intends to use you as the sacrifice in the purification ceremony. But I brought you here before she could find you. Come back to me. If you'll give me your heart, I will give you the power of renewal, and so save you from being sacrificed. If it is your nature to change your affections, then surely you can do so once again.”

Saya stepped back slightly. With her eyes riveted to his face, she slowly shook her head.

“Even though by doing so you could prevent the advent of the God of Light?”

“Yes,” Saya replied in a scarcely audible voice. “My heart moves of its own accord. I can't control it with my mind.”

Another voice unexpectedly endorsed her statement. “She's right. It's impossible.”

Saya and Prince Tsukishiro caught their breath and turned. Leaning one arm against the doorway stood Princess Teruhi. She wore a snow-white robe over white trousers, and her long hair hung loose in disarray as though blown by a fierce wind. Her eyes glowed eerily, making her appear demented.

“It never occurred to me that you of all people would attempt to interfere, Tsukishiro. For what foolish whim do you intend to obstruct the advent of our father?”

Concealing his consternation, Prince Tsukishiro asked casually, “What are you doing here, sister, when you haven't set foot outside the shrine sanctuary for days?”

Princess Teruhi laughed abruptly, her voice shrill. “Don't be a fool. When I sought the omens for Saya's location, didn't they point directly to within this very palace? Well, at least you saved me the trouble of capturing her myself.”

Her laughter ceased and she fixed her brother with a murderous glare. “You'd better have a good explanation. Why did you try to steal Saya away? You must have some reason when you know full well she's needed for the sacrifice.”

Seeing that the Prince did not answer, she continued, “Don't think that I'll forgive your actions on the basis of your reply. Anyone who tries to thwart me now when my work upon this earth is almost complete is my enemy.”

“You still don't understand, do you, sister?” Prince Tsukishiro said softly. “I didn't wish to disillusion you, but as you insist, I'll speak. I did this because I know the true reason for our father's descent. He comes to summon the Goddess of Darkness back to the realms above.”

Princess Teruhi's eyebrows shot up. “Nonsense!”

“No. Although you're the omen reader, you've been so enraptured by our father that you ignored this one fact concealed within all the omens. Or rather, you didn't attempt to understand it, despite the fact that, from the very beginning, our father's thoughts have always been centered upon the Goddess.”

“Our purpose on this earth was to cleanse it of all things tainted by the Darkness.”

“Don't you see? To destroy the power of Darkness is to destroy death. To destroy death is to summon the Goddess before us.” Prince Tsukishiro sounded resigned. “Our celestial father intends to restore everything to its original state, to join earth and heaven once more in chaos and begin all over again. To return the Goddess to his side. While we have no control over that decision, for myself, I wish to gaze on Toyoashihara just a little longer, for it's beautiful in itself, just as it is.”

An expression of shocked disbelief spread across Princess Teruhi's face. “The God of Light and the Goddess of Darkness are incompatible. It can't be. They despise each other.” Walking forward, she stopped directly in front of Prince Tsukishiro and demanded, “Are you saying that all our efforts to purify the earth for so many years have been for the sake of the Goddess of Darkness?”

“It isn't I who say so. It's simply the truth. Think carefully about why Saya should be chosen as the final sacrifice.”

For a while, Princess Teruhi did not respond. Then she asked in a strangely quiet voice, “When did you know this?”

“I had an inkling of it some time ago,” Prince Tsukishiro replied.

At that she suddenly shrieked, “I've had it with you. Always, always you disappoint me.”

“Teruhi.”

“How, then, could you continue to fight?”

The Prince whispered, “What else could we do but fight?”

Princess Teruhi gripped one hand in the other and bit down on her fingers in an attempt to control her trembling. “I don't believe it. I won't believe that the war we have fought is meaningless. I won't believe that our father's sacred eyes could be fixed on the filth of Darkness. The God in heaven is pure and stainless. We're here to worship and praise him.” Her voice suddenly weakened. She murmured as though to herself, “Surely our celestial father must love us.”

Her eyes were hidden in the shadow of her tousled hair. Prince Tsukishiro reached out his hand and gently brushed a lock from her face as though soothing a child. “Of course he does. We're his children.”

Without raising her face, Princess Teruhi said, “You always speak so lightly.”

“I just can't bear to see you grieve.”

After a brief pause, she recovered and gave her head a shake. “There's still much to be done. The war isn't over yet, and the ceremony is long overdue. The main hall must still be rebuilt, and changes must be made in the purification rite.”

She looked at Saya and then at Prince Tsukishiro and said, “There'll be no change in the sacrificial offering. And you wouldn't have been able to give her immortality in any case because she's too useful as bait. You can be sure that Chihaya will come after her.”

3

THE ROOM
in which Saya was imprisoned was at the top of the high wooden tower that stood between Prince Tsukishiro's and Princess Teruhi's halls. No doubt the view would have been splendid, but the only windows were small skylights located near the ceiling. Enclosed by four bare walls, she felt suffocated, and like a small bird beating its wings against a cage, she paced unceasingly about the room in search of an opening. Her search was futile, however, and she only succeeded in bruising her fingers. Although she wept occasionally, she did not abandon herself to despair. For, in parting, Princess Teruhi had declared that Chihaya would come. Her predictions inspired a fear that seemed beyond hope, yet Saya still longed to meet Chihaya once more. Regardless of what happened, no matter what the future might bring, it could not stop her from hoping that they would meet again, nor quell her yearning to see his smiling face one last time.

The temperature dropped each night, and piercing cold permeated the unheated room. The guard, pitying her plight, gave her a fur to wrap herself in, but even huddled within it she was frozen. Several days passed in which only the color of the sky glimpsed through the skylight told her of the changing of day to night. Then one particularly cold morning, as she sat huddled in a corner, her feet and hands tucked as close to her body as possible, she heard the sound of the latch opening. Thinking it was the guard coming to collect her dishes, she thought that he would do well to notice the film of ice on the water in the pitcher. But to her surprise, the person who entered the room was none other than Princess Teruhi. The cold air turned her breath frosty white, but she wore only a single robe of thin white cloth, which made Saya shiver just to look at. Princess Teruhi, however, seemed totally unconcerned, and her fair skin had
the healthy glow of a peach.

In a clear, sweet voice, she said, “So, we were about to turn the Water Maiden into an ice maiden. I'd forgotten that you need the warmth of charcoal. Never mind. It snowed.”

Saya was well aware that the sleet of the previous day had turned to snow in the night as some of it had actually blown through the skylight. Wondering what the Princess had come to tell her, she stared back at her warily, waiting for her to speak.

“It's unusual to see so much snow in the first snowfall. Come, let's go and look at it together.” The sight of her speaking so gaily reminded Saya of the little girl Fawn, and she was taken aback. Somehow this naiveté strangely suited her, and Saya found her heart drawn to her unwillingly as she followed her out of the room. Climbing gingerly down the steep stairs on numb legs, they came to a floor that consisted of an open-walled colonnade from which the scenery could be viewed in all directions. The storm clouds had gone, and beneath the bright silver sky everything was white as though wearing a new coat of paint. The snow was not deep, but it covered every inch of the ground, every crack and cranny. The black thatched roofs and red-lacquered columns of the buildings were accentuated by the white snow's damp embrace. The ancient green pine trees brooded silently. Even the blackened remnants of the main hall's columns burned in the summer fire appeared beautiful in the snow. Sounds were muted as though absorbed by silk floss, and in the bright silent morning Mahoroba seemed a different world.

“I love snow, even more than flowers,” Princess Teruhi said lightheartedly as she leaned out over the balustrade. “How white the snow that falls from heaven! I love its coldness, a manifestation of purity. It soothes all troubles away.”

“Children love snow, too. They romp about in it heedless of frostbite,” Saya said.

“Do you like it, too?”

“Yes. But I like flowers, as well. And summer, and autumn, and everything.”

Princess Teruhi smiled faintly and looked at Saya. “You wish to tell me that you love Toyoashihara. But you know, in my own way, I have also been working for the good of this land.” The Princess continued as though talking to herself. “While I'm a child of the God of Light, this is the only land I know. I often used to imagine when I saw snow fall that this place must be like the palace in the heavens. But most likely I love this view simply because it is all I know.”

She turned once again to gaze at the view, and Saya stared at her back. She lacked her usual arrogance and appeared instead to be deep in thought. “There's still time,” Saya said frankly. “Won't you stop the coming of the God of Light?”

“I can't,” Princess Teruhi responded in a low voice. “No one can bend the will of the God. I am only his child, a demigod.”

“But you understand, don't you, that his intention to destroy Toyoashihara is wrong? For it is only in cherishing this land, in nurturing it, that he is truly our divine father.”

Princess Teruhi thought for a while but then, instead of replying, she asked Saya a question. “What is the Goddess of Darkness like? Is she beautiful? No, I can't believe that one who receives all the defilement of the earth can be beautiful or pure. After all, our father was so seized with dread at the sight of her in the underworld that he sealed the opening with a stone. But why, then, does he summon her?”

Saya hesitated and shook her head. “I don't know. Only those who reside in the Land of the Dead know what she looks like.”

SHE
was returned to her room, but the guard brought her a brazier.

Princess Teruhi. She killed my parents; she killed Natsume and the
child she bore; she has snuffed out countless innocent lives. And she'll
try to kill me, and Chihaya as well, without any compunction,
Saya told herself. She had more than enough reason to despise the Princess, yet she could only pity her. Like a naughty child, she destroyed whatever she laid her hands on without knowing what she had done. Perhaps she would only realize it with surprise after she had lost everything.