Dragon Sword and Wind Child (37 page)

But then it will be too late. I can't just let her kill me. If only I had the
power to win back my life.
As these thoughts were running through her mind, she caught the faint sound of wings. She raised her head but without much hope, for she had heard this sound so often in her mind. Just then, however, a glossy black beak and head peered through the bars of the window. Folding his wings and squeezing through, the crow dropped down to the floor.

“Here I am,” he said.

A lump rose in Saya's throat so that she could not respond immediately. “I–I knew you would come. But oh, I'm so glad!”

“Actually, I would have been here much sooner, but I've become so well known that there are mist nets hung all around this place. It was hard work making a hole in them.”

“Is anyone else with you?”

“Lord Shinado, Chihaya, and three others. They're all concealed within the palace in disguise: Lord Shinado as a musician, of course; the three others as servants or soldiers; and, best of all, Chihaya as one of Princess Teruhi's own handmaidens. We'll open the gate tomorrow at sunset, and the army of Darkness will invade the palace.”

“What about the purification ceremony?”

“It's scheduled for the day after. I have no intention of allowing you to be sacrificed. That's the most disgusting ceremony I've ever seen.”

“Please stop them. I don't want to be the one who summons the God of Light.”

Suddenly she began to tremble. It was a strange time to feel afraid, but the hope of imminent rescue seemed to have multiplied her fear.

“Do you think Chihaya will be all right? A handmaiden of all things! He mustn't underestimate Princess Teruhi.”

“Don't worry. He disguised himself well. You wouldn't recognize him,” Torihiko replied, cheerfully spreading his wings. “He isn't stupid. Although there are times when he seems so.”

“That's true.” Saya tried to smile only to realize that her cheeks had become stiff over the last few days.

“My job is to mobilize all my underlings and get you out of here. A pretty good role, don't you think? It's going to be spectacular. I have such an army of birds it would take you your whole life to count them. Together we'll lower you to the ground.”

“Can you really do it?” Saya's eyes were wide with astonishment.

“Just wait and see.” And with a flap of his wings he flew up to the window.

“I'm so excited!” Saya cried.

“That's the spirit. The woodpeckers will come as soon as I leave. It'll be a bit noisy but be patient.”

Now that her spirits were raised, Saya desperately wished there was something she could do. To simply sit and wait to be rescued seemed the least attractive role to play. “Wait!” she called out impulsively, longing to contribute in some way. She removed the Water Maiden's magatama from around her neck and held it out to Torihiko. “Give this to Chihaya for me. Tell him to keep it until we meet again.”

The crow flew down and grasped the blue stone in his beak. “Right. I'll take it to him.”

Once he had left, a flock of woodpeckers came, just as he had said. They clung to the window frame and began patiently pecking at it with their beaks.

THE NEXT DAY
was also cold and snow still covered the ground. Chihaya knelt on the verandah, pretending to gaze at the garden, while Lord Shinado, having checked to make sure the coast was clear, passed by casually.

“A performance is to be held at noon,” Lord Shinado whispered rapidly.

“But this is the period of abstinence!”

“Teruhi knows nothing about it. It's Prince Tsukishiro's plan.”

Chihaya thought a moment before replying. “This will make it easier for us to act.”

“Inform the other three. I plan to stay in my place until the last moment.”

Without changing his expression, Lord Shinado proceeded along the passageway. Chihaya rose after waiting a little longer and stole into Prince Tsukishiro's palace. People hurried up and down the connecting passages. The palace had always been short staffed, but its elegance had gradually declined since the fire. The complaint of the elderly that this was a degenerate age was not necessarily an idle one. Although the capital surrounding it still retained an air of grandeur, within the Palace of Light something had been broken and irretrievably lost. Certainly the fact that the two immortals no longer paid attention played a major role in its decline. Princess Teruhi had not returned to her quarters for a long time, remaining closeted in the reconstructed shrine. Because of this, Chihaya had been able to pass himself off as a novice without being challenged, but it was not pleasant to see how lax discipline had become in the handmaidens' quarters.

Even without being attacked by the army of Darkness, this place
would fall into ruin. It would have been better that way,
Chihaya thought as he stopped in a corner of the passageway and watched the people passing by.

“Excuse me. If you have a moment, perhaps you could help me?”

A handmaiden he had never seen before suddenly spoke to him. She was just an innocent young girl; probably a novice such as he was pretending to be. “I didn't know that there was to be a recital today
and I have no idea what I'm to do.”

Red-faced, she was on the verge of tears. “No one here cares about anyone else. I've only just entered service in the palace, yet they tell me I must dance. I don't even know which fan I'm supposed to use. And then they tell me that anyone who makes a mistake will be executed on the spot.”

“In that case, fear no more,” Chihaya reassured her. “I will teach you.”

The girl's face shone. “How kind of you! Are you one of the dancers, too?”

“No.”

The girl looked up at him a little bashfully. “But how strange. You would make a much better dancer than I. You're so tall and beautiful.”

“I'm one of Princess Teruhi's handmaidens,” Chihaya explained.

The girl covered her mouth in consternation. “Oh! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked such a thing of you.”

Chihaya grinned and said, “But only you and I need ever know.”

AT NOON
the sun, a silver disk bereft of warmth, peered through the clouded sky. It remained cold, and the frozen landscape spread out in all directions. The sound of string and wind instruments hung in the frosty air, echoing mysteriously. Prince Tsukishiro had had cushions placed around the veranda on the south side of the hall. Here he sat with the assembled guests, watching the dancers perform in the inner courtyard while the musicians played on a platform set up alongside a connecting passageway. The Prince himself, however, did not appear to be enjoying the music. Rather, he seemed deep in thought, his arm laid along the armrest as he stared at the performers. The musicians were infected by his mood and, despite the gay costumes of the dancers, the music assumed a melancholy air.

This is indeed farewell,
thought Lord Shinado as he played his reed pipes.
Win or lose, this is the last performance for the forces of Light
and Darkness.

“You there!” Prince Tsukishiro spoke without bothering to look at the musicians. “You're flat. Didn't you know that I'm musician enough to tell?”

Before anyone had had time to even grasp his meaning, armored guards leaped out and surrounded the musicians' platform. Some musicians dropped their instruments in surprise, the music came to a sudden standstill, and the dancers stood trembling.

The soldiers stood over the musicians, their spears held ready, but, perplexed about which musician the Prince had indicated, one of them asked, “Which one has offended you?”

“He knows who I mean,” Prince Tsukishiro replied. The commander queried the musicians, but no one responded.

“It doesn't matter,” Prince Tsukishiro said listlessly. “Behead them all, starting at the end.”

A soldier grasped the collar of an elderly flute player, who had turned deathly pale, and hauled him from his place. As he drew his sword and held it aloft, Lord Shinado rose.

“It was I.”

Before the soldiers could turn around, Lord Shinado jumped from the platform. The soldier who had been about to lop off the old man's head turned and swung his sword, but Lord Shinado swiftly parried the blow with his pipes. The hoop binding them together was severed, and the bamboo reeds flew apart with a loud noise. Momentarily distracted, the soldier found himself pummeled with fists and feet, and dropped his sword. Grasping the fallen blade, Lord Shinado desperately attacked the milling soldiers. Some fell back under the vigor of his assault.

“My bow,” commanded Prince Tsukishiro calmly. Taking the proffered weapon, he shrugged one arm out of his sleeve and grasped an arrow. No matter how agile Lord Shinado might have been, the Prince could not miss at that range. By the time Lord Shinado was aware of him, it was too late. With a shrill noise the arrow was loosed. But at that moment someone threw a fan. The arrow pierced its handle and, swerving slightly from its path, struck the column beside Lord Shinado. Everyone turned in disbelief to see that one of the five dancers was empty-handed.

Prince Tsukishiro said in astonishment, “So there you are.”

Chihaya leaped lightly over the heads of the crowd, his jade-green and crimson hem billowing, and landed right beside Lord Shinado, as if scorning their incredulity.

“You fool!” Lord Shinado said angrily. “We agreed that anyone who was discovered would be left behind.”

“As an extra member, I never agreed to anything,” Chihaya replied. “Besides, I'm in your debt.”

“You're every inch a fool, my brother,” Prince Tsukishiro said with deep disappointment. “To come here, to this place, playing into our hands. Don't you realize that I'm holding this performance for Saya's sake?”

Chihaya looked at his older brother in surprise.

“Teruhi won't use Saya for the sacrifice. If I know her, she won't let her live that long.”

THE FLOCK
of woodpeckers now numbered twenty or thirty, and they continued to chip away at the wood like carpenters. They had already begun to remove the second panel of wainscoting, and it looked as if Saya would be able to squeeze through. Suddenly, however, the birds became tense and silent. As they flew hastily away, Saya heard the sound of light footsteps. The latch drew back. Saya stood up hurriedly and tried to conceal any evidence of the woodpeckers' handiwork with her body. Before her stood Princess Teruhi. Her expression was calm and peaceful.

“Saya,” the Princess addressed her in a quiet tone. “Do you wish to preserve Toyoashihara no matter what the cost?”

“Yes,” Saya replied.

“Well, I've been thinking. I can't help feeling that it would be too heartless to return this land to chaos.”

Saya's eyes widened. “If both sides think this way, then the war is no longer necessary. Will you stop the coming of the God of Light?”

“As long as the Goddess remains in the Land of the Dead, Toyoashihara will be preserved even if the God of Light descends upon the earth,” Princess Teruhi said. “It's the meeting of the two divinities that must be prevented. Regardless of what our divine father wishes, the Goddess must not be summoned before him. I have decided to ignore this one point only. The purification ceremony will be conducted without you—because you, along with our celestial father, would surely summon forth the Goddess. I don't wish to see our father's eyes turned toward anything other than us at his arrival. I can't bear that that should be the end of all our efforts.”

But just as a bright ray of hope was lit in Saya's breast, Princess Teruhi calmly drew a long-bladed sword from the scabbard at her waist. The winter sun lent the naked blade a cold light. Staring at the cruel steel before her eyes, Saya paled and fell back, only to bump into the wall.

“Why?” she whispered almost inaudibly.

“You asked me to stop the coming of my father. But to me it is the Goddess of Darkness that stands in the way. I don't want her to return. But I cannot disobey my father's command. No one can go against his will, no one except the Goddess of Darkness herself.” Princess Teruhi continued to speak calmly. “That's why I wish you to return to the Goddess before the purification ceremony. Tell her to refuse our divine father's summons. I can trust you to do this, can't I? Because, in return, Toyoashihara will be saved.”

“Do you mean to kill me here?” Saya's lips trembled. The icy blade filled her with terror, death in tangible form, and her entire youthful being rejected it with all its strength. She could not possibly die now. Not in this narrow room, so unprepared, without even seeing Chihaya . . .

Princess Teruhi's pale bare feet stepped closer. “If I could, I would go myself to meet the Goddess. But that path can be trodden only by the people of Darkness.”

“No!” Saya screamed as she watched the Princess raise the sword. In that small room there was no escape, but still she tried to flee, groping along the wall, dodging aside. Seeking help, she called out for Chihaya, for Torihiko. But—

The tip of the sword described a graceful arc as it descended. It was a deft, a masterful stroke. For an instant Saya glimpsed the window and saw the white and distant sky. Then she saw Princess Teruhi's serene and beautiful face.
Even when she kills, she still looks pure,
Saya thought, recalling the shrine maiden in Hashiba so far away. And then she thought no more.

Like a priestess, Princess Teruhi knelt beside Saya's body where it lay upon the floor, watching as the last warmth fled from the dead girl's body. She almost looked as if she were praying. Into the still and silent room, however, a richly colored apparition suddenly floated and immediately became solid. It was Chihaya, still in dancer's robes but now holding the Sword. Gold ornaments swayed on his costume, but his feet were bare, his hair was in disarray, and he was gasping for breath.