Dragon Sword and Wind Child (6 page)

It was unusual for Otohiko to drink, but when he came home that night and watched Saya hold up a half-sewn kimono for him to see, he asked for some sake. Through the head chieftain, the Prince had bestowed such riches on his house that the old couple could never use them all. It was so sudden that they could barely believe it.

“Chief Azusahiko told me that there's no greater joy than a dutiful daughter.” Otohiko laughed as he raised his sake cup. “He's probably regretting the day he foisted that little monkey of a girl he found in the mountains on me, and wishing he had taken her himself. You weren't a very pretty sight then, you know. Black from head to foot, just skin and bones wrapped in a few rags, two big eyes staring out from a thicket of bamboo grass.”

Saya laughed wryly. “Just like a spawn of the Ground Spiders. Why did you take me in?”

Otohiko looked at her from under his bushy gray brows. “Who wouldn't reach out to help a little child wandering lost and alone, no matter whose child she was? It would be inhuman not to. Saya, I know you and your friends call those people ‘Ground Spiders,' but they belong to Toyoashihara just like us, even though we were separated after the God of Light appeared.”

“I know,” Saya replied in a small voice. She felt her chest constrict. She wanted to thank them both, to apologize for leaving without properly returning their kindness. But she could not find the right words.

“Father . . .”

As if he had guessed her thoughts, he smiled, the wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “You're our child. You're a child of Hashiba. I'm proud of you. So you should be proud, too, wherever you go, to Mahoroba or anywhere else.”

SAYA
walked along the river for one last look. Tomorrow she would leave. It was a clear, early summer evening before the start of the long rainy season. The willows with their leaves unfurled swayed in the wind and frogs croaked. The breeze already smelled of summer, heavy with the fragrance of deep green leaves and the scent of grass from the warm fields. The last rays of the sun rested on the tips of the mountains, and downstream the water gleamed red where it reflected the sky. Standing on the stones at the edge of the water with not a soul in sight, Saya strained to see the river's end.

How often she had played here; how often she had dreamed of places unknown, people unknown, gods unknown. On little leaf boats she had set her dreams sailing, never once thinking that she would leave this village. Mahoroba was said to lie far to the west of the end of the river. She had never before thought of its location in relation to her village. She had only imagined a misty palace somewhere far away in the direction she would now journey.

She gave a small sigh and removed the magatama on its cord from around her neck. The sky-blue stone, warmed by her skin, seemed to breathe. She laid it in her right hand, as she had done so often, against the birthmark on her palm. She found it difficult to believe a baby could be born with this squeezed in its tiny fist. But she could not deny its beauty. How proud she would have been if only it had been a betrothal gift.

“I'll throw it away.”

She had already made up her mind. That was why she had come to the river. She would return the Water Maiden's stone to the water. She did not need it. She could not carry this shadow with her if she was to become a handmaiden at Mahoroba. She must bury all connections to the people of Darkness here.

Grasping the magatama in her right hand, she raised her arm.
Like
this, as far as I can!
she thought.

But she could not throw it. It was almost as if someone was holding back her hand. She faltered in stunned surprise, and then glanced furtively around as if she had done something wrong.

Dusk was beginning to creep along the river. Her sharp eyes detected a figure coming down the path from the bank farther upstream. She hurriedly concealed the magatama in her sleeve. She would have been ashamed to have someone discover her trying to throw it away. The figure seemed to be approaching her.
Who can it be at this time
of day?
she wondered, peering intently. It was not difficult to guess. Although the person's face was hidden in the twilight, the outline was unmistakable: the hair piled high; the long skirt reaching to the ankles, which no ordinary villagers wore; the thick short figure, shoulders rounded by middle age. It was the shrine maiden, keeper of the mirror. Saya bowed hastily.

“Good evening,” she said, puzzled. She had never seen the shrine maiden walking alone. If that was true of the daytime, how much stranger was it to see her walking like this at dusk.

The shrine maiden halted and looked down at Saya haughtily. She was always like that, even looking scornfully upon the head chieftain at times, but now her gaze was particularly frigid. And the words she spoke took Saya by surprise. “I am no longer the shrine maiden. I have returned the mirror.” An icy fury filled her voice. Saya shuddered and stared at her in astonishment.

“So suddenly? But why? You're the only shrine maiden in the village.”

Standing stiffly erect as if the hair piled on the top of her head would fall should she bend, the woman replied, “Because you, Saya, received Prince Tsukishiro. It was you who made obeisance before him, you who offered the sake, you who received his ritual words of greeting, and you who were chosen as handmaiden. And I? When the Prince of Light came to our village, I, the keeper of the mirror, was unable even to attain his presence, and received not one word of acknowledgment. How could I remain meekly guarding the mirror after that?” Without thinking, Saya took a step backward. The shrine maiden continued. “I'm leaving this land. But before you go to Mahoroba, there is something I want to tell you.” She took a deep breath and suddenly her expression changed drastically. Her eyes dilated and her mouth split grotesquely wide. Unaware that the woman's face was now filled with murder, Saya stared fixated with horror, thinking that she was undergoing some strange transformation.

The shrine maiden shrieked as one possessed, “You are evil! You are of the Darkness! Did you think I did not know? How cleverly you have tried to deceive Prince Tsukishiro. Do you think that I will surrender you to him? Do you think that I will let you go?”

With surprising speed, she drew a dagger from inside her robe. The fading light glowed dull red along the short blade.

“I'll send you back to the Darkness here and now!”

Saya dodged instinctively, but was too dazed to comprehend that she was confronted with death. It was only when she saw her sleeve hanging in tatters, slashed where the knife had caught it, that she was jolted to her senses and felt terror sweep through her like a wave of nausea.

“Stop! Please! I serve the Light!”

The shrine maiden shrieked in a voice like grinding metal, “Silence! How dare you make such a claim?”

“But it's true! I serve the Light with all my heart,” Saya cried as she dodged the approaching blade once again. Then, turning, she began to run. The older woman's feet were slow and Saya should have outdistanced her with ease, but she tripped on a rock and fell hard on the sharp gravel. She had no time, however, to feel any pain. The woman was already upon her. The black silhouette of her demonic form towered above Saya as she brought the blade down with a triumphant cry.

She'll kill me!
thought Saya. Just as she closed her eyes, a piercing scream rent the air. Realizing that the voice was not her own, she opened her eyes in surprise to see the shrine maiden cowering in fear, shielding her face with her arms. Two black shapes swooped down upon her, attacking repeatedly. Blood spurted from her arm, and once again the woman screamed. Her cry mingled with the sound of beating wings. Birds. She was being attacked by two crows.

The woman swung her dagger, but struck only empty air. The crows were swift and cruel. Saya saw blood dripping from one eye in her contorted face. Her screams and gasps grew fainter, gradually dwindling into sobs. Finally, exhausted, she sank to the ground and lay still, clutching her head in her hands. Only her shoulders moved, rising and falling with each ragged breath.

Through all of this, Saya had not moved from where she had fallen. The blood on the stones lost its color in the twilight, looking like a black stain. She felt sick. Her ears rang, and she thought she would faint if she tried to stand. The crows, which had stopped attacking as soon as the shrine maiden quit struggling, settled on a large round rock a slight distance from Saya, where they began preening themselves as if nothing had happened.

They stole surreptitious glances at her from their crafty, gleaming eyes while she stared back at them. Satisfied with their appearance, they flapped their wings and sharpened their beaks on the rock. Then one of them calmly croaked, “Sa-ya . . .”

“Stu-pid . . .” the other added.

Saya's mouth dropped open in amazement. Just then, another voice came from behind her.

“Are you still too scared to move?”

There, small and slight, stood Torihiko. He seemed to have materialized out of thin air. He wore the same old black clothes, and his uncombed hair was tied in a careless knot.

“Are you all right?” He peered into her face, his hands behind his back. He wore an expression of feigned innocence and did not look in the least concerned.

Saya said hoarsely, “What are those?”

Torihiko eyed the crows. “Ah, you mean my birds. This is Big Black and that one is Little Black.”

Then, leaping from stone to stone, he went over to the cringing woman and gazed down at her. “Why don't you hurry home, lady, and take care of those wounds? I'm so sorry that I cannot escort you. But you tried to kill Saya, you see?”

“Ohhh!” The shrine maiden groaned loudly and staggered to her feet, one hand pressed tightly to her eye. Her hair had long since fallen into complete disarray.

“So! Spawn of evil. You have shown your true self,” she hissed, gasping for breath. “Just wait. Princess Teruhi will . . .”

“You sent the mirror back, didn't you? So how will you report this?” Torihiko said calmly.

“Just–just remember. You can't fool Princess Teruhi. She knows who the new handmaiden is. I already sent her a full report. She'll—”

“Do you intend to keep on talking?” Torihiko interrupted impatiently. “I would think it would be rather inconvenient to lose your other eye as well.”

There was something in his offhand manner that sent shivers up Saya's spine. The woman closed her mouth sharply and, hurrying off, was swallowed by the twilight.

Saya finally brushed the hair from her face. “She'll be blind in one eye for the rest of her life,” she said accusingly.

“What difference does it make if you're about to die anyway,” Torihiko said, unconcerned. “She obviously came to the river with the intention of killing herself. But, judging by the amount of energy she had just now, she may be so angry that she'll change her mind.”

He spoke as casually as if talking about the weather. Gazing at him, Saya wondered if this was a characteristic of the people of Darkness or just a quirk of his personality.

She sighed. “I thought you had already gone. What about the others?”

“They left. Only I stayed. Because I was a little worried, you know.”

He grasped a wooden box that dangled on a cord from his belt. The crows immediately flew to him, landing on his shoulders and cocking their heads in anticipation. Opening the lid he took out some finely cut shreds of dried meat and fed the crows by turns.

“And I was right, wasn't I? I hear you're going to Mahoroba?”

“That's right,” Saya murmured, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. “Why do you never learn? You always drive yourself into a corner. You're going to tag along after Prince Tsukishiro just for the sake of his pretty face.”

“Leave me alone! It's none of your business!” Saya spoke sharply, blushing deeply. “That–that isn't it at all. I love the Light. I want to live under the sun. That's why I accepted the chance to be his handmaiden. But someone like you would never understand!”

Torihiko folded his arms across his chest, the two solemn-faced crows perched one on either shoulder. “Now, take Princess Teruhi; she's got that same pretty face. But she's dreaded by everyone. She'll be more than you can handle. She may look young, but she's older than your great-great-grandmother. And that's not all. There are bound to be at least fifty thousand or so ladies like the woman who was just here. Are you sure you still want to go? Saya, you're throwing yourself into the midst of your enemies, where there'll be no one to help you, no one to comfort you.”

Without replying, Saya stood up and brushed the dirt from her clothes. Blood was oozing from a scrape on her knee. Her mother would surely scold her. Well, no matter. It would not show. From tomorrow, she would be wearing a long skirt.

“I can't turn back now,” she said simply. “No matter what happens, I have to find out who I am. I couldn't stay here in the village any longer without knowing the answer. I'll go to Mahoroba and see what happens. If I suffer for it, it will have been my own choice. You can do whatever you like; I won't interfere. So let me do as I please.”

“Stu-pid . . .”

“Sa-ya . . .” The crows croaked as if mocking her.

She looked at them indignantly. “Get rid of those birds, will you.”

“But they're clever,” Torihiko said, laughter in his voice. “They're trying to remember your name.”

After a slight pause, Saya said, “Thank you for rescuing me. From here on, I'll take care of myself.”

“Stubborn old mule,” Torihiko murmured and shrugged his shoulders.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He looked up at her affectionately, but he spoke like an adult. “I see that I can't change your mind, so there's no point in saying anything more. Just remember: it was your own choice. Because you're sure to start doubting once you reach Mahoroba.”