Gloria Oliver (34 page)

“He is very well aware of my feelings for him and of the fact I tried to dissuade my father from listening to him. He demands respect, but shows none. So, I give him none. In his pettiness, he ordered that I was to no longer be allowed to leave the castle. Since my father did not contest his command, I have been stuck here ever since. Yet, make no mistake, his hold is not complete. There are those who are not cowed easily by Tsuyu’s wishes; and, occasionally, my father thwarts him, though I think this is more for amusement than spite. And he’s not married to me yet, so at least for now he has no choice but to at least appear to be doing things in my father’s best interest.”

Her face lightened. “But enough of that. Come, let me show you the beauty that lies in our garden. And perhaps, in return, you will dazzle me with tales of gaijin.”

He smiled in answer and spurred her on. He knew the great trust she’d just placed in him by telling him what she had. Perhaps, in time, he might be able to return the honor.

The day went by much too quickly, as Himiko showed him the major sights of the castle. Though they were never alone, they pretended they were as they roamed all around. They spoke of anything and everything, though never straying close to those topics bothering them most.

The next two days passed just as rapidly. Toshi awoke each morning yearning to see her, and felt almost mournful when they had to part at night. He wished now and again that Miko were with him. He craved her opinion of Himiko, and perhaps she could even explain to him the odd feelings moving inside him of late. Waiting to see Lord Asano no longer seemed to be such a terrible burden.

Yet, at the same time, he knew he was only fooling himself. At some point in the near future Himiko would be forced to marry Tsuyu and then be carried off to some far province for safekeeping. He would still be here, waiting for a meeting that might never come.

He glanced up at the sky and realized the sun was much higher than it should have been. Himiko had never been this late before. Had Tsuyu called on her again or had something else gone wrong?

He turned around at a soft tap at the door. Rising to his feet, he hurried toward it even as the panel slid open. He slowed to a stop as he realized it was just Yuko with some tea. Sighing, he sat down as she stepped inside.

“I appreciate the gesture, Yuko-san, but I’m really not thirsty,” he said.

“It’s no trouble, sir. And, really, it would be best if you had some.”

Not wanting to argue, he said nothing as she went ahead and served him. As she leaned forward to set the filled cup before him, she angled her head enough to whisper in his ear.

“Lady Himiko regrets she will be late today. She begs your forgiveness and promises to come for you as soon as possible. She hoped you would enjoy this special tea while you wait.”

He tried to read Yuko’s expression but couldn’t. Why had she whispered? Why hadn’t she just said so?

He reached for his cup and remained silent. With practiced care, he raised the cup to his lips and took a taste while trying to keep his confusion from showing on his face. The vibrant flavor of the expensive tea was shadowed by the worry gnawing at him.

Was he being watched without his knowledge? Could that be why Yuko had whispered her message?

Something had happened between last night and today. Had Tsuyu somehow found out more about him?

With great care, he studied the garden outside, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. He saw nothing. He wasn’t sure if he should be reassured or not. Closing his eyes, he tried to center himself by thinking and feeling nothing except for the taste and warmth of his tea.

Yuko returned to bring lunch, but he ate little. The longer Himiko remained missing, the more difficult he found it to push his worry away.

Restless, but knowing he had no choice but to wait, he left the porch, reentered his room and achingly went through his exercises as precisely as he could. He forced his thoughts to stick only to his lessons, driving all else out. Time, in a sense, stopped for him. There was only the flow of his movements, the careful shifting of muscles, the end of one pattern weaving into the beginning of the next.

Perspiration sprang on his brow, though by his slow pace it would have appeared he wasn’t exerting himself. He pushed on through every step and position Mitsuo had taught him. As he came to the last of them, he discovered he felt oddly relaxed and satisfied.

He turned to pick up the wrapped kettle so he could return to the porch and realized for the first time that the door to his room was open and a number of people were gathered there looking inside.

“Himiko-sama.” He quickly bowed, his face warming with embarrassment. Just how long had she and her maids been sitting there? He stared at them self-consciously, even as Himiko lowered her gaze. A splash of color lit up her cheeks.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you, Toshiro-san,” she said.

“No, no. I was just passing the time.” He felt an excited shiver run through him as she looked up at him with a shy, pleased smirk on her lips.

“Will you walk with me, Toshiro-san?” she said.

“Hai.” He nodded, thrilled she’d come. He was eager for the walk and the privacy it would give them for his questions.

Once they’d gotten underway, he glanced at her, intending to speak. He held back as he caught her studying him shyly from the corner of her eye. As soon as she noticed him looking at her, she turned her eyes away. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be seeing you today,” he said timidly.

“There are things happening, Toshiro-san. Odd things. Perhaps unpleasant things.”

He stared at her, almost bursting with his questions. Her neutral tone held him back.

“There are people loyal to my father, loyal to me, who see Tsuyu’s influence on us to be as evil as I do.

I’ve been informed by them that Tsuyu had an unusual visitor last night,” she said. Her voice was oddly subdued. “One no one but he ever saw. The visitor was never seen entering or leaving the castle. I haven’t been able to find out if he or she is even still within the castle grounds.”

Beneath Himiko’s neutral tone, he thought he caught an undercurrent of confusion and excitement. How could someone enter the castle yet never be seen?

“I’ve spent all this time finding out what little I could, but no one knows anything. I thought perhaps it was a trick of some sort or even an illusion, until Tsuyu came and called on me late this morning. He was more uncouth than usual, which is always a dangerous sign. Most of the time it means something major has gone his way. He mentioned our upcoming marriage in such a way as to imply it no longer held much importance in his life.”

Himiko stopped and turned toward him, her face taut. Her hands were clasped tightly before her. “I have no proof, but I know from the bottom of my soul something has gone terribly wrong for all of us.

There is danger here, horrible danger.” Her eyes sought his. “I gave up on my life long ago, for it shall come to an end by my own hand; but, Toshiro, I fear for you. You should leave this place while you still can. I’m certain you’re in terrible danger.”

“But—” He felt his throat go dry as she reached for his arm, forbidding him to speak. She gave him a hard look that softened as he watched.

“Do not concern yourself about me. My fate was decided long ago. I won’t allow that dog to taint my family. But you, you must leave today!” She resumed walking before the servants got much closer.

“Himiko-sama, I—I appreciate your concern, but I can’t leave. Too high a price has already been paid to get me here. I can’t leave now.” He heard her sigh. With a gentle squeeze, she released his arm. A sad smile met his questioning gaze. He had to strain to hear what she said next.

“Sometimes, the road can be difficult. I’m glad you’ll be here to share mine, even if only for a little while longer.”

Most of the afternoon was spent in silence. What conversation arose was light and fleeting. Their dinner that evening was lavish; and, to his surprise, he found Himiko had even been able to arrange for them some humorous entertainment.

Though he laughed at all the right places, he didn’t really find any of it funny. Himiko’s concern for his safety both flattered him and made him fear. How could he be a threat to Tsuyu? What was so important about a kettle?

Toshi thought of Kirin. He’d not seen the man since the night the latter had warned him of the delicacy of things, so many days ago. Was Kirin taking a risk in trying to gain him an audience? He didn’t understand any of it. He felt totally lost in matters as they stood, having no true idea of the stakes being waged around him and sure there was no way for him to find out.

He found his gaze straying in Himiko’s direction. He watched her smiling profile as she brought up her sleeve to hide a building bubble of laughter. He found it hard to imagine her fierce spirit quenched forever, to picture her as her life’s blood soaked into the tatami floor as the thick red liquid flowed from her throat where a sharp blade would have helped her end her life. Ritual suicide—the ultimate form of protest. But would her father even heed the warning her death would be trying to give him? He shook his head, chilled by the thought.

She was stubborn, very stubborn. All she had been through and endured told him so. Himiko had the will of a battle-tested samurai. In death, would she keep her soul from going on to its next life so she might reap vengeance here? If he were faced with death, could he be as brave as she?

It was late when he finally excused himself and bid Himiko goodnight. Yuko was waiting for him out in the hall, as always, to lead him to the baths and then to his room. For the first time, it occurred to him to wonder if there was more to Yuko’s attentiveness than just her standard duty. He shook his head, not comfortable with such thoughts.

He felt his brow furrow as Tsuyu’s guards didn’t give him their usual scowl as he walked past. They looked through him as if he weren’t there. It chilled his blood. He turned his face away so they wouldn’t see his discomfort. He followed Yuko in silence the rest of the way back.

*

Toshi’s eyes fluttered open, a chill coursing down his spine. A tendril of swirling wind caressed his face as it made the low, burning lanterns flicker for a moment.

He sat up, realizing with growing panic the panels leading out into the garden were open. Three quick, soft
thunks
sounded just behind him. Glancing back, he saw three small needles embedded in his futon and wooden pillow.

With a surge of fear-inspired energy, he threw his blanket in the direction the needles had come from. As the blanket flew across the room, he picked up his wakizashi and the kettle and rolled away from the center of the room.

His skin prickled at the unnatural cold permeating the air. He backed into a corner even as he saw his blanket efficiently cut to tatters. He let the sheath of the wakizashi fall to the ground. His blood turned to ice in his veins as he saw the black figure standing confidently across the room from him. The intruder’s mask’s eye slits were glowing with an eerie red light.

Himiko’s rumors about Tsuyu’s unseen visitor now made perfect sense. The undead ninja had caught up to him at last. This also meant Tsuyu knew everything, and his own fate lay sealed.

Toshi crouched into a fighting stance. The ninja’s eyes flashed, and he dove at him. Toshi prepared to block his thrust as the ninja switched his blade’s direction and drove it under his protective arc.

Without thinking, Toshi brought up his left arm. The ninja’s sword clanged against the kettle, splitting the cloth around it in two. The sound of the impact rang in his ears as the force of the blow tipped him to the right. He hit one of the paper panels and it collapsed under his weight, spilling him out into the hallway.

Struggling to regain his feet, he hesitated a moment as he saw Yuko staring wide-eyed at him from bedding set next to his door. “Yuko, get out of here!”

The girl didn’t react to his command, her gaze moving dazedly between him and the broken end of the ninja’s sword that had fallen point-first into the floor, inches from her foot.

“Yuko, go!”

He didn’t get a chance to see if she went as bright pain flared in his right shoulder. Falling to the floor, he bit back a scream as the pain unexpectedly intensified. He tried to sit up as the smell of freshly spilt blood wove into his nostrils. By the light falling into the hall from his room, he saw the other half of the ninja’s sword lying beside him, its broken end covered with his blood. He looked up to find the ninja’s red eyes staring at him. The ninja leaped.

He felt a rush of cold seep into him as the ninja tumbled with him to the floor, the creature’s sole hand clamped around his neck. No one would save him. No one could possibly reach him in time. The cold spread through him, trying to freeze him in place. The ninja’s eyes burned before him, multiplying as Toshi ran out of air.

Desperate, he ignored the pain in his right shoulder and tried to attack with his wakizashi. The blade cut easily into the ninja’s clothing, but the ninja himself didn’t react in pain. Toshi was forced to release his blade as the ninja used his handless arm to beat at his wrist.

Having no choice, Toshi made his left arm move and smashed the kettle into the ninja’s side. Instantly, the light in the ninja’s eyes went dark and the flow of cold into Toshi’s body momentarily decreased. With rising hope, he brought the kettle back and pressed it against the ninja’s side again. He felt the skeleton’s body shiver, the grip on his throat lessening ever so slightly.

He raised his free hand, his shoulder screaming in pain. He grabbed hold of the ninja’s tunic and pulled.

The hand around his neck was yanked loose as the fleshless body fell over. It didn’t try to rise.

Heaving in great gasps of warm air, Toshi attempted to sit up. His vision spinning, he used his right arm for support so he wouldn’t fall. With some difficulty, he removed the cut cloth from the kettle and used it to try and staunch the flow of blood still oozing from his right shoulder. His brain felt slow, his body numb.