Gloria Oliver (5 page)

Even in his present misery, he couldn’t help but notice the quiet, overbearing presence of the samurai who came to stand by his side. It occurred to his tortured mind to wonder if Asaka was considering throwing him overboard. Perhaps it would prove to be a kindness if he did.

“Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t think this ignorant boy is going to be of any use to us,” the steersman said. “It may take a long time, but I’m sure I can eventually—”

“Silence!” The samurai’s voice roared at Toshi’s side. He ignored it, still trying to stop his heaving stomach, inwardly grateful the shouting hadn’t been directed at him. After another minute, his stomach finally began to settle a little. He closed his eyes, letting the flowing wind cool his face as he tried to disregard the ship’s continuing movements.

“I asked you for our location, boy.” Asaka’s voice bore down on him.

He turned his drawn, pale face away from the rail and stared at the map the samurai held out to him.

Leaning against the bar, not trusting his wobbling legs to remain beneath him, he carefully took the map and then the other tools and dropped to the deck, his back against the railing.

He stared at the swaying map and rechecked his calculations. Again getting the same answer, he moved an unsteady finger to point out their position, which lay near the coast.

Refusing to glance at Asaka as the samurai looked over his shoulder, he held his finger in place. Asaka took the map from him, his only acknowledgment of the information being a barely audible
humph
. Not looking back, the samurai strode to the skeleton manning the ship’s tiller. Toshi tried hard not to care.

The bent skeleton walked up to him. Though he had no liking for the fleshless grin that approached him, he couldn’t find the strength to move from where he was. Never looking directly at him, the retainer took the instruments from his unresisting hands and walked away.

Unable to swallow away the acrid taste still in his mouth, Toshi closed his eyes and sat as unmoving as possible on the rocking deck. He drew his knees up and curled his arms around his legs, the cold seeping into him from the planks. Trying not to moan in his undiminishing misery, he suddenly opened his eyes. He felt someone staring at him. He barely realized it was Asaka before the latter abruptly reached out for his arm. He cringed at the unavoidable touch, a spear of fear shooting through him. Yet, when the fleshless fingers wrapped around his flesh, no trace of the paralyzing touch reached his skin.

“Get up,” Asaka said.

Using the rail and the samurai’s pull on his arm for support, he scrambled to his feet. He swayed with the ship’s tipping movements, but Asaka’s firm grip kept him from falling.

Steering him toward the ladder, Asaka held on to his arm until he’d started to descend. Feeling a little steadier when he reached the main deck, the boy didn’t wait to be led but quickly stumbled his way to the door. He opened it and tripped inside as his stomach began knotting up on him again. Moaning softly in despair at what might come upon him once more, he shivered, feeling the cold radiating from the walls, assaulting his exposed skin from every angle.

Hurrying to his assigned room, he careened toward the wall as the ship abruptly tilted to the left. A steady hand kept him from smacking into it, making him glance behind him in surprise. It was the samurai.

With Asaka’s firm grip back on his arm, he was led the rest of the way to his room.

His prison’s blank, glowing walls glared silently at him as he entered. His sickness washed over him. A dead certainty arose then; and though the unearthly cold of the ship was mercilessly flowing into him, he didn’t run for his blanket when he was released. Instead, he turned around to face the departing samurai.

“Asaka-sama, please. I beg you!” He sank to his knees, his hands palm down against the floor and his eyes closed in supplication. “Release me. Take me home. I can be of no use to you. Please, I don’t belong here!” His voice got caught in his throat. “Please, Lord, I beg you!”

“
Worm
.”

He pressed his forehead against the floor’s glowing planks, shooting cold passing through it as it was already doing through his knees and hands. He shut his eyes tighter with a prayer, his heart quickening as he heard the sound most dreaded by his people everywhere. His acrid breath hung still in his raw throat as the soft click of a katana being slightly drawn from its sheath reverberated in the room’s silence. He waited for the end.

“I will ignore your statement this once. I expect it never to be repeated.” Asaka’s voice was cold.

He heard the katana click back into place.

“The only release you will find if you do is that of your flesh,” the samurai told him. “I will have you, one way or another. If I must kill you and then trap your spirit from rising to its next plane, then so be it. It would mean nothing to me to have you join the ship’s crew permanently and find myself one who has the courage to endure what you do not.” Asaka left, slamming the door behind him.

Horror and shame poured through him, though he couldn’t explain the reason for the latter. Tears ran freely from his closed eyes to fall on the glowing floor as his mind’s eye cruelly provided him with a picture of himself as a fleshless, moving corpse.

Toshi heard a soft knock at the door, but he ignored it. After a moment, he heard the door open behind him and the soft rustling of silk as someone came in. With his back pressed against the corner of the wall, he curled up tighter in his blanket.

“Toshi-san?” It was Miko’s voice.

“Go away.”

He heard the geisha step farther into the room and set a tray on the table. He hoped with that done she would go. Instead, he heard the gentle rustle of her silk kimono move in his direction.

“I want to be alone,” he said. “Please go away, Miko-san.”

He knew she had ignored him as he heard her kneel down at his side. He gripped his blanket with both hands in case she tried to pull it from him.

“What’s wrong, Toshi-kun? Have I somehow offended you?”

He heard the worry in her voice. Demons weren’t supposed to worry over mortals; demons weren’t supposed to be kind. He also noticed how the honorific at the end of his name had changed to a slightly more personal one.

“I’ve brought you more food.”

He groaned as his stomach revolted at the mere mention of the word. The swaying of the ship hadn’t ceased since Asaka had left him.

“Toshi, what’s wrong?” she asked, her worry more apparent. “Talk to me!”

He cringed as he felt her tentatively tug at his blanket. “Nothing is wrong,” he insisted. “Please, just go away.”

“I won’t leave until I find out what’s wrong with you. If you persist in keeping me ignorant, you’ll find I can be a very stubborn woman when I feel like it.” A more forceful tug threatened to remove the blanket from his grasp.

“Please, Miko-san,” he said as he struggled to keep hold.

“No.” The calm answer told him she was, indeed, serious.

“I’m all right. Really,” he said. “I’m just tired and wish to sleep.”

“Let me see you.”

“Miko-san, I told you—”

“Toshiro, do as I say!”

Embarrassed that she was there, that she’d come when he was like this, yet at the same time grateful she seemed to care, he sat up and pulled his blanket away from his face; but he did so with his back to her.

“Now, turn around so I can see you,” she said.

“Please, Miko-san—”

“Do it.”

With a sigh, he slowly turned and stared at the floor. He heard Miko gasp as she noticed his puffed eyes, his pale face and, most embarrassing, the grime covering his shirt. He turned away again, too ashamed of his present condition. “It’s nothing, just like I said. I’ve heard of this before,” he rushed to explain. “Captain Valez told me of it. I’m suffering from seasickness.”

And, yes, the captain had told him of it, but he had dismissed it. On the gaijin’s large ship he had barely felt the waves as they passed beneath. On their ship, there had never been much of a chance for him to feel seasick.

He hoped with all his might that the geisha knew nothing of it. At least, not enough to realize his puffed eyes weren’t a part of it, not enough to realize he’d been crying.

“Oh, yes, that,” she said in a dawning tone. “I’d forgotten. It was so long ago. It will pass, Toshi-kun.”

He tried to keep his stubborn stomach’s disbelief from showing on his face.

“It will pass,” she insisted. “It did for us. Many of us had never been on a ship before we set out with Lord Asaka. We were ill for many days, but we got better. Asaka-sama was the worst afflicted of us all.”

He glanced back at her despite himself, and did so just in time to see her hide her mask’s smile behind her sleeve.

“It was a great blow to his manly image,” she added. “I teased him about it constantly for days.”

He forgot his swirling stomach and puffed eyes for a moment as he stared at Miko in shock. “And he didn’t kill you?”

“Oh, my goodness, no.” She swept the thought away with her sleeve. “He keeps me around for just this sort of thing. It helps keep him humble. He’s told me many a time I’m unlike any woman he has ever known. I like to think he means it as a compliment.”

He shook his head and turned away, somehow doubting Asaka would ever be capable of complimenting anyone.

“I’ll go find some clothes for you so yours can be washed,” Miko said. “Will you try sipping some tea while I’m gone? It might soothe your stomach a little.”

He remained where he was until she had gone. He was grateful she would be getting him some clean clothes, but what he craved was a bath. Forcing himself to get up, he made his way to the small table across the room. Ignoring the food waiting there and the faint scent that made his stomach flip, he poured a half-cup of tea. He retreated back to his corner and sipped as he waited for the geisha to return.

His first sip landed like a rock in his stomach. As it cramped, he forced himself to take another. Trying to keep both of them down, he took a third and a fourth. He clamped his mouth shut, expecting the worst, but his stomach quieted. He’d finished off most of his tea by the time Miko returned.

“These will be a little large on you, Toshi-kun.” She set the folded clothes down by his side. “If you like, I might be able to prepare some hot water later for you to use to clean yourself.”

“I would appreciate that, Miko-san.” He hoped she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

Nodding, the geisha sat down. “Aren’t you going to get undressed?”

He felt his cheeks grow warm as her blue-lit eyes flashed in his direction. “Well, yes. I mean—”

“Toshi-san, you’re modest. What a delight in a boy!” Sweet laughter momentarily filled the air. “Oh, but I’ve forgotten, haven’t I? You’re almost a man,” she teased. “Which makes this even a rarer find.”

Miko’s ridicule and light, candid laughter pleased and embarrassed him at the same time. He had never undressed before a woman before, let alone a demon. With Master Shun’s long work hours, it was rare for him to have more than a few minutes at the communal baths before it was time for the establishment to close. He’d not had many occasions to be nude before others. Red-faced, he turned his back on her and got out of his soiled clothes. He threw his blue and brown cotton shirt and pants into a small pile and grabbed the clean clothes at his side. He put on the thin undercoat and then reached for the outer garment. The soft silk felt good in his hands as he unfolded the man’s kimono and started to put it on. He hesitated for a moment as he noticed the three moon crests emblazoned on the garment’s sleeve.

“Miko-san, should I really be wearing this?” He didn’t look at her. “I realize Asaka-sama owns me now, but I’m not really a part of his household.”

“Do not worry. It’s all right. Lord Asaka has approved of this. He has told me he believes you can do what must be done. He gave his permission for you to wear his clothes.”

Toshi stopped in the midst of tying the kimono’s sash. “
His
clothes?” He heard Miko’s silver bells ring as she tried to restrain her amusement at his shock.

“Won’t you hurry and finish dressing?” she said, laughter still coloring her voice. “I can’t wait to see how you look in them.”

As she had warned him, the clothes were too big for him. Though the sleeves were longer than his arms, he found he didn’t mind, since it would help him keep warm. The same thought occurred to him regarding his feet.

“Oh, my, how handsome you look.” Miko laughed lightly, her soft voice filling the room, as she bade him turn in a full circle before her.

He felt like a child playing dress-up. “Miko-san, can … can Asaka-sama really turn me into one of you?”

The geisha’s laughter died. She came closer and asked him to sit down. “Yes, Toshi-kun, I think he could,” she confided. “It’s my belief that it’s only because of him we’re all still here, that through his will, and his will alone, he enabled us to return from death so we might complete our journey.”

He paid little attention to the last, a fearful shiver running through him as the validity of the samurai’s threat was confirmed. “How did you all … die?”

“Would you believe that to this day we are not sure?” she said. “We know it happened late one night as most of us were sleeping. It’s thought perhaps we unknowingly drifted into a current and it forced us onto a reef, but no one really knows.

“I awakened to the noise of water seeping into my room. Foolishly, I opened my door to find out why and was swept against a wall by the water that rushed in like a tsunami. I hit my head and went unconscious. It wasn’t long after that I drowned.”

Miko turned her face from him, making him feel guilty for having asked.

“I’m sorry, Miko-san. I hadn’t meant to—”

“It’s all right, Toshi-kun. It all happened a very long time ago. It no longer matters.” Her tone belied her words. “What matters is that we have you now and, therefore, have a chance to succeed in our mission.”

Feeling his stomach knot from something other than seasickness, he curled his blankets more snuggly around him.