The Dark Divide (59 page)

Trása had no idea how Kiba normally reacted to such a command, so she stood tall, pushed her ears forward and curled her lip in a silent growl. It seemed to be enough for the distracted
Konketsu
magician. Besides, Chishihero had no interest in these prisoners. She was more interested in her own problems, and they began and ended with the two
Youkai
who had the temerity to fall into her realm.

Her alert and attentive stance must have been enough like Kiba’s behaviour not to arouse Chishihero’s suspicions. Trása remained standing at guard as the women mounted their horses — no mean feat wearing a kimono — and turned their horses west for the Tanabe compound and the Empresses awaiting them there.

CHAPTER 60

Even though he knew he wasn’t really going to kill himself, Ren still felt the weight of expectation as he walked up the long corridor of troops lining the path to the podium where the Empresses waited, along with the Lady Delphine, Chishihero and a tall, drop-dead gorgeous blonde who he supposed was the true envoy — the woman come to take the place of Wakiko, who no longer wanted anything to do with the
Matrarchaí
and the
Matrarchaí’s
plans for her children. There was no sign of Wakiko, but Ren didn’t worry about that. She had warned them Delphine would forbid her from attending the ceremony. She was around somewhere, no doubt, waiting in the wings to spirit her daughters out of the mêlée when the fun started.

Troops from both clans lined the path, Tanabe on one side, Ikushima on the other. Both were armed to the teeth, which Ren thought an insane idea, even if it did play into his plans for this evening. Each of the samurai held a flaming torch, lighting the path to his doom, filling the cold, still air with the acrid smell of burning oil.

The podium seemed a long way away.

Trása and the lesser
Youkai
had taken care of Namito earlier, before she left to accompany Chishihero to the rift disguised as the mastiff, Kiba, and the rest of the Ikushima left the compound
in the Empresses’ procession. Namito was magically bound and gagged, so he couldn’t escape and raise the alarm. It remained to be seen what the
Daimyo
would do later, when he realised he’d been duped, but that was something else Ren couldn’t afford to worry about now. He had a deal with Wakiko and a chance to learn how they opened rifts in this realm — not to mention a chance to thwart the plans of the
Matrarchaí
and what they would do to Teagan and Isleen, if Delphine unlocked the
Comhroinn
and gave the two little girls the benefit of her knowledge, memories and prejudices, particularly against the
Youkai
.

Once Namito was taken care of, Ren spent quite some time — with Kazusa’s help — dressing in her brother’s ceremonial armour. At sunset he had ridden out of
Shin Bungo
at the head of the Ikushima column, his head held high. He was, after all, posing as Namito who was off to restore the family’s honour by disembowelling himself in a public spectacle that made Ren’s blood run cold, just thinking about it.

Kazusa was the only member of the Ikushima clan who realised what was going on, and she had joined in the deception with enthusiasm. She was still young enough to question the mores of the adults around her, and willing to toss aside incomprehensible tradition when she could see the benefit. As Ren approached the podium, he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, standing with Aoi and Masuyo on the left of the dais, their faces stoic and implacable. They believed Namito’s sacrifice would restore their family fortunes and would do nothing to interfere with that process.

Death before dishonour. Literally.

Ren thought they were all insane. Every last one of them.

Trása had come to check on him before she left, and to make sure he knew what he had to do. She was right to be worried. Delphine could not be defeated by mundane means. If it were that
simple, Wakiko could have hired a ninja assassin to garrotte her as she stepped through the rift. Delphine needed to be defeated with magic, and only Ren — even Trása readily agreed — was strong enough to do it without the benefit of the folding magic the
Konketsu
used in this realm to wield their spells.

As they’d explained what he had to do, Ren had tried not to let his doubts show. It was clear everyone was relying on him to save the day, so he wasn’t sure how to tell them he didn’t think he was the right person for the job — especially as he was the
only
person for the job. Wakiko kept insisting on that. It had to be Ren who faced down Delphine. She was too strong for anybody else in this realm. She had to be killed. Only someone like Ren, an Undivided who had survived the
Lughnasadh
power transfer, wielding a blade forged from
airgead sídhe
, was strong enough to take her down. Ren was surprised. Wakiko spoke as if it had happened before, but when he tried to question her, she changed the subject. She planned dealing with Chishihero and the replacement guardian for Isleen and Teagan that Delphine was bringing to this realm. The new envoy would not be a problem, Wakiko promised. She was human and, if need be, she could be eliminated by other humans.

Trása had shooed Kazusa out and taken over tying the laces on Ren’s new armour. It felt strange wearing something so intricate, that on closer inspection turned out to be made from bamboo. Ren had tried on a suit of medieval armour once, when he was on location with Kiva. The historical consultant on set didn’t mind the questions of an inquisitive eleven-year-old boy. This Japanese armour was much lighter. It was easier to move in it too, which made sense given how fond the Japanese were of martial arts that required hand-to-hand fighting. Only the chest plate was made from a single, solid piece of metal embellished with the Ikushima family
kamon
, while the other vulnerable parts of the body, like the neck and the arms, were protected by
scores of smaller pieces of metal tied together with blue and gold string, to match the Ikushima colours proudly hanging from the walls outside the compound.

Had he been serious about committing
Seppuku
in front of the Empresses, the armour would come off, he would be allowed a last meal, and have one of his trusted samurai standing by to decapitate him, once he’d opened his belly. Of course, if everything went according to plan, things wouldn’t go that far. Ren needed to get close to Delphine. Once she was dead, he fully expected all hell to break loose.

Trása stood back and admired her handiwork.

‘How do I look?’ Ren asked, picking up the
kabuto
and holding it by his side.

She eyed him up and down for a moment and then nodded. ‘You’re taller than Namito, but you should pass muster if nobody looks too closely.’

‘I worry about plans that rely on nobody looking too closely.’

Trása smiled and stepped closer to tie off one of the shoulder cords that had worked itself loose. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said.

‘I’m not sure I can do this, Trása. I’ve never killed anybody before.’

‘Delphine is responsible for the murder of hundreds of thousands of
Youkai
,’ she reminded him. ‘In this realm and plenty of others, besides. If that doesn’t help, think about this — if you
don’t
kill her, she will unlock the
Comhroinn
and that will not only give Teagan and Isleen the power to kill us, it will make them
want
to do it, too. I’m guessing it’ll be easier to kill one scary-evil old woman nobody in this realm really cares about than two doe-eyed little girls everyone worships as their divine rulers.’

She was standing awfully close as she tied up the last of his armour. He was sure she was making perfectly good sense but it was hard to concentrate. Her hair smelled like summer — the
same as it had that time in the old warehouse back in Dublin, when she’d been trying to set him up on a murder charge so he would be sent to gaol and kept out of harm’s way. It was a monstrous plan, really, but he’d softened his animosity toward her the past few weeks. He understood Trása better now. He’d seen how she cared for the lesser
Youkai
of this realm who so needed a protector. Trása desperately wanted to belong somewhere. She didn’t even seem to mind where. She was a mongrel caught between being
sídhe
and being human, and when the human world had rejected her, she turned to her Faerie family, and did whatever she must to win the approval of Marcroy Tarth, and through him, the rest of the
Tuatha Dé Danann
. Ren wasn’t sure that in her place he might not have done the exactly same thing. Maybe even worse.

Trása had smiled up at him and then, just as he was wondering if he could get away with kissing those tantalisingly close lips, she rose up on her toes and kissed him on the mouth.

Ren thought he might die. He slid his arms around her and pulled her closer. Just as he was thinking he might become lost in the taste of her, she yelped suddenly and pulled away from him.

She looked up at him, rubbing her back with a rueful smile. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean … Your armour scratched me.’

‘It’s okay,’ he said, relieved she had a reason for jumping out of his embrace like she’d been burned. He’d been afraid she yelped like that when it occurred to her she was kissing Ren and not his brother.

Trása smiled at him again, a little shyly, which Ren found odd. After all, she’d just kissed him like a long-lost lover. ‘You can do this, Ren.’

He nodded and lifted Namito’s helmet onto his head. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I think I’d rather you kept calling me Rónán.’

Eventually, sweating inside the armour despite the chilly evening air, his vision limited by the
kabuto
helmet, Rónán reached the podium, where he knelt and placed his forehead on the ground as Kazusa warned him he must. It was strange, but if he thought of himself as Rónán, he felt he had the courage to do this thing.

Ren wouldn’t do it. Ren Kavanagh was the untested, cosseted and privileged son of a movie star — a private school boy with a credit card and a therapist. Rónán, on the other hand, was one half of the Undivided.

Rónán, not Ren, was the one compelled to protect the Faerie.

Rónán, not Ren, had the balls to kill someone when the occasion called for it.

‘You may rise,’ the Empresses said in unison.

Rónán did as they commanded, keeping his head bowed. Although the
kabuto
covered most of his face, it wouldn’t hide it enough to fool anybody if they got a good look at him.

He glanced up from the shadow of the helmet, fixing his eyes on Delphine. She looked vaguely familiar, but other than that — and her surprisingly modern blonde bob — she seemed unremarkable.

And she was holding a protective magical shield around herself.

It was strange that he could sense it. She wasn’t trying to hide it. Was it for his benefit? Or for the benefit of the
Youkai
visitors to this realm that Chishihero had undoubtedly already warned her about?

It seemed she was expecting an attack.

‘The Tanabe are to be granted dominion over all the Ikushima lands,’ Isleen announced to the gathering, her small voice ringing out on the still night air. ‘The factory that makes fireworks will be relocated to somewhere more isolated, for the safety of our magical forests. The lands currently held by the Ikushima are
hereby granted to the Tanabe clan, as a reward for their faithful service.’

‘For not notifying us immediately,’ Teagan added, ‘of the arrival of the
Matrarchaí
envoy — for trying to hide their presence and gain personal advantage from an envoy to the Imperial court, Namito of the Ikushima is required to publicly commit
Seppuku
, upon which time, and with his blood, he will wash away this dreadful stain on his family’s honour. Do you willingly offer your life to us,
Daimyo
of the Ikushima clan?’

Before Rónán could say anything, Delphine leaned forward and asked Teagan something he couldn’t hear. The little girl nodded and then glanced around. ‘Where is our honoured envoy?’

The twins had obviously not been informed that Rónán and Trása were imposters.

Nobody answered the little Empress. She glanced at her sister and then at Delphine. ‘Perhaps Renkavana is waiting for you at the
rifuto
stones, my lady?’

Delphine’s expression, when she heard Ren’s name, was quite unexpected. She looked genuinely surprised. ‘Ren Kavanaugh? Did you say the envoy’s name was Ren Kavanaugh?’

‘Surely you know that?’ Isleen said, looking confused.

Delphine looked up, her eyes scanning the crowd.
She knows my name
, Rónán realised, wondering how that could be.
She’s heard of Ren Kavanaugh.

It was the last thing Rónán expected. Was it possible that Delphine came from, or had passed through, the reality he’d just left?

And if she knew the way back there, perhaps it wasn’t such a bright idea to kill her.

No sooner than the thought occurred to Rónán than the matter was taken out of his hands as a horse galloped down the corridor formed by the two lines of torch-bearing samurai.
Rónán turned to find Namito bearing down on him,
katana
waving, shouting something about defiling the honour of the Ikushima.

Chaos erupted as the samurai lining the path realised their
Daimyo
was not standing before the Empresses on the podium, ready to restore their honour with his life, but galloping past them, dressed in his undergarments. The Tanabe samurai reacted predictably enough to the fury of the Ikushima troops, mistaking Namito’s mad dash toward the podium as an attack on the Empresses. Realising that whatever the lesser
Youkai
had done to secure Namito, it hadn’t been sufficient, Rónán turned back to face Delphine as the metallic ringing of scores of swords were unsheathed behind him. The
Matrarchaí
doyen took barely a fraction of a second to realise what was going on and turned her attention to Rónán.