“I accidentally knocked it out of the air,” Hachiro guiltily admitted. “I did not mean to harm it.”
I’ll take a closer look.
She tried to slip inside the critter, not entirely sure she could—ah, she could. She was in. Its mind was afire with terror, pain, and confusion.
Shh, it’s okay,
she told it, mind to mind.
Let me have the pain, I need to know—Oh, ouch.
She’d forgotten what pain was like, the way it could be both sharp and dull. Nothing felt out of place, no bones broken so badly they were out of alignment, but it did feel as if its entire side was a giant bruise and its head throbbed in a disorienting manner. Wait, not its. His.
She popped out to say,
I’ll try. Keep him still.
There was hardly any energy to be found, but she found enough. She pulled it where healing was needed, around the squirrel’s head and side. When he started struggling, trying to get away from Hachiro’s hands, she assumed he was feeling better.
She sneaked back in to be certain.
In the corner of his own mind, so to speak, the squirrel was recovering. The confusion and pain had lifted and he mentally chattered at her in that squirrel way which always seemed to mean, “This is my territory, go away.”
I’m leaving, I’m leaving.
Out again.
He’ll be fine.
Hachiro beamed at her. “I will remember this kindness!” He shuffled off with the critter in hand.
He’s a strange one,
she commented to Aito.
Chapter Three
Yuki
G
oing outside to pee in the middle of a cold night was never pleasant. When it required leaving a warm and comfortable position, it was downright painful. Regretfully detangling himself from Akakiba, Yuki slipped out as quietly as possible. The cold was incentive enough to be quick, but he was also concerned about lurking danger. His fingers darted up, double-checking he wore the charm.
Back inside, he re-blocked the door with a handy piece of hard wood. A demon could get through walls, but any that tried to materialize in a small room with three charm-protected men who were armed with glyphed weapons would die in short order. Akakiba was such a light sleeper he could dispatch any intruder before either Yuki or Jien had time to notice anything was amiss.
Wait. The shack’s ill-fitted door leaked enough moonlight for eyes to distinguish objects and people as distinct shadows, enough for Yuki to see Akakiba hadn’t so much as twitched at his exit and return. He was usually much more sensitive to noise than that.
Suspicious. Crouching, Yuki poked Akakiba’s cheek with a finger and tried to copy Jien’s baiting tone. “Heyy, Aki.”
No “don’t call me that” reply arose.
Yuki turned and poked the other man present. “Jien, wake up!”
“Whuh?”
“Akakiba left his body.”
“He what? Oh, the spirit thing?” Jien sat up, yawning. “Nothing we can do but wait for him to come back.”
“He went looking for the demon,” Yuki said glumly, watching Akakiba’s too-still body. “He could be in trouble right now.”
“He probably is. But he’ll probably get out of it fine, too.”
Neither of them made a move to lay back down. They could sleep after Akakiba was back safely; in the meantime, they’d watch over his body.
A glowing golden fox suddenly materialized and head-butted Akakiba’s body. Yuki jumped, but didn’t go for his sword. He recognized that spirit.
Charm
, Akakiba said as he pawed at his own body,
Get the charm off!
Something else came in. Akakiba bounced out of the way, turning round to snarl at it. Ah, that had to be the local troublemaking demon. Jien took a wild stab at it, handling his spear awkwardly in the cramped space.
Yuki snatched the charm. “It’s off!”
As Akakiba dove inside his body, Yuki immediately put the charm back on for fear the demon might try to follow him in.
Akakiba rolled to his feet sword in hand. “Where is it?” he snarled.
“Gone,” Jien said, looking out the door. “I don’t think it likes my spear.”
That didn’t stop Akakiba from doing a circuit of the area, scowling at shadows as if to frighten them into revealing where the demon had gone.
“Curse it,” Akakiba said as they went back inside, closing and blocking the door. “We could have had it and been done with this.”
“At least we know who’s the best bait now.” Jien’s voice sounded like he was grinning, though the grin itself was lost to the dark.
Akakiba grunted. “The orphan girl told it to kill me. I doubt she understood who I was.”
“The girl? Is she bonded to it? Aito says he has four familiars because they’re weak ones. Someone with only one must have a strong one.”
“Could be. She calls it ‘Mother’ and seems to think it’s a ghost.”
“Not possible,” Jien protested. “By definition, a ghost is a spirit that’s forgotten it’s a spirit and thinks it’s human instead.”
“She wouldn’t know that.”
Yuki’s thoughts were going in another direction. He interrupted the ongoing conversation with, “Why is it killing children, if it obeys her?”
Akakiba said, “She’s an orphan who doesn’t get along with the other children. They must be cruel to her. It’s protecting her.” He lay back down and rolled on his side to face the wall. “We might as well wait until morning. She’s in no danger from it, and it knows now it can’t take us on.”
Reaching out, Yuki slapped the back of Akakiba’s head.
“I said I wouldn’t shift, and I didn’t,” Akakiba said.
“You also said you’d quit leaving me behind.”
“You couldn’t have come, even if you’d approved.”
“It’s the principle of the thing. You can’t go on acting like you’re alone and nobody would care if you disappeared. It’s not fair to us. Right, Jien?”
“Yeah, what he said,” Jien said cheerfully. “You’re really going to regret it when Sanae finds out.”
Within moments of lying down on the ground, Yuki felt his body begin to shiver. Traipsing outside hadn’t helped his temperature. The cold wasn’t so bad he couldn’t have endured it, but why waste a perfect excuse?
He poked Akakiba between the shoulder blades with an insistent finger. “Turn around.”
When Akakiba did, making a noise that seemed to invite an explanation, Yuki snuggled up to his chest as if it were completely normal behavior. After a beat, Akakiba moved to accommodate him and settled his chin in his hair.
“Is that how you express anger at people, Yuki?” Jien inquired.
Oh, right. The fact they weren’t alone had somehow slipped his mind. Akakiba’s antisocial tendencies must be rubbing off on him because his first impulse was to kick Jien. He refrained, merely said, “I don’t have any moral high ground. I was reckless, too, today. I’m surprised you two didn’t say anything about it.”
“You weren’t reckless,” Akakiba said into his hair. “You’re aware you’re the best swimmer among the three of us. Your decision was logical.”
Yuki couldn’t enjoy the compliment because it wasn’t strictly true. “Logic had nothing to do with my decision. I’m unafraid of water, even when I should be. I’m not certain I can judge if a situation is too dangerous for me.”
“Your dragon’s legacy. Very well. I’ll sit on you next time you look about to jump off a cliff.”
“Hey, I’m not—”
“Some of us,” Jien grumbled, “would like to sleep now. Have your heart-to-heart conversation another time.”
Yuki slept well, and didn’t feel cold again.
Or not until dawn. The trek to the orphan girl’s home was a miserable one because the sea wind whipped them with icy lashes.
Jien went to announce himself while Akakiba and Yuki hung back out of view in an effort not to frighten the girl too badly.
“Hello?” Jien called out. “I’m Jien the monk. Can I talk to you for a moment? Just talking; I promise.”
The door moved and half a girl appeared in the opening. She muttered something, eyes fixed on her feet.
“Eh? I can’t hear you.” Jien leaned down and the girl whispered something in his ear. Her hand went up, closed about Jien’s charm, and yanked it off.
“Get him!” she cried.
A shadow boiled out of the house’s relative darkness and toward Jien’s face.
In hindsight, perhaps the girl was smarter than they were. Because demons hated sunlight and made themselves scarce after sunrise, they’d assumed this demon was unlikely to appear in daylight unless the need was dire. But if the house didn’t have any uncovered windows, a demon could be reasonably comfortable inside. It could, for example, lurk in ambush for anyone foolish enough to come knocking.
After moments of wild flailing, Jien started moving uphill, towards the cliff. The girl followed.
“I don’t think it’s been the demon’s idea to attack the other children,” Akakiba said. “The girl’s the danger.”
Yuki chewed his lip. “Can Jien fight it out? I still haven’t learned how to perform an exorcism.” He was beginning to regret it, too. For something supposedly rarely seen, possession was a surprisingly common occurrence lately.
“If he’s capable of expelling it, I’ll slay it as it exits. If he can’t get it out before they get too close to the edge, I’ll grab him and Aito will force it out later. Same ending, either way.”
“You’re not taking this very seriously!”
“He’ll be fine. It’s very unpleasant, but not dangerous in the short term. He might even learn some caution. He could have hidden the charm under his clothes.”
There was no time to appreciate Mr. I-see-nothing-wrong-with-abandoning-my-body-without-telling-anyone talking about caution. “It might be more than a little dangerous if they go off the cliff! He could hit his head and sink.”
“We’ll catch him before then.”
The wind’s howl covered any noise their approach made. Once they got nearer the water, the noise of crashing waves teamed up with the wind to swallow every other sound in the world.
They were nearing the edge when Jien stopped and fell into a twitching fit. Winning over the demon, one might hope.
“I’ll stop it here,” Akakiba said. “Watch the girl.” He ran forward, sword out.
The little girl, catching sight of him, must have believed the blade was meant for her, because she bolted like a terrified rabbit. Yuki followed her along the cliff’s edge, trying to be heard above the noise of water and wind. “It’s okay! Nobody’s going to hurt you! Come back!”
She halted, facing the drop, and put a foot forward. “Go away or I’ll jump!”
She was a child. She wouldn’t understand even if he pointed out that if they wanted her hurt, they wouldn’t mind her jumping.
Yuki froze with his palms up and visibly empty. He had to shout to have any hope of being heard. “I’m sorry he scared you. He was worried for our friend. Will you come here so we can talk? It’s not very nice to have people pushed off cliffs, you know.”
“They weren’t nice first,” she wailed.
He wasn’t prone to vertigo due to heights, so why was the world suddenly moving? Swaying, even? An earthquake? Now, of all times?
He got down to his knees before he managed to pitch over the edge. “Get down! Earthquake!”
“Happens all the time,” the little girl said. She sounded less scared and more contemptuous now, as if he were being silly.
He hadn’t felt an earthquake this strong since… Hm, he couldn’t recall when. “Let’s get away from the edge, okay?” He showed the example, moving away on all fours. The ground was moving in weird ways. Not just swaying, but sort of—oh, curse it. Looking back, he saw the edge disappear, plunging downwards. A high-pitched girl’s scream rose.
“Run!” Following his own advice, he scrambled upright, jumped, touched ground, pushed off again to throw his arms around a large tree. His feet didn’t find any ground to rest onto. The tree was leaning over the new edge, but it was anchored to the remaining ground by thick roots. He wasn’t going to die in the immediate future.
Ignoring the way his skin rubbed painfully against tree bark, he craned his head to try to locate the girl. Please let her be okay… Ah, there! Instead of running, she’d plastered herself to the ground on the spot. The earth slide had taken away most of the old cliff edge, except the area where she was. This new outcrop didn’t look terribly solid. Maybe it explained why she still wasn’t moving. That, or sheer terror.
The bottom, Yuki thought while looking down between his feet, was alarmingly far down. It was also overlaid with rocks guaranteed to break every bone in his body if he fell. Heights above water didn’t bother him. Heights above earth… He tightened his grip.
“Yuki! Oi!”
“Over here!”
Akakiba appeared, followed by a wobbly-looking Jien with a hand pressed to the side of his head. He’d fought the demon out, then. Good.
“Get the little girl away from there!” Yuki yelled at them. “It doesn’t look stable! I’m okay!”
Ignoring Yuki’s words, Akakiba started making his way over to Yuki’s position, feeling out the ground with his feet, one at the time.
“The little girl is in more pressing danger,” Yuki snapped. “Go get her.”
“You’re hanging over nothing,” Akakiba snapped back. He reached out. “Come on. Hurry.” As if to underscore his words, the tree groaned and leaned a tiny bit farther out.
Yuki clasped the offered hand and was promptly hauled up and backward until they were standing safely under the cover of trees.
Jien was on his knees, holding his spear right under the blade so he could extend the butt towards the little girl. When she grasped it, Jien edged back, dragging her along. Eventually, he got to his feet and bundled her up in his arms. She didn’t protest, not even when he carried her over to them.
“The demon?” Yuki said.
“Familiar spirit,” Jien corrected. “I had a look at its mind, sort of. It’s not vicious; it’s trying to help her.”
“What happened to it?”
“I kicked it out at the same time the ground started shaking. We were both more interested in finding you and the girl than fighting. I don’t think it understood she was in danger where she was, or else it would have materialized and dragged her away even if the sun is out.”
“It might have gone back to the house,” Akakiba speculated, idly caressing the hilt of his sword.
Jien frowned. “You can’t kill it. It’s not evil.”
“She’s a tiny murderer. Do you really want her to have a servant at her disposal?”
“She’d attract another if you killed this one. That’s how familiars work, Aito said.”
“How do you propose to contain her? If she’d died, the problem would have solved itself.”
Sometimes, Yuki forgot how cold Akakiba could be. Did he not understand children were different or did he just not care? Considering Jien’s expression, he was probably wondering the same thing. Their eyes met.
“You’re his conscience: you handle this one,” Jien muttered, walking away. The girl hadn’t said a word, her gaze vacant. That was either shock or a sign she was too focused on her familiar to hear anything.
Before Akakiba could say whatever he was about to say—maybe to the effect he didn’t need a conscience—Yuki started talking. “Children don’t understand death like adults do. She was lashing out to protect herself, not because she’s bad. She needs someone to help her understand why what she did is wrong.”
“We’re too busy to rear a child,” Akakiba immediately said, looking alarmed. “Jien can have her.”
“I mean someone like Aito. She’s like him. He’ll know where to send her.”
“The parents of the slain children won’t be inclined to clemency, you realize?”
Yuki grimaced. “Jien can handle it. I’m sure he can find a way to make her sound like a victim.”
Jien looked at the gathered villagers with an expressionless face, making eye contact here and there, drawing it out.
“The demon is dead,” he said, “but this poor girl is demon-touched. It’s all over her aura.”
The gravity in his voice led the villagers to gasp and try to edge away without being obvious about it.
“Is she going to die?” somebody asked.
“The Great Temples can cleanse her. We’ll bring her down with us on the ship.”
“I don’t want to be cleansed,” the little girl muttered.
Effusive thanks followed, and no one objected when they said they needed to take the girl away immediately. If anything, the villagers looked happier to be thus saved from contagion or ill luck or whatever they thought “demon-touched” meant.
“We have a friend like you,” Yuki later told the girl while she packed, “who talks to spirits. We’re taking you to see him.”
“I talk to ghosts,” the little girl corrected firmly.
“Okay.” Best to let Aito handle that misconception. “What did you mean, earlier, about earthquakes happening all the time?”