A leering, snaggle-toothed akki hurled a stone throwing axe. It missed, but it buried itself deep into the trunk of the tree beside Toshi.

  I may be that desperate after all, he thought. He glanced down, looking for a clear patch of dirt where he could draw a symbol.

  Then a huge bald figure exploded out of the forest like a cannonball. Kobo charged past Toshi with his tetsubo war club drawn and ready. The massive youth plowed straight into the pack of goblins, his roar every bit as intimidating as one of Hidetsugu’s.

  At first, all Toshi could do was watch as Kobo laid into the akki with his tetsubo. He may not have been fast over long distances, but he was a tornado in close quarters. The studded club was alive in his hands, smashing goblin weapons to pieces and the goblins themselves into pulp. He twirled the heavy weapon like a baton, crushing limbs, cracking skulls, and staving in the akki’s natural armor like stale bread. As a traveling companion, the ogre apprentice’s worth was increasing by the second.

  The twins barked out another command, and another wave of akki swarmed toward Kobo. They surrounded him and literally began to scale him like a tree, even as he battered the others aside with his club. For a moment, Kobo was completely covered in squirming akki bodies, and the burly youth faltered. Then, like a dog shaking off water, Kobo rose, shuddered, and sent the vicious horde flying.

  Kobo spun his tetsubo up one arm, behind his neck, and down the other, coming to rest in a position of complete readiness. He glared at the twins, beckoning them with his fingers.

  “That’s my oath-brother,” Toshi called. “We look out for each other.”

  The twins both raised a hand, then simultaneously chopped down. The akki chant stopped and the only sound left in the glen was the crackle of the fire and the groans of fallen goblins.

  “Impressive,” said the first twin.

  “But this,” said the second twin, “is our patron, the Myojin of Infinite Rage. And we also look out for each other.”

  The second twin waved, and the bonfire expanded out past the boundaries of the clearing, engulfing the entire area in blood-red flames.

  Toshi was mildly surprised to find himself alive and unbroiled. As his vision cleared, he saw that all the akki had fallen to their knees and were facing the fire. The twins were still sneering, their eyes locked on Toshi and Kobo.

  An giant, ornate wooden throne floated above the pile of burning logs. It was the kind of chair a warrior king would have, once he had conquered most of the globe and built a castle from the bones of his enemies. A small jade and ruby statue sat in the center of the throne, a different weapon in each of its six arms.

  The statue and the throne were surrounded by bright red flames that flickered too slowly, as if the fire was somehow heavier and denser than those of the bonfire. In these flames, Toshi could discern a kind of face above the throne and multiple arms on each side. Some of the limbs carried beads, some carried fans, but most carried swords, pikes, and other bladed weapons. These arms and items rotated around the central figure on the throne, floating like bubbles in oil.

  You.

  Toshi’s eyes watered and his ears popped as the kami’s terrible voice tore through his head. He fought the urge to look around, to pretend he didn’t know the Myojin of Infinite Rage was speaking directly to him.

  You are not welcome here, Toshi Umezawa. You are a tool in my enemy’s hands. I shall make an example of you.

  “A blessing,” the first twin cried. “O Majestic Kami, we serve at your pleasure.”

  “Touch us with your wisdom, empower us with your rage,” said the second. “Godo and his entire army stand ready.”

  Beside them, Ben-Ben the akki hermit prayed fervently, his fishy hat forgotten on the forest floor.

  The swirling mass of the kami’s body seemed to reorient on the twins.

  You have my blessing. Continue your work. Leave the thug and the ogreling to me.

  The second twin scowled, but both bandits lowered their torches. The scowler let out a long whistle and both twins jerked their heads to the north.

  As the great kami’s form flickered hypnotically overhead, the entire assembly of akki turned and began filing out of the clearing. Even those who were latched on to Kobo with claws and teeth stopped in mid-attack to join the exodus. Kobo struck down any who weren’t quick enough to get out of range, but the ogre’s apprentice did not pursue them. Instead, he backpedaled closer to Toshi, keeping his eyes on the kami.

  You are a troublesome man, Toshi Umezawa.

  “You don’t know the half of it. And how do you know my name?” Toshi had never directly encountered a major kami in person before. He was surprised to find himself more annoyed than awed. “What do you spirits want from me?”

  I seek the same goal of all clear-thinking sentients: an end to the Kami War.

  “That’s rich,” Toshi said. “A fiery spirit of anger wants peace? Tell me another one.”

  “Careful, oath-brother.”

  The kami’s flame rose higher and brighter. I never said I sought peace. I seek an end to the war. An end that benefits me and mine.

  “Well, carry on then. Good luck with that.”

  Your kami handlers should never have sent you here, ochimusha. But you have come, and I cannot permit you to leave.

  “I have no kami handlers,” Toshi said.

  No? The disembodied voice seemed amused. Then who guides your destiny? Who answers when you call?

  “The hyozan does.” Kobo stepped forward. “Do your worst, false god. We are not afraid.”

  The flames grew hotter. Be silent. You serve a blasphemous brute who serves the beast of chaos. Your ogre blood will boil this night. Your master and his oni will suffer the same, in time.

  Toshi shrugged. “He’s new. But he’s right. If you’re going to kill us, at least be quick in the attempt. We’ve got places to go.” He tightened his grip on the handle of his jitte, his own blood still smeared across the tip. How would a spirit of rage attack them, he wondered. Force them to turn on each other? Burn them from the inside out?

  As he stood waiting, Toshi heard another sound just under that of the crackling flames. It began as a dim, buzzing hum, but as it grew Toshi realized it was a distorted echo of the akki chant that summoned the great red kami.

  Three balls of red flame leaped out from the bonfire, each as big as a chariot. They hovered just above the ground, spinning in place as the flames licked the air around them.

  Die well, Umezawa, and be remembered. Otherwise, no one in either world will notice your passing.

  “Same to you,” Toshi called.

  The flames around the Myojin of Infinite Rage flared. There was a blast of concussive force, and then the bonfire collapsed in upon itself in a great implosion of air.

  The great kami’s departure also sucked the flames away from the three fireballs, leaving three huge, grotesque shapes among the stumps and burned grass. The first resembled a tangled bale of barbed wire that had been doused with oil and set aflame. Twisted points of fiery metal floated in the air around its central mass as the kami shimmered and undulated, slashing the air with whips of sharpened wire.

  The second kami was a great, barrel-shaped insect with two oversized forelegs and a scorpion’s tail. It floated several feet off the ground, surrounded by a cloud of stinging flies. Its armored exoskeleton clicked as its sank its scythe-like forelegs into the turf and hauled itself forward.

  The third looked like a cross between a turtle, an eagle, and a razor-tusked boar. Toshi blinked and rubbed his eyes, but the thing’s true shape was lost in the cloud of heat distortion that surrounded it.

  “Oath-brother,” Kobo hissed. “I can summon a lesser oni to aid us, but it will take time and concentration.”

  Toshi scanned the three spirit beasts before them. Each was a “lesser” kami itself, and he wasn’t sure one lesser oni would be enough. Besides, each of Rage’s subordinate kami was only a short leap or lunge away, and time was something they didn’t have.

  Toshi shook his head and drew his long sword. “That’s no good to us, Kobo,” he said. “I think we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

  The lesser kami each began to stalk Toshi and Kobo, spreading out and inching closer amid a thoroughly unpleasant chorus of growls, whines, and clicks.

  “Kobo,” Toshi said. “You take the barbed wire and the bug. I’ll deal with the … I’ll deal with the other one.”

  “Yes, oath-brother.”

  “Kobo?”

  “Yes, oath-brother?”

  “The Myojin of Rage called you ‘ogreling’ and said you had ogre’s blood. Do you?”

  Kobo’s back straightened and his face shone with something approximating joy. “Yes, oath-brother. I ate and drank of Hidetsugu’s own flesh upon achieving—”

  “I know the ritual.” Toshi wrinkled his nose. “Hidetsugu has described it to me. And that’s why you’re even stronger than you look?”

  Kobo’s odd look of pride and excitement widened. “It is.”

  “Good.” He drew his jitte and showed it to Kobo. Then he gestured at an axe wound one of the akki had made in the bald youth’s bicep. “May I?”

  Kobo looked suspicious for a moment, but then he shrugged. Toshi wiped the length of his jitte across Kobo’s arm, coating it with the apprentice’s blood.

  “Now then,” Toshi said. “Let’s defend ourselves. And don’t get killed behind my back. I don’t have time to avenge you and figure out what’s going on.”

  Kobo’s mouth flickered as close to a smile as Toshi had seen. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Toshi nodded. Indeed, the ogre’s apprentice seemed downright eager for the coming struggle.

  A single flaming tendril of sharpened wire lashed out and coiled around Kobo’s club. It tried to pull the weapon from the bald youth’s grip, but he tightened his fists and dug his sandals into the sod. The wire remained taut as the kami reeled it in, drawing itself closer to Kobo as the youth stood firm.

  The bug kami floated over this strange tug of war, orienting on Toshi. Its stinger tail curled up over its body, but Toshi guessed it could strike from below as well as above. Best to stay out of range in either case.

  He started to sidestep, keeping his sword trained on the bug, but then the third kami lunged forward. Toshi still didn’t have a clear idea of its shape and that concerned him. If he couldn’t tell what it was, he couldn’t tell how it would attack.

  As the bug kami continued to float calmly toward him, Toshi saw the third tensing for another leap. Beside him, Kobo still strained to hang onto his club without being pulled in like a fish.

  In a sudden flash of inspiration, Toshi yelled, “Switch!” and then sprang forward, already swinging his sword. The blade bit into the wire between Kobo and the flaming kami, hesitated, and then broke through.

  The barbed wire kami recoiled and keened in pain as thick purple ichor spattered from its severed tendril. The wire around Kobo’s club withered and fell away like dried ivy.

  Kobo reacted quickly, drawing his club back as soon as Toshi cut it loose. The bald youth spun himself around, swinging the tetsubo overhead and bringing it down squarely on the third kami’s back, just as the monster was about to spring on Toshi. The force of Kobo’s blow cracked the thing’s hard shell. Its body seemed to fold in half around the club as Kobo drove it down into the dirt.

  Toshi ran under the scorpion-thing, which was still making its unhurried way across the clearing. Either it could not move quickly or it was saving its speed for a death blow from its stinger. In either case, Toshi had time to close the distance between himself and the barbed wire mass while the bug thing meandered closer.

  A half dozen whip-like tendrils slashed at him as he approached, but Toshi protected himself with his jitte and the flat of his blade. The closer he got, the more tendrils he fought. As he slashed and hacked his way through, the kami retreated, rolling along the ground like a boulder.

  Sensing a feint, Toshi stopped his advance. The thing rolled back another few feet, then rose up like a wave about to break, towering over the ochimusha. The kami spread itself out, covering a much wider area, and threw itself over Toshi like a blanket. He rolled clear, and as the kami gathered its mass for another charge, Toshi quickly scratched a series of kanji into the ash-covered ground.

  The problem of how to kill a corporeal spirit without vitals or extremities had crossed his mind, raising a cold smile on his lips. He had spent a lifetime in Numai, among the nezumi-bito and the jushi. There was no shortage of methods for killing something without a blade or a club.

  Behind him, Kobo was pounding the third kami into an even more unrecognizable shape. It had one of its mouths clamped on to the youth’s calf, but its small, sharp teeth could barely puncture Kobo’s skin. He had tasted Hidetsugu’s flesh and so shared Hidetsugu’s strength. Above them, the scorpion kami hovered closer, apparently convinced that Kobo was the greater danger. Toshi almost smiled again.

  Instead, he finished the last line on the last kanji and rose to his feet. The barbed wire kami was rolling toward him, but cautiously. It sent wire tendrils ahead of the main mass, probing and inspecting the ground as it went. When it reached the edge of the first kanji on the ground, it stopped and hissed menacingly, but would advance no further.

  “You’re not as brainless as you look,” Toshi called. “But then, you couldn’t be.” He waggled his jitte and his sword, but the kami would come no closer.

  “The thing is, you don’t actually need to step on this trap to trigger it.” He held out the tip of his jitte, still stained with his own blood as well as Kobo’s. He tossed the weapon into the air and then drew his short sword as the jitte stabbed deep into the ground, directly in the center of the last symbol.

  A small black wind rose between Toshi and the kami. As the breeze blew ash and dust into Toshi’s face, the characters he had carved rose into the air. The dark current carried the kanji to Toshi, swirled them around his head, and then sent them hurtling into the center of the barbed wire beast.

  The symbols disappeared as they touched the kami’s body. The thing keened again, its cries growing louder and more pained as the wind drove it back.

  The flames surrounding the wire kami flickered and then grew dim. The wildly flailing ends of its tendrils slowed, and Toshi heard a harsh, cracking sound like ice breaking underfoot. A blackish-red patina of flaky grime spread out from where Toshi’s symbols had touched the kami’s body, and within seconds it became mired in a thick coating of rusty scabs.

  Toshi watched the fiery points around the barbed wire slow, stiffen, and drop. Then he stepped forward, retrieved his jitte, and thumped the handle into the stiff, motionless mass of brittle wire. The dead kami collapsed and disintegrated like a dome of spun sugar.

  He nodded to himself. Ogre’s blood made strong magic, even when it was mixed with a human’s.

  Kobo shouted a warning that snapped Toshi back to the fight just as the scorpion kami struck. Toshi easily dodged the incoming stinger, which obliterated the remainder of the barbed wire kami’s corpse.

  Toshi leaped clear of a second strike, then a third. He had been correct: the scorpion kami was only slow when it moved between strikes. Once you were in range, it lashed out over and over until it scored. He flipped and rolled toward Kobo until he was clear. The last remaining kami turned and floated once more in their direction.

  Toshi cocked his head. “So,” he said, “that minor oni you mentioned? Time enough to summon it now?”

  Kobo watched the scorpion kami. “Perhaps. I don’t think we need it now, though.”

  “Humor me. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Without another word, Kobo dropped into a cross-legged position, steepled his fingers, and balanced his forehead on them. While the ogre’s apprentice chanted softly, Toshi stepped between Kobo and the kami.

  The monster’s stinging fly aspects reached them first, and Toshi swatted at them with his sword. Kobo was probably right: they didn’t need an oni’s help to win this battle. He preferred to be extra cautious when poison was involved, however, as a single scratch from the scorpion could mean another death for the hyozan reckoners to avenge. Or worse, the toxin could paralyze Kobo, and then Toshi would have to carry him.

  Toshi paused, mentally noting the position of each swiftly buzzing fly. Then he waved his sword in a continuous, curving arc that rose up, down, then doubled back on itself. At the end of his swing, Toshi held his position, sword at the ready, feet wide and balanced. Before him, seven bisected stinging flies fell to the ground.

  Toshi smiled. The scorpion kami was almost in range.

  “Kobo? Any time you’re ready.”

  Kobo stood. “I summon the dogs of war,” he growled. “Blood-lust, brutality, and barbarism. As ogre serves oni, as human serves ogre, so will you serve me. Rise,” he clapped his hands, “and make merry.”

  There was a flash, and a huge, feral shape appeared beside Kobo. Toshi realized he stood between it and the kami overhead, and smoothly slid out of the way.

  The oni had the expected triple eyes and forward-sweeping horns, but it was not a humanoid shape. Instead, it was four-legged and as big as a bear. It was broad and bulky through the chest and shoulders, but its hips were thin and tapered over its spindly hindquarters. It was covered in thick, tough hide and had sharp spears of bone along its spine. Its armored chin came to a savage point, and caustic foam dripped from multiple rows of sharp, gnarled teeth.

  The scorpion kami struck. The first sting punched into the oni-dog’s shoulder, but did not penetrate to the vulnerable areas below. The second strike deflected off the oni’s polished horn, leaving a deep scratch that was filled with venom.

  On the third strike, the oni caught the scorpion’s tail in its jaws and clamped down with a nauseous crunch. The kami let out an ear-splitting shriek. To Toshi’s bemusement, the kami’s stinger broke off in the oni’s mouth as the bug-like thing rose high into the air.