“What? Why?”

  Anger and menace slipped back into Hidetsugu’s voice. “I did not devote my life to Chaos so that Chaos could turn its back on me. I summoned it here for a battle to the death as the world collapses around us. If Chaos will not fight that battle here, I must carry the battle it.” The ogre’s face was terrible to behold. “My god will live up to my expectations, or I will make it suffer.”

  Toshi waited for his heart to slow down before he spoke. “I don’t even know if that’s possible. And if it were, what can you do? Even an o-bakemono’s power has limits.”

  Hidetsugu crossed his arms. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we should simply fight until one or both of us is dead. You are a wily trickster, Toshi Umezawa. You may yet find a way to destroy me before I bring this entire building down.” For emphasis, Hidetsugu stomped one massive foot onto the floor, shaking more bricks loose from the broken walls.

  “Agreed,” Toshi said instantly. Behind the ogre, framed by the hole leading outside, Toshi saw several of Konda’s twisted moth-riders circling ever closer. Beyond them, the sky was full of O-Kagachi. “But I must ask something of you in return.”

  The ogre bared his teeth, though Toshi could not tell if it were a smile or a threat. “I’m listening.”

  “Save Marrow from the hyozan curse. And help me carry the Taken One to the roof. Do this for me and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  “The only way to avoid the curse is not to invoke it. I’m sorry, but my rat brother is doomed.”

  “Hmm. And this has nothing to do with the sword he stuck in your eye?”

  “That had crossed my mind. But no, it is not a question of whether I will help him, but can I. I cannot.”

  “But you’ll carry the disk for me? Time’s running out, old friend, and I have to get it away from here or all this was for nothing.”

  “It always has been all for nothing,” Hidetsugu said. “Nonetheless, yes, I will be your draught animal if you do as I have asked.”

  “Then we have another deal, blood-brother. Come toward the sound of my voice and I will show you the disk.”

  Toshi felt his sense of self-preservation screaming as he took the ogre’s hand, but Hidetsugu did not lash out. Instead, he allowed Toshi to guide him through the rubble to the fallen stone disk.

  “Here,” Toshi said, but his unease did not subside. The Taken One was lying faceup, with the profile of the fetal serpent clearly visible. Hadn’t it landed facedown when the oni dog attacked? Hadn’t it been facing right instead, whereas now it faced left?

  Hidetsugu bent and fastened his thick fingers around the edges of the disk. He shuddered as his hands made contact, but he smoothly hoisted the prize onto his shoulder.

  “This is indeed powerful,” Hidetsugu said. “But well-camouflaged. Had I known, I would have inspected it far more closely while I had it to myself.” With a grunt, the ogre turned toward the hallway.

  “One moment,” Toshi said.

  “Why?” Hidetsugu replied. “Aren’t we both in a hurry?”

  “We are,” Toshi said. “But I need to end the hyozan oath properly.”

  Moving quickly, Toshi made his way back to Kiku. The mahotsukai was still unconscious but breathing steadily. Toshi gently pulled her away from the rubble and covered her with a tapestry from the wall. He drew his jitte and deftly scratched a protective symbol on her jet-black forehead. The symbol glowed white for a moment, then faded. Kiku would be safe here until she woke up. Before he turned away, Toshi stole one last kiss from Kiku’s sleeping lips.

  “Farewell,” he said, “last of the Numai jushi.”

  Kiku’s eyes fluttered and her lips pulled back into a familiar sneer. “Kill you for that,” she whispered weakly.

  “Get in line.” Toshi grinned.

  The envelope of shadow began to churn around Kiku, bubbling like oil in a hot pan. In the center of the dark mass, Kiku opened her eyes and stared sleepily at Toshi. Slowly, she began to sink from sight, disappearing into the blackness that surrounded her.

  “Remember who you are,” Toshi called. “Remember who you hate. Cling to the things that mean the most to you, or the shadows will consume you in the end.”

  Kiku’s eyes fluttered and she nodded. As the shadows rose up to her throat, a bright purple flower broke through the surface of the black mass. Kiku held the flower aloft for Toshi to see as the mahotsukai herself vanished from sight. Seconds later, the black bubble imploded in on itself, leaving the delicate bloom behind to adorn the cracked and shattered floor.

  Without going anywhere near Kiku’s parting gift, Toshi turned and went back to the main chamber.

  Hidetsugu was waiting for him with the Taken One propped up on his shoulder. He showed no signs of strain, but he was grinning evilly.

  “You have changed, ochimusha. A year ago you would have stolen her shoes while she slept and left an insulting note pinned to her clothing.”

  “We’ve all changed,” Toshi said brusquely. “A year ago, I was much less weary.” He produced the axe he had taken from Kiku’s belt.

  Hidetsugu must have smelled the freshly sharpened metal, or at least the residual blood that the axe had tasted. “You are going to do your duty by the nezumi?”

  “I am. If he can’t be saved, I can’t just leave him to suffer.”

  “Careful, my friend,” Hidetsugu said, his voice unkind. “You are dancing on the precipice of nobility.”

  Toshi did not reply.

  “When you’ve done your duty,” Hidetsugu said, “find my tetsubo and bring it along, will you?”

  “Of course.” Toshi turned to Marrow-Gnawer, still smoking and twitching as the curse held him fast.

  “You were the best vermin thug I ever knew,” Toshi said. “And a loyal reckoner. The hyozan salutes you, Marrow-Gnawer.” The axe went up and came down with a terrible, terminal thump.

  Hidetsugu waited until Toshi turned to face him once more.

  “Are you ready, blood-brother?”

  “I am.” Toshi looked around at the wreckage he’d helped create. He shook his head and then shrugged. “To the roof.”

  The last of the oni had either fled or been cut down. The battle belonged to Konda and his ghost army, and O-Kagachi was still crawling across the horizon, slowly but inevitably headed for Minamo.

  His moth-riders now circled the academy, concentrating on a large hole in the exterior south wall. Konda’s eyes had fixed on the same spot, and he knew that total victory was within his grasp.

  “Forward!” he shouted. “For Eiganjo! For Towabara! For the glory of all Kamigawa!”

  “Konda!” his army replied. “Konda!”

  Two moth-riders swept down on each side of the daimyo’s horse. The grotesque hybrids of man and beast extended their glowing auras to surround Konda, and they now carried him and his steed into the air over Lake Kamitaki.

  Though the lake and the shore alike were strewn with wreckage and fallen bodies, Konda had never seen such a beautiful view. Borne aloft on his retainer’s wings, he felt more than a general, more than a daimyo. He felt like a conquering god. This was his true destiny, and that of the world—to be victorious and triumphant over all enemies.

  The moths guided him to the south wall and tacked back and forth outside the hole in the wall. Though he was only a short leap from the building’s interior, Konda sensed something was wrong. His eyes were no longer glued to this level of the school. The Taken One had been moved.

  Anger and panic bubbled up through his euphoria. His wandering eyes darted across and around his face like maddened hornets in a jar. Disoriented, Konda could only sit and fume until he located his prize.

  Overhead, thunder rolled down from the academy roof and a great flash of black lightning snaked across the cloudy evening sky. Even from this great distance, Konda caught the scent of sulfur and saw a ghostly vision of a vortex filled with sharp teeth and slavering jaws. A huge, vaguely man-shaped figure was falling into the vortex, howling in rage and waving a heavy spiked club. Then the vortex closed, swallowing the brutish figure and vanishing from sight.

  Konda’s eyes found their target. There, he thought. He craned his head up and saw a single living battle-moth ascending from Minamo into the clouds above. The Taken One, the great stone disk that Konda had risked so much and fought so hard for, was lashed securely to the colorful creature’s back.

  Without a word or a gesture, his moth-riders turned and gave chase. The two escorting Konda were the first to move and the fastest in flight. Even with their burden, the ghostly moths rapidly closed the distance between the daimyo and his prize.

  Konda saw a single man on the moth’s back, and while the distance was still too great to identify him, the Daimyo’s eyes would not be fooled. This was the thief Toshi Umezawa and he was once again stealing Konda’s treasure. The daimyo urged his bearers forward, willing them to go ever faster.

  The sky ahead of the thief was growing darker even though it was closer to the setting sun. The ochimusha steered his moth into the blacker mass of clouds and air ahead, and then he and the Taken One were gone. Not even Konda’s eyes could find them, even after the daimyo himself had plunged into the wall of darkness. Seconds later, he emerged from the other side to find an empty sky stretching out before him.

  This was intolerable. He had both thief and treasure within his grasp, but now they were both gone without a trace. Was Night itself the ochimusha’s ally?

  To the south, O-Kagachi let out an anguished roar. Its thrashing coils became quiescent and the giant serpent heads paused, fixing their star-eyes on the patch of sky where Konda raged. Then the dread guardian of the kakuriyo turned away and cast its eyes east, the direction the ochimusha had gone. Like a typhoon, the serpent ponderously changed course, ignoring the academy and the waterfall.

  Daimyo Konda bellowed in frustration. Victory would not be his today.

  With a thought, Konda summoned his army and directed them to follow. The Taken One had gone east. O-Kagachi would follow, but the serpent was not as quick as the daimyo’s ghost army. Once he could lock his gaze upon his prize, Konda would ride down upon the ochimusha and crucify him. The prize would be back in Eiganjo before O-Kagachi ever came close.

  The daimyo gripped his horse’s reins and clenched his teeth. The next time he came this close to his goal, he would die before he let it slip though his fingers.

  Toshi willed himself and his moth solid as soon as they were clear of the falls. He had chosen his steed well. The live moth had so far proved fast enough to keep him out of Konda’s clutches, provided he maintained the lead his myojin had given him.

  Night’s Reach had been pleased with Toshi’s success in keeping the Taken One from Konda and O-Kagachi, so she was extremely accommodating in the matter of escaping the daimyo’s pursuit. In addition to hiding Toshi as he flew, she had also delayed Konda’s progress. She had also been unexpectedly enthusiastic about sending Hidetsugu to confront the All-Consuming. Night’s face was literally an unchanging mask, but Toshi thought he saw joy and excitement in his myojin’s demeanor.

  He tried not to dwell on the cost of pleasing his patron. Hidetsugu was gone, Marrow was dead, and if Kiku remained herself she would still be forever changed. He hoped the rough stone disk was worth it, but it would take someone else to convince him.

  thank you

  Toshi started at the sound of a voice in his head. The most powerful mages and spirits could speak mind-to-mind, but this voice was unfamiliar to him. That’s all I need right now, he thought, another interested party.

  saved me

  Toshi shivered in the cold night air. I’m not hearing this, he insisted to himself. I’m not listening to any new voices.

  release me

  Slowly, Toshi turned in the saddle. Behind him, the Taken One was still securely bound to the moth’s harness. The serpent’s face peeked out between leather straps.

  To his mounting terror, the etched image of the Taken One moved, stretching like a cat after a long nap. It turned to face Toshi directly, and, though its line-drawn mouth did not move, its voice came clearly to Toshi’s ears even as the rushing wind filled them with its roar.

  thank you

  saved me

  release me

  NOW

  Toshi struggled for words. He had thought his recent success had come from the Myojin of Night’s Reach, but now he wasn’t so sure. His mind was choked with questions. The stone disk was talking to him. Had it talked to Konda? What else could it do?

  The image of the serpent strained. The tip of its nose broke through the surface of the disk, and Toshi stifled a yell.

  Not here, he thought. Not now.

  release me

  “I will,” he said, though he had no idea how. Whatever the Taken One had been in the spirit world, whatever it had become in this world, it was alive. And making demands.

  The strain of breaking free from the disk proved too much for the etched serpent, and it settled back into two dimensions. It remained focused on Toshi, however, fixing him with its baleful eyes.

  “I can’t do it alone,” Toshi said quickly. “And I need to rest and heal before I can even try. But I promise I will do whatever I can, as soon as I can.” He swallowed nervously. “Trust me.”

  The serpent slowly settled back into its original pose, showing Toshi its profile.

  waiting

  Toshi nodded, awash with relief. “Thank you,” he said. “You won’t have to wait much longer.”

  He watched the motionless image for many long minutes before turning his back on it once more. There was nothing for it but to press on. Night’s Reach wanted this thing kept from Konda and O-Kagachi, and Toshi meant to honor her wishes for the time being. His promise to the Taken One would have to wait. After all, he couldn’t help it if they were both captured or killed, so his first priority was to avoid that.

  As the great moth carried him east toward the Jukai Forest, Toshi lowered his head and tried to think who in the world would be ready, willing, and able to help him. He was still thinking hours later when the first rays of sunlight speared over the horizon.

  PART TWO

  DAUGHTERS OF FLESH AND SPIRIT

  The great Jukai Forest was almost as large as all the surrounding territories combined. A vast tangle of massive cedars and tall, grassy hills, Jukai was so large it could experience five different types of weather at once. The eastern edge of the woods had never been mapped, as no survey team had ever found it and returned.

  This remote corner of Konda’s domain was some of the wildest and most dangerous country in all Kamigawa. There were very few human tribes, and those that did dwell in the east were extremely religious and intensely private. The orochi-bito snakefolk held sway in these deepest recesses of the forest, and while over thirty tribes had been identified, no one was truly sure how many snakes there were.

  It was upon this remote wooded expanse and against these fabled creatures that the soratami descended. Their warriors came down from the sky in huge cloud chariots, raining ice-blue magic and silver arrows upon any orochi they saw. As the crescent moon smiled sharply on the horizon, wave after wave of silver-white war machines stooped down to the treetops, unleashing a grim tide of armored soratami clad in shimmering mail armor.

  To any observer it would have seemed as if the pale, slender warriors were lashing out at the forest itself, blasting thick stands of trees with their crystalline magic and piercing great hedgerows with volleys of spears and arrows. The moonfolk left little more than shattered trunks and broken boughs as the lifeless bodies of camouflaged orochi fell from their hiding spots.

  Mochi, the Smiling Kami of the Crescent Moon grinned, and the actual moon turned so that its points were facing up. As was his custom when manifesting in the utsushiyo, he now took the unthreatening form of a small, chubby, blue-skinned cherub with bright eyes and a dazzling smile. As Mochi became solid, the moon overhead returned to its normal position.

  So far, the campaign was going splendidly. There were hundreds of soratami warriors already in the forest, with thousands more arriving or on the way. Almost the entire Oboro garrison had been mustered and sent into the woods. They had not found the homes of the largest orochi tribes yet, but he was certain they would. When they did, the dominant snakes would fall as easily as the small pocket of resistance his army was devastating right now.

  The soratami were spectacular in all-out warfare, a study in grace blended with power wrapped in a shroud of stealth. It was something everyone should be able to see and appreciate, even if it meant they had to be on the wrong end of the moonfolk’s swords.

  First came the shinobi, scouts and spies who could walk through walls and dance on dust motes without drawing attention. The orochi had to breed for generations before they could blend into the deep woods as effectively as Mochi’s agents did with just a few weeks’ preparation, and the soratami were not limited to the forest. They could disappear just as easily on the plains of Towabara or the marshes of Takenuma.

  This invisible advance team had located all of the orochi dens and gathering places, even mapping the most likely shelters they would be driven to when attacked. When the fighting started, the soratami warriors knew exactly where to look for their prey.

  The warriors themselves were a special point of pride for Mochi, as they wore his crescent moon standard, and their enchanted mail perfectly mimicked the shine of moonlight on pure silver. They were armed with traditional katana and they floated like ethereal dancers through the moss and cedar, blades flashing and spinning through the trees. Mochi could easily imagine there were no orochi at all and that his army was simply performing an intricate military exercise … if not for the vile hissing of the snakes and the stench of their watery green blood.

  Overhead, scores of cloud chariots waited for the chance to deposit more warriors on the field. Mochi folded his chubby fingers over his bulging belly and sighed happily. Things were working out so well.