Their respective fathers had brought them to this. O-Kagachi existed to embody and enforce the barrier between utsushiyo and kakuriyo. Konda dedicated his life to expanding his realm to include as much space and as many tribes as he could. Each wanted sole authority over the whole of both realms. The only difference was that O-Kagachi wanted to preserve existing boundaries as they were and Konda wanted them to change in his favor.

  “We must stop them,” Michiko said.

  Kyodai turned to face the princess. I agree. But how?

  “O-Kagachi contains both realms and keeps them separate. My father the daimyo is the same with Eiganjo, ruling it and the surrounding nations alike. They both control the traffic to and from their domains as well as within their own borders. We have all been constrained by those borders, yet we know no alternative. Without the structure our fathers provide, both worlds would be different … more chaotic and dangerous, less formal and organized. Without clear lines and borders, spirit and flesh alike would be lost.”

  Kyodai’s fierce eyes became haunted, hopeless. Then what can we do?

  “We cannot simply escape the guardians who seek us. Nor can we simply destroy the boundaries they exist to enforce. Even if it were possible, the result would be cataclysmic upheaval.

  “But we can rewrite those boundaries. Our fathers have defined our worlds for our entire lives, but we can redefine them. This is the way of mortal beings, for the aged to give way to the young. The old must stand aside for the new.”

  Sharpness crept back into Kyodai’s expression. A sly, feral look flickered across her eyes. Then, my sister, you are saying …

  “We can fight,” Michiko said. “My father stole and imprisoned you before you truly existed. Your father’s outrage gave rise to the Kami War, which took my mother’s life and my father’s love before I could know either. I will resist both daimyo and serpent to the death before I allow them to cause any more harm.”

  Kyodai smiled, baring her sharp teeth. Well said. You know I feel the same. But how will you resist? How can we fight them?

  “I am not wise or strong,” Michiko said evenly. “But I am determined. I can handle a bow and arrow. I can strike at my enemies accurately from a great distance. I may not have great power, but I have a strong will.”

  Kyodai nodded savagely. I, in turn, do have power, she said. Untapped and untested. But with your guidance, with your will … The serpentine woman opened her arms. Come, my sister. Together we will end this. No matter if we live or die, the world will not go on as it has before.

  Without hesitation, Michiko opened her arms and flowed into Kyodai. Here in the spirit realm, their bodies mingled like a river flowing into the sea, swirling currents of Michiko’s will mixing with the rising tide of Kyodai’s power. For a moment they were wholly combined yet still discrete, a fusion being with four eyes, two mouths, two fathers, two lives … but they shared the same spirit and sought the same goal.

  Then the sisters flowed completely together, mingling mind, body, and spirit into one transcendent whole. Tossed on a crashing wave of memories and sensations that were not and could not have been her own, Michiko abandoned herself to the experience. The last full thought she had before her old mind was swept away was, “I was wrong. We can know what it means to be the other.”

  For the first time in either of their lives, Michiko and Kyodai were at last complete.

  Sharp-Ear was the first to reawaken after the sisters had departed, but Pearl-Ear was the first to her feet.

  “Hello,” Toshi called cheerfully. He was still prodding the dirt with the tip of his jitte. He had inscribed a long, complicated series of the symbols that should have allowed him to escape, but the magic simply wasn’t working. He tried some of the most basic kanji he knew, but the power was dead to him, frozen and still like the birds and the falling leaves.

  Toshi jerked a thumb up toward the sky where O-Kagachi had already touched the tallest trees. “We’ll all be dead soon.”

  “Merciful spirits,” Pearl-Ear said. She dashed forward and grabbed Toshi by the shoulders. “Where is Michiko?”

  “And the Taken One,” Sharp-Ear added. He was favoring his left leg, and his right arm hung limp by his side.

  “Kyodai,” Toshi corrected. “She took a name because she doesn’t want to be known as an inanimate object anymore.” He dropped his jitte and twisted Pearl-Ear’s thumbs back, breaking her hold. “Mind your manners, sensei. I’m just as upset as you are.”

  Sharp-Ear padded up behind Toshi. “Can I kill him now, sister?”

  “You have my leave, brother.” Without waiting, Pearl-Ear moved over to Silk-Eyes and tried to help the waking elder sit upright.

  Toshi threw himself to the side, narrowly missing Sharp-Ear’s blade as it whistled past his neck. The ochimusha rolled onto his feet and crouched so that he was at the little kitsune’s height, his jitte drawn and ready.

  Sharp-Ear struck again, stabbing at Toshi’s midsection with the tip of his dagger. Toshi easily parried the blow. Sharp-Ear was slower than he had been—either his heart wasn’t in this dirty work or he had sustained more serious injuries than he was letting on.

  Toshi watched and waited as Sharp-Ear prepared to thrust again. He was prepared to react to a healthy kitsune’s attack in case Sharp-Ear was shamming, but the little fox was no quicker. Toshi easily caught the dagger between the tines of his jitte as it came toward him. With a simple twist of the wrist, he snapped Sharp-Ear’s blade off less than an inch from the handle.

  Toshi twirled his weapon. “That’s what it’s made to do, you know,” he said.

  Sharp-Ear scowled at his ruined weapon. Without saying a word, he dropped the broken knife and drew a second that was just as sharp and still intact.

  Toshi sighed, casually meeting Sharp-Ear’s eyes. “Go ahead,” he said. “There probably isn’t a kanji hidden on me that’ll reflect your own blade back at you. You’re probably safe to do whatever you like.” He morosely began prodding the dirt with his jitte. “Probably.”

  Sharp-Ear sheathed his knife. “I know you’re lying,” he said.

  “Then strike.”

  “But I also know you’re crafty. I’m betting you can get away from here if you want to bad enough.” He glanced up for a moment. “I’ll wait until you try before I cut you. It’ll be funnier.”

  “Good,” Toshi said. “We’ll all need a good laugh in a few minutes.”

  “Toshi,” Pearl-Ear snapped from where she sat with Silk-Eyes. She must be a teacher, Toshi thought. She’s got that iron tone down to a science. “If you are to remain here among the living, tell us, where are Michiko and …”

  “Kyodai.”

  “Tell us where Michiko and Kyodai are.”

  “They rabbited,” Toshi said. “She burst out of the stone disk looking just like the princess, only sassier and with a definite air of snake about her. Oh, and she was naked.” He looked up at Sharp-Ear. “How’s that for amusing, you feisty little fur-ball? They’re gone, and we’re still here. For once I’m the one who’s been left behind.”

  “It’s ironic,” Sharp-Ear admitted. “But I wouldn’t call it funny.”

  “Nor I. Anyway.” He turned back to Pearl-Ear. “They said they were going to prepare.”

  Pearl-Ear rose and glided back to Toshi. “Prepare? Prepare what?”

  “How should I know? Nobody tells me anything.”

  The forest around them was now as dark as midnight with O-Kagachi spreading over them like a world-sized umbrella. All of the kitsune stunned by Kyodai’s rebirth were now awake, and they wept and prayed in the shadow of the serpent.

  “If she’s gone,” Sharp-Ear said, “why is O-Kagachi still coming here?”

  “What am I, a librarian? I barely know why I’m here. When it comes to vast, ancient spirit beasts and their succulent naked daughters, your guess is as good as mine.”

  Sharp-Ear bristled. “Listen, you.”

  The air beside Toshi blurred. Instinctively, he took hold of his jitte and rolled backward, away from the source of the distortion. He came to his feet beside Sharp-Ear and they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting.

  The same kind of mist and smoke that had accompanied Kyodai’s emergence was back, only now there were two indiscriminate figures moving in the haze. The sisters came forward simultaneously.

  Michiko and Kyodai were dressed in fine leather armor with hammered metal plates over their torsos, biceps, and thighs. The princess wore hers Eiganjo-style, with full sleeves, woven bamboo epaulets, and a white peaked helmet. She sported a longbow on her shoulder and a leather brace on her bow hand. The square quiver was as broad as her back and filled with gleaming, white-feathered bolts.

  Kyodai’s new outfit was dusty gray and fit her like a tailored suit. The collar ended high, just above her chin, and her fierce eyes fairly glowed yellow in the dwindling light. She carried no weapon, but she walked with power and confidence. Both sisters were now accompanied by the cloud of stars that attended Kyodai when she first emerged.

  Michiko said, “Hello. We have come to end this.”

  Toshi smiled a sickly grin. He poked a thumb up at the sky. “Be my guest.”

  Kyodai looked up at O-Kagachi, who was steadily crushing the tops of the trees as he descended. Without taking her eyes off the serpent, she extended her hand to Michiko. When the princess took it, Kyodai tossed back her head and hissed, raising the hair on Toshi’s arm.

  “Father,” Kyodai said. “At last we meet.” She dropped Michiko’s hand and spread her arms up to the sky. “Embrace me, O-Kagachi. I have waited so very long.”

  Michiko drew an arrow and nocked it onto her bow.

  “Michiko,” Pearl-Ear said. “What have you done?”

  The princess lowered her bow. “Nothing yet, sensei.” She bowed. “Wait and watch.”

  O-Kagachi was barely a hundred feet above the forest floor when the sisters soared up to meet him. With this, Toshi had reached the limit of his astonishment. Anything else he saw today would necessarily fail to amaze him, as he simply had no more surprise left.

  The stars around them flashed. Surrounded by individual nimbuses of harsh white light, Michiko and Kyodai spiraled up and around each other in a fluid double spiral, circling mirror images of each other. Despite their speed, ferocity, and confidence, the women seemed small and insignificant against the mighty serpent’s coils. It was like they were rising to battle the sky itself after the sky had sprouted teeth and claws to receive them.

  Toshi noted that Kyodai’s transformation seemed to have baffled O-Kagachi’s unerring sense of the Taken One’s location. Either that or he simply did not recognize the fierce warrior-maiden who now confronted him. If he did, he continued on to meet her as he would any other foe. Toshi had hoped there would be some sign, some form of acknowledgment between the two powerful spirits, but his hopes were quickly dashed. This did not truly surprise him; family relationships were often difficult.

  Michiko broke formation first, soaring wide under O-Kagachi’s lowest head. As she’d intended, the head oriented on her and snapped its massive jaws. Michiko was too quick, however, easily zipping out of range of those gargantuan fangs.

  As the rest of his coils pressed ever downward, O-Kagachi’s head roared after the princess. Powered by the great roiling muscles in his neck, the serpent’s jaws overtook Michiko in a heartbeat. She disappeared behind the massive, square head, but dropped below the serpent’s strike by letting herself fall rather than trying to fly out of danger. The moment she had cleared O-Kagachi’s bottom jaw, Michiko swooped back along its neck, aiming her bow at another head over the edge of the forest.

  Kyodai rose like a rocket, following one of the serpent’s necks to the uppermost head. Two other heads harried her as she climbed, snapping with their jaws and trying to batter her from the sky with teeth clenched tight. She weaved and dodged around the central neck, narrowly avoiding her attackers. They could not catch her, could not harm her, could not stop her. She was a beautiful song of battle come to life in the skies over Jukai.

  Suddenly, O-Kagachi flexed the great sinews in the neck Kyodai was ascending. It was barely a nudge from where Toshi was sitting, but from a giant even a nudge is devastating. Kyodai was hurled violently away, glowing as she soared back to the ground like a shooting star.

  Michiko was just stretching her bow when Kyodai was struck from the sky. The princess let fly with her arrow and changed course so that she streaked to intercept her sister before Kyodai hit the ground. Judging by her speed, Toshi knew she’d make it in time.

  The arrow was just as strange as the warrior who’d fired it. The bolt started normally as it sped straight and true toward a thick rope of O-Kagachi’s coils. Halfway to its mark, the arrow burst into brilliant, sparkling light that cast a red tint over the serpent’s mammoth scales. The wooden shaft and white feathers were no longer visible—Michiko’s arrow had become a flashing bolt of pure scarlet power.

  The red missile tore through O-Kagachi’s hide and disappeared below the serpent’s scales. A single gout of thick, black liquid jetted out. What flowed through O-Kagachi’s veins was not blood, but a strange miasma of dark humors. To Toshi, the muck seemed like jagged shards of the void suspended in a torrent of shadow. The thick cloud dispersed quickly as it flowed away from the serpent, but the splinters of void lingered in the sky.

  The wound then swelled and burst as the magical bolt that caused it exploded.

  O-Kagachi howled and thrashed, but Toshi could see that it was not gravely hurt. Michiko’s attack had blown a man-sized hole in the serpent’s neck, but it was barely a pinprick to such a massive beast.

  Toshi looked back to the sisters and saw that Michiko had indeed stopped Kyodai’s fall. The two warrior-maidens clasped hands and streaked toward the closest head. They left a brilliant line of white in their wake that slowly crumbled to powder and fell like snow. They changed course once the other heads began to close on them, rolled, and then punched through the tough scales on the serpentine neck below them.

  Time seemed to slow as the sisters disappeared into O-Kagachi’s body. It was one thing to see a bolt of magic sink under the great brute’s hide, but this was the sisters themselves. Toshi stared at the entry wound Michiko and Kyodai had made going in, willing them to come back out. Any second now, he told himself. Any second now.

  Toshi discovered a new vein of surprise when the sisters burst free from the opposite side of O-Kagachi’s thick neck. Huge chunks of muscle and meat blew out with them, along with a great wash of the nauseating mist of darkness and void. Though the muck came Michiko and Kyodai, still unmarred, pristine, and on the offensive.

  This time O-Kagachi did roar, and the dragon made a much more terrible sound when it was pained than it did when angry. At last the old serpent broke off his descent and turned his full attention on the fast-moving insects that continued to sting and annoy him.

  All eight of the serpent’s heads now turned and joined against the sisters. Driven and pursued from all directions, Michiko and Kyodai were forced to separate. It seemed impossible that they would be able to stay away from so many fast-moving threats—O-Kagachi was so large there was hardly anywhere else to be but in his way.

  But the sisters moved in flawless unison to use the serpent’s size against him. They were both small and fast enough to dodge his strikes out in the open, but they were even more effective in close quarters. Together they circled around his necks and zipped between his coils so that he could not strike at them without hitting himself. O-Kagachi was too old to do himself serious injury this way, but Toshi did see heads slamming solidly into coils and other heads as the serpent tried to crush these annoyances against his own body.

  From the confusion of scales and coils, two of O-Kagachi’s heads struggled free. They both extended toward the central mass of the serpent, where Michiko and Kyodai buzzed around his body like bees around a hive. Michiko was managing her bow well as she flew, sending bolt after bolt of red fire into O-Kagachi’s hide. Kyodai was likewise attacking whenever her path took her close to the serpent’s skin, though Toshi could not see the method she was using. It was most likely her bare hands, or perhaps her teeth, for each time she skimmed the surface of O-Kagachi’s scales she left a wake of scintillating stars and long, ragged rents in his flesh.

  While the sisters continued to nettle him, the wily old serpent struck. He lashed out at both women with the heads he had worked free, one lagging a second behind the other. Each sister dodged, but O-Kagachi changed the lagging head’s course and intercepted Michiko as the princess safely avoided the first strike.

  It was a glancing blow but enough to shatter Michiko’s bow and send the princess soaring straight up. In a second she was gone from sight, hurled so high that Toshi wondered if she’d ever come down.

  Michiko’s injury had an effect on Kyodai, though Toshi couldn’t tell if she felt the same blow as the princess or if she was simply shocked by brutality of it. Whatever the reason, Kyodai paused for a split second too long as she tried to follow Michiko’s upward flight. O-Kagachi hooked one of his necks below Kyodai and rose up with his jaws spread wide. Kyodai disappeared behind those terrible teeth and vanished into the serpent’s snapping maw.

  Toshi stood completely stunned as the last, thinnest thread of hope snapped. The sisters had never posed a serious threat to O-Kagachi, but they had stood against him longer than anything else could have. While they were alive and active, Toshi could contemplate seeing another day. Now that Kyodai was being digested and Michiko was halfway to the moon, there was nothing to stop O-Kagachi from razing all of Kamigawa, starting with the patch Toshi currently occupied.