Toshi glanced back at Michiko, who no longer had the guile to conceal her emotions. She looked tired, frightened, and almost ready to surrender. He wished Kobo were here. Not just to simplify his options, but because the big ox was useful. Strong, obedient, good in a fight, and most of all, he kept his mouth shut.

  “Well?” Mochi said. “Another few moments and this discussion will be moot. I will defend the princess myself if I have to. Michiko must survive this night. You have no such imperative.”

  “So you’ll just leave me here to rot.”

  “Basically.”

  “Unless I tell you what I want from you kami.”

  “Exactly. Ask, and it shall be granted. Join us, Toshi. You can’t do everything alone.”

  Thoughts of Kobo bubbled through Toshi’s mind. He turned to the Myojin of Night’s Reach.

  “Hey,” he called. “Let me hear it from you. You will give me what I want, when I want it, and all I have to do is ask.”

  The dire figure did not reply, but instead simply stared with her cold, vacant mask. Slowly, the alabaster chin dipped and then rose again.

  Michiko finally broke, tears streaming from her eyes. “Do it, Toshi. Please. You don’t have to save me, but please … help my friends.”

  Toshi watched her tears fall. A cold smile turned up the corners of his lips.

  “I know what I want from the kami,” Toshi said. “And I will call for it, humbly, when and if I need it.”

  Mochi cocked his head. “If?”

  “If,” Toshi confirmed. “I may not require a kami blessing after all, Mochi. Not when I have all the power I need right here.”

  With a smooth, sudden motion, Toshi drew his sword and lunged, sending the point toward Michiko’s throat.

  * * * * *

  Pearl-Ear tore a long strip of flesh from an orochi’s arm as she grappled with it. There must have been over twenty of the snakes outside the cave, but they were finding the kitsune more formidable than before. The lack of weapons made the foxes more alert, quicker and more savage. The kitsune quickly formed a line with their back to the cave and repulsed wave after wave of the snakefolk’s attack.

  Pearl-Ear and Riko were likewise unable to gain access to the cave, but they were poised to do so as soon as the steady flow of orochi broke. They seemed endless, but the snakes had not endured the days-long sprint that brought them here anywhere near as well as the kitsune had. Outnumbered five-to-one, Pearl-Ear and her kin were easily holding their own.

  Something sharp whistled past her ear, and the orochi charging toward her screamed. The snake fell, holding a bleeding gash on its neck. Pearl-Ear silenced his struggles with a heel to the back of his skull. Three more solid whispers shot out of the cave, glancing off orochi and leaving long, gaping wounds.

  Pearl-Ear concentrated, and she was able to see the fast-moving blades. They were small and black, shaped like two-dimensional birds. They had no eyes, and their entire bodies were the color of dull coal, with no differentiation among beaks, feet, and wings. The mock-birds sliced whatever they touched, swarming around the snakes like hornets, slashing them open and driving them back from the cave.

  “Hey, you kitsune,” Toshi yelled. “Duck.”

  Pearl-Ear heard a flurry of razor wings as she tackled Riko to the ground. Sharp-Ear and the brothers also took cover as a cloud of the sharp bird-things surged out of the cave and began flaying the snakes alive.

  It was a terrible sight, one that would have shocked Lady Pearl-Ear a short time ago. She had been inured to blood and violence over the past few days, however, and the awful cloud of screaming snakes and spattering blood barely horrified her at all. Riko, blessed child, turned her face away.

  The storm of razor birds was brief but spectacular. When it died away, not a snake was left standing outside the cave. Pearl-Ear’s keen ears heard more orochi approaching in the distance, but for now she had a moment’s respite.

  The flock of false birds retreated back to the cave entrance and hovered there, blocking the entrance. Pearl-Ear heard the sharp snap of human fingers, and then the curtain of sharp wings split down the middle, separating as Toshi emerged with sword in hand.

  The curtain closed behind him. He looked around, spotting Pearl-Ear and Riko and the rest of the kitsune. He looked confident and strong, but the mischievous grin was belied by the stern glare in his eyes.

  He nodded to Lady Pearl-Ear. “Where’s the wizard boy?”

  She didn’t answer him immediately. All she could see was the man who had taken Michiko. “Nearby,” she growled at last. “Where is Michiko?”

  Toshi pointed over his shoulder. “In there. We’ll have our reunion once the orochi are dealt with.”

  Indeed, Sharp-Ear and the others were already engaging the second wave of snakes. This one was larger than the first, and Pearl-Ear guessed that the word was spreading among the snakefolk: our quarry is here. She briefly wondered how many of them had come after Michiko, and how many they’d have to subdue before they could take the princess home.

  Toshi strode forward. As he passed Lady Pearl-Ear, she sprang to her feet and dug her claws into his arm. “Take me to Michiko.”

  Toshi shrugged, and a powerful jolt of force tossed Pearl-Ear back onto her rear.

  “If it’s all the same to you foxes,” he said, “I’ll handle this.”

  He drew his sword, and Pearl-Ear shielded her eyes. The weapon’s edge was glowing white, not hot but brighter than the midday sun. The glow spread down the length of the blade and spilled over onto Toshi himself. It ran up his arms, over his shoulders, and across the rest of his body until he was surrounded by a nimbus of brilliant purplish light. When he moved, there seemed to be several of him at once as he flickered around the battle site.

  And move he did. Pearl-Ear’s sharp eyes were barely able to follow as Toshi darted around the area. She took in a series of strobe images: Toshi with his sword through an orochi’s chest; Toshi standing next to a beheaded snake; Toshi cutting three throats with a single stroke. In each attack, he was gone before the blood could flow, flashing to a new target as soon as he’d struck the current one.

  As the ochimusha flashed around the forest like a mad hummingbird, the kitsune all stared in amazement. They didn’t need to defend themselves, as every snake in the area was focused on stopping Toshi. Scaled body parts continued to fly and orochi continued to drop as Toshi became a blur even to their keen eyes.

  Lady Pearl-Ear recognized magical enhancement when she saw it, but she didn’t understand how Toshi had become so dangerous. She watched him pursue a small group of orochi to the far side of the glen and then rolled to her feet and charged the cave entrance.

  The razor birds across the entrance were so thick they appeared as a solid mass. Pearl-Ear felt a hundred pinpricks and slashes on her skin as she covered her face and plunged into the blockage. The pain was manageable so long as she didn’t slow down. The birds didn’t seem to be attacking her as they had the orochi, but they were numerous enough to cause her real harm if she wasn’t careful.

  A powerful hand caught her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her free from the wall of birds, back out to the forest glen.

  “That’s a terrible idea,” Toshi said. “I made it very tough to get in there, and you wouldn’t like what you saw anyway.” He was still shining brightly, but not as brightly as before. Whatever he had used to enchant himself seemed to be wearing off.

  Pearl-Ear slapped his glowing hand off her. “I will see Michiko now.”

  “Not a chance.” Toshi pointed back to the hill that kept spawning orochi. “The grunts have been dealt with. But the generals are still to come.”

  Pearl-Ear followed his hand and saw a half-dozen kannushi priests on the hillside. They had clasped hands and were chanting. They alternated between hisses, shouts, and groans, but the rhythm was clearly that of a summoning ritual. Lady Pearl-Ear understood enough of the words to make her heart sink.

  Riko had been standing next to the entrance of the cave, gingerly testing the wall of birds, but now she called anxiously to Pearl-Ear. “They’re summoning their kami,” she said.

  “I hear.” Pearl-Ear stepped in front of Toshi. “Can your birds deflect a major spirit?”

  “Maybe. I’ve never tried. Probably not.”

  “Then let us take her from here. It’s not safe.”

  Toshi’s glow was almost completely gone. “It will be,” he said. He sheathed his sword and drew a finely crafted silver jitte.

  “Stand back,” he said. “And watch how we deal with rogue spirits in Numai.”

  Toshi strode toward the priests on the hill with his jitte out and ready. He trusted the razor birds to keep the foxes clear of his cave until he was ready to let them in … which might never happen. He would worry about that after he survived the next few moments.

  A thin green shoot rose out of the ground a short distance from the chanting priests. As the first grew and thickened, a second rose from the soil. A third formed, and a fourth. More of the leafy tendrils climbed toward the sky and braided themselves together.

  When the vertical shoots were tall and thick enough to be counted as small trees, the lateral growth began. Branches jetted out from the central mass, perpendicular to the ground. In turn, more growth flowed from these horizontal limbs, and the entire mass of living wood grew heavier, stronger, and harder as the ground compressed beneath its burgeoning weight.

  A woman’s face formed near the top of the construct, one not unlike the Myojin of Night’s Reach. It was a similar mask of a woman’s face, but this one seemed to be made of smooth, polished wood. Where the black kami was surrounded by a dark shroud and pale hands, the orochi’s kami was draped in leaves and moss. Her “hair” was in fact another stand of miniature trees, and her arms curved around her body as they grew and thickened. The more the kannushi priests chanted, the more wood growth occurred.

  You have done much damage here, the wood spirit droned. Too much. Surrender the child. The balance must be restored.

  Toshi stopped a mere ten yards from the kami. “Why did you tie Kobo to those trees?”

  The spirit’s growth continued. Her face tilted down as if noticing Toshi for the first time.

  “I asked you a question. None of this would be happening if you’d left my partner alone.”

  You’re referring to the apostate. The one who turned his back on his own tribe.

  “I’m referring to my oath-bound brother, yes. Kobo.”

  My children hung him out for the monks to see. He was dressed as they were. We left him to his own kind. Later, he died in the rain.

  Toshi stroked his chin with the tip of his jitte. “Not good enough. Not by a long shot.” He pointed the jitte at the wooden mask. “I’m going to have to punish you now.”

  Thick, ripe vines erupted out of the ground and coiled around Toshi’s wrists. He strained against them, but they held fast. Two more leafy ropes crawled from the soil and wrapped around his ankles.

  Punish me? Little man, you have a very high opinion of yourself.

  “I do, at that. But you’ll find me worthy of it.”

  The kannushi on the hill continued to chant. Behind him, Toshi could hear the kitsune attempting to storm through the cave entrance, but the birds repulsed them time and again.

  What will you do, then, little conjurer? Poison me? Burn me? I am the life force of the forest itself. Fell every tree, and I emerge from the roots unscathed. Plow up the roots, and I shall return when the first seed blooms. Raze all the Jukai down to the bare rock, and I shall survive in the grass, in the moss, in farmer’s fields and the city’s gardens. I am the essence of life itself, of unbridled growth and unrestricted vigor. What weapon can you bring to bear that would harm me?

  The vines tightened on Toshi’s wrists and ankles. He felt the rough texture biting into his flesh. He looked up into the wood kami’s expressionless face.

  The ochimusha smiled. He closed his eyes and said, “Myojin of Night’s Reach. I seek your blessing … now.”

  * * * * *

  Michiko stood frozen as Toshi’s sword sang toward her throat. She was off her guard, exhausted, and overwhelmed by the things she had seen and experienced. It was all she could do to watch as her death homed in.

  But Toshi brought the blade up short, stopping it less than finger’s width from her neck. Mochi cried out angrily. The ochimusha was oblivious, focused exclusively on the tip of his weapon.

  Michiko stood perfectly still, staring down the long blade at Toshi’s intent face. They maintained this stance for agonizingly long, until Michiko could no longer hold her breath. She exhaled, and this slight motion sent a cascade of tears falling from the paths they had forged down her face.

  The tears struck the end of Toshi’s sword, clear saltwater sparkling and steaming on the blade. Michiko took a half-step back so that she was touching the cave wall, and Toshi followed her, keeping the blade steady and almost touching her throat. More droplets fell from her face to the edge of his weapon.

  “The tears of a princess,” Toshi said. “That ought to give me a boost.”

  He pulled the sword back and pointed the tip up. Michiko’s tears ran down the length, but before they could spill over onto the hilt, Toshi spun and flicked his weapon toward the pile of hay kanji. The symbols hissed and crackled where the tears touched them, and the pile began to rustle, eager to achieve full animation and take flight.

  “And that will pep them up, once I turn them loose.” The sword had begun to glow softly, a gentle white sheen. Toshi ran the blade along the top of his forearm, then sheathed it, subduing the light.

  Mochi was no longer smiling. “You are very clever, Toshi Umezawa.”

  “Yes, I am.” He turned his back on the moon kami and faced the towering dark figure at the rear of the cave.

  “I have just about everything I need,” he said to her. “And what I don’t have, I can steal. But there is one thing that want. One gift you can grant that I have never been able to capture.”

  “What about me? “Mochi interjected. “I can grant blessings, too.”

  Toshi paused, casting a glance over his shoulder. “One at a time.” He turned back to the black kami and sighed. ‘With a great show of resignation, Toshi lowered himself to one knee.

  “Lady,” he said. “I have led a tumultuous life. Everywhere I go, I am braced by the chattering of nezumi, the shrieks of akki, and the hissing of snakes. They threaten; they demand; they ask endless questions. What I want now, and for the rest of my life upon demand, is silence. I yearn for it. And if I get it, I will hoard it and savor it more completely than any miser’s treasure.”

  Mochi began scoffing instantly. “What good will that do? It may help you gain entry to a rich man’s house, thief, but it’s of no use here.”

  Toshi did not turn. “I am ready to accept your blessing if you are ready to bestow it. Become my patron, Lady.” He waved back at Mochi. “Let’s start with him.”

  The Myojin of Night’s Reach drifted forward, bending so that her alabaster face was a mere foot from Toshi’s. Her flowing shroud filled the cave from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling.

  Done. The mournful, hollow voice rang in Toshi’s ears, though the kami’s pale, frozen lips did not move.

  The white mask rose and withdrew. The kami’s black robes retracted back into the center of her being; the banner behind her folded and sank like a foundered ship. All the while, the wan face watched Toshi impassively. At last, it too disappeared into the shadows that spawned it.

  Toshi turned. Michiko was still staring at him, shock-still against the wall of the cave. He winked.

  “That’s not what I had in mind at all,” Mochi said. “But you may yet surprise me, ochimusha.” He stepped closer to Michiko. “Come, Princess. Let’s see if his scheme will work as well as the one I had. If not, you can always call on me.”

  Toshi grinned and tapped his ear. “Didn’t catch any of that, actually,” he said. “Michiko, say something.”

  “What?” She looked in helpless confusion from Mochi to Toshi. “What can I say that will make sense of this madness?”

  “I heard that,” Toshi said. “You may have been right, fat boy. This kami blessing stuff is a real boon.”

  Mochi smiled again, but his eyes were cold and challenging.

  Toshi drew his jitte and gave the pile of hay figures a stir.

  “Rise up, my beauties,” he said. “It’s time to play.”

  * * * * *

  Held fast in the forest kami’s grip, Toshi reopened his eyes. He felt something cold and vast piling up behind him, like a stiff wind on a winter night. Mochi had been correct about one thing at least: calling on the spirits’ power directly was more intense and exhilarating than channeling it through kanji. He could see why so many people were so devout in their prayers. It felt too good—addictively so.

  He actually felt the quiet building up inside him as if it were a totally new thing instead of the absence of one. It was like pressure in his ears and throat, pressure that threatened to spill out of his head from every orifice.

  Toshi saw the manifest spirit of the forest before him. He imagined the orochi stronghold where he’d been held, picturing the large, ritual clearing in his mind. Like the akki, these forest dwellers were chanters, and they were probably gathered there by the score to combine their prayers, to call upon their patron spirit and focus its power.

  A vine lashed out from the forest spirit’s body and coiled around Toshi’s neck. It choked him only slightly as it forced his face up.

  Now you die, the forest kami said. And all those that stand with you. The balance must be restored.

  “Milady,” Toshi croaked. “Grant me your blessing. I call … for silence.”

  Then the power did explode from him, a black stream of liquid light that gushed from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Blind, deaf, and dumb at the epicenter of this storm, Toshi nonetheless saw the countless thousands of pale white hands grasping in the black river that rushed from his face to the great forest kami’s.