Then Toshi’s mind seized up and the world disappeared from his senses. He lost all sensation of time and place, not drifting in a void but part of that void, indistinguishable from it. His body was a portal, a lens through which the great patron spirit of the Takenuma Swamp now focused its power.

  Unsure if he were alive or dead, unconcerned in either case, Toshi laughed. It was a huge, rolling blast of joy, but it came with no sound. Not even Toshi heard his own throaty roar as the geyser of black force slammed into the Myojin of Life’s Web, obscuring her under a tide of darkness.

  * * * * *

  Far to the north, in the ritual clearing of the orochi-bito, the frenzied rite continued. The priests and snakes had been chanting for days without interruption, and the figure of their patron kami had grown almost as large as the clearing itself. Her smooth wooden face had dried and fallen like an autumn leaf, signifying her mind had traveled elsewhere.

  This did nothing to diminish the supplicant’s fervor, for they knew where she had gone. Soon, the child of blasphemy would be excised and the proper order of things could be restored.

  Here, she was supreme. From here, she could go anywhere in the Jukai, perhaps anywhere in the world. She was Nature, unrestrained and rampant. She was Life itself, vast and complex. Her ultimate designs were inscrutable, and her full power was irresistible. There was no denying her grandeur, no escaping her influence. All hail the Myojin of Life’s Web.

  A strange new sound rose over the ruckus. The revelers’ noise dimmed for a moment but then rose again, louder than before, determined to drown out the competing voice. It was a male voice, a human voice. It was laughing.

  A dark shadow formed on the kami’s body at the point where her face had been. The shadow became a cloud, and the cloud spread out across the living wooden mass, groping and testing the air like a spider in the dark. The kami’s body shuddered as if struck and then groaned as it tried to contain an awesome force that swelled it like an overfull wineskin.

  A sheet of black light streamed out from the center of the kami, covering the entire clearing and everything in it. As the veneer of shadow touched the kannushi and the orochi-bito gathered there, their voices stilled. Ponderous, palpable silence descended on the clearing as every shout, hiss, and prayer died in the throats that uttered them.

  Deprived of its spiritual sustenance, the kami’s form began to dry and crack. The thinnest branches on its outer layers split and fell away; the broad trunks that looped and curved around the central mass now sloughed bark, littering the ground with brittle wooden flakes. The wood under that bark was not live, fragrant cedar, but cold, gray deadwood. More of the kami’s body collapsed in on itself, and the central tree began to sway.

  The black sheet vanished from the revelers, but they were still struck dumb. Some fled, while others simply watched, but none of them could stop the horror as their patron spirit, their god, was diminished before their very eyes.

  * * * * *

  The vines around Toshi’s body went slack. He gulped air and wrenched his hands and feet free. The tendrils creaked as they tried to hold on, but their force was spent and they would grow no more.

  Toshi stepped clear of the disintegrating wood and locked eyes with the kami’s wooden mask. For once, he offered no barb, jibe, or taunt. He simply watched as the great forest spirit withered, dying as quickly as it had grown.

  It was as if the seasons were passing in a matter of moments. The summertime vitality of a healthy tree faded into the muted colors and dormancy of autumn, then declined into the dry and apparent lifelessness of winter. Leaves fell, shriveled, and vanished on the wind. The branches sagged and cracked, and when they broke they shattered into splinters and dust.

  Behind the dying form of the kami, her monks continued to chant with their hands locked. No sound passed their lips, but they refused to stop.

  Their orochi associates were either smarter or more superstitious. The snakes screamed when they saw what Toshi had done. Alone or in small groups, the orochi-bito turned and ran, fleeing the horror outside the cave.

  Toshi waited until the kami’s body looked more like an ancient, fragile deadfall than a hearty forest grove. Then, he turned back to the mouth of the cave, put his fingers to his lips, and blew a shrill whistle.

  The razor birds responded instantly. They rushed from the cave and swarmed around the collapsing pile of dry wood, accelerating its demise by chopping it into tiny pieces. The cloud of savage creatures buzzed and completely enveloped the kami’s remains. They continued to swoop and strike until there was nothing left but a wide pile of what appeared to be mulch mixed with ashes.

  Toshi whistled again. He pointed over the hill where the kannushi priests still stood.

  “Snakes and monks,” Toshi called. “Chase them home and kill any who stop to rest.”

  The flock flew faster and faster in a circle over the fallen kami. Then, pairs and trios began to peel off, surging north through the forest. Some descended on the hilltop, and as they raised bleeding slashes on the monks’ exposed arms, the staid priests at last abandoning their ritual and running for cover among the trees. The razor birds followed, whirring and clattering as they flew.

  Toshi looked at his jitte as the power of the kami faded from him. He hadn’t even needed to carve a kanji. Smiling, he twirled his weapon and sheathed it on his hip.

  He turned in time to see the backs of Lady Pearl-Ear, the wizard girl, and the smallest kitsune male hurrying into the cave. His smile faded and he cocked his head.

  “Hello?” he called. “I just saved us all? Anyone care to thank me?”

  Tough, unyielding hands seized him and pinned his arms behind him. Toshi smelled blood and fresh meat, felt coarse, muddy fur against his skin. Someone kicked his feet out from under him.

  “Thank you,” one of the kitsune warriors said. Two of the foxfolk held him down while the third relieved him of his weapons.

  Toshi struggled, but they held him fast. He craned his neck to view the entrance to the cave, but no one was emerging yet. The foxes holding him growled, and Toshi bared his teeth, smiling savagely.

  “Here,” he said, “is where things get interesting.”

  Michiko hardly dared to believe her eyes when her friends came rushing into Toshi’s cave. Pearl-Ear, Riko, and Sharp-Ear all looked as if they’d spent a month in the woods and they stank of meat and musk. How long had they been searching, and what trials had they endured?

  Before she could say a word, Michiko was swept up in Lady Pearl-Ear’s arms. Her teacher’s embrace almost brought them both to the floor of the cave, but then Riko and Sharp-Ear were there, propping her up as they joined the embrace.

  “You’re alive,” Sharp-Ear said happily. “I’m really quite relieved.”

  “Is this real, my friends? Have you truly found me?” Michiko muttered.

  “You’re safe now.” Pearl-Ear pushed back and peered into Michiko’s face. “Are you hurt? Did he harm you in any way?”

  Michiko paused before replying, daunted by the intensity in Lady Pearl-Ear’s eyes. Was that blood on the sensei?

  “No,” she said at last. “He had a great deal to contend with. He was too preoccupied to pay me much mind.” Michiko realized that Riko was still clinging to her.

  “Riko?” she said, gently pushing her friend back.

  “Sorry. I’m just so glad to see you. Choryu will be delighted.” She put her hand on Michiko’s shoulder. “I am delighted. I’m very glad you’re safe, Princess.”

  Michiko nodded. She turned to Lady Pearl-Ear and said, “I know what my father did. I know why the spirits make war.”

  Sadness crept across Pearl-Ear’s joyful face. “Hush now, my child. There will be time for such things later. But first, we must get you away from here.”

  Michiko peered over Lady Pearl-Ear’s shoulder toward the mouth of the cave. “The snakes are gone?”

  The fox-woman nodded. “And their kami with them. Your abductor managed to beat them back almost single-handedly. Where did he acquire such power? He didn’t have it when the orochi attacked before.”

  Riko added, “And if he did, he chose not to employ it.”

  Michiko reddened. “He and I came to an arrangement while we waited. We agreed to help each other.” She shrugged. “We were both at risk, so we put aside our differences.”

  Sharp-Ear laughed. “Fair enough. Why don’t we ask him ourselves?”

  Michiko nodded. “Yes. Take me to him.”

  The sunlight outside the cave stung her eyes, but Michiko adjusted quickly. She noticed the bodies of many orochi-bito, but she did not dwell on them. In the tower, she had rarely seen violence and death up close. Since she’d left, she seemed to see nothing else.

  They led her to the bottom of a hillside, where two muddy kitsune warriors held Toshi pinned to the ground. A third stood over the struggling ochimusha, wielding Toshi’s own sword.

  “Princess,” the sword-bearer called. “I am Frost-Tail. My brothers and I welcome you and pledge our service.”

  “Thank you, Frost-Tail.” She bowed curtly. “Let him up.”

  “Hear, hear,” Toshi grunted.

  “I think not,” Pearl-Ear said. “He will return with us to Eiganjo, bound if necessary. He has done you a great service today, but he also—”

  “I said let him up.” Michiko strode forward and planted her feet as she glowered down at the kitsune. “He works for me now.”

  “Michiko,” Pearl-Ear said gently. “I understand that you’re grateful to the outlaw. But he must—”

  “I am Princess Michiko Konda,” she said. “The Daimyo’s daughter and heir to the throne of Towabara. But I am also in league with this man. For my life, for the answers I seek, and for the foreseeable future, I have retained the services of his hyozan reckoners.”

  Pearl-Ear started to speak, then was silent. Sharp-Ear’s face showed surprise, but his eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth. Riko stood as if pole-axed.

  “Michiko?” she squeaked. “You didn’t join a reckoner gang.”

  “No,” Michiko said. “But I am hiring the services of this one.”

  “If you’ll let me up now,” Toshi said from underneath Dawn-Tail, “I still have business to conduct.”

  * * * * *

  Toshi knew it had been a long shot, but successfully soliciting a commission from the princess was worth it, just for the look on the kitsune party’s faces.

  “How could you agree to this?” Lady Pearl-Ear demanded. Her maternal demeanor and warm tones had given way to the cold, sharp voice of a disappointed mentor.

  “I didn’t trust him,” Michiko said. “In fact, I feared him. This was the only way I could think of to ensure he wouldn’t harm me before you arrived.”

  “But he’s a criminal. These hyozan, they’re all criminals. What will you do when they come knocking and tell you you’re obliged to go a-thieving with them?”

  “Doesn’t work like that,” Toshi said. “What we have is a for-hire arrangement. A business deal between enlightened individuals.”

  “Is that what they’re calling murder gangs these days? Enlightened individuals?” The largest kitsune sneered. Each of the foxes looked as if he’d like to get his arm around Toshi’s throat one last time.

  “He is using you, Michiko, using your good nature and trust to exploit—”

  “My father used me,” Michiko said evenly. “The orochi tried to use me. The kami want to use me. Everyone seems to want me for something. Toshi is the only one who offered to be of use in return.

  “I have much to tell you Lady Pearl-Ear … Riko … all of you. I have seen the cause of the Kami War. I am more committed than ever to stopping it. And I will use … yes, use … whatever and whomever I can to make this happen: my father’s trust, the knowledge archived at Minamo, and the services of hyozan criminals. They are all my tools, and I will make the most of them. It is no different than what every leader does for the sake of her people.”

  Pearl-Ear stared at Michiko, then sadly shook her head. “I think you have made a terrible mistake,” she said. “But I will be there to help you survive it.”

  “Thank you, Lady Pearl-Ear.”

  The fox-woman turned to Toshi and said, “And you, ochimusha? What will you do now?”

  Toshi had been waiting for this. While he had been pinned by the kitsune, the white-haired wizard had come out of the brush. He had stayed to the rear of the group, saying little. Toshi had not taken his eyes off him.

  “First,” he said, pointing at the wizard boy, “I’m going to settle up with your friend there.”

  Choryu blinked. “Me? What are you talking about now, you cutthroat?”

  Michiko stepped up to him. “What do you mean by this?”

  Toshi raised his voice, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Kobo … my partner … wasn’t killed by the orochi. He was killed by that waste of space right there.”

  Choryu’s face went slack. “No,” he said. “You all saw. The snakes tied him up and smothered him.”

  “They smothered him enough to subdue him,” Toshi agreed. “And they tied him up. But they didn’t kill him.

  “Kobo had water in his lungs. He drowned. It would take more than a rainstorm to force liquid down the throat of an ogre’s apprentice. It would take a river, or an ocean tide, focused right at his face. The orochi don’t conjure powerful streams of water, as a rule, do they? But I know someone who does.”

  “It’s a lie,” Choryu said. He looked pleadingly at the faces all turned toward him. “Why would I kill the big man?”

  “Because you couldn’t find me. Because you saw him fight and feared what he could do if he stood against you.” Toshi looked from face to face, challenging anyone to refute his accusation. “Because you panicked when you thought you might not lure Michiko to the Academy.” Toshi gestured impatiently. “Come on, kitsune forest-folk. Tell me you didn’t smell his scent on Kobo’s body.”

  Sharp-Ear glanced at the brothers. “We don’t smell like that. There is no way to be sure.”

  “I’m sure. You’re a dead man, wizard.

  “‘The only way to avoid it is if we can’t find you,’” Toshi intoned. His eyes grew cold and hard. “I’ve already found you.”

  “There will be no killing here,” Lady Pearl-Ear said. The kitsune foxes formed up behind her, screening Choryu from Toshi.

  Michiko nodded. “Choryu is my friend. If he has done what you say he has, I shall—”

  “Sorry,” Toshi said. “But you’re the last person who should be in my way. Weren’t you there when Mochi told us not to trust anyone who tries to bring you to the Academy? This little stain is from the academy. And he killed Kobo.”

  “I mourn the loss of your partner, sincerely. But under no circumstances will I…”

  She went on, but Toshi had stopped listening. He casually reached inside the waistband of his trousers and drew out a kanji formed of woven hay. It was a different character than the one that created the razor birds, one with the hyozan triangle as its central motif. The kanji for “guilty” was contained within the triangle.

  “Sorry,” Toshi said again, and tossed the kanji over their heads. All eyes followed its arc as Toshi called, “Kobo is dead. Mark his killer and take him back to the beginning.”

  The small folded character shifted in flight, becoming less brittle and acquiring a dull red glow. It maintained its shape, though it squirmed like a living thing.

  The kanji floated for a moment, then streaked down at Choryu. The white-haired wizard yelped and sent a stream of thick blue water surging at the kanji, but the character splashed through almost unhindered.

  It flew straight into Choryu’s face and fixed itself to his forehead. Choryu screamed as the symbol burned into his flesh, burrowing down through the layers of skin until it hit bone.

  “Spirits of Minamo,” he cried. “Help me!”

  Water shot from his hands as the kanji magic took hold. It lifted him off the ground, rotating him slightly, and Choryu screamed. He clawed at his face, his feet flailing wildly, all the while continuing to ascend.

  “Lady Pearl-Ear, Riko, anybody,” he wailed. “Stop him! Save me!”

  The kitsune bore Toshi to the ground again, but he did not resist. He stared at Choryu and Choryu alone.

  “Michiko,” the wizard wailed. “Forgive me.”

  The wizard held that final syllable as the kanji picked up speed, hauling him high into the sky. His voice became a distant echo on the wind as he vanished into the clouds.

  Toshi exhaled deeply. “That’s that, then.”

  The foxes tightened their grip. Riko and Lady Pearl-Ear were glaring at him with expressions that changed from shock to horror to murderous intent and back again. The beautiful princess had fixed him with her dazzling eyes, her lips trembling.

  The disappointment on her face raised something like regret in Toshi’s mind. Close to regret, but not quite.

  “He murdered my partner,” he reminded them all.

  Michiko shook her head and then bowed it low. Riko joined her, and one by one, the others followed her example.

  Praying for a cowardly, murdering worm, Toshi thought. I should be so lucky.

  “Shall we bind him for the trip back to the tower,” Sharp-Ear called. “Or should we just hang him here?”

  Toshi barked out a rough laugh. “You know something, boys? Our business here is concluded. Michiko-hime,” he called. “You can contact me in any of the Spire’s elegant public houses. Send a message or a messenger with the hyozan mark.”

  The littlest kitsune’s voice growled from right next to Toshi’s ear. “And how will you get there, outlaw?”

  Toshi glanced back, but he was unable to see.

  “There’s a fresh kanji bleeding on my right arm,” Toshi said. “You can’t see it, but it’s there. Want to see how well it works with a great kami’s blessing? All I have to do is pronounce it, like this: Fade.”