Samurai Son (52 page)

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Hiroshi watched in horror as both Kasumi and Akira vanished before his eyes.
 
As he followed Akira, Kasumi, and Keiko down toward the demon gate, he began to doubt the safety of their mission.
 
Kasumi was Neko, true, and Akira was half Tengu, but Hiroshi never fully counted on any situation where someone else was stronger.
 
As a ninja, he was always used to those in power abusing it.
 
He didn’t trust the Neko any more than he trusted samurai.
 
And his instincts proved correct once again.

After the lake, his slid away from the others and cast a spell of concealment over himself.
 
It was powerful ryu magic that he seldom used because of its cost, but his instincts told him that their lives might be at risk.
 
Still, he was not a powerful Shinobi, being only genin, but the magic was strong enough to not disturb the fire dragon that slept and keep the Guardian from detecting him.

Now he watched as the Guardian shook her head and comforted Keiko, putting her arm around Keiko’s frame.
 
“I’m sorry, my daughter, but it had to be done.
 
The girl is lost to us now.”

“Mother,” Keiko entreated, “Kasumi is strong; the boy can help her fight the demon.”

“She made a bargain, Keiko-chan,” the Guardian said.
 
“We can’t wait for the demon to possess her.
 
It’s too dangerous.”

“Are they dead?”

Kanayo shook her head.
 
“They’re safe and in the prison.
 
Hopefully when the siege is over, we’ll be able to send Takeshi’s son back to him.”

“Assuming the siege will be over in our favor.
 
I heard Nanashi has already broken through the second and third walls.”

Hiroshi’s heart pounded in his ears at the words.
 
He cautiously slid from his hiding place behind the stalagmites and slipped back into the passage that led toward the dragon and out of the caverns.

#

Akira awoke with his head throbbing mercilessly in his ears.
 
He groaned as he lay against hard stone and something lumpy dug into his back.
 
He rolled over and vomited.
 
It was almost completely dark.

Akira?
 
Kasumi’s mental voice touched his mind, and he wiped the bitter taste from his lips with his sleeve.
 
He groped along the floor, and his hand touched the tsuba of his no-dachi.

Windspirit?
he whispered mentally to the sword.
 
The sword did not reply.

Akira?
 
Kasumi’s tone became plaintive.
 
Where are you?

I don’t know,
he replied, unsure as he picked up the no-dachi.
 
The sword was still intact, but he couldn’t hear it in his mind.
 
Something is wrong here.
 
I can’t hear my sword.

Kasumi paused for a moment.
 
You can hear your sword?
 
It talks to you?

Akira frowned.
 
He hadn’t meant to divulge that, but at this point, he didn’t see any reason not to.
 
Yes,
he said.
 
It’s a magic sword.
 
But I can’t hear it now.

I can’t change back either.
 
We’re probably in the Neko dungeons.
 
I’ve heard that there are wards that prevent using most forms of magic.

Akira frowned.
 
He stood up and sheathed the no-dachi.
 
Looking around, he could see that he was in a cell made from stone blocks and fitted with a heavy wooden door.
 
He could feel the wood of the door was thick and seasoned with layers of pine tar and bound with iron.

He stared at the door, bemused.
 
They had let him keep the no-dachi, which meant that they doubted the sword could cut through anything there.
 
It also meant that they weren’t afraid of his attacking the guards either.
 
Perhaps they had some magic that could keep him from fighting them or using the no-dachi.
 
He could sense magic in the cell but couldn’t determine with just his senses whether or not it was something that would preclude him from using Tengu magic.

He stopped himself just as the thought occurred to him.
 
Did he dare throw everything away to use the Tengu magic to escape the dungeon?
 
He looked bleakly at the door again.
 
Without Windspirit’s magic or counsel, he felt powerless.
 
What good was it to be human if the demons broke through the
Kimon
and he did nothing?
 
He would die in this dank place far from home.
 
What did it matter anyway?

Akira-kun?
 
Kasumi’s mental voice broke through his dark thoughts.

Hold on, Kasumi-chan,
he said softly.
 
I’ll get us out; I promise.

Wait.
 
I hear footsteps.

Akira paused.
 
He tried listening but heard nothing except a trickle of water.
 
Are you sure?

A low growl reverberated in his mind.
 
I smell ryu.

Ryu?
 
Did the fire dragon get here somehow?
 
Akira’s hand strayed to the no-dachi.

“Akira-san, is that you?” Hiroshi’s voice whispered through the door.

It’s me, Hiroshi.
 
Where have you been?
 
Akira almost laughed and clapped his hands in elation.

“I thought that hiding might be a good idea.
 
Ninja are good at that.”

I’ll say.
 
The Neko are looking for you.
 
Can you open this?

Akira-kun, what is going on?
 
Kasumi’s mental voice held a tinge of worry.

Hiroshi is working to get us out.

Silence followed as he heard what sounded like faint scratching against metal.
 
The door clicked open and swung in.
 
Before Akira could thank him, Hiroshi was working on a door next to his.
 
The ninja had a small instrument in his hand that looked like a thin chopstick, maneuvering it in and out of the keyhole.

“How did you open this?” Akira whispered.
 
“There’s so much magic protecting these cells.”

Hiroshi grinned wryly.
 
“That’s the problem with kami.
 
They’re always thinking that magic protects everything, but they forget about the simple robber with a lock pick.”
 
The lock clicked and he pulled the handle.
 
“That’s why we ninja are so effective.
 
We’re not above trying
nonmagical
means.”

Kasumi, in her tiger form, peered out.
 
Thank you, Hiroshi.
 
She sighed.
 
We’d best get out of here.
 
She stepped out and snuffed the air.
 
We can make it back to the
Kimon
if we hurry.

“For what purpose?” Hiroshi said.
 
“To get locked up again?”

He’s right, you know,
came Windspirit’s voice in Akira’s head.
 
The Neko will lock you up again.

Akira frowned.
 
“We can’t go back the way we came; we don’t have a boat anymore.”

Kasumi glared at him.
 
I won’t leave.
 
I can’t let Nanashi destroy my people.

Akira glanced at Hiroshi, who gave him a helpless shrug.
 
“I overheard Keiko say that Nanashi’s forces have breached the second and third walls,” the ninja said.

Kasumi gasped.
 
So soon?
 
She looked at Akira, and he could see fear in the tiger’s eyes.

“He must have some sort of special magic,” Akira said, glancing back at the no-dachi for confirmation.
 
The sword made no reply.
 
“It’s true, though.
 
If we return to the Guardian, she’ll just lock us back up.
 
Maybe we could get to the surface and help protect the gates.”

At that moment, a huge explosion shook the passage, throwing them to the ground.

Chapter One Hundred

Akira rolled and leaped to his feet, Windspirit in hand.
 
From somewhere beyond the passage, he heard the sounds of metal on metal and the screams of men and wild cats.
 
His heart pounded in his ears as smoke tinged with sulfur met his nostrils.
 
The sounds of battle echoed wildly throughout the hall but seemed to come from a corridor that headed off to the left and upward out of sight.
 
The choking clouds came from that direction.
 
He could taste the acrid smoke mixed with bile in his mouth.

For a moment, none of them moved.
 
Kasumi had hunched down in a crouched position, her body tense and muscles rippling beneath the fur.
 
Her forked tail lashed furiously as she listened to the sounds.
 
Hiroshi stood ready, his dual ninjato in his hands and his face grim.
 
Akira wondered if the Shinobi would leave or if he would join them in this fight—if they had to fight.

The narrow passage left little space for Akira to wield the no-dachi.
 
Still, he felt the great sword would be far more effective than his
nonmagical
katana or wakizashi.
 
He could feel Windspirit thrum with power, almost as if the no-dachi anticipated the battle to come.

An explosion rocked the floor, and Akira did everything he could to keep his footing.
 
Even so, he ended up catching himself with his left hand on the wall.
 
With the explosion came more smoke and light.
 
Behind the smoke were the shadows of monsters.

Akira stared and, for the first time since the Akuma, was afraid.
 
The creatures coming toward them seemed surreal—large demons in helmets with curved horns and glowing eyes behind the samurai masks.
 
They were armored like men, but he could see that their skin was as red as fresh blood and the stench of sulfur preceded them.
 
They wore the colors of samurai clans and carried katana in their meaty paws.

Akira-chan, those used to be men.
 
Kasumi’s mental voice quavered, echoing his own terror.
 
He didn’t dare turn his gaze for fear he would falter.

I should become Tengu,
Akira thought wildly.
 
I failed with the Akuma; if it hadn’t been for the okami, I would’ve died.

Akira-san,
came Rokuro’s voice.
 
I am here with you.
 
You need not fear the oni; these are not Akuma.
 
You will defeat them.
 
You don’t need to sacrifice yourself and become Tengu here.

The words of his old sensei were like a gentle breeze along a choppy ocean.
 
Rokuro’s confidence calmed him and he nodded.
 
“They are no worse than anything else I have fought,” he whispered.

The first demon strode through the sulfurous smoke.
 
With a yell, Akira leaped on the creature, slashing the no-dachi down in a single diagonal strike from shoulder to hip.
 
The demon raised its sword, but Windspirit flashed and cut through it.
 
The no-dachi slashed into armor and through bone and flesh.
 
The demon screamed and collapsed in a smoldering heap.

Before he could turn on the next demon, Kasumi pounced, knocking the creature down.
 
She tore through the demon’s armor with her claws and ripped the oni’s throat out.
 
But before Akira could assist, another demon attacked, and he slammed the no-dachi into the oni’s eyes.
 
The creature howled as black blood spurted everywhere, covering Akira in a foul, sticky mess.

A demon screamed somewhere behind him.
 
Glancing back, Akira saw that Hiroshi had wrapped the demon up by the legs with a kusarigama chain and buried the blade deep into the creature’s chest.
 
“Akira!
 
Watch out!”

Akira turned in time to see another demon bear down on him.
 
Hiroshi threw shuriken at the demon, and the throwing stars hit the creature in the face.
 
It screamed in pain and rage, and Akira brought the no-dachi across and cut the oni in two.

For a brief moment, Akira stood, expecting more attackers, but when none came, he glanced at his companions.
 
Kasumi’s mouth and claws were black with demon blood, and Hiroshi was pulling the throwing stars from the dead oni’s face.
 
He was covered with the foul blood, but it couldn’t be helped.
 
“Is that it?”

“Unlikely,” Hiroshi said.
 
“Those demons probably were sent to search down the corridors for anyone.
 
Most of them would probably go towards the
Kimon.
”

The
Kimon!
 
Kasumi’s mental voice was near panic.
 
Akira-kun, they’ve opened up the
Kimon.

I don’t think so,
said Windspirit.
 
These are men who became oni.
 
There would be far worse demons than this coming through the
Kimon.

“Windspirit doesn’t think so,” Akira said.
 
“He says these oni used to be men.”

“Your sword says this?”
 
Hiroshi looked at the no-dachi quizzically.

“Long story.”
 
Akira turned to Kasumi.
 
“Could the Guardian hold the
Kimon?
”

Kasumi’s face looked pained.
 
There are the wards and the dragon, assuming they can get by them.
 
Then it depends how many are attacking her.
 
She has her guard and magic, but I don’t think she can hold off a whole army.

Akira started forward but Hiroshi gripped his arm.
 
“What do you think we’d be able to do against an entire army?
 
The Guardian is more powerful than any of us; if she can’t destroy the demons, what hope have we?”

Akira halted and stared at the ninja.
 
Hiroshi made sense.
 
Then again, what was the right thing for him to do?
 
Kasumi had sacrificed everything to save his life to bring him here.
 
It was not his choice, but hers.
 
As a samurai, he had a duty to fight, even if that fight was not winnable.
 
He turned and looked at her.
 
“What do you want to do, Kasumi-chan?”

A low growl issued from her throat.
 
We have to guard the
Kimon,
even if it means dying.
 
If the demons come through the gate…

You would not want to live in such a world,
Windspirit said.
 
The devastation would be unimaginable if the demon gate opened.
 
Flesh-eating demons would gorge on people and raze the land.

Akira closed his eyes and was met with a terrifying vision of Tsuitori-jima in flames, Akuma carrying off people and ripping them apart, blood running fast and thick like rivers.
 
He could see the Tengu as they tried to battle the demons but to no avail.
 
Even the most powerful hurricanes could not beat back the oni.
 
He shuddered as he watched the demons pluck the Tengu from the sky and crack open their bones to eat their marrow…

He met Hiroshi’s gaze.
 
“She’s going and so am I.”

“You’ll die.”

“Some fates are worse than death.
 
Do you want to live in a world where demons walk the land?
 
A quick death would be merciful.”

Without waiting for the Shinobi’s response, Akira turned and led the way up the passage.