Spirit's Princess (27 page)

Aki and I never did go to see the cherry blossoms that year. The days following the departure of the Ookami were taken up with too much work for both of us. Father called his most trusted counselors together to talk about the possible consequences of his decision to refuse Lord Nago’s offer of alliance. He insisted that Aki be present and listened attentively to everything my oldest brother had to say. Aki found this new mark of favor immensely flattering and gratifying. Nothing would keep him from attending those meetings.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Himiko,” he told me when the two of us were working in the fields. “Father asked
me
what I thought!”

“It’s about time,” I said a little grumpily. We’d spent all that morning bent over row after row of seedlings, and my back was stiff and sore. “You’re going to be our next chieftain. He should have included you long ago.”

Aki straightened up and looked away from me. “Don’t
blame Father, Himiko; he tried. I was the one who was too busy. Going on a hunt always seemed more exciting to me than sitting in a circle listening to a bunch of old
—older
men talk on and on.”

“It
is
more exciting,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my arm.

“Only sometimes. And it’s nowhere near as important.”

“Bringing home meat to feed your family’s not important?”

“The decisions we discuss in council affect
every
family in our clan. I don’t know if I’ll make a good chieftain—and I’m in no hurry to find out—but I have to prepare. It’s time I grew up, Himiko.”

I stood and stretched the kinks out of my spine, then slapped dirt from my hands. “Aki, if you’re not grown up, no one is. Look at how old you are! There are boys in our village younger than you who’ve already got wi—” I bit off the end of what I’d been about to say
—wives and children
—and cursed my hasty tongue.

“You make me sound older than Lady Yama,” Aki said lightly. If he’d guessed what I’d nearly said, he didn’t show it. “Even if I were, it wouldn’t carry any weight. Growing up is more than a matter of counting years. There are plenty of old fools in the world.”

And young ones
, I thought, regretting how close I’d come to hurting him. Without another word, I went back to work. If I kept my hands busy, maybe I wouldn’t have the time to say anything else stupid.

Aki bent to his own task, but not before stooping near me and murmuring in my ear, “It’s all right, Himiko. I know
you didn’t mean to say that.” My cheeks flamed as he went on: “If anyone should be embarrassed over what my life lacks, it’s me. And if anyone can mend that, it’s me too.”

Day followed day, and I watched the distant flourish of pink blooms dwindle away, branch by branch, tree by tree.
There will be other seasons
, I told myself. But a nagging whisper of doubt kept asking,
And will they be any different from this one? Branch by branch, tree by tree, life is passing. How long before nothing is left for you but a bare, black twig in your hand?

If Aki’s days since the Ookami visit were occupied by his new importance at Father’s side, mine were filled with the ongoing business of study in Yama’s house. She no longer supervised me when I compounded salves and potions, but trusted me with the entire process, from gathering the ingredients to sealing the finished medicines in their jars. She took special pride in seeing how clearly and cleverly I marked the wet clay stoppering each container with symbols of my own invention.

“Excellent,” she said, kneeling at my side as she watched me put the finishing touch on one project. “Just see to it that you don’t forget to add
my
symbols to yours, or I’ll have to come running to you every time I forget what each jar holds. My half brother Michio taught me this method years ago, to save time and waste. I’ve never had to risk breaking a good jar to find out what’s inside. By the way”—she squinted at the simplified images of a flower and a house I’d used to label one remedy—“what
is
inside this one?”

“The syrup for treating too much stomach gas,” I replied, and we both laughed.

My brother might have missed the season of cherry
blossoms, but he hadn’t forgotten our plan for a far more important journey. One evening, as spring was waning into summer, he took me aside and said, “When can you speak with Lady Yama about accompanying me into the mountains? I don’t want to put this off any longer.”

“I’ll ask her tomorrow,” I said. “Emi will be giving birth soon. I’m going to suggest that I go gather plants that give strength to infants and nursing mothers. They aren’t growing plentifully near the village.”

My brother beamed. “Perfect. Lady Yama’s certain to approve.” He didn’t say what we were both thinking:
And Father won’t be able to object. He’ll do anything to make sure that, this time, the child thrives
.

As I’d expected, I didn’t have to resort to ruses or persuasion when I sought Yama’s aid for our plan. As she and I worked together, tying herbs into bunches for drying, I told her exactly what Aki and I had in mind. Our shaman was fully in favor of it.

“There’s no greater pain for a shaman than being unable to ease suffering,” she said. “I’ve had to watch your brother’s grief for so long, it’s become my own. He’s been carrying an arrow in his flesh for many seasons, and I’m glad that he’s ready to pull it out. Whether it leaves a wound that heals cleanly or it tears his heart, it’s better than bleeding away a little every day.”

“I wish there were another way,” I said. “I don’t want him to be hurt anymore.”

“Not even if he has to be hurt in order to become well? Ah, I can see you don’t care for that idea, but when you’re a healer in your own right, you’ll understand.”

“When I become a healer, I’ll find new ways to take away pain,” I declared, tying a tight knot around the last bundle of greens. “Ways where the cure doesn’t hurt worse than the sickness!”

For some reason, Yama seemed amused by my announcement. “Nicely said, but not so easily done. Your training is coming along well, but there are many things you still need to learn, and some lessons that you’d better perfect under this roof before you try them on your own. It would have been a tragedy if you’d summoned the wrong ghost on the day we welcomed the Ookami.
That
one wouldn’t have been satisfied with scaring off their chieftain’s loutish son, and she wouldn’t have been so easy to send back afterward.”

“That one—? Which—?” I was thunderstruck by how glibly she spoke of ghosts.
“How did you know?”
I blurted.

“Not through magic, Himiko,” she said. “I’ve taught you to listen. Now learn to
look
as well. I was at the feast that day. I didn’t see you, but I saw the Ookami creature. He looked like a man who’d witnessed fearsome things. He guzzled rice wine, only picked at his food, and jumped at the slightest unexpected sound. We’d all felt the earth tremor that afternoon, but I couldn’t imagine why such a mild one would turn a healthy young man into a nerve-racked rabbit! When I asked what was troubling him, he denied anything was wrong. His eyes told another story. I pretended to take him at his word.

“I encouraged him to talk. I asked him about his journey, about his family, and finally about you. He changed the subject quickly, but not quickly enough. His father
overheard. ‘See what a ragged mess this boy is!’ Lord Nago said scornfully. ‘He goes off with the prettiest girl in this village and comes back alone, looking like
that
. What, Ryu, did you fight a wild boar bare-handed to win the Matsu chieftain’s daughter? No, that wasn’t your way.
You
tried to impress her by turning into a coward right before her eyes!’ ”

“Why would Lord Nago say something like that?” I asked softly.

“Maybe he’d had too much wine. Then again, maybe he simply likes bullying others, but calls it teasing so he’ll have someplace to hide if they fight back. He mocked his son for running away and leaving you behind when the earth shifted. ‘Poor little Lady Himiko, abandoned!’ he bawled. ‘Forsaken, helpless, defenseless—!’ ” Yama dropped her imitation of the mean-spirited chieftain and gave me a pointed look. “
That
was when Ryu shouted, ‘Defenseless? Abandoned?
Her?
Ha! Not when she could call for so many ready to protect her. I wish you had been there. I wish you’d seen them. I wish you’d join them!’ And he burst into a drunken laugh that lifted every hair on my head.

“His father looked ready to choke the life out of him. He ordered him to leave, and Ryu was happy to obey. I think he went off to be sick; no surprise there.” Yama looked lost in thought. “He said you could call for so many ready to protect you. So many … So many
what
, Himiko? He didn’t say. I believe he didn’t dare.” The shaman folded her hands in her lap. “That was when I knew what you had done.” She stared at me severely.

I didn’t look away. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“I should ask you the same question,” Yama replied. “Except you weren’t going to tell me at all, were you? And I got tired of waiting.”

“You know what I did, Lady Yama,” I said. “You don’t know why I did it.” And I told her the whole story of what had happened between Ryu and me, ending with our confrontation in the clan burial ground. “Ryu made it sound like I gathered a host of angry spirits around me. How could I have done that? You taught me the incantations, but you know I still can’t perform the dance. I conjured nothing more than whatever haunts Ryu’s imagination. It wasn’t the real summoning ritual, but the earth shook enough to make it seem real to him. I was lucky,” I concluded.

“Then why conceal it?”

“I’m not ashamed of what I did, if that’s what you’re asking. What good would it have done to tell my family? If I’d mentioned it while the Ookami were still in our village, there would have been trouble, and if I’d said anything after they left, there would be trouble over why I’d waited to speak,” I replied.

“Fair enough. But why hide it from
me
?”

I bowed my head. “Because I was afraid you’d end my training if you thought I’d tried summoning the dead.” I looked up at her again. “Even if that wasn’t what I did.”

Yama looked grim. “I ought to end your training here and now.”

The dreadful words hit me like a blow to the belly. This was worse than any earthquake. I forced myself to speak: “If that is what you want, Lady Yama, I’ll go.” I began to stand up, holding back tears.

“Stay where you are!” the shaman snapped. “I want no such thing! There’s a difference between what we
want
to do and what we
should
do; remember that!”

I dropped back to the ground. My head spun. I was dazed by how close I’d felt to losing something precious. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“Why did you fear telling me? Did you believe I’d dismiss you without hearing your explanation? Do you think I’m that unfair? Do you trust me so little? If so, I’m not the one to train you. Without trust between us, how can I truly teach, how can you truly learn?” She clasped my hands. “Himiko, if I can’t be your teacher, find another, but if you love your people—your people and yourself—never leave the spirits’ path.”

My flimsy self-control crumbled; I began to cry. It came over me like a summer rainstorm, gust after gust of tears. I threw my arms around the old woman’s neck, weeping with relief and sobbing that I would never even
pretend
to use a shaman’s powers until Yama declared I was ready to do so.

“Oh, my dear, don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” the shaman said fondly, wiping away my tears with her fingertips. “I won’t be the one to declare you’ve mastered all the lore of the hidden ways;
you
will.”

How will that be possible?
I thought. Yama was the one who guided me through my lessons, pointing out my mistakes, telling me when I’d done things correctly. Why would she step back from pronouncing the final words of approval? Even if the ultimate decision was mine, how could I make it? How would I know when I was good enough?

Yama believed in me, and I loved her for that. Yet in spite of how deeply I trusted and respected my teacher, this was one thing I could
not
believe.

I chose to keep my self-doubt silent. I sat back on my heels and smiled. “May the gods grant it.” It was something safe to say.

I left Yama’s house soon after, bearing her assurance that she’d clear the way for me to go off into the mountains with Aki the next morning. I was so happy at the thought of what lay ahead, I scarcely noticed the sliver of a nagging question at the back of my mind. What was it that Yama had said? “That
one wouldn’t have been satisfied with scaring off their chieftain’s loutish son, and she wouldn’t have been so easy to send back afterward
.”

That
one. Why speak of any spirit in such a veiled way? To name could be to summon, but Yama had complete command of the proper rites for banishing the unwelcome dead. Was there a ghost so terrible that even our shaman held back from speaking her name? I had my own suspicions about who that hostile spirit might be, but I wondered if I’d ever know for certain.