Guardian, Saviors of Kamigawa

CHAPTER 13

Toshi slipped into the wilds of East Jukai unnoticed. He was intent on staying unseen and undisturbed until he had time to recover after his ordeal in Minamo and his flight from Konda. The journey from the waterfall to the woods took all night and most of the morning, but in the breaking dawn he was able to find a hidden glen that could conceal him and the moth.

After landing and tethering the moth, Toshi carved a series of protective kanji on the trees leading to his bivouac. His ribs burned with every breath and he had trouble raising his stiff arms, so the symbols were rough. They would alert him if anyone came too close, however, and that was all he really needed right now.

When he felt safe, Toshi dined on borrowed soldier’s rations and sat with his back against a century cedar. Fatigue forced his eyelids down, but he struggled to stay alert. He found it difficult to take his eyes off the stone disk for fear of missing it move again. Part of him wanted to hear more of what the Taken One had to say, and the rest of him was just plain scared of it. It had finally stopped glowing and steaming after it called out to him, but that did nothing to boost his spirits. For all he knew, that just meant it was saving its strength to break free. No wonder the daimyo went mad after spending twenty years with it.

He imagined Konda sitting in his tower alone with the stone disk, endlessly staring as he waited for it to speak or move again. How long, Toshi thought, before my eyes start drifting out of my head like the daimyo’s? There were times when it seemed about to come to life, but they only came when the Taken One was in the corner of Toshi’s eye. If he looked at it directly, it remained inanimate, a lifeless chunk of shaped stone.

Gingerly, Toshi tested his ribs. His kanji magic was extremely limited when it came to healing, but he carried enough medicinal herbs and magical charms to speed his recovery. He couldn’t cure himself in a single stroke as he had with the oni dog’s venom, but he could encourage the bones to knit more quickly.

His eyelids fluttered and his head fell back. Though he hit hard enough to crack the bark, he barely noticed the blow. The major downside of his healing treatment was that it demanded long, uninterrupted hours of sleep to be effective. As his face lolled forward and consciousness faded, Toshi still fought to stay alert. He had too many enemies and too important a burden to let his guard down.

I will stay awake, Toshi thought, even as his eyelids closed and he proved himself a liar.

Toshi awoke on a barren field of gray stone. A strong, gritty wind kept his eyes nearly shut. He shielded his face and looked around, still groggy from the healing medicine.

He was no longer in Jukai. There was nothing on the plain of rock except him-no moth, no Taken One, no forest glen. Toshi turned a full circle and saw only an endless stretch of dull granite.

“Hey,” he called. The world vanished into the cold dry air, barely even echoing off the flat stony ground.

There was no reply except a stinging gust of wind-driven rock particles. He had seen a great many bizarre and terrible things, so now his mind ran wild with potential explanations for what had happened to him.

Night’s Reach might have brought him here for one of their rare face-to-face conversations, or to give him a new task now that he had possession of the Taken One. But that wasn’t likely, because Night’s honden was a gleaming platform of white against an endless black void. This place didn’t look or feel familiar.

Konda or O-Kagachi might have imprisoned him by some spell or artifice so that Toshi couldn’t keep running with the Taken One. Both of them would like nothing more than for the stone disk to stay in one place long enough for them to claim it. But Konda’s army did not usually rely on spells in battle, and O-Kagachi seemed far too vast and alien to bother with anything less than broad strokes. It was more likely to flatten the entire forest into toothpicks than to pin down one ochimusha at the center of it.

Or, the Taken One itself might have switched places with him, so that it was loose in Kamigawa and he was trapped in the stone disk. No immediate counterargument presented itself. In fact, if he put himself in the stolen kami’s place, he could easily see how it might leap at the first chance it had to escape. Assuming its earlier warm words were only a ruse, being swapped was looking like the most likely explanation. Even if it did think it owed him for taking it away from Konda, being kidnapped and held immobile for twenty years would make any entity irrational.

“Uh,” he said, “Taken One? Spirit in the stone disk? Have you brought me here?” Toshi spun around, trying to see in all directions. “Where is here, anyway?”

The wind rose. Over the rustling howl in his ears, Toshi heard a cold, callow voice say, “You are where you should be. You have died, Toshi Umezawa, and all that remains is to determine which hell claims your soul.”

Toshi blinked. “I don’t feel dead. But then again, I wouldn’t know.”

The voice seemed thrown, but it soon spoke again with the same eerie authority. “This place asks the same question of all who pass through it. Your answer will determine your status in the next world. Are you ready?”

“No,” Toshi said. “Absolutely not.”

“Nonetheless, I must ask.” The disembodied voice paused, then said, “What have you done to deserve your reward?”

Toshi kept shuffling his feet, turning in tight circles as he scanned the horizon. “How long can I think about it?”

“Do not toy with this place. Your answer, now.”

“But I don’t understand the question.”

After a pause, Toshi guessed the voice would not be drawn into further debate. He sighed and said, “Okay. I have tried to lead a virtuous life. I paid my debts on time. I honored the promises I made, each to the letter. I avoided material pleasures … well, I didn’t take more than my share of material pleasures. Actually, let’s move on from material pleasures. In general,” he said with a flourish, “I meant well.”

“And you have nothing to recant? Nothing to regret or set to rights?”

“Nope,” Toshi said. “I mean, obviously, mistakes were made. But in all, I’m quite satisfied with me.”

“You are a liar,” the voice said calmly. “You are a thief and a thug. You have committed violence for monetary gain and for its own sake. You have blasphemed the spirits and broken the laws of man. I name you villain, outlaw, oath-breaker, and murderer.”

Toshi pursed his lips. “Is that you, mom? I wondered where you ended up.”

“Silence. Look upon the victims of your crimes and laugh, if you can.”

The wind swirled and became visible, white streams of force curling and breaking like a wave. A blinding glare filled Toshi’s view of the barren world, and when it faded, a long line of people stood before him.

Boss Uramon was the first, with her sallow eyes and motionless face. “You swore to serve me,” she said. “Instead, you betrayed me. You broke your oath to my reckoners. You abandoned your comrades in arms and cowardly refused to fight. You stole the power of the Shadow Gate from me. And when you were done, you killed me and scores of my loyal servants.”

“I didn’t kill you,” Toshi said. “Kiku did.”

A sneer flickered across Uramon’s lip as the boss walked past Toshi and vanished in the wind.

Godo was next. Though Toshi had never met the sanzoku bandit king, it was no challenge to recognize him. Godo was huge and brawny, almost seven feet tall and powerfully built. He carried a massive spiked log on a chain.

“You cursed me with the yuki-onna,” Godo said. Sweat steamed from his bald head. Though he spoke angrily, his face was solemn. “You offered her as a weapon against Konda, but you knew she would turn and consume my people as well. Hundreds have died in the cold, thanks to you.”

“I underestimated her influence,” Toshi admitted. “But it’s my problem, too. I’m the one who took her power upon himself. Besides, I only gave the kanji to Hidetsugu. The o-bakemono convinced you to break it and let her out in your territory.”

Godo spat on the cold dry rocks and stormed past Toshi.

A young man in Minamo robes came forward. He had spiked, snow-white hair, and his eyes burned with hatred as he glared at Toshi.

“You killed me,” Choryu said. “You sent me to the ogre so that he would torture me. After weeks of indescribable agony, you returned and murdered me as an afterthought.”

Toshi looked unflinchingly into Choryu’s eyes. “And?”

The white-haired wizard continued to glare until Toshi waved him off with an impatient flutter of fingers. Choryu shuffled forward and disappeared.

The next figure was small, dark, and covered in coarse hair. For the first time Toshi felt his throat close and an uncomfortable feeling rise from his stomach.

Marrow-Gnawer extended his left arm, which ended in a ragged, bleeding stump. The nezumi shook his head sadly. “You used me,” he said. “You led me into danger so that you wouldn’t have to face it. You admitted me into your gang only to sacrifice me when it came time to fight the ogre. And when you had done that,” he waved his bleeding stump again, “it still wasn’t enough. You maimed me and murdered me so you wouldn’t have to watch me suffer.”

“This is a dream,” Toshi said. The cold, numbing sensation in his stomach faded as he realized the truth. “None of you actually talked like this. I’m having a nightmare brought on by stress and too much healing magic. Either that, or someone’s playing a game with me.”

The glare rose again, eclipsing the field of stone and the line of accusers. The cold, disembodied voice said, “You will be back soon, ochimusha. When that time comes, you will be made to answer for your crimes.”

“Do me a favor,” Toshi shot back. “Stand on one foot while you’re waiting.”

Then he fell into a blinding storm of white light where the only sound was the rising wind in his ears.

Toshi awoke with a start. Cringing from the pain in his chest, he forced himself to relax and settle back against the tree. His ribs felt better, but they were still far from healed.

Three orochi snakefolk were kneeling around him in a semicircle. Beyond them, more snakes explored his hidden campsite, their long tongues flicking in and out. It was hard to get an exact count from where he sat, but Toshi calculated there were at least eight.

Toshi held very still. His previous experience with the orochi had taught him that they were much faster than he was … physically, anyway. If he went for his jitte there were a dozen ways they could stop him before it ever cleared the sheath.

Up close, he could see his reflection in the orochi’s gleaming red eyes. Unlike Hidetsugu’s, which glowed like hot coals, the snakes’ eyes were a dusty crimson, like drops of blood that hadn’t fully congealed. They shined like glossy, polished stones.

“Who are you?” The snake closest to him leaned forward, tasting the air in front of Toshi’s face. His voice was soft and sinister. “Why are you here?” He pointed back at the stone disk with his long, spearlike arm. “And what is that?”

“That,” Toshi said, “is the curse of Eiganjo. A great and terrible spirit beast seeks it and will destroy anything that gets in its way. I was sent by the highest authority to take it to the edge of the world and throw it off.” He sat forward, and the orochi tensed. “Who’s in charge here?”

The orochi who had spoken said, “I am.”

“No, not here,” Toshi gestured around the glen. “I mean in this region of Jukai.”

“This is Kashi-tribe orochi country,” the leader said. “Sosuke is our chief.”

“I have a message for him. All I want is to fly over his land with my terrible burden. I’m heading east into the unknown lands. All I require is safe passage. I make no demands,” he added carefully, “but I must give you this warning: to delay me would mean disaster for us all.”

The leader looked at the other two orochi flanking Toshi. The one to his left hissed, “What do you think?”

The leader glanced at Toshi. “I think he’s not a soratami,” he said. “But he could be one of their agents.”

Toshi’s temper flared, and for once he spoke with the passion and surety of truth. “I am not a soratami agent. They and their patron kami are my sworn enemies.”

“If you say so. But you’re coming with us to Sosuke. I would just kill you here and chop that thing up for food.” He gestured over his shoulder at the battle moth. “But you’re probably more valuable than you seem. I’ll let the chief decide.”

“Very wise,” Toshi said. He fought the urge to fade away. He was recovered enough to do it, but he saw no advantage. “I only ask that you leave my steed and my burden alone. Once Sosuke hears me out, I’m sure he’ll want it out of his forest as quickly as I can carry it.”

“We owe you nothing, human.”

“No, you don’t. But if that goes missing in your territory,” he pointed to the Taken One, “it becomes your problem. I’d make sure Sosuke understands the risks before you let that happen.”

The orochi narrowed his shiny red eyes at Toshi. He craned his long neck back over his own shoulder and said, “You three. Stay here. Keep the big moth tied to that tree and don’t let anyone near the disk.” He turned back to Toshi. “If you’re lying,” he said, “we’ll break that stone over your moth’s back and roast you both over a hot fire.”

“Fair enough,” Toshi said. “Quickly now, to Sosuke. The longer we delay, the more danger your little patch of woods faces.”

The orochi lifted Toshi to his feet with their long, powerful limbs and marched him into the denser woods.