Guardian, Saviors of Kamigawa

CHAPTER 19

Toshi saw the moths bearing down on them and cursed the double burden of his duty and his stubborn insistence on avoiding that duty. It would be so easy to run now if Night’s Reach hadn’t just gone out of her way to save his life. Would it make such a difference if he were to escape into the nearest shadow and let Konda have his prize? The daimyo could contend with O-Kagachi; let those two determine how important it was that the Taken One was showing signs of life and self-interest. All Toshi would have to do would be to keep his head down for a year or so and these truly important entities could all kill each other off without his help.

Toshi scrambled to his feet and rushed to the stone disk. Abandoning the disk was not an option he could pursue … at least not yet. Better to load it up on the moth and take to the sky. He had outrun Konda and his ghost-moths before, and with Night’s help he was sure he could do it again. In fact, he was eager to do it again, just to imagine the look on Konda’s face.

The Taken One still floated just above his head, so Toshi placed his hands on the lowest edge and pushed. Whatever was keeping the disk afloat also allowed Toshi to move it easily without turning it insubstantial. In fact, it was faster and easier to move it this way, as he could really dig his heels into the turf and use his body weight to hurry things along.

He reached the moth in short order and guided the disk into the harness. This would be a narrow escape, but it would still be an escape.

father

Toshi paused as the Taken One’s voice echoed in his head. When the lingering sound faded, so did the shining white tower. Toshi continued to squint, dazzle-blinded. The half of his body closest to the Taken One’s beacon felt seared and tender.

His eyesight returned to normal just as he completed tightening the last strap. He started to swing his leg up over the moth’s back, but something heavy seemed to be pressing in on all sides. He glanced up to check on Konda’s approach and noticed the ominous purple sky glowering from the east. Had it grown much darker all of a sudden? Or was the storm casting a shadow over all of Jukai?

Twelve flaming suns suddenly ignited around the spot where the tower of light pierced the sky. Toshi stood frozen and agape as O-Kagachi materialized behind the six sets of sun-eyes, appearing whole and solid in one fell swoop. Six square, horned heads roared from massive, swaying necks. Its coils formed an impossibly large and complicated tangle of muscle wreathed in jagged scales, and their bulk filled fully half the sky from here to the horizon.

Toshi still stood motionless, awestruck by the titanic beast hovering so close. O-Kagachi opened all six of his mouths and roared. Back to the east, Konda’s moths had begun their descent, silent but no less threatening than the old serpent.

Toshi’s eyes darted back and forth across the sky. Konda himself was streaking toward them and he was surrounded by an unsettling glow. O-Kagachi opened one set of jaws wide and likewise drove down at Toshi and the stone disk. There were only seconds in which to decide. One way or the other, the chase for the Taken One was going to end here.

Or, Toshi thought suddenly, I can do things my way. He took hold of the moth’s tether and made himself insubstantial. The leather strap separated from the tree and fell to the forest floor. Then Toshi became solid, unbuckled the harness, and slipped it off the moth so that the leather straps were still fastened to the stone disk. He slapped one hand onto the surface of the Taken One and pulled, guiding the prize over to the closest tree.

“You’re free,” Toshi told the moth. “You lucky bastard.” He slapped the moth lightly on the rump. It burbled one last time and rose into the air.

Toshi locked all ten fingers around the Taken One’s harness and swung himself like a child on a rope swing. His weight pulled the Taken One down so that when he slipped into the shadow at the base of the tree, the stone disk was pulled along with him. The last things he saw were Konda’s furious face and a wide-open mouth that could have swallowed a mountain.

Then he and his cargo/passenger floated safe and alone through an endless black ocean of silent darkness.

Konda’s roar of frustration was almost as loud as O-Kagachi’s as they both watched their prize follow Toshi into the shadows and vanish. Fortunately for the daimyo, his moth-riders were far more agile than O-Kagachi’s crashing coils, and they veered off as soon as it became clear that their target was gone. The old serpent was not as maneuverable and he plowed into the forest.

The ground exploded in a white-hot blast of destructive energy. The back of the moth formation was blown across the sky like leaves in a typhoon while the front was merely buffeted. Konda’s escorts tilted him perpendicular to the ground before regaining control.

The daimyo’s eyes had lost sight of their quarry and they darted maniacally across his face. He commanded his moths to turn about so he could confront O-Kagachi-he would at least avenge the attack on Eiganjo. In the time it took to return to formation and complete the about-face, the great serpent had already begun to fade away. As the terrible serpent went, the bright light of early afternoon reclaimed the sky.

Konda swore viciously. How many times would this thief vanish from under the daimyo’s nose? How often did he have to track down and corner the prize before he could reclaim it once and for all? He had traveled to the farthest reaches of his kingdom for nothing, and now he must go on for what would almost certainly be more of the same. He needed to find a way to pin this man down, to force him into a situation where he could not run. But how?

The daimyo’s eyes suddenly snapped to the northwest and stayed there. Konda’s rage cooled as he felt the presence of his prize. He was and would remain connected to it, no matter where the ochimusha took it.

Perhaps this was how he could finally catch Toshi. So far, it was the visible approach of his army that gave the thief time to prepare his escapes. If Konda led a much smaller, less obvious party that relied on stealth and Konda’s unerring sense of direction, he could easily surprise the ochimusha and cut him down. His full army would ride openly and in triumph once he took back what was his.

Pleased with his new plan, Konda called out to his infantry with the intent of summoning them to follow at a distance. In the crazed rush to seize the Taken One, he had forgotten that they were already engaged. A cruel smile crossed Konda’s lips.

Here was the place for a demonstration of his full might, in the forests of Jukai. The soratami had come expecting a slaughter, and Konda would see that they got it. Responding instantly to their lord’s thoughts, the moth-riders banked and headed back to the site of the armada’s latest battleground.

The war-torn clearing had grown far larger as the soratami battered and burned their way east. Moonfolk samurai still poured from their cloud chariots, sometimes leaping off the vessels high above the forest floor and floating safely down with their feet wreathed in fluffy white fog. A significant force of new orochi had joined the faltering defenders and slithered out to face the invaders head on. Brutal close combat raged across untold acres of forest with devastating effects on both sides.

The orochi had mustered themselves into ranks instead of individually concealing themselves and waiting to ambush. They seemed to be organized around a single individual who sent them against the invaders in carefully timed waves. The forward edge of his attack was a line of brightly colored orochi who only attacked with their long, sharp fangs. They snapped and bit the leading soratami, not seeking fatal wounds but seizing whatever body part they could latch onto. Once they had struck, they forced their flexible limbs and bodies deeper into the soratami formation and bit again. In this manner they envenomed dozens of soratami without giving the moonfolk time to strike back. Their toxin seemed especially virulent, blackening the flesh and stiffening the lungs of every soratami it touched. Dozens of samurai faltered and fell, disrupting their graceful formation and throwing their charge into confusion. This left the invaders vulnerable to the next wave of orochi, who were among the biggest and best-equipped snakes the daimyo had ever seen. Most had metal weapons harvested from the soratami themselves in all four hands, and while they were not expert they were able to inflict serious damage on the moonfolk. The rest of this second wave fought with bare hands, but those hands were so numerous and powerful that the soratami found themselves stymied and unable to press forward.

Konda approved of this change in tactics. It was better to keep them off balance and use their numbers against them. It was what he would have done. Whoever the orochi leader was knew his business. Konda looked forward to meeting him when the fighting was done.

A larger cloud chariot came down from the canopy, shrouded in a decidedly blue-tinged mist. Konda wondered what made this vessel different, and as he ordered his escorts in for a closer look, the reason became clear.

A single soratami female levitated from the center of the blue chariot in shimmering blue robes and a ceremonial headdress. She stretched her pale, thin arms over her head, pressed her palms together, and then jerked them apart. A small blue ring of smoke formed between her hands and began to spin.

Quickly, Konda had his moth-riders soar up above the canopy. He maintained his view of the blue cloud chariot long enough to see the soratami wizard hurl the ring of smoke down to the forest floor. It fell like a stone.

The ring burst the moment it touched the loamy soil. The blue smoke vanished, and a bitter wind rose, churning the leaves and other debris into a huge funnel cloud. The whirlwind gathered speed and strength, thickening as it rolled east. The orochi in its path held their ranks until the leader hissed, and then they broke and scattered, melting into the brush.

The blue cyclone tore trees from the ground as it approached, and then gouged the ground itself as it passed. The terrible funnel-cloud plowed on, scattering the forest defenders and flattening a wide alley in the tangle of ancient cedars.

Overhead, Konda paused to respect the tacticians on the soratami side of the battle. This was both how they were moving so quickly through the thick woods and driving the orochi back. Their powerful wind magic served both purposes at once, with the added benefit of breaking up the orochi into smaller groups that were far easier to defeat. In fact, as soon as they were out of sight and earshot of their field general, the orochi fell back to their more comfortable but far less effective strategy of attacking the soratami individually.

Konda drew his sword. Fortunately for the orochi, he was able to inspire his army no matter where they fought, or against whom. By the stirring in his heart and the sound of hollow-voiced war cries coming closer, Konda knew he was at last in position to chastise the arrogant soratami.

The first of Konda’s spectral retainers broke through the brush into the scorched battlefield. They did not need to assess the situation or formulate a strategy, for Konda had already done so. Without hesitation, the ghost army of Eiganjo tore into the soratami’s flank, creating a gruesome cloud of pale limbs and thin, sticky blood.

Konda guided his escorts down, both to give him a better view and to allow the moth-riders to support the infantry. Now the soratami would face an army that was in every way its superior: Konda’s troops were better trained, better armed, and more aggressive than the moonfolk. They also had the element of surprise and, since their resurrection, were as strong and fast as the soratami were … perhaps faster and stronger.

The sudden arrival of a new enemy shattered the soratami’s precise formation and made their battle plan useless. They had come to fight wild snakes in the woods, not unkillable crack troops with decades of experience in large-scale engagements. The soratami warriors lived up to their reputation, fighting bravely and fiercely against the new arrivals, but the outcome of the battle was never in doubt. The ghost army’s warped and twisted retainers cut them down like stalks of wheat.

Konda himself took his moth-riders back across the burned-out clearing and circled over the blue cloud chariot. He could see the small crew of moonfolk and the blue-robed wizard inside. They were scrambling to steer their vessel away from the circling array of ghostly moths.

Konda pointed his sword. “You too, must be punished,” he said.

Clouds of glittering yellow force formed around the moths’ antennae, similar to the force that held Konda suspended between his escorts. The force continued to collect and gather until each glowing cloud touched its neighbor. Then, a dozen streams lanced from the moths down to the cloud chariot, rivers of sparkling gold that swam with naked, glaring eyeballs. The orbs rolled and jostled against each other at first, but as they bore down on the blue chariot they locked onto the moonfolk inside.

The eye-beams struck, and the chariot exploded. Glittering gold snow fluttered down to the killing floor, and a mournful wail rose from the beleaguered soratami.

Higher up among the clouds themselves, Konda saw many more of the soratami chariots. They would be dealt with in similar fashion, harshly, and soon. Below him on the ground, his army had completely surrounded the soratami samurai and were in the process of grinding them to bits. There was no sign of any orochi whatsoever, but Konda considered this to be tactical prudence instead of cowardice: if the ghost army won the day here, there was still plenty of Jukai left to defend.

Konda had his escorts and one other moth veer off to the west. The others he sent up to dismantle the soratami armada and demonstrate once and for all who ruled Kamigawa.

On the ground, a small force of about twenty split off from the fighting and raced after Konda’s trio of moth-riders. While the bulk of his ghost army would continue to drive the soratami out of Jukai, these retainers would be his honor guard, the smaller, less obvious force that he would take to surprise the thief Toshi.

The daimyo soared on, eager enough to open a wide lead between the aerial elements of his honor guard and the ground forces. He refused to wait one second longer than he had to. Konda swore the next time he laid eyes on the Taken One it would not leave his sight until he reclaimed it, preferably over the dead body of that cursed lowlife.

The voice of Night’s Reach boomed through Toshi’s head scant seconds after he entered the realm of shadow.

TOSHI, she thundered, YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME.

“I had no other choice, O Night. I had to weigh your wishes against each other. You did not want the Taken One retaken, yet you also didn’t want it in your domain. I could not accomplish both, so I picked this.”

The myojin’s voice grew softer, but she was no less sharp. You have chosen unwisely, my soon-to-be ex-acolyte. Rectify this situation immediately. Begone, and never return.

The void around them boiled and churned. Toshi felt a rush of motion and a painful jolt before he tumbled painfully to the cold, hard ground. Behind him, he heard the Taken One make a similar rough landing.

Toshi quickly got to his feet. They were still in the forest, surrounded by cedars and ferns, but the landscape was different from eastern Jukai. This was more like the western edge of the forest, closer to the civilized regions of Eiganjo and the kitsune nation.

Before Toshi could fully get his bearings, Night’s Reach sprang up before him on a curtain of black.

“You’ll never see it here again,” Toshi said quickly. “On my honor, I swear it was unavoidable.”

Be silent. I have seen what your honor entails. My blessings count for nothing, my patronage counts for nothing unless it suits you.

“You wound me, O Night. I tried to ask for your guidance and you did not reply.”

And that justifies doing precisely what I instructed you not to do? Have I not made you powerful? Have I not intervened and saved you when you were at the mercy of your enemies? And this is how you repay me.

Toshi shrugged. “I was desperate. Mistakes were made. Forgive me, O Night, but I don’t see the harm.”

And that is why you have failed me so completely, Toshi. The myojin’s expression was static and unchanged, but rage and frustration both seeped from its porcelain surface. My interests hinge on not drawing O-Kagachi’s attention. Bringing that to my domain is like lighting a candle that he will always see. In seconds, days, or years, he will come. It might take centuries, but he will remember that I was the one who concealed his missing progeny. If he comes here, if he even fixes his gaze upon this place, I will suffer. And it will take far longer than your life span for me to recover.

Toshi tried to think of a graceful way to excuse his actions or deflect Night’s anger, but before he spoke another disembodied voice joined the discussion.

release me

Real panic crept into the myojin’s voice. What was that?

The ochimusha paused. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about. It’s alive,” Toshi shouted. “What do I do with it?”

What have you done? It is connected to O-Kagachi; it has tasted the old serpent’s power. If it has awakened, we are all in terrible danger.

Toshi looked into the face of the stone disk. The image of the serpent was facing outward, both its etched eyes fixed on the Myojin of Night’s Reach. Its tail waved in angry slashes.

His vision doubled and for a moment Toshi saw two stone disks and two angry serpents. Something heavy pushed against his entire body as a small white spark flashed on the surface of the Taken One.

A sharp, sleek needle of force shot out from the stone disk. It lanced directly into the myojin’s face and punctured the mask, sending a spiderweb of cracks radiating outward from the center.

Night’s Reach wailed, but the sound faded as quickly as the pieces of the shattered mask. Toshi continued to stare at the space where his myojin had been until a flicker of motion drew his eye back to the Taken One.

On the surface of the stone disk, the fetal serpent drew its long, forked tongue back into its mouth. It disappeared into the etched mouth with a curious popping sound, and then the serpent resumed her profile position.

release me now

“I’m working on it,” Toshi said. He paused, scanning the area for familiar signs. There was only one course left to him now, only one group he could turn to. And if they didn’t kill him on sight, they might actually listen to him and try to help.