Heretic, Betrayers of Kamigawa

CHAPTER 19

Michiko had experienced Mochi’s visions before, so it was she who recovered most quickly from the initial disorientation.

The princess floated free, her mind and spirit detached from her physical body. Her senses were somehow sharper, as if eyes, ears, and skin were not a conduit for external information but a barrier to it. She was a drop of rain among the thunderclouds, a breath of air in a typhoon wind. She was herself, but she was also a part of something larger, something that she could see and hear and taste without her body.

Though she saw no one, Michiko could feel her friends nearby, Pearl-Ear, Sharp-Ear, and Riko. Of the three, Pearl-Ear seemed the most tranquil.

Behold the spirit realm, Mochi’s voice said.

Michiko looked out onto the swirling mass of dust and energy, recognizing it as the kakuriyo Mochi had shown her before. She wished she could communicate with Pearl-Ear and the others, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice.

This is the spirit realm, Mochi said. Separate from your world but inextricably linked. Every physical thing in the utsushiyo has a spiritual reflection in the kakuriyo. Or perhaps every spirithere has a physical reflection there. No matter how you look at it, our homes are both remarkably similar and remarkably distinct.

In your world, Mochi continued, spirits dress themselves in physical bodies and can be drawn to specific locations through prayer and ritual. Here, they are defined not by their form but by their essence. Everything that exists here overlaps something in the solid world. The beings here live in an exalted state, free from the physical maladies of disease, decay, and death. A thing from the utsushiyo will inevitably wither and fall away, but its essential nature, its spirit, lives on in the kakuriyo.

The vast, roiling void began to divide, forming two identical halves of an enormous whole. On the one side, rocks and trees and rivers took shape; on the other, spectral reflections of the landscape shimmered into view, a perfectly symmetrical world split down the center by a hazy line.

This is why the kami that make war upon your world are so alien and strange. They were never meant to manifest so completely, so quickly, under the stress and strain of rage. Our worlds are connected, but there is great distance between them. Traversing that distance is horrendously difficult, and nothing that pierces the veil between substance and spirit does so unchanged. Think of it as diving through a wall of thorns-you are still you when you emerge from the opposite side, but your outer shape is changed, even to the point of rendering you unrecognizable. You are still you, but you are bleeding, half-blind, and twisted by pain. The realms were not meant to interact this way. Indeed, they could not until Daimyo Konda found a way to breach the barrier.

The more solid half of the realm began to fade from view, even as its ghostly counterpart glowed more brightly. The edge of the kakuriyo became more distinct, circling the border of the spirit realm like half-frozen river filled with sharp shards of ice. Wisps of smoky energy trailed through the barrier, disappearing and returning like a needle and thread through heavy fabric.

The mages and adepts of Kamigawa have always been able to do wondrous things by tapping into the power here. The kitsune chant that grows crops, the healer’s balm that closes wounds, the warrior’s prayer that summons courage-all these things are possible only because of the spirit realm and the essential energy it contains. This is the source of all magic in the utsushiyo, of all magic anywhere. It is the vital force that makes life and conscious thought possible.

All along the scaly border, heat and light and smoke rose to the barrier, disappeared, and returned at some distant point along the barrier. There was a natural bleed between the two realms, an exchange of essential substance that kept the two worlds in balance.

Your father was not content to seek the spirits’ blessing before he accessed their power. He bypassed the natural order of things and seized a powerful spirit himself, with his own hands, binding it to his world and his will. In doing so he created a rent in the veil between our worlds, a rift that angry kami have been widening with each new attack. But in taking direct action in your world, we become vulnerable to it as well. Just as our power affects your world, your worship affects our power. The more we interact with the physical world, the more like its native residents we become.

I cannot speak for the great myojin, but I do know that we kami, we lesser spiritual entities, form attachments to thephysical world. These attachments grow stronger as we hear more prayers and you build us more shrines.

Take the wind, for example. Kamigawan sailors pray to the winds daily. They’ve personified her, given names to her different moods, even separated her into distinct entities for north, east, south, and west. She remains ever the wind, whole and monolithic, but her lesser aspects are far more familiar and accessible. When she is cold, bitter, and spiteful, they call her the Dolorous Kami of the Northern Gale. When she is warm and encouraging, they call her the Western Breath of Abundant Life.

I myself am a lesser aspect of the greater moon spirit. We are distinct, but I am ever a part of something larger. My existence, my power is tied to that of the whole moon in all of its phases.

A droning buzz started somewhere in the void. Michiko saw something like the point of a blade punch through the fabric of the spirit realm. The wound widened, becoming a long, glowing tear. The brilliant line of energy swelled at the center, expanding until it had formed a round disk. The circle of light spun in place. The substance of the void around it swirled in response, following its motion.

Dread recognition surged through Michiko’s spirit. This was the same vision Mochi had shown her before from the night of her birth. On the other side of that hole in the spirit realm with her father stood General Takeno, Headmaster Hisoka, and a hooded soratami.

This is the Konda’s crime, Mochi said. The theft of a living kami from the spirit realm. But it was no lesser spirit he captured. The prize he took was greater even than the most powerful myojin.

For just as there is a kami for every single thing in thephysical world, there is one kami for all things in the physical world. I would show you its origin if I could. I would show you it whole and complete if that were possible. Know that it is the essential spirit of both worlds, brought into existence to embody and enforce the boundary between utsushiyo and kakuriyo.

The swirling portal had churned the spirit realm into one giant vortex. Michiko saw again how the magic was creating motion that caused the stuff of this place to accrete, to bind to itself and grow ever larger. Already a flat disk was forming near the portal, gathering the raw material of the kakuriyo to itself.

Far, far in the distance, a sun bloomed to fiery life. Michiko shuddered. Soon, more suns would come to life and fill the horizon, but they were not suns, they were eyes, the eyes of something vast and terrible.

Before light separated from darkness, before chaos separated from order, it was. Long ago it was called O-Kagachi, the Great Old Serpent. Its existence marks the schism between flesh and spirit, as it was the first thing to divorce these inherent aspects from one another. Since that split in itself, it has been a tireless and stern guardian of the boundaries between our worlds.

Everything in your world is derived from its substance. Everything in ours is derived from its essence. It sundered the connection between our realms, and it will destroy both before it allows that gap to be bridged anew.

Four pairs of star-sized eyes were burning across the void. They came forward like a great wave, rolling toward the disk and the glowing portal.

Michiko focused her thoughts. My father captured the O-Kagachi?

Mochi’s voice laughed musically in her head. Bless you, child, but that is not possible even for a man of your father’s stature. No, he seized an aspect of the Great Old Serpent, a portion of its essence, which he then brought to your world.

Think of it this way. When you brush your hair, you barely notice if a strand comes off on the bristles. But if you were asleep in your bed and someone tore out a handful of your tresses and a section of your scalp, you would react … violently.

From the portal, Konda’s powerful voice commanded, “Come!” The stony disk began to drift toward the glowing circle, and Konda cried again, “Come!”

Your father did more than tear out the O-Kagachi’s hair. He tore out its heart, the part that gives the rest of its existence purpose. It is now mad with grief and rage, furious to reclaim what was stolen and punish those who took it. The spirits are not like you, Princess, least of all O-Kagachi. The only way you can understand the depths of its rage is for me to put it in human terms: On the night a daughter came to Daimyo Konda, Konda stole O-Kagachi’s daughter from the spirit realm. That which was taken was as precious to the great serpent as any true child could ever be.

Michiko watched the entire spirit realm freeze as Konda’s hands came through the portal and seized the stone disk. Her thoughts were a confusing jumble. Daughter?

Your birth was the key. The confluence of events infused the daimyo’s spell with sympathetic magic. The stars were right, the worlds in perfect alignment. As you emerged into this world, so did O-Kagachi’s daughter. The spirit in your father’s hands is derived from the Great Old Serpent, and occupies the same position to him as you do to Daimyo Konda.

We may think of her as The Taken One. Her power has made Konda’s nation stronger than ever before. It has also all but destroyed her, and we must see that your father’s folly does not finish the job. For if balance is not restored, the Great Old Serpent will rise in his terrible glory, destroying both realms and obliterating Kamigawa itself.

Her father’s hands dragged the disk through the portal. All motion froze as the O-Kagachi roared. Then, the vision changed. They were no longer witnessing past events in the spirit world but current ones in the physical world. Three of O-Kagachi’s terrible heads knotted and undulated across the skies of Kamigawa, bearing down on the tower at Eiganjo.

Now we must depart, Mochi said. The stakes could not be any higher, nor could I make them more plain.

Michiko did not weep as the spirit world faded from view. She was tired of weeping, tired of bearing the onerous burden of her father’s crime. She was tired of the terrible, destructive wrath Konda had brought down on his own people, her people, all the people of Kamigawa. She was tired of being the daimyo’s daughter.

General Takeno was surprised to find Isamaru running loose inside the tower. In the confusion surrounding the evacuation, the dog must have been taken from the kennels and brought inside, but he was now unaccompanied. His face lit up when he saw Takeno, and he barked happily, his tail a blur.

Takeno considered the burly Akita for a moment. The daimyo’s dog had been trained as a bodyguard to protect Michiko, but it was not a war dog like the feral brutes used by Godo’s raiders. Still, Isamaru had mastered all the basic commands and knew when to attack and when to wait for the command to do so.

Thunder boomed overhead. Takeno quickly crossed to the nearest window, Isamaru happily padding beside him.

The three-headed monster was almost close enough to strike. Its wriggling, serpentine necks folded back on each other, twisting into a complicated knot that nearly filled the sky. A single one of his heads was as large as the tower.

Takeno said a quick prayer to the Myojin of Cleansing Fire, the spirit of justice that had always fought with Towabara in the past. Then, the old soldier reached down and removed Isamaru’s collar.

The big dog shook itself then met Takeno’s dour glare with happy eyes.

“Lieutenant.” Takeno’s voice was quiet and firm.

“General!” The young-faced soldier snapped to crisp attention and saluted.

“Take this stray dog-” he pointed at Isamaru-“and release him through the north gate. He seems healthy enough. His chances are far better on the plains than here.”

“Yes, General.” The young man gave no sign that he recognized the dog, but every soldier in Eiganjo knew Isamaru. The dog let out one last booming bark, then scrambled to follow the lieutenant down to ground level.

Takeno made a mental note to credit the lieutenant’s devotion to duty. If he wondered why Takeno was sending the daimyo’s dog away or if he wondered why a dog’s chances were better outside than a soldier’s were inside, he was disciplined enough to keep his concerns to himself. Such resolve was rare these days, especially among Konda’s new recruits.

The general took one last look at the looming figure of O-Kagachi. He crossed the tower to the far side. Yosei still circled the tower, and his eagerness for the upcoming fight visibly increasing as three-headed serpent drew closer.

Takeno leaned forward and stared down at the north gate below. The haze was thick, and his eyes were old, but he could just make out the exterior walls and the great stone doorway.

He looked out over the plains north of Eiganjo. The refugees were out of sight, long gone, but he trusted Captain Okazawa to keep them moving. The farther away they were, the safer they’d be.

He glanced down at Isamaru’s collar, forgotten in his hand. If all went well, the daimyo’s dog would find a home with the survivors he met on the plains. If not, he would probably wander the fertile acres, living on what he could find until starvation, disease, or a kami attack claimed him. He might not live very long, but he would live.

Takeno extended his hand out of the window. He bid Isamaru a fond farewell and dropped the dog’s collar. It twisted as it fell, and Takeno followed its progress until it too became lost in the fog.

The old soldier turned and ascended the interior staircase that led to Konda’s private chamber, preparing himself for his final battle.

Back in Hisoka’s offices, Mochi’s vision had taken its toll. Riko was wide-eyed and silent, clearly overwhelmed by what she had seen. Pearl-Ear and Michiko stood by each other, their hands clasped, their eyes resolutely on the smiling blue kami. Sharp-Ear stood, flabbergasted, repeating, “Is it true? Is what we just saw real?”

“It was real, Sharp-Ear of the kitsune.” Mochi had stood and clasped his hands behind his back once more. As they spoke, he paced back and forth.

“Hisoka and the soratami became involved only when we saw there was no way to dissuade Konda from his goal. I thought we could minimize the impact of his crime, maybe even prevent him from committing it, but he was like a man possessed and gave us no chance for sabotage.

“Since then, we’ve been laboring to find a way to undo what Konda did. So long as he had the prize and communed with it daily, it was impossible. He was impervious to all arguments and compulsions. His body ceased to age, perhaps because it was so saturated with spiritual energy. Even I do not understand all the powers he reaps simply from possessing The Taken One. His will is firmer than ever, proof against the strongest magic. We could not force him to act once the prize had been taken, could not cajole or convince him to turn aside from his aims.

“I fear his constant proximity to the O-Kagachi’s child has driven the daimyo insane. He no longer sees any distinction between the rest of the world and himself. The human mind was not meant to contain the power Konda has. I think he has lost sight of what he was striving to attain. Now, all he cares about is keeping what he has: his life, his prize, and the rule of a great nation.”

A single pair of hands began a slow, measured, mocking round of applause from the corner of the room.

“Quite a show,” said a smooth voice, “but some of us have seen it before.”

Everyone except Mochi present turned toward the sound, their faces all showing various degrees of confusion. The little blue kami shook his head as he stared down at the desktop. His smile grew pained and he sighed softly.

“I wondered where you were, Toshi.”

Toshi emerged from the shadows, still clapping with machinelike precision.

Mochi turned and bowed. “An aspect of Night,” he said. “Very well done.”

Toshi winked. “Just getting started, actually.”

Sharp-Ear sprang forward, positioning himself between Toshi and the others. “What is he doing here?”

“Settle down, Fuzzy. I’ve listened to Mochi’s stories before. You can’t just take them at face value.”

“Stand easy, Sharp-Ear,” Michiko said. “Toshi and I have an understanding.”

“That’s your decision,” Riko said. “He still has to answer for Choryu. Whatever he did, he was our friend, and this one-” she jabbed a finger at Toshi-“sent him to his death.”

“Mercifully,” Toshi said. “I did so mercifully.”

“How dare you-”

“Please,” Pearl-Ear said. “Let us hear him out.” She crossed her arms. “Ochimusha, why do you doubt Mochi?”

The blue kami nodded. “Hear, hear.”

Toshi bowed. “Lady. I doubt this little blue pustule because he always leaves things out. If he’s so concerned about fixing things, ask him why his soratami are moving in on the criminal underground in Takenuma. Ask him why your man Choryu murdered my partner. Ask him why there’s an entire army of soratami in the city above, preparing to move out in force.”

Toshi placed his hands on his hips. “Where’s the battle, Mochi? And which side are you fighting on?”

Mochi’s smile hardened. His eyes narrowed, and his voice grew sharp. “You have set foot in Otawara?”

“Danced from one end to the other. I left your pet mind-talker bleeding on the road, too. She’ll have a headache for a few days. If she survives. The streets are so dangerous these days, even in the clouds.”

Mochi cocked his head. “If you left Chiyo alive,” he said, “you should be worried about your own long-term survival.”

“Mochi,” Pearl-Ear said, “I do believe what you just showed us is the truth. It felt far too real to be a trick or illusion. But is what Toshi says true? Do the soratami have an army? If so, what is its purpose? They have never fought in large numbers before.”

“They have never done anything in large numbers before,” Mochi said. “More than that, I cannot say.”

“But you must,” Michiko said. “You must tell us everything. How can we help each other if-”

“You flatter yourself, my dear. I am trying to help you, yes, but the only thing you can do for me is stop interfering. If O-Kagachi manifests, even partially, it will change everything. The fabric of both worlds and the barriers between them will be altered.

“So why didn’t you stop Konda when you had the chance?” Toshi said. “And don’t give me that ‘we tried and failed’ nonsense. You’re craftier than me, and I can think of a half-dozen ways to stop someone from casting a spell.”

Mochi grimaced. “The daimyo’s will is strong,” he said. “When the soratami saw that he could not be stopped, they decided not to prevent the crime but to manage it. If the Great Old Serpent comes, we will be the ones who endure, who rebuild. O-Kagachi will destroy everything until he recovers The Taken One, but his wrath will fall on Eiganjo first. If the destruction of Konda and his kingdom is all it takes to retrieve the prize, there may be hope for the rest of us. Even so, in the absence of a strong central authority, someone will need to prevent Kamigawa’s tribes from slipping into barbarism. Who should it be, if not the soratami? The goblins? The rats?”

Michiko’s face went pale. “You intend to sacrifice my nation, my people,” she said. “You will offer us up to slake the serpent’s wrath then sweep in to pick up the pieces.”

Sadness crossed Mochi’s face. “You wound me, Princess. I swear to you by all that is holy, it is not my aim to conquer Kamigawa. Your father brought this on himself and upon his nation. You are correct in that I would gladly trade one kingdom to preserve the entire world, but you must believe that it was never my intent, nor is it something I do gladly.”

“All the same, you’ll do it,” Toshi said. “The fact that it will benefits your followers just as it cripples everyone else for twenty years is an added bonus.”

“Otawara is as besieged by kami as any place you can name,” Mochi said. “For our part in Konda’s crime, we are also punished.”

“Not enough,” Toshi said. “Just wait a few days.”

Mochi threw up his hands. “This is fruitless,” he said. “You may believe me or not, but it does not change our situation or your options. What are you going to do? O-Kagachi is fast approaching the daimyo’s tower. The soratami armada is ready to defend their home if it comes to that, then they are prepared to move across Kamigawa, saving who they can while they prevent the survivors from preying on each other. We have been preparing for this day since Michiko-hime was born. We cannot turn back now.

“Your support is welcome but unnecessary. We have the wisdom of Minamo and the power of Otawara, and this is what gives us the right to rule. If you cannot see that this is the only future any of us have, return to your forest, your swamp, and your tower. If you survive, I will seek you out in the new world, if only to prove that your fears were unfounded.”

Horns suddenly blew outside, a strong, warning note that penetrated even to the depths of Hisoka’s chamber. Stirred by the sound, the headmaster awoke and fumbled groggily for the arms of his chair.

“What’s that sound?” he muttered. “Is there an alarm?”

Mochi strolled over and placed his hand on Hisoka’s head. “Relax, my friend. That is the sound of a new age beginning. There will be a time of wild and violent action, but it will be followed by a long and lasting peace.”

Toshi rubbed the back of his hand, gazing up at the ceiling. The mark on his wrist burned. He had just been outside, had just seen the crescent moon overhead, but the mark on his hand burned.

“Actually,” he muttered, “I think you’re only half-right.” Toshi drew his jitte and twirled it around his thumb. “It’s going to be a long and lasting violent action,” he said, “followed by nothing.”

Mochi puffed air through his cheeks. “What are you talking about, Toshi?”

“The hyozan have come in force,” Toshi said. “Hidetsugu has brought them early, damn him to hell.”