Outlaw: Champions of Kamigawa

CHAPTER 26

Toshi strode toward the priests on the hill with his jitte out and ready. He trusted the razor birds to keep the foxes clear of his cave until he was ready to let them in which might never happen. He would worry about that after he survived the next few moments.

A thin green shoot rose out of the ground a short distance from the chanting priests. As the first grew and thickened, a second rose from the soil. A third formed, and a fourth. More of the leafy tendrils climbed toward the sky and braided themselves together.

When the vertical shoots were tall and thick enough to be counted as small trees, the lateral growth began. Branches jetted out from the central mass, perpendicular to the ground. In turn, more growth flowed from these horizontal limbs, and the entire mass of living wood grew heavier, stronger, and harder as the ground compressed beneath its burgeoning weight.

A woman's face formed near the top of the construct, one not unlike the Myojin of Night's Reach. It was a similar mask of a woman's face, but this one seemed to be made of smooth, polished wood. Where the black kami was surrounded by a dark shroud and pale hands, the orochi's kami was draped in leaves and moss. Her "hair" was in fact another stand of miniature trees, and her arms curved around her body as they grew and thickened. The more the kannushi priests chanted, the more wood growth occurred.

You have done much damage here, the wood spirit droned. Toomuch. Surrender the child. The balance must be restored.

Toshi stopped a mere ten yards from the kami. "Why did you tie Kobo to those trees?"

The spirit's growth continued. Her face tilted down as if noticing Toshi for the first time.

"I asked you a question. None of this would be happening if you'd left my partner alone."

You're referring to the apostate. The one who turned his back on his own tribe.

"I'm referring to my oath-bound brother, yes. Kobo."

My children hung him out for the monks to see. He was dressed as they were. We left him to his own kind. Later, he died in the rain.

Toshi stroked his chin with the tip of his jitte. "Not good enough. Not by a long shot." He pointed the jitte at the wooden mask. "I'm going to have to punish you now."

Thick, ripe vines erupted out of the ground and coiled around Toshi's wrists. He strained against them, but they held fast. Two more leafy ropes crawled from the soil and wrapped around his ankles.

Punish me? Little man, you have a very high opinion of yourself.

"I do, at that. But you'll find me worthy of it."

The kannushi on the hill continued to chant. Behind him, Toshi could hear the kitsune attempting to storm through the cave entrance, but the birds repulsed them time and again.

What will you do, then, little conjurer? Poison me? Burn me? I am the life force of the forest itself. Fell every tree, and I emerge from the roots unscathed. Plow up the roots, and I shall return when the First seed blooms. Raze all the Jukai down to the bare rock, and I shall survive in the grass, in the moss, in farmer's fields and the city's gardens. I am the essence of life itself, of unbridled growth and unrestricted vigor. What weapon can you bring to bear that would harm me?

The vines tightened on Toshi's wrists and ankles. He felt the rough texture biting into his flesh. He looked up into the wood kami's expressionless face.

The ochimusha smiled. He closed his eyes and said, "Myojin of Night's Reach. I seek your blessing now."

Michiko stood frozen as Toshi's sword sang toward her throat. She was off her guard, exhausted, and overwhelmed by the things she had seen and experienced. It was all she could do to watch as her death homed in.

But Toshi brought the blade up short, stopping it less than Finger's width from her neck. Mochi cried out angrily. The ochimusha was oblivious, focused exclusively on the tip of his weapon.

Michiko stood perfectly still, staring down the long blade at Toshi's intent face. They maintained this stance for agonizingly long, until Michiko could no longer hold her breath. She exhaled, and this slight motion sent a cascade of tears falling from the paths they had forged down her face.

The tears struck the end of Toshi's sword, clear saltwater sparkling and steaming on the blade.

Michiko took a half-step back so that she was touching the cave wall, and Toshi followed her, keeping the blade steady and almost touching her throat. More droplets fell from her face to the edge of his weapon.

"The tears of a princess," Toshi said. "That ought to give me a boost."

He pulled the sword back and pointed the tip up. Michiko's tears ran down the length, but before they could spill over onto the hilt, Toshi spun and flicked his weapon toward the pile of hay kanji. The symbols hissed and crackled where the tears touched them, and the pile began to rustle, eager to achieve full animation and take flight.

"And that will pep them up, once I turn them loose." The sword had begun to glow softly, a gentle white sheen. Toshi ran the blade along the top of his forearm, then sheathed it, subduing the light.

Mochi was no longer smiling. "You are very clever, Toshi Umezawa."

"Yes, I am." He turned his back on the moon kami and faced the towering dark figure at the rear of the cave.

"I have just about everything I need," he said to her. "And what I don't have, I can steal. But there is one thing that want. One gift you can grant that I have never been able to capture."

"What about me? "Mochi interjected. "I can grant blessings, too."

Toshi paused, casting a glance over his shoulder. "One at a time." He turned back to the black kami and sighed. 'With a great show of resignation, Toshi lowered himself to one knee.

"Lady," he said. "I have led a tumultuous life. Everywhere I go, I am braced by the chattering of nezumi, the shrieks of akki, and the hissing of snakes. They threaten; they demand; they ask endless questions. What I want now, and for the rest of my life upon demand, is silence. I yearn for it. And if I get it, I will hoard it and savor it more completely than any miser's treasure."

Mochi began scoffing instantly. "What good will that do? It may help you gain entry to a rich man's house, thief, but it's of no use here."

Toshi did not turn. "I am ready to accept your blessing if you are ready to bestow it. Become my patron, Lady." He waved back at Mochi. "Let's start with him."

The Myojin of Night's Reach drifted forward, bending so that her alabaster face was a mere foot from Toshi's. Her flowing shroud Filled the cave from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling.

Done. The mournful, hollow voice rang in Toshi's ears, though the kami's pale, frozen lips did not move.

The white mask rose and withdrew. The kami's black robesretracted back into the center of her being; the banner behind her folded and sank like a foundered ship. All the while, the wan face watched Toshi impassively. At last, it too disappeared into the shadows that spawned it.

Toshi turned. Michiko was still staring at him, shock-still against the wall of the cave. He winked.

"That's not what I had in mind at all," Mochi said. "But you may yet surprise me, ochimusha." He stepped closer to Michiko. "Come, Princess. Let's see if his scheme will work as well as the one I had. If not, you can always call on me."

Toshi grinned and tapped his ear. "Didn't catch any of that, actually," he said. "Michiko, say something."

"What?" She looked in helpless confusion from Mochi to Toshi. "What can I say that will make sense of this madness?"

"I heard that," Toshi said. "You may have been right, fat boy. This kami blessing stuff is a real boon."

Mochi smiled again, but his eyes were cold and challenging.

Toshi drew his jitte and gave the pile of hay figures a stir.

"Rise up, my beauties," he said. "It's time to play."

Held fast in the forest kami's grip, Toshi reopened his eyes. He felt something cold and vast piling up behind him, like a stiff wind on a winter night. Mochi had been correct about one thing at least: calling on the spirits' power directly was more intense and exhilarating than channeling it through kanji. He could see why so many people were so devout in their prayers. It felt too good-addictively so.

He actually felt the quiet building up inside him as if it were a totally new thing instead of the absence of one. It was like pressure in his ears and throat, pressure that threatened to spill out of his head from every orifice.

Toshi saw the manifest spirit of the forest before him. He imagined the orochi stronghold where he'd been held, picturing the large, ritual clearing in his mind. Like the akki, these forest dwellers were chanters, and they were probably gathered there by the score to combine their prayers, to call upon their patron spirit and focus its power.

A vine lashed out from the forest spirit's body and coiled around Toshi's neck. It choked him only slightly as it forced his face up.

Now you die, the forest kami said. And all those that stand with you. The balance must be restored.

"Milady," Toshi croaked. "Grant me your blessing. I call for silence."

Then the power did explode from him, a black stream of liquid light that gushed from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Blind, deaf, and dumb at the epicenter of this storm, Toshi nonetheless saw the countless thousands of pale white hands grasping in the black river that rushed from his face to the great forest kami's.

Then Toshi's mind seized up and the world disappeared from his senses. He lost all sensation of time and place, not drifting in a void but part of that void, indistinguishable from it. His body was a portal, a lens through which the great patron spirit of the Takenuma Swamp now focused its power.

Unsure if he were alive or dead, unconcerned in either case, Toshi laughed. It was a huge, rolling blast of joy, but it came with no sound. Not even Toshi heard his own throaty roar as the geyser of black force slammed into the Myojin of Life's Web, obscuring her under a tide of darkness.

Far to the north, in the ritual clearing of the orochi-bito, the frenzied rite continued. The priests and snakes had been chanting for days without interruption, and the figure of their patron kami had grown almost as large as the clearing itself. Her smooth wooden face had dried and fallen like an autumn leaf, signifying her mind had traveled elsewhere.

This did nothing to diminish the supplicant's fervor, for they knew where she had gone. Soon, the child of blasphemy would be excised and the proper order of things could be restored.

Here, she was supreme. From here, she could go anywhere in the Jukai, perhaps anywhere in the world. She was Nature, unrestrained and rampant. She was Life itself, vast and complex. Her ultimate designs were inscrutable, and her full power was irresistible. There was no denying her grandeur, no escaping her influence. All hail the Myojin of Life's Web.

A strange new sound rose over the ruckus. The revelers' noise dimmed for a moment but then rose again, louder than before, determined to drown out the competing voice. It was a male voice, a human voice. It was laughing.

A dark shadow formed on the kami's body at the point where her face had been. The shadow became a cloud, and the cloud spread out across the living wooden mass, groping and testing the air like a spider in the dark. The kami's body shuddered as if struck and then groaned as it tried to contain an awesome force that swelled it like an overfull wineskin.

A sheet of black light streamed out from the center of the kami, covering the entire clearing and everything in it. As the veneer of shadow touched the kannushi and the orochi-bito gathered there, their voices stilled. Ponderous, palpable silence descended on the clearing as every shout, hiss, and prayer died in the throats that uttered them.

Deprived of its spiritual sustenance, the kami's form began to dry and crack. The thinnest branches on its outer layers split and fell away; the broad trunks that looped and curved around the central mass now sloughed bark, littering the ground with brittle wooden flakes. The wood under that bark was not live, fragrant cedar, but cold, gray deadwood. More of the kami's body collapsed in on itself, and the central tree began to sway.

The black sheet vanished from the revelers, but they were still struck dumb. Some fled, while others simply watched, but none of them could stop the horror as their patron spirit, their god, was diminished before their very eyes.

The vines around Toshi's body went slack. He gulped air and wrenched his hands and feet free. The tendrils creaked as they tried to hold on, but their force was spent and they would grow no more.

Toshi stepped clear of the disintegrating wood and locked eyes with the kami's wooden mask. For once, he offered no barb, jibe, or taunt. He simply watched as the great forest spirit withered, dying as quickly as it had grown.

It was as if the seasons were passing in a matter of moments. The summertime vitality of a healthy tree faded into the muted colors and dormancy of autumn, then declined into the dry and apparent lifelessness of winter. Leaves fell, shriveled, and vanished on the wind. The branches sagged and cracked, and when they broke they shattered into splinters and dust.

Behind the dying form of the kami, her monks continued to chant with their hands locked. No sound passed their lips, but they refused to stop.

Their orochi associates were either smarter or more superstitious. The snakes screamed when they saw what Toshi had done. Alone or in small groups, the orochi-bito turned and ran, fleeing the horror outside the cave.

Toshi waited until the kami's body looked more like an ancient, fragile deadfall than a hearty forest grove. Then, he turned back to the mouth of the cave, put his fingers to his lips, and blew a shrill whistle.

The razor birds responded instantly. They rushed from the cave and swarmed around the collapsing pile of dry wood, accelerating its demise by chopping it into tiny pieces. The cloud of savage creatures buzzed and completely enveloped the kami's remains. They continued to swoop and strike until there was nothing left but a wide pile of what appeared to be mulch mixed with ashes.

Toshi whistled again. He pointed over the hill where the kannushi priests still stood.

"Snakes and monks," Toshi called. "Chase them home and kill any who stop to rest."

The flock flew faster and faster in a circle over the fallen kami. Then, pairs and trios began to peel off, surging north through the forest. Some descended on the hilltop, and as they raised bleeding slashes on the monks' exposed arms, the staid priests at last abandoning their ritual and running for cover among the trees. The razor birds followed, whirring and clattering as they flew.

Toshi looked at his jitte as the power of the kami faded from him. He hadn't even needed to carve a kanji. Smiling, he twirled his weapon and sheathed it on his hip.

He turned in time to see the backs of Lady Pearl-Ear, the wizard girl, and the smallest kitsune male hurrying into the cave. His smile faded and he cocked his head.

"Hello?" he called. "I just saved us all? Anyone care to thank me?"

Tough, unyielding hands seized him and pinned his arms behind him. Toshi smelled blood and fresh meat, felt coarse, muddy fur against his skin. Someone kicked his feet out from under him.

"Thank you," one of the kitsune warriors said. Two of the foxfolk held him down while the third relieved him of his weapons.

Toshi struggled, but they held him fast. He craned his neck to view the entrance to the cave, but no one was emerging yet. The foxes holding him growled, and Toshi bared his teeth, smiling savagely.

"Here," he said, "is where things get interesting."