The Dragon King's Palace

31

Reiko hurried through the castle grounds, carrying the sword and supporting Midori, who clutched the squalling baby as she toiled beside Reiko. Behind them, Lady Yanagisawa towed Keisho-in along. Lights moved in the gardens, flashed on ruins, and streaked across Reiko’s vision. The night reverberated with a tumult of arrows whizzing, men crashing through woods, and spurts of gunfire. The women scrambled out from the castle buildings. Ahead, past a crumbled wall, Reiko saw the lake glittering through a stand of trees, and the dark shape of the dock. But as she hastened her friends toward the boats, footsteps thundered from their right.

“Hey, you! Stop!” Ota’s voice ordered.

Aghast, Reiko saw Ota and another samurai speeding at her. Midori screamed. Reiko heard Lady Yanagisawa cry, “No!” She turned to see Keisho-in limping back toward the castle, and Lady Yanagisawa chasing her. Both women vanished into the grounds. Horrified to see her escape thwarted and panic disperse her friends, Reiko ran, tugging Midori, after the other two women. They wove around trees whose branches snagged them, and they tripped on weed-covered rubble. Reiko heard cries from Lady Yanagisawa and Keisho-in, but she couldn’t see them in the darkness. She also heard Ota and his partner trampling debris and panting in close pursuit.

“Stay here and hide,” she whispered to Midori. She knew she was the one Ota most wanted to catch, and if they separated, maybe he would spare Midori.

“No, don’t leave me!” Midori cried.

But Reiko shook her friend loose and sped onward. The men followed her, as she’d hoped. She squeezed through shrubbery, darted around buildings. With her small size and quick agility, she gained distance from her pursuers. She turned a corner-and crashed smack into someone. Alarmed shrieks burst from them both. Then she recognized Lady Yanagisawa.

“Reiko-san, I’m so glad I found you!” Lady Yanagisawa exclaimed. “But I’ve lost Lady Keisho-in.”

As Reiko felt her heart sink at the thought of the shogun’s mother wandering alone, she heard the men coming. She and Lady Yanagisawa raced hand in hand through the night. Out of the castle the men chased them, into the forest. Fatigue dragged at Reiko’s legs. She grew breathless from exertion. Lady Yanagisawa moaned, clutching a cramp in her side. They staggered out from the forest. Before them, the high, ruined tower of the keep rose from its surrounding trees. The jagged segment of wall on the top story pointed at the moon.

“I can’t run anymore.” Dropping Reiko’s hand, Lady Yanagisawa wheezed to a standstill.

“Yes, you can,” Reiko urged. She heard crunching leaves and snapping branches: Their pursuers were coming. “Hurry!”

A mewl of terror issued from Lady Yanagisawa. She faltered up the steps to the keep.

“No!” Reiko cried. “We mustn’t let them trap us inside!”

Such panic gripped Lady Yanagisawa that rational thought fled her. All she wanted was shelter where she could rest and hide from the enemy. She stumbled through the portals of the keep. The dark, damp-smelling room enclosed her. She saw Reiko running toward her up the steps.

“Where are you?” Reiko called, her voice fraught with urgency. She rushed into the room, and the darkness erased her from Lady Yanagisawa’s view. “Come out!”

Though Lady Yanagisawa was thankful that Reiko hadn’t abandoned her, she didn’t answer. If she went, Reiko would make her run until those men caught and killed them. She ducked behind the old cannon.

Ota’s partner staggered, panting, in through the doorway. Lady Yanagisawa glimpsed a swift motion behind him, and a flash of moonlight on steel. The samurai yowled. There was a loud thud as he fell on the floor. Lady Yanagisawa realized that Reiko had cut him down.

“We have to go now,” Reiko hissed. “Ota is coming. He knows where we are. Quick, before he gets here!”

Lady Yanagisawa didn’t want to leave her shelter. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw a shaft of faint light beaming down through the ceiling. Into it rose the stairway. Lady Yanagisawa clambered up the rickety slats. Through the second level she ascended. Vermin skittered and nesting doves cooed, disturbed by her noise. Reaching the third story, she heard Reiko’s rapid footsteps on the stairs, and Ota’s pounding after them. The racket echoed through the keep. Lady Yanagisawa climbed faster. She saw the moon, round and radiant, framed by the square hole above her. She flung herself up the last steps, out the hole, and onto the summit of the tower.

Its uppermost story was exposed to the sky and wind, and littered with broken roof tiles, flaked plaster, and charred, splintered timbers. From the crumbling edges of the floor, the tower’s lower portion extended in a steep drop. On three sides spread the forest’s treetops; below the fourth side, the lake shimmered. The height dizzied Lady Yanagisawa. She crouched within the corner of the remaining wall.

Reiko burst up through the hole. Ota followed, grabbing at Reiko’s skirts. She ran across the rubble-strewn floor and teetered at the brink. Pivoting, she raised her sword at Ota.

He laughed and said, “If you’d rather die than surrender, that’s fine with me.” He drew his sword.

Reality penetrated Lady Yanagisawa’s dazed fright. She’d brought Reiko up here; now Ota was going to kill Reiko. Horrified by the prospect of losing her only friend, Lady Yanagisawa watched Reiko swing her weapon. Ota parried. The clanging impact of their blades knocked Reiko perilously close to the tower’s edge. They whirled, lunged, and slashed as they skirted the perimeter. The moon illuminated Reiko’s determined, terrified face in flashes as she spun. Although she fought with skill and courage, Ota managed many more strikes than she did. He kept her busy parrying and dodging. He was using his greater strength to tire her out. Lady Yanagisawa realized that there was nobody to help Reiko except herself.

She hefted a wooden beam in both hands. When Ota came near her, she swung with all her might. The beam hit the backs of his knees. They buckled under him. He staggered and pitched forward with a grunt of surprise. As he flung out his hands to break his fall, Reiko slashed her blade across his throat. A horrendous, liquid squeal came from him. Blood spurted, gleaming black in the moonlight. He collapsed facedown, dead.

In the sudden stillness, Lady Yanagisawa and Reiko gazed across Ota’s corpse at each other. Reiko let her sword fall. She breathed in shallow, rapid puffs, her mouth open, shocked at their sudden victory. Lady Yanagisawa dropped the beam. She and Reiko hugged, sobbing in relief.

“You saved my life,” Reiko said. “A million thanks!”

Lady Yanagisawa basked in their closeness. For once she felt truly cherished. But Reiko suddenly withdrew from her.

“Look!” Reiko cried, pointing toward the lake.

Dots of light on the water surrounded the island like a glowing rosary of beads. As Lady Yanagisawa and Reiko watched, the lights moved closer, borne on small boats crammed with men. Lady Yanagisawa could see them rowing. Above the gunfire and yells that pierced the night, she heard the oars splashing.

“They’re coming to rescue us!” Reiko hurried to the tower’s edge. Jubilant, she waved at the boats. “We’re saved!”

Gladness filled Lady Yanagisawa but quickly drained away. Now that rescue was near, mixed feelings assailed her. She wanted badly to see her daughter, yet she experienced dismay at the thought of going home to Edo. There waited the familiar pain of her unrequited love for the chamberlain. There, Reiko would return to her adoring husband and perfect son. There, Reiko wouldn’t need Lady Yanagisawa. Now the ever-present jealousy of Reiko skewered Lady Yanagisawa’s heart.

Reiko turned, still poised at the edge of the tower. Her beautiful, joyful face ignited the ever-present furnace of anger in Lady Yanagisawa. Possessed by irresistible impulse, she thrust her hands against Reiko’s chest and pushed.

Surprise jolted Reiko as her feet faltered off the tower and she listed backward over the edge. She flung out her arms, trying to regain her balance. Lady Yanagisawa’s face, twisted with cruel, gleeful triumph, hovered over her for a moment. Then Reiko was falling through empty space, arms and legs flailing. The tower wall rushed upward past her horrified eyes. A scream tore from her. Then she hit the lake.

The tremendous splash against her back knocked the breath from her lungs. Cold water swirled around Reiko as she plunged through its depths. Its roar filled her ears; its turbulent blackness blinded her. As she bobbed up, her heart hammered with panic, and she fought the urge to inhale. She beat her hands and pumped her legs against the water, trying to reach air. Her long hair, sleeves, and skirt entangled her.

She couldn’t believe Lady Yanagisawa had pushed her off the tower! After everything they’d gone through together, Lady Yanagisawa’s ill will had once again prevailed over their friendship.

Reiko’s head broke the surface. She gulped a huge breath. The moon and stars glittered through the water that streamed down over her eyes. The tower loomed above her; the world rocked with her frantic struggles to keep afloat. How she wished she knew how to swim! Her thrashing produced not the slightest motion across the short distance to the island. As she began to weaken, she saw the tiny figure of Lady Yanagisawa, standing high up on the tower, watching her.

“Help!” Reiko cried.

Lady Yanagisawa vanished from sight. Reiko wished she’d been imprisoned with anyone else in the world except that demented woman. She’d felled the Dragon King and escaped his palace, only to be attacked by the ally that circumstances had forced her to trust. Now she strained to keep her head in the air, gurgling and spitting the water that washed over her face. Helplessness overwhelmed her. Unless a miracle happened, she would drown, and her spirit would join the real, legendary Dragon King in his palace at the bottom of the sea.

“Somebody just jumped from that tower.” As Sano crossed the lake in the boat he shared with Detectives Inoue and Arai, he leaned over the prow for a better look at the tower, where the plummeting figure and shrill cry had caught his attention. He squinted at the water near the tower’s submerged base, where he’d heard the splash.

A thunderous premonition struck him. His heart began thudding; wild excitement surged in him.

“Row over there,” he ordered, pointing at the splashes that still rippled the lake.

Inoue and Arai obeyed. The boat pulled ahead of the flotilla approaching the island. When they reached the spot where the figure had dropped, it had sunk below the surface. Sano reached into the water. His groping fingers found and grasped long hair. He pulled. Up came the head of a woman. She blinked water from terrified eyes; she wheezed through her gaping mouth. Her arms waved within the billowy folds of the patterned kimono she wore.

“Reiko-san!” exclaimed Sano.

As her gaze focused and she recognized him, Reiko moaned and clutched at Sano. He and Detective Inoue hauled her, drenched and dripping, into the boat. Filled with joy, he caught her in a tight embrace.

“Thank the gods you’re alive,” he said in a voice thick with emotion.

Reiko sobbed with relief, shivered from the cold. “This is a miracle!”

“You took a dangerous risk by jumping from that tower,” Sano said. “You could have been killed.”

“I didn’t jump,” Reiko said between chattering teeth. “She pushed me.”

Sano removed his cloak and wrapped it around her. “Who did?”

“Lady Yanagisawa.” Hysterical laughter bubbled from Reiko. “She did me a favor, and she doesn’t know it.”

“What are you talking about?” Sano said, fearful that the near-drowning had addled his wife.

“Never mind. We have to save Lady Keisho-in and Midori.”

Another boat neared theirs. From it Chamberlain Yanagisawa called, “Sōsakan Sano! What’s going on?” His face registered surprise as he beheld Reiko. “I see you’ve found your wife.” He said to her, “Where is Lady Keisho-in?”

“We got separated,” Reiko said. “The last time I saw her, she was in the castle grounds.”

Yanagisawa ordered his men to row him around the island to the castle. Their boat sped away. Others were reaching shore, the troops disembarking. The siege had begun. Reiko turned to Sano. “I left Midori in the grounds, too. We must find her.”

While Detectives Inoue and Arai rowed their boat after the chamberlain, Reiko wrung out her wet hair. Sano said, “Where is Dannoshin?” Reiko looked puzzled. “The man who kidnapped you,” Sano clarified.

“Oh. I didn’t know his name,” Reiko said, averting her gaze. “How did you discover who he is? How did you find this place?”

Sano summarized the events that had led up to his arrival. Reiko listened without comment, distracted by her own thoughts. “Did Dannoshin hurt you?” Sano said anxiously.

Though Reiko shook her head, Sano knew something was wrong, but he didn’t press for an explanation. Right now, it was enough to have her back alive and apparently uninjured. And they had work to do.

Their boat rounded the island and drew near the castle buildings. “Have you seen Dannoshin?” Sano said.

After a moment’s hesitation, Reiko nodded. “He was in the palace. I’ll show you where.”

Chamberlain Yanagisawa, accompanied by six bodyguards, hastened in the castle gate. Their lanterns illuminated the path through the overgrown garden, then the dingy, vine-choked palace and its gaping doorway. Although the sounds of shooting, scuffles, and clanging blades multiplied as the invaders stormed the island, an unnatural stillness cloaked the palace.

“Let’s reconnoiter the area,” Yanagisawa told his men.

As they stole around the castle, watching for signs of life, Yanagisawa’s pulse accelerated and urgency fevered him. His purpose had evolved beyond rescuing Lady Keisho-in and scoring a point with the shogun. He needed more than to save his lover from execution. General Isogai’s refusal to obey his orders had revealed the disturbing fact that he’d lost control of the army. Tens of thousands of Tokugawa soldiers would ally with Lord Matsudaira, Lord Kii, Priest Ryuko, and his other foes. Rescuing Keisho-in had therefore become a matter of survival. Success would allow him to maintain his hold on the shogun and country long enough to rebuild his power base. Failure would slide him farther down the slippery slope toward ruin.

He steered his retinue across the exposed foundation of a demolished building, toward the palace’s interior. Suddenly he heard a raucous voice shout, “Get away from me, you filthy brutes!” Such glad relief buoyed his spirits that he laughed.

“That’s her,” he said.

The voice shouted more imprecations. Yanagisawa and his men followed it down a walled passage, into a courtyard enclosed by two-story buildings. In the center of the courtyard, three peasant hoodlums surrounded Lady Keisho-in. Their hands reached out to grab as they circled her. The old woman held a long sword that she’d somehow acquired. Clumsily gripping the hilt in both hands, she swung it at the hoodlums.

“Yah!” she cried.

The hoodlums leapt back. As the force of her swing sent Keisho-in reeling, one hoodlum charged at her. She whipped the blade around, slashed his chest, and laid him flat.

“That will teach you to kidnap me!” She chortled in triumph.

Her other attackers spied Yanagisawa and his men, and took off running. “Go after them,” Yanagisawa told several troops. Then he said to Keisho-in, “It’s all right, Your Highness. You’re safe now.”

“Hah!” she cried, flailing the sword at him. “Take that!”

Yanagisawa ducked just in time to avoid a cut to his head. Keisho-in obviously hadn’t listened to what he said and mistook him for one of the kidnappers. Her watery eyes were crazed, her rotten teeth bared in a ferocious grin. Again she swung at him.

“It’s Chamberlain Yanagisawa,” he said as he dodged again. “I’ve come to rescue you.”

Or he would if she didn’t kill him first. Keisho-in spun and tripped. Yanagisawa caught her from behind, locking his arms around her waist. They reeled and tottered together in a ludicrous dance.

“Let me go, you beast!” Keisho-in shouted.

“Help me!” Yanagisawa commanded his men.

Reiko, Sano, and the two detectives landed onshore and climbed out of the boat. Sano called to troops arriving in another boat and told them to look for Midori. Then Reiko showed him and Inoue and Arai the way to the Dragon King. Around them in the forest, battles broke out between the invaders and defenders. War cries and the clash of steel blades shattered the night. A coil of apprehension twisted inside Reiko, because she dreaded returning to that chamber.

In through the palace’s main entrance they hurried. The castle seemed a desolate ruin, abandoned by the kidnappers who’d scattered to fight for their lives. While Reiko led Sano and the detectives up the stairs, she silently prayed that they would find the Dragon King lying dead where she’d left him. If he was dead, he couldn’t hurt her. Nor could he tell Sano what had happened between them.

She and her companions reached the second floor. Incense smoke wafted from the Dragon King’s chamber. Reiko pointed at its door. “In there.”

Sano and his men drew their swords. Detective Inoue cautiously entered first. Reiko and Sano went next. Detective Arai followed. The antechamber was vacant; battle noise drifted in from the balcony. They filed through the opening in the partition. Inside the bedchamber, the Dragon King was kneeling, fully dressed, before the funeral altar with its burning incense and candles. Dismay sickened Reiko. His head turned. His face was bruised and raw from their fight. Blood had run out of his nostrils, down his mouth. He regarded Sano and the detectives with wary unease, but as he spied Reiko, the smoldering light rekindled in his gaze.

“Anemone,” he said.

Sano gave Reiko a questioning look. She said, “He thinks I’m his dead mother.” She hoped she needn’t explain any more.

The Dragon King’s dagger lay unsheathed on the altar. He picked up the weapon. Sano leapt forward, pointing the blade of his sword at the Dragon King.

“Put it down, Dannoshin-san,” he said. “You’re under arrest.”

The Dragon King ignored Sano; he appeared not to see the detectives surround him. He shifted himself to face Reiko. His open robes revealed his naked torso and his loincloth. “When you told me that our time together would soon end, you were right, my dearest,” he said. “The evil influences around us have besieged me. Now I must commit seppuku and avoid the disgrace of capture.”

Reiko saw two small, shallow knife wounds on his abdomen: He’d inflicted preliminary cuts, working up the courage to kill himself. The red-tipped dagger shook in his hand. Sano and the detectives held their positions, eyeing him warily.

“Before I die, there is something I must confess, Anemone.” The Dragon King’s voice quavered with emotion. “For twelve years I’ve kept a secret that has weighed heavily upon me. I must unburden myself to you.” His eyes begged for Reiko’s attention and sympathy.

“You don’t have to listen,” Sano told Reiko.

Much as Reiko would rather leave the Dragon King and never see him again, she felt obliged to let him speak. Sano needed to know what he had to say because it might bear upon his crimes. And although she feared he would mention what had transpired tonight, a samurai on the verge of ritual suicide deserved a hearing even if he was a criminal.

“It’s all right,” Reiko said. “Let him talk.”

Hirata, Marume, and Fukida watched in consternation while burning torches lit up the night and an army of samurai charged through the forest around them.

“Where did they come from?” said Fukida, at the exact instant Marume said, “The island is under attack!”

“There’s three more over there,” shouted someone among the horde. “Catch them!”

Hirata recognized the voice. Gladness filled him, even while the attackers homed in on him. “It’s our detective corps,” he said, then called, “Wait, Kato-san! Don’t attack! It’s me-Hirata.”

War cries gave way to happy greetings as the corps joined Hirata. “So you got here first,” Kato said. “We wondered what had become of you three.”

“Is Sano-san here?” Hirata asked nervously.

“Him and Chamberlain Yanagisawa, too. Where are Lady Keisho-in and the other women?”

“I don’t know. We just got into the wing of the palace where we saw them imprisoned the day before yesterday. But they aren’t there anymore.”

Distant shouts echoed amid the thud of boat hulls against land. Kato said, “It sounds like the Tokugawa army has arrived. This siege is going to be chaos. We’ll be lucky if we don’t slaughter each other instead of the enemy.”

Moments ago, Hirata had feared that the kidnappers had killed the women; he’d hoped they’d somehow escaped. Now he was alarmed to think of Midori wandering the island while a battle raged and troops running amok felled anyone in sight.

“Help me find the women before they’re killed by accident,” Hirata told the detective corps. Then he turned to Fukida and Marume. “Let’s look around the palace.”

They were foraging amid ruined structures and dense vegetation, when a plaintive wail halted them. “What was that?” Fukida said.

“It sounded like a cat,” Marume said.

But the noise evoked wild hopes in Hirata that his mind hardly dared articulate. “Midori!” he yelled.

Pivoting in a circle, he scanned trees and rubble heaps. He heard an answering cry, and spotted her. She sat wedged between a broken wall and a shrub. Her arms cradled a small bundle. She leapt up from her hiding place and into Hirata’s arms.

“You came to save me!” she cried. A torrent of weeping shook her. “I knew you would!”

Tears stung Hirata’s own eyes. He embraced his wife, too overcome by joy to speak. Midori showed him the bundle. “This is our new daughter,” she said, then cooed to the baby, “Look, it’s your father.”

“She knows,” Hirata said. “She called to me.”

He beheld the solemn eyes in the baby’s wrinkled little face. Paternal love and pride warmed his heart. Then he heard a man shout, “There she is!” He saw Lord Niu, followed by a squadron of retainers, bustling toward him and Midori.

Hirata gaped in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked Niu.

“Rescuing my daughter.” Lord Niu barely glanced at the baby. “You’re coming with me,” he told Midori. He seized her arm and yanked her away from Hirata.

“No, Father!” Midori cried.

Incensed by the daimyo’s proprietary attitude, Hirata held Midori’s other arm. Fukida and Marume grabbed Lord Niu and tried to break his grip on Midori. His men wrestled Hirata. As the opposing sides tugged at her, Midori screamed and the baby cried. Hirata marveled that even though his father-in-law wasn’t the kidnapper, he’d ended up battling Lord Niu anyway.

“Let go of her, you piece of horse dung!” Lord Niu’s crooked face blazed with anger.

“She’s my wife,” Hirata shouted. “You let go!”

“When you fell in love with that villain Hoshina, I thought that if my father knew about your affair, he would put an end to it,” the Dragon King said to Reiko. “I thought he would use his influence to have Hoshina banished from the city.”

The candles flickered; sweet, pungent smoke curled up from the incense sticks. Outside the chamber, the battle raged on while Sano, Reiko, and the detectives listened.

“It was a hot summer day,” the Dragon King continued. “You were absent from home. My father was in his study. When I told him about your affair, he just thanked me, then sent me away. All that day I waited for him to act. When you came home at dusk, I watched him ask you to go boating with him. I thought he was going to confront you about Hoshina. I wanted to watch what happened. As you and my father rode to Lake Biwa in your palanquin, I followed on foot.

“It was getting dark, and the road to the lake was crowded with traffic. Neither of you noticed me.” A bitter smile twisted the Dragon King’s mouth. “But my father never did pay me much attention. He favored his older sons. He thought I was a stupid weakling. And your thoughts were too full of Hoshina.

“When we reached the lake, my father rowed you out on the water in his boat. I rented a boat at the pier and rowed after you. The night sky was lit up with fireworks. You and my father stopped far out on the lake where it was dark. I stopped some distance away. I could see the lantern glowing on your boat, and the two of you sitting under the canopy. There was no lantern on my boat. You didn’t know I was there.”

“No one knew,” Sano said softly, and Reiko saw his startled frown. “The official records don’t mention a witness.”

“Then my father told you that he’d discovered your affair,” continued the Dragon King. “You denied it. My father said he knew about your trysts. You tried to convince him that Hoshina meant nothing to you. But I knew better. So did my father.” The Dragon King’s tone scorned the lies. “Though you told him you loved him and you begged his forgiveness, he wasn’t appeased. He shouted, ‘You’ll pay for betraying me!’ And he threw you in the lake.”

Horror glazed the Dragon King’s eyes. “I swear I never suspected that my father would hurt you, Anemone.” He extended a pleading hand toward Reiko. “Had I known, I never would have told him about your affair. You must believe me!”

Reiko was astounded. By telling tales on his mother, the Dragon King had delivered her to her death. He was at least as responsible for Anemone’s murder as Hoshina was.

“I watched you struggle in the water,” the Dragon King said. “I listened as you called for help. I saw my father row the boat away. I was so stunned that I couldn’t move.” He sat rigid and stared blankly, as he must have that night. “I just sat while you fought for your life. I watched my father stop his boat and begin to weep.”

Reiko saw the scene shimmering between her and the Dragon King. Sano and the detectives beheld him as though entranced.

“He drew his short sword,” the Dragon King said. “I realized he was going to commit seppuku. And I was the only person able to prevent him from killing himself, or you from drowning. I drew a breath to call to him. I started rowing toward you.”

The Dragon King pantomimed his actions. “But then, I remembered how my father never spoke to me except to criticize. I remembered that you had spurned me. My love for you, and my filial piety toward my father, turned to hatred. Suddenly, death seemed like a just punishment for the way you’d treated me.” Vindictive anger blazed from the Dragon King. “So I watched my father slash his throat. I watched you disappear beneath the water.”

His gloating satisfaction repelled Reiko. “I sat there, intoxicated by my revenge,” he said. “But the intoxication soon faded. I was filled with horror that you’d drowned while I sat idle.” The Dragon King’s expression reflected his words. “I quickly rowed toward where you’d sunk.

“But the lantern on my father’s boat burned out. The fireworks had stopped. It was so dark that I could see nothing. I plunged my oar into the water, feeling for you. I called your name.” Tears poured from the Dragon King’s eyes, mingling with the blood on his face. “I searched until dawn. But the lake was as smooth as a mirror. You had vanished without a trace. So I rowed back to shore and went home.

“Ever since that terrible night I’ve grieved for you, Anemone,” the Dragon King said to Reiko as he wept. “For twelve years I’ve worshiped at your funeral altar. For twelve years I schemed to avenge your death.”

Now Reiko understood why he’d pursued Hoshina’s destruction with such excessive zeal. His father, who had killed Anemone, was beyond harm. The Dragon King had transferred his own share of the blame for Anemone’s murder to Hoshina because he couldn’t bear the burden. He’d hoped that by punishing Hoshina, he could assuage his own guilt.

“For twelve years my secret has divided my spirit from yours.” He raised his hand, palm outward, fingers spread, as if against an invisible barrier between himself and Reiko. “It divides us still. I can’t see nor touch you without remembering what I did.”

Reiko also finally understood the reason for his impotence with her and other women. His guilt, not his love for Anemone, had emasculated him.

Sobs convulsed the Dragon King. “The only way for us to reunite is for me to join you in death.”

He lifted the dagger, both hands grasping the hilt, pointing the blade at his middle. Reiko averted her face so that she wouldn’t see the blade zigzag through flesh and vital organs. Sano took her arm and backed her toward the door. The Dragon King breathed in quick, sharp gasps. A groan of frustration and rage issued from him.

“I can’t!” he cried.

Reiko turned and saw him grappling with the dagger. His hands shook violently. The blade’s tip impinged on his stomach. Spasms wrenched his face as he tried to muster the courage to take his own life. Yet he could no more thrust the dagger into himself than he could enter a woman.

The Dragon King ceased struggling. He dropped his hands and the dagger onto his lap. He looked up, his features a blur of tears, defeat, and shame. His gaze lit on Sano.

“Execute Hoshina. Grant me my vengeance,” he said quietly, then gave Reiko a tender, wistful smile. “May our spirits reunite in the real Dragon King’s underwater palace someday.”

He bounded to his feet with a sudden, startling roar and charged across the room toward Reiko. The detectives grabbed for him, but too late. Reiko saw the Dragon King raise the dagger at her. His swift, unexpected motion froze her in terror. She saw the desperate intent in his eyes, and her death impending. But Sano moved even faster. He lashed his sword between Reiko and the Dragon King.

The blade gashed the Dragon King deep across the abdomen. His roar became a squeal of agony. He dropped, spilling blood and viscera from the wound. The dagger fell from his hand. Reiko saw consciousness flee his eyes, and death wipe the expression off his face, even before he crumpled to the floor and lay still. Sano turned her away and enfolded her in his arms. She swooned with horror, delayed shock, and gratitude toward Sano. When her racing heartbeat slowed and her mind cleared, she comprehended what the Dragon King had done.

“He was a coward to the end,” she said. “He had his men kidnap Lady Keisho-in and the rest of us. He wanted the shogun to kill Hoshina for him. Then he attacked me so you would kill him, because he wasn’t brave enough to commit seppuku. He wanted to die here rather than face a trial, scandal, and public execution.”

“He’s proved that a coward can do more harm than many a braver man,” Sano said. His voice was hard; his sword dripped blood as he surveyed the scene. “There’s no need to commiserate over his death. Let’s go. He can stay here for now.”

Before leaving the palace, Reiko leaned over the altar and blew out the candles.

Sano, Reiko, and Detectives Inoue and Arai exited the palace gate to find the square outside as brightly lit, crowded, and noisy as a temple precinct during a festival. Lanterns ringed the perimeter. Troops milled about or bandaged minor wounds; they swilled sake from flasks while bantering about their exploits during the raid on the island. Others guarded a few of the Dragon King’s men who’d been taken prisoner and now squirmed on the pavement with their wrists and ankles bound. In the middle of the square, Midori and Hirata sat happily fussing over their baby. Near them, Detectives Marume and Fukida lay fast asleep, while Lady Keisho-in regaled General Isogai and the army with tales of her adventures. Reiko hurried to Midori. They exclaimed in delight to find each other safe. Chamberlain Yanagisawa approached Sano.

“Some of our men are continuing to search the island,” Yanagisawa said, “but most of the kidnappers seem to have been killed or captured. Did you find Dannoshin?”

Sano nodded, still amazed by the Dragon King’s confession. He had thought he’d learned everything about the man’s crimes before he got here, but the murder that had inspired them had proved to have dimensions he’d never suspected. “I killed him.”

“Then our mission was a success, and all is well,” Yanagisawa said.

But Sano thought otherwise. He was troubled by questions about what had happened to Reiko during her imprisonment. He looked at Hirata, and their gazes met. The smile vanished from Hirata’s face. His expression turned defensive. Sano knew he must eventually take Hirata to task for disobeying orders. A sense of unfinished business permeated tonight’s victory.

Lady Keisho-in clapped her hands. “Listen, everyone,” she ordered. When the crowd quieted and all eyes turned to her, she said, “Thank you for rescuing me. But don’t waste any more time sitting on your behinds and congratulating yourselves. I’m sick of this terrible place. Let’s go home!”

Amid the general stir of agreement, Reiko spoke: “Lady Yanagisawa is still missing.”

Sano had forgotten about her; and so, apparently, had everyone else, including the chamberlain. A commotion ensued as the assembly realized that the rescue wasn’t complete. Sano was about to organize a search for Lady Yanagisawa, when Keisho-in said, “There she is!”

Sano looked in the direction that Keisho-in pointed. He saw Lady Yanagisawa standing alone at the edge of the forest. Her hair and clothes were disarrayed, her posture and clasped hands rigid. With her furtive, wary expression, she seemed a harbinger of trouble yet to come.