Shadow Of The Fox: a must read mythical new Japanese adventure from New York Times bestseller Julie Kagawa

My insides turned to ice. Master Isao smiled gently and raised the scroll once more. “So you see, Yumeko-chan,” he said, “our fate was already foretold. Whoever left you at the gates of the temple knew this was coming, and that you would play a part in the tale, the fourth coming of the Dragon.”

Numb, I stared at him, not really comprehending what he just told me. A thud echoed through the hall, and with a gasp, one of the monks behind us collapsed, holding his head. For the first time, a bead of sweat appeared on Master Isao’s forehead and ran down his face. I shook myself out of my trance and clutched at his sleeve. “Why?” I whispered. “I’m not ready. Why does it have to be me?”

His withered hand closed over mine. “Because you are the only one who can do this. Listen carefully, Yumeko-chan.” Master Isao squeezed my hand, and the strength in his fingers calmed me somewhat. “We are not alone in our mission, nor are we the only guardians. There is another temple, another order that guards a piece of the scroll. You must go to them. Warn them of what happened here. They will protect you, and the Dragon’s prayer. It is their sacred duty to do so.”

“Where are they?”

“I cannot tell you,” Master Isao said. “I do not know, myself. It is a legendary place of myth and rumor, and its location has been lost to the ages. I know only its name—the Steel Feather temple. And that it is somewhere very far from here.

“But...” he added before I could protest in despair. “There is one who knows the location of the temple. You must travel to Kin Heigen Toshi, the capital city in the center of the Sun lands. Within the city is the Hayate shrine—go there and ask for the head priest, Master Jiro. He can tell you the location of the Steel Feather temple.”

“Master...” Tears were running down my cheeks; my stomach was curling around itself in both terror and anguish. “I can’t. I can’t do it alone.”

“You can,” Master Isao said firmly, and held up the scroll once more. “You must. This is my last request. Take the scroll to the Steel Feather temple. Warn them of what transpired here, that someone wishes to bring the pieces of the Dragon scroll together once more. Do not let our deaths be in vain.” Another crash sounded outside, and he closed his eyes. “Promise me, Yumeko-chan. You must protect the scroll. The fate of this land depends on it.”

With shaking hands, I reached out and took the scroll, wrapping trembling fingers around the case. It was surprisingly light in my palm. “I promise,” I whispered. “I swear I’ll find the Steel Feather temple, warn the other monks and protect the scroll. I won’t fail you.”

He smiled. “Take this as well,” he said, and pressed a tanto, a short, straight dagger, into my palm. “It will come in handy, when defending yourself with words and cunning is not enough. And this.” He draped a simple furoshiki—a wrapping cloth used for transporting clothes, gifts, or other possessions—around my shoulders. “To hide your burden from the rest of the world. Now, go.” He nodded toward the statue. “Don’t worry about us, and don’t cry. We will meet again, Yumeko-chan, in the Pure Lands or in another life.”

With a mighty crash that shook the entire hall, the barrier shattered. Monks gasped or cried out, hands going to their heads, and the floor trembled as the huge oni stepped into the room, a flood of demons behind him.

“Go, Yumeko-chan,” Master Isao said, and his voice was icy. Stone-faced, he rose and stepped toward the hulking thing in the doorway. Feeling like a coward, I skittered half-behind the Jade Prophet, knowing I had to leave, but unable to tear my eyes away. Master Isao and the others waited calmly as the shadow of the demon grew larger, its eyes glowing like red coals against the dark.

The oni smiled as he entered the hall, ducking his massive head as he stepped into the room, looming to a terrifying height. He was so large that his horns nearly scraped the ceiling. “Monks of the Silent Winds temple,” he rumbled, his terrible voice making the air shiver, “my name is Yaburama, fourth demon general of Jigoku, and I have come for the Dragon scroll.” He raised his tetsubo and swung it into his palm with a meaty thump, as the small demons hissed and chortled gleefully behind him, waiting for the signal to attack. “Give me what I have come for, and perhaps I will make your deaths painless.”

“Abomination!” Denga’s voice rang over the snarls and cackles of the demon horde. Fearlessly, he strode forward, until he was only a few yards away from the mountain of an oni. “We will never relinquish the scroll to such evil. You are not welcome here. By the Jade Prophet, begone, and take your minions with you!”

The oni cocked his head. Abruptly, he swung his club, shockingly fast, striking Denga in the side and smashing him into a pillar. The monk hit the beam with a sickening crack and crumpled to the floor, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, eyes staring sightlessly ahead. I bit my lip to stifle a shriek, and the oni curled a lip.

“Your Jade Prophet means nothing to me,” he commented, as the demons shrieked with laughter and swarmed into the room.

With cries of fury and outrage, the monks surged forward, meeting the demons in the center of the hall. They were unarmed, and their opponents wielded blades and spears as well as claws and teeth. But the monks were far from defenseless. Ki energy pulsed, turning fists into hammers and feet into weapons of destruction. A demon’s skull imploded after Nitoru kicked it in the head, spraying demon blood everywhere before it writhed into crimson-black smoke and disappeared. A trio of demons swarmed Satoshi, who caught a spear thrust at him, wrenched it out of the demon’s grasp and plunged it through its gaping mouth. But he didn’t see the danger behind him until a second demon sank a kama sickle deep into his leg. Satoshi staggered and dropped to a knee, and the monsters piled on him, dragging him to the floor.

Yumeko! Master Isao’s voice rang in my head, though the master of the Silent Winds temple strode right for the center of the room, ki energy crackling around him, where the terrible oni waited. Go, now!

I turned toward the hole in the floor and prepared to shift into fox form. But a bulbous blue head poked up between the boards, and a demon clawed itself out of the hole, followed by two friends. When they saw me, they hissed and raised their spears, and I hastily backed up.

Jinkei help me, I was trapped. I couldn’t go forward with the trio blocking the hole, and I couldn’t go back into the room, where the battle between monks and demons raged. The din was deafening, screams and howls mingling with flashes of ki, flying bodies and blood. As the trio of demons grinned evilly and tensed, I raised my arm, and a ball of blue-white foxfire flared to life in my palm. The blue demon glanced at the ghostly flames and sneered, making my heart sink; apparently a ball of kitsune-bi to the face wasn’t going to work a second time.

With a roar, the massive bulk of the oni flew backward and crashed into the statue of the Jade Prophet, knocking her off her base. The statue teetered for a moment, giving me just enough time to scramble away, before toppling through the wall with a deafening crash of wood and stone. The three amanjaku were buried under the rubble, and a warm, smoke-scented breeze rushed into the hall from the hole it left behind.

I cringed, ducking behind one of the pillars lining the room, as the oni shook its head and looked up at Master Isao, who stood in the center of the room. The monk was breathing hard, blood running down his face from beneath his hat, both palms raised.

A deep growl came from the oni, sitting against the ruined statue. “You hit hard, for a mortal,” the monster rumbled, getting to its feet. “Well done, but it will not save you. The amanjaku are tearing your brothers apart as we speak. No one is left.” He craned his neck from side to side, rolled his shoulders forward and raised his club. “It is time to end these games. Let us see if you have the ki to do that again!”

The oni lunged with a roar. As he barreled forward, raising his club high overhead, Master Isao’s calm gaze flicked to me. In the moment our gazes met, he smiled.

Go, Yumeko-chan, whispered his voice in my head, gentle and serene. Run.

This time I didn’t wait to see what happened, if the terrible crash from the oni’s club struck home or not. I whirled and sprinted through the hole left from the fallen Prophet, scrambling over splintered beams and broken jade, whispering an apology as I stepped over a shattered green arm. Then I was outside, and the air was hot and choking. Blinded by tears, I tripped over a plank and skinned my hands when I fell, and the lacquered scroll case rolled away from me, gleaming in the firelight.

My blood chilled. Snatching it up, I half ran, half stumbled into the gardens, past the pond full of dead, floating carp, to the old maple tree leaning against the wall. After quickly tucking the scroll into the furoshiki and the tanto into my obi, I pulled myself up by the gnarled branches, wondering how the once familiar act could feel so strange and surreal. I wouldn’t be doing this ever again.

At the top of the wall, I spared one final look back at my home, the temple I’d lived in all my life, and felt a lump rise to my throat. The pagoda was now a skeletal ruin engulfed by flames, and the fire had spread to the other buildings, including the main hall. I could make out only the roof over the tops of the trees, but a stray ember on one corner had turned into a flame, which would quickly spread and consume the wooden building until there was nothing left. I didn’t dare imagine what was happening inside, the lives that were lost, the monks who stood bravely against a horde of demons. Everyone I’d ever known—Jin, Satoshi, Nitoru, Denga, Master Isao and all the rest—they were gone. They’d gone willingly to their deaths, all to protect the scroll.

A tiny globe of light, pale against the smoke and darkness, rose from the roof of the burning hall. It was joined by another, and then another, until there were more than a dozen glowing orbs rising slowly into the air and leaving trails of light behind them. My throat closed up, and fresh tears streamed down my cheeks. Not one of the spheres of light hesitated or stayed near the temple; all rose steadily toward the stars. They had no regrets, no lingering sorrows or thoughts of vengeance, nothing that tied them to this world. They were free.

Deep inside my chest, a tiny, blue-white flame of anger flickered, burning away the despair, and I breathed deep to banish the tears.

“I won’t fail,” I promised, as the lights drifted slowly away, toward Meido or the Pure Lands, or wherever they were headed. “If...if this is truly my destiny, then I’ll give it my all. Don’t worry, Master Isao, everyone. I’ll find the Steel Feather temple and protect the scroll, I promise.”

My words had no effect on the rapidly fading lights. They continued rising into the sky until they were no larger than the stars themselves, and disappeared.

I blinked rapidly. Safe journey, everyone. May we meet again, in this life or the next.

A hiss in the gardens drew my attention. Looking down, I met the crimson eyes of a demon, who jerked up as he saw me, as well. As it gave a shrill cry of alarm and raised its weapon, I dropped to the ground outside the wall and sprinted into the forest.

7

An Unexpected Proposal

The path had disappeared.

I hesitated in the shadows of the forest, listening, my hand curled around my sword hilt. Sometime during my dash up the mountain, the trail I’d been following had either vanished or I’d lost it somehow, for uninterrupted woods surrounded me, dark and thick. It wasn’t terribly problematic; I could still hear the roar of a conflagration, and the breeze through the branches carried the scent of smoke and blood. I was going in the right direction.

I feared what I would find when I got there.

There was a rustle in the bushes ahead, and Kamigoroshi gave a warning pulse, just as something exploded from the darkness and lunged at me. My blade cleared its sheath in an instant, whipping up toward my attacker’s face. It—she?—yelped and skidded to a halt, as my brain caught up to my reflexes. Hakaimono roared, goading me to continue the motion, to bathe the steel in blood. I wrenched myself from the howling bloodlust and forced my hands to stop.

The blade froze an inch from her neck. Panting, I looked across the glowing edge of the sword, into the face and wide black eyes of a girl.

She was my age, perhaps a bit younger. Small, petite, wearing a short crimson robe pattered with white swirls. Her black hair hung loose around her shoulders and down her back, and her large dark eyes, peering up at me, were round with shock.

For a moment, we stared at each other, bathed in the faint purple light of Kamigoroshi. Her face was dirty, smudged with ash and grime, and she was breathing hard, as if she had been fleeing the fire with the rest of the wildlife.

Then there was a snap in the trees behind her, and I realized why she’d been running.

“Get back,” I said, and shoved her behind me, as an amanjaku leaped through the bushes with a howl, a sickle raised over its head. I smacked the curved blade aside and slashed Kamigoroshi across its face, making it shriek and reel away. More demons swarmed from the bushes, stabbing and hacking wildly as they rushed forward. They died on my sword as I carved limbs from bodies and heads from torsos, black demon blood arcing into the air. Hakaimono reveled in their deaths, but I kept myself detached from the demon’s rage. I was the hand that wielded Kamigoroshi, nothing more. I felt nothing as I sent the creatures back to Jigoku.

When the last demon fell, I flicked steaming blood from my sword, sheathed Kamigoroshi despite the protests in my mind and looked around for the girl.

She peered from behind a tree trunk, watching me with big dark eyes. Surprised, I turned to face her fully. I had half expected her to be gone, fleeing the forest while the demons were busy attacking me. I caught the glint of metal in her hand and saw the hilt of a tanto clutched in her fist. Whether it was meant for me or the demons, I wasn’t certain.

“Merciful Jinkei,” she whispered, sounding breathless. Her eyes shone as she gazed around, at the fading tendrils of darkness on the wind. “You...that was...” Blinking, she looked up at me, her expression caught between awe and fear. “Who are you?”

Nothing. Nobody. A shadow on the wall, empty and unimportant. I turned away, toward the sound of distant flames. “Run,” I told the girl, not looking back. “Get out of here. Go to the village at the bottom of the mountain. You should be safe there.”

“Wait!” she cried as I started forward. I paused, but did not turn back. “You can’t go that way,” she said, and I heard her emerge from behind the tree. “It’s too dangerous. There are more demons, a whole horde of them. And there’s an oni!”

An oni. My eyes narrowed, even as Hakaimono gave the strongest flare of excitement I had ever felt from it. I had been killing dangerous yokai for the Shadow Clan since I was thirteen, the newest in a long line of Kage demonslayers to wield Kamigoroshi, but I had never faced a real oni. From what my sensei had told me, the greatest demons of Jigoku were nothing like the monsters I’d fought before. Tough, savage and virtually unstoppable, able to regenerate wounds, broken bones, even severed limbs at an astonishing rate. They were difficult to defeat, even with Kamigoroshi. In the past, more than one demonslayer who had gone to fight an oni had not survived the battle.

Fortunately, oni encounters were rare, as summoning one from Jigoku and binding the savage demon to your will required incredible power. Unfortunately, it meant that whomever had sent an oni here, to this forest, was likely after the same thing I was. Lady Hanshou hadn’t told me why she wanted this particular scroll, nor was it my place to ask. My mission was to retrieve the scroll, no matter what obstacles stood in my way.

“This oni,” I asked the girl, whose gaze I could still feel on my back. “Where is it?”

“The temple,” she replied, and her voice came out slightly choked. “At the top of the mountain. It killed everyone there and set the whole place on fire. Nothing is left.”

My spirits sank. If the demons had attacked and destroyed the temple, then the scroll was already gone. Destroyed, or in the hands of the oni. Setting my jaw, I headed into the trees. I had to see if the scroll was still there, if I could save it. And if the oni did indeed possess the scroll, I would challenge the demon and take it back, or die trying.

“Baka!” Something grabbed the hem of my jacket, tugging me to a halt. I spun, barely stopping myself from drawing Kamigoroshi and slicing my assailant in half. “Didn’t you hear me?” the girl asked, her dark gaze now wide with fear. “There’s an army of demons and an oni that way. If you go to the temple, they’ll kill you, like they did everyone else.”

Her eyes watered, moisture spilling down one cheek. I suddenly understood. “You came from the temple,” I stated quietly. “You saw everything.”

She nodded, swiping a dirty sleeve across her face. “Everyone died,” she whispered. “I barely got away. My master sacrificed himself so that I could escape. He fought the oni himself, though he knew it was going to kill him.”

“What were the demons after?” I asked, watching her closely. Perhaps, if she had come from the temple, she knew about the scroll, or where it was located. “Why did they attack?” I pressed. “Did they take anything?”

For just a moment, she hesitated. Her cheeks paled and she looked up at me with those dark eyes. For some reason, my skin prickled, and I fought the urge to look away. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know why they came, or what they wanted. I just know my temple is gone and demons killed everyone I’ve ever cared for. And if you go up there now, you’ll die, too.” She paused again, then held out her hand as if coming to a decision. “Come with me,” she said, to my surprise. “Before the demons find us. I can’t... I don’t want to be alone right now. We can head to the village and figure out what to do from there.”

“No.” I stepped back, away from her. “You can keep running. Get out of the forest. But I have business at the temple, something I must confirm.”

“What?” She stared at me in disbelief, as I turned and began walking away. “You can’t be serious. What is so important that you would risk your head getting crushed by an oni? Wait!”

Footsteps shuffled after mine. I turned once more and raised Kamigoroshi, making her stumble to a halt. “Don’t follow me,” I warned, as her gaze fell to the blade. “Go to the village. Warn them about the attack. Forget what you saw here.” Sheathing the sword, I headed into the darkness, toward the temple and the battle that awaited me at the top. “What happens now isn’t your concern.”

“The scroll isn’t there anymore.”

I stopped. Slowly, I turned around. The girl stood in the same place, watching me with a wary, almost defiant expression, her jaw set. “The scroll,” she repeated, so there would be no doubt. “You won’t find it. It’s no longer at the temple.”

“Where is it?”

She hesitated. Drawing my sword, I walked toward her. Her face paled and she backed away, but hit a tree after a few steps. “I don’t know,” she began, and froze as I placed the edge of Kamigoroshi against her neck. “Wait, please! You don’t understand.”

“Where is the scroll?” I asked again, stepping close. “Tell me or I’ll kill you.”

“It’s gone!” the girl burst out. “It’s not here anymore. Master Isao...he sensed the demons coming. He knew they wanted the scroll, so he sent it away. A...a few days ago.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

I tilted the blade up so it pressed lightly under her chin, and she gasped. “I don’t know!” she insisted, raising her head to escape the sword. “Master Isao didn’t tell me where it’s located. But...I know who does.”

“Who?”

She paused, her dark eyes flicking to mine over the blade. Again, I felt that odd flutter beneath my skin, reacting to her presence. “How do I know you won’t kill me if I tell you?”

“I give you my word,” I told her. “On my honor, if you tell me what I want, I won’t kill you.”

Carefully, she shook her head. “I need more than that, samurai,” she said, making me frown. A warrior’s vow was absolute, his honor preventing any hint of betrayal, and it was an insult to imply otherwise. To a samurai who broke his promise, the shame would be so great that seppuku—ritually killing himself—was the only answer.

Of course, I was shinobi, a shadow warrior, and followed a different code than the samurai. We operated in darkness, performing tasks that would make an honorable samurai cringe in horror and revulsion. But the girl didn’t know that.

She continued to watch me, her head and back pressed to the trunk, chin raised to escape the lethal blade against her throat. I kept a tight hold on the sword, both in my hand and in my mind, for Hakaimono was goading me to kill this insubordinate peasant nobody. “You can kill me now,” she said, “but then you’ll never find what you’re looking for.” I narrowed my eyes, and she shivered under my gaze, seeming to lose courage, before taking a deep breath and staring at me again. “I have...a proposal for you,” she announced. “So please listen before you decide to cut off my head. The demons will come after me. Once they figure out the scroll isn’t here, they’ll hunt me down. Right now, the scroll is on its way to another temple, a hidden temple, far away. I need to get to that temple, to warn the monks of the demon attack. I promised my mentor I would.”

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