Samurai Son (33 page)

Chapter Sixty-Seven

The dragon swam toward the ocean at a frightening speed.
 
Kasumi closed her eyes and braced for the impact with the water.
 
She was certain it would dive deep and drown her.
 
But just as the dragon approached the water, it slowed down and leveled its flight, swooping low over the waves.

Kasumi released her breath with a gasp, not even realizing she had held it before now.
 
Her hands had partially morphed into tiger claws, and her skin took on faded black and orange stripes.
 
She willed herself back into human form and tried to calm herself.
 
The dragon continued toward the island.

What was that about?
 
Her mental voice held the tiger’s throaty growl.

There is another dragon on the island,
the dragon responded.
 
While he knows we are coming, it is best that I don’t challenge his territory.
 
The dragon’s voice was strangely reticent.

Kasumi raised an eyebrow.
 
She hadn’t thought about dragons and territories, but now she wondered if perhaps they were not so different from cats or tigers.
 
The Neko tended to have their different territories, avoiding confrontation whenever possible.
 
Could the dragons be the same way?

The dragon skirted the island along the southeast side.
 
The balmy air felt good after such a long flight in the cold, and Kasumi closed her eyes, tasting the sea breeze in her nostrils.
 
Tenko pawed her and she opened her eyes again to view an impressive sight.
 
A great volcanic mountain rose along the northeastern side of the island, several miles from the coast.
 
It was larger than the other volcanoes she had seen, and smoke curled from the vent.
 
The air held a faint tang of sulfur.

As they headed around Shinobi-jima, coniferous forests gave way to fields of rice paddies and tea terraces.
 
Kasumi studied them intently.
 
From this distance, most seemed unused and overgrown.
 
There were ruins as well, large stone palaces worn and crumbling from centuries of decay.
 
Along the eastern part of the island, she could see a walled village or a small city.
 
She guessed that Akira would be there, if anywhere.
 
I didn’t know the ninja had such a large island or so many palaces,
she said to the dragon.
 
These buildings must have been abandoned a long time ago.

Indeed,
said the kitsune, startling her.
 
The Shinobi weren’t the only ones on this island, or so I have heard.

Who would’ve lived here?

The kitsune shrugged.
 
Before he could answer, the dragon dropped into the water, its legs splashing as it swam through the briny waves.
 
The sea had turned from blue-green to a clear blue with sand beneath so white, even Kasumi longed for a swim.
 
The dragon swam toward the shore, where miles of white sandy beach met the forests of bamboo and pine.
 
The splash of sea spray burned her eyes, and she squinted as they splashed onto the shore.

As the dragon’s massive claws dug into the sand, Kasumi heard Tenko yip with glee and pop out of her pack. He scampered down her arm with his sharp nails and leaped off the dragon in three jumps.
 
The fox skittered around in the sand, digging and chasing the ghost crabs that scuttled along the beach.
 
Despite herself, Kasumi laughed at the little fox’s antics.

She slid off the dragon onto the warm sand, her tabi crunching as she stepped.
 
Kasumi scanned the forest, and upon seeing no one, she sighed.
 
It would be a long walk to the walled village if she remembered where it was in relation to where they landed.
 
She watched as Tenko snapped at a crab.
 
Then she turned around to thank the dragon.
 
But there was nothing but the waves and the sky.
 
She stared over the sea, looking for some sign of the dragon.

“Turn around slowly, samurai.”

Kasumi nearly jumped at the voice.
 
She turned around, holding her hands up so the speaker could see she was not reaching for a weapon.
 
To her surprise, she stared at ten ninja.
 
They wore black with head coverings and masks over their noses and mouths to further conceal their identities.
 
The ninja in the front spoke.
 
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Kasumi glanced down where she had last seen Tenko, but the little kitsune had disappeared.
 
She straightened a bit, realizing she was alone.
 
“I am Naotaka Kasumi Neko of the Neko clan.
 
I was told that Takeshi Akira is here on this island, and I have come to look for him.”

The ninja considered her with his dark eyes.
 
“Ah, Neko-san, we have been expecting you.
 
Shigeko-shonin has asked that we bring you to our compound and show you hospitality.
 
Come with us.”

With that, the ninja led her into the bamboo and pine forest.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Akira swallowed hard as he felt the keen blade touch his neck.
 
His thoughts raced.
 
“Shinobi-jima?
 
The ninja isle?
 
That can’t be.”
 
He wanted to turn his head and look at his attackers, but he knew they would cut his throat if he moved even a little.

Harsh laughter fell on his ears.
 
“You thought you were on Kyotori-jima, samurai?”

“Must be a lousy sailor,” said another behind him.
 
“Kyotori is hundreds of miles to the west.”

“Where’d you come from?” the first ninja asked.
 
“How’d you get here?
 
There were no boats.”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Akira said.
 
He tried to listen between the poundings of his own heart for the number of breaths.
 
He counted three men, but he suspected there were more.
 
The ninja’s breath was hot and rank on his neck.
 
He might be able to twist and take him out with the wakizashi, but the others would kill him before he could flee.

“Try us,” said the ninja.

“The Tengu brought me here.”

His statement had the expected effect.
 
The men laughed.
 
Akira counted the voices: three, four, five.

Good,
said Rokuro.
 
You’re thinking.
 
I only see five here.

What about the ones we can’t see?
Akira asked.
 
He hated using mindspeak; he wasn’t sure if that was part of the bargain the Tengu made with him.
 
If it were, he had already violated his promise.
 
What’s more, mindspeak gave him a headache.
 
Still, he had to keep his conversation silent.

We’ll deal with them when we have to,
Rokuro said.

“Next you’ll be telling us that the Tengu plucked you from your bed and dropped you here,” the ninja hissed.

Akira barked a short laugh.
 
“Actually, they did,” he said.
 
“I am Stormhammer, half Tengu.”
 
With blinding speed, Akira grasped the hilt of the wakizashi and plunged it into the ninja’s stomach, dropping down as he did so.
 
The man screamed but was too slow, and the ninjato cut the air where Akira had been.
 
The other ninja had started forward, but Akira had drawn the no-dachi.
 
The four ninja held back as though waiting for him to move.

From behind him, Akira heard someone clapping.
 
He turned to see a woman, dressed in black, her lower face covered so all he could see were her eyes.
 
“Excellent, excellent, Takeshi Akira.”
 
She paused.
 
“Or should I call you Stormhammer?”

Akira stared at the woman.
 
She was armed with ninjato and carried a naginata in her hands.
 
“Who are you?” Akira asked.

“I am called Shigeko-shonin,” she said.

She’s the head ninja of this clan,
came Rokuro’s voice in his head.
 
Maybe even of Shinobi-jima.

“Very good,
no-dachi,
” said Shigeko.

Akira gaped.
 
“You can hear him?”

Shigeko pulled her mask down.
 
She was an older woman, but how old, Akira couldn’t guess because her face was as ageless as the Tengu women he had met.
 
She smiled slightly.
 
“Yes, I can hear your sword’s thoughts quite plainly.”
 
She studied him carefully.
 
“But your thoughts… I can’t hear them so well.”

Silence ensued as Akira noticed that the ninja had exchanged glances.
 
Her gaze had narrowed on him, and Akira shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not daring to lower the no-dachi.
 
“The Tengu brought me here,” Akira said.
 
“They said that this was once called Imperial Island.
 
They said I had business here.”

Shigeko cocked her head.
 
“They told you this was Imperial Island?
 
Did they call it
Kyotori-jima?
”

Akira hesitated.
 
He tried to recall Windcatcher’s words.
 
“I don’t know,” he said, at last.
 
“I don’t remember.
 
But I do remember he called this Imperial Island.”

“Interesting,” Shigeko said.
 
She walked slowly around Akira, making sure she was out of reach of the no-dachi as she did so.
 
Akira followed her with his eyes.
 
“You are correct.
 
This is Imperial Island—or so it was called thousands of years ago.”

“Thousands of years ago?”
 
Akira stared.
 
“Kyotori wasn’t always the seat of the emperor’s power?”

Shigeko nodded.
 
“But that conversation is for another time.
 
Now we must discuss what I am to do with you.”
 
She clapped her hands.

In a blaze of light, Akira found he was no longer standing in the forest, but in a lofty hall with large
cherrywood
beams and shoji screens.
 
A servant woman entered, bearing a tray with a teapot steaming with fresh tea and warmed cups.
 
Another servant woman walked behind her, carrying a platter of cooked fish and rice cakes.

Akira stared at the women a moment then at Shigeko, who calmly sat at a low table on a cushion.
 
The servant women laid the trays down and put the bowls and platters of food on the table.
 
The woman who carried the tea set two cups on the table: one before Shigeko and the other across from her.
 
Shigeko looked up at him with a wry smile.

“Are you going to sheathe your blade, Stormhammer, or are you going to cut down my servants?”

Be careful,
warned Rokuro.

“If I had wanted to kill him, I could’ve done so already,” Shigeko said curtly.

Rokuro said nothing.

Akira looked around, bemused.
 
Seeing no other ninja, although suspecting they could appear at a moment’s notice, he slowly lowered the no-dachi and sheathed it.
 
“Shigeko-sama, I—”

“Do not address me thus,” said Shigeko, “for my family has not held a title for thousands of years.”

He nodded once.
 
“Then should I call you Shigeko-shonin or Shigeko-san?” he asked.
 
He stepped forward and waited.

“That will be fine,” she said.
 
“Please be seated, Takeshi-sama.
 
It appears our meeting was preordained.”
 
Akira sat down and waited while she took a sip of her tea.
 
She smiled ruefully.
 
“There is no poison.
 
If I had wanted to kill you—”

“You would’ve done so already,” Akira said, taking the cup and drinking from it.
 
The tea was flavorful, something he had never experienced before.
 
He smiled at her curious look.
 
“This is wonderful tea.
 
What is it?”

“It is called oolong.
 
The tea is semi-fermented,” Shigeko said.
 
“Or if you wish, we can have sake.”

“No, thank you,” Akira said quickly.

Shigeko smiled.
 
“A wise choice.
 
You wish to keep your wits about you; that the tea will do.
 
I am glad you like it.
 
It is somewhat rare.
 
We get this tea from the Neko who tend the tea fields.”

“Neko?
 
You mean as in Naotaka Kasumi Neko?”

“Yes,” she said.
 
“Even now she looks for you, if you are who you say you are.”

Akira cocked his head.
 
“How do you know about me?”

“Let me say the ninja have their ways,” Shigeko said.
 
“When my people first saw you, they thought you were a lost samurai, but much to their surprise, they could not dispatch you.
 
That is when they alerted me that a daring samurai with a naginata and no-dachi had eluded some of my best men.
 
I’ve watched you until now, and while you seem to be Takeshi Isao’s son who was captured by Tengu, I can’t verify it.”
 
She took some rice cakes and fish.
 
“Here, have some.
 
They are very good.”

“Thank you,” Akira said, taking some fish.
 
He ate slowly, watching Shigeko as he did so.
 
If the ninja shonin noticed, she didn’t show it.
 
Her flawless skin and black hair belied her older manner.
 
He wondered if she were part kami, as he was, for she could hear and use mindspeak as well as he could.

“You don’t believe I’m Takeshi Akira?” he asked.

“As much as I would like to believe it, there is no proof.”
 
She smiled.
 
“Unless you care to show me your Tengu powers.”

Be careful,
Rokuro warned, barely a whisper in his mind.

“I can’t,” Akira said a little too quickly.

Rokuro’s voice hissed displeasure in his mind.

“Why not?”
 
She leaned forward, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Akira paused.
 
He hadn’t meant to tell her this much.
 
He looked down at the fish he was eating and cursed himself for not having enough sense to be silent.
 
“I’m forbidden to.”

“Really?
 
Why is that?”

Akira shook his head.
 
He thought about lying to her, but with all the subterfuge and lies, he found himself wanting to speak the truth.
 
“The Tengu forbid it.
 
It’s part of my bargain.”

“Interesting,” Shigeko said.
 
She reached over and poured more tea.
 
“What bargain did you make?”

He laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“They let me return to the world of men.
 
That was my bargain,” he said.
 
“Only now it looks like that will end with me being killed by ninja.”

Shigeko laughed, bringing her sleeve up to her face.
 
“Is that what they’ve taught you?
 
That we invite you as a guest to dinner only to have you killed?”

You would if it suited you,
Rokuro said acidly.

Akira stared at Shigeko in horror as he saw her pleasant face turn hard.
 
“Silence your sword,” she said in a low growl.

Akira nodded.
 
“Please, Sensei...”

The boy cannot control me; I am still a creature of free will,
the sword spoke to her plainly.

“I see,” she said, a slight smile crossing her lips.
 
“Who is this sensei?”

“He was my
sensei
,” Akira said.
 
“The Tengu killed him.”