Samurai Son (48 page)

Chapter Ninety-One

Akira frowned as he saw the line of the warship come into view.
 
It moved faster than he expected, and he wondered if perhaps Nanashi was using magic to speed it.
 
The captain shouted orders to the crew, and men rushed around, setting the rigging for maximum speed.
 
Both Akira and Kasumi moved out of the way so the sailors could do their jobs.

“Akira!
 
Do something!” Kasumi pleaded.

Akira frowned.
 
The wind kami were fickle at best even when responding to the Tengu magic.
 
He couldn’t use that magic—not now, not when they were so close.
 
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the winds around him.
 
Sea Winds!
he shouted in mindspeak.
 
Sea Winds!
 
I beg a favor of you!

The wind kami wrapped around him, filling his nostrils and mouth with the briny scent and taste of the sea.
 
Stormhammer?
the wind said.
 
Is this the Tengu who denies his heritage?

I am Stormhammer,
Akira admitted.
 
But I will not use my magic.
 
I ask you to fill our sails to take us away from this battle.

The Sea Wind laughed, but it was not a comforting sound to Akira’s ears.
 
There is another who has control over me,
the wind said.
 
Should you use your Tengu powers; that would release me.
 
Otherwise I must heed the demon call.

Akira opened his eyes to watch as the wind kami left him the junk’s sails went slack.
 
The sailors cursed and shouted.

“Do something!” said the captain.
 
“If you have any magic, use it now!”

“Akira?” Kasumi asked.
 
He turned to her to see her eyes wide with unspoken fear.

“Get ready,” he said.
 
“We may have to fight our way out of this.”

The warship drew close enough to where Akira could see the men aboard.
 
It was a huge battleship with four sails and soldiers along the gunwales.
 
It had been painted or pitched black with crimson sails and dark flags depicting oni.
 
At that moment, Akira heard a scream overhead.
 
He looked up.

The hawk had returned, and with it danced several wind kami.
 
It circled and dipped a wing toward the masts, and the wind kami leaped into the junk’s sails and filled them at once.
 
The ship lurched forward and, with supernatural speed, put distance between itself and the warship.

The junk’s sailors cheered, and the captain grinned.
 
“Good job, Takeshi-sama!”
 
She went back to the stern as they all watched the warship grow smaller in the distance.

Kasumi hugged him.
 
“That was amazing.
 
I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t,” Akira said.
 
“It was the hawk.
 
It must be a Taka-Tengu, but why it has chosen to help me, I don’t know.”

Kasumi looked up.
 
“Hawk?
 
I haven’t seen the hawk since it flew west.”

Akira looked up again.
 
The hawk was gone.

#

Hiroshi watched from high on the stern, sitting against the aft mast and watching as the sails filled with wind.
 
He had seen Akira try to convince the Sea Winds to fill their sails to no avail.
 
But he had also seen the Taka-Tengu bring the wind kami.
 
The wind had called Akira by his Tengu name, Stormhammer.

The sailors moved around him as though he didn’t exist, and in a way, he was invisible to them.
 
The simple ninja spells confounded most people, although they were difficult to use against those with kami blood or trained in the secrets of energy and the martial arts.
 
He had tried the concealment magic around Akira and Kasumi and noticed that it seemed to work with them only if they were distracted.
 
But then, he couldn’t really be certain it worked.
 
Akira and Kasumi could see him if they were looking for him.
 
Perhaps to them, the magic was no more than a suggestion.

Hiroshi had been ready to kill Nanashi’s samurai but was glad the junk had escaped the warship.
 
A skilled ninja such as he might survive the encounter and slip onto the warship, but that would not help if Nanashi had indeed opened the
Kimon.
 
As the junk sailed toward the hidden harbor, Hiroshi pondered their next step.
 
Kasumi was right when she said he had not been on the island.
 
He wondered how they would get through to the Neko city or if there would be a city after the battle.

He wondered, too, where his loyalties lay.
 
His orders were clear enough—kill Akira and Kasumi—but he had been too intrigued with the danger to the demon gate to act upon those orders.
 
Not that Akira had given Hiroshi many chances to kill him and make his escape.
 
He told himself that if he had killed Akira on Tsuitori that Takeshi would suspect him and he would be captured and put to death.
 
The ship was not much better, and Akira had that magical no-dachi that seemed to alert him whenever Hiroshi lurked nearby.

He sighed, his mind torn between duty and curiosity.
 
The Neko were as secretive as the Shinobi.
 
No ninja had ever entered the inner walls of Neko-tori, the inner city of the Neko.
 
The temptation to see this city was too great.
 
He would deal with Akira and Kasumi soon enough, he told himself.
 
Part of being a ninja was patience.

#

The junk entered the hidden port on the northwestern side of the island at sunset.
 
Kasumi had directed the steersman into the cove safely, and they now stared at the sharp cliff walls that lined this part of the island.
 
The dark rock face seemed impenetrable to Akira.
 
Covered in vines, moss, and other vegetation, it rose hundreds of feet above them.
 
Here and there, waterfall trickles ran down the slate gray rock.
 
The air was fragrant with flowers Akira had no name for.

The cove hid in shadows when they entered, and the crew lit oil lamps so they could see.
 
The wind kami left them, and the crew grabbed poles and long oars to move the ship through the placid water.
 
There was no shallow water here and no apparent place to disembark.
 
Akira wondered if Kasumi had remembered the place correctly.

Kasumi snuffed the breeze.
 
“The entrance to the secret passage lies along that rock face,” she said, pointing to the ominous cliff ahead.

“There’s no way we can get close enough to it without dashing the ship against it,” said the captain.
 
“Are you sure there’s even a passage there, Neko-sama?”

“Quite sure but I’ve been through it only once.”
 
Kasumi stared at the rock wall with the characteristic expression that told Akira she was sniffing for the entrance.

“We’ll have to wait for high tide.”
 
Hiroshi appeared beside them.

Kasumi’s nose wrinkled and her eyes narrowed.
 
“What do you know of our island?” she growled.

Hiroshi pointed to a place that looked ten feet above the water.
 
“There’s a variation in the rock in that spot.
 
If you look closely, you can see a small ledge.”

Akira, somewhat chagrined, studied the place Hiroshi pointed to.
 
Even with his superior Tengu sight, he hadn’t noticed the subtle differences in the rock.
 
Now, looking at it, he could see the retainer’s point.
 
He has better powers of observation than you do,
Windspirit said reproachfully.
 
Maybe if you weren’t so enamored with the Neko…

“I see what you mean,” Akira said.
 
“But I’m not sure the captain will be willing to wait that long.”

“We can’t stay here,” the captain replied.
 
“The cove is almost too small for us as it is.
 
When the tide comes in, it’ll shove us up against those walls.”

“We’ll have to use the skiff,” Akira said.
 
“It’s the only way we’ll be able to get to it.”

“Agreed,” said the captain.
 
“And I’ve agreed to take you here to Neko-shima, which I’ve done.
 
I’m willing to part with a skiff to keep my end of the bargain, but I’m not willing to stay in this cursed place any longer than I have to.”

Chapter Ninety-Two

Akira watched as the junk moved slowly out of the cove, being propelled by poles and long oars.
 
His throat clenched as he watched their only means of escape slowly drift away.
 
The skiff bobbed up and down as the junk sent waves, combined with the normal flow of the sea, against the small boat.
 
Akira looked askance and saw Kasumi bite her lower lip as she, too, gazed after the retreating ship.
 
Somehow, with that single act, Akira knew he was committed, for good or ill.
 
Yet with that choice, he felt freer than he ever had.

This is what it means to be samurai,
Windspirit said.

He took Kasumi’s hand and gripped it, feeling the warmth of her skin.
 
Her hands were calloused, as his were, from years of training with the sword, staff, and empty-handed combat.
 
She was samurai, same as he, yet they were so much more.
 
He was human, yes, but Tengu as well, just as Kasumi was both Neko and human.
 
Somehow, she had come to terms with her Neko and human sides.
 
Perhaps he could learn from her how to accept his human and Tengu mix.
 
Maybe they weren’t mutually exclusive.
 
Maybe he could just accept what he was.

Being samurai is not necessarily a human trait,
Windspirit said.
 
It is often said that the sword is the soul of the samurai.

No truer words were spoken,
Akira agreed.
 
For if there is anyone who is truly samurai, it is you, Sensei.

Windspirit said nothing but Akira had the distinct impression the sword was pleased.

“Do we wait now?” Kasumi murmured.
 
“I don’t know when the next tide is.”

“We’re at the peak of low tide,” Hiroshi spoke up, the first time since they had left the junk.
 
“It’ll take hours for it to rise to high tide again.
 
I’d much rather climb and see what we can do to get into the passage.”

Akira looked up at the rock face.
 
He couldn’t see the variation of rock color on the sheer cliff that Hiroshi had pointed out to him earlier.
 
He wondered if they had indeed imagined it, but if Kasumi said the entrance was here, it had to be.
 
He glanced at Hiroshi.
 
“I don’t think we can climb it.”

“I can,” Hiroshi said.
 
With that, he stood up, and much to Akira’s surprise, the boat hardly rocked at all.
 
He slid something that looked like talons onto his hands and, with a sudden leap, launched himself from the boat and clung to the rock wall.

He’s wearing shuko and ashiko,
the sword said.
 
The ninja use those.

Akira swallowed hard.
 
If the man was ninja, the chances that he took Shigeko’s commands were good.
 
In which case, he would most likely have orders to kill them both.
 
Still, Hiroshi hadn’t attempted to kill anyone, although he seemed to have the ability to make himself scarce.

Hiroshi scuttled up the rock wall nimbly until he stepped on the shelf.
 
To Akira’s surprise, the shelf was bigger than it appeared, wide enough for a man to stand comfortably on and long enough to allow more than one person.
 
Hiroshi peered over the ledge.

“There’s a lock here I don’t think I can open, but maybe Kasumi can,” he said.

Kasumi looked up.
 
“I can’t climb that.”

“Don’t worry; I can get you up.”
 
With that, he produced a tiny ladder of rope and wood, about as wide as a foot instep.
 
At the top was a nail where the two pieces of rope joined.
 
Hiroshi scrambled halfway down the rock face and, with a small hammer, nailed the odd ladder into the rock.
 
He did the same with another one about a shoulder width away from the first one and a bit staggered.
 
He yanked on them and nodded.
 
“They’ll hold.”
 
He scrambled down the rock a little farther.
 
“Give me your hand, and I’ll hoist you up.
 
Stick your foot in the ladder rungs.”

Kasumi glanced at Akira, who slowly nodded.
 
“I’ll lift you up,” he said.
 
“I can probably get up there by myself.”

Kasumi stood up, causing the skiff to rock from side to side.
 
Akira stood up too, trying to help her balance.
 
She growled under her breath, so only Akira could hear her as he took her in his arms.
 
“I could jump this as a cat.”

“But could you climb the wall?” Akira said softly.
 
“Don’t worry.
 
I’ll catch you if you fall.
 
I’ll be right behind you.”

“I don’t trust him,” she whispered back.

“I don’t either but I think we’re fairly safe at the moment.
 
There’s no other way he can get off the island if we’re both dead.”

Kasumi nodded and let him hold her.
 
She was light in his arms as he lifted her by her waist.
 
The skiff rolled back and forth dangerously, and Akira felt Kasumi tighten in his arms then spring.

Kasumi launched herself toward Hiroshi.
 
Hiroshi swung out and, whether by some supernatural skill or luck, grasped her arm and hauled her up, hooking the shuko claws into her armor along her forearm.
 
Kasumi swung wildly, clutched one of the ladders with her free hand, and swung her feet up.
 
At that same moment, Akira’s skiff capsized from the movement, tossing him into the sea.