The Fox's God (17 page)

Chapter Twenty

Jien

“N
ot everybody looks good with a shaved head,” Jien told Aito. “I, of course, look amazingly handsome. You’re not bad either. I feel sorry for monks with lumpy heads. It’s like fate disapproves of their career choice, don’t you think?”

Aito blinked. That was as close to an answer as he was likely to give, so Jien took it as an agreement.

“Not everybody is this good at shaving either,” he added, surveying his handiwork. “I didn’t even nick you. Well, except here, but it doesn’t count because you twitched.” He rubbed Aito’s head to double check he hadn’t missed a spot. “Nice and smooth. Good job, me.”

He shaved his own head next, working blindly with the blade. He’d done it often enough to avoid slicing his skin open and bleeding everywhere, which was good because a monk with scars on his scalp looked plain incompetent.

“Aki and Yuki don’t realize how easy they have it,” he complained to Aito. “They hardly bother to cut their hair and when they do it’s a quick hack with a blade. Us monks, we have to shave every couple days because the fuzzy look is undignified.”

After a few swipes at the admittedly sparse hair growing on his chin, he put the blade down. “How do I look, Aito? Handsome and wise? Perfect. I have a meeting to attend.” Since he was presently the only conscious monk in the clan house, he would be expected to be there. Arriving clean-shaven was the least he could do. “I’ll be back later. Try not to drool on yourself, okay? That’s also undignified.”

It was a medium-size meeting, as far as such things went. Other than himself, there was the scribe, Hachiro, Akakiba, Yuki, and Kiba. Takashi and Inari stepped in last, settling at the head of the gathering. Everybody else was kneeing properly on their cushion, so Jien made the effort of copying them, even if sitting cross-legged was infinitely more comfortable.

Grandmother Naoko might or might not have been invited, but she was almost certainly lurking near. She reminded Jien too much of Sanae for his peace of mind.

“We have two problems,” Takashi said. “Firstly, a simple fire is too weak to melt steel. Secondly, Lady Inari predicts the destruction of the glyphs will lead to a devastating explosion.”

Energy tightly contained cannot be released without damage,
Inari murmured.

“Our best chance to destroy the Soul Eater and its copies is to locate an active volcano and throw the swords into molten lava. Grandmother Naoko has already located a promising one. It is unfortunately a certain distance away and the swords must be moved through the real world. We need a few volunteers to travel there to execute the plan. It will be dangerous.”

“I’ll go,” Akakiba said.

“I shall help,” Hachiro boomed.

“Three of us should be enough,” Yuki said.

Jien straightened in indignation. “What, you’re excluding me?”

“I thought you might prefer to stay and watch over Aito,” Yuki said.

Akakiba looked at him. “Feel free to come risk death by volcano, if you find the idea so attractive.”

Jien almost reconsidered. Maybe he didn’t really want to be near a volcano. “Great, it’s settled. Death by volcano for everyone.”

Clan leader Takashi tried to regain control of the discussion. “
As I said
, it will be dangerous. Lava can burn people as thoroughly as swords, and the explosions will hinder the retreat. It would be best if the sword could fall in only after everybody has moved to safety.”

An elaborate plan involving pulleys to move the sword up the mountain was being crafted when the scribe spoke up for the first time. “Excuse me. Is there any reason why explosives wouldn’t be adequate?”

Pause.

What do you mean by “explosives”?
Inari inquired.

“Substances that explode with great destructive force,” the scribe explained. “They are a relatively recent development. The emperor could import what we need from the Middle Kingdom, if needed.”

“That might take time,” Takashi said, “and we do not wish for others to learn of our plans.”

It was obvious he didn’t want the emperor to know they were back yet, for fear he would interfere to recover the swords. Even if the emperor had thought to have records made of the glyphs on the swords—not impossible—any new sword made would take years to reach potency. It would give them breathing room to get their strength back up, if nothing else.

Something clicked in the back of Jien’s mind. He straightened from his slouch. “Hey,
shinobi
use explosives! If Domi and Marin are still in Nara, we could ask her. She’s the old clan leader’s daughter, so she must know about the proper use of explosives.”

“We can travel there without having to bring the swords,” Yuki added. “And we can bring back the materials the same way.”

Jien hummed thoughtfully. “If we’re going to Nara, we should get Aito to the temple at the same time. Master Toshishiro would be the best to assist his recovery.”

“Lady Inari?” Takashi said.

If explosives are truly this potent, using them would shorten the time needed to conclude the matter. The volcano is weeks away.

“I humbly request your assistance in the matter, if you’re willing.”

I’m ready to depart.

They scrambled to prepare. Traveling was much easier when they could cheat on time and distance. They needed no supplies—they could obtain anything they needed in the city—other than coins. Of those, there would be no shortage. Akakiba was handed enough gold coins to convince even a
shinobi
to be helpful. Unlike smaller coins, gold ones didn’t have holes in the middle to be worn on a string. They came in purses instead, which might be concealed in the folds of clothing.

In what felt like mere moments, they were ready. Inari took Akakiba and Yuki through while Jien fetched Aito. Inari came for them next.

They landed on the road, disturbing carrion birds feasting on a dead, furry creature that might have been a raccoon dog. Jien promptly threw up, but Aito didn’t.

Akakiba and Yuki were waiting farther ahead, both looking as if they’d also expelled their latest meal on landing. This method of travel might be fast, but it was hard on the stomach.

“Come on Aito, let’s get you home,” Jien said once he’d recovered, tugging his colleague along. They could have carried him, but exercise must be good for him. “And tell your familiars to hide!” The three remaining spirits, still trapped under Aito’s skin, were sitting on his cheeks again, peering out at the world. They either did not understand Jien’s words or did not care to heed them, staying right where they were. With a sigh and a grumble, Jien adjusted the straw hat on Aito’s head to conceal them in shadows.

The four of them—Inari hadn’t stayed—passed through the gate, where one of the city guards mumbled something to his partner. Jien didn’t catch the words, but Akakiba must have because he turned to them and said, “Ah, so you remember us. Do you also remember the woman we confronted?”

The guard blinked, no doubt wondering how his low whisper had been overheard. “Ah, yes.”

“Have you seen her lately?”

This drew a dreamy sigh. “I have. I’d recognize those legs anywhere. She passed through this gate yesterday. She was with two monks, an oddly-dressed one and an old
sohei
with bushy white eyebrows. Didn’t see her leave the city since, though there’re other roads leading out of the city.”

“Thank you.”

They moved on. The old
sohei
could have been Toshishiro—his eyebrows were rather bushy—so he might know where Marin was. After a delay in front of the temple—the dragon on guard duty seemed to find Aito suspicious and wouldn’t stop sniffing him—they found Toshishiro. He wasn’t alone.

“Your stray made it here, Aito,” Toshishiro said dryly, a hand resting on the shoulder of a child Jien barely recognized as the tiny murderess they’d found in the far north. She was wearing the clothes of a trainee, her shaved head doing a fair job of making her look like a young boy, but the stratagem wouldn’t work past another year or two.

Aito looked at Toshishiro, attention drawn by the sound of his name, but did not answer.

“Aito was injured in battle,” Jien explained. “He was unconscious a while and he’s yet to start speaking again.”

Toshishiro pushed the straw hat off to study Aito’s face and the spirits crowding on it. “He lost the fourth one?”

“We think so.”

Toshishiro patted Aito’s cheek. “My poor boy. Come, sit here with me.”

Aito obeyed the pressure of hands on his shoulders rather than the words, but they got him to sit at the table with everybody else. A cup of tea was put in front of him.

“You have to put the cup in his hands or he won’t drink,” Jien pointed out. “You have to hold it steady for him too or he’ll dribble half on himself.”

“He needs to remember how to pick it up on his own. Let the aroma reach him.” Toshishiro’s next words were directed towards the little girl presently peering into Aito’s vacant eyes. “Look closely, child. This is the damage done by the loss of an invisible friend. Always be careful to protect yours.”

“We need to find Marin,” Akakiba cut in. “Do you know where she is at present?”

“What has she done now?”

“Nothing I know of. We hope she might have a degree of expertise in explosives. We need certain objects destroyed.”

“The three? Yes, perhaps that might work…” A faraway look entered the old monk’s eyes; they drank their tea and waited for his familiar spirit to investigate. “Marin and Domi are in their new home. Let us visit them, shall we?” He half-turned, reaching to steady the cup of tea in Aito’s hands. “Careful, boy, it’s hot.”

Aito successfully lifted the cup to his lips, tipping it to drink. Jien almost cheered aloud. Progress!

Toshishiro’s hand shot out, rescuing the empty cup as it slipped from Aito’s fingers. “Well done, boy. Now, I’m sure my new apprentice can keep my old one safe while we’re gone. Can’t you, child?”

The little girl snapped to attention, squaring her shoulders. “I will protect him with my life!”

Jien didn’t laugh, but it was a near thing. Yuki made a tiny choking noise, but nothing else. Akakiba had been born without a sense of humor, so his face didn’t change.

“Do your best,” Toshishiro said. “You know how to warn us if trouble comes.”

They left the temple grounds having exchanged one monk for another. Down the crowded streets they went, walking leisurely despite Akakiba’s attempt to speed up the pace; he ended up so far ahead he had to stop and wait for them to catch up. After that he seemed resigned to following Toshishiro’s pace.

“They’re not going to vanish before we get there,” Yuki said.

“
Shinobi
,” Akakiba said, as if that was an argument in itself. Maybe it was.

Jien’s attention was focused on the cruelly delicious smells wafting from every direction. He tugged on Akakiba’s sleeve and pointed at a street food cart. “Aki, buy me some.”

“Buy it yourself.”

“I’m out of money. You have plenty; feed me.”

“You’re shameless.”

“And hungry.” He was helping, wasn’t he? They could at least feed him.

In the end, everybody was treated to skewers of dumplings dipped in sauce. Jien was holding so many that sauce dripped on his fingers.

Akakiba gave him a judging look, but since he always did that, it hardly meant anything. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m a hero,” he said between two delicious bites. “I can be as disgusting as I want.”

Toshishiro led them to a clean-looking building not far from a busy street full of shops. “I better announce you,” he said. “I understand you haven’t always had friendly dealings.”

They waited outside while Toshishiro stepped inside calling, “Hello?”

He contemplated Akakiba’s shiny, perfect length of hair. Hmm.

“Jien,” Yuki said, “nobody is going to save you if you do that.”

He froze just short of depositing a sticky dumpling in Akakiba’s tied hair. Instead, he popped it into his mouth and studiously licked his fingers clean. Getting murdered wasn’t one of his life ambitions.

The door slid open revealing Domi. “Good morning, friends. Come in.”

“What, no servants?” Jien said. “Considering the size of the house…”

Domi grimaced. “Marin has two junior
shinobi
to order about. That’s enough.”

The house was smaller than it seemed at first because it was larger than it was deep. Marin sat coaxing the cooking pit’s ambers into a fresh fire. The two “junior
shinobi,
” whoever they were, weren’t in sight. They might have been hiding under the floorboards.

“What is it you want this time?” Marin asked, not even glancing at them. She sounded cranky, which might have had something to do with the burnt marks on the floor around the fire pit. A cooking mishap?

“Tea will take a moment,” Domi said. “Would you like sweets in the meantime?”

“We’ve just had dumplings,” Jien said quickly. “We’ll wait for tea.”

Hopefully they’d be done with their business before the water came to a boil. It was best not to accept
shinobi
-supplied food and drink unless you were absolutely sure they liked you too much to poison you. Marin had reasons to dislike them, what with the way they’d tricked her.

Considering he knew Marin and Domi much better than either Akakiba or Yuki, Jien appointed himself in charge of the discussion. “We need explosives,” he told Domi. “Would Marin know her clan’s recipes?”

Marin finally looked at them, all crankiness gone from her face and voice. “Explosives? Do you need a great deal of them?”

“Yes.”

Marin turned to stare at Domi. “They need explosives. You have to lift your ban.”

Domi groaned. “You know why I banned them. You set me on fire!”

“You were barely singed.”

“Yet you felt bad enough to give me your word you would stop playing with explosive substances.”

“This is not playing. This is important.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Domi, really. Think! It’s for the Soul Eaters.”

“It is,” Jien confirmed.

Domi’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Only this once!”

“Wonderful!” Smoothing the excitement away from her expression, Marin eyed her three visitors. “I can provide as big an explosion as you need, but the ingredients are expensive.”

Akakiba pulled out a bag of gold and tossed it to her.

“Done,” Marin said. “What do you need? Big, or very big?”

Jien thought it over. “The sword must be sufficiently damaged. I’m not certain what that means in terms in explosives.”

“Bigger is better, in any case,” Marin said.

“Is there anything we can assist with?” Akakiba inquired.

“Begin by swearing on your honor not to spy on my work with your ghostly friends. These recipes are mine.”

They swore; they didn’t want those recipes anyway. Life was difficult enough without explosives growing more widely used.

“I have a question, if I may,” Yuki said. “If your clan possessed such recipes, why didn’t they use any explosives against the Fox clan?”

“Ha.
Someone
miscalculated when they tried to kill me. The clans are very secretive of these recipes, for fear their rivals will steal them. I was the one in charge of ours and I shared with no one. When I left, the stores held nothing fancier than smoke bombs.”

Jien could have done without knowing that. The fight had been terrible enough as it was; he didn’t want to wonder what explosives would have done to the situation.

Marin chewed her lower lip. “It may take a few days to gather what I need. Don’t go far.”