The Gatekeeper's Son (25 page)

I leaned back against a post and stared. It had been only a week since Shoko stole the journal—since she threw open the doors of my world and exposed me to what lay beyond. I suddenly felt so alone.

“This is where the gods stay when they come to visit.”

I turned to see a gray-haired man, shorter than me, wearing the uniform of a taxi driver. He was pointing to the little rooms at the top of the wooden bleachers.

“The gods?”

He nodded. “According to the ancient Shinto myth, all the kami—the earth spirits—gather for a month of festivities here at Izumo-taisha.” He smiled. “They hold meetings and decide what will happen to the earth in the next year. Perhaps it’s also a holiday for them, a chance for fellowship.” Then he pointed to the stack of sake barrels outside one of the buildings and grinned. “They drink, too.”

I eyed the benches. “Are they here now?”

The man shook his head. “No, the time of Kamiarizuki is in the autumn. They arrive from the sea.”

“You know a lot.”

“And you speak Japanese well for an American.” He chuckled. “It’s helpful in my duties as a taxi driver.”

“Do you think the shrine used to be higher off the ground, a long time ago?”

He pointed to a nondescript concrete building on the far side of the grounds. “Over there is a model and pictures of the huge posts they excavated here a few years ago. That leaves no doubt.”

I stared at the replica of three huge red posts tied together with a black metal band.

The man cleared his throat. “I must be getting back to my taxi.”

I turned and bowed low. “Thank you very much.”

He returned the gesture. “I hope the rest of your day is pleasant.”

I circled the shrine, but when I reached the back, far from the noise and negative energy of the tourists, I stopped. I felt something different here. It radiated from the shrine and crackled in the air like the hum of power lines. Entranced, I sat down cross-legged under a black pine and focused on the energy.

At first, it passed by me, like water washing over a stone, but ever so slowly my mind tuned in to its frequency. The energy brought serenity and peace, similar to the feeling Shoko gave me. But behind this energy was a force that rippled the air with its intensity. Like on that day outside Ghirardelli’s, energy rose inside me, too fast, filling me until I felt as if I would burst.

The world around me started to spin and everything went black.

CHAPTER

24

I lay in a meadow, lush and green and speckled with wildflowers. A large buck with huge antlers grazed not far away, along with two spotted fawns. Behind them, familiar mountains were outlined against the sky.

I must have gone across.

I waited for the dizziness and the headache, but nothing happened. After a minute I sat up and let the sun warm my body and the peaceful energy fill my soul.

The two fawns moved closer. I glanced at the buck. Our eyes met, and then he went back to grazing. Obviously, the gods didn’t eat venison.

I stood and took in a quick breath. In the distance, maybe four or five miles away, the Izumo shrine rose above the treetops, the same building from my dream. I couldn’t see the staircase, but I knew it would be there.

I started toward the shrine, drawn by the energy that radiated from it. At the meadow’s edge, I found a narrow trail meandering westward through a forest of pine trees. Raspberry and wild strawberry bushes lined the path, their branches heavy with fruit. I picked some and ate them as I walked. The sounds of birds’ wings flapping and the breeze blowing through pine needles were the only disturbance. The only messages here, emanating from every leaf and blade of grass, spoke of peace and tranquility. I wondered when the Gatekeepers would come.

The trail wound closer to the forest’s edge, and through the trees I saw a wide valley, lush and green, spread out below me. My brain told me it had to be the same river delta we’d traveled across on the train to Izumo, but here it was dotted with square fields of rice. Fruit trees and small vegetable gardens surrounded a scattering of huts with steep straw roofs. I saw people working and small children running in the fields. I sat down and stared at the valley, an overwhelming sense of awe growing with every moment. I was sure these people had problems—that was just the way things worked—but the energy that radiated from them was positive.

I caught a message, subtle but clear. Something was watching me—several somethings.

I heard a giggle and turned to see a group of children crouched in the forest, peeking at me from behind the trees. There were five or six of them, dirty little kids dressed in traditional clothing—they looked like extras in a samurai movie. One boy, about seven or eight, stepped forward. He had a small bow in his hand.

“Who are you?” he asked, his face serious.

“I’m Junya. What’s your name?”

“Taro.”

My eyes scanned the forest behind them. “Are you hunting?” There was no arrow notched on his bow.

He looked confused. “We are practicing shooting intruders.”

I nodded and stood up. “Did you find any?”

“Perhaps. Where are you going?”

“To the shrine. Is it far?”

He pointed with his bow. “It is that way, not far.” Then he looked me up and down. “You are not from here.”

I nodded. “No, I’m not. Are you gonna shoot me?”

“No. If you are bad, you will be dead soon enough.” With that, he turned and walked back into the trees, waving for his band to follow him.

About a half-hour later, I broke out of the forest and into another field of knee-high grass and wildflowers. I took about ten steps before my body went limp and I had to sit down. The shrine was just across the meadow, towering above the trees on thick red posts. Close by, a small house with a steep straw roof stood against the edge of the forested hills. It was the house I’d seen in my dream, with the girl watching from the doorway. I felt energy, something that made me turn and scan the forest.

The Gatekeepers were coming.

I stood up and waited. I wanted to see what Grandpa must have seen that first time.

There was a shimmering, like heat waves distorting the air and blurring the trees. Then figures began to materialize, three women down on one knee, their left palms pressed against the ground. They were beautiful, powerful, and their eyes shone with confidence. Their long black hair was tied in ponytails and topped with wide woven hats, peaked like low roofs. All were dressed in flowing green robes, the color of the underside of a leaf, the hems reaching just above the ground. Sleek muscular arms and legs showed through slits in the material. One woman looked older than Okaasan, but the other two were girls about the same age as Shoko. The older woman’s robe was tied with a wide golden band, the girls’ with plain braided belts. Each carried a katana.

At first they didn’t move. They stood like statues, blending into the forest. Then as one they came toward me, their steps light and graceful. One of the girls notched an arrow onto her long bow. The older woman’s hand went to the hilt of her katana.

I stood rooted to the earth, staring at her in amazement. I raised my hand. The older one was within a dozen feet. She faltered and fell to her knees, as if she’d hit an invisible wall. The other girls stopped, bewildered.

I studied the woman while she stared back at me. She was beautiful, but her heart was heavy, a burden that dragged down her every thought.

“You must be Tomi.”

She blinked twice and bowed, touching her head to the grass. The two girls dropped to the ground like stones and bowed as well, although I doubt they knew why.

Tomi looked up at me from the ground. “Are you … a god?”

I laughed. “I am Junya, Edward’s grandson.”

Tomi’s mouth dropped open and she stared wide-eyed as recognition dawned in her eyes.

“Yes … you have his features …” She collected herself. “How … Is Edward well? Did he find what he sought?”

“He’s rich and powerful.”

A soft breeze swept across the meadow.

“Did he tell you about me?”

I nodded. “He did.”

I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I was trying to gather the courage to ask
the
question, and that was harder than facing a drawn sword. I took a deep breath.

“Do you remember my mother, Misako?”

Tomi studied me awhile before she answered. When she did, her voice was different. “I remember her.”

“Is she a Gatekeeper?”

Tomi stood and brushed off her knees. “She left here before her final assignment. She can never be one of us.”

“She’s never been back?”

“It is forbidden … though she was never one to follow the rules.” Her lip curled. “I heard that she finished her assignment on the other side, where she was granted the ring.”

“What was my mother’s assignment?”

“Ask your mother why she
really
married your father.”

Something shifted deep inside me and turned cold. I felt as if I saw into her more clearly than I’d ever seen anyone. “You couldn’t go across to Edward if you wanted to. There’s no purity left in you.”

Her body jerked as if I’d struck her.

“If it’s your duty to kill me, you’d better get on with it,” I said. “You wouldn’t want to screw up twice, would you?”

She lurched forward, but again she faltered—and not because of me. We all froze as a warm wind, its sound like air through a flute, drifted across the meadow toward us.

“Let him pass, Gatekeeper.”
The voice came from the wind itself.
“Would he be here if we did not permit it?”

Tomi dropped flat onto the ground, her body pressed against the earth as if she were trying to avoid an inbound missile. I didn’t know what to do, so I just waited, glued to the spot.

It took a few minutes before Tomi raised her head, looking amazed. The two young girls, as if by some prearranged plan, ran away across the meadow toward the buildings in the shrine compound. I was about to follow them when Shoko’s energy reached me, stronger than ever before, and I turned to see her burst from the little house nearby. She ran toward us across the meadow in bare feet.

Shoko skidded to a stop beside Tomi, breathless. She pointed at me. “This is Junya.”

Tomi kept her eyes on the ground. “We have met.”

“I heard what happened.” Shoko led me into the meadow, away from Tomi. “My mother did not know the gods brought you here.”

I pointed toward the shrine. “I wanted to thank the gods for letting me see this. It’s wonderful.” But now all that peace was tainted.

Ask your mother why she
really
married your father.

Shoko laid her hand on my forearm. “Your energy is darting about like minnows in a pond,” she said in a low voice. “What troubles you?”

“Tomi just told me … She said my mom was … is …”

Her eyes narrowed. “She told you what?”

I took a step away from her and her hand dropped back to her side. That feeling of betrayal leaped back to the surface.

“She said Okaasan married my dad as part of her final assignment.”

“Why?”

“How would I know?” I stopped to suck air into my lungs. “What am I supposed to do with that little gem of information?”

“What do you want to do with it?”

“I don’t know. All this is so … premeditated.” I spread my arms as if they could gather it all together into some coherent explanation. “Part of me wishes this was just another dream. You were there—”

“I was in your dream?”

I paused.

She flashed me a mischievous smile. “Perhaps this is my dream and you are in it.” She wore a simple kimono, light and thin, tied with a single belt. She looked beautiful standing among the wildflowers.

While I stood there, awkward, she looked up at me. “Is your mother content?”

I shrugged. “I guess?”

“Does your father appear unhappy?”

“Not at all,” I said, “but he will be when he hears about this.”

She shook her head and sighed. “You say the stupidest things.”

“What!?”

“What does this matter if they are both happy?”

“Are you kidding? It’s another lie!”

“Answer the question.”