The Night Parade (8 page)

“You can't leave. Not now. Not ever.”

Saki slammed her body against the door. The soft, old wood buckled, and the door burst from the latch. She squeezed through the opening, splinters and jagged edges catching on her clothes, and pulled herself out onto the dirt path. The faceless man's hands groped through the shattered door, but his shoulders were too wide to follow her through the narrow hole.

Saki's feet pounded the ground. She ran through the woods, past the trees, through the underbrush. She ran until she was out of breath, until her muscles ached. There was no path, no light. Everything was shadows, darkness, and the bitter taste of fear. The moon watched her through the breaks between the leaves. Maybe, just maybe, she was close enough to a phone signal to call for help.

Saki slowed and ducked behind a tree, her breath coming in gasps. She pulled her phone from her pocket, but the electric glow of the screen distorted the shape of the forest. Curves and bends grew larger and smaller, and the texture of the plants twisted and warped. The reception fizzled in and out. Strange icons that she'd never seen before flickered on the screen.

Hair stood up on the back of her neck. She raised her eyes from the phone to the darkness beyond the wood. The old woman stood between a pair of trees, watching her with hateful eyes.

“What are you doing?” the old woman shrieked.

“I-I just needed to find…” Saki stammered and held the phone to her chest.

“Put it away! Put that wretched thing away! I can't stand the smell of it!”

Saki shoved the phone back into her pocket. The flattened marbles she'd stashed away clicked from the sudden movement. The old woman narrowed her eyes and inhaled through her nose.

“What have you got there, dear?” The old woman came closer.

Saki took a step back. “Nothing…”

“You looked in my little chest, didn't you? Even after I asked you nicely, you still disobeyed me. That makes Grandmother very unhappy.”

Saki took a step back and scraped her legs on the bark of the tree. The fear twisted into anger. “You're not my grandmother! You're a creepy old witch!”

Saki pivoted to run the other way, but the faceless man stood blocking her other side.

Behind her, the old woman smiled. The grin curled up to the tips of her ears. “Now dear, there's no reason to fuss. Come back inside, and I'll make a nice little meal…”

The old woman took a step forward. In the moonlight through the canopy, the sleeves of her yukata began to smolder. With a pained cry, the witch burst into blue flames, and the smooth voice of the faceless man cracked and rose to join her screams.

From out of the dark woods, the fox with her four rippling tails bounded up to Saki's side.

“Quickly,” the fox barked. “The foxfire illusion won't last. Follow me!”

Saki's legs were frozen. She tried to move, to scream. The soft muzzle of the fox brushed her hand, and a sharp tooth pricked her little finger. Saki gasped in pain and came back to her senses. The fox bounded away between the trees, and Saki followed as fast as her legs would take her.

The fox's voice carried through the wood. “Did you find it?”

Saki fumbled for the pouch tucked in her pocket. “I think so!”

“Use it on the creatures behind us!”

“How?” Saki would have asked more, but the sprinting cost her all her breath. Somehow, she didn't think the witch and the monster were going to stop trying to eat them to play a game of marbles.

“Just throw one! The magic knows what to do,” said the fox. “Hurry! And don't look back!”

With utmost care not to spill the pouch while she ran, Saki picked out a single marble and held it between her fingertips. Against the fox's orders, she turned her head over her shoulder.

The old woman's jaw had disconnected from her face, dangling by two thin strips of flesh at each ear. The faceless man hurried behind her, clawing at the air. Saki nearly stumbled but caught herself just in time to toss the flat marble back.

The glass hit the ground and started to inflate. The firm glass of its surface softened into liquid, like a trembling soap bubble. The mountain witch and the faceless man ran headlong into the trap as the barrier absorbed them with a thick sucking noise. Inside the gigantic bubble, their movements slowed, and their feet floated above the ground. As they drifted to the center, another quiver shook the sphere. The soft walls had hardened back into glass.

Saki's muscles throbbed as she followed the fox through the winding forest paths. After tromping through the woods long enough for the frantic pace of her heart to slow, they came upon a narrow trail. The fox veered left at every branch.

As Saki batted leaves away from her face, out of the corner of her eye she caught glimpses of a building, shining as though lit from within. But whenever she turned to stare, the image disappeared into shadows. If she made sure not to turn her eyes and keep the wall only in her peripheral vision, she could tell that the structure stretched taller than the trees. They wouldn't be able to get over, even if they could see it clearly. The fox must have been leading them around.

Saki quickened her pace and gave up on stealing glimpses of the phantom walls. “Are we going back to the main road or is this some kind of shortcut?”

The fox sniffed the air. “We're through with the Pilgrim's Road. Right now, I'm searching for a gap in the wall to sneak inside.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea? We just got in a lot of trouble at the gate.”

“
You
did, you mean.”

“Maybe we should just go back. I can't take much more of this.” Saki's nerves were still jumping from their last two narrow escapes. Now they were going to sneak in?

“How do you suppose you'll lift the curse without visiting the shrine?” the fox asked, moving faster. “Don't be stupid.”

Saki struggled to keep her footing in the dark. “You said this Night Parade goes for three days. Why don't we try again tomorrow?”

“Don't tire yourself with worry. As long as you have those marbles, the guards won't even notice us.” The fox winked and left the matter at that.

Saki dipped her hand into her pocket and pressed her fingertips against the pouch of flat glass marbles to reassure herself they were still there.

They rounded another leg of the path, and the fox stopped in her tracks. “Ah, here we are.” She put her nose to the ground and took a deep sniff.

Saki smelled the air. There was the heaviness of earth, the sticky summer humidity, and the sweet aroma of tree leaves. All normal forest smells, nothing remarkable about them. Only on her third or fourth breath did she pick up on the acrid base note settled over the wood.

“The grove is a short way up. The wall should be easiest to break through there.” The fox continued down the path, her ears perked in alert. “The spirits of the trees are old in the grove. They confuse the barriers of inside and outside. That's where we can slip in.” The fox walked for a few more minutes before breaking from the path and heading straight through the trees. “We'll need to get as close to the wall as possible. Take out the marbles.”

“I don't see a wall. It's just trees.”

“Of course you don't. Humans are so—” The fox broke off with a short growl. “Never mind. Just do as I say. Everything will be fine.”

Saki readied one of the glass pieces in her hand.

“Now listen,” the fox instructed. “On my count, take the marble and throw it straight in front of you. Eye level. Do you understand?”

Saki nodded, though she didn't really. She felt a little stupid winding up to throw a marble at a wall she wasn't even sure was there, but the fox seemed to have some sort of plan.

“Three…two…”

Saki blinked in the middle of the countdown. As her eyelids were about to shut, the high stone wall rose directly in front of her. She snapped her eyes open again, but the image was gone.

“Now!”

Saki lobbed the marble forward. Halfway through its arc, it smacked into a point in the darkness two feet from the ground and dissolved into the black. A ripple spread through the air where it had hit. Out of nothing, the wall shifted into view. Made of old, dark stone, it stretched so high above their heads that the top blocked out the moon and the stars. Only a single blemish marred the smooth stone, a small hole hewn into the rocks, big enough for a fox or a girl to fit through.

A flame of blue fire flickered in the fox's yellow eyes. “Wonderfully done! I'll slip in first to make sure the way is clear. Wait for me back on the path.”

Without pausing for a reply, the fox dove through the wall and disappeared. Saki tiptoed to the mouth of the hole and squinted. A tiny point of light in the distance wavered near the end of the tunnel. She touched the dark stone with wary fingers. How much would it hurt to run into an invisible wall? Given the rest of the strange things she'd seen that night, she'd probably have kept on walking through the trees without ever knowing it was there.

Saki wandered back to the dirt path to wait. The night was darker without her guide's ethereal glow. A branch from one of the trees in the grove—a sakaki tree—brushed Saki's arm. She had been here before, she realized, when she'd trudged up the mountain to get a branch for the Welcome Fire. She'd ended up cutting corners on that too, as she'd done with the purifying water at the gate. Maybe she was just getting what she deserved. Saki shook her head, but the thought lurked in the back of her mind, a needling, uninvited guest.

A warm glow pulsed at Saki's back, and she nearly jumped out of her own skin. At the base of one of the healthy sakaki trees sat a little child with roots curling out the end of its toes and a crown of leaves threaded through its hair. It looked up at Saki with a curious frown.

“You remember us, don't you?” The tree spirit stood up, little more than half Saki's height. “Have you come to stay a while?”

Saki struggled to find her voice. “Sorry, no. I'm just passing through… I'm looking for something, actually. I won't bother you for long.”

The little spirit averted its gaze. “Oh. That's too bad. You must be very busy. You were busy last time too.”

“Yeah, I'm sorry about that.” Saki rubbed her sweaty palms on her legs. “But I have to wait for someone, so I'm not going
right
away…”

The spirit smiled. “That's good. We wanted to spend time with you the last time you came, but you left in such an awful hurry.”

Saki scratched the bug bites she'd gotten that morning as the color rose to her cheeks. If they'd been watching her the whole time, they'd have heard all the ridiculous things she'd said. “I had an errand to run.”

“Here.” The little spirit held out a hand. “Come this way. I want to introduce you to my cousins. Most of them are older than I am, but we all love to have visitors.”

Another little tree spirit, taller than the first, stepped out from behind its tree. “Most people only stop at the shrine, if they even come at all,” the second voice chimed in.

From all the corners of the wood, tree spirits poked out their heads to watch the human girl. Some of them laughed, some blushed, but all seemed excited to wake up to a new face. One of the tallest spirits, nearly Saki's height, held out a closed hand as if cradling a precious treasure.

“I have something for you. I've been saving this all summer. I kept it up at the top of my branches where nothing could reach it. I wanted to give it to someone special, and you're the first human we've seen in such a long, long time… Here, please take it.”

Saki cupped her palms together and received a short branch covered in tiny white blossoms. The sweet scent of the flowers wafted up and filled the air with soft memories of spring.

“For me? Wow…thank you.” Saki's smile was slow to bloom, but when she looked up to put the branch behind her ear, she saw it mirrored on the faces of every spirit in the grove. They were only flowers, but the sincerity of the smiles made them feel like so much more. The tall spirit clapped its hands together in delight, and for the first time since Saki began her journey, the trouble seemed worth it.

The spirits led her farther into their grove, but Saki made sure to keep track of where the road had been in case she heard the fox return. The spirits took her past a bank of older trees. Once more, a decaying stink polluted the air.

“What's that smell?” Saki cupped a hand over her nose.

The spirits exchanged glances and frowned. The first spirit she'd met pointed to the border of the grove. Through the shadows, the outline of a fallen tree jutted out against the vibrant landscape. All the soft colors of the evening stopped at the perimeter, and as with all of the trees, the fallen tree was much larger than it had seemed in the daytime. Though the form was obscured by darkness, Saki could see well enough to glimpse the writhing, twisting shapes that wove in and out of the decaying wood. The smell turned bitter, and Saki retreated a few paces back into the living grove. An uneasy guilt twisted in her stomach.

“I should go back to the path and wait. I need to meet someone…”

A burst of foxfire flared through the trees near the path. The soft light of the moon darkened, and the sky near the walls filled with great pillars of smoke. Saki narrowed her eyes for a better look. The plumes morphed and reshaped, spreading and sinking closer to the ground. The shape drew closer, and she realized the sky wasn't filled with smoke but with hundreds of beating wings. Vibrations shook the trees and the earth beneath her. One by one, the tree spirits disappeared into the safety of their roots.

Saki's eyes were fixed on the swarming sky when fox fur brushed against her leg. The she-fox's tails all stood at attention. Her ears were pushed back flat against her head. She bared her sharp teeth, and her inky black lips curled. Clenched tight in her jaws was an old metal key with a long tassel. She lifted her slitted eyes to the cloud of wings buzzing above them and growled.

“What are those things?” Panic crept into Saki's voice. She shielded her head with her hands and bent low to keep out of sight. “They won't follow us into the shrine, right? Let's hurry! Show me the way.”

The fox turned and backed farther away from the wall. “Bad news.” The key in her mouth distorted the words. Everything came out sharper and colder than before. “Those are insect soldiers. They
came
from the shrine. They certainly won't be letting us back in.”

“But you've got a key there. That means there's a door somewhere, right?”

The fox spun and faced the girl. Her teeth were still bared, the key clenched between them. A cold sweat ran down Saki's back.

“This key isn't for you,” the fox growled. “Humans are always so selfish. Why can't I do something for myself for once? I'm stuck with this task every time one of you bumbles around with the summoning as if it's some sort of game. I'm through with it! Now at least I have compensation for all of my unpaid service.” She turned and bounded away in the direction opposite the swarm. Her strides were long and purposeful. Saki took off after the swishing tails, the only beacons of light in the moonless dark.

“Hey!” Saki called, her words half-stolen by the wind. “Hey! Don't accuse me of being selfish! You made me use one of my marbles because you said it would help me lift the curse!”

“I never said that,” the fox retorted. “You assumed that. Besides, those marbles don't really belong to you. You stole them from the mountain witch.”

“You told me to!”

They were sprinting together down the side of the mountain. Gravity helped Saki's tired legs keep going, but the fox seemed to float, unaffected by any law of nature.

“It's…not…fair!” Saki gasped out the words. She couldn't afford any more breaths to argue her point.

The fox barked in laughter. “Fair? Why are humans so concerned with fair? If you didn't need my help, there would be nothing stopping you from slitting my throat and placing my pelt up on your wall as a trophy.”

Saki had only enough energy to keep her legs pumping down the path. There was no room left for argument or to insist that fur was garishly out of fashion, so the point lingered in the air as Saki gasped for breath.

They pushed through an overgrown patch of shrubs. The sharp blades cut at Saki's legs and arms, stinging as they passed. The fox took a hairpin turn that dropped them back onto the main road. The number of spirits had grown tenfold, and Saki was forced to push against the flow of traffic as the nimble fox leapt farther and farther away.

Saki bumped against spirits of every shape and size. Sharp-elbowed spirits left smarting pains on her arms, wet spirits slicked her skin with ooze, and some spirits she went through altogether, though they stopped for a moment to give her a scandalized look before continuing onward. The tide never ceased. A dizzying number of creatures marched along the road without an end in sight.

Saki's legs were weak from running, and she could hardly breathe stuck in the middle of the crowd. A lion-headed beast pushed her to the ground with its furry haunches. She tried to scramble to her feet again, but after pushing her body to its limit, the muscles in her legs went as limp as a wet piece of paper. A band of visiting tree spirits gave her a disdainful look as they filed by with little sacks of earth slung over their backs. Long, spindly legs from another spirit headed right for her. They were connected to a tiny body the size of Saki's head, and the sharp tips speared the earth with a whisper like a sword being sheathed. The spider spirit fixed her hundred eyes on the girl and thrashed her mighty jaws as each leg brought her body closer.

A firm presence lifted Saki up from behind and hoisted her over the crowd. The spider spirit turned its eyes to watch and brushed a hairy leg against Saki's geta sandals, but the flow of the procession kept it marching with the rest. Saki turned to see the ogre with the broken horn holding her up, one spike of his club hooked on the back of her nightshirt. His face was set in the same yellow-toothed grimace, but he set her down next to him on the side of the road with a gentle plop. When she was safe, he turned back to watch the procession.

“Thanks…” The breathless word brushed her lips. She turned her eyes to the sky, but the swarm was nowhere to be found. Nor, for that matter, was the fox. She was exhausted and lost, but at least she was no longer alone.