Yatagarasu Series
Volume 6:
The Raven's Flourishing
Author: Abe Chisato
Part 1: Opening the Gate
Once upon a time, there was a long rainy season and all the crops were ruined. The villagers wanted the sun to come out. As they wallowed in despair, a raven came to speak to them.
“If you will give me food, I’ll ask the mountain god to make it sunny.”
When the villagers did this, the sky cleared up. From then on, whenever they wanted it to be sunny, they asked the raven, the messenger of the mountain god. But after a while, the bird grew too fat to fly and fell into the Dragon Marsh.
Seeing that, the monkey burst out laughing and said, “If you’ll give food to me instead of the raven, I’ll ask the mountain god to make it sunny for you.”
Sure enough, the sky cleared up, so the villagers asked the monkey, the messenger of the mountain god, whenever they wanted it to be sunny. The monkey grew too fat and fell out of a tree.
Watching that, the raven burst out laughing.
The raven and the monkey learned that being greedy was not a good thing. They swore to share their duty with one another from then on. The villagers began making offerings to both the raven and the monkey whenever they wanted a sunny day.
-“The Story of the Raven and the Monkey, the Mountain God’s Messengers,” excerpted from Recorded Local Legends
iyasaka:
NOUN
To prosper more and more; to flourish; a word spoken in prayer for prosperity.
The pale light of early spring cast a white shadow on the textbook spread out on Yukichi’s writing desk.
“Yukichi!”
Yukichi raised his face and stretched extravagantly. His eyes had been following the tiny letters for so long that they stung. He reached out and opened the screen door, letting in the cool breeze.
Cherry blossoms were in bloom in the garden outside the house. The pale petals gleamed in the sunshine. Most of the blossoms hadn’t fallen yet. The shade they cast was faintly pink. Wild cherry trees were taller and hardier than the carefully manicured dwarf specimens in the garden.
Yukichi inhaled deeply. The air was scented like a noblewoman’s face powder, lovely and yet restrained.
In a scant handful of days, Yukichi would enter the Keisōin, following in the footsteps of his famous uncle and older brother. He’d received his acceptance letter some time ago and was spending time studying in the Lord of Hokke’s city residence. He trained with warriors sworn to the Lord of Hokke in the morning and pored over Yukiya’s textbooks and notes in the afternoon.
Yukiya’s textbooks were nearly pristine. Yukichi knew that his brother’s habits didn’t make him particularly fastidious regarding books. It was likely that Yukiya had only opened them once or twice during his time at the Keisōin. Yukiya often said that he only needed to read something a few times to memorize it.
Yukichi heard footsteps. He sat up straight.
“Yukichi, are you there?” Kiei asked. He was the Lord of Hokke’s grandson and heir. He’d invited Yukichi to study here before he went to the Keisōin.
Yukichi followed Kiei’s voice out into the courtyard near the estate’s front gate. Kiei was surrounded by people, including Yukiya.
“Yukiya!”
“Yukichi! How goes the studying?” Yukiya asked, smiling. He was five years older than Yukichi. He’d always been relaxed and easygoing, but since his graduation from the Keisōin, he’d become a bit more serious and unapproachable. His height had shot up overnight; he’d spent his childhood shorter than everyone. Seeing him so tall was still disorienting to Yukichi. His thick, dark brown hair was tied back. He wore only his jet-black feather robe and a finely made long sword decorated with gold on the hilt. He was so grown up and dignified that sometimes Yukichi thought he looked like a stranger.
“Hey, Yukichi!” Shigemaru called out. He waved. He was as tall as Yukiya and very muscular. Before Yukiya’s growth spurt, Shigemaru and Yukiya had been called Bear and Cub respectively because of the obvious difference in their sizes. Shigemaru’s charming button nose and round, black eyes made him appear kind. Yukichi had always liked him.
“The recommendation from the Keisōin’s new Commandant, Shōreikai, has been accepted. Your big brother is going to become the strategy instructor at the Keisōin.”
“Really?!”
Only the greatest military strategist in all of Yamauchi was permitted to teach strategy at the Keisōin. Past instructors had been generals and military commanders with years of experience serving in the Aerial Army of Heaven or the Imperial Army. Yukiya was a member of the Yamauchishu—the Imperial Guards—but he’d never formally served in any army. His skill in his current post had brought attention to his tactical acumen, leading to the Keisōin’s Commandant giving his recommendation to bring him in to teach.
The Keisōin’s strategy instructor was not a figurehead role without power. In times of emergency, Yukiya could be appointed as a highly ranked staff officer for the entire army, overseeing and commanding the strategists of both the Yamauchishu and the Aerial Army of Heaven.
Disagreements between military strategists were somewhat common, so it was important for there to be a clear chain of command. General Genya, Lord of Hokke, was Yukiya’s grandfather, which loaned Yukiya some legitimacy as a leader despite his youth. Yukiya’s appointment as the Keisōin’s strategy instructor would relieve some of the tension that had existed between the Yamauchishu and the Aerial Army of Heaven since the start of the Emperor’s reign.
“Let me congratulate you again,” Kiei said. “Our current liaison isn’t good at taking all perspectives into account. I’m proud that Yukiya will be taking his place. I’m sure he’ll do us all proud.”
Yukiya made a face. “No pressure, right?” Then he smiled.
Yukichi was happy to see Yukiya doing well. They had different mothers, but had been raised together by Azusa, who was Yukichi’s mother. Yukiya’s mother, Fuyuki, the Lord of Hokke’s daughter, had died in childbirth.
Kiei and Yukiya were cousins. Yukiya had spent most of his life distancing himself from his Hokke relatives, but he’d embraced that part of himself recently for reasons Yukichi didn’t fully understand.
“That means you’ll be teaching your younger brother’s strategy class, Yukiya,” Shigemaru said.
Yukichi’s eyes flew open. “Huh?” He gulped. “Um, is strategy a difficult class?”
“It might be, with your brother teaching it.”
“Oh. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. Yukiya is good at everything; I’m sure I’ll learn it.”
Yukichi didn’t mind the idea of having Yukiya as a teacher. He’d been looking forward to seeing his brother in his capacity as an Imperial Guard while he was attending the Keisōin. Now that Yukiya was going to be an instructor, they’d be able to see one another often.
The Keisōin was a military training academy for the Imperial Guards. Attendance had swelled in recent years because of the Kuisaru invasions. Every Yatagarasu feared the man-eating monkeys. The Imperial Court had moved away from Souke Territory’s central mountain because the Kuisaru had a potential invasion route there. All court functions and government work were now conducted in the Palace Above the Clouds to the west, where the Imperial Court had relocated. The Sun Palace and the Keisōin had become military outposts that churned out soldiers for Yamauchi’s armies.
The Emperor had not yet stepped down, but he wasn’t a true Golden Raven like his son, Nazukihiko. Nazukihiko had taken control of the Imperial Court’s move and was more firmly entrenched in military affairs than his father was. Nazukihiko should be in control of all of Yamauchi by now, but circumstances had delayed his ascension. True Golden Ravens were rare; they were born with powers that made them uniquely suited to rule the Yatagarasu and combat disasters both mundane and magical. The current Emperor was a Substitute Golden Raven with little interest in politics and less in war.
Nazukihiko had recently opened the Forbidden Gate and regained some of his predecessor’s memories, so there could be no doubt that he was a true Golden Raven. The Emperor had not appeared in public since the Forbidden Gate had opened. The White Raven and his priests protested that Nazukihiko should ascend as the next emperor at once, but of course things weren’t that simple.
Yukiya had been at Nazukihiko’s side for his rise to power. He’d defended the Crown Prince from any number of assassination attempts and now served as his military strategist, a role created just for him.
“You’re off duty today, aren’t you? What will you do after this?” Shigemaru asked Yukiya.
“I’ve got to get going, sorry,” Yukiya said. “I came here to pick up a package. Now I’ve got it, so it’s time to leave.”
A maid stood a little to the side, carrying an armful of wrapped packages.
“It’s medicine water from Taruhi Province. It’s supposed to be quite a powerful remedy for illness and general weakness.”
Kiei frowned slightly. “Is that for the Princess of Sakura Palace?”
“Yes. We’re going to visit her next.”
The Princess of Sakura Palace—Nazukihiko’s wife—had been bedridden for the past ten days. At first everyone had been excited, believing that she was pregnant, but it seemed that she’d simply fallen ill. She no longer lived in Sakura Palace. Like the rest of the Imperial Court, she’d moved to the Palace Above the Clouds and was living in a temple that was much smaller than Sakura Palace.
“It must be difficult to go from living in an opulent palace to living in a drafty old temple. If there is anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Kiei said.
Yukiya nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I’m sure the Princess of Sakura Palace will be gratified by your concern.” He bowed. “I’ll be going now.”
“Give my regards to the Crown Prince,” Kiei said. “We’ll arrange a celebration for your appointment as strategy instructor later.”
“Sounds good,” Yukiya said, still bowing. He straightened up and waved. “See ya, Yukichi. Study hard!”
Shigemaru waved, too, and then he and Yukiya left through the front gate.
Yukichi stood in the courtyard for a moment, struck by his change in fortune. He’d spent his youth in Taruhi Village, a nobody whose father had been born a commoner. Yukimasa, his father, was a provincial governor now, but he didn’t command much respect in the Imperial Court.
Now look at him: rubbing shoulders with the Crown Prince’s military strategist and personal guard. Yukichi was happy and proud that his brother’s abilities were being recognized, but he also felt strangely detached from it all. He didn’t stand among the mighty and powerful because of his own efforts; that was all Yukiya’s doing.
***
“You’re just like your brother, y’know,” Shigemaru said to Yukiya.
Yukiya turned his face toward his best friend as if he’d been struck. “Liar. You’re the only one who ever says that, Shige.”
Yukiya had a different mother and looked quite different from his two half-brothers. Everyone told him that he was the odd man out. “You don’t look alike” was something he’d heard often.
Shigemaru stared blankly at him. “You don’t see it? Your little brother looks exactly like you when we first met.”
“Does he?”
“Your voice, your vibe, and all that. When he grows up, you’ll be like twins.”
Yukiya frowned a little. Some part of Yukiya had always felt like he didn’t belong in his family. Shigemaru wasn’t trying to poke a sore spot, so he couldn’t tell him to back off. He and Yukichi didn’t look alike at all, but Shigemaru meant no harm, so he let the comment slide.
“Let’s get going.” Yukiya undid the belt where his sword hung and then tied it around his neck. Then he transformed into his raven shape. He grasped his sword with his third leg and started running with his two other feet until he was fast enough to take flight. Shigemaru ran next to him in raven form, giving him a bit of room to maneuver.
Yukiya glided westward along the mountain cliffs. Residences built in overhanging style clung to the mountain like glittering barnacles. The wind was strong and cold and he smelled snow in the air.
Shigemaru and Yukiya passed over patrolling soldiers who recognized their swords and sashes. No one hailed them or made them stop. Most of the people they passed saluted.
The city was comparatively empty. Yukiya was used to seeing the streets full of merchants and luxuriously dressed shoppers, but Yamauchi’s capital was nothing but a ghost town patrolled by soldiers now. The mountain’s greenery was already beginning to reclaim old streets and buildings on the edges of the city.
Yukiya kept flying, leaving the city behind. A large temple complex appeared in the distance. The temples had been built on a lower mountain peak than the capital. This was the Palace Above the Clouds.
The Yatagarasu could not remain in the capital city with the threat of the Kuisaru so obvious and imminent. It was only a matter of time before the Kuisaru came through the Forbidden Gate to attack. The Palace Above the Clouds wasn’t far from the capital, but the Yatagarasu had searched it thoroughly and found no sign of the Kuisaru. There was no gate there for the Kuisaru to come through, and no underground tunnels.
The Palace Above the Clouds had been built long ago for an emperor who had abdicated. The main temple had been his residence. A matching temple next door accepted only women priests. Around those two temples, others had been built in profusion like petals layering around the center of a flower. The Palace Above the Clouds was seen as a place for the aristocracy who’d chosen to take religious vows. Until a year or so ago, when the Imperial Court had relocated here, it had been a quiet, serene place.
Now it was noisy and crowded: full of the signs of commerce and industry. Nobles who’d heard about the Kuisaru invasion had fled here in droves. The Emperor and Empress were among the first to move; their example was swiftly emulated by hundreds of others. Merchants moved to the Palace Above the Clouds next, following the money. The Palace Above the Clouds captured something of the former capital’s spirit, though it remained a place of religious service and contemplation.
Yukiya had opposed relocating to the Palace Above the Clouds because it was too close to the capital. He would have preferred evacuating to one of the territories. Unfortunately, he’d been outvoted by nobles.
Moving to the provinces would have caused a lot of friction in the Imperial Court. Touke, Saike, Nanke, and Hokke lay to the east, west, south, and north of the capital; whichever province was chosen for evacuation would gain a great deal of power and influence. For this reason, the nobles had insisted that they needed to relocate somewhere in Souke—the central territory—for the sake of preserving the balance of power. Most of the Imperial Court’s officials were members of the Touke, Saike, Nanke, and Hokke families. Some encouraged the Crown Prince to choose their home territory as an evacuation point, but most saw the wisdom of staying somewhere in Souke Territory.
From Yukiya’s perspective, the nobles were putting the rest of the Yatagarasu—and the Crown Prince—in danger because of their greed and selfishness.
The Kuisaru had attacked Hokke Territory five years ago. They’d slaughtered a village and concealed the bodies in rice wine jars full of salt for preservation. A year ago, a student had been abducted from the grounds of the Keisōin. The Crown Prince and his guards—including Yukiya—had rescued the student, Haruma, by entering Kuisaru territory with the help of a guide.
The guards closest to the Crown Prince and the Crown Prince himself were very aware of the threat that the Kuisaru posed, but most people were not. Nobles treated the relocation effort as a nuisance and a personal inconvenience. Most of them dragged their feet and made the process much more difficult than it needed to be.
The Empress was perhaps the worst of a bad lot. She was the Emperor’s first wife and showed clear reluctance to leave the Imperial Palace. She was also the Crown Prince’s primary political rival. She argued that it looked bad for the Emperor to flee the capital and declared that she would stay with him no matter what happened to them both. She feared that vacating the Imperial Palace would leave a space for the Crown Prince to occupy and exploit. She didn’t want him to wrest control of the nobles away from her.
Relocating to the Palace Above the Clouds was a compromise that pleased no one. Yukiya had spent months advocating for an evacuation to the provinces, but all that effort was for nothing. He was disappointed, not least with himself. But there was nothing he could do about the situation now. He needed to prepare for the worst.
Yukiya and his fellow military strategists had met to discuss the defenses of the Palace Above the Clouds, which were (predictably) poor. Shortly after the meeting, the strategists had announced that they would transform the area into a fortress. Large quantities of food were being shipped in and stockpiled. Laborers were brought in to farm clear stretches of land and build fortifications. The Yamauchishu assisted these efforts however they could.
The current state of the Palace Above the Clouds could best be described as organized chaos.
Yukiya was glad that the place was becoming more defensible by the day, but he didn’t think any amount of fortification, planning, or strategy would keep the Kuisaru out forever. He would prefer being a few hundred extra miles away from the Forbidden Gate at the moment.
Not for the first time, Yukiya prayed silently that the war would never reach this place.
The two temples at the heart of the Palace Above the Clouds were now surrounded by high white walls. A broad, well-maintained road stretched from the front gate to the smaller temples built on the mountainside below. Another white wall was being built around these smaller temples to prevent the Kuisaru from reaching the mountain summit.
Shion Temple was the current residence of the Princess of Sakura Palace. The two main temples were built directly in front of it. Shion Temple had been designed by an imperial princess several generations ago. It was not initially built for religious reasons, but to promote research on medicinal plants that grew on the mountain. Though it had a full set of temple buildings, its appearance was far more modest than the two grand temples on the mountain’s peak.
There was no wall surrounding the grounds of Shion Temple. It was encircled by well-tended fields of medicinal herbs.
A lookout noticed Yukiya and Shigemaru flying and signaled for to them to land. Yukiya and Shigemaru descended into the temple courtyard and returned to human form. The lookout showed them inside the main temple. Sumio and Akeru were waiting for them there.
“Good, you made it,” Akeru said. He was the Crown Prince’s personal attendant.
“Do you have the medicine water?” Sumio asked. He was the Crown Prince’s personal guard. Although he was rather short, he was a gifted soldier who’d graduated at the top of his class in the Keisōin. He was the oldest of the Crown Prince’s guards, but he was still young; his short stature and relaxed attitude gave him the general air of a mischievous boy. He was a patient man, calm and steady despite his appearance. He’d been born a commoner, but he’d spent much of his life guarding nobles.
Akeru was the second son of the Lord of Saike. He had large, inquisitive eyes, a thin mouth, and red-black hair like his sister Masuho no Susuki’s. He looked like a woman from a slight distance away, but he’d trained at the Keisōin for several years and had considerable fighting skills. He never looked down on Sumio for being born a commoner. They were on good terms and had spent a lot of time serving the Crown Prince together.
Sumio and Akeru had been waiting for hours. Yukiya scratched the back of his head sheepishly. He’d lost track of time while visiting the Lord of Hokke’s city estate. He handed over a bottle full of medicine water to Sumio.
“Here it is, just as you asked.”
“I guess it’s too late for us to visit the Princess of Sakura Palace,” Shigemaru said with a pout. “I was looking forward to that, too.”
Hamayū, the Princess of Sakura Palace, was well-liked in the Crown Prince’s faction. She was easy to talk to and considerate to everyone, even people of common birth. It was hard to believe that she was an imperial princess sometimes.
“Can’t we visit her anyway?” Shigemaru asked. “She doesn’t care about status or standing on ceremony or anything like that.”
“You must let her rest,” Masuho no Susuki said firmly. She was Hamayū’s lady-in-waiting. “This is not a matter of status or ceremony. It is not proper for the Princess of Sakura Palace to receive gentlemen callers so late in the evening.”
Shigemaru flinched. Sumio looked uncomfortable. Akeru’s face puckered like he’d swallowed a salt cube whole. Masuho no Susuki wasn’t usually so touchy about appearances or etiquette.
“Sorry,” Shigemaru said, looking down.
Yukiya bowed his head. “You’re right. We can’t call on the Princess of Sakura Palace so late; that would be discourteous. And she has been ill.” He looked up at Masuho no Susuki. “But don’t mistake our intentions. We wish to see her because we’re concerned for her, not for any inappropriate reason.”
Masuho no Susuki nodded magnanimously. “Of course.”
Yukiya removed a tightly wrapped bottle of rice wine from his breast pocket. “I brought this for the Princess of Sakura Palace. It’s a bottle of the best rice wine in Hokke Territory. Oh, and this as well.” He took out a package of sugar candies from his side pocket. “This is for you and the Princess of Sakura Palace’s other ladies-in-waiting. I’m sorry if we’ve offended you; it wasn’t our intent.”
Masuho no Susuki stared at the gifts, briefly at a loss for words.
“I know that life here is somewhat difficult,” Yukiya said. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know and I’ll do my best to accommodate you.” His polite smile did not reach his eyes.
Masuho no Susuki bowed her head. “I am much obliged to you, then, Lord Yukiya.”
The formal stiffness between them was awkward. Yukiya didn’t like it, but he didn’t know what else to say. “Uh… the bottle is heavier than it looks. I can carry these gifts to the kitchen for you, if you like.”
Masuho no Susuki nodded, saying, “Please do. You can remain here in the temple until the Crown Prince comes.” She directed a cold glare at Sumio and then led Yukiya toward the kitchen.
***
Sumio sighed heavily when Masuho no Susuki and Yukiya were out of sight.
Akeru glanced sidelong at him.
“What did you do to put Masuho no Susuki in such a foul mood, you idiot?” Shigemaru asked.
Before Sumio could answer, Akeru dragged Shigemaru into the hall and shut the door. Sumio didn’t follow them. Akeru led Shigemaru to a different, empty room and closed the door.
“You mustn’t pry into such matters,” Akeru said to Shigemaru. “Not here. My heart can’t take it.”
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Shigemaru said. “Is something really wrong? I’ll drop the subject if you really can’t tell me.”
Akeru looked down. “It’s just… I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone, all right? There was a proposal for Yukiya and my sister to marry, but…”
“…but something happened,” Shigemaru filled in. “This is the first I’ve heard about a marriage proposal. Wow.”
“It sounds like a nightmare, but it’s true.” Masuho no Susuki was only slightly older than Yukiya, who was the grandson of the Lord of Hokke. Politically, their marriage would make sense. “It was called off in haste, so not too many people know about it.
“When was this?”
“A long time ago. I was still at the Keisōin.”
“Yukiya never told me. I never knew.” Shigemaru tilted his head. “But why would that make your sister angry with Sumio? Angrier than usual, I mean.”
“Sumio recommended the match.”
Masuho no Susuki had taken a priestess’ vows and retired from secular society after becoming Hamayū’s lady-in-waiting. Even so, she was pressured on all sides to return to secular life. She was young and very beautiful. Even the Crown Prince had encouraged her to renounce her vows, because he wanted her to be happy and have a fulfilling life.
The Crown Prince had listened to Sumio’s suggestion, and he hadn’t dismissed it outright. He’d actually thought that it was a good idea. But when he’d asked Masuho no Susuki for her opinion, she’d rejected the proposal with such fury that it seemed like her rage would pierce the heavens as a flaming sword of vengeance.
“Who came up with that ridiculous idea? Who?! I’ll skin them alive!”
Because of this incident, Masuho no Susuki had developed a strong distrust of Sumio that had only gotten worse over time. Yukiya had never even heard about the proposal.
The Crown Prince and the Princess of Sakura Palace held Yukiya in high regard, but Akeru was secretly glad that Yukiya wouldn’t be his brother-in-law. He respected Yukiya, but he also feared him: he was cold-blooded and ruthless. Yukiya wouldn’t be a good match for his sister at all.
Shigemaru appeared stunned. “I don’t really understand how girls think. Why did your sister get so angry?”
Akeru’s brow furrowed. “Do you think the Crown Prince should have ignored my sister’s wishes? He could have. My sister doesn’t want to be forced to marry against her will.”
“Yeah, but she likes Yukiya, doesn’t she? Why not get married to someone you like?”
“Huh?” Akeru tilted his head. “You think she likes Yukiya? Where did you get that stupid idea?”
“Why would Sumio recommend the match if she didn’t like him? It makes no sense,” Shigemaru said.
Akeru gaped.
“Am I wrong?”
Akeru couldn’t form words. He stared at Shigemaru, his face reddening, and said no more.
***
“Are you going to tell me the truth now?” Yukiya asked Masuho no Susuki.
“The truth?” Masuho no Susuki asked neutrally. She smiled, but her eyes were wary.
“The Princess of Sakura Palace truly is ill. So ill that she cannot receive visitors. How am I doing so far?”
The sharpness of his question left little room for Masuho no Susuki to evade it. She could have tried to laugh it off or minimize it, but she didn’t.
“I’m not allowed to tell you anything,” Masuho no Susuki said. “So don’t ask me.”
“I see.” Yukiya grimaced. “That bad, huh?” He shook his head. “I didn’t realize I was asking such a sensitive question. I’m sorry. I hope the Princess of Sakura Palace recovers soon.”
“So do I.”
They reached the kitchen. Yukiya passed off the bottle of rice wine and the candy to a servant, then excused himself; he was eager to return to Sumio and the others.
Before he could leave, Masuho no Susuki said, “Wait.”
“What is it?”
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
“Oh? I’ll answer if I can.”
“It’s a simple question,” Masuho no Susuki said. “Why are you leaving that rumor unattended?”
Yukiya tilted his head slightly. “You’ll need to narrow it down for me. I deal with rumors all day long.”
“There is a rumor that the Kuisaru cannot invade through the Forbidden Gate. That the Imperial Court was evacuated on that pretext, but that it isn’t true. Have you heard that one?” Masuho no Susuki asked.
Yukiya had heard it. That same rumor claimed that the Kuisaru would invade through one of the territories—not Souke Territory, but any of the others. There wasn’t an easy way to make those rumors go away, either. Only the Crown Prince and his attendants were aware of exactly how the Kuisaru could enter the Imperial Palace through the Forbidden Gate.
If this rumor spread, then people in the provinces would panic and move to Souke Territory in droves.
Yukiya had traced this rumor to low-ranking Imperial Court officials who were deliberately spreading it because they feared that the mass relocation to the Palace Above the Clouds would cause a pandemic. He frowned and shook his head. The rumor was ridiculous and would do more harm than good, but he didn’t deal in rumors: he dealt in facts. He frowned, then said, “You know that rumor isn’t true. So do I, but how would we prove it?”
“Isn’t there some way to stop it from spreading? You’ve done nothing about it,” Masuho no Susuki said.
There were still quite a few nobles in the capital who’d refused to relocate. Masuho no Susuki had hesitated, herself; being given so little time to flee Yamauchi’s largest and wealthiest city rankled her. The Emperor and Empress’ refusal to leave the capital in a timely fashion had created even more unrest in the Imperial Court.
“The Emperor and Empress are deceiving people for their own selfish gain,” Masuho no Susuki said. “If you leave that rumor alone, the Crown Prince’s reputation will only worsen.”
Yukiya’s smile twisted slightly. “You’re correct. I thank you for your advice. You know that the Crown Prince’s pronouncements aren’t a lie, so I’ll thank you for doing your best to spread the truth.”
Masuho no Susuki found that reply deeply unsatisfying.
Before she could say more, Yukiya bowed to her, turned on his heel, and left the kitchen.
***
“Sumio got yelled at by Masuho no Susuki again? Why? What did he do this time?” Nazukihiko asked Hamayū.
Hamayū was reclining in bed. She laughed a little.
Nazukihiko was relieved to see her laugh. Hamayū had asked him to visit, but he’d nearly declined; he was concerned about her health. Seeing her in good spirits made him feel considerably better about this visit.
Hamayū’s bedroom was a barren space, almost devoid of furniture. She hadn’t brought many belongings with her when she’d moved into the Imperial Palace, and she’d brought even less when she’d relocated. Her bedroom didn’t look anything like a princess’ aside from the fancy canopy bed, which looked out of place in the large and scarcely furnished chamber.
“I think he wanted to come with me to escape,” Nazukihiko said. “He almost dragged Akeru along with him.”
Hamayū grinned. “Poor guy. I bet he’s terrified of her at the moment.” She sat up.
Nazukihiko moved to help her, but Hamayū put up a hand to forestall him.
“I’m all right,” Hamayū said.
Nazukihiko nodded and then sat at his wife’s bedside. She was still pale and had lost weight since he’d seen her last. Her features were sharply defined, and she was almost as tall as he was. Her speech was brusque and masculine; she had no patience for pretty manners. Nazukihiko had often leaned on her for strength, but he couldn’t do that now. Her weakened state unsettled him.
“Should you be sitting up?”
“Don’t start; the doctors are bad enough,” Hamayū said. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I asked you to come all this way to see me—I’m sure you’re very busy.”
They hadn’t gotten to see one another too often lately. The Kuisaru invasion and the rushed relocation had kept them both busy in different places.
“Don’t push yourself,” Nazukihiko said. “You don’t want to make yourself sicker.”
Hamayū gave him a distinctly pleased smile. “I certainly don’t. I shouldn’t like that you’re fussing over me so much, should I? I can’t help it. Your concern makes me feel immensely fortunate.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “How fares the Imperial Court in my absence?”
“No change,” Nazukihiko said. “There are plenty of problems, but nothing that you don’t already know about.”
Hamayū nodded. “I see. That’s good. We should probably discuss the idea of you taking a concubine. Sooner rather than later.”
Nazukihiko blinked slowly.
Hamayū’s gaze remained steady.
“I… I think I would prefer to ascend as the next Emperor before doing that,” Nazukihiko said.
“We don’t know when that will be,” Hamayū said. “I doubt the Empress will relax her grip on the Imperial Court until the Kuisaru invasion has ended.”
“The strategists have several ideas for how to bring an end to the war this year. If it drags on too long, I’ll reconsider.”
“Very well. Let me know as soon as you can.”
Nazukihiko fell silent. They had discussed the matter of a concubine countless times, but they were not of the same mind on the matter. Hamayū insisted that he should take a concubine now, but Nazukihiko didn’t see the need for haste. Perhaps there was a reason for her urgency that they hadn’t discussed before.
Nazukihiko took his wife’s hand in his without thinking about why he was doing it.
Hamayū gave him a pained smile. “I’m sorry, Nazukihiko. I wasn’t good enough.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Nazukihiko squeezed her hand. He hadn’t known that the cause of her illness was… that. “You… lost it?”
Yatagarasu conception involved egg-laying. A shell formed inside the mother’s body and it became increasingly more difficult for her to transform into her human shape. That was how a Yatagarasu woman knew she was pregnant.
In rare cases, conception occurred without the shell forming around the egg’s embryo. That was what had happened to Hamayū.
“I just thought my monthly flow was unusually heavy at first,” Hamayū said softly. “But then it didn’t stop. That’s when I knew.” She exhaled deeply, painfully, and brought her fingers to her forehead where she dug them in.
Nazukihiko’s grip on her other hand tightened. “Was the move too difficult? Is that why?”
“No,” Hamayū said. “The doctors say I have a weak constitution. That’s why.”
Masuho no Susuki had been frantic when Hamayū hadn’t stopped bleeding. She’d summoned court physicians, midwives, and anyone else she could think of to try and help. There was no way to treat Hamayū with medicine or needles—she needed to heal on her own. Women who miscarried once rarely ever laid a healthy egg after.
It was no one’s fault that Hamayū had been born barren. No one could have known before this happened.
“I’m all right,” Hamayū said. “I’m anemic, but that will go away with time. Aside from that, I’m perfectly healthy now. But I can’t give you a child. You need to take a concubine.”
Her matter-of-fact attitude stunned Nazukihiko. He swallowed down the words that threatened to escape his throat. “All right. I’ll consider it very carefully. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” She looked at him. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you in person, you see. Putting something like that in a message… I couldn’t do it. I’m glad to see you.”
“Me, too.”
After that, they talked of trivial matters and normal court problems until Masuho no Susuki came to tell Nazukihiko that it was time to let Hamayū rest.
Nazukihiko was about to leave when Hamayū called out after him.
“Nazukihiko?”
“Yes?” he asked, turning to face her.
“I’m really sorry.”
Nazukihiko shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me—not for that, not for something you have no control over. I’m sorry I can’t do anything for you. I’d do it if I could, but I can’t. All you can do now is rest and recover.”
Hamayū nodded slowly.
***
Chihaya had his guard face on. He was glowering at the Forbidden Gate, bored and restless. The White Raven’s Hall where the Forbidden Gate stood was a solemn, majestic place that impressed the commoner Chihaya not one whit. This magnificent hall—the resting place of generations of true Golden Ravens—was nothing more than another place to guard.
Water flowed from the stone coffins of the true Golden Ravens, which were all lined up in a neat row. The water was contained by deep grooves in the floor that carried the water to other places on the mountain. The Forbidden Gate stood amid the coffins, huge and forbidding.
The Forbidden Gate commanded Chihaya’s attention, and not just because it was his duty to guard it. He thought the huge edifice was well-named. He never wanted to be present when it was open; it looked like a door that was made to be shut, locked, and never opened again.
The White Raven’s Hall was under construction. A crude defensive rampart had been built facing the Forbidden Gate with watchtowers all along it. If the Kuisaru got through the gate, they would find defenders ready on the other side. Arrow slits and murder holes had been strategically placed to allow the defenders to pepper any invaders with arrows, stones, and boiling oil. Yamauchishu and soldiers walking along the rampart bristled with weapons, constantly on alert.
Chihaya hadn’t really seen what this place had looked like before the war with the Kuisaru, but he knew that everything about it had changed. This place was meant to be a mausoleum, not a fortress.
Two men approached Chihaya and saluted. “Ichiryū of the Yamauchishu and the Archpriest of the White Raven’s Hall reporting. We’re here to relieve you of duty, sir.”
“No formalities, please, Ichiryū,” Chihaya said. “I don’t have anything unusual to report. The Forbidden Gate remains shut.”
“We have no abnormalities to report, either,” the Archpriest said.
The White Raven had been ill for some years, so the Archpriest had taken over most of his duties. The Archpriest was a lean man in his forties who was perpetually careworn and constantly on the move. He’d entered the service of the White Raven as a young man and was well-liked and trusted by the other priests.
Chihaya didn’t like the Archpriest much. He thought the man had lived his life as a pampered noble. The Archpriest didn’t know what real hardship looked like. Chihaya didn’t think that he was a reliable man to count on in an emergency.
The Forbidden Gate had opened almost exactly a year ago. The Kuisaru were on the other side of it—monkey-shaped monsters that enjoyed eating Yatagarasu and humans.
Nazukihiko was the Crown Prince and a true Golden Raven. By all rights he should be Emperor by now, but the White Raven and the Archpriest had opposed his succession last year. True Golden Ravens were supposed to inherit their memories from their predecessors, but Nazukihiko had only his own memories. His direct predecessor had died inside the Forbidden Gate, far from home and undiscovered for a century; this had interrupted the flow of memories.
The previous year’s encounter with the Kuisaru had brought Nazukihiko to Naritsuhiko’s body, which had since been interred in a stone coffin in this very hall. Still, Nazukihiko’s memories remained his own. He had a few impressions of Naritsuhiko’s last thoughts before he’d sealed the Forbidden Gate shut, but that was all.
Chihaya had accompanied Nazukihiko to the other side of the Forbidden Gate last year to rescue one of his classmates, Haruma. They’d been guided by a monkey-like man named Kozaru who claimed that the Kuisaru had become huge and evil by consuming human flesh. Kozaru had led them into a trap to force Nazukihiko to open the Forbidden Gate, but fortunately, they’d all escaped unscathed. Kozaru hadn’t been so lucky—his own people had killed him.
Since then, the Forbidden Gate had been kept under constant guard. It was in the White Raven’s Hall and fell under the priests’ jurisdiction, but priests were not guards or warriors. The Yamauchishu and the priests were still learning cooperation. Only Yamauchishu who were confirmed to be loyal to the Crown Prince were permitted to keep watch on the Forbidden Gate.
Chihaya had been on guard duty for a week straight, so relief was welcome. He nodded and let Ichiryū take his place.
Ichiryū squeezed his shoulder once as he passed him by. “Good job. Get some rest, sir.”
Ichiryū was a year Chihaya’s senior, but Chihaya served the Crown Prince directly, so he was higher-ranked. It felt odd to address Ichiryū as a subordinate.
Yukiya didn’t care much for Ichiryū, who was a childhood rival. “His face looks like a muddy potato” was a favorite insult of Yukiya’s; he directed it Ichiryū’s way whenever he could get away with it.
Ichiryū certainly wasn’t handsome, but guards weren’t graded on their looks. Chihaya knew him to be a capable man and an attentive guard who had an unfortunate face and poor fashion sense. Like Yukiya, he was the son of a provincial governor and should have a bright future ahead of him. He lacked Yukiya’s keen mind and family ties to highly ranked nobles, though. While he was still at the Keisōin, his junior cadets had described him as a senior cadet who was hard to take seriously.
Chihaya had always treated Ichiryū more like a friend than a senior, at least after their disastrous first meeting.
“Yukiya and the others are visiting the Princess of Sakura Palace,” Ichiryū said. “Is that where you’re headed next?”
Chihaya thought about that. He’d like to go visit his sister, but if the Crown Prince needed him elsewhere, he’d follow orders.
“I’m not sure yet.” Chihaya shrugged and started walking away.
A loud sound rent the air and made him stumble over his feet before he took three steps.
***
Nazukihiko took in Yamauchi’s scenery from high above on horseback. He was en route from Shion Temple to the Sun Palace. He’d said farewell to his wife, but she didn’t leave his thoughts for a moment.
Snow was falling, just a few flakes here and there. Nazukihiko ignored it.
Being a true Golden Raven was an odd existence at the best of times. Learning about the death of his child and Hamayū’s condition felt more personal than usual. He grieved when any Yatagarasu was harmed, but the loss of his heir before they could even hatch affected him like a blow to the chest.
The true Golden Raven liked children. More than that: he valued them deeply. It was a fundamental part of who he was.
As he grieved his lost child, he felt a strange sense of helplessness that he couldn’t treat them any differently than anyone else. Because the true Golden Raven valued children, he would grieve any lost child in the same way. The idea made him mad at himself. Surely his own child was worth more than someone else’s?
No; he was wrong; it was a matter of perspective. From a detached, logical standpoint, he understood that it was right for parents to grieve their own children with love and care. As the progenitor of all Yatagarasu, Nazukihiko was doomed to grieve for all of his children equally.
He’d never thought of that as horrible before.
Nazukihiko had always known he was different, but that rarely bothered him. He couldn’t cease to be a true Golden Raven. He hadn’t chosen to be what he was, and he couldn’t choose to be different. There was no point in fighting against his essential nature.
But right now, he was thinking of his lost child. What would that child think if they knew that he would be sad for any dead child, and wasn’t capable of grieving only for them? That his own child wasn’t worthy of special consideration in his eyes?
While Nazukihiko tormented himself with these thoughts, he heard a baby’s cry on the wind.
For a moment, he thought he’d hallucinated the sound because of what he’d been thinking about, but his true Golden Raven instincts shrilled at him. The cry demanded his absolute focus.
“Your Imperial Highness?” Akeru asked. “Is something wrong?” He was accompanying the Crown Prince on his own horse.
Sumio brought his horse closer to them both.
The cry was getting louder, and now it sounded like a scream.
Nazukihiko didn’t recognize the voice, but it pierced him to the heart. His horse faltered and nearly dropped out of the sky. So did Akeru’s. The cry echoed throughout all of Yamauchi. Every living soul heard it.
Akeru and Sumio covered their ears. The air around them thickened, becoming difficult to breathe.
And then the earth shook far below.
A thick line of dirt and stone formed on Yamauchi’s surface like a map of the movements of an enormous serpent moving underground. The sound of the cry became distant; the terrible roar of the splitting earth drowned it out. Clouds of black dust billowed upwards, obscuring the ground below.
Mountains shook. Cliffs crumbled away. Buildings collapsed into fissures wide enough to swallow them whole. The overhanging residences of the Imperial Palace fell off the mountainside like broken toys. Nobles that refused to take their raven shapes died in the rubble, dressed in beautiful kimonos.
The earthquake ceased. He couldn’t hear the cry anymore, either. He heard nothing. He knew that people must be running and screaming below him, but those sounds didn’t reach him.
“Is it over?” Akeru asked.
There was a silence.
“Look up!” Sumio yelled, pointing upwards.
Nazukihiko tilted his face toward the sky and saw great dark rents there. The earth had torn itself open, and so had the sky. His eyes and fingers traced the wide, deep tears. The sky was like a glass dome that had cracked open.
Impossible.
Nazukihiko’s powers as a true Golden Raven included repairing tears in reality, but he didn’t know how to fix cracks in the sky. He shuddered and looked down.
This couldn’t go on. He had to fix this or all of Yamauchi would be destroyed.
“Sumio, hand me the bow!” Nazukihiko commanded harshly. “I’ll do my best to mend the tears that I can see. Land and get me more Wisteria Arrows. And hurry! After that’s done, help evacuate the city. Akeru, go to the nearest Yamauchishu guard post and mobilize them to assist survivors. Make the priests help as well. Don’t let anyone approach a tear. If they fall through one, they won’t be able to return to Yamauchi.”
Sumio and Akeru turned their horses’ heads immediately. Nazukihiko strung his bow on horseback. Yukiya and Shigemaru—both in raven form—circled him, awaiting orders.
“Come with me!” Hoisting his quiver onto his back, Nazukihiko urged his horse to fly upward with all his strength.
The cracks in the sky were like black spiderwebs. Nazukihiko had never mended tears like this, but he had to make the attempt. He drew back a Wisteria Arrow and prayed to his ancestors that this would work.
The arrow vanished into the sky.
A moment later, Nazukihiko nearly fell off his horse. He felt like all the blood had drained from his body. He clung to his horse woozily, tracking the arrow’s flight.
One long tear in the sky mended cleanly.
Nazukihiko let out a sigh of relief. It worked. I can fix this…
But there were so many tears, and mending one had weakened him considerably.
There was chaos below him. The earthquake had caused landslides everywhere. Earth and stone fell into the great rents in the ground and vanished into bottomless darkness.
Nazukihiko focused on the ground, shooting arrows at the darkest places. Wisteria vines grew from each arrow he shot, forming a net over wide gorges in the earth. After the vines stopped growing, they flowered.
Each arrow that Nazukihiko shot cost him more of his strength. He felt so cold; his hands were almost too numb to grip his bow. He clung to his horse with his legs and kept shooting.
“Your Imperial Highness!” Sumio called out. “Stop, please! You’re hurt!”
Nazukihiko reached for another arrow, but found none. His hands were sticky with his own blood. He couldn’t shoot more arrows, but he also couldn’t stop. There were still so many tears to mend!
Imperial Guards flew toward him bearing quivers full of arrows.
“How bad is the damage?” Nazukihiko asked as he accepted a new quiver.
“The bridge that leads to the Central Gate has collapsed. The Imperial Palace and the castle town are rubble. Very few buildings there are still intact.”
“The Aerial Army of Heaven has mobilized to evacuate survivors to the Palace Above the Clouds. There are a lot of people trapped under rubble. The landslides are making their efforts particularly difficult.”
Nazukihiko couldn’t feel his hands anymore, but he still gripped his bow. “I’ll come with you to the city. We need to prioritize the rescue of survivors. Take me to the place of greatest need.”
Before Nazukihiko could set out, he heard the sharp call of a raven. A Yamauchishu was flying directly at him. His sash had nearly slipped off in mid-flight.
The Yamauchishu landed on one of his compatriots’ horses in human form and saluted. “An incident has occurred at the Forbidden Gate. We require immediate assistance.”
***
The Forbidden Gate was like a scene out of a nightmare. The newly built ramparts had collapsed in places, pinning guards and priests under rubble. The ground kept shaking for minutes that felt like hours as landslides followed the initial earthquake. Flustered soldiers ducked to avoid flying stones and sought cover wherever they could.
The ground stopped shaking eventually, but the chaos could not be easily undone. Guards formed up in groups and asked one another for reports that they didn’t know how to give.
“What happened?”
“What was that just now?”
The Archpriest got to his knees, stunned and covered in dust.
Ichiryū and Chihaya were standing in the same group. Ichiryū recovered first. “The Crown Prince must be informed,” he said. “We need to send a message at once.”
A newly recruited Yamauchishu saluted. “Leave that to me.” He sprinted out of the ruined hall.
“Have the injured fall back to defensive positions. Summon the physicians here, as many as can be spared. Those on guard duty, your shift responsibilities have changed. Prioritize saving people who were buried in the landslide. You and I will catalogue the damage to the rampart and await new instructions,” Ichiryū said to Chihaya.
Chihaya nodded. He’d already started recording his observations of the rampart. Stone clogged the streams of water that issued forth from the coffins of past true Golden Ravens. He considered it a matter of some urgency to clear those streams; he didn’t know what would happen if they remained blocked for long.
“This is awful. We can’t just leave it like this.”
“We also can’t leave the Forbidden Gate unattended while we deal with this mess,” Ichiryū said in a tone of complaint.
“What do we do?”
“You’re asking me?” Ichiryū asked. He glanced at the destroyed rampart. “We need to start repairs first. Bring in stonemasons and craftsmen. And we need the Crown Prince here to verify that the Forbidden Gate is still sealed shut.”
Chihaya nodded; so much was reasonable. There was little they could do right now but guard the gate and wait for the Crown Prince to arrive.
Little was not nothing, however. Chihaya directed soldiers to clear rubble and create paths as they pulled people out from under fallen stone.
Ichiryū moved with him, issuing more commands. “Archers, be on alert! Don’t take your eyes off the Forbidden Gate! Wounded who can’t use weapons, fall back! Those with minor injuries, go check what’s going on outside. Anyone with free hands, clear away stones!”
The Yamauchishu who’d gone to fetch the Crown Prince returned fairly quickly. He bowed to Ichiryū and Chihaya, out of breath. “The Crown Prince is right behind me! He’ll be here in a minute.”
No sooner had he spoken than the Crown Prince set foot in the White Raven’s Hall, accompanied by a half-dozen guards including Yukiya and Shigemaru. He found Chihaya in the chaos and ran over.
“Has anything come through the Forbidden Gate?” the Crown Prince asked.
“No, nothing that we’ve seen.”
“We heard a terrible noise when the earthquake hit, but it’s been quiet since then,” Ichiryū said.
Then there was a terrible metallic grating noise like rusted hinges being forced open.
Chihaya ran to a place where the rampart had collapsed and saw the Forbidden Gate, which towered over him.
It was opening. Slowly, so slowly—but it was no longer sealed shut. A dark shadow moved in the widening gap. The creature pressed forward, revealing broad shoulders, shaggy brown fur, luminous golden eyes, and a wrinkled face.
“Kuisaru!” Chihaya called out.
“Crossbows, take aim!” Yukiya called out.
Soldiers rushed to their posts. The Crown Prince dashed through the largest hole in the rampart and raised his bow.
The Kuisaru’s eyes narrowed.
The Crown Prince shot an arrow directly into the Kuisaru’s face.
The arrow didn’t touch the Kuisaru. It skittered off into the air as if it had hit an invisible wall. A moment later, the arrow burst into flames.
“Your Imperial Highness! What are your commands?!” Yukiya shouted.
The Crown Prince drew another arrow, but he didn’t fire.
Chihaya glanced between the Crown Prince and Yukiya and calmed himself. Panicking now would solve nothing.
There were two archers standing atop the unbroken pieces of the rampart. Five crossbowmen stood in formation on the ground.
“Fire!” Yukiya yelled.
Arrows rained down on the Kuisaru along with thick crossbow bolts. All of the arrows and bolts met the same fate as the Crown Prince’s arrow. The archers and crossbowmen cried out in confusion. Yukiya commanded them to keep shooting.
“Get ready!” Yukiya called out. “Fire!”
The next time the archers and crossbowmen fired, their weapons burst into flames.
Yukiya looked annoyed. He drew his sword and leaped down from the rampart. Chihaya followed hot on his heels.
“Wait!” Ichiryū called after them.
Yukiya paid him no attention. He engaged the Kuisaru in battle, slashing with his sword.
The sword could not pierce the flesh of the Kuisaru. Like the arrows, blades met an invisible barrier.
Yukiya kept putting more force into his strikes, trying to break through the barrier. Chihaya made an experimental horizontal slash to the Kuisaru’s torso and then jumped back, creating distance. His hands stung from trying to break through the barrier.
“How rude,” the Kuisaru said in the language of the Yatagarasu.
Chihaya froze. His sword hilt burned in his hand. He hissed and let go.
Yukiya dropped his sword a moment later.
Chihaya was aghast. The sword he’d dropped was melting, and so was Yukiya’s. All the other soldiers and guards had dropped their weapons as well.
“Fools,” the Kuisaru spat. “I am here at the behest of the mountain god. Opposing me is the same as opposing him.” His expression showed nothing but contempt.
Shigemaru, Ichiryū and Nazukihiko were standing close together. Shigemaru flinched at the Kuisaru’s words, his face pale.
The Kuisaru narrowed his eyes. “It has been a long time, true Golden Raven. I am here to fetch you.”
“Fetch me?” Nazukihiko asked.
“Yes. The mountain god summons you to his sacred realm. Cease your pointless resistance and come with me.”
Nazukihiko didn’t move.
The Kuisaru frowned at him. “Well. If you mean to defy the mountain god’s orders, I cannot compel you to obey. Don’t expect me to care about what will happen to you and your people.” He laughed cruelly, then crossed his arms and waited for Nazukihiko’s response.
There was a tense silence. Shigemaru and Nazukihiko kept staring at the Kuisaru.
Nazukihiko bit his lip and looked down. “Very well. I shall accompany you,” he said. He walked with the Kuisaru toward the Forbidden Gate.
***
The air on the other side of the Forbidden Gate was thick and cloying like mud sucking at Nazukihiko’s boots. His ears popped painfully. He felt like he was being smothered in a blanket made of air that was simultaneously too hot and too cold.
The hall he stepped into was a ruin coated in dead wisteria vines. A narrow path had been cut through the old vines so that the Kuisaru and Nazukihiko could travel unimpeded. The vicious yellow eyes of other Kuisaru followed Nazukihiko and his guide as they walked through the hall.
Yukiya and Chihaya had followed Nazukihiko. He hadn’t thought to order them to stay back. The Kuisaru had told him that he was permitted two companions and no more; he might be allowed to bring more after he proved himself worthy of trust. Shigemaru and Ichiryū had wanted to come, too, but the Kuisaru had refused passage to them. If they had come here, the other Kuisaru would have killed them.
Nazukihiko was exhausted. Using his powers sapped his strength, but usually not to this degree. He’d felt off since he’d mended the large tear in the sky. It was like his life force was draining out of him into the ground. There was no wound on him anywhere, but he felt like he was bleeding out.
Aiming his bow at the Kuisaru had also been strange. Just before he’d loosed his arrow, he’d gotten the vague sense that he was being judged for an unforgivable crime. Like there were eyes in the sky, watching him—and finding him wanting.
I’ve done it now. That was what Nazukihiko had thought when he’d released the arrow. He’d known in advance that he’d be punished in some way. Now that punishment was here.
His true Golden Raven instincts had warned him not to shoot, and he’d aimed at the Kuisaru anyway. The consequences of that act were his to bear.
His bow and arrows burning and the metal weapons melting were incidental. That had happened because Nazukihiko had shown defiance to the mountain god. That was the mistake he’d made. In trying to defend his people, he’d gone against a divine mandate.
Nazukihiko had to turn this situation around somehow. If he didn’t, he, Yukiya, and Chihaya would be killed. He wasn’t used to experiencing fear. He could feel none for his own sake. He hated feeling terrified for the people who’d sworn to protect him. If they died, it would be his fault.
***
The thick air went from warm to cool as they walked. Nazukihiko scented blood on the wind and grimaced. Wet sounds came from a cave mouth just ahead.
There was no light source in the cave. It took a few moments for Nazukihiko’s eyes to adjust. The first thing he saw was a pool of blood spreading over bare stone. He could smell it better than he could see it; he nearly gagged.
A woman’s body lay in the center of the pool of blood. She was young, and her face was frozen in a rictus of fear. Her long hair fanned out over her shoulders, damp and sticky from her own lifeblood. Her kimono was torn in places, some of them indecent. Her entrails spilled out onto the floor.
She was dead. She’d died recently, but rushing here from the Forbidden Gate wouldn’t have saved her. How terrible.
A small creature that looked like a monkey danced around the woman’s corpse, her blood marking its hands and feet. The creature’s limbs were as thin as sticks. Every rib and vertebrae of its spine was visible through its skin. The creature didn’t have as much fur as a normal monkey, but it didn’t move like a human.
There was an awful slurping sound as the creature sucked the woman’s blood from its lips. It leaped on the woman’s body and bit into her, its fangs carving into her flesh and tearing her open. It sucked at her warm entrails, seeming satisfied with itself.
“Mountain god, I have brought the raven to you,” the Kuisaru said.
The creature looked up. Its face was wrinkled and blood streaked its chin. Its hair grew in white clumps and its eyes were sunken into its skull.
This monster was the mountain god? How? Why?
The mountain god’s eyes were ominously dark. “A raven,” he—not it, no matter how monstrous he looked—said in a voice like flakes of rust. “When was the last time I saw one of those?” he rasped, hissing his S sounds like a snake.
“A century? More? They locked the gate,” the Kuisaru said.
The mountain god nodded to himself. “I see, I see. Why have you shown your faces here again, you brazen traitors?!”
The thick air weighed Nazukihiko’s shoulders down. Lightning crackled all around the mountain god.
Yukiya and Chihaya stood still, not daring to even breathe too loudly in the presence of this monstrosity.
Nazukihiko couldn’t win this encounter. He slumped in defeat. This was what his predecessor Naritsuhiko had feared so much. Naritsuhiko had come face-to-face with this entity and fled. Nazukihiko completely understood why.
The Kuisaru approached the monster, making placating gestures. “Please don’t be angry,” he said. “I know you are enraged at them, but you can’t deny that you require their service.”
The mountain god mumbled under his breath.
The Kuisaru turned to face Nazukihiko. “My people have found it difficult to look after the mountain god alone recently. You were summoned here to assist us. You abandoned the mountain god and fled a century ago, which is reprehensible, but this is an opportunity to get back into the mountain god’s good graces. You shouldn’t waste it.” He snickered. “So. You’ll look after the mountain god, yes? You should be grateful to be given another chance.”
Nazukihiko was briefly speechless.
“I proposed this, you see,” the Kuisaru said, puffing out his chest. “What will you do?”
Nazukihiko said nothing.
“Your Imperial Highness,” Yukiya whispered. “Don’t do anything foolish.”
“If you want to leave, then leave. I won’t stop you,” the Kuisaru said.
Nazukihiko’s true Golden Raven instincts shrilled at him in alarm. If he chose to leave, he would pay a terrible price.
“If you will not serve, you are useless. Useless servants are unnecessary.”
Nazukihiko’s vision went white as invisible claws drove into his skull, searing his mind.
But his own pain barely registered. Yukiya and Chihaya were on the ground, clutching their heads and groaning. There was blood leaking out of their ears.
“Yukiya, Chihaya!”
Nazukihiko rushed over to them and placed his hands on their foreheads. He poured his power into them, mending the tears in their minds before the damage became permanent. They screamed and thrashed and would not be still.
Nothing happened. Yukiya and Chihaya wouldn’t heal. He could do nothing to help them.
“What will you do, raven?” the Kuisaru asked again.
The monstrous mountain god stared at Nazukihiko with his teeth bared and his eyes open wide. “I could crush you right now. You and your little world. It would be easy. I can do it at any time.”
The ground shook beneath Nazukihiko’s feet.
The earthquakes and tears in the sky in Yamauchi were the mountain god’s doing. Cold sweat stood out on Nazukihiko’s face.
He had to agree to serve the mountain god—but what would happen to him then? If he promised to stay, he wouldn’t be able to help his people in Yamauchi.
“No,” Yukiya said. He sat up with effort. Blood dripped from his nose. “No. You can’t serve him. You can’t.”
The sight of Yukiya’s blood flowing freely made something snap inside Nazukihiko. He dropped to his knees and kowtowed to the mountain god.
“I will serve you,” Nazukihiko said to the monster.
The headache stopped.
“No,” Yukiya said softly. “No.”
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