Spirit's Chosen (19 page)

Kaya did not have any such divided thoughts.

“I hope the mountain ogre finds him and devours him piece by piece, from the toes up!” she declared as we met the sunrise at the top of the pass.

“If you keep talking about him, he’s always going to be with you, like a sickness that can’t be cured. You’ll never be able to forget how powerless he made you feel,” I told her. “Whether he lives or dies back there, kill the memory of him once and for all.”

“How do you suggest I do that?” she countered defensively.

“I don’t know. Picture him as the
mamushi
that was trying to kill you and drop an imaginary rock on his head.”

“At least the
mamushi
was honest,” Kaya growled, but a little while later I saw her take Gori’s severed hair and drop it beside the trail that took us down the mountain, into the Ookami lands.

We found the second fox shrine by midmorning of our first day descending the mountain path. It was much larger than the modest altar where the young Inoshishi woman had entrusted us with her carefully gleaned sack of rice. The image of its guardian spirit was elaborately painted and adorned with pretty pebbles and bits of turtle shell and perched atop a platform made of many heavy stones. They were built up high enough for us to look directly into the fox’s eyes. As we had been told, the altar was waiting for us in a meadow with many burnt timbers standing around it. However …

“These are not trees,” I said, glancing uneasily at the charred ruins of what once had been the elevated homes and storehouses of a village.

“See there?” Kaya indicated several large, regularly shaped depressions in the fresh spring grass. “Those were pit houses, I’m sure of it. They must have collapsed a long
time ago; they’re filled with wildflowers! Why would that young woman want to send such a generous offering to a deserted shrine?”

I was at a loss to explain it. “She’s expecting a baby. She might have made a vow to the fox spirit and she’s afraid to risk breaking it, for the child’s sake.”

“Then why couldn’t she just leave the rice at the shrine near her own village?” Kaya argued, hefting the bag. “And if she’s really worried about her baby, she should have eaten all this herself!”

There was an abrupt rustling from within the nearest ruined pit house. A scrawny, wrinkled, white-haired woman rose from her hiding place, groaning a little as her ancient bones balked at obeying her desires. She wore a weathered cloak made of dried grass, a crude garment that had helped her remain unnoticed until now.

“Yes, exactly!” she cried in a cricket’s piping voice. “You are right, stranger, my Nazuna should take better care of herself, especially this close to her time! She will need strength to get through the birth, and afterward she’ll have to make good milk for the infant.
‘You can’t do that living on air and prayer,’
I told her the last time she came here. I thought she took my advice, but I see I was wrong. Stupid, stubborn girl.”

“Grandmother …?” I faltered, addressing her with the respect due to someone of her age. “Grandmother, what is Nazuna to you?” I half expected her to turn to mist before my eyes and blow away on the breeze, a ghost encountered in a place that must harbor many more.

My question appeared to amuse her. “Just as you say,
girl: she is my eldest grandchild. You speak her name as if it’s something new to your tongue. Why?”

“I never heard it until now.”

“That’s true,” Kaya said, backing me up. “We’re strangers in these lands, just passing through on a pilgrimage. Your granddaughter found us at the Inoshishi fox shrine, gave us this, and told us to leave it here.”

“Is that so?” Her thinning eyebrows rose. “Pregnancy is making that child a little
too
trusting.”

“I think you can see that her trust was not misplaced,” I said, taking the rice bag from Kaya and holding it out to the old woman. “If you’ll accept it, we can be on our way.”

Nazuna’s grandmother looked ashamed as she received the rice. “Forgive me, girls. Don’t go so soon. The little ones and I seldom see other people. We cannot give you suitable hospitality, but we can give you somewhere comfortable to rest. We also know of a small hot spring nearby, very good for washing away the dust of travel and soaking tired feet.”

“Oh
yes
, please!” Kaya exclaimed. I was happy seeing that my friend’s close call with the
mamushi
was not going to spoil all hot springs for her.

The old woman chatted with us genially as she led us away from the ruined village. The need for concealing our identities was over: we introduced ourselves to her by our true names and clans, though I did not mention my calling. Some people, like my father, mistrusted shamans. Others were terrified of our powers. Until I knew this woman better, it was enough to be no more than Lady Himiko of the Matsu.

“I am Ayame of the hawk clan,” she told us. “
Lady
Ayame, if you please.” She tittered, then sighed. “That high-sounding title is worth little to us now, when I fling stones to kill sleeping owls to eat and rob squirrels of their autumn hoards. Whenever we eat Nazuna’s rice, it pains me to the marrow of my bones knowing that each bite comes out of her mouth, but what can we do? A few grains are sometimes all that keep us among the living.”

“How did you know to wait by the fox shrine for our arrival with the rice today?” I asked.

“I didn’t, until Isamu told me. You will meet my grandson soon, and his sister, Yuri. He’s becoming quite the accomplished guard, always keeping an eye on the trails through here.”

By this point in the conversation we had left the haunted meadow and were in a woodland of oak and evergreen. I spied what looked like a pile of forest debris at the base of a large tree and was startled when a grubby-faced little girl popped out of it like a bright-eyed little field mouse. When we came closer, I saw that the tumbledown heap of branches and grass was actually the top of a roughly built pit house. The girl shouted happily when she saw Lady Ayame approaching and ran to greet her, unconcerned by us two strangers in her grandmother’s company. Another child watched our approach with more wariness. He looked only slightly older than the girl, but with the tired eyes of a long-sorrowing man. Both of the children were thin as grass stalks.

“Isamu, my beloved boy, you were right!” Lady Ayame called out to him. “You are a true son of the Taka clan, born with a hawk’s eyes! See, these are the two girls you
saw coming down the path—Lady Himiko of the Matsu and Lady Kaya of the Shika clan. They bring us more rice from Nazuna.”

“Why didn’t Nazuna bring it herself, like always?” Isamu asked, staring at Kaya and me as though the mere sight of us put a sour taste in his mouth. “What happened to her?”

“Tsk. What a question!” His grandmother stroked his hair, which was ungroomed and badly tangled. “She’s going to have her baby soon. Do you want her to give birth while trying to get over the mountain?”

“No, oh no!” little Yuri cried. “We don’t want that. What if the
oni
was out hunting and caught her and her baby? He’d
eat
them!” With a shy, sidelong look at me, she added, “Did
you
see the mountain ogre, Lady Himiko?”

“No, my dear.” I smiled at the child, but it was hard to do wholeheartedly when her bony body and pale face filled my heart with pity. “Your sister Nazuna warned us about him, but he never crossed our path.”

“Oh, Nazuna’s not my
sister
,” Yuri informed me with a grown-up’s dignity. “We had different mamas. Hers was a des—a des—a
despicable coward
.” She pronounced the offensive words with assurance, but I would bet she had no idea what they meant.

“Yuri! Don’t say such things!” Lady Ayame scolded. “Nazuna’s mother was your father’s senior wife and the daughter of my heart. When your mother died, she treated you like her own children.”

“I would never want to be
that
woman’s child,” Isamu said angrily. “When the Ookami came and destroyed us,
Father fought, but
that
woman ran away. She abandoned us all.”

“Isamu!”
Lady Ayame’s reproof rang out like a slap. “You will
not
speak ill of our family. Our guests will think that I am failing to raise you well. Do not shame me!”

The boy was abashed. “I’m sorry, Grandma,” he muttered.

“Then show it. Lady Kaya and Lady Himiko want to bathe after their travels. Lead them to the spring.”

“Can I go too, Grandma?” Yuri bounced on her toes, clutching the old woman’s papery hand. “Please, please, please?”

“But if you do, who will help me make room in the house for our visitors?” her grandmother asked mildly. The child’s face fell.

“Lady Ayame, why not let those three go?” I said. “I will stay and help you.”

“Nonsense! You are my guest. You shouldn’t have to prepare your own sleeping space. We have little left to us, Lady Himiko, but we have not lost everything.”

True
, I thought, regarding the old woman’s noble bearing with admiration.
Your village has become a burial ground, your noble rank is a drop of water in the sun, and hunger sleeps across your threshold, but you have kept one treasure: your dignity. I will not rob you of it
.

“My lady, I never intended to offend you,” I said. “It’s simply that I would rather bathe later, but if you
insist
I go now …”

“Insist!” She raised her hands in protest. “Didn’t I just
say you’re my guest? I would never do something so—so
discourteous
.” She gave me a hurt look.

I hastened to apologize, which mollified her immediately. “What a silly misunderstanding we’ve had, Lady Himiko! If you don’t want to go to the spring, please stay here and keep me company while I look after the house. You’ll see there really isn’t
that
much to do, so you can leave it all to me.”

“Of course.” I inclined my head deferentially, but I think we both knew how things would sort themselves out once Kaya and the children were out of sight.

I was right, and soon I was helping the old noblewoman make space for us in her poor home. As we worked, she began to chatter happily, words pouring from her with the joy of fresh water freed from the confinement of a dam.

“Ah, Lady Himiko, you have no idea how good it feels to be able to talk to another adult,” she said after we had finished the task and were sitting together in the shade of a venerable oak tree. “Isamu and Yuri are good children, yet they
are
children. There are times I find myself looking forward to my Nazuna’s next visit more for the conversation we’ll have than for the food she’ll bring.”

“Lady Ayame, forgive my curiosity, but … if you miss Nazuna so much, why don’t you and the children live with her, among the Inoshishi?” I asked. “Since she’s there already, part of a household, it’s clear that the boar people don’t object to folk from other clans joining their settlement.”

Lady Ayame’s face became a flint. “You sound like her.
She always asks us to travel back over the mountain and live under her roof. She says she worries that we will die here, if we stay, but we have not budged from this land since the day the Ookami destroyed all we knew, all we loved, and we are not dead yet.”

“Yet,”
I thought, remembering the children’s thin limbs and pinched faces.

“When we were with the boar clan, one of their young noblemen told me that they were the last village before we’d reach the Ookami settlement, but he also said that they were the second clan the wolves attacked,” I said quietly. “Now I understand his words.”

“Yes, we were the first of their conquests,” the old woman said, her gaze seeking ghosts. “Nazuna told me that young Lord Ryu sent a messenger to the boar clan giving them the choice of battle or surrender. The wolf chieftain gave us no such choice, and no warning before the onslaught. He wanted us to
become
a warning to the other clans. Our fate was the reason the Inoshishi chieftain gave up without a fight.”

She bent her head, and tears dropped onto her work-worn hands. “If I can do one thing before I die, it would be to make Yuri and Isamu see that Nazuna’s mother was
not
a shameful coward. When the Ookami attacked and we saw that our men would not win that battle, she tried to gather
all
her children and get them to safety. I”—Lady Ayame’s voice caught—“I told her to take Nazuna and go ahead. I promised I would come after her and bring the little ones, but …” She could not go on.

“But you are a hawk.” I spoke hoping that I could find
the words to let her know that I understood her heart. “A nobly born lady of the Taka clan, and no hawk leaves its nest while one stick remains on top of another. You had faith that your warriors would rally and win the day, so you stood firm.”

“Firm?” she echoed. “Foolish. How can I blame my Nazuna for being stupid and stubborn when she has
me
for a grandmother? Thank the gods that her mother had more sense! When she saw that I’d broken my promise, she didn’t wait any longer but took her child through the pass and down to the boar clan lands. She died among strangers, but Nazuna was never made to feel like an outcast among the Inoshishi.”