Spirit's Chosen (3 page)

“Can’t you be all that and pretty too?” the shaman asked Kaya in an innocent voice.

“Since when are badgers pretty?” my friend asked with good humor.

“Since the first day of creation,” Master Michio replied. Then he added: “Just ask another badger.”

We all laughed, and our laughter carried its own special magic. While it lingered, lifting our hearts, it pushed aside everything else. If that merry sound could have lasted forever, the world would hold only joy. But that was impossible. Like the tumbling petals that had once adorned a slender branch of cherrywood, the notes of laughter faded, fell, and were gone.

I was the first to fill the silence left in their wake. “Master Michio, thank you for welcoming us. It is good to be here with you again, but when can we go to my family? Do you want to speak with them first, before I show myself?”

“That might be the best idea,” Kaya put in. “They don’t know what happened to you, whether you’re alive or dead. Happy tidings can be as big a shock as bad ones if it comes out of nowhere. You don’t want your poor mother fainting because she thinks she’s seeing your ghost.”

“Little chance of that,” Master Michio said under his breath. Before I could question him, he went on: “The pretty badger is right. Some news must be broken gently, gradually.
It’s the kindest way. I promise that we’ll go to your house soon. Meanwhile, I could use your help. The battle with the Ookami left many men here gravely hurt. I met you just as I was leaving one of them. He needs fresh salve for his wounds and a potion to numb pain, but my supplies have been used up. The sooner we work together to make more, the sooner he’ll have some relief, poor fellow.”

What could I do but consent? With Kaya lending a hand too, Master Michio and I mixed dried herbs and other ingredients into medicines for our people. While I knelt to grind roots into powder, he chanted spells, seeking the spirits’ assistance, calling on them to strengthen the plants’ healing qualities. I had learned the same incantation from my first teacher, Master Michio’s half sister, Lady Yama, but though I could have joined my voice with his, my throat closed. I was choking on a rising flood of questions, and if I let one slip out, the others would pour after, interrupting our shaman and perhaps making him lose the goodwill of the spirits.

At last he was done. A row of bowls filled with healing compounds lay on the ground between us. Master Michio looked content.

“Thank you, girls,” he said. “Many people will bless you for helping their loved ones rest more comfortably tonight.”

“How many?” Kaya asked. Master Michio gave her an inquiring look. “How many of your men were wounded? How many died?”

“Lady Badger has a blunt tongue.” The shaman frowned. “Why do you ask such things? What good will it do to give
you an accounting? Will it satisfy you to know that we lost
too
many of our people?”

“How many is too many?” Kaya replied. She held up both hands, her fingers spread. “This many? Less? More?”

Master Michio’s disapproving look deepened. “Why don’t I take you with me through this village so you can ask the widows and orphans to tally their dead just to feed your childish curiosity? Or if you insist on an accurate count, wait a few days. A few more may die by then. Some wounds I’m treating won’t heal, no matter how much I labor over them. Will that satisfy you?”

“Master Michio, she didn’t—” I began.

“
Shame
on you.” Kaya sat back on her heels and drew herself up with dignity. Her gaze did not falter as she met our shaman’s hostile stare, and I heard echoes of her chieftess mother’s commanding voice in every word she spoke. “I have good reasons for my questions. Himiko is my friend, my spirit’s sister. Her pain is my pain; her clan’s loss is mine! I didn’t come all this way with her out of curiosity. I won’t leave until I know that this clan can survive. I ask how many died because I want to know how many still live. Do you have enough food to take all of them through the winter? Will you have enough able-bodied people to tend your fields when the planting season comes? More important, how many of the Ookami are still here? How are they treating your chieftain in defeat? What will they do when they learn that another member of his family has appeared?” She seized my hand. “Himiko wanted to go home, but I won’t leave her side until I know her home is
safe
.”

Master Michio’s scowl softened. “A blunt tongue, but sharp teeth.” He sighed, and that sigh melted into tears. I watched in horror as our shaman covered his face and sobbed like a heartbroken child. With a small cry of sympathy I rushed to throw my arms around him while he shook with weeping.

Kaya was stunned at the effect her words had produced. We had both grown up with the knowledge that a shaman must be as brave and strong as any warrior. It takes courage to confront the spirits, to entreat them, to command them, to summon and banish them. Some are kindly, but there are also malicious ones that need to be placated or even fought. Sometimes we shamans were all that stood between our people and the wrath of these powerful, harmful beings. Master Michio had stood guard for many years on the border between darkness and light. Why should a young girl’s words, no matter how biting, reduce him to this?

“I—I’m sorry,” Kaya stammered, her face pale. “I didn’t—didn’t know—didn’t want to—Oh, I’m
sorry
!”

Master Michio raised his head and forced a smile. “No, Lady Badger; you have no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong. It’s my own fault. I’m like a little boy who meets an
oni
on the road and thinks he can hide from that horrible mountain ogre just by covering his eyes. He tells himself,
If I can’t see it, it can’t see me, and when I open my eyes again, it will be gone
.” He shook his head. “But the
oni
is still here, and I must face it.”

My hands were still resting on his shoulders. He shifted sideways, away from me, and turned so that we faced each
other. “There is much to tell you,” he said. “If I only knew where to begin …”

“Start by telling me one thing,” I replied. “Was it my fault that we were conquered?”

Master Michio blinked rapidly, confused. “Was it your—? By the gods, child, what makes you ask such a thing?”

I clasped my hands in my lap. “When I decided I couldn’t stay here any longer, I joined a group of boys and girls who were going into the forest to gather nuts and mushrooms for the winter. As soon as I saw my chance, I slipped away from them. I’d spent a lot of time before that asking many questions about the Todomatsu clan, the seacoast people with whom you used to live. I did it to leave a false trail, so that when Father realized I was gone, he’d send a search party down the wrong road to find me and I’d be able to get away. Tell me truly now, Master Michio, did Father send men after me, men who should have been here to help fight the Ookami?” My voice rose shrilly. “Did my trickery cost our clan its freedom?”

“Ah! No, no, put such thoughts out of your head at once!” he exclaimed. “Your plan might have worked, but when your father ordered your eldest brother to lead the men, Aki argued with him. He insisted you hadn’t gone to the Todomatsu and begged your father to let him track you down on his own. You can imagine how well your father liked being contradicted. The whole village heard him yelling at Aki, commanding him to do as he was told. Your mother, poor lady, begged him to let your second-eldest brother, Shoichi, lead the search party. All she wanted was
to have you back, but the argument had become a contest of wills between father and son. When the Ookami struck, no one had left the village. Every fighting man of our clan was here.”

He looked at the ground. “For all the good it did. We fought fiercely, but there were too many of them. They threw torches over our walls, set fire to our gates, and when our men rushed out to meet them in battle, they overwhelmed us.”

“Are they still here?” Kaya asked.

Master Michio shook his head. “They didn’t linger. Why would they? Could you sleep securely in the midst of your enemies, even if you had defeated them? Once they were victorious, their chieftain ordered his men to pull down Grandfather Pine and made every one of us watch while they burned him to ashes.”

Their chieftain …
, I thought.
Ryu
. The name called up angry memories. Many seasons ago, before the Ookami had brought war to our gates, they had come to offer the chance to unite our peoples. Ryu’s father was their ruler then, and while he and his men met with our nobles, I was told to entertain the Ookami chieftain’s son. As we walked, I quickly learned that his handsome face hid a callous and arrogant heart. He saw other people as his playthings, his tools, his slaves, their lives worth only what they could do to serve his desires. I was able to save myself from him with the spirits’ help, but the memory of his ruthless words still lingered.

And now this ruthless man had led the conquerors of my clan. I shivered.

“When the Ookami had done their work, they left, taking whatever they liked from us,” Master Michio went on. “Who was left to stop them? We’ll have a hungry winter, but it won’t be the last one. When we harvest the rice we plant next spring, they’ll send warriors back to claim as great a share as they please.” He sighed. “We serve the Ookami now.”

I clenched my hands so tightly that the nails bit into my palms. “It isn’t true,” I said. “It can’t be. They defeated us, but we will not let them rule us. We will recover from this and cast them out of our lives. My kin are no one’s servants. Father, Aki, and Shoichi will rally our fighters and—”

“No, Himiko.” Master Michio’s voice broke with sorrow. “No more. No … no more.”

I could scarcely breathe. When I spoke, it was a hoarse whisper. “They are … gone?”

My teacher said nothing, made no sign. He let silence confirm the horrible truth. Bitter cold seeped through me from my skin to the marrow of my bones. I felt Kaya’s arm encircle my shoulders, though I hadn’t seen her move. I saw nothing. I was alone in a dark place, a land of awful shadows and taunting laughter.

Some time later, I realized that Kaya and I were by ourselves in Master Michio’s house. My friend still held me as a mother holds her drowsing child. I lifted my head from her shoulder slowly and looked around, confused.

“Where is Master Michio?” I asked. My voice sounded distant and fuzzy.

“He went out a little while ago,” Kaya answered.

“Did he? And without a word to us? How strange …”

“He tried speaking to you, but you didn’t hear him.” My friend’s eyes were sad. “I don’t think you could, after the shock he gave you.” She hugged me. “My poor Himiko. I wish I could have saved you from that.”

“I’m surprised it hit me so hard,” I said. “Our clan was attacked. Father is—was our chieftain, Aki and Shoichi were grown men. They’d be the ones leading our warriors against the enemy. What was I expecting to hear? That by a miracle they would all survive the battle unharmed?
I knew that was impossible, and yet”—a sigh shuddered through me—“and yet I still hoped for it. If that was wrong, the gods have taught me a hard lesson. Not one of them lives, not one.”

I got to my feet and looked down at Kaya. “Will you come with me?”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go home. I need to see what’s left. And then I must perform the rites for the spirits of my kin.”

“But it’s getting dark outside, and Master Michio told us to wait here,” Kaya protested.

“I’ve waited long enough. Come with me or stay behind, but I’m going.” I headed for the doorway.

I had just ducked my head and stepped outside when I stumbled into our clan shaman returning from his errand. He was not alone.

“Himiko?” My brother Masa looked like a ghost in the wintry twilight. It was too dim to see his expression, but his voice held a mixture of disbelief and joy. “Himiko, it
is
you! When Master Michio told me, I couldn’t believe—Oh, thank the spirits, you’re safe!”

I fell into his arms and clung to him, shaking. I felt that if I let go, a whirlwind would sweep in and carry him away from me too.

“What’s going on out there?” A gray-haired woman peered out of her nearby house and stared at us. A second house, this one with part of its roof gone, produced a young mother with a wide-eyed toddler on her hip. A grimy-faced little boy edged past her to get a better view. Before long a small crowd had formed around Masa and
me. They were mostly women, children, and the old. It was a comfort to find myself among the familiar faces of my clanfolk, but I mourned to see how few of these belonged to our young men, our nobles, our hunters, and all those who would have defended our village.

“It’s Lady Himiko!” someone shouted.

“Truly? Where’s she been?”

“I heard she got lost in the mountains.”

“Lost and eaten by wolves, that’s what I was told.”

“Huh. We were
all
eaten by wolves,” a glum voice declared, meaning the Ookami. “She looks like she came out of it better than we did.”

“Where have you been, Lady Himiko?”

A whisper hissed past me: “Does she know about her family? About her father and the rest?”