The Night Parade (11 page)

“Hey, don't nag me! Not all of us have wings to catch us if we fall,” Saki muttered. She scooted closer to the edge and turned around to get a good foothold on the next rung. She tried to fix her attention on the cracks in the wall as she moved one foot after the other down the rickety bamboo ladder.

When all she could see overhead was the long shape of the tengu's nose poking over the wall, he called down to her. “Excellent work. Continue like this and you should be able to descend without detection.”

Saki missed a step and nearly stopped her own heart. “Detection?” she called back. “You said we would be fine going this way!”

“I said”—the tengu cleared his throat again—“that once inside the compound, we should have less conventional troubles.”

Saki's mouth went bone dry, but she forced down a heavy swallow. “So those giant bugs can get me up here?”

“The swarm will not pay attention to you here,” the tengu replied, his voice much closer.

Saki breathed a sigh of relief and turned her head to see the spirit circling the air next to her.

“Of course, they will ignore you because they expect other spirits to finish you off before you reach the ground… But do not let that discourage you!”

“Don't you think you should have told me that before I started?”

The tengu sailed lower and ignored the question. If she wasn't clutching the bamboo so hard, Saki would have reached out and plucked one of those inky feathers right off his back.

Every step down was a gamble against a sudden snap of bamboo. Every second wasted in hesitation was a gamble against being detected by terrifying spirits. She dug her nails into the ladder's rungs and tried to keep a steady pace.

With the squeaking and creaking of the bamboo, the howling of the wind, and the beating wings of the tengu, Saki didn't hear the clicking until the sound shook the sides of the ladder. Above her, packs of flat-shelled spirits descended in droves. They thrashed their front pincers and raked their barbed legs down the old bamboo as they came. They scuttled sideways, and their eyes poked out of their shells atop twig-like antennae. The crab spirits were not deterred by the creaking of the bamboo ladder. They swarmed over every surface until the structure sagged with their weight.

Against all the good advice she'd ever heard, Saki looked down. Another half of the ladder's length stretched out below her. There was no way she would make it to the bottom before the crabs caught up. Her hands were slick with sweat, and she lost her grip on the bamboo for a brief, breath-locking second. With all of her strength, she pushed her weight against the wall to keep her body from falling backward. As her fingers knotted together to secure her grip, she steadied herself.

“A little advice would be nice,” Saki called to the tengu, her voice shaking with panic.

“Move faster,” the tengu suggested. “Or face them in combat.”

“Oh, right.” Saki began to move again, clutching the rungs harder than she ever had before. “Since I have both hands free and all.”

Her sarcasm didn't impress the tengu, if he understood the concept at all. He flew lower and lower until Saki lost sight of him completely.

“A lot of help you've been,” she growled to empty air.

The tide of crabs was close enough for Saki to see the spikes protruding from their legs. They'd probably go for the hands first, then the face, then the rest of her… Saki shuddered and skipped a rung as the ladder whined and sagged closer to the wall.

The mass of darkened shapes on the ground were now distinct trees and garden paths. Just her luck. At the first sign that solid ground was near, Saki was out of time.

She closed her eyes as the first wave of crabs scuttled down the bamboo rails by her fingers. Their legs poked her skin and left prickles of pain down her arms, but none of them lingered, not even to tear at her with their pincers. When Saki opened her eyes, the crabs were already a dozen rungs below her.

She let go of the breath she'd been holding and tried to rein in the wild beating of her heart. With a thrust of his wings, the tengu flew up to meet her. She gave a shaky smile and leaned against the bamboo.

“Have you surrendered so easily, humanchild?”

“They didn't want to fight,” Saki said with a sigh of relief. “I guess my luck is catching up to me.”

The tengu's bloodred skin was livid. “Relaxation is the surest path to a swift defeat. You were not confronted because there are easier means of disposing of you. You have allowed the enemy a great tactical advantage by your negligence!”

Saki's puzzlement was interrupted by vibrations along the bamboo. The supporting poles buzzed as the ladder gently swayed from side to side.

Near the ground, the crabs had all gathered at one point. With their claws and their pincer jaws, they sawed at the bamboo. If they cut away enough of the ladder supports, the whole structure—and Saki along with it—would go tumbling down in a mess of splinters and shattered bones.

Saki bit back a curse. Working the muscles in her arms and legs furiously, she propelled herself down. She didn't need to get to the bottom, just close enough to jump to the ground without harm.

The ladder moved away from the wall, pitching her back. The bamboo fibers beneath her strained and cracked under the shifting weight. The sawing of the crab spirits stopped.

Every one of Saki's movements stopped too. Even if she commanded her arms and legs to work, there was no place to run.

The tengu dove past her. “Release the ladder before it falls and crushes you!”

With no option left but to follow orders, Saki released her grip on the bamboo. The tengu wheeled in the air and dove for another pass. He stretched out his claws to grab at her. In a single moment of clarity through her thundering panic, Saki reached out to him. Her fingers grasped at his clawed foot as he curled his toes around her wrist.

The tengu slowed her fall, but the sudden new weight on his wings spun them out of control. With a snap of feathers, they dropped a full three stories. Right before they hurtled to the ground, the tengu ceased flapping and extended his wings to their full length.

Tree branches rushed at Saki's face. The leaves and the supple branches spared her from the crushing force of the impact, but they didn't save her from a barrage of stinging welts and cuts. Once they tumbled to a halt, Saki held fast to a thick branch as the tengu struggled to free his wings from a tangle of twigs. Her feet dangled beneath her, the weight dragging her down. She dug deeper for the will to cling on, but her drained muscles spasmed in betrayal.

From within the canopy of tree branches, a multitude of beady eyes stared out at her. A sudden spike of energy rushed back into Saki's limbs. She half turned her head to look for the tengu without letting her sight stray from the shapes moving in the tree.

“How close are we to the ground?” she whispered.

The tengu swiveled his head to look at the same sea of eyes. “Falling would be unadvisable.”

Saki crawled backward along the branch, away from the center of the tree. The wood sagged, and she held on with all of her might. With one hand, Saki dug into her pouch for a marble.

With the black eyes came another horde of crabs. They moved in from every angle, up the base of the trunk and through the leaves at the end of the branches, until Saki and the tengu had no other exit. She pinched the marble between her fingers but hesitated to throw it. If she attacked the crabs, getting down the tree would still be a problem. If she used the marble to get down, the crabs might follow and attack anyway.

The flat piece of glass began to shift underneath her fingers. The marble inflated until her hand could no longer contain it.

“What are you doing?” demanded the tengu.

“I-I don't know!”

The marble popped out of Saki's grip, rolled onto the branch, and exploded.

She found herself falling for the second time. Dozens of crab claws snapped open and shut as Saki and the tengu, squawking out a battle cry, tumbled past them. She thrust out her hands and shut her eyes to brace for the impact of the ground, but her body gave a jerk upward.

She was covered with tiny, pearlescent bubbles. A few of the bubbles on her back had inflated like balloons to slow her fall. On the tree, crabs were falling from the branches, covered in the same foam of bubbles. These ones appeared to have stiffened, locking the crab joints in place.

As Saki floated closer to the ground, the bubbles inflated to cushion the landing. She hung on top of them for a split second before they popped, dropping her into the dirt next to a litter of immobilized crabs.

The tengu landed next to her and shook his feathers free from his own share of bubbles, which seemed to serve no function other than to annoy him. The rest of Saki's bubbles fell off when she stood, dissolving into thin air the moment they touched the earth. From her position on the ground, the tree and the wall both loomed impossibly high. A few paces behind her was the first of many disconnected shrine buildings.

“Let's not do that again,” Saki said.

“This was only the first obstacle,” the tengu warned her. “The paths through the shrine will present many challenges. Steel yourself for the trials ahead. We may be able to fool the less powerful spirits for a while, but we must each adopt a fitting disguise.”

The tengu's figure rippled. His robes and his armor softened into fuzzy black down. Each feather shook as his red nose hardened and shrank. He jumped into the air with a flip. When he returned, the barbaric figure was a small black bird. His red nose had transformed into a beak and a train of black feathers burst out at his tail, though his orange eyes remained as piercing as ever. He flapped in the air before resting his clawed feet on Saki's shoulder. She stared for a moment, then recalled that of the strange occurrences she'd witnessed in the last two days, this was one of the milder ones.

“Not bad. Unfortunately, they don't teach us that trick in junior high. We'll have to find my disguise in there somewhere.” She began to circle the small building. “Where's the door on this thing?”

“You shall not find a door here.”

“Of course not. That would be too easy.”

“We'll have to crawl beneath.” The tengu bobbed his head at the dark gap beneath the raised floor. “There is a hidden way that will deliver us to the compound's interior.”

“I was afraid you were going to say something like that.” Saki grimaced at the thought of crawling around in the dirt, but compared to dangling in the air at the mercy of a swarm of angry crabs, any form of solid ground was more than welcome. She rolled up her sleeves and bit her tongue.

After Saki pushed up a loosened tatami mat and let her eyes adjust to the light, she found herself in a storeroom piled high with chests and large pieces of covered furniture. She propped the mat against a wall and pulled herself up onto the floor. The tengu dug his bird claws into her shoulder and flapped his wings for balance, kicking up clouds of dust. Saki sneezed and coughed to clear her nose and throat, but her eyes itched fiercely, and she held her hand up to her mouth to filter the air as she breathed. When the clouds of dust settled, she took off her wooden geta and tucked them under one arm. She stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees as she took stock of the room.

The storeroom was lined with ceremonial weapons that had rusted all the way through. Stacks of chests were piled across the floor, with only a small path carved out as a walkway among the boxes. Saki sneezed again as the tengu appraised the items. He hopped off her shoulder and onto the top of a chest.

“We can use this room to outfit you properly. Everyone passing through the compound must display their rank and title through their dress. We must select something that will keep the inhabitants from asking too many questions. Open that chest there, on your right.”

Saki cracked the lid open and saw nothing but silk shoes. “There're some sandals in here. Should I pick out some slippers to wear inside?”

“Why not use the pair underneath your arm?”

“But these are—” Saki grabbed the wooden geta to show him, but they had changed their shape and become two thin house slippers. The shadow straps still arched from the base, which was now soft and pliable.

“Quickly,” the tengu said. “We do not have time to dawdle. Put those on and open the next chest.”

Saki dropped the shadow-strapped slippers to the floor and slid her feet back inside. She opened the next chest along the wall and pulled the tip of a glistening feather robe from the top of the pile. The material was opaque, lighter than anything Saki had ever worn. The tengu hopped closer and clicked his beak.

“No, those are far too flamboyant. Such fine robes surely belong to spirits of very high standing. If you are mistaken for one of them or accused of stealing, you will have quite a deal of trouble. Try another chest,” the tengu said. “We want not to be seen. You need something to make you invisible.”

Saki replaced the feathered robe with a sigh. Her fingers lingered on the softness even as she began to close the lid. To quell her disappointment, she flipped open the next chest.

“Oh yes, these will do!” The tengu perched on the mouth of the chest and peered down at the stack of straw cloaks packed inside. Saki pulled out the top cloak, and the woven straw rustled and scratched against her skin.

She raised an eyebrow. “This? They'll hear me coming before they even see me. This is hardly invisible.”

“Just wait and see for yourself. Wrap the cloak around your shoulders and pull it over your head,” the tengu instructed.

“If you say so…” Saki put on the cloak but didn't feel any stealthier. “Like this?”

“Excellent.” He hopped onto her shoulder and nestled himself into the straw until he was nothing more than the tip of a red beak poking out from her shoulder. “Now you are ready to proceed.”

Saki found the storeroom door, pulled the sliding screen, and poked her head into the corridor beyond. It stretched out both ways, without an end in sight. The halls seemed to be deserted, and a number of doors dotted the walls on each side. At the tengu's urging, Saki stepped out onto the wooden floor of the compound.

“This part of the compound is very far from the main shrine, so the security will not be as stringent. Only lower officials frequent these areas. You can relax for the moment, but do not allow yourself to become careless.”

Saki set off in the direction of the great castle she'd seen far at the end of the walls. As she walked, she passed identical doors, hallways, and courtyard openings. Everything looked the same, and there was no way to tell how far or how long they'd been walking. Saki's legs began to tire, and even with the cushioning of the shadow slippers, her feet were getting sore. She tried to move faster, but the hurry only earned her labored breaths and a roll of sweat down her back where the straw cloak scratched at her skin. When she couldn't take the endless monotony anymore, Saki slowed down to catch her breath.

The tengu poked at her shoulder with his beak. “What are you doing? We've not even begun to breach the middle compound.”

“How long does this hallway go on? I feel like I've been walking for hours.” Saki took a seat on the floor. “I need a little break, okay?”

“This is completely out of line!” the tengu protested. “You cannot linger in the middle of the corridor. What if someone were to catch you idling about?”

A few dozen paces down the hallway, one of the identical doors flung open. A pair of dogs wearing court clothes stood at the doorway, propped up on their hind legs like courtiers, with tall, square hats perched between their ears.

“Aha!” one dog spirit cried. “We heard someone making noise out here while Her Ladyship was trying to sleep!”

Saki stood up with a start. Their billowing scholars' robes blocked the path deeper into the complex, and from the way their jaws were set, it looked as though they had no intention of moving. Saki bowed and tried to appear apologetic. This was the last thing she needed.

“I-I'm sorry, I thought these rooms were empty,” she said. “I didn't know anyone was trying to sleep. If you just let me pass, I promise it won't happen again.”

The dog spirits glanced at one another. One with crooked ears stroked his shaggy beard. They both leaned in to examine her.

“Unacceptable. Her Ladyship is deeply upset. Losing sleep will surely irritate her beyond measure,” said the crooked-eared spirit.

The other, a pointy-eared spirit, nodded along in agreement. “If you truly wish to repent, you must pay Her Ladyship the courtesy of a visit.”

They both hurried to Saki's side and took her arms in their paws. “Her Ladyship will be pleased to invite you to tea!”

“Tea?” Saki tried to struggle, but the dog spirits were too strong. “I'd really prefer to just write a note or something. I'm sure a court lady doesn't want to see someone as boring as me…”

The tengu hissed in her ear: “You should have listened. I told you there were dangers along these halls. Now attend to your obligations.” He burrowed back into her straw cloak without another word.

As annoying as the delay was, the dog spirits didn't look like they were any danger to her. The lady of theirs, however, was another matter. As the spirits pushed her into the room off the corridor, Saki braced herself for the worst.

Far from the dusty storeroom, Her Ladyship's living chambers spoke to the elegance of her station. An extensive collection of folding screens in many colorful designs littered the room. After closing the door and barring Saki's escape, the two dog spirits hurried to the corner and began to prepare a pot of tea.

Behind one of the folding screens, Her Ladyship yawned and shuffled. She poked her head out from the top and turned a pair of dark, human-like eyes on Saki.

“Oh my…I haven't had company in such a long time.”

Her Ladyship's skin was pale white and her hair as dark as the night sky, the glossy locks arranged in a simple style on top of her head, though a few stray hairs had escaped their bonds and floated just above the chignon's sleek curve. The lady smiled with lips as red as camellia blossoms.

“Come in, child,” she said. “You hide under that dreadful straw mat, but I can see you are truly a very pretty child. Come behind the screen and join me. Though I'm afraid I'm still a little disarrayed from my nap.”

Saki bowed and walked around the lady's screen to meet her. She stopped so suddenly that she nearly toppled forward to the floor. Her Ladyship's head continued to smile, but her body lay several screens away, connected to the head by a long, curving neck that twisted like a snake across the room.

Behind Saki, one of the dog spirits gave a little cough. Her Ladyship's smile faltered. The floating head turned and began to wail.

“Oh, she can't stand the sight of me! Am I such a pitiful creature? What a wretch I have become!” The head cried and cried, but the hands on her faraway body were unable to wipe her tears.

“Oh no, Your Ladyship! Do not weep! It is only a wretched child we found huddled on the doorstep. We thought it might bring you some amusement.” One of the dog spirits jumped up with a silk handkerchief to dab at the water flowing down Her Ladyship's cheeks. “How is it to understand your lamentable circumstance?”

Her Ladyship sniffled and composed herself. Her lower lip still quivered, but she looked down over her high cheekbones at Saki. “Yes, of course. I forgive you for your ignorance, dear child. If you do not find my appearance too revolting, please sit and speak with me over a cup of tea.”

Saki bowed again, but she kept her gaze fixed on the tatami mat floors as she replied, lest she spark another round of tears from staring too long at the lady's unnatural neck. “Thank you very much, my lady. I'm very sorry if I offended you.”

“Not at all,” Her Ladyship replied, though her strained smile told a different story. “Please, take a seat on one of my cushions.”

Saki pulled a little round cushion from the corner and sat as demurely as she could. The tengu rustled under her straw cloak.

“My dear, what is that under your hood?” Her Ladyship asked.

Saki fidgeted, unsure of what to say. The tengu, in his bird guise, popped his head out of the straw and surveyed the room.

“He's my friend,” Saki answered, wringing the hem of her shirt underneath her cloak.

Her Ladyship smiled. “How lovely. I do enjoy a tune from a songbird. Sing for us, sweet songbird. I would be delighted to listen to your beautiful voice.”

The tengu pulled himself all the way out of Saki's cloak. He dropped to the floor and gave Saki a glare of annoyance.

“He…uh, he can't sing,” Saki replied. “He lost his voice.”

Her Ladyship frowned. “Oh, how unfortunate. I do hope he finds it again soon. I lose so many things, with my hands down there and my eyes up here. It surely is a great inconvenience.”

The lady's two dog spirit attendants brought out teacups and a plate of bean paste sweets.

“One cup for the little bird as well,” Her Ladyship called, and another cup was brought out for the tengu.

Saki touched the cup to her lips with care, but instead of the fresh, piping hot tea she'd expected, the liquid was lukewarm and flavorless. She tried to smile, so as not to offend the lady, and choked a mouthful down.

Her Ladyship inhaled the scent of the tea with the greatest anticipation. She was unable to pick up the cup with her hands, her body being three screens down, but she sipped against the edges the way a giraffe might drink from a pond.

“Delicious!” Her Ladyship licked her lips. “Simply exquisite. I can't believe the others complain about these bountiful gifts we have received.” She leaned close to Saki to share her gossip. “They say that on the first night of the Parade, a she-fox sneaked into the shrine and stole the granary key. Everyone is so upset, claiming there's an offering shortage or some such nonsense. I taste this tea and simply cannot believe a word. How much do you like it?”

Saki nodded and took another sip. The tea slid down her throat and left an oily residue in her mouth. “It's good,” she lied. “You, um, said there was a fox last night? Did anything else happen? I mean, she must be in a lot of trouble.”

“Oh, certainly!” Her Ladyship's eyes lit up. “That fox has been lurking around for years. She tramps through the forest with those tree spirits from outside the walls. Of course, we are all unique in our own ways, but those kinds of spirits are simply not refined enough to mix with proper shrine spirits. You understand, I'm sure. There are boundaries that one must adhere to. I cannot thank the New Lord enough for strengthening the wall to keep our way of life pure. Ever since he took over, everything has been so easy.”

“Do you mean the Midlight Prince?” Saki asked, readjusting her legs on the cushion. She wanted to know more about the great castle at the center of the shrine.

Her Ladyship screeched with laugher. “Not at all! The prince has never involved himself with the business down below. He has a much higher vocation. The New Lord has told us many times to allow him peace.”

“Would it be difficult to ask for an audience? With the prince, I mean.”

“An audience? My dear, no one sees the prince. As I said, he is far too busy.”

“What if it was something really important? Like life or death.”

Her Ladyship frowned. “My dear, you must learn to snuff out such fantasies. You should put your energies into becoming a more refined courtier. Daydreams and idleness will not be rewarded in the least.”

Saki abandoned the topic and picked up one of the bean paste sweets. The insides of the crushed beans had turned green, and the paste stank like overripe fruit. Saki waited until Her Ladyship was distracted with her tea to slip the sweet under the billowing curves of a nearby cushion.

“Now,” Her Ladyship began, savoring every word. “I suppose you are dying to hear of my tragic life.” She continued before Saki had a chance to respond. “It began when I was but a young spirit, during one of my first Night Parades…”

Saki learned very little from Her Ladyship's tale, except for the fact that Her Ladyship was an insufferable gossip whose neck had grown long from her habit of eavesdropping on conversations that did not concern her.

“Yes, it is shocking, I know. Life takes one down so many unexpected roads.”

Saki blinked desperately in an effort to stay awake when a knock shook the door that led out to the great hallway.