White Devil Mountain (43 page)

Tension surged into Iriya’s expression, and half of it still remained there as the beauty declared, “You’re on.”

At her carefree declaration, a cry of “Wow!” rose from the vicinity of D’s left hip. His lips hadn’t moved a bit.

“So,” she continued, “how do we play this?”

Her expression calm and with a hint of what could be called daring, the warrior woman was ready to accept D’s challenge.

II

The air whistled. But to be precise, just before that sound Iriya had leapt out of the sword’s way.

As she jumped a good ten feet, Iriya hurled the dagger from her hip with an underhanded scooping motion. Her dagger, sheathed with its hilt pointed down, had split in two down the middle the instant it’d been pulled from its scabbard.

There was a beautiful sound. As she landed, Iriya pressed the palms of her hands together in front of her chest. The handle of the dagger jutted from between them. D had batted the dagger away with his blade, and Iriya had stopped it cold.

Just as Iriya was about to reach for the sword on her hip with her right hand, the figure in black sailed over her head. Was he an angel or the Grim Reaper? The only thing that was certain was that his beauty was unearthly. There wasn’t so much as a hint of mercy in the stark glint slashing down at her. Iriya couldn’t even draw her sword.

Sparks flew. Right in front of Iriya was a visage so gorgeous a good look at it seemed likely to leave her in a stupor, and D narrowed his eyes ever so slightly—and backed off. Her eardrums pounded with the sound made when she’d parried D’s blade. The impact she’d felt through the dagger not only numbed her left arm from the wrist down, but the loss of feeling extended all the way up to the shoulder. Nevertheless, Iriya was reaching for the hilt of her sword with her right hand.

“That’s far enough,” the hoarse voice said. “Well, not bad for a woman. You made it through three of
this guy’s
attacks. Outstanding.”

Waiting a while after confirming that D had sheathed his blade, Iriya then took her hand away from her own hilt. She’d judged from the air about D that he had no intention of attacking again. She didn’t know what the result had been. Apparently this young man had the ability to erase all traces of even his ordinary presence the instant hostilities ceased. Was he a beautiful nothingness made solid? If he closed on someone while keeping his footfalls silent, they’d never notice till he’d run them through the heart.

“So, you’ll accept it then, won’t you?” Iriya asked, sweat rolling down her cheeks.

“Sure.”

“Good,” Iriya said with a carefree smile. “I’m sure my brother would be satisfied with his reward being paid to the world-renowned D. You have my thanks.”

And then she walked over to the dusty remains of the grave keeper, bent down, and grabbed a handful of hair before straightening up again. Handing it to D, she went back to the remains, put her left fist over the right side of her chest, and took a prayerful pose. The almost nonexistent evening breeze tossed her hair and the hem of the blazing red cape.

Ordinarily, D focused solely on his own activities, regardless of who else might be there or what their situation might be. In this case, he had to deal the coup de grâce to the Noble who slumbered in that mausoleum. However, at some point the sense of incongruity that wafted about the warrior woman with whom he’d done battle had suspended that course of action.

Before long, the girl turned in D’s direction. In the faint remaining light of day, the shadow of her hair stretched long and far across the ground. It no longer had the color of flame.

“The man they call D doesn’t need any help, I suppose?” she said, her expression composed and no sign of tears anywhere.

After watching the figure in crimson walk off a short distance to where her cyborg horse waited, D then turned toward the grave. A faint groan had reached his ears.

“Oh, it seems that rascal the viscount knows what we’ve got in store for him! He’s moaning about how he doesn’t want to die. Shouting at us to stay back.”

As the figure in black walked forward, the voice from the vicinity of his left hip continued, “But what I don’t get is that girl just now. She’s got the skill of a Hunter for sure, but what’s with her acting so cool and collected? That was her own brother she cut down! And she didn’t shed a single tear over it. Still, she doesn’t look cold blooded. The way she acted toward you, it was like she was just a plain ol’ farm girl dressed up for a costume party. Don’t see a lot of that type these days.”

“She gained something,” D fairly muttered. “She must’ve, for an ordinary girl to become a Hunter. But in exchange—”

“—she must’ve lost something, too, right?” the hoarse voice said, finishing the Hunter’s thought. “What that something was—does that interest you?”

D didn’t answer. If a million people knew him, every last one of them probably would reply that he had no interest at all in that topic. And they’d assert in unison that he’d never say so.

Passing through the entrance to the burial place, D vanished. Groans became sobs of fear, then the breathless huffing of the terrorized. And then—the screams of someone in their death throes.

–

Five days later, D was in Silver Strings Town. He was there to turn over a sample of the Noble’s DNA to the local sheriff and to collect the reward.

“Nice little payday for you, isn’t it?” the sheriff said venomously as D stuffed a thick wad of bills into his coat.

“We can trade places if you’d like.”

The sheriff shuddered, saying, “Don’t even joke about that. I’m happy just being the law in a hick town. They don’t pay me enough to take on the Nobility. It’s just—” He seemed to grow reflective, rubbing one arm before he continued, “I never thought I’d meet someone so good looking it made my hair stand on end. We’ve got hot springs here in town. What say you go have yourself a soak?”

“That’s real neighborly of you.”

The Hunter’s voice had changed so radically the sheriff could only stand there rooted and amazed as the young man in black walked toward the door.

“Between you and the woman who came in yesterday, I’d say Hunters these days are a pretty odd bunch.”

“A woman?” the hoarse voice inquired.

“Yep. Only she wasn’t cashing in on no Noble. It was a pair of thugs who’d jumped her. After putting ’em down, she finds out they’re outlaws with prices on their heads, you see. But that woman—actually,
girl
is closer to the truth—she really doesn’t look like the kind to be working as a Hunter. Sure is pretty, but she just seems like the kind of average folk you’d run into anywhere, and—”

“What’s her name?” the Hunter asked as he stood in the doorway, his back still to the lawman.

Knitting his brow a bit, the sheriff shortly replied, “I’m pretty sure it was Iriya. Say, are you a ventriloquist or something?”

Giving no reply, the Hunter stepped outside, where the hoarse voice from the vicinity of his left hip said, “Strange connection we’ve got here. Imagine meeting her here, of all places.”

“Does that interest you?” D asked in his own voice.

The hoarse voice cleared its throat, replying in a not-on-your-life tone, “Well, putting that aside for the time being, the sheriff did say something about a hot spring, didn’t he? Seems the waters have all kinds of stuff that does a body good. So long as it’s not running water, you should probably suck it up and give it a try. What do you say we go for a dip?”

D’s cyborg horse was tethered to a fence on the opposite side of the street. As he was crossing it, a trio of men coming from his left brushed past him.

“Hey!” the leftmost man shouted menacingly. “The corner of your coat hit me! Ain’t you got nothing to say about that?”

“Sorry, pal,” said a hoarse voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to the Hunter at all, but there was no mistaking the utter contempt in its tone.

“Are you screwing with us, you bastard?” the same man shouted, and all three of them surrounded D.

“Hey, mister—you don’t mind this, do you?” another said as he reached for D’s chest.

A heartbeat later the man’s wrist broke noisily, and as he was being flipped over, his elbow shattered. Since he hit the ground headfirst, he suffered a horrendous concussion as well as having a cervical vertebra dislocated.

The expressions of the other two changed, and as they shouted curses and reached for the swords on their hips, the hoarse voice said simply, “You’re gonna die,” and froze them on the spot.