Rui attacked again, stabbing the demon in the shoulder – and again, the woman seemed not to feel it; again, Rui received the wound instead. Her shoulder burst with blood, and she cried out. Sen called to her, tried to help, but Rui shouted, “Run! Sen! Run!”
The demon stood above her. Knocked the sword away. Gazed into her eyes. Like peering through her heart.
She heard a bell. A roar. The Hososhi, raging in her veins—
She moved. Rage took her again. Drawing back, she dove for her fallen sword with the Hososhi’s laughter ringing in her ears.
You have a role to play.
She fell out of herself again. Somehow, the god took over. Wrenching her away, gone, lost to the world. And the Hososhi, eager as a glint of knives under the moon. Blood in air; she felt nothing.
The demon closed in.
Rui struck a glancing blow to the wrist, and her own wrist shuddered with blood.
I can’t attack.The thought came hazily, as if through smoke. She wasn’t in control. She couldn’t think. She’d almost cut off her own hand. The Hososhi in her spirit roared.
Rui blinked.
She gasped, fell back, facing the demon.
The woman stood, looking down, as if she’d never moved.
Rui fought against it, but what hope did she have in the face of a god? “What do you want?” she cried.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
Rui staggered, struck by something she couldn’t see, pain cascading through her, unable to move, unable to protect herself, pain like fire—
“I would have let you live, child,” the demon said. “You should not have gotten in the way.”
She took a step.
Then Jobo’s sacred spear whistled through the darkness, stabbed itself into the dirt between them, her and the demon, blocking the path. The crow monk appeared a moment later, standing before her with his arms out.
“Onryo,” he bellowed. “Keep back!”
The woman stopped, mid-step. Unable to pass the spear.
Staring at her, he shouted, “Rui! Sen! You must run! Do it now!” But Rui barely heard him. Gasping, still, in shock and pain. Sen came for her. Jobo spoke. She heard no words. She heard a crash like lightning, the world flared, and everything went bright. The next she knew, they were running, faster than seemed possible. Jobo had taken her into his arms, and Sen was clinging to his back. He leaped, thundering, huge flying steps and the woods blurred past. His hand gripped hers.
Then they were at the temple gate, the one that had been ablaze –
everything felt hazy now, like the world was melting; they passed the barrier, he pulled them across, and stabbed the sacred spear into the ground before the gate, barring entry to evil beings.
And stood, muttering a prayer with his hands clasped, his body stiff, as though holding some great tide at bay through force of will.
“Whatwasthat?” Rui gasped, tried to stand, but the world tilted away from her, and she was left in darkness for an infinite, splitting moment, until she hit cold dirt and was in the temple once again. Head spinning, she tried to rise; fell again.
Heard the Hososhi in her heart, and saw:
A bridge over raging water –
A temple gate –
Three wells in the middle of a garden –
Sen, on a boat, sail rising high –
