Oh, she seemed to say, even though there was no way Rui could hear through the distance.Hello.
The ghostly little girl, the one Prince Noyori had seen in the night.
She’s calling to me.
Suddenly, at the end of the path, she saw Nioh and his Jibashiri bodyguards racing toward the south gate.He’s going to them, Rui thought, strangely clear.He’s going to the demon.
She followed him.
Soon, she heard it. The clash of steel on steel, the heavy shouts of her master, and the wicked sounds of the wind over the trees. She heard a voice: “Stop!” And a second set of movements entered the fray.
The girl had vanished. As the battle raged around the temple and the fields beyond, Rui looked up, into the pale, midmorning sky.
And was shocked by what she saw.
Gods. The earthwalkers. The pilgrims. Giant, skeletal spirits converging, huge and monstrous, in the sky above the burning temple to the west. A ghostly hand, falling down from the height, covering the entire temple, its fingers like vast trees, blocking out the sun, making the sky go dark.
In that instant, Jobo found her. He grabbed her hand.
“What’s happening?” she cried, shaking. He held her, bringing her back to the gate, to safety.
“What do you see?”
“Giants.” She trembled. “Gods… the pilgrims…”
“They’re showing you they’re here.”
He sensed it, too. Rui never knew how he could sense things the gods did. He said, “They’re here because ofher.”
“Who?”
Another rain of arrows sliced the air around them, needling into men and dirt in the blink of an eye.
“Rui!” Jobo shouted. “Get up. Keep going. Keep going.”
They made their way through the gate, saw the prince and his last remaining guard had found their horses and were wheeling about, surrounded by men with spears. Kai and the sisters had gone in the other direction. Jobo practically carried her across the little horse-yard, and she saw the fear in his eyes. He shouted to pale young Atsu, who had Nioh’s son in her arms; a burly Jibashiri, whom they called Naoza, spun about, bringing Atsu and the boy with him as he fled.
They raced away, with the river and its temples to their backs, raced down the small path that led to the hillside, and east, to safety. It would bring them to the Onji tributaries and the main highway from Yamano.
But now Nioh cried out, trapped. As his son got away, he found himself surrounded near the stables. He brought his mount around, bodyguards defending him with their spears on horseback as they tried to buy some time.
“Prince,” Jobo shouted. “This way!”
A wooden fence collapsed; a new wave of Keishi spearmen flooded in. Nioh screeched in terror, as one by one, his remaining bodyguards were cut down by arrows and spear-thrusts or both.
“Run!” She found herself shouting. “Prince, flee! Flee!”
He yanked the reins at last, dashed off a side road, back into the temple complex, looking for another way. He went around a building and vanished.
Rui ran after him, turning in time to see an arrow catch the prince on the armpit, and she could do nothing but watch as he hung limp in his saddle, while his horse panicked and disappeared behind the prayer hall.
“No!” Her scream was lost amid the clamor of the fighting. Jobo shouted, “Hurry!” but she fell again – somehow, she managed to fall flat on her face for the second time and when she hauled herself up from the muck, her teacher was gone. He had dashed around the corner where Prince Nioh fell.
Another whistle cut the air. The battle was getting louder now. She went forward. Faster now. Faster. Worried it was too late, that the prince was dead.
At the far side of the avenue, the path where Nioh’s horse had gone, she found them. Jobo ran past a gap in the buildings, to a large open courtyard where festivals might have been held.
She saw him stop.
