The horses whinnied and panted, as though they were crying, too.
Three figures joined them in the shade of the hills above the barley plain. Kai tensed; the fear came back. Myorin gave a cry, half-greeting, half-sob: her father’s retainer, Kaji Getoh, appeared swift as a wraith in the half-light, his horse black as pitch. He’d lost his mask, his armor cut in many places: he looked like he’d been punched in the face.
Beside him, young Atsu helped the boy-prince, Nioh’s son, hold the reins of a second horse, pale, wide-eyed and full of fear.
Myorin didn’t need to tell them what had happened. Getoh sent one glance toward the temples and said, simply, “There are Keishi in these hills. We go.”
Kai looked back as they rode along the hillside; at the red and orange flames, the heat licking up into a cold morning sky thick with clouds.
We’re alive, she thought.We’re alive.She saw him fall again, arrows in his legs and back. She saw the look on Seichi’s face as he lifted the sword.
We’re alive.
Bloodied, battered, tired and soaked to the bones. Spattered with mud and gore. We’re alive, she thought,and they will pay for this.
They will pay.
They rode across the foothills, going east. They rode beside the field.The sun reached a peak. The clouds thinned. But Kai saw none of it. She saw only the flash of the blades, heard the sounds of screaming again.
She saw Shosei the Spear, and his brother Seichi, standing high and terrified, on the steps of the great hall.
She saw Seichi kneel, to take the sword from where it fell, by Yora’s bloodied hand.
It was too late.
Myorin gripped the reins of her horse, and they raced faster into the weak light, leaving the smoke and death and water rushing on behind them, and were gone.
CHAPTERFORTY-SIX
Rui
Rui landed hard on the cobblestones between the buildings. She shouted in frustration, and when she rose, a deep pain cut her heart, a pain so sharp, so sudden that it brought her to her knees.
The pain of her curse.
The pain of the angry god, Hososhi.
“What do you want?” she screamed.
Instead of an answer, she fell, seized by another shock, one that sent her doubling over, gasping for breath. An arrow whizzed past, struck the fencepost where her head had been. Keishi foot-soldiers flooded the grounds behind her. Another wave had come. Another arrow flashed, and missed.
Hososhi. She could feel the god reach out, taking her hands, her feet, moving her body as their own. Another arrow. Another. Again she felt the Hososhi in her blood. They guided her, wordlessly at first, and then, at once, she heard them:
Kill.
More soldiers arrived. The god – the demon – wanted blood.
Not yet, they whispered.Child, you’re not there yet.
She killed. And killed again. The anger grew. The more she killed, the stronger she became; the hungrier she was for blood.
You have a role to play.
Killer, killer girl.
Rage billowed from her. Her curse took over, and it feltgood.
As her teacher fought the demon on the roof.
