“Oh?” Jobo’s voice had a high, hooting quality, as though everything was a jest. “Good. But don’t go stealing your tutor’s books!”
“I’m trying to learn about magic,” Sen said. “Yozora won’t go near it.”
“Magic,” Jobo mused.
“You know who I am,” Sen said.
Jobo’s smile fell. “I do.”
“Well, I know who you are, too… I know what people say.”
“Oh? And what is that, star-child?”
“They say you can do magic. They say you summon gods.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Jobo said, and moved on.
“Master,” he began.
“Ame’in,” Jobo replied politely, “I am not your master.”
Sen followed him down the curve of the temple path. Evening birds were singing. “They say you speak with them,” he said. “You can summon ghosts. The little gods, the spirits, you bind them to a paper curse and they have to do what you say.”
“Is that what they’re saying in Kitano,” the crow monk mused.
“They say you raise them, bound to your seals… you conjure them.”
“No.” Jobo stopped, abruptly. “Calling a god to be your servant is dangerous. Shikigami… they are all dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because no being, human or god, should be a slave. Observing good and evil within people is one thing. We all have both violent and tranquil souls. Tell me, Hoshiakari, you have a teacher. The old servant of your family, Yozora. He cares for your education. Yet you resist him. And, at the same time, you break into his rooms. You steal his books. Why not be content? Why break away? Hm? What is it that you want?”
“I want to know more about my family,” Sen said.
Jobo shrugged. “Your father started the war that led to his death and the exile of his surviving family members. Perhaps there was some illmagicin that.” He poked his long nose forward. “You’re saying that is who you are?”
“But… that’s not the truth,” Sen said. “And anyway, I’m not like that. That’s not me.”
“Good,” Jobo said, and nodded: good day.
“I know what people say about my family,” Sen called out. “People say we’re evil.”
“You don’t have to be,” Jobo said, lightly.
“Train me.”
Jobo looked at him, face blank as a cloud. “Why?”
“My mother wants me to train with you.”
Jobo laughed.
“You asked me what I wanted,” Sen said. “The truth is… I hate my father. He’s the reason I’m here, the reason we were outcast, hunted down, and killed…”
“You think your father was a coward and a selfish man who only wanted to take the power he saw others have.” Jobo waited.
“Why should we be outcast?” Sen asked. “Because of something that happened almost before we were born?”
