Page 3

CHAPTER TWO

At the top of the hill, Ryuichi reined his horse. His throat went dry. When Mikito had told him that they were heading for a school in Iga, the last thing he’d expected was for that school to be housed inside a giant castle.

He’d been expecting a modest dōjō or a smaller castle, like the one he’d just left.

Never in his life had he seen a fortress so intimidating or beautiful.

Of course, he’d never seen any other than Hiero-san’s, which had been small and very circumspect.

But this...

Besides being massive, it rose up from the stone base like an elegant beast. “It looks like a siege of herons in flight.”

Mikito laughed beside him as he reined his black stallion. “It’s supposed to.”

The white plaster walls glistened in contrast to the high-arched black roofs. Gold sparkled in the fading sunlight from the carvings that decorated each joint, and the two large dragons poised on top as if they were taking a rest.

Or guarding it.

Truly, no other castle could be so beautiful. “What’s it called?”

Mikito grinned at him. “Mahō-jō.”

Castle of Sorcery? A wave of foreboding swept through Ryuichi. “Pardon?”

Mikito didn’t respond as he kicked his horse forward.

And as he did so, Ryuichi saw the dragons on top of the roof move.

They looked straight at him.

No...

It wasn’t possible. Just a trick of the light. It had to be. Stone dragons didn’t move.

They couldn’t look at him.

Dragons weren’t real.

Yet as he followed the others, Ryuichi noticed that the stones they rode on were sparkling beneath the hooves of their horses. They literally glistened in the fading sunlight.

Takara moved to ride beside him. “They’re judging your heart, Ryuichi. Be glad they’re lighting up.”

“Pardon?”

Ryuichi heard a sharp cry behind them. He turned in his saddle to see one of the men burst into a deep crimson cloud of smoke.

He stared in shock.

“Treachery isn’t tolerated here,” Takara quickly explained. “A black heart is instantly punished. That’s what happens when the stones don’t greet you.” She met his gaze and sighed. “Always mind your thoughts, Ryuichi. Keep them where they need to be.”

He didn’t speak as the now riderless horse raced past them through the entrance gate.

It was followed by three more.

He took another look at the roof and saw the dragons perched there flutter their wings and settle back down. They were alive, even though they were made of stone and gold.

Mikito laughed at his gaping stare. “No fear, Ryuichi. They’re protectors. Like the stones beneath our horses’ hooves.”

“I don’t understand.”

Takara jerked her chin toward the dragons, which now looked completely lifeless and gray. “This is just the first step. Our school,” she continued, “is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Here warriors are made, and your heart will be tested in ways you cannot imagine.”

Ryuichi swallowed. “And if I fail?”

Mikito pointed to the stones around them. “You’ll become part of our defenses. One way or the other.”

It was only then that Ryuichi realized there were shadow faces in each stone—and most of them were frozen in terror. Worse, he could actually hear the whispered agony of those buried deep inside the stonework.

Help me...

A chill went down his spine.

I didn’t agree to this...

But then he’d never really agreed to much of anything. His life had never been his own. From the moment he’d been taken in, he’d had others telling him everything from how to dress, what to eat, to what to say.

Where to sleep.

Hattori Hanzō had spoken, and Hiero had simply given him Ryuichi. No one had said a word. He was sure no one even noticed he was gone.

And now he was here, in Iga.

Be the rock.

The rock held fast to where it was. It was grounded and steadfast. Others took action, or action was taken against them. But the rock...

It was what people beat themselves against, in futile attempts to defeat it. It took the blows and remained what it always was. Unchanged. Unwavering. Indefatigable.

Invincible.

I am the rock. I will always be the rock.

Ryuichi murmured the words as the Hattori siblings led him through the first gate and onto a series of paths that seemed to be going away from the castle.

“Why is Mahō-jō behind us when we’re supposed to be heading toward it?” he asked.

Mikito appeared right beside him, seemingly out of thin air. “Illusion,” he explained. “Illusion, distraction, and a keen mind are the tools of a shinobi.”

Takara appeared to his left. “You will learn them all, and more.”

Would he? Or would he become a brick on the ground for others to ride over?

I don’t want to be a brick . That wasn’t the same as being a rock. A rock was the metaphor he chose.

Those shining, sparking things under his horse’s hooves...

They were terrifying. And all too real.

Yet that was the cost of failure, and he’d always been a screwup. Even when he hadn’t been, somehow he’d failed. Success was always his most elusive dream.

Like family.

Panic began to swell inside at the reality that his usual luck would hold, but he tamped it down. It was an honor to be chosen.

He’d always wanted to be wanted.

Not as a brick, you didn’t.

Shush, mind. I need to think . And the panicked voice in his head wasn’t doing anything other than making him want to turn his horse about and run from here.

As if he had anywhere else to go.

You are Ryuichi.

This was a new start. A new place.

He wasn’t going to become another screaming brick to warn others...

I will change my fate . The Hattoris had seen something in him, and he would honor their faith. Prove himself to them.

His parents were warriors, and he would do them proud.

Just as they crossed through the second gate, they began heading toward the castle again.

In spite of all the scary things he was facing, it was beautiful to behold.

Amazed by his surroundings, Ryuichi didn’t say another word until they reached the large, clean stable. Dismounting, he watched as Takara placed her reins over a disembodied stone hand mounted on a stall.

It closed instantly to hold the horse in place.

Gasping, Ryuichi took his horse to one of the other hands and touched the rough, cold stone carving. How could it have ? —

The hand closed around his.

With a sharp cry, Ryuichi jumped back.

Mikito laughed as he clapped him on the shoulder. “No fears. They don’t bite. Worse thing they can do is hold you in place until you miss your dinner. But don’t worry. They usually get bored by dawn and let you go.”

Ryuichi wasn’t so sure about that. There was something very eerie about those hands. Something eerie about this whole place. “What kind of yōkai are these?”

“Benevolent.” Mikito showed him how to correctly place his reins in the stone palm. “Most yōkai here are good to have around.”

He didn’t like the sound of that.

At all. “Most?”

Mikito saw his expression and grimaced. “Some... have attitudes.”

Great. It wasn’t bad enough he’d been picked on by the boys at his old school. Now he had worse pests to contend with.

Belligerent yōkai. Just what he’d always wanted.

Like a hole in his head.

“How many yōkai are we talking?”

Takara joined them and grinned so wide that her dimples flashed. “Enough to ensure no one ever threatens our castle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

She squeezed his arm. “Pay attention, Ryuichi. Once you find your place here, you’ll understand.”

That made no sense to him whatsoever.

But before he could say another word, Hanzō-san came up to them. “Miki, show the boy to the yellow barracks. Make sure he has a uniform and is ready to begin his training tomorrow.”

Mikito snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”

Ryuichi waited until the samurai had gone, and they were alone again. “Yellow barracks?”

Takara nodded. “It’s where everyone begins. In the center, where you can be grounded and learn your ki. Once you master the basics, you’ll be assigned to one of the other dōjōs, and then another, and you’ll keep going until you’ve learned all five principles of the Godai.”

“If you’re lucky,” Mikito whispered.

A chill went down Ryuichi’s spine. He knew he should probably ask about that, but he was more intrigued by this Godai . “What are the five principles?”

Mikito pointed at the white tiger embroidered on his sleeve. “Each of the five is its own dōjō, and you’ll wear the mon of the one you belong to.”

Ryuichi looked to see a vermilion bird mon on Takara’s sleeve. Obviously, she was in a separate dōjō from her brother. “How are we assigned our dōjōs?”

They led him from the stable. “You’ll earn your place. The beginning level is yellow.” Takara pointed to a building with a blue roof. “Azure Dragon is where you’ll go after you master everything your sensei has to teach about standing your ground and centering your focus. The next level after azure is mine, Vermilion Bird.”

Mikito took over. “Once you’ve mastered everything in those practices, you’ll become a White Tiger, like me.”

Takara shoved him. “You know, I was a White Tiger too. Until the accident we won’t discuss right now.”

“So you can lose ranking too?” Ryuichi felt sick.

They both nodded.

Mikito pointed to a black-roofed building on their left. “That’s the dōjō you really want to be in.”

Ryuichi arched a brow. “Why? What’s so special about that one?”

Mikito’s tone turned reverent. “Black Tortoise. They’re the best warriors we have. And there’s only six of them.”

Takara snorted. “But they’re a snotty bunch. Think they’re too good to mingle with the rest of us.”

Surprised by that, Ryuichi paused to stare at the building. There was something about it that set the hair on the back of his neck to full attention. An eeriness about it as if it were something to be avoided.

But before he could speak, a plant to his left reached out for him.

Takara pulled him back and slapped at the bright green leaves. “Careful. Some of the plants here can be vicious, especially this close to ōmagatoki.”

ōmagatoki ... the dreadful time at dusk when the moon god, Tsukuyomi, was so close to catching up to his wife, Amaterasu, the sun goddess, that it caused the veil between this world and the spirit world to blend together and become thin. So thin that the yōkai and others could cross between realms.

Ryuichi had heard these stories all his life—about how the great goddess Haruka had been created to guard the gates between the realms during the ōmagatoki.

But due to treachery and betrayal, she’d fallen and left a sliver open that no one could close. Now, not even the niō, inari, koma-inu, or other guardians could hold back the countless demons intent on infecting the mortal world. It was why all of Japan was in chaos and disorder—because this evil was leaking in, and there was no way to keep it out.

No way to seal the barrier Haruka had once protected so zealously.

He wasn’t sure if he believed that or not. It made a good ghost story. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

Mikito sucked his breath in sharply. “Yes, we do. And you will, too, after you see some of the things we battle.”

“But,” Takara warned, “ōmagatoki isn’t the worst. Ushi mairi is when you must make sure that you’re safe in your room.”

The hours between one and three in the morning. “Why?”

Mikito lowered his voice as if afraid of being heard. “The worst oni come out, and they are looking for easy prey.”

Takara nodded in agreement. “Don’t be that easy prey, Ryuichi.”

He didn’t plan on it any more than he planned on being an oni’s lunch. But then he hadn’t planned on any of this either.

Sadly, life had a way of taking him places he had no desire to go.

The three had reached the yellow barracks. Takara opened the door for him.

Ryuichi hesitated. Inside were at least fifty other students, all dressed in yellow kimonos. “Are some of them yōkai?” he whispered.

Or, with his luck, something far worse.

Mikito shook his head. “They come from all over Japan. Like you, they’re here to study and hone their skills.”

And with that, the two of them left him alone with these strangers.

Ryuichi didn’t like the feeling of being so exposed. Of all the others staring as if he were some kind of unwanted yōkai beast.

Suddenly, he wished himself invisible again. Funny how he’d never appreciated that ability before. Now it seemed like a superpower.

One he wanted back desperately.

The full weight of his isolation struck him hard.

A boy walked over and bowed in front of him. He was unlike anyone Ryuichi had ever seen. His skin was pale and freckled, his eyes a bright green. Even stranger, he had short, curly red hair. He smiled as Ryuichi bowed. “I know what you’re thinking. Everyone stares at me because of how different I look. I’m Kato. My father’s Sir Walter.”

One of Oda Nobunaga’s famed retainers. Ryuichi knew the story well, as it was whispered often among those around his old home. Sir Walter had come from Europe as a trader. But he’d proven himself as an invaluable translator and warrior for Nobunaga. So much so that the great Nobunaga had made him a samurai and given him lands to rule. That was what Nobunaga was known for. He thumbed his nose at tradition, shocking those who followed and protected the rules of the past.

That was what Ryuichi loved best—that Nobunaga didn’t care what anyone thought. He followed his own path, regardless of criticism. Regardless of enemies.

Oh, to have that kind of strength.

That kind of confidence.

Ryuichi couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

“Kato is one of the best archers we have.” Another boy moved to bow in greeting. He was almost as tall as Ryuichi. With deep-set eyes and a square chin, he had a pleasant smile. “I’m Jiro.”

Ryuichi bowed to them both. “Nice to meet you.”

Jiro motioned him toward the far wall. “There’s an open bed next to Pim. But he doesn’t talk much.”

“Pim?” He frowned at the unusual name.

Jiro leaned forward to whisper. “His father’s also from Europe.”

“I’m Dutch.”

Ryuichi gasped as the boy appeared at his side. But that wasn’t as startling as his curly white hair and vibrant blue eyes that rivaled a summer sky for their color. And his skin...

Never had Ryuichi seen anyone so very pale. “What’s Dutch ?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “I’m from the West. A place called the Netherlands.”

The two bowed to each other.

Again, it was well known that Nobunaga didn’t follow traditional Japanese customs that required samurai come from the bravest families. He made samurai and warriors out of all manner of people, including peasants.

Another thing Ryuichi had been mocked for at his old school, as many of the boys there had sworn his father was a peasant, hence why no one knew his father’s name.

But Ryuichi knew better. One of his father’s retainers had brought him there as an infant and spoken up on his behalf. Peasants didn’t have servants.

His father had been a noble lord. He knew it with everything he had.

“I’m Ryuichi.”

Pim gestured toward the far wall. “Come, Ryuichi. I’ll show you the open bed.”

As he followed, he noted that the other students seemed just as friendly.

Because they don’t know that you have no family.

True. Everyone was kind until they learned he was nothing special.

Had Hiero been anything other than a man and samurai of honor, Ryuichi would have been cast out, just as Yoshi-sensei had so often threatened to do.

Sighing with regret, he placed his clothes and meager belongings in a small chest at the head of his futon.

As soon as he settled his things, a fierce wind blew through all the windows. The lanterns and candles went out.

Darkness consumed the barracks.

A terrifying laugh rang around them. “Dragon, dragon, shadow’s night. Come to me, my master’s tyke!”

“Tengu,” Pim whispered as he helped Ryuichi find his way through the darkness.

“Here, chicky, chicky, chicky...” The tengu’s words sounded like a slashing blade. The sound of wings echoed around them.

Ryuichi tried to see Pim in the darkness, but he could only make out the faintest outline of his body. “What do we do?”

The others formed a circle.

More sounds came from outside. The scurrying of feet and the sound of steel.

“Rout the beast!” adult voices cried. “Drive him out!”

Ryuichi tilted his head as the tengu kept calling, trying to lure his prey. Oddly, something inside him was pulled toward the creature, but he refused to give in.

Suddenly, the lights came back on. All the candles and lanterns lit themselves without any help from a human hand.

“There, now. Much better.”

He turned to see an attractive woman in the middle of the barracks. Tall and slender, she had long black hair braided over one shoulder and a thin face with a pointed chin, reminiscent of a fox. But what surprised him most was the fact she was dressed in a yellow kamishimo, complete with the hakamashita and matching umanori hakama and black kataginu. Her sleeves were embroidered with a gold dragon in a way that made it appear as if the dragon was wrapped around her body. “Don’t worry, students. We have others who will handle the tengu. Is everyone all right?”

The boys rushed to stand at the foot of their beds before they bowed to her.

Assuming he should do likewise, Ryuichi moved to stand where he still had his pack on the floor.

As graceful as a bird, the lady approached him slowly. “So you’re my new pupil. Another foundling to be trained.” She stopped in front of him and took his chin into her cold hand so that she could examine his features. “You look familiar to me. Who’s your father?”

Ryuichi flinched at the question he loathed more than anything. Now the others would know.

And they would shun him.

“I don’t know, Sensei,” he said politely. “He was killed in battle and his name forgotten.”

Her eyes narrowed for an instant, so quick he could have imagined it, before a kind smile curved her lips. “Then we will be your family, Mahōtsukai Ryuichi.” She glanced around to the other students. “Is that not right?”

“Yes, Sensei,” the others said in unison.

Ryuichi wanted to believe they agreed with her, but experience had taught him otherwise. What people said and what they did were seldom the same.

“Kasumi!”

She turned at the sharp call.

A tall warrior stood in the doorway, eyeing them all. “Are all your students here?”

“They are,” she replied.

“Good. Keep them indoors while we expel our unwanted guests.” The door closed behind him, and he was gone.

Jiro scratched his head. “What’s going on, Sensei?”

“They say the Ryukage has sent his agents out to locate what has been hidden from him.”

“ Here ?” Pim asked.

She nodded soberly. “They’ve been searching everywhere. For years. It was only a matter of time before they made their way to our walls.” She glanced about. “It’s a dark night, children. Best you get in your beds while we fortify our wards and make sure to seal the walls from those who would harm you.”

Jiro bowed to her. “We will be careful.”

She turned to leave—and, to his shock, Ryuichi realized she was a kitsune from the small fox tail that peeped out from beneath her kimono.

Oddly, no one else seemed to notice. Perhaps they were used to it.

What other surprises were waiting at this school?

* * *

The demon Kagi drew back as a sorcerer’s blast barely missed him. He wanted to return fire, but his orders had been simple: Find the scent of the Ryukage’s heir.

He’d found it, all right. Then lost it.

“Where are you?” This school was the last place he’d caught a whiff.

Now...

There was nothing.

If he didn’t find the right brat, Ryukage would disembowel him.

Haruki pulled up alongside him. As usual, her long, white hair was worn in a taregami, with a band of red fabric flowers keeping her hair from her face. Her skin was as white as her hair, and not because of cosmetics. That was her natural skin tone, as were the red eyes that made everyone around her uncomfortable.

Even demons.

And she was the last creature he wanted to face. “Well?”

He started to lie, but it would be useless. One of the witch’s worst powers was the ability to know whenever someone lied to her. And since lying was one of his best abilities, it always put him at a disadvantage whenever he dealt with her, as she was the one and only creature he couldn’t bluff. “I lost the scent.”

She cursed, which caused the scars on the side of her face to redden even more. “Master will not be pleased.”

“Then go scare children.” It was, after all, what she did best. Even better than detecting lies. “Maybe one will fight back.”

And if the child used magic, they’d know instantly if it shared the Ryukage’s bloodline.

She scoffed at his suggestion. “They’ll all fight back. That won’t make them the Kage-taro.”

True, and they needed the heir. Time was running out to capture him and drive away those who threatened them. Those who wanted to extinguish them forever.

This was a fight for their very survival.

Soon the Kage-Gokuri who were trying to seal the gate would overtake them and return them to the never-ending darkness, where they would rot for eternity. Their only hope was to find the Kage-taro. He alone could stop the Kage-Gokuri and reestablish a natural order.

With them on top and the human vermin as servants to their every whim.

So it was in the beginning, so it should be now and would be again.

Kagi growled. “We need the heir.” The Kage-taro could protect them.

Haruki glared at him. “I know.”

The last thing either of them could afford was to tell the Ryukage that they’d failed to find his son. Again.

The Ryukage had fed the last demon who disappointed him to his monster, Tatsu. And while Kagi was extremely handsome, he was quite sure he’d taste bad.

“Are you sure you smelled him?” Haruki pressed.

Kagi nodded. “The Kage-taro was definitely here.”

“Then we will find him and return him to his father.”

“And if we can’t?” Kagi asked.

Haruki looked around the courtyard where the two of them took refuge with the tengu, after the sorcerers had come for them. “We will begin feeding the master those children in our stead until we find the right one.”