Year of the Demon

little fire pit in Sen’s boat. By the time Kaida got there, the tea would already be gone—“spilled” overboard, no doubt, if they hadn’t actually drunk it all. That was all right. Anger would keep Kaida warm. She did notice, though, that the wind was blowing hard, and the waves were a lot higher than they’d been a few moments before. A storm was brewing, and it was rolling in fast and angry.

21

The moment it sailed into view, Kaida knew the strangers’ ship was doomed, yet somehow the sight of it inspired a surge of hopefulness in her. Every time she saw a ship, she dreamed of being aboard. Ama-machi was not a village in her eyes; it was a penitentiary, and the ships were the only way out.

The features that made Ama-machi an ideal place for a settlement were the very features that made it the harshest of prisons. Sheer black cliffs walled in the beach on three sides, protecting it from the worst of the storms and from raiders to boot. The waves rolled in relentlessly, battering down the rock over thousands of years, forming the cove and driving back any who sought to swim beyond it. They’d created the beach, and there the grass shacks of Ama-machi huddled like a bunch of ducklings nestling in close to their mother, the giver of life.

To the southwest, the line of toothy rocks known as Ryujin’s Maw marked the boundary between the cove and the open sea. The sea was the fourth wall to Kaida’s prison, pitiless, beckoning eternally yet never offering escape. Out there were the biggest sharks, the strongest riptides, the coldest currents. The jagged, broken wall of the Maw fended off all those threats, but in so doing it fenced in any young woman who dreamed of someday swimming off to the horizon, never to return.

It was only when a ship sailed into view that Kaida felt any hope of escape. Even this new ship, the one that sped under full sails just past Ryujin’s Maw, caused her heart to race, though she knew the strangers and their ship were soon to be swallowed up by the waves. The elders said there was no way to reach another village except by sea. The cliffs surrounding Ama-machi were volcanic rock, sharp and brittle, and even if they were as soft as baby skin they were still vertical where they were not overhung. Kaida had climbed to the top once, back when she still had two hands, for no other reason than to see what there was to see. But there were no other villages up there, nor even a road to reach them; she found only trackless overgrown hills and a down-climb so difficult it had nearly killed her.

Back then she still had reasons to climb back down. Her mother was still alive. Her father still knew she existed, even though he’d have preferred a son to a daughter. Even in those days Kaida found Ama-machi too small for her. The boys were boring and the girls were petty. It was a good thing she was the best ama her age—better even than a lot of the women in their twenties and thirties— because the only place she could go to feel sane was underwater. These days she wanted to escape even more than she had back then, but Kaida knew attempting the climb again would do her no good. How could she survive in hill country? There were no coral beds to forage for food, no waterfalls or rain catches for freshwater. She could not imagine how anyone could tell which direction was which; in her memory all those hills looked exactly the same.

No, the only hope of escaping Ama-machi was to sail to another village, and she would not be allowed to do that until she was fifteen. She’d told herself a thousand times to forget about escape, and yet every time a ship sailed into view her heart betrayed her. Every single time it leaped with hope.

This ship had no hope. It was the biggest Kaida had ever seen—far and away the biggest, in fact—and still she had no hope. She was red, the strangers’ ship, three-masted, all sails fat with wind as she raced the storm bearing down on her like a school of barracuda. Ribbons of foam whipped off the whitecaps at her prow. The colorful dragon that was her figurehead snarled in defiance as it surged straight for the Claw.

Kaida heard gasps from all around her, and though she could not take her eyes from the dying ship, she knew the whole village must have gathered on the beach to watch. Rain pelted her, and the others too, but the doomed ship was as hypnotic as it was horrifying.

The ship’s captain had no more hope of seeing Ryujin’s Claw than his wooden draconic figurehead. It was high tide; the Claw was submerged. And this ship clearly could not have been from anywhere near Ama-machi. Her captain did not know these waters. The elders always said outlanders never valued ama wisdom. They never hired locals to guide them, and so this stretch of the coast was dotted with a hundred shipwrecks.

The elders were wrong sometimes, but not tonight.

It was as if the gods conspired to let Kaida watch her hopes founder and drown. The clouds were black almost all the way to the horizon, but between the clouds and the angry sea was a long band of golden sky, and in the center of it, right at the horizon, the sun burned like a round red ember. The strangers’ ship sped past the sun. Each tooth of Ryujin’s Maw stood out as black as a shark’s eye against her red hull. No doubt the captain had seen the Maw. No doubt his steersman felt a wave of relief at having passed it unscathed. It was a common mistake.

The Claw ripped the belly out of the strangers’ ship, stopping her dead despite her bulk and speed. Dozens of tiny human forms tumbled forward, as helpless as baby sand crabs before a rogue breaker. Some of the crewmen disappeared overboard. Others struck the gunwales and clung for dear life.

A huge wave loomed over the port bow, big enough to toss any ama’s boat aside. An ama’s boat might have been thrown free of the Claw, but the strangers’ ship was too heavy, too bulky, impaled too deep. She took the wave broadside and it snapped her in half.

Someone on the beach screamed. Others shouted, but Kaida only heard them say stupid things. Of course those sailors would try to swim this way. Most would die in the attempt. The rain redoubled its assault, hammering Kaida, nearly blinding her. The other villagers on the beach would be holding their hands against their wet foreheads, creating an eave for their eyes. Kaida had but the one hand, but she cupped her eyes with it anyway, the better to see. Hypnotized and horrified, she watched.

The sailors in the water were learning now why the Claw was so dangerous. An invisible riptide tossed them from the Claw onto the jagged teeth of the Maw, just as if Ryujin was feeding himself. The sea dragon was insatiable. Kaida knew that all too well. He had devoured her mother, and taken Kaida’s left hand as a snack. And that had been in calmer seas than this.

Kaida saw the waves pulp one man after the next against the rocks of the Maw, not because she wanted to watch but because she could not pull her gaze away. “Look at her,” she heard Miyoko say. “She looks like she’s going to cry.”

“She does,” Kiyoko said, following along as passively as ever.

“Cry your big froggy eyes out,” said Shioko. “They’re halfway out of your head already anyway. Neh, Miyoko? She has eyes like a bug.”

Kaida refused to look in her sisters’ direction. Men were dying right in front of them, and somehow these three still found the time to pick on her. She debated dragging a boat out into the surf, and maybe recruiting her father and a few of his friends to help her mount a rescue effort. The thought lived only briefly; then she tossed it aside as easily as the sea tossed yet another outland sailor into the Maw. The surf rolled in hard enough to rebuff even the strongest oarsmen in the village, and if they somehow managed to row even halfway out to the Maw, even a hundred oarsmen couldn’t keep a boat steady in these seas. For the outlanders, a boat full of rescuers would only be one more weight to crush their skulls against.

And yet Kaida really did want to row out there to save them. She wished she didn’t care, or at least that she could keep from letting her care show. As it was, Miyoko had only to read her face to find ammunition for her next attack. “Poor Kaida,” she said, mock-whimpering. “Do you want to swim out there and find a husband? Maybe you should. None of Ama-machi’s men will have you.”

I wouldn’t have them, Kaida thought, and even if I would, half of them have already had you. Kaida had heard what Miyoko was doing to the boys of the village. She’d even done it to grown men. She’d done it halfway to Sen once with her hand, then run away giggling while he raged and cried. He’d tried to chase her, stumbling with his pants around his ankles and his member sticking straight out from between his legs. The whole village knew about Sen’s outburst, but not how Miyoko had started