Year of the Demon

think of a way to find his precious sword. She’d already scoured every corner of the wreck; she’d pulled up every treasure she thought outlanders might want. There weren’t any swords down there.

Not in the open, anyway.

But then there were the dark spaces, the holds that were still intact, still locked up tight. She’d never mustered the courage to get into those.

As if to mock her, Cho’s pale silhouette wriggled into the gaping dark maw of the carrack. From the surface, it looked exactly like the wreckage had gobbled her up.

“Scary, neh?” said Miyoko. Kaida looked up to see her stepsisters riding abreast of her. Sen was their oarsman again, gazing blankly from under the shadow of his broad sugegasa. Kaida wondered what lies Miyoko had conjured to coax him into rowing his boat closer to Kaida, within tormenting range. Her thoughts strayed to the knife she’d bound to her stump, still concealed by the loose sleeve of her yukata. It was of no use to her at the moment, but she was glad to have it nonetheless.

“Neh, Kaida?” Miyoko said it as sweetly as if she were talking to a newborn. “What a fright it must be, swimming inside that dark shipwreck. It must feel like the walls are closing in.”

“Not such a difficult problem to fix,” Kaida said. “Don’t dive.”

“Oh, but if we don’t dive, how can we win the treasure? You do want the treasure, don’t you?”

Kaida didn’t feel like exercising patience today. She jumped headfirst over the gunwale, thankful for the cold water rushing past her ears. Genzai’s boat was close, but she chose to swim under it and surface on the far side, out of sight of her sisters.

“Why is that sword so important to you?”

Genzai looked down at her, frowning. “That is no concern of yours.” He turned away, redirecting his attention to the wreck and the ama within.

“I can tell you how to get it,” Kaida said. “Tell me what it’s for.”

He gave no hint that he’d even heard her speaking, and Kaida had almost resigned to swim back to her boat when finally he broke his silence. “The man who tames Glorious Victory cannot be defeated in battle. In the right hands, that blade can change the fortune of an empire.”

“And you want to be emperor? Is that why you’re here? You’re a warlord?”

“A broker.” He smirked. “Battlefields are for fools. Those who prefer their heads attached to their shoulders find other ways than war.”

Kaida thought about that for a moment. “Is there a battle coming? There is, isn’t there? And you want to choose who wins. Is your plan to give the sword to some other warlord? To tip the balance in his favor?”

A laugh rumbled in Genzai’s throat. “You are no fool, Kaida-san. Shortsighted, but not a fool. There are many battles to come, and we do not leave their outcomes to chance. Now tell me, what is your secret for retrieving the sword?”

“If I tell you, will you choose me next?”

Genzai gave her a grunt of disappointment. “So you can be the one to claim the sword? So you can demand that I take you with us when we go? No, Kaida-san. If a little ribbing from three little girls is too much for you, you’ll not fare well with us when we leave.”

“You were listening?”

“That is what you want, neh? For me to take you away from those sisters of yours?”

“You said whoever gets the sword gets whatever she wants. You said she could name her reward.”

“I did.” He glanced down, prompting Kaida to do the same. Cho was just emerging from the wreck. “Tell me your secrets, Kaida-san. How would you reclaim Glorious Victory?”

“I will say nothing until you agree to take me with you.”

He scratched behind his beard. “Very well. If you tell me how to make these women retrieve the sword, we will bring you with us when we take our leave.”

Kaida felt a thrill of triumph. “One more thing: promise you’ll let me dive next. Before the rest of the older ama.”

“Because you’re so sure someone else can use your secret to find the sword?” He gave her a studious frown, as if she were some new breed of seal no one had ever seen before. At last he grumbled his consent. “As you like. Reveal this secret art of yours and you will dive before any of these grown women.”

Kaida all but floated with glee. “We cannot swim with that tether tied to our ankles. Tie it to your mask instead. That way you won’t lose your mask if I get into trouble, and I can dive deeper because I won’t have to make my ascent with that big iron weight pulling me down.”

Genzai looked at Tadaaki, then at the other one, the outlander with the hair and beard like clouds on a stiff wind. “The mask must be worn to serve its purpose,” said the wild-haired one. It was the first time she’d ever heard him speak a coherent word.

“Bind it to me if you like,” Kaida said. “Just not as you’ve been doing. Tie it so I can take it off.”

Genzai looked to the old man again, who frowned as he thought about it. At last he gave a curt nod.

Another thrill of triumph ran down Kaida’s spine. Her skin bloomed with goose bumps not born of the chilly water. “You, girl, get in the boat,” Genzai said.

Kaida started to get in, but Genzai told her, “Not you. The tall one.”

He pointed, and Kaida followed his finger to Miyoko, whose broadening grin bespoke victory and malice and joy all at once. She looked at Kaida as a flame might look at dry kindling.

“No,” Kaida shouted. “Genzai-sama, please, you swore you’d let me go with you —”

“If you found the sword,” Genzai said. “I will stand by my word: no grown woman will dive before you. But I have no desire to drag a crippled peasant girl in tow. If you should retrieve the Inazuma blade, I will carry you along with the rest of our luggage. But I intend to give every one of your sisters the chance to find it first.”

47

Kaida was heartbroken. All she could do was sit dripping in her wet yukata. She’d sealed her own fate.

On any other morning, she would have no fear that Miyoko would claim the sword. The water was just too deep. But between the anchor line and the extra weight of the mask, Miyoko could reach the carrack with no effort at all. Worse yet, all the ama who dived before had worked out a sort of verbal map of the ship’s innards. Kaida’s best advantage had been her knowledge of the wreck. She’d dived on it dozens of times, while everyone else came to it for the first time. Now Miyoko had detailed instructions about which holds had already been combed over, which way to turn after swimming through this hatch or that one.

On top of that, Miyoko had the mask. Every ama who wore it said she felt it pulling her toward the sword. Kaida didn’t quite understand how that worked; all of them admitted they hadn’t seen the sword, and Kaida could not grasp how they knew they were being pulled toward something none of them could see. But that hardly mattered. Miyoko had one unsurpassable advantage over Kaida: she wasn’t scared of closed spaces.

Miyoko positively glowed as Tadaaki fixed the mask to her pretty face. “Take care not to snag the line,” he told her, just as he’d told every ama before her. “Should you lose the mask, we will send your corpse down to join it. Understand?”

He’d said that to all of other divers too. Miyoko nodded and promised and did everything else a good little girl was supposed to do. Then she flashed Kaida a sinister smile and made her first dive.

Kaida hoped she’d drown. Then she saw Cho’s face.

Cho knew perfectly well that none of her daughters had ever been as deep as the wreck. Kaida’s aptitude for deep diving was freakish for girls her age. Cho couldn’t hide her apprehension: she bit her lower lip; her hands clasped tightly to each other; she held her breath.