the instinctive reaction of a trapped animal, flight and fight tumbling over one another inside his head.
He pulled himself to his feet, jaw clenched, staring at each boy in turn.
“Hello, Guildsman.” Isao ran a hand along the thin stubble on his chin, up through the topknot of long, dark hair. His face was angular, cut rather than molded by the Maker’s hand. Short sleeves showed burns where his irezumi used to be, hard muscles and tanned skin.
Two other boys crowded the doorway behind him. Kin knew their names: small and wiry Atsushi, the boy who’d found Ayane in her pit. His big crooked-faced cousin Takeshi, who’d interrupted Yukiko’s kiss in the graveyard. Arms folded, jaws set, goggles hiding the flint and steel in their eyes. Both growled salutations ending with the word “Guildsman.”
“My name is Kin,” he said.
“Your name is shit,” Isao spat.
“What do you want, Isao-san?”
“You gone, whoreson,” Atsushi growled.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Isao stepped forward, fists clenched. He was a little younger than Kin, but bigger. Weatherworn and battle-tested.
“You’re going to the Yomi underworld for what you’ve done to these islands. You and this little spider- legged bitch.” He gestured at Ayane, pale and wide-eyed with fright. “You and all your kind are poison.”
“They’re not our kind, Isao.” Kin licked his lips, tried to keep the anger from his voice. “You have no idea what it cost us to be here. You don’t know anything about us.”
“I know you’re a traitor.” Isao took another step closer, just a few feet away now. “A liar who sold out his own kind. And now you’re up here spreading your cancer among my family. The little toys you make for the children. Your marvelous machines spitting poison into—”
“They’re not chi-driven, you imbecile,” Kin spat. “The shuriken-throwers are just hydraulics and gas-power. You don’t need to burn lotus to—”
“What did you call me?” Isao’s lips pulled back from his teeth.
“You heard.”
“Please…” Ayane began. “We want no trouble.”
Isao spit on the decking, glaring at the girl. “My mother and father both died of blacklung from the poison your machines shit into the sky. Takeshi’s mother was executed for sedition when he was six. Atsushi’s sister was burned at the godsdamned stake by your bastard Purifiers.” He narrowed his eyes. “You think we give a shit what you want?”
“We’re going to hurt you, Guildsman.” Takeshi scowled at Kin, crooked jaw, cracking knuckles. “Until you squeal.”
“And we’re going to keep hurting you until you see you don’t belong here,” Isao said. “Until you and this bitch crawl back to your five-sided pit and leave us the hell alone.”
“Stay away from us.” Kin kept the tremor from his voice, raising his fists. “I mean it.”
Isao laughed, looked at the other boys. “Look out, he means—”
Kin’s strike took him on the jaw, rocked his head back on his neck. A bone-hard ball of knuckles, landing heavy enough to split the younger boy’s lip. Isao staggered back as Kin grabbed his collar, swinging wildly with his free fist. He got in another solid hit to Isao’s temple, knocking his goggles askew before the others tore him off.
The gut punch knocked his breath loose, and his legs were swept out from under him. He fell back, cracked his head on the bars, bright stars bursting in his eyes. Ayane screamed as two kicks thudded against his ribs, curled him into a ball. He lashed out blindly, caught one of the boys on the shins.
“A little fight in you, eh?”
Isao rolled Kin onto his back as Takeshi grabbed his feet, held them in place. The younger boy sat on his chest, pinned Kin’s arms with his knees. Blood from his split lip spattered against Kin’s cheek. Isao drew a blade from his obi, tore Kin’s tunic open, pressed the knife-point into the bayonet socket beneath Kin’s collarbone. Kin felt the cable move beneath his skin as Isao twisted his blade. The metals made an awful sound as they kissed.
“Stop it!” Ayane screamed. “Please!”
“You’re going to pay for that.” Isao licked his busted lip. “And maybe when we’re done, we’ll unlock this cage, play with your little sister here? You think she’d like that, Guildsman?”
A mouthful of spit sprayed into Isao’s eye.
“You boys!” A woman’s shout. “Leave him alone!”
Kin heard sandals slapping against the floorboards, felt the weight on his chest ease. Isao stood and sheathed his tanto, wiped the spittle from his face. His cheeks were flushed with rage, breath coming in quick, heaving gasps. The blood on his mouth was red as the wounded sky outside, bottom lip already swelling.
Kin rolled to his knees, dry retching and clutching his collarbone. Through the blur of sweat and pain, he saw Old Mari standing in the doorway, brandishing a cane as ancient and gnarled as she was.
“Get away from him.” The old woman’s voice was hoarse with indignation. “Go on, off with you. Three against one? You shame yourselves.”
The boys muttered and shuffled toward the door. Isao straightened his goggles, lips curled into an upside- down grin. He pointed at Kin, spit blood at his feet.
“See you tomorrow, Guildsman.”
Old Mari shoved through the boys as they loped out, smacking Takeshi on the behind with her walking stick. Ayane reached through the bars, clutched at Kin’s hand.
“First Bloom, are you all right?”
It took a minute or two for him to catch his breath, crouched with one palm planted on the floor. He touched his ribs and winced, straightened with a groan.
“I’m all right…”
“Disgraceful.” Mari clapped her cane upon the boards, scowling after the boys. “What matter if Isao and Takeshi are oni killers? You’d think before teaching them the sword, Sensei Ryusaki would teach them some damned courtesy.”
Kin looked at the old woman, tried to twist his grimace into a smile. She was a good foot shorter than he, stick-thin, back bent as if she carried the world upon her shoulders. One hand clasped her walking stick, the other a basket laden with fish and rice. Her skin was like leather, gray hair bound in a widow’s bun, rheumy eyes pouched in bags so heavy Kin wondered how she could see at all. She was in charge of the Kage infirmary, had cared for Kin as he recovered from his trek to the Iishi. Her bedside manner was as pleasant as a flying kick to the privates, but she’d patched him up well enough.
“That was damned foolish of you.” She looked him up and down, her scowl undiminished. “Taking on three at once. Who do you think you are, Kitsune no Akira? The old Stormdancers usually had thunder tigers with them in battle.”
“They cornered us.” He touched the input jack at his collar, wincing. “I’ve done all the running I’m going to do. A man faces his enemies.”
“Oh, so you’re a man, are you? Ready to take on the world alone?”
“Ready to stand up for myself, at least.”
“The best thing you can do is tell Daichi.”
“No.” Ayane looked at the old woman with pleading eyes. “I do not wish for there to be any trouble on my account.”
“Daichi won’t care, Mari,” Kin sighed.
“Remain a fool, then,” Mari shrugged. “But if Yukiko were here, she’d—”
“Well, she’s not here, is she? And sometimes I wonder why the hells I am.”
Kin ran one hand over the stubble at his scalp, pulled his anger into check. Talking like that in front of Ayane wasn’t going to make her feel any more at ease. It wasn’t going to make him feel better, either. He glanced sideways at the old woman, sighing.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
