“Beast-speaker?” Ami blinked. “He is a
“Indeed? Then where is his thunder tiger?”
Ami fell silent, incredulity and rage choking her to stillness.
“The Guild has some intriguing interpretations of holy scripture regarding the nature of those who speak with animals.” Tatsuya crossed the wooden floor, heavy boots ringing upon the boards. Towering over his wife now, staring down at her with cold, black eyes. “The Book of Ten Thousand Days is quite clear upon the topic, when read in a certain light.”
“… A certain light?”
“Hai,” Tatsuya nodded. “The book also speaks clearly on the matter of wives. The nature of deference. Obedience. I suggest you peruse it, before next you consider it prudent to burst in upon one of my council sessions like some moon-touched peasant-child…”
“What has become of you, Tatsuya? Always you and I had our differences, but now…” Ami shook her head. “It seems I know you not at all…”
The Shogun stared from behind his breather, golden tiger fangs bared and gleaming.
“Did you ever?”
She found him in the garden, his thin pine walking stick in hand. He stood in the shade of a twisted maple, leaves turning gray in the stink and slow exhaust haze. Every day, it seemed to be growing just a fraction worse. A few Guild ships now rumbling in the skies above Kigen, smudging the clouds with thick plumes of blue-black smoke. The haze of motor-rickshaw thickening in the streets, beggars coughing in the alleyways, the taste of lotus leaking slowly into the water. The food. The air. Everything.
“Jun-san.”
He turned toward the sound of her voice, and she saw he had tears in his eyes.
“Jun-san, what is wrong?”
“I heard them crying.” He pointed to the gardens beyond the palace verandah. “I came to see. On days such as this, I wish I were truly blind.”
Ami saw a clutch of servants gathered around a tall stack of bamboo cages. The little prisons were filled with sparrows, all hues of the rainbow, screeching their distress. The servants reaching through the bars, one by one, plucking the birds out and setting to with wickedly sharp snips; clipping the sparrow’s wings as they struggled and screeched.
“The ones who could fly away already did.” Jun’s voice was that of a man with a hollowed-out chest. “But the servants told me the Lady Mai enjoys their song. The Shogun had hunters in the north catch them, bring them here.” He looked around the graying gardens as if he could truly see. “To die. Singing.”
Jun frowned, pressed his hand to his brow.
“I can hear them. All of them. The sparrows. The seagulls. The cats and dogs and rats. It is getting worse. I cannot stand it. It was not supposed to be this way. I was supposed to save the world…”
“Come inside, Jun-san.” Ami put her arm about his waist, led him up to the verandah. “Come with me.”
They walked together, Jun’s stick tapping upon the boards. Servants bowing in deference to the Lady, but not the boy. Lingering stares. Puzzled, even. They had not been told of the Battle at Four Sisters. The minstrels did not sing of the Stormdancer Jun who came to their Shogun’s aid. And they wondered who he was; this confidante of the First Lady. This boy she spent so much time with, when instead she should be furnishing their Lord with sons.
They found an empty room in the training halls—a dojo filled with wooden dummies, wooden swords, wooden armor. A hollow facade, just as their lives had become.
“We should not be alone,” Jun said. “It is unwise.”
She ran her hand across his cheek, gentle as first snows. Watching him shiver.
“I miss you,” she breathed.
Stepping closer, her body pressed against his, bleeding with want.
“I know myself a fool for saying so. But I cannot forget.”
Jun reached up with trembling hands, running soft fingertips over her face as if to see her. She sighed, eyelids fluttering closed, his touch making her thighs ache. Her breath coming faster, his fingers across her lashes, brushing her lips, the smooth curve of her throat. Lunging forward, her mouth seeking his, her arms about him as he crushed her to him, the press of his lips making her shiver. Gods, she wanted him.
“We are both fools, then,” he sighed.
Running her fingers through his hair, drifting apart with reluctance, her eyes fixed on his sightless stare. All about her was lies, but this, here in her arms. He was real. When all else was shadows and spiders.
“There is something wrong with Tatsuya,” Ami whispered. “He plots with the Guild rather than punishing them. He speaks of you…” She shook her head. “I fear you are in danger here, Jun. You should go. Back to Koh. Away from this palace. The serpents within.”
“I sense the truth of it. There are eyes ever upon me here. I feel them crawling on my skin, though I have no eyes to see them.”
“Not even Whisper and Silk?” Ami smiled. “Those cats seem to spend more time in your company than mine. I have not seen the ungrateful little devils in days…”
“I have not seen them, either,” Jun frowned. “Now that you make mention…”
Ami pulled back from his embrace, dread unspooling in her belly. “You do not suppose—”
Jun put his finger to her lips, head tilted. Expression paling. Breath catching in his lungs.
“… There are soldiers coming,” he said. “Many.”
“You must go, Jun,” Ami said. “Go now. Quickly.”
“Who says they come for me?”
“Tatsuya would not harm me. He would not dare. But the way he spoke of you … you must go, Jun, now!”
A smile on his lips. Melting her heart.
“I cannot die today, remember?”
He grasped his cane, drew forth his gleaming blade.
“It seems I have not saved the world yet…”
The doors slammed open, a dozen samurai in iron armor stomping into the room, studded war clubs in their hands. Their faces covered by iron masks, crafted into the likes of oni demons straight from the Yomi hells; all twisted snarls and upturned tusks. Behind them, four Guildsmen in their suits of leather and brass, strange devices clutched in their hands; hollow tubes making a faint sloshing sound, cylindrical hoppers feeding into long, smooth barrels.
“Kitsune Jun,” said the samurai captain. “By order of Shogun Tatsuya, you are to surrender your arms and come with us. You are under arrest.”
“For what crime?” Lady Ami demanded.
“Impurity,” hissed a Guildsman.
Ami ignored the Lotusman, a challenging stare fixed on the lead samurai. “Kitsune Jun saved your Shogun’s life, Captain. Tatsuya would not even be alive, let alone sitting the Four Thrones if not for him. This is the courtesy we show now in the Shogun’s palace?”
“I follow my orders, First Lady,” the samurai replied. “I humbly suggest you take issue up with your Lord and husband.”
“This is madness. This is—”
“Enough,” rasped the Lotusman. “Take the abomination into custody.”
The samurai reached out to seize Jun’s arm. The boy backed away, three steps, raising his blade into guard position. His eyes were closed, head titled slightly, a gentle smile curling his lips. His voice soft as new-forged steel.
“I warn you, honorable soldiers, all,” he said. “If you stand against me, you stand against the gods themselves. It was spoken by my—”
