Shadow Of The Fox: a must read mythical new Japanese adventure from New York Times bestseller Julie Kagawa. Julie KagawaЧитать онлайн книгу.
thunder, and the horde skittered back. “Is that mine?” the demon asked, glowing crimson gaze falling on Suki. “It looks tasty.” He took a step toward her, and she nearly fainted on the spot.
“Patience, Yaburama.” Lady Satomi held out a hand, stopping him. He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth slightly, but the woman didn’t seem disturbed. “You can have your payment in a moment,” she went on. “I just want to make certain you know why you were summoned. That you know what you must do.”
“How could I not,” the oni replied, sounding impatient. “The Dragon is rising. The Harbinger of Change approaches. Another thousand years have passed in this realm of horrible light and sun, and the night of the wish is nearly upon us. There is only one reason a mortal would summon me into Ningen-kai at this time.” A look of amused contempt crossed his brutish face. “I will get you the scroll, human. Or a piece of it, now that it has been scattered to the four winds.” The burning red gaze slid back to Suki, and he smiled slowly, showing fangs. “I will do so, after I collect my payment.”
“Good.” Lady Satomi stepped back, as the first drops of rain began to fall. “I am counting on you, Yaburama. I am sure there are others who are scrambling to find all the pieces of the Dragon scroll. You know what to do if you meet them. Well...” She opened a pink parasol and swung it over her head. “I leave it to you. Enjoy.”
As sheets of water began creeping across the courtyard, Lady Satomi turned and began walking away. Suki screamed into the gag and threw herself after her mistress crying and begging, praying to the kami and anyone else who would hear. Please, she thought desperately. Please, I cannot die like this. Not like this.
Lady Satomi paused and glanced back at her with a smile. “Oh, don’t be sad, little Suki-chan,” she said. “This is your proudest moment. You will be the catalyst to usher in a whole new era. This empire, the whole world, will change, because of your sacrifice today. See?” The lady tilted her head, observing her as if she were a whimpering puppy. “You’ve actually become useful. Surely that is enough for someone like you.”
Behind Suki, the ground trembled, and a huge claw closed on her legs, curved talons sinking into her skin. She screamed and thrashed, yanking at the ropes, trying to writhe out of the demon’s grip, but there was no escape. Lady Satomi sniffed, turned and continued on, her parasol bobbing through the rain, as Suki was pulled toward the oni, the minor demons shrieking and dancing around her.
Help me. Someone, please, help me! Daisuke-sama... Abruptly, her thoughts went to the noble, to his handsome face and gentle smile, though she knew he would not be coming. No one was coming, because no one cared about the death of a lowly servant girl. Father, Suki thought in numb despair, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.
Deep inside, anger flickered, momentarily snuffing the fear. It was terribly unfair, being killed by a demon before she could do anything. She was only a servant, but she had hoped to marry a good man, raise a family, leave something behind that mattered. I’m not ready, Suki thought in desperation. I’m not ready to go. Please, not yet.
Clawed fingers closed around her neck, and she was lifted up to face the oni’s terrible, hungry smile. Its hot breath, smelling of smoke and rotten meat, blasted her face as the demon opened its jaws. Mercifully, the gods decided to intervene at that moment, and Suki finally fainted in terror, her consciousness leaving her body the moment before it was torn in half.
The scent of blood misted into the air, and the demons howled in glee. From Suki’s mangled body, unseen by the horde and invisible to normal eyes, a small sphere of light rose slowly into the air. It hovered over the grisly scene, seeming to watch as the minor demons squabbled over scraps, Yaburama’s booming roar rising into the night as he swatted them away. For a moment, it seemed torn between flying into the clouds and remaining where it was. Drifting aimlessly higher, it paused at a flash of color that gleamed through the rain, a pink parasol heading toward the doors of the castle. The sphere’s blue-white glow flared into an angry red.
Zipping from the sky, the orb of light flew soundlessly over the head of the oni, dropped lower to the ground and slipped through the door to the castle just before it creaked shut, leaving the oni, the demons and the torn, murdered body of a servant girl behind.
The Fox in the Temple
“Yumeko!”
The shout echoed over the garden, booming and furious, making me wince. I’d been sitting quietly by the pond, tossing crumbs to the fat red-and-white fish that swarmed below the surface, when the familiar sound of my name bellowed in anger rang from the direction of the temple. Quickly, I ducked behind the large stone lantern at the edge of the water, just as Denga stalked around the opposite bank, his face like a thundercloud.
“Yumeko!” the monk shouted again as I pressed into the rough, mossy stone. I could picture his normally stern, placid face turning as red as the temple pillars, the flush creeping all the way up his bald forehead. I’d seen it too many times to count. His braided ponytail and orange robes were no doubt flapping as he spun, searching the edges of the pond, scanning the bamboo patches surrounding the garden. “I know you’re here somewhere!” he raged. “Putting salt in the teapot...again! Do you think Nitoru likes having tea spat right in his face?” I bit my lip to stifle the laughter and pressed against the statue, trying to be silent. “Wretched demon girl!” Denga seethed, as the sound of his footsteps turned from the pond and headed farther into the garden. “I know you’re laughing your fool head off now. When I find you, you’ll be sweeping the floors until the hour of the Rat!”
His voice drifted away. I peeked around the stone to watch Denga continue down the path into the bamboo, until he was lost from sight.
Blowing out a breath, I leaned against the lantern’s weathered body, feeling triumphant. Well, that was entertaining. Denga-san is always so uptight; he really needs to try out new expressions or his face will crack from the strain. I grinned, imagining the look on poor Nitoru’s face when the other monk discovered what was in his teacup. Unfortunately, Nitoru had the same sense of humor Denga did, which was none at all. Definitely time to make myself scarce. I’ll steal a book from the library and go hide under the desk. Oh, wait, but Denga already knows that spot. Bad idea. I cringed at the thought of all the long wooden verandas that would need a thorough sweeping if I was found. Maybe it’s a good day to not be here. At least until this evening. I wonder what the monkey family in the forest is doing today?
Excitement fluttered. A dozen or so yellow monkeys lived within the branches of an ancient cedar that rose above all other trees in the forest. On clear days, if one climbed to the very top, one could see the whole world, from the tiny farming village at the base of the mountains all the way to the distant horizon. Whenever I found myself at the top of that tree, swaying with the monkeys and the branches, I would gaze over the multicolored carpet stretching away before me and wonder if today would be the day I’d be brave enough to see what lay beyond the skyline.
I never was, and this afternoon would be no different. But at least I wouldn’t be here, waiting for an angry Denga-san to shove a broom into my hands and tell me to sweep every flat surface in the temple. Including the yard.
Drawing back from the statue, I turned around...and came face-to-face with Master Isao.
I yelped, jerking back and hitting the stone lantern, which was bigger and heavier than I and obstinately refused to budge. The ancient, white-bearded monk smiled serenely under his wide-brimmed straw hat.
“Going somewhere, Yumeko-chan?”
“Um...” I stammered, rubbing the back of my head. Master Isao wasn’t a large man; thin and spindly, he stood a head shorter than me when he was wearing his wooden geta clogs. But no one in the temple was more respected, and no one had such control over his ki as Master Isao. I’d seen him chop a tree in half with a flick of his hand, and punch a giant boulder into rubble. He was the undisputed master of the Silent Winds temple,