Yokai Calling

8. Masanori

3

Masanori

The hot summer sun pounded on Masanori’s face as he rode on horseback alongside Hidekazu past emerald fields of soy and flooded rice paddies. They travelled less than an hour northwest from Tsukiko, yet every minute spent tracking down Aihi was one Masanori couldn’t spend hunting the kan’thir sorcerer and the missing woman.

He had to keep reminding himself that involving Aihi was the best way to help. She would make sure the woman wasn’t forgotten.

As they crested the hill, streaks of white and pink painted the sky from the enormous tamashii tree. Its swaying, vine-like limbs towered from over one-hundred feet, a cherry blossom tree rivalling the height of the tallest cedars that gave the Cedar Palace, Aihi’s home, its name.

Motes of light drifted between the branches. Whenever he sparred with Aihi and Torra near the tree, beyond the Genshu clan’s watchful eye, there was a shift inside him. His anxieties calmed, his focus sharpened. Aihi always insisted on training at the tamashii tree—the spirit tree—because they all experienced a slight change.

All people, the good and the bad, Seiryan, Kairese, a follower of the Goddess or not—they all had spirits nestled deep in their core. Not a physical essence, something you could touch if you butchered a man and searched within, but a light that never dimmed. Some people claimed the spirit was where ki came from, a majyu’s connection to the Goddess.

Maybe Masanori’s spirit just wasn’t strong enough to wield the Goddess’ gifts.

He didn’t want to believe that, but he had to face reality. In seventeen years of life, he’d not once used ki without external help. Here at the tamashii tree, a part of him awakened where elsewhere it was asleep.

Musical laughter drifted from the two figures lounging in the shade, and Masanori cast a hopeful glance in that direction. Aihi rested on her back, her black hair and solid grey clothes splayed in the grass. Beside her, Torra lay on her side, their bodies twisted close, too close, as they talked in hushed voices.

A pang of jealousy crept in at just how intimate the pair was. Except for Hidekazu and Masanori, Aihi kept men at a distance. Even with the twins, a layer of formality dripped over their interactions as they grew older.

Aihi was nineteen, now, and was expected to marry to secure her position as the future empress of Seiryuu. When the time came, she would pick someone, and it couldn’t be a lowly ki-engineer like Masanori. She needed someone powerful, like an honoured bushi.

Hidekazu and Masanori dismounted, striding toward the two young women with matched urgency.

Aihi’s dark eyes met Masanori’s, and he slowed when her smile crept up her olive face. “Brothers, how excellent of you to join us.”

For a moment, just a moment, Masanori thought Aihi looked at him the way he’d always wanted her to. But no. He was still a brother, and not a biological one at that.

“Finally. I hope you’re ready for some bruises, Masa.” Torra grabbed a training naginata that had been lying in the grass beside her and leapt to her feet. She leaned against the pole-like weapon, the wooden safety blade pointing toward the sky. “It’s our turn to fight.”

She wore her plain grey kimono tucked into her hakama trousers—the same as Aihi, who wouldn’t have been permitted to wear such simple attire back home.

Masanori longed to pick up one of the other training weapons, but the issue of the kan’thir and the kidnapped woman was too important to push aside in favour of playful banter and a good time. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about last night until he’d done everything in his power to help.

Opting for a more formal approach for this topic, Masanori bowed low, past the waist, like he would at court or to Aihi in public, but never in private. “I am afraid we have news that will interfere with our training today.”

He kept from calling Aihi by her title, as he knew that annoyed her more than she let on to those she wasn’t close with. Still, Aihi’s expression crinkled, put off by Masanori’s attitude. “We do not travel so far from home for more news, dear Masa. Quiet your formalities: it is time for play.”

“Last night, at the Midsummer Festival—”

“Did you not hear me? It is always one drama or another, nobles at a neighbour’s throat, trivial slights...” Aihi sighed. “I have had enough of royal edicts, proclamations, and petitions, and a lifetime of them waits for me still; I am here to rest.”

Today, she didn’t wear the dragon headdress denoting her royal status, but her authoritative aura intimidated even Masanori, who grew up with her. Still, it wasn’t enough to keep him from doing what was right.

“We witnessed a kidnapping, Aihi,” Masanori said. “This cannot wait—even the hours spent waiting to meet you here might put more lives at risk.”

Torra raised a hand to her mouth. “A kidnapping?”

“Hidekazu and I tried to intervene, but we were no match for this foe.”

“Brave of you to try, but why report this to Aihi, not the local authorities?”

Aihi tilted her head, indicating she sought an answer to the same question.

“We spoke with the Tsukiko Guard right after it happened, but...”

“But what?”

“The woman taking our report seemed attentive, but when we shared the whole story, she made no promises that any guards would investigate despite the details we provided,” Hidekazu finished for Masanori. “We know what we saw.”

“Perhaps I was too quick to dismiss your request.” Aihi folded her hands across her stomach. “Very well, for you who have never asked anything of me before now, I will listen not as a sister but in all capacity granted to me in title. Tell me the rest of the story.”

“A woman was taken during the Fire Dancer show last night,” Hidekazu said. The twins shared a glance before he added, “The attacker was kan’thir.”

Colour drained from Aihi’s face. “No, that’s not possible. It was the Midsummer Festival, perhaps someone with poor taste dressed up—they wore a fake mask, yes?”

Masanori expected the resistance, as the Tsukiko Guard had dismissed the case without due consideration. Aihi would likewise be skeptical, but they had a chance to convince her because of her prior relationship with the twins.

“The mask wasn’t fake,” Masanori said. “It was dark and hard to tell, but—”

“Then how can you say it was a kan’thir, not a disguise?” Masanori and Hidekazu flinched at Aihi’s harsh tone. She softened her expression, recognizing the impatience in her tone. “My apologies. It is not my intention to interrogate you. Let us begin again. I thank you for bringing this to my attention, but I must assure all facts are relayed before I look into the matter myself.”

Masanori lowered his gaze. “Of course, I understand.”

Now that his irritation waned from how Aihi first greeted him, he wished their interaction hadn’t turned so formal. It felt like they were back at court, pretending they weren’t familiar with each other at all.

“Please, carry on. What convinces you that this is not a pretender?”

“The events are best described by Hidekazu.” He was the majyu; anything about ki would sound more credible coming from him.

Without missing a beat, Hidekazu took up the conversation: “The attacker was a sorcerer who wielded corrupted energy like a weapon. They distorted the Goddess’ power for their own sick gain—whatever that might be by taking this prisoner.”

It was hard not to worry about what would happen to the woman. She could be assaulted, sold into slavery in Tajida, or murdered. Perhaps all three, and not in that order. And still, the sorcerer might have worse plans. They had to find her and fast.

Unfortunately, Aihi’s mild skepticism shifted into one of amused doubt. “Dear Hide, surely you are far enough along in your studies to know such a feat is impossible. The unworthy and the untrained corrupt the Goddess’ gifts on accident, true, but no one can wield corruption with the same proficiency as the natural elements.”

“It’s what we saw,” Masanori bit out. “I know it’s hard to believe, but every second we waste debating these facts doesn’t change how a woman is in danger. And the longer this kan’thir stays out there, the more people he could hurt—like the last time a kan’thir came to Seiryuu.”

“Pure corruption? A kan’thir? You must have seen a pretender or a trick of the enchanted fireworks.” Aihi shook her head; his comment about the kan’thir from Meishoken hit home. “Regardless of the attacker’s identity, I am committed to recovering the missing woman and reprimanding the Tsukiko Guard for not following up on your report immediately, as is their duty. However, there is only so much we can do without knowing more about the incident, which means returning to the scene of the crime.”

Hidekazu perked up. “His spells left a strange sludge behind. It might still be there.”

If Aihi saw the residue for herself, she had to believe them.

“It is settled. We leave at once.” Aihi strode past them and toward the horses.

Masanori hurried to catch up. Precious hours were gone from the limited window they had to search, but if anyone would see and end to this awful turn of events, it was Aihi.

And Masanori intended to be by her side the whole way through.