You’ve the best heart of anyone I’ve ever met, Buruu. No matter what you did, no matter what anyone says, I’ll love you forever. Do you hear me? Forever and always.
Silence was his only response, so Yukiko broke contact and slipped into Kaiah’s mind. She felt a brief flare of pain, the familiar ache blazed across the base of her skull. Though she was getting better at holding the Kenning in check, sometimes it threatened to overwhelm her, along with the knowledge of why it had swelled beyond anything she’d known. Her hand slipped to her belly, to the pulses she could feel there, fear welling inside her.
Gods, what am I going to do?
– ABOUT WHAT? –
Yukiko blinked, realized her thoughts were leaking into Kaiah’s mind. Hana was in there too; a knot of emotion and thought too intricate to comprehend. Yukiko remembered the Razor Isles and the gaijin boy who betrayed her, the way she’d pushed pictures into his head. And the thought occurred that a language barrier had lain between her and Ilyitch, but there was no such gulf between her and Hana. Using Kaiah as a bridge, there was no reason she couldn’t …
Hana, can you hear me?
A pause, laced with uncertainty and the scent of ozone. A voice came to her across a vast space, dimmed by the roar of endless winds.
Yukiko?
Hello there.
I can hear you in my head! How the hells are you doing that?
I think you’re hearing me through Kaiah. But honestly, I don’t really know.
– THE ONES INSIDE YOU MAKE YOU STRONGER. I CAN FEEL THEM. – The ones inside her?
Yukiko sighed, closed her eyes. If she said it, it’d be real. If she gave voice to it, there’d be no turning back.
… I’m pregnant, Hana.
Oh.
A pause, wind howling like wolves.
Should I offer congratulations or condolences?
I don’t really know that either …
Ah.
Listen, we’ll be at the fortress soon. The Kitsune Daimyo seems intent on making Hiro his enemy. We need to find out if that makes us his allies. This Guild War won’t have helped, but getting him on-side would give us a real army. A sky-fleet and a fortress. This is important.
I should warn you, I’m not exactly a paragon of courtly matters. Not like I’ve met many Daimyo before.
Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.
All right, then.
She was about to break contact when Hana’s voice rang across the gulf.
Yukiko?
Yes?
… Congratulations.
Atop a hill on the west side of the city glowered Kitsune-jō—the mighty Fortress of the Fox. Battlements of dirty gray stone studded with chi-powered ballista climbed heavenward in concentric rectangles. A crowd of people had gathered at the fortress gates; an ocean of upturned goggles, dirty kerchiefs and clockwork breathers. A dull roar grew in volume as Yukiko and Hana descended, the clamor of a hundred voices, one name, over and over again.
“Stormdancer!”
Yukiko held up a tentative hand and the roar intensified, thrumming in her chest. Bushimen struggled to press the mob back, calls for order falling on deaf ears.
Buruu roared and the crowd roared in answer; a thunderous, rumbling cheer.
This is madness, Buruu.
THEY LOVE YOU.
They don’t even know me.
THEY SING YOUR SONGS. TELL YOUR TALE TO THEIR CHILDREN. THEY KNOW YOU AS THEY KNOW KITSUNE NO AKIRA, WHO SLEW GREAT BOUKYAKU. OR TORA TAKEHIKO, WHO CLOSED THE DEVIL GATE.
That’s not me. It’s only their idea of me.
DO YOU NOT SEE, SISTER? YOU ARE AN IDEA NOW.
The arashitora swooped over the crowd, close enough to tear hats from heads and kerchiefs from faces. They swung up over the outer wall toward the soldiers assembled on the castle’s broad steps. Black flags embroidered with the white sigil of the Kitsune clan whipped like headless serpents in the wind. The Thunder God Raijin pounded his drums in the distance.
The arashitora landed, Buruu folding his mechanical wings at his side. Kaiah preened for a full minute afterward, as if flaunting her unmarred feathers in front of him. Yukiko remained where she was atop Buruu’s shoulders, staring at the assembled Kitsune soldiers. She could feel Kaiah’s agitation, turned to give a reassuring smile to Hana. The girl didn’t remove her goggles, probably deciding a conversation about her eye would only complicate matters.
A huge figure in ceremonial armor descended the steps, Buruu growling softly as he approached. The suit was beautiful: embossed black iron, the faceguard crafted to resemble a snarling fox, a tassel of pale hair at its crown streaming in the wind.
The figure stopped within thirty paces of the arashitora riders, unbuckled its helm. Yukiko saw a broad face, battle scarred and hard. The man covered his fist and bowed.
“Stormdancer. I am General Kitsune Ginjiro, right hand of the Daimyo.”
“Ginjiro-sama.” Yukiko bowed in return. “This is my friend Hana. She is blessed with the Kenning like me, and has vowed to help rid these islands of the Guild and its poison.”
“Do you bring violence to my honorable Lord’s house?”
“… No.” Yukiko blinked. “Of course not.”
“Um.” Hana raised a tentative hand. “Me either.”