Go to the hells.
I DID NOT KNOW HE WAS DEAD.
Then maybe you should think before you run your fucking mouth.
BEAK.
Whatever.
WHO WAS HE?
None of your godsdamned business.
FRIEND?
…
BROTHER?
He was my everything, that’s what.
Yoshi heaved a sigh, lifted his goggles to run his hand over his eyes.
He was pretty much everything.
HOW DID HE DIE?
He didn’t die. He was killed.
AH.
Ah.
AND SO YOU WALK ALONE, HOPING TO FIND SOME ANSWER FOR YOUR LOSS? YOU WILL FIND NONE IN THE CLOUDS, BOY. BELIEVE ME, I HAVE LOOKED.
I’m not looking for answers. I’m looking to kill the bastards who killed him.
REVENGE.
Godsdamned right.
YOU WILL FIND NO PEACE IN IT. THE STAINS NEVER WASH OFF. I KNOW.
Oh, you know?
YOU WOULD DO BETTER STAYING HERE. WITH YUKIKO. WITH YOUR SISTER. WAR IS COMING, BOY.
Do I look the kind who’ll risk his stake for people he doesn’t give a shit about? Hells, three months ago, those Yama folks would’ve happily chained me to a stone and lit me on fire.
MUCH CHANGES WITH THE SEASONS.
Not everything.
THE SHAPE OF HEROES, CERTAINLY.
So I look like a hero to you?
YOU LOOK LIKE AN ORDINARY BOY.
A blinding arc of lightning kissed the sky.
SO YES, YOU DO.
Save the speech for someone who cares, Mockingbird.
YOUR ANSWERS ARE NOT WHERE YOU THINK. DEATH CANNOT UNDO DEATH.
No shit.
WHY THEN? WILL YOU SPEAK LIKE THESE SAMURAI? OF HONOR? LOYALTY?
Think I left my honor in my other pants.
THEN WHY DO THIS?
Yoshi came to a sudden halt, boots scuffing in mud and bluestone. He looked at the silhouette above, sharp lines of mechanical wings, jet stripes and snow-white feathers against a seething gray sea. He ran a hand over his scalp again, pictured dark eyes alight with laughter.
The mouth he’d once kissed, bloody and lipless.
The hand he’d once held, gnawed and fingerless.
Because blood answers blood, Mockingbird.
He shook his head.
Because some motherfuckers just need killing.
Yoshi walked on. It started spitting again, thick droplets of viscous ooze pattering between rusted tracks, striking the metal in off-beat notes. Yoshi pulled his kerchief over his mouth. Walking along the bleached wood, he prayed the downpour would hold off a little longer. He didn’t notice the arashitora until he’d almost bumped into him.
Yet there he was.
Sitting across the tracks, tail sweeping side to side. His feathers were stained gray by the rain, metal wings gleaming dully. His eyes were molten amber, bright as the hidden sun.
WHERE DO YOU LOOK FOR YOUR REVENGE?
Kigen city.
THAT IS TOO FAR FOR ME TO FLY. I MUST RETURN TO YAMA SOON.
If you say so.
BUT I CAN TAKE YOU TO WHERE THE METAL ROADS MEET.
… Midland Junction?
IF YOU SAY SO.
Why would you do that?
IT WILL RAIN AGAIN SOON.
So?
YOU WISH TO WALK IN IT?
No.
THEN GET ON MY BACK BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND.
Yoshi tilted his head, looked the arashitora in the eye. He glanced at the clouds smeared overhead, the long stretch of rail track, the black rain spattering into one outstretched palm.
All right, then. My thanks.
He crawled up onto the thunder tiger’s back, adrenaline turning his guts to tumbling, mumbling water. The arashitora stood, Yoshi swaying on his spine as the beast loped down the track, leaping once into the air, wings spread, crashing back down to earth with a jolt. Yoshi cursed, held on for dear life as the arashitora leaped up again, this time catching the air beneath his wings, tearing at the empty between clouds and earth and rising into the sky. The boy felt the blood flee his face, watching the ground fall away beneath him, swooping around in a long, loping arc that pushed his innards up against his rib cage. The beast’s wings were a song of metal and gears and pistons, creaking with the uplift, soaring into the rain and cloud.
A severed feather drifted in their wake, tumbling out of the sky, over and over upon itself. The wind caught it, buoyed it, keeping it aloft for as long as it could.
Not forever.
But perhaps for long enough.
19
FALLING
A darkened room of greasy iron. The rumble of sleepless engines. Whispers of treason.
“Tonight,” said the first.
“No. Too much risk,” the second replied.
“We can make it look like an accident.”
“No. Even if we were taking down officers, Commander Rei would be our priority target. Not this Fifth Bloom.”
“If you kill Rei, they’ll catch you. You’re his aide, and the first they’ll blame. We’ll need all three of us to stop the engines when the time comes.”
“Which is why we don’t touch Rei or Kin until the time is right.”
“You know our orders. All Upper Blooms are targets now.”
“No. Too much rides on this. We lay low. And when we meet outside resistance, in the Iishi or outside Kitsune-jō, we take out the engines. Cripple this thing. That’s the plan.”
“This Kin was promoted by the Inquisition, Bo. He probably has their ink on his arm!”