Four figures stood in the shadows of the Daimyo’s dojo.
Suits of teak and bamboo armor lined the walls, an honor guard of hollow warriors with wooden swords. The storm echoing overhead, wind slipping through the windowsills, shivering the circle of lantern light. And there they stood. In this nation of warlords and Shōgun. Of Daimyo and samurai and Lotusmen.
Four women who would change the face of the world.
“I can’t believe this,” Michi whispered. “You can’t leave us now.”
“I have to,” Yukiko said. “There are dozens of arashitora in Everstorm. If Buruu and I can convince them to fight, we can win this war.”
Misaki watched her with narrowed eyes, silver limbs rippling about her shoulders. “And if you cannot convince them? You will have taken our stormdancer and the people’s hope.”
“You have Hana for that.” Yukiko nodded to the girl. “She can be the same figurehead I am.”
“I’m not you, Yukiko,” Hana said. “I’m not a hero.”
“You can be anything you want. Fate deals us our hand, but we decide how to play it. We all of us choose the people we want to be.”
“This is madness,” Michi whispered. “What if the arashitora won’t come with you?”
“She can make them,” Hana said.
Michi raised an eyebrow.
“Kaiah told me about the Razor Isles.” Hana was staring at Yukiko. “You held three sea dragons still with a wave of your hand. You killed men just by looking at them.”
Michi looked at Yukiko in awe. “Gods above…”
“No,” Yukiko said. “I don’t want to make servants of these creatures. If I do, I’m no better than the tyrants marching against us.”
“You may have no choice,” Misaki said. “And at the end of the day, they are animals.”
“They’re more than that. And I won’t be the one who enslaves them. We made this mess. We tore this country to shreds. If they won’t help, we’ll find another way.”
“And what way would that be?”
Silence fell, edged with storm’s teeth.
“The gaijin,” Hana said.
The others turned to look at her. Her eye was glowing in its socket, warm light cast over her impish face, sharpened by a life spent fighting for scraps.
“Piotr said there’s something about me. My eye. Maybe I should get to the bottom of it. The fact I’m half gaijin, this ‘Zryachniye’ thing … maybe it’s something we can use…”
“The gaijin hate us,” Yukiko said. “They’re here to annihilate us. I can’t understand what Piotr is talking about half the time. Who knows what he actually means?”
“I could try talking to him? Maybe something he’ll say will make sense to me.”
Yukiko pursed her lips, brow creased.
“Can’t hurt,” Michi said. “Maybe the gods brought Hana and Piotr together for a reason.”
“Gods?” Yukiko scoffed. “What do they have to do with any of this…”
“Think about it. What are the chances of Akihito finding two gutter-waifs with the Kenning right about the time you find another thunder tiger? What are the odds we’d find ourselves standing here right now?”
“Kitsune looks after his own, Michi. It’s just luck. Blind, stupid luck.”
“In case you’ve forgotten your temple lessons, we have a god for that too,” Michi smiled.
Yukiko licked her lips, finally nodded.
“All right, talk to Piotr. But don’t do anything drastic until we return. It shouldn’t take us more than a week to fly there and back. The Earthcrusher will be on our doorstep by then, but hopefully not ringing the bell.” Yukiko turned to Misaki. “In the meantime, keep trying to get in touch with the other rebels. Maybe they already have people aboard the Earthcrusher.”
Misaki nodded. “Almost certainly.”
“And we need to think about First House. The Guild is throwing everything they have against us. That means their stronghold will be relatively undefended. We can take out their chi reserves when their backs are turned. Starve the Earthcrusher. Flee to the Iishi where they won’t have the fuel to follow. Maybe even kill the First Bloom.”
Michi nodded. “A wolf without a head is just a rug.”
“Michi, stay close to Daimyo Isamu. He’s a grumpy old bastard, but he seems a good man. You speak for me while I’m gone.”
“Hai,” Michi covered her fist and bowed.
“All right.” Yukiko looked among them. “Everyone be careful until I get back.”
Misaki bowed. Michi grabbed Yukiko in a fierce hug, Hana joining in, the trio standing motionless as the world around them shuddered in the storm’s grip.
“You take care of yourself,” Michi whispered.
“You too.”
“Be careful,” Hana said.
“Be brave.”
They held on for a moment longer, there in the shivering light of their little circle, unwilling to let go. But each thunderclap reminded them of great iron legs pounding the earth, drawing closer every moment. And so they parted, slowly, arms falling to their sides, smiles from their lips, quiet tears from their eyes.
And without a sound, Yukiko turned and walked into the dark.