The arashitora below roared encouragement, and soon the pair joined, swooping comets of white and black shrieking across the skies. Sukaa was swift and fierce, but Esh was older, stronger by half. It soon became apparent the contest was one-sided. Buruu’s brother toyed with the youngster, batting him about as a cat plays a mouse, embarrassing the arrogant Khan-son thoroughly before finally bloodying him with one great swipe down his flank. It was a fine blow, and would give Sukaa a nice, humbling scar to remember the encounter by.
The females roared their amusement in the distance as Esh returned to the Bloodstone amidst the approving crows of the Everstorm pack. The Others glowered darkly, displeased their Khan-son had been so thoroughly thrashed. Sukaa himself remained aloft, sulking, and soon two other males joined in battle, white and black lightning across the horizon. All eyes were on the contest. No one watched the thwarted Khan-son still circling above.
No one saw him dive.
Buruu noticed him in the final seconds, dropping like a thunderbolt toward his brother’s head. He roared warning; Esh glanced up, flinched away—too late, too late. Sukaa crashed down atop him, flattening him on the stone, cracking bone. And raising his talons with a bloodcurdling shriek of rage, Sukaa struck at Esh’s unprotected face.
Blood spraying. Shrieks of pain. Roars of outrage. Drahk and Buruu both charged the coward, smashing him from their brother’s back. The Others joined in, and soon the top of the Bloodstone was a seething melee, flashing eyes and crimson sprays. Sukaa scrambled clear, torn and bleeding, taking to the wing. His pack followed, fleeing east, pursued for miles before the Everstorm bucks conceded the chase.
Back at the Bloodstone, Buruu and Drahk stood over their brother Esh, watching him struggle to his feet. His face was shredded, three bone-deep gouges running through his cheek. Where Esh’s eye had been, Buruu could see only a torn and bleeding hole.
My gods …
SUKAA. THAT WRETCH. IF NOT FOR HIM …
Was he punished?
THERE WAS NO LAW ABOUT BLOODSTONE CONTESTS, BUT ALL WHO FOUGHT KNEW THERE WERE LIMITS. WE WOULD LEAVE OUR SCARS, YES, BUT NOT LIKE THAT. ESH WAS CRIPPLED. NO FEMALE WOULD WANT HIM, EVEN IF HE COULD WIN CONTEST FOR A MATE HALF-BLIND. WHAT FUTURE DID HE HAVE?
So what did your father do?
… HE DID NOTHING, YUKIKO.
Buruu dipped his wings, brought them closer to the clouds.
HE DID NOTHING AT ALL.
*
She slept as best she could as night fell, binding her arms around his neck. It was freezing above the clouds, her throat raw, teeth chattering like idle servants. The storm swelled as they flew ever closer to Buruu’s birthplace, his past coiled and waiting, patient as vipers. And so she curled up against his warmth, listening to the rhythmic creak of his metal wings. The song of piston and gears made her think of Kin, standing in Kigen arena with hurt plain in his eyes as she accused him of betrayal.
“I gave you my word. I gave Buruu his wings. I would never betray you, Yukiko. Never.”
Never …
She thought of their kiss in the graveyard, that brief wonderful beginning, lips brushing soft as feathers against her own. And how it had all turned to rot in the end.
Somewhere inside, she supposed she should feel sad about it—what could’ve been. She should feel guilty for dragging Kin away from all he’d been, then running off to play hero and leaving him alone. But she thought of Daichi, probably boiled into fertilizer inside some inochi vat. She thought of Isao and the others who died during the Kigen raid, of Aisha in her machine bed, begging Michi to kill her. She thought of the bloodshed to come, thudding its way toward Kitsune-jō. And she grit her teeth and clenched her fists and whispered Kin’s name like a curse.
No matter how this ends, Kin. No matter who lives and who dies. I’ll see you pay for what you’ve done.
She dragged freezing knuckles across burning eyes.
Tenfold.
YOU SHOULD BE SLEEPING.
She blinked, scratched Buruu at the join between neck and shoulder, her fingers numb inside her gloves. She could see tiny crystals of frost on his feathers.
How far are we from the Everstorm?
CAN YOU NOT FEEL IT IN THE KENNING? CAN YOU NOT SIMPLY REACH OUT AND TOUCH THEM, EVEN AT THIS DISTANCE?
… I haven’t tried.
YOU STILL FEAR THIS THING. THIS POWER IN YOU.
Is that so wrong? I don’t understand it. My father never told me it could be like this. It’s all I can do to shut it out sometimes. I can feel it building behind the wall I’ve built. It hurts, even now, speaking to you like this. And I’m afraid of what will happen if I let it go. Will I hurt you?
She glanced down to her belly, hidden behind plates of reticulated iron.
Will I hurt them?
THE POWER COMES FROM THEM. FROM THE GODS. IT WILL NOT HARM THEM.
You sound like Michi. The gods don’t have anything to do with this.
YOU RIDE ON THE BACK OF A CHILD OF RAIJIN.
That’s nonsense. Your father was called Skaa. You’re just flesh. Meat and bone, like all of us. You’re no more the child of a deity than I am.
PRECISELY.
There are no gods in this story, Buruu. No hands reaching down from the heavens to help or hurt us. There’s just us. Us and the enemy.
YOU MAY THINK DIFFERENTLY WHEN YOU FEEL THEM.
Who?