“Now,” Kensai said. “We must speak of these … funerary theatrics among you and the other Kazumitsu Elite…”
Out the door, ducking between the two towering hulks of death-white iron standing vigil. Her mind awhirl. She had to get to the Kuro Street safe house, report to Gray Wolf. But to avoid suspicion, she’d have to work her full shift, straight-faced, no pace in her step, no fear in her eye. The girl nobody wanted, nobody knew. An insignificance in human guise, no more worthy of concern or notice than a cockroach crawling in the cracks.
Forcing those cracks wider by the day.
I am nothing.
I am No One.
*
The earthquake struck soon afterward—a thirty-second tremor shaking the palace walls, vases tumbling from their perches and tapestries from their hooks. The fitful tremblings of the ground beneath their feet provided momentary distraction amidst the mounting courtly intrigue, but of course, it was left to the servants to clear up the mess afterward. The house mistress was furious and No One, being who she was, wore the worst of her temper.
Lady Sun was perhaps half an hour from waking by the time No One escaped the palace. The girl walked slowly, straw hat pulled down low, through the grounds and out into the predawn still. She saw a beggar on an empty street corner, walking in circles, claiming the quake was proof of Lord Izanagi’s displeasure at the impending royal wedding. As she watched, the poor wretch was beset by fresh-faced bushimen in Hiro’s colors and treated to an impromptu boot party. When pressed by their captain, she showed her permit, and hurried on her way.
Across the river to Downside, daylight still an empty vow on the eastern horizon. Daken met her in his usual spot, slinking from the alley mouth like a blade from its sheath, the scent of freshly murdered corpse-rat smeared on his muzzle as he purred and pressed his face to hers.
… saw you first …
Clever. You want to keep lookout for me again?
… we go to thin house . .?
Just for a little while. I need to see my friends.
… Yoshi come . .?
No, Daken. Yoshi can’t know about them. My friends are a secret, remember?
… many secrets …
You won’t tell him, will you?
… have not told you his, have i . .?
The tom gifted her with a smug gaze, turned and dashed off into the gloom. For all his size, Daken moved like a shadow, silent as tombstones. From the tumbledown rooftops, he could see for miles—better than anyone who might follow her through the twisted labyrinth into Docktown. Hands hidden in her sleeves, the comforting weight of the iron-thrower beneath her arm, No One set off through the sprawl toward the bitter reek of Kigen Bay.
Doubling back. Checking at corners. Watching reflections in dirty shop-front glass. Just like they’d taught her. Her induction into the Kagé had been swift; need dictating pace. After witnessing Yoritomo’s death at the Stormdancer’s hands, a tiny spark had flared inside her, dimly illuminating a formerly lightless corner of her mind. The notion of rebelling—of not only standing apart but working against the government—it simply wasn’t something she’d ever considered possible. But it was surprising how the pillars of an unshakable worldview could be reduced to rubble when a sixteen-year-old girl murders the Lord of the Imperium right in front of you. Impossible notions become plausible in the face of an event that tectonic.
The problem being, of course, she had no way of tracking the Kagé down. No ingress through the doors of the cabal. The spark inside her flickered and dimmed, no kindling to help it flourish. Yoshi kept her clear of the Inochi Riots—told her flatly the systematic murder of thousands of gaijin prisoners for the sake of a flower crop was none of their business. But when the Stormdancer returned and made her speech in the Market Square during Yoritomo’s funeral, when the girl had looked into the crowd and stared right at her, No One had felt the spark burst into ravenous flame. As the Stormdancer had taken to the sky, despite the risks, despite knowing it was foolish, No One had found her fist in the air and tears in her eye and known, simply known she had to do something more.
The very next day, she’d been approached by Gray Wolf.