NO MAN RIDES ME. NO SHōGUN. CERTAINLY NO DESPOILER.
Yukiko felt tears of frustration welling in her eyes but refused to let them flow. Blinking hard, she scanned the forest around them, gaze finally coming to rest on the pit trap beside her. It was the work of many men, cut deep into the earth and cleverly concealed. From the look of the walls, the age of the bamboo spikes and bloodstains, she’d guess it had been here for a long time, reset with regularity.
This is the second trap we’ve found in as many days. There are people living up here.
SO?
So, people who set snares have to come back and check them. And we need people to help us with Kin. I can’t take care of him by myself.
Buruu paused, and she felt faint admiration swell inside him. He shook himself, rain spraying from his flanks, anticipation coursing through his veins.
HUNT THE HUNTERS.
Yukiko smiled, lightning reflected in her eyes.
Exactly.
18 Treetop Shadows
The day drowned slowly beneath the constant deluge. Night fell like a hammer, echoes of thunder rolling across the crags as the tempest raged overhead. Yukiko was huddled under an out-cropping of mossy stone, eyes on the pit trap, wondering how much longer the storm could last. As if in answer, the downpour increased in intensity, droplets as fat as her thumb soaking the world through to the bone. Cold and drenched and thoroughly miserable, she cupped her palms together and watched the rain pool in her hands. The water was like glass; clean and crystalline. No toxins, no corrosives, no black stain. It was perfect.
Still, it would be nice if it was a little less wet. Buruu prowled from the darkness, quiet as a mouse under the monsoon’s roar.
At least nobody can hear you in all this.
MIGHTY STORM.
He turned his eyes to the clouds, wings twitching at the sound of thunder.
Do you miss it? Being up there?
. . . MORE THAN ANYTHING.
Regret and guilt swelled inside her as she looked at his severed feathers, rain dripping from the ugly squared edges. She could still recall the sound of the blade shearing them away, the sight of their remnants scattered across polished wood. His tail swept from side to side as he watched the clouds above, chest heaving in a long, deep sigh.
I’m sorry, Buruu.
His growl ended almost before it had begun.
NOT YOUR HAND. NOT YOUR FAULT.
Father said you would moult your feathers. Like a bird. Is that true? TWICE YEARLY. SUMMER AND WINTER.
You’ll be back up there soon.
THERE IS NO SOON. ONLY NOW.
Well, I suppose for now you’re stuck down here with me.
He blinked at her. She smiled, pushed clumsy affection into his mind. A feeling of warmth and gratitude, the sensation of her putting her arms around his neck and holding tight. She felt something inside him shift. Soften.
I’m glad you’re here, Buruu. I’m really glad you’re with me.
THERE ARE WORSE FATES.
Faint amusement glittered in his eyes.
MONKEY-CHILD.
She laughed out loud, chuckles trailing off into a yawn that she had to smother with both hands. She stretched and blinked, shaking herself to stay awake.
YOU ARE TIRED.
Yukiko shrugged, turned her eyes back to the pit trap.
I’m all right. They’re bound to come back and check it soon.
GO REST. I WILL WATCH.
No, I’ll stay with you.
IF THEY COME, I WILL CALL. REST. TEND THE BOY’S WOUNDS. UNLESS YOU WISH HIM DEAD NOW ALSO.
Yukiko made a face but assented, crawling from her foxhole. She ran one hand across his flank in gratitude and thought she heard the beginnings of a purr, deep in his chest. He stalked into the forest, lightning casting stark shadows across the undulating patterns of snow and jet on his fur.
She stole back to the small cave they’d discovered above the fishing pool. The floor was covered in a blanket of dry leaves and branches driven inside by the wind. She’d piled some dead scrub in a corner, hoping it would be dry enough to start a fire later. Kin leaned against the far wall, twitching and murmuring in his sleep, bandages soaking through with fluid. She felt his brow for fever and emptied another hypo of antibiotics into his arm, worried the supply would soon run out.
After nearly an hour of painstaking work and the rasp of flint across the blade of her tantō, she’d managed to cultivate a small spark into a blaze. Buruu had caught two more mountain trout and laid them out for her at the cave mouth. Once cooked, they were delicious; like nothing she’d ever tasted in Kigen. No bitter lotus tang, no hint of corruption. Pure and sweet, juice glistening on her fingers and lips. She sighed, looking out to the dark, wondering where her father was.
Kin woke with a start behind her, sucking in a lungful of air over clenched teeth. He glanced around wildly for a few seconds, fear in his eyes. She turned to look at him, pale and drawn in the fire’s feeble light.
“How do you feel, Kin-san?”
His eyes fell on her as she spoke. He blinked, finding focus, breath coming a little slower.