After some moments of pouting, you sheathed your sword. “Very well,” you said. “See if there is another way into the cave.”
As I left, I gave you a quick kiss on the lips. It did not remove the frown from your face. Resentment was a serpent coiled around my throat.
After all I’d done for you, after all I’d given up, you could not be bothered to smile?
“Return safely,” you said. But I was not sure I wanted to.
I set out to follow the patrol. When I was out of your sight, I kicked off my boots. Bare feet were quieter, and I did not need to worry about stepping on something sharp. I wasn’t sure I’d feel it if I did.
I loped through the darkness. Wet dirt stuck to my soles with every step. I opened my mouth and tasted the forest—the sharp tang of metal, savory earth, salty sweat, and sweet, sweet fear. My pulse quickened. Fear. Unmistakable in taste.
Were they afraid someone would spot them?
Were they afraid of me?
Oh, it was a foolish thought, self-centered as could be. But it was a sweet one, too, sweet as the poison assassins make from apple seeds. The closer I came, the easier it was to hear their hushed conversation.
“It’s an exaggeration,” said the man with the bow. “You think one woman did all that? One woman tore twelve men apart? Keichi is telling stories again.”
My tongue lolled out of my mouth, but I found myself smiling. If only you could taste it, Shizuka, perhaps then you would understand—it is better than chilled plum wine, better than kumaq.
Step out of the shadows, they whispered. Let them see you. Hear them scream.
Spittle hit the ground. Somehow in my fear-drunk haze, I’d started drooling. I shook my head. No. There was work to be done.
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and followed them. Twenty, thirty minutes I followed. Our little hiding spot by the river lay near the end of their patrol. Soon, they came up on the cave. It was about as wide across as three horses standing nose to tail, though it did not look like much. Like the earth was yawning. More of a pit than a cave, really. From what I could see, it was a steep walk underground. Two more bandits kept watch here. They wore tattered cloth armor; notched swords hung at their hips.
The two I followed nodded solemnly to the guards. They exchanged some words I did not allow myself to hear. If the demons heard it, they’d encourage me to kill. It was not quite time for that.
So I kept my distance and waited. Eventually, after another ten minutes or so, the guards traded places. The ones formerly standing at the gates began a patrol. I trailed them, too, until finally I came upon our hiding spot.
At first you did not see me. You stood on the edge of the water, looking out, in the direction of the capital. One cannot see Fujino from such a great distance away, but one can see the mountains separating it from Shiseiki. You had the look of a sailor’s wife waiting for her lover.
I called your name.
You jolted, drawing your sword in one motion as you turned. “You are a fool to attack me!”
You slashed at me faster than most can follow. But I am not most, and I jumped to the right before blade met flesh. I held up my hands, did my best to stand straight. Like a person, I thought. I must be a person. Must be human.
“Shizuka,” I said, “it’s me.”
I cannot tell which was more dominant then, for you. Was it the pain of knowing you’d almost hurt me, or was it shock that you had not recognized me?
Either way, you stood, staggered, staring at me as if I were a stranger.
“Am I different?” I asked. For that thought was ice on the back of my neck. My teeth changed in a moment; what if something else had?
“My love,” you said. “Dear one, your eyes…”
I touched them. They felt like eyes. So I went to the river and I knelt there, and I looked at myself.
As a paper lantern glows orange, so did my eyes glow green.
I frowned. Most of the changes to my body had been useful, until now. If the Traitor’s blood was going to shape me in his image, he could at least focus on improving me. Glowing eyes did nothing. In fact, I’d be easier to spot in the dark now.
I closed my eyes and sighed. “It could be worse,” I said.
You touched my face, your touch delicate as a flower petal. I remember how wide your eyes were. “Does it hurt?” you asked. “They look like they are burning.”
“Everything hurts, Shizuka,” I said. “This hurts only a little.”
I pointed toward the cave, eager for something else to talk about. “Two guards by it, two on patrol,” I said.
Whatever you thought about the changes, you said nothing. You looked down for a moment, licked your lips, and joined me in planning. Together we came up with something halfway between your burning the forest down and Ren’s idea of killing them in their sleep.
For the next twenty minutes, we collected pine branches. I bundled them up and tied them together with rope from my saddlebags. Then we waited for the patrols to come around again.
Dispatching them was a simple matter; I will not dwell on it here. When they came near enough to us, I threw my knife at one, and you cut the other down as he moved to investigate the body. I took one of the notched swords—I really wanted the bow the man by the cave had, but this would do for now. With the patrol dead, we had only a few minutes to make our way to the cave. I slung the pine branches over my shoulder and led the way.
When we caught sight of the cave mouth, you drew your sword again. We crept around through the birch and pine, out of sight, until we were behind the guards. I set down the bundle.
Then we killed them, and I took the one man’s bow and quiver.
It is as simple as that, and I am loath to give this any more detail. This was not a great, glorious fight. This was stabbing men in the dark. It would’ve been beneath you had it not been for such a noble cause.
We propped the bodies up with two of the branches and tied them up with rope. Then I fished flint and steel from my deel and got to work setting the remaining branches alight.
Only when the fire was truly raging, only when the burning branches birthed clouds of white smoke, did we continue.
I dropped the bundle into the cave. We stood on either side and waited.
A handful of Yellow Scarves bolted out with stinging eyes, shouting and disoriented. You did not bother announcing yourself. For each cut you made, another bandit fell, simple and solemn as that. This was not something to celebrate. This was not glorious.
I nocked an arrow; I loosed. I tried to isolate what I was doing to the motions. Drawing, loosing. I stared at the arrows and not at their targets. Maybe then I wouldn’t focus so much on the color of their blood, on their fear like wine, on the glimmers like crushed gems as their souls left their bodies.
I thought if I didn’t see it, nothing would happen.