Inochi

By Linda

Chapter 7

Meijin’s chambers lay at the far end of the house, away from Soujuro’s rooms, which were closer to the slave quarters. I followed Soujuro’s slow, gliding walk, glancing around from beneath my eyelashes. This section of Hamanari’s house was elegant, only the finest of woods, of silk, of porcelain. Nothing was bright or flashy; it was all appealing, in a very understated kind of way. Far better than anything I’d ever seen before.

Slaves were all about, busily doing whatever tasks they’d been appointed. As Soujuro approached, every one of them stopped and bowed low in either respect or fear; sometimes, a mixture of both. Soujuro’s ki was very calm, but the casual cruelty he’d displayed only moments before was still very fresh in my mind, and I had no doubt that should he deem it necessary, he was quite capable of startling ruthlessness.

I didn’t look back but I could feel Kyo’s ki, a familiar, comforting sensation, though it grew more agitated as we walked. I knew he feared he’d be separated from me; we’d grown close during my time with Haruna, with Kyo as my guard. I expected that he’d be sent back to the stables again. Soujuro certainly had enough of the hulking guards all about that Kyo wasn’t needed to watch me. I felt unhappy and unsettled myself; I’d grown attached to him, to his simple, generally happy companionship. He had grown to be the brother I always wished I’d had.

Finally, we stopped before a sliding screen. I could see no difference between it and the ones we’d passed before. Soujuro rapped at the wooden frame, and waited for a murmured command to enter. He slid the door open and swept in, robes rustling softly. Standing just behind him and to the side a little, I saw him bow deeply, his long braid brushing the gleaming wooden floor.

“Soujuro. Enter.” Hamanari’s voice sounded lazy and content. I could scent a brazier’s coals, tea, and something else, something earthy and musky that made me feel...odd. Different. Restless, almost, yearning for something I didn’t understand.

“I have brought the dorei Inochi, as instructed, Hamanari-san. You wished to see him when he’d been cleaned and dressed properly.” Soujuro’s voice was as cool and smooth as an icy lake, his tone calm and respectful.

“Yes. Bring him in, and let me see what a period of proper rations has done for him.”

Soujuro bowed again, and turned back to me. He beckoned me with a slim finger, and when I entered, he firmly slid the door closed against the guards and Kyo. I took two steps in, and with Soujuro’s hand upon my shoulder giving me a prompting push, I knelt and bowed deeply, my forehead touching the smooth floor.

“I thought I smelled goats,” came a sly voice.

In spite of my intentions, I looked up. That silky voice belonged to none other than Kin’iro. The kitsune lay on the rumpled futon, his cheek on Hamanari’s thigh, the picture of complete and utter relaxation. His long blond hair flowed over Hamanari’s lap and his own body like a shining pale golden cloak. He smiled at me, but there was little good humor in it; more like a territorial baring of teeth, and I had a glimpse of his very sharp canines. The length of his golden tail lay draped over his hip and thigh. He had so much long hair, and his tail was so full and fluffy that it took me a moment to realize that I saw entirely too much of his pale, perfect skin.

He was naked.

I felt my face go warm, and looked away quickly. Kin’iro laughed, softly, mockingly.

“Be still, Kin’iro,” Hamanari said quietly. A glance back up, and I saw Kin’iro’s fox ears twitch a bit, but the malicious gleam didn’t leave his big golden eyes.

My attention shifted to the Meijin, sitting cross-legged on the futon. He was dressed in a blue sleep robe, tied so loosely it gapped open to the waist. His chest was firm, and dark with brown hair. His long hair was unbraided, loose and wavy around him, and as long as my own. He had a sleepy look, much like a cat lying in the sun, and I wondered that he was still in bed in the afternoon.

“Come forward, boy.” His voice was as calm and kind as always, soothingly familiar.

Keeping my eyes firmly on the floor, and away from Kin’iro’s lean smooth nakedness, I rose from my obeisance and walked to the edge of the futon. I was very aware of the kitsune’s scent, that rich, musky smell I’d noticed the first time I saw him, the scent that had curled down into my belly and made my flesh grow firm. Though it now made my blood rush faster, made me feel warm, almost hot, I vowed it would not affect me now; I didn’t want to embarrass myself again.

“Hn. You do look better fed, now. Haruna has done well. I think you’ll be quite suitable for my purposes. Though I don’t care for the paint; I think that a bit much.” I could feel Hamanari’s blue gaze intent upon me, looking at me closely from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, that appraising look that had taken me apart and peered inside me when I’d first met him. “I thought you’d prove worthy of the trip to obtain you.”

I wasn’t certain if that required a reply, so I remained silent. I simply wished I knew for a certainty what his purpose was. I dared to watch him from beneath the veil of my lashes.

“I still believe you paid too much gold for him,” Soujuro said. “Five gold pieces.” His tone was frankly disapproving. “You probably could have gotten him for silver. He has absolutely no talent, no skill at anything but manual labor."

“Perhaps.” Hamanari took a sip of tea and placed the cup back on a small wicker tray beside the futon. He ran his fingers over Kin’iro’s tall, shapely, velvety ears, thoughtful. “But skills can be learned, and he’s certainly fair enough to catch the eye, and has the cachet of noble blood, even if his family was as poor as peasants, something no one else needs to know. You won’t need to polish him much, Soujuro---a few basic manners, such as how to walk, to move, to speak properly to his betters. I’m certain the House will be glad to accept him untrained in anything else. And I’m also certain I shall make a very tidy profit, regardless of the gold I paid for him. The exotics are almost always worth their trouble.”

“Very well,” Soujuro said with a little bow. “I don’t think he’s hopeless, nor extraordinarily stupid, but he’ll take a bit of instruction. He’s very rough, crude goods. And I think---no, I know---that given the opportunity, he’ll run. Kitsune blood can prove difficult to keep in one place.”

Heat touched my ears. I hated this, hated how they discussed me as if I was nothing, as if I did not stand before them at all. And all my docility had been as transparent to them, as if I was made of glass, and they could look inside my head at every thought I’d had since the Meijin had bought me.

Hamanari’s hand smoothed over Kin’iro’s fine thick hair, pulling it aside to trail lightly over a band around the kitsune’s long neck. It was a black metal band, with golden characters painted upon it, and as I looked at it, the characters seemed to move. It made my head ache to look at it, and I looked away quickly for a moment, nausea sweeping over me.

“Hn. A valid observation, Soujuro. Take him to grandfather. Collar him, and you’ll free up a guard who can be put to better use elsewhere, rather than simply standing over his every moment. He’s enough kitsune it will probably take a warded collar to keep him in place.”

I saw a flash of something pained and despairing in Kin’iro’s eyes at Hamanari’s casual words, but then it faded away quickly as if it had never been, replaced by that all too familiar superiority.

“As you wish. I’ll find a place for him tonight, and Kin’iro can proceed with lessons in the morning.” Soujuro pulled his little book from his sleeve, and made notes in it.

Kin’iro? Kin’iro was to be my teacher? Wide-eyed, I looked over at the kitsune. He looked as displeased as I felt, his perfect face clouding over, his golden eyes snapping.

“This creature? You wish me to instruct this stupid creature? I already have two students right now.” Kin’iro flowed to his knees, and I averted my eyes again as his long tail lashed in agitation, leaving him exposed. His complete disregard of his own nakedness was as startling to me as the nakedness itself. I’d been brought up to regard nudity as shameful, as something to be hidden, and the casual way these people stripped or had me strip was mortifying.

“Now you have three,” Soujuro said placidly. “Surely Ayano and Genichi are not such difficult students that you cannot divide your attentions. I had thought you more clever than that, Kin’iro.”

The insult was open, and completely unmistakable. Kin’iro hissed at him, exposing those long sharp canines, his ears laid back against his hair, and involuntarily, I took a step back, though the hostility was directed toward Soujuro, not myself. The ki radiating from him was bright and fierce, like those of the demons who lived in the forest and occasionally stole goats from us. I knew just how sharp those long nails were, and his canine teeth looked very keen, far longer and sharper than my own. Though Soujuro did not move, nor his calm face change expression, I felt the spike of fear ripple through his ki. I’d seen animals ripped to pieces in the forest before, and had no doubt that Kin’iro, for all his usual cool polish, was one step from pouncing on Soujuro and leaving him in small bloody pieces.

“Enough, Kin'iro.” Hamanari’s voice was firm and strong. Kin’iro subsided immediately, his face sullen, his ears still flat, his mouth curved downward in a frown. He slid halfway behind Hamanari, his arms going around the Meijin’s shoulders, long slim hands caressing the Meijin’s chest. Nuzzling into Hamanari’s loose hair, he slanted a cold look in my direction that made me want to shiver, and his tail switched quickly in displeasure, like a cat’s.

“It is settled. Inochi. You shall stay here in the main house, in the personal slave quarters with Genichi. In the morning, Soujuro will bring you to Kin’iro for training in manners, and bearing, and simple ceremonies. You would do well to pay heed to Kin’iro; he is clever and graceful, and can teach you much if only you are bright enough to pay attention.” Hamanari’s hand fell to Kin’iro’s pale bare thigh, stroking gently, and some of the hostility went out of Kin’iro’s golden eyes. But not all; they fairly sparkled with malice when he looked at me.

Soujuro stepped up behind me, and gave me a nudge. I bowed low, as gracefully as possible, and he nudged me again. “Thank the Meijin for his consideration of your worthless self.”

“Th-thank you, Meijin. I am not worthy of your care.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but I said them as civilly and politely as I knew. I wasn’t stupid; I knew my best chances lay with making the Meijin as pleased as possible with me. Though I could not really see the point of Kin’iro’s lessons, I would do as well as I could with them; they might prove useful in some way or another. I would pay close attention when they taught me to read and write, as that was the skill that would earn a living for Mai and myself when I did manage to escape.

Soujuro tugged my sleeve, and I turned away, following him to the door. Turning to go through the door, I saw out of the corner of my eye Kin’iro slither forward to sit astride the Meijin’s lap in a fluid, graceful motion. He wrapped his arms around Hamanari’s shoulders and buried his face in his throat, and I saw the flash of his pink tongue on the Meijin’s skin. Hamanari’s hands were dark in comparison to the kitsune’s skin as they moved in a long, leisurely caress down Kin’iro’s bare, smooth back, skimming over the dark golden stripe that ran down his spine, then down further to cup his buttocks and pull him closer. Kin’iro’s long, full tail flicked again, but it was a slow, leisurely movement that somehow made me think of pleasure, not dislike or disdain. His scent rose strongly again, unavoidable and irresistable, and I almost bumped into Soujuro trying to get out of the room, away from its power and the effect it had upon me.

The older man gave me a push away from him that sent me staggering into the wall opposite, and smoothed his robes before sliding the door closed once more. “Are you in such a hurry you must jostle me? Touching me without my express permission can earn you stripes over your back, dorei.”

“I’m sorry, Soujuro-san. I’m very sorry.” I bowed very low, distressed. I could scent Kin’iro more strongly now, and I heard soft noises coming from behind the closed shoji that made me shift nervously, made heavy heat pool low in my belly, made my flesh stir.

“Pay heed from now on.” Soujuro turned his attention to Kyo, standing between the two guards, his brown eyes fixed on me. “You. The stupid one. Return to your duties in the stables. You’re no longer needed here.”

“Soujuro-san?” Kyo’s eyes moved from me to him, wide and hurt, like a small boy who had been slapped in the face.

“You heard me. You’re not a house slave; you have no business in the house now. The Meijin will call for you when he needs you. Be gone.” Soujuro dismissed him with a negligent wave of his slim hand, and for all purposes, Kyo no longer existed for him. He turned his sharp grey gaze on me. “You. Inochi. Come with me.”

So speaking, he turned and proceeded down the hallway. One of the guards took me by the arm, none too gently, and propelled me forward. I looked back over my shoulder toward Kyo, dragged in the opposite direction by the other guard. I’d not even had a chance to say goodbye. Kyo looked as if he might cry, his dark eyes bright with unshed tears. I watched him until the guard pulled him around the corner, and just like that, Kyo was gone, out of my life. I felt suddenly very alone, abandoned, adrift and afraid.

I soon lost track of where we went, and in truth, it didn’t matter. I kept my head down, and walked as the guard directed. After a few more moments, the guard stopped, and I looked up as Soujuro rapped on the door before us and pulled it open. A harsh scent of chemicals, metallic and sharp, reached my nose, mixed in with the smell of herbs and other things I couldn’t readily identify. It made my sensitive nose burn, and I rubbed at it, mildly distressed. Soujuro went into the room, and I followed unwillingly, pushed by the guard.

A whirr sped by my ear, and I turned to catch a flash of movement. It flew by again in an erratic, looping flight, then came to hover before me. A hikaru; I knew them well from the deepest woods.

When I had been a child, exploring the forest away from home, they'd found me, and I'd been fascinated by them, by their beauty, and they'd seemed equally as interested in me, darting about me, talking in their chiming voices, following me about until I went back home.

This one hovered almost motionless before my face. It was a small creature, not quite as large as my hand, naked, delicate, genderless, with pale opalescent skin and a mass of hair that changed hue even as I watched. It had huge eyes in its sharp, pretty little face, like the hair, ever-changing---blue, at the moment. Sprouting from between its shoulderblades were two long sets of wings, like a dragonfly, blurry with speed.

Its eyes changed to pink as it studied me. It whirred around my head, and I felt the pat of its tiny hand against my cheek, then against the point of my ear.

"We see you," it said, voice like tiny bells. "We see you all."

Before I could ask what it meant, it flew away in an erratic, looping flight through the room, and Soujuro spoke.

“Tetsu Sensei?”

A little rustle of movement, like a mouse, caught my attention. An elderly man, his face as wrinkled and wizened as a dried fruit beneath a wispy cap of white hair peered out from over the lid to a trunk in the far corner. The eyes that fastened upon us were very bright and clear and black, and when he smiled, it showed nothing but gums. I had never seen anyone so old, not even Father, who had been the oldest man I’d ever seen.

Soujuro bowed, low and respectful, for once without his usual mocking air. “Tetsu Sensei. I have brought another dorei here for you to craft a warded collar, if you please.”

Tetsu closed the lid to the trunk, and dusted his twiggy hands off before coming closer. Small and thin, he was almost lost inside his dirty robes, which were stained and burned in various places. He smelt like the room, harsh, metallic, and vaguely medicinal. He peered at me closely, then rubbed his nose with a blue-tinted finger, and sneezed. I could sense his ki easily; it was quite strong, fluttering at the edges of my mind, bright and sharp like a knife. The curse responded, moving lazily within me, and I squashed it down firmly. Not now, in this place where there were so many breakable things.

“Ah. Soujuro-san. Are you certain my grandson wishes this one collared?” His voice was rusty and grating, as if he seldom talked to anyone.

“Yes, Sensei. That is his wish.”

Tetsu moved even closer, a sidling gait that reminded me of a little spider scuttling over the floor. He stared up at me with sharp black eyes, and I could feel the brush of his ki against my own. He then reached out and poked me in the chest with a bony finger. I withdrew a half step, bumped into the guard, who put a meaty hand on my shoulder to hold me in place. I rubbed my chest, frowning; it had hurt. If I could have somehow rubbed against my ki in the same way, I would; I felt rather like a cat that had its fur rubbed the wrong way, and I didn't know how to smooth it down.

The hikaru buzzed over our heads again, and the guard swatted at it, but I knew he would never hit it; the hikaru was simply too quick. It flew by me again and gave my hair a sharp tug, then landed on Tetsu's narrow shoulder. "Is more," it said to Tetsu, who gave a short nod.

“Are you selling him to the Guild?” Tetsu peered up at Soujuro, then over at me once again, a thoroughly assessing look, much as Haruna had, the first time she saw me, and I felt the brush of his ki against mine again, and felt gooseflesh rise on my arms.

Soujuro frowned, sliding his hands into his voluminous sleeves. “The Guild? No. That was never a consideration, to my knowledge. The Meijin plans to place him in a House.”

“You’re sending this one to a House?” Tetsu frowned in turn and scratched his head, and his thin hair stood up for a moment, then flopped over, like too-long grass. “A waste of potential, I say. Better to sell him to the Guild. Even wiser to ~give~ him to the Guild as a present. Curry favor, and all that. Narahiko-sama, the current Guild Meijin, would be certain to look kindly upon Hamanari if you did such a thing.”

“The Meijin has no need to curry favor with the Mage’s Guild. We have you to serve our purposes, and in exchange, you have the time and resources to indulge yourself in research. A perfectly adequate situation, in my opinion.”

“Saa....” Tetsu peered up at me again. “Kitsune eyes. Strong ki, but no control. I say you’d fare best handing this one over to the Guild for proper training. This much power untrained can be quite a problem. All sorts of accidents can happen.”

I could feel my ears burn at his words; it was as if he could see all the times the curse had broken free and caused problems for those around me, and myself when Rei caught me to beat me for it. I kept my gaze to the floor and clasped my hands together so tightly my knuckles were white against my skin.

Sourjuro's voice was dismissive. “Well, that’s the problem of the one who buys him, isn’t it? All I wish is a warded collar to keep him in place.”

“Hn. As you wish. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when something happens.”

Tetsu moved through the cluttered tables, picking up this and that, seemingly at random, the hikaru fluttering about him like a drunken firefly. I felt anxiety begin to curl within me; the hair at the nape of my neck rose. Within me, I felt the curse begin to stir, increasing my fear, which in turn made the curse more restless. I clamped down on it even more firmly, afraid it would spiral out of control. He finally stopped at a table and spread out a thin black ribbon of metal, just like the one Kin’iro wore around his neck.

“A simple warded collar, just to keep him in, I take it?” Those black eyes peered closely at me again, and I shifted nervously. This whole place, with its crucibles and herbs and chemicals, felt both familiar, and fearful, though I could not say why, exactly. I tried to chase the thought, but it eluded me, and I gave up. Instinctively I glanced around, looking for an escape route, and saw nothing. The guard’s hand tightened on my shoulder, painfully, holding me in place.

Ki began building, growing stronger, filling the room, and the source, the focus, was the small elderly man murmuring softly. Tetsu painted characters over the top of the ribbon, naming them as he worked, and each one held a sense of tangible power. I could feel each one whisper against my skin, and the curse stirred restlessly within me in the presence of so much purposeful ki. He glanced up at me from beneath bushy brows.

“Do you change, boy?”

His question startled me. My mouth felt suddenly very dry. “C-change, Sensei?”

“Yes.” His sharp eyes studied me very closely, and I felt trapped, as if I was in a cage. “Do you have a natural form you can change yourself into?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, and I’m sure my confusion was clearly readable on my face, because he grunted a little. “Never mind. I suppose the blood is too diluted for transformation by will. That makes things somewhat less complicated.” He continued to mutter words as he painted them, and with each syllable, I grew more restless and uncertain what to do. I only knew I wanted, I ~needed~ to be away from this place.

Finally, he was finished, and lay the long black metal ribbon out on the bench to dry for a moment as he put away the gold ink. He meant that for me, and though I wasn’t sure what a warded collar was, the talk of freeing up a guard made me think that if the band went around my neck, flight would become impossible. The curse slithered through me, down my spine, growing stronger, whispering to me to run, to flee, to escape. I didn’t want that...that ~thing~ around my neck, and the more I looked at it, at the characters that seemed to shimmer against the blackness, the less I wanted it on me.

Tetsu placed his hands over the metal ribbon, and a blue light began to emanate from his palms. I could hear the soft whirr of the hikaru's wings as it fluttered above Tetsu's hands, and while the hikaru always seemed to glow, now it began to shine brightly, its hair shifting colors so quickly I couldn't name them before it became a different color.

I shook my head, my heart thumping wildly in my chest and my breathing faster, shallower. I wanted to put my hands up, to push against something to keep it from overwhelming me, but I could see nothing to fight against. The curse swelled within me, bubbling like a pot ready to go to boil, and I could feel it just on the inside of my skin, ready to escape. “No. No. I...can’t....”

Then, with a silent popping sensation that made my inner ears throb, the glow faded, and Tetsu stepped back, his mouth quirked in evident satisfaction. The hikaru faded back to its natural soft glow, hair a violet color. Tetsu ran a hand through his thin wild hair, making it stand even more on end.

“Done.” He handed the metal ribbon to Soujuro, who took it with a respectful bow. “But don’t put it on here...I still remember the things Kin’iro broke years ago when you collared him.”

“Many thanks as usual, Sensei, for efficient work.”

Tetsu folded his arms over his chest. “Tell that damn grandson of mine he’s being a fool. This boy doesn’t belong in a House, he belongs in the Guild.” The hikaru landed on his shoulder, patted his wrinkled neck, then leaned in and bit his pendulous earlobe. I watched as its pearly body became suffused with pink as it drank, and I recoiled, looking away, only looking back when I heard the flutter of its wings after it finished.

It didn't seem to bother Soujuro; his face was as smooth as always. “I will tell him, Sensei, but his mind is firm upon this issue. And once the Meijin’s mind is settled, little changes it.”

The old man made a disapproving sound. “Whatever. Outside, with the lot of you. You’re throwing off my schedule. I’m a busy man.”

Soujuro bowed deeply, and with a gesture for me to follow, swept out of the room in a soft whisper of silk. The guard gave me a push, and I followed, all too glad to be out of there. Panic curled in my belly, tangling with the fear and loathing already there, and it seemed my feet wanted to drag, to trip me up on the way out.

Out in the hallway, I fell to one knee again, and Soujuro made an impatient noise. “What is the matter with you, boy? Can you not do something as simple as walking?”

“I’m very sorry, Soujuro-san,” I whispered, as the guard jerked me to my feet again. He wrenched my shoulder in the process, but I was too afraid to feel much pain. “Please don’t put that on me...it’s...it’s not right....”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t have you trying to run every time my back is turned, and I know you will...I can see it by the color of your eyes. Kitsune blood is hard to tame, to hold in one place, and I can’t be bothered to keep a guard on you every moment. We should have done this the moment you stepped on the property. An oversight on my part, I’m afraid.”

The metal ribbon hung from his slim fingers, and looking at it, I had the same sense I had when looking at something fearsome, or utterly repugnant. The curse stirred in me, more restless, whispering to escape, to run, and I almost jittered in nervousness. I could not bear it, and when the guard gave me another rough shove, I stumbled, gained my feet, and bolted past Soujuro, completely panicked.

My rational mind knew I couldn’t escape, knew I’d be punished, and punished terribly, for this. But the elemental part of me, the part that feared the magic, that feared having myself bound to this place, held firm control of my mind and body, pushing aside logical thought. I heard Soujuro’s voice, calling my name sharply, but I didn’t care. I pelted down the hallway, my feet quiet compared to those of the guard who set out after me.

I had no idea where I was in this big house; the hallways all looked alike, and I hadn’t paid attention when they’d brought me this way. My entire body ached to be free, and north, with my home and the deep woods, pulled me like a beacon. I skidded around the corner, my feet in their tabi sliding on the polished wood, and almost ran right into a woman slave with her arms full of linen. Then I was past her, dodging the others who happened into my path, gaining speed down the long straight hallway. Those who saw me coming flattened against the walls, giving me room, or perhaps giving ground to the guard who pursued me. It didn’t matter. My whole being shrieked to be out of there, out into the open, where I could really run. If I got to open ground, I knew they’d not be able to catch me.

Taking one intersection brought me suddenly upon a guard, and taking in my speed and my wild-eyed look, he knew I was attempting escape. He pushed off from the wall, and lumbered after me. I skidded to a stop and dove down another hallway, so close to the first guard that his hand passed through my whipping hair, catching a few strands in his fingers. The sharp pain in my scalp was nothing; all I wanted was freedom.

He swore fiercely as I slipped by him, then was merely background noise. I could hear them raising an alarm, sharp blasts of warning whistles, and knew I had to get free of the house before they managed to trap me in some hallway between them.

Another turn, and this hallway I recognized; it was the one leading to Soujuro’s quarters. The sliding door was open, as he’d left it, and I could see his outer shoji screen open to the outside. I almost fell as I skidded to a stop, and dove in. I scattered his possessions as I tore through his room, my entire being focused on that open door and the promise of freedom.

A leap took me out the open screen, and another, off the wooden veranda, and out into the yard. Open space, and I could ~run~. Five long, loping paces, and I was up to full speed, arms and legs pumping hard, running as I’d never run before. The courtyard and the guards trying to close in from the sides were merely streaks in my peripheral vision, and though they tried to cut me off, to flank me, I was too quick for them. I dodged past another guard, and then tore through the pathway between the pens, heading for the wall lying north of Haruna’s clinic. If I could scale it, I’d be free to run, to hide in the forests and fields, and they’d never catch me.

They’d not put that abomination around my neck. I would never let them do it. I was vaguely aware the terror I had of the collar was not rational, was not all my own, but part of blurry, long-forgotten memories that were not entirely mine bubbling slowly to the surface of my consciousness.

Something whizzed past my shoulder with a sharp whining sound; I caught a glimpse of white-feathered fletching as it went by. An arrow. I dared a glance back as I ran, and saw one of the guards standing poised with a long bow, bringing another arrow to bear upon me. I had a second to alter my course before another one whipped by me, just skimming past my upper arm and thudding into the brush beyond me.

Kyo’s words came to me in a rush—they killed slaves who tried to escape. But I didn’t care, too frantic to get away, and already lost, even if I did stop and surrender now. I was damned, no matter what my course of action, and decided if I would be killed regardless, I’d give the attempt to escape every ounce of strength I had left.

Two more arrows zipped by me, skimming far too close for comfort before I saw the wall looming ahead of me. It was taller than I had originally thought, but still, I thought I could scale it, especially if I took it at a run. I gathered myself, pouring all my strength into speed, and leapt, flinging myself at the unforgiving stone.

My leap carried me high enough I could just catch hold of the rough sharp stones along the top, though it was easily twice and half again my height. I hit it hard, my chest slamming into stone, almost knocking the wind from me, and then scrambled for footing, pulling myself up by the strength of my arms. I was stronger now from regular meals and Haruna’s work schedule; far stronger than I had been before. I had one foot wedged on a small protruding stone, giving me leverage, when an arrow smashed into the wall next to my thigh, close enough to barely nick the skin. I felt something splatter on my bare skin, and then my leg went cold. Cold, and dead, as if I’d slept on it, leaving it numb and tingling and useless. My toes slipped from the small foothold I’d gained, and hung there, unable to move.

I shrieked in anger and frustration, and tried to pull myself up with my other leg, but my hands slipped, the skin of my palms ripped by the rough stones. I crashed to the hard ground onto my back, and the pain of the fall spread a web of fire throughout my back and limbs. I lay there stunned a handful of heartbeats, gasping for air, then rolled to my side and looked behind me. I could see the guards closing in, only paces behind me now, and their faces were dark and terrifying and intent. Most of them had taken the whips or canes from their belts, and I knew they would beat me senseless, if not to death.

I didn’t want to die yet.

The curse tore through me, roaring, demanding freedom, pounding in my head as my heart pounded in my chest, and I let it go. I felt my lips pull back in a snarl, baring my teeth, an expression I’d never before worn on my own face, but familiar, nonetheless, and I heaved myself to my good leg, bracing myself against the wall. I’d not meet them groveling on my belly. Anger such as I’d never before felt coursed through me, as cold and cleansing as spring water, and whispered words echoed through my mind, words I’d never heard in this life, but that somehow, I still remembered.

The air shimmered around me, like a pebble tossed into a still pond. Ki pulsed in me, through me, much like it had that night at Haruna’s clinic. But this was not the white ki of that night; this flashed red and black before my vision, fierce and fiery and terrible. It crackled along my nerves, along my skin, building higher and hotter, seeking freedom.

Seeking to destroy.

I felt my bloody hands unclench, and almost as if someone else controlled them, and my fingers spread widely, encompassing the area before me, framing it for my vision, gone suddenly red and orange, like a flame. Power spiraled upward from deep within me, growing ever stronger with each gasping breath I took. A growl rumbled from within my chest, a deep, wild sound that had never before come from me. I could feel my robes flutter and my hair fly wildly, though there was no wind to move either.

The curse whispered in my head, strong and fierce, and my mouth formed the whispers into words. Words of power, of hate, of destruction. As I spoke them, my hands and fingers moved in patterns that brought the words to life.

“Nikushimi.” Hatred.

“Shuurai.” Lightning strike.

“Okibi.” Blazing fire.

Each word made the power surge higher within me, like a leaping fire, roaring like a wild animal, demanding I free it. It pulsed within me, intense and throbbing. Almost as if I watched from a distance, I could see the guards skidding to a halt, the determination on their faces shifting into uncertainty, into fear. I bared my teeth again, showing sharp canines, and had I tall ears to lay back against my head, and a tail to lash in anger, I would have done so.

Rekka no tenmou, the voice inside my head whispered, the last phrase of the spell that would free me of these people forever.

Rekka no tenmou. Fire of Heaven’s Vengeance.

I thrust a clenched fist to the sky, felt the power rage up my spine, gather there and coalesce, clean and sharp and frigidly cold. Cold with heaven’s fire.

“Rekka.” My voice dropped deeper, and echoed with a power that was not my own, power that belonged to an ancestor long gone, driven by the fiery and implacable strength of his wrath. My robes and hair whipped hard in the wind of my ki. “Rekka no---“

“Inochi! No! No! Inochi! Stop!”

The strident voice was like a blade, cutting through the whispering, and it broke my concentration, made me pause. I knew that voice, responded to its frantic plea. The inner voice faltered, then rose up again, strong and fierce, demanding I say the last phrase, complete the spell.

Free the fire to consume them all.

Haruna pushed through the gathered men, appearing between two guards who had frozen in place, uncertain. Her long grey braids whipped in the ki-wind, and her sharp face was as white as milk, but utterly determined.

Haruna.

Rekka no tenmou. ~Rekka no tenmou~. The voice became strident inside me, demanding I say it demanding I complete the spell. My mouth opened to obey, to say the words of power, to call the fire, but nothing came out, as if her red gaze stopped any sound from escaping.

“Inochi. Pull it back. Rein it in. You can do it. Control it again.” Her red eyes were very bright, compelling, and her voice rang with authority.

“H-Haruna?” I felt suddenly uncertain; the anger that had controlled me before slipped when confronted by someone I cared for, and did not want to see harmed. The power that had seized me, shaken me, taken me over, frightened me by its very strength, began to tremble, to weaken, though the voice roared inside me in frustration, wailing for freedom as the part that was me alone came rushing back up inside my head. Slowly, I lowered my clenched fist, power still tingling in my fingers, though not as strong and overwhelming as before.

Haruna edged closer, her hands open and outspread. “Inochi...you don’t want to hurt anyone. It is not you who desires to hurt these people, is it?”

I blinked; the red-orange haze that had colored my vision with fire faded a little, and I could feel my ki swirl, confused, and start to lose focus. My body began to tremble, then shake harder as my rational mind grew stronger, taking back control from the terrible cold anger, as I realized exactly what I’d almost done.

I had almost killed, and without a single regret. Horror swept through me, overriding everything else, and I shook harder.

“No...no, Haruna.” I held out my hands to her, beseeching. “Please, Haruna, help me...it’s so big inside me....”

Denied escape, the curse roared and roiled within me, like a snake of fire inside my head, and I went to my one good knee, my hands going to my head. It hurt; it hurt so much I could scarcely breathe. I closed my eyes, willing it to subside, willing the power to obey me and dissipate.

But it was too much to push back inside me; it would not obey me, and I felt it snap and snarl within me, felt it beginning to push its way to my fingertips, demanding release, and demanding it ~now~. My eyes popped open and widened as I realized that it would not simply lie back like a chastened dog. Desperate for something, anything, to siphon it off, I shuffled through memories so old, yet so strong, so overpowering.

I sat up, and flung my hands to the sky. The power leapt, crackling along my skin, red-gold and fiery.

“~Inadzuma~!”

The world whited out, burned away by the flash of lightning that tore across the sky. The resultant crash of thunder deafened me, threw me face-first onto the cold soil. My fingers tightened in the coarse grass, seeking an anchor, something, anything, to ground me to the solidity of the earth.

And then the power was gone, subsiding back within me, leaving me in control of my own body again. I sobbed with relief and fear and a weariness so complete it crushed me as would a sudden rockfall or a huge tree falling atop me.

A warm hand came to rest on my back, then on my head. I knew that touch. It was Haruna, comforting me. I let her tug me up, let her wrap her arms tightly around me, though I was almost twice her size. Her heart beat comfortingly beneath my ear, and her rough voice rose and fell, soothing, wrapping me in familiarity.

Just as I began to relax, to let go the tightly coiled tension of my muscles, a hand landed on my back, and big fingers tightened in my hair and robe and jerked me away from the warmth of her embrace.

My eyes flashed open again, and I saw Haruna dragged away from me, struggling and swearing ferociously in a guard’s iron grip. I went limp in the grasp of the one that held me, and tipped back my head, closing my eyes, baring my throat for him to slit. I wondered if it would hurt to die like that, but I was too tired to care if it would or not. When I didn’t feel the cold kiss of a blade on my skin, I opened my eyes, confused.

Soujuro’s face swam into focus, grey eyes as dark as stormclouds, and as threatening. He stared down at me for a handful of heartbeats then he raised his hand. The backhanded blow of his fist caught me across the right cheek, snapped my head to the side. I could taste coppery blood well up in my mouth where my teeth cut the inside of my cheek, and it trickled from the corner of my mouth down my chin. Too weak and exhausted to fight anymore, I let myself hang slack in the guard’s grip. The side of my face throbbed from pain, but it was minor compared to the fire that still smoldered along every nerve in my body.

“Put this upon him.” Soujuro’s voice was like a winter wind. From the corner of my eye, I saw the warded collar in his fist, and the fear rose up again, dulled and blunted by exhaustion. “Then take him to Tetsu Sensei. After that, take him to Kuroda for punishment.” Those now-dark eyes swept contemptuously over me. “Don’t kill him. Don’t break anything. Don’t leave any marks that will scar. Don’t ruin him for sale to the House. Otherwise, Kuroda may do as he wills.”

Soujuro handed the collar to another guard, and with a swirl of red robes, was gone, without a second look back. With a nasty, toothy smile, the guard turned back to me, dangling the collar from his fingers. I struggled weakly, fear turning to terror as they pinned me roughly to the ground.

At the first touch of the warded collar on my skin, the curse within me shrieked in outrage and stirred, but was still too weak to do more than that. It took a moment to realize the shrieks I heard were real, and came from me, from my own throat.

Mercifully, one of the guards raised his fist, and consciousness fled in a shower of red stars.

Chapter Eight

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