place?”
Aito’s brows drew down. “I don’t know.”
Unable to contribute, Akakiba drank tea and daydreamed about a hot bath. It was a safe topic to dwell upon, safer than trying to untangle his feelings about the spirit who might or might not be his sister.
“I know what it is!” a creaky voice proclaimed as the door was thrown open. “It’s an energy sink!” The old monk looked nowhere as frail as his voice sounded, his body wiry and his step springy as he came inside.
“Teacher,” Aito said sharply, “it’s not polite to spy on people with your familiar.”
“Feh. It’s the only way I can learn what’s happening around here. Everybody thinks I’m too senile to help. But I’m not, see? I know what’s in that place!” The old man turned to Akakiba. “It was in a valley; isn’t that what you said?”
“Ah, yes.”
The old man nodded vigorously. “I studied energy sinks when I was young and I visited that place because of it. You said it was dead and lifeless; when I was there, it was a lush forest the likes of which you’d never seen. The greens were so bright it hurt the eye, the animals were strong and healthy beyond reason and merely being there made you feel intoxicated with pure life.” He paused to clear his throat noisily. “A cup of tea, perhaps?”
“Of course.” Aito poured a cup for the old man. “This is my teacher, Toshishiro. You may have gathered he has a familiar spirit of his own and uses it unwisely.”
“Terrible,” Toshishiro said at the now empty cup. “You could never brew tea properly, boy. Now, where was I? Yes, energy sinks. They occur here and there, places where spiritual energy gathers over the centuries until it’s like a lake drowning the local vegetation and animal life. Planting a sword like this in there…” He shook his head, either impressed or appalled.
“So the sword soaked in the spare energy,” Aito speculated. “But the life there had adapted to the abundance of spiritual energy, and without it, couldn’t survive.”
“Now you understand. Even if the surrounding forest died, spiritual energy would keep gravitating there and would keep being absorbed by the sword. I shudder to think how much energy it has already absorbed over the years its been missing. I’m glad it’s back in our hands. It must be contained.”
“We have a problem,” Jien said. Heedless of the danger, he’d taken the sword out of the blanket to squint at the glyphs. “The workmanship is amazing, but look at the blade.”
The monks crowded to stare at the naked steel.
“Oh dear,” Toshishiro said.
“What is it?” Akakiba prompted when the silence stretched. He didn’t feel inclined to get close enough to the bare blade to see what they’d noticed. He’d be happiest if he never, ever saw this evil thing again.
“Oh, I didn’t explain that part, did I?” Jien grimaced. “The sword we’re looking for is hundreds of years old. This is an amazing forgery, but it’s far too new to be mistaken for the original.”
Akakiba’s heart sank. “You’re saying there’s more of these horrors out there.”
“Well, yes.”
Chapter Nine
Sanae
T he pulse of stolen energy disappeared from Sanae’s perception, which she took to mean the cursed sword had been neutralized.
She popped in the room where she sensed her brother. Ah, much better. What did you do?
“Containment,” Jien said, indicating a wooden chest covered with carved glyphs. “But don’t be too happy. There’s probably others like it.”
What? Why do you think that? After Jien finished explaining what she’d missed, her mood bordered on cranky. We have to find those things, she growled. They’re hurting our clan.
Akakiba gave her a look and she gave him one right back. He could say all the silly things he wanted about her being an impostor, but she was still a child of the Fox clan.
The old monk named Toshishiro—who’d hardly blinked at her arrival—produced a map marked with
Aito’s brows drew down. “I don’t know.”
Unable to contribute, Akakiba drank tea and daydreamed about a hot bath. It was a safe topic to dwell upon, safer than trying to untangle his feelings about the spirit who might or might not be his sister.
“I know what it is!” a creaky voice proclaimed as the door was thrown open. “It’s an energy sink!” The old monk looked nowhere as frail as his voice sounded, his body wiry and his step springy as he came inside.
“Teacher,” Aito said sharply, “it’s not polite to spy on people with your familiar.”
“Feh. It’s the only way I can learn what’s happening around here. Everybody thinks I’m too senile to help. But I’m not, see? I know what’s in that place!” The old man turned to Akakiba. “It was in a valley; isn’t that what you said?”
“Ah, yes.”
The old man nodded vigorously. “I studied energy sinks when I was young and I visited that place because of it. You said it was dead and lifeless; when I was there, it was a lush forest the likes of which you’d never seen. The greens were so bright it hurt the eye, the animals were strong and healthy beyond reason and merely being there made you feel intoxicated with pure life.” He paused to clear his throat noisily. “A cup of tea, perhaps?”
“Of course.” Aito poured a cup for the old man. “This is my teacher, Toshishiro. You may have gathered he has a familiar spirit of his own and uses it unwisely.”
“Terrible,” Toshishiro said at the now empty cup. “You could never brew tea properly, boy. Now, where was I? Yes, energy sinks. They occur here and there, places where spiritual energy gathers over the centuries until it’s like a lake drowning the local vegetation and animal life. Planting a sword like this in there…” He shook his head, either impressed or appalled.
“So the sword soaked in the spare energy,” Aito speculated. “But the life there had adapted to the abundance of spiritual energy, and without it, couldn’t survive.”
“Now you understand. Even if the surrounding forest died, spiritual energy would keep gravitating there and would keep being absorbed by the sword. I shudder to think how much energy it has already absorbed over the years its been missing. I’m glad it’s back in our hands. It must be contained.”
“We have a problem,” Jien said. Heedless of the danger, he’d taken the sword out of the blanket to squint at the glyphs. “The workmanship is amazing, but look at the blade.”
The monks crowded to stare at the naked steel.
“Oh dear,” Toshishiro said.
“What is it?” Akakiba prompted when the silence stretched. He didn’t feel inclined to get close enough to the bare blade to see what they’d noticed. He’d be happiest if he never, ever saw this evil thing again.
“Oh, I didn’t explain that part, did I?” Jien grimaced. “The sword we’re looking for is hundreds of years old. This is an amazing forgery, but it’s far too new to be mistaken for the original.”
Akakiba’s heart sank. “You’re saying there’s more of these horrors out there.”
“Well, yes.”
Chapter Nine
Sanae
T he pulse of stolen energy disappeared from Sanae’s perception, which she took to mean the cursed sword had been neutralized.
She popped in the room where she sensed her brother. Ah, much better. What did you do?
“Containment,” Jien said, indicating a wooden chest covered with carved glyphs. “But don’t be too happy. There’s probably others like it.”
What? Why do you think that? After Jien finished explaining what she’d missed, her mood bordered on cranky. We have to find those things, she growled. They’re hurting our clan.
Akakiba gave her a look and she gave him one right back. He could say all the silly things he wanted about her being an impostor, but she was still a child of the Fox clan.
The old monk named Toshishiro—who’d hardly blinked at her arrival—produced a map marked with
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