Dragon Island (22 page)

I begin the second verse and Kitsune joins her voice with mine so that the song grows in power and beauty.

The Tengu quiet and take roost so as to better listen.

Halfway through the song, I see a single tear swell and then fall from Yamanba’s eye. It crashes to the wooden floor, creating a large puddle.

That’s when I turn it on!

I have her, now. Yamanba may be the giant here, but it’s she who now rests in the palm of my hand. With the spell I conjure over her through the song, she is mine to command. I can move her heart and mind at whim, making her experience the bleakest depths of sorrow one moment and the greatest of joys the next.

By the time we finish, Yamanba is sitting on the floor, Ishiro free from her grasp, her face cradled into her hitched knees, her body racked with sobs.

“Go!” she commands. “Take the flower and go! My Tengu will carry you home. The beauty of your gift is simply too much to bear!”

“Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird!...”

—Quote from a popular 1940’s radio serial

I
fly free through the air above Dragon Island. I’ve done this once already, when the archaeopteryx-rex attacked me during my first days in this land of ogres, ghosts, and demons. It was before I met Kitsune, Ishiro, or the Toho villagers and their twin priestesses, the
shobijin
.

Little did I know then that I’d soon be soaring through the sky with the aid of birdmen after facing down a giantess in a quest to win a magical, golden flower.

I mean, you can’t make this stuff up!

This experience bears no comparison to my first free flight. After overcoming my initial terror, I’m actually enjoying myself.

The birdman, or rather, the tengu, carrying me takes great care to make my air travel as comfortable as possible. He constantly switches his grip to keep me from getting too sore (Again, this was nerve-wracking at first, for obvious reasons!) and warns me when he’s about to make any sudden maneuvers.

That’s right.

He talks to me.

In English, no less.

Maybe Yamanba taught them, using books that washed ashore? Or maybe one of those piles of bones back in Yamanba’s over-sized birdcage was once an English sailor?

I don’t know. And frankly, I don’t want to take the time to consider it.

My attention is elsewhere at the moment.

The savage landscape of
Kaiju
Island
sprawls out beneath me, the crown emerald in a chain of smaller jade stones surrounded by endless blue sea.

We pass over herds of quadruped kaiju, all of them equal parts dinosaur and giraffe, migrating from one end of the island to other through fields of tall, swaying grass.

We reach the
Island
’s deep woodlands and I yell with fear and delight as the whipping, forked tail of some great dragon suddenly breaches the forest canopy only to disappear again just as quickly.

“She was a big one!” Kitsune calls from beside me, her voice competing with the rushing wind and the beating wings of the Tengu.

She and Ishiro have their own aerial chauffeurs.

“You mean that he was a big one!” Ishiro shouts.

Kitsune gives him a reprimanding look.

“Okay, okay. She!”

We leave the dense forest and fly above the chain of mountains dividing the island. My eyes grow wide with fear as flocks of monstrous, winged beasts leave their cliff-side perches to confront us, the invaders of their territory.

I sigh in relief when they retreat, apparently having learned to fear the Tengu in some previous battle.

Soon, the volcano-top home of the shobijin—what I later learn is called Ryuu’s Mouth—appears in the distance. The Tengu furl their wings and the three of us scream with frightened glee as we plummet through the air for the priestess’ vine-draped house. I’m surprised to see an encampment of Toho already outside, awaiting us.

The Tengu land with ease despite the extra burden Kitsune, Ishiro and I present. I turn to face my flyer, having to stare up at his long, red beak of a nose.

“Thank you,” I say.

He nods.

“We did only as our mistress commanded. However—”

My eyes grow wide with disbelief as the tengu actually kneels before me. He bows his head and removes one of the necklaces of beads draped around his neck. He holds it out to me. It’s a chain of black pearls with feathers bookending a single, teardrop-shaped stone in its middle.

I reluctantly bow my head to allow him to place the necklace around my neck.

He does so then stands.

“Yamanba was not the only one who received your gift this day.” the tengu says.

I recall how he and the other birdmen settled down to listen as Kitsune and I sang the Toho song of gratitude.

“Now, like Yamanba, we also owe you a gift in return.”

The tengu reaches out and touches the necklace’s teardrop stone with his index finger.

“Should you ever need us, think upon this stone.

“We will come.”

We trade nods. Then the tengu and his brothers launch into the air and disappear over the horizon.

I stare at the point of their vanishing for several minutes, the sheer weirdness of my situation having reached up and smacked me in the face.

I feel a hand come to rest on my shoulder.

“Momotaro-sai.”

I turn and see Ishiro standing before me, the golden flower in his outstretched hand.

“You go—” I start.

Ishiro cuts me off.

“It was your victory. So it is also your privilege.”

I look at Kitsune. She nods in agreement.

I take the flower from Ishiro’s hand. The power of it throbs beneath my finger tips. I walk between my two companions toward the shobijins’ house and the Toho surrounding it. The village elders stand at the head of the gathered crowd. They watch me approach in complete silence.

I reach them and hold up the flower. It reflects the sun’s light, bathing the three elders in a golden glow.

They bow and I return the gesture.

“We knew you had accomplished your task when our village was blessed with the successful birth of twin girls,” Tanuki says with an approving grin. “They will make a fine pair of shobijin, someday.”

He gives me a wink.

“But not today, eh?”

I look past him, hoping to see the new babies cradled in the crook of their mother’s arms. There’s a smiling young girl holding what appears to be two furry kaiju cubs, but no babies are present, twins or otherwise.

Oh well.

They would be newborns, after all. It would be ridiculous, not to mention unwise, for the mother to drag them up the mountainside just to greet me.

I turn and face Ishiro’s father.

“I was wrong about you, Momotaro-sai,” Mujina says.

Dang! It looks like Ishiro’s nickname for me is here to stay.

“You truly are Kintaro’s heir.”

We exchange bows and I move to Bakeneko. She gives me a curt nod and a smile. The latter fails to reach her eyes. I linger for a moment, but it quickly becomes obvious she has no words for me, praise or otherwise.

I guess two out of three ain’t so bad.

I turn and walk up to the house of the
shobijin
. I glance back over my shoulder at Kitsune and Ishiro, then down at the flower in my hands. The thrum of its power now courses up my arms and into my chest like an electric current. The feeling is pleasant, but I will be glad when I’m rid of it. Its magic is just too much for a simple Cali-boy like me to endure for any real length of time.

I take a deep breath.

“Raymond, uh, Momotaro humbly calls on you, great
shobijin
! I’ve Yamanba’s flower!”

Silence.

Even the cicadas have gone quiet.

I glance back at Tanuki. He gestures with his hands, urging me to venture inside the creeper-covered house.

I turn, take another deep breath, push back the dangling creepers, and step inside.

The
shobijin
sit cross-legged in the house’s sole room. But they look different now—healthier. Most notably, the creeper vines have retreated away from them as though the mere proximity of Yamanba’s golden flower had already begun to produce a rejuvenating effect.

“Approach—” Sister Momoko says.

“Heir of Kintaro,” Sister Mosura finishes.

I close the distance and kneel before them. I offer up the flower, bowing my head as I hold it out to them. I feel the sisters’ hands simultaneously grasp the flower, their fingers brushing mine in the process.

I’m not exactly sure what happens next. There’s a brilliant flash of golden light and the sensation of what I would guess would be like being struck by lightning, minus the harsher effects.

The next thing I know, I’m on my back, looking up at the shobijin. They stand before me, their robes appearing brand new, the oldness of their faces and skin replaced by mere distinguished age, their once blind eyes now full of awareness. The women I saw upon entering the house looked hundreds of years old. These regal ladies appear a very vivacious sixty.

By contrast, the once golden flower now lies at their feet, a dark, shriveled husk.

The sisters offer their hands to me.

“Rise, heir of Kintaro.”

I grip my hand in theirs and climb to my feet.

“You have done well,” Mosura says.

“The Toho’s link to Ryuu has been restored in full,” Momoko says.

“You have the Toho clan’s eternal gratitude.”

“And our own.”

The two ladies smile, and it’s not difficult to imagine them as giggling twin girls running barefoot through the Toho village, playing games and spying on the boys who once owned their hearts.

They are beautiful. They are majestic.

I turn and they place their hands on my shoulders, allowing me to lead them out of the house. The Toho greet us with cheers and dancing.

“Momotaro!” they shout. “Momotaro!”

I smile from ear to ear, truly happy for the first time since crash-landing on
Dragon
Island
.

But if I’d known of the horror that was to come, I would’ve run past the Toho out into the jungle to take my chances with the
kaiju
!

If the ever formidable Sherlock Holmes managed to survive the plunge over Reichenbach Falls, would it not also be logical to assume his equally resourceful arch-nemesis likewise cheated death?...

—Excerpt from
Moriarty Unbound
, by Henry Reynolds (2011)

W
ow! What a whirlwind the last few days have been.

I left the Toho clan an outcast, but returned a hero! I’ve been treated like royalty since the moment I restored their twin priestess, the shobijin.

Well, at least the Toho version of royalty.

There are no crowns, castles, or palaces here in the village. But the Toho shower me with what they do have.

Everywhere I go, I’m greeted with reverent bows and kind words.

The village elder Tanuki has allowed me to stay in his house, removing himself and Kitsune to one of the smaller huts along the village’s perimeter, much to his daughter’s chagrin.

But this has not stopped Kitsune from coming over to visit me constantly, day and night. That girl will do as she pleases!

But there’s been a sadness about her since we returned from Yamanba’s castle.

I cannot figure out what’s going on with her. She talks and laughs, and takes my arm in hers when we stroll through the village. To anyone who didn’t know better, she would seem the same old Kitsune.

But, from time to time, I’ll catch her staring morosely off at the horizon. Or I’ll come upon her hurriedly wiping away tears from her face.

And for whatever reason, I get the feeling that now, when she does appear happy, it’s all for show.

But I haven’t a clue of how to broach the subject with her. Sure, I’ll whine to you about my problems all day long. But listening in return has never been one of my strong suits.

For Tanuki’s part, like a lot of parents whose kids are going through hard times, he’s oblivious and grins ear-to-ear when he sees Kitsune and me together.

“I have not seen Kitsune this happy since before her sister passed,” he says. “You are good for her, Momotaro-sai.”

Ishiro smiles when he greets us, too. But I’m not certain how long that will last. Right now, he, Kitsune, and I are still on a honeymoon-stage-high after saving the Toho village. But, like I said, I can sense something bad slowly taking root inside Kitsune, slowly pulling her away from me, Ishiro, and everyone else. There’s something going on here that she isn’t telling us.