Dragon Island (26 page)

But I know that I won’t.

She’s in another cave somewhere else along the mountainside, huddled among different crowd of slumbering clansmen.

It would’ve been stupid and reckless to have gone out into the night to look for her. And with the protection of Gryphina now gone, she certainly would’ve known better than to come looking for me.

But now there’s no time for searching.

“I would’ve asked you to come with me, Kitsune,” I whisper.

No answer comes. But then, I wasn’t expecting any.

I shrug and walk toward the cave mouth, tip-toeing over snoozing Toho.

I reach the cave entrance and find Tanuki and Mujina standing guard.

For some indiscernible reason, looking at the Toho elders makes me want to cry.

Tanuki smiles and raises a hand in blessing.

“Go in peace, Momotaro-sai. May Ryuu guard your way.”

I linger a moment longer, then turn and exit the cave forever.

To heck with this place!

Once I’m at a respectable distance, I relieve myself and then use a twig and mint leaf from my bundle to clean and freshen my mouth.

When I’m done, I discard them and make my way through the trees down the mountainside. I reach the bottom and exit the forest. The Toho village lies in shambles upon the open plain before me. I see broken tools, splintered looms, and shattered children’s toys among the rubble of reed houses.

The quickest path to the river would be to walk a straight line through the wreckage.

I go around.

I reach the river. Ishiro is there. He offers no greeting. He merely turns and follows a path parallel to the water leading to the valley’s end.

A half hour later, the sun rising behind us, the cicadas just beginning to sing, we come upon a group of long, slender fishing boats docked at the riverbank just outside the valley. Ishiro tosses his sword, sheath and all, into the nearest one and pushes it into the water. He grunts as he gestures for me to climb aboard.

I do and he shoves the boat farther away from shore before climbing in behind me and taking up one of the paddles lying inside. I take up the remaining paddle and hesitate, expecting him to stop me.

When he doesn’t, I dip the paddle into the river and push against the water. I alternate my strokes so that my paddle is always on the opposite side of the boat from Ishiro’s.

“Won’t the river kaiju try to get us?” I ask. “One came after me before.”

Ishiro frowns.

“The sun has risen.

“Ningai Ura is wounded, his apparent influence over the island’s creatures weak, currently.

“Stay in the boat, out of the river kaiju’s domain, and you will be fine.”

We paddle down the twisting river, our strokes moving in time with the rise and fall of the cicadas’ song. The avian kaiju perched among the thick fauna lining the shore on either side of us welcome the sun with boisterous squawks and chirps. Tropical flowers colored every hue of the rainbow open at our approach, releasing fragrant aromas into the air.

It’s the first time that I truly realize what a beautiful place this island is. I’ve had hints about the majesty of
Kaiju
Island
before, but was always too busy running from this monster or that to see what was really around me.

Or maybe I was just too caught up in feeling sorry for myself to truly take it in.

But here and now, paddling down river with Ishiro, the wonders I’ve witnessed during my time on the island dawn on me in full force. I’ve seen and experienced things beyond imagining!

Dragon
Island
is far from a paradise, but paradises are boring! This may be the last truly wild place on Earth. There are no computers or TVs. No X-Boxes or chat rooms. No oil rigs or shopping malls.

Yes, death exists here. In abundance! But life is all the sweeter for it.

I’m almost sad when the terrain around us changes from dense forest to a set of short, rocky cliffs, for I know it means we are approaching the island’s edge.

“Almost there,” Ishiro says.

The cliffs ahead part to reveal the midday sun hanging high above the ocean. A sailing vessel right out of nineteenth-century
Shanghai
sits anchored a mile off shore, bobbing on top of the waves.

“Momotaro-sai,” Ishiro says. “I’ve been thinking.”

“We are in trouble now,” I mumble.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

We draw in our paddles and let the current drag us along.

“I’ve something to confess.” Ishiro says.

Oh, brother! Here we go! I think, but say nothing.

Ishiro takes my silence as permission to continue.

“It was my fault that Kitsune’s sister died.”

I whirl to face Ishiro. “What?”

“It was on my first assignment as a full-fledged Toho warrior. I was to guard Kitsune and her sister, Ramu, as they traveled to and from the home of the shobijin while training. It was a task meant for an inexperienced warrior, and I was resentful at having been given it.”

Ishiro sighs.

“Eventually, I got careless and let the girls play games as we walked and talked. They took to teasing one another. When that grew old, they began teasing me.”

As Ishiro talks, things begin to fall into place in my mind. This is why he and Kitsune were always so short with one another. At last, I’m hearing all about it.

“One day,” Ishiro continues, “knowing I had to keep an eye on them at all times, Kitsune decided it would be fun for them to run ahead and make me chase after them.”

Ishiro chuckles.

“That was always the way with those two, Kitsune leading, Ramu following.

“Ramu was perfectly content spending hours making crowns of wild flowers or reading parchments. But Kitsune was restless. She went looking for trouble and always dragged Ramu right along with her.”

The smile fades from Ishiro’s face.

“I went running after the two of them, grinning ear-to-ear like a stupid aryx! But the unthinkable happened and the sisters ran over a sinkhole in the forest just as it gave way.”

“Oh my!” I say.

“I leaped in time to catch Kitsune’s wrist,” Ishiro resumes, “but Ramu was beyond my reach.

“She fell a long, long way. But somehow, she only suffered minor injuries.”

Ishiro swallows hard as he stares off at some long-repressed memory.

“I was tying vines together to go down after her when the dragon Zodon came.”

My jaw drops onto my chest. I’ve seen what happens when Zodon shows up. I know what Ishiro is about to say.

“He tunneled up through the earth beneath the hole where Ramu lay,” Ishiro chokes out. “Even among the shadows, we could see...could hear...”

Tears begin to leak from Ishiro’s eyes. I turn away and give him a moment to compose himself. When he speaks again, his voice is steady and even.

“There was nothing I could do.”

“But why—?” I ask.

“Am I telling you this here and now?”

I shrug. “Well, yeah.”

“Kitsune blamed me for her sister’s death almost as much as she blamed herself.

“And yet, she found it within her to forgive me while we were imprisoned in Yamanba’s castle. Before you came.

“Only then, after being forgiven by Kitsune, could I forgive myself and resume a normal life.
 

I turn to face front once more, suspicious of what Ishiro is about to say.

“Momotaro-sai, whether you meant to or not, you have done much for my people. For Kitsune.

“And for me.

“I suspect more of it is due to your courage than you give yourself credit for.

“So I’m glad you get the chance to go home to your own clansmen. It is only fair.

“I just wanted you to know that I hold no grudges against you, and that you should go home to your people with a guiltless heart.”

“Th-thank you, Ishiro,” I stutter.

At this moment, I’m extremely glad I’m facing away from Ishiro so that he can’t see the tears forming in my eyes.

We reach the end of the cliffs and enter open ocean.

I inhale a sharp breath of air when we paddle out far enough to see the shore behind us in its entirety. Of all the places we could’ve launched to sea, Ishiro has brought me to the site of my plane crash.

Starring at the wreckage strewn along the beach produces an empty feeling within me. I think of all people who died in the crash—good people who were mothers and fathers, daughters and sons.

But most of all, I think of the tall, black man who saved me. He could’ve run on ahead without stopping to find me a place to hide from Zodon.

But he did stop.

He unselfishly gave his life so that I could keep my own.

He died—they all died—and yet I live on.

Why?

Why!

Then I know.

God help me, I know! And I can’t turn away from it.

Not anymore.

“Your village was just the first of it, wasn’t it, Ishiro?”

My eyes remain locked on the plane wreckage.

“Ningai won’t stop, will he?

“In the form of Zodon, he’ll ravage the entire world. And everyone—people, governments, armies—they’ll all be powerless to stop him.”

I turn and face Ishiro.

He stares at me in silence for what feels like a long time, but in reality is only seconds. “Not everyone will be powerless, Momotaro-sai.”

Ishiro closes his eyes and gives me a slight bow.

“I believe in you, heir of Kintaro.”

I perceive a strange sensation in my jaw and then realize that it’s squaring itself.

When Ishiro rises, we exchange the same nods that must have been traded by Japanese Kamikaze pilots during World War Two.

The din of Zodon’s terrible roar causes us to nearly leap out of our robes!

Ishiro and I peer skyward in horror as the massive daikaiju flies overhead and on out to sea, blotting out the sun as he moves above the water like a dark thunderhead—one heralding the largest of storms. Ishiro and I cling to the boat, holding on for dear life until the resultant wind and waves become still once again.

“Ningai Ura has already healed himself and taken the form of Zodon,” Ishiro shouts in dismay. “We are too late!”

“Oh no we’re not!”

What are you doing? the coward inside me asks.

But I’m done listening to him.

I wrap my hand around the teardrop-shaped stone hanging at the center of the tengu’s necklace and concentrate with every ounce of mental capacity at my disposal.

I tell you with certainty, one of you is going to betray me.

—The Gospel of Matthew, 21:26, International Standard Version

W
hat the heck are you doing?

It’s not the coward speaking in my head now, only my sanity. And the truth of the matter is, I don’t have an answer.

It was all well and good to use my magic necklace and call the Tengu birdmen to fly Ishiro and me to the
shobijin’s
volcano home during a moment of unprecedented bravery. But now, soaring through the blue, sunny sky above
Dragon
Island
with only Ishiro’s weapons for protection, my usual state of fear and uncertainty begins to seep back into me.

Luckily, Ryuu’s Mouth appears below us before I’ve significant time to dwell on my feelings.

The cone of the cooling volcano is now a blackened, smoking crater. The
shobijin’s
home and all its surrounding greenery must have been incinerated by Gryphina’s emergence.

I guess it’s an understatement to say calling a guardian daikaiju takes sacrifice.

That thought chills me to the bone, for if what I’m planning works, the sacrificing isn’t over yet.

Far from it!

We pass over the volcano’s outer rim and touch down on the charred, level earth encircling its throat.

Ishiro and I hit the ground running. We head directly for the smoking hole at the volcano mouth’s center.

“Thank you!” I call back over my shoulder.

“Your gift has been given,” my flyer calls back. “Our debt to you has been paid.”

Without another word, the Tengu launch into the air and fly away, leaving Ishiro and I alone.

Or so I think.

Twenty yards out from our destination, five Xenomian robots bearing samurai swords burst from the ground to surround us.

The steel of Ishiro’s sword rings loud and sharp as he unsheathes it.

“Keep going!” he shouts.

The robot closest to him lunges and Ishiro relieves it of both its head and sword arm with a single swipe of his blade.