Spirit's Princess (13 page)

She didn’t take me to the fields, but just beyond the village palisade. Once out the gateway, she marched me a short
distance before making us both squat down in the grass along the wooden wall. Her first words to me were: “Do you have a cricket up your nose?”

“What?”

“You looked like something crawled up there and you were going to try blowing it out. Why were you making that weird face at Sora?”

“Ohhhhhhhh.” I nodded. Now I understood. “I just couldn’t believe him when he said he saw me running. I can’t run, Kaya.”

“Why not? Is it forbidden because you’re pine tree people? I guess that makes sense. We’re the deer clan, so we only eat deer meat at special festivals, and pine trees can’t run, so—”

I covered my mouth to hold down my laughter. When I could talk again, I said, “I fell out of a tree and hurt my leg, Kaya. That’s why I can’t run.”

“But you
did
run,” she argued. “Sora said he saw you, and he doesn’t lie.” She stood. “Come on, get up and let’s see about this.”

I’d known Kaya for less than a day, yet I already knew that there were times when you had no other choice but to do what she told you. I stood slowly. “I think he was just saying that he saw me run, because I really—
Whoa!
”

Like a hawk dropping onto a rabbit, Kaya grabbed my right arm with both hands and took off, racing over the grass. My only two paths were to run or to fall, and no one was more astonished than I when, instead of sprawling full-length, I ran.

I ran, I ran, I
ran
! She hadn’t given me the time to think
about it, to prepare for it, to ease into the idea of doing it, only to
do
it. And I did! I could! I wanted to shout out with the feeling of pure joy enfolding me. I wasn’t graceful or adept—I lurched and stumbled often—but with my own weird gait, I managed to keep up with Kaya. The rush of cool air and the rich, sweet scent of the waking earth bathed my face. I rejoiced as every swift step I took brought me farther and farther along the path to reclaiming what my fall had taken from me. For the first time in many seasons, I felt free.

When she stopped, I wanted to keep going, but she was still holding my arm and brought me to a halt. Panting, she said, “See? You can run. I told you Sora doesn’t lie.”

“But I’m so clumsy!”

“Who cares? Running’s about being fast. I’m a good runner and you didn’t hold me back, clumsy or not.”

“What if I’d fallen?”

She shrugged. “I’d’ve caught you. Or not. But you’re not made of eggshells, are you? You’d get up again and then we’d go back and you’d tell Mother what I did to you and I’d get punished for it.” She grinned.

“Oh, Kaya, I’d never do anything to get you in trouble with your mother!” I cried. “You just gave me the best gift I ever got. I can’t thank you enough.” I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her so hard that we lost our balance and toppled over. I sat up and looked at the grass and dirt staining my borrowed tunic. “
Now
who’s going to get in trouble with your mother?” I said, giggling.

“You’ll get in trouble with my big sister, Hoshi, first,” Kaya told me. “It’s
her
tunic, and if I’ve got the manners of a badger, she’s got the temper of one.”

I made a solemn face and said,
“Whoof-whoof-whoof!”
the same way Kaya had done when imitating the grouchy beast. We threw our arms around one another and burst into alternating
whoof-whoof-whoof
s and laughter until there were tears in ours eyes.

I think that was the moment we both knew that we were going to be friends.

Five days passed. Kaya and I spent them happily together, our closeness growing steadily until it felt as though we’d known each other from the time we were babies. I shared her chores in the house and in the clan’s fields, getting dirty and achy and tired and more contented than I could ever remember being. Though I missed my family every day—especially Mama and Aki—I found comfort in the warmth shown me by the deer people. The adults, who’d begun by calling me Lady Himiko, soon forgot about that and treated me like just another one of the village children. What a relief
that
was.

Lady Ikumi’s welcoming heart wasted little time in making me feel at home under her roof instead of like a visitor. When I asked her when I’d meet Kaya’s father, she told me that he’d died of a fever three summers ago. It felt strange to live in a house without a grown man making the rules, but I got the feeling Kaya’s father hadn’t commanded his family like mine.

I took real pleasure in getting to know the chieftess’s four other children—two brother-sister pairs, one older and one younger than my friend.

“I’m right in the middle.” Kaya sounded quite satisfied about it.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“Oh yes! I’m too big for Mother to fuss over, and I’m too little for her to scold for not acting more responsible.”

Much to my new friend’s annoyance, I soon had a second favorite person in her household: her sister Hoshi. She was even prettier than Kaya had described her; however …

“Why did you say she’s got a badger’s bad temper?” I whispered to Kaya one night after the family had gone to sleep. “When I was helping her cook today, I made the same mistakes over and over. She kept having to fix my messes,
and
teach me the right way to do things,
and
do her own work on top of that, but she didn’t get angry about it. Not once! She was sweet and patient and nice to me.”

“Fine, so she’s not a badger,” Kaya grumbled. “Why don’t you spend all day tomorrow with her if she’s so sweet and patient and—?”

“—not my friend,” I said.

“Why, because she’s too old?” Kaya sounded a little mollified, though not wholly convinced.

“Because she’s too … predictable. She’s nice, but she’s not surprising.”

“Huh! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if I told her ‘I can’t run; it’s impossible,’ she’d say, ‘Oh, that’s too bad,’ and go back to washing rice. She wouldn’t bolt off like a startled rabbit, just to prove me wrong.” I turned onto my side, in Kaya’s direction. “She’s nice, but she’s not you.”

Kaya said nothing. I wondered if my words had insulted her somehow. I’d had no luck keeping friends back home, but to be truthful, Kaya was the first friend I’d ever cared
about keeping.
Maybe she fell asleep
, I thought nervously. I edged closer, straining my ears to catch the slow, regular breath of a sleeper, when suddenly her whisper cut through the silence:

“I hope he never comes back.”

“What—?”

“I said, I hope he never comes back,” she repeated. “I mean, I
do
hope he comes back, but only if he’s given up.” After a pause, she added, “I’m talking about Sora. He left the village three days ago to try finding your people, and I hope he never does.
Never!
”

“Why? Are you worried about him? I heard your mother say what a good hunter he is. He knows how to take care of himself in the mountains, and I’ll bet he can find his way to my village by backtracking my trail.”

“Yes, but if he does find your village, he’ll be a stranger. What do your people do when a stranger shows up out of nowhere?”

“What did
your
people do when
I
first came here?” I countered.

“You weren’t carrying weapons.”

“No, I was a demon, remember?” We both giggled. Then I added, “My people aren’t demons, either. I’ll bet that when Sora finds them, they’ll ask him why he’s come, and once he tells them he’s got news about me, he won’t be a stranger anymore. You don’t have to be afraid that anything bad will happen to him.”

“I’m not,” Kaya said. “But I don’t want him to succeed anyhow. Then you can stay here and we can always be friends.”

I found her hand in the darkness and squeezed it. “When Sora finds my village, that won’t change anything, Kaya. We’ll still be friends. We won’t see each other every day, but I can come back here sometimes and you can come visit me.”

“How? Your clan’s so far from here that we never heard of them!”

I thought about that. “Maybe we’re not
that
far away. Maybe it’s just that our people’s paths haven’t crossed until now. Do
you
know what’s on the other side of every mountain you can see from here?”

“I guess not.” My friend sounded reluctant to accept my reasoning, but I think her heart wanted to believe it even if her mind couldn’t.

“Of
course
not.” I was sure enough for both of us. “You know what? I’ll bet that the spirits are behind all of this. They came to me when I was lost and guided me here so that our two clans could become friends like us. Once I’m back with my family again, our people can start trading with one another, and you and I can tag along on those journeys!”

I heard Kaya snort. “How many kids have you seen traveling with a trading party?”

My lips turned down. I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to admit it and spoil my beautiful dream of the future. “Well, we’re not going to be children forever, and when we’re bigger,
we
can become traders! Then no one can stop us from going where we like.”

“I don’t want to wait that long, Himiko,” Kaya said. “I
think I’ll just go back to hoping that Sora fails. And we should
both
get up early tomorrow morning and make an offering to the spirits so they cause your trail to vanish. That would fix everything!”

Before I could reply, Lady Ikumi’s irritated voice rang out: “If you two stop chattering and go to sleep before tomorrow comes, I’ll give the spirits a thanksgiving offering so huge it’ll be
next winter
before they want another!”

We muttered apologies to Kaya’s mother and didn’t say another word.

The next morning, Lady Ikumi sent Kaya and me to fetch water. When we reached the stream that ran through the Shika clan’s valley, my friend set down her clay jar and clapped her hands three times, then reached into her sleeve and dropped something into the current.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“My gift to the gods so they’ll let you stay,” she told me, and clapped her hand three times again, the way my clan also did when we wanted to make sure the spirits would take notice. “It’s a piece of the dried fish Mother gave us with our breakfast rice.”

I started to say
You made an offering of
fish
to spirits that live in a
stream?
They’ve already got all the fish they want!

Then I thought,
What difference does it make
what
we offer the spirits? The gods, great and small, are so powerful, what can we possibly give them that they can’t take for themselves?

I remembered the first time I gave Mama flowers. I was very small, and it was the most bedraggled, broken-stemmed, crushed bunch of blossoms ever! She didn’t need it, and
she could have gathered prettier, fresher blooms for herself, yet she welcomed my silly little present as though it were the finest thing she’d received. I didn’t give it to her to make her change the way she treated me. It wasn’t a crude this-for-that trade. It was given for no other reason than love.

Giving things to the spirits wasn’t about the offering itself, but what lay in the heart behind the gift. I put my arm around my friend’s waist. “I know how much you like fish, Kaya. Thank you for giving that up, just for me.”

“Thank Hoshi,” Kaya replied with a look of pure mischief. “I took the fish out of her bowl when she wasn’t looking.” Suddenly, like a cloud blowing across the sun, a worried expression shadowed her face. “I just hope the gods don’t mind that I didn’t give them
my
fish along with
my
prayers.”

“Why don’t we come back here later on with some rice for them?” I suggested. “That should make it all right.”

“Do you really think so, Himiko?” Kaya asked anxiously.

“Absolutely!” I spoke with confidence, wanting her to feel at ease again. “Now let’s get the water and go home.”

The next morning marked the fifth day of my time with the deer people. I’d gone to bed the night before feeling a little sorrowful. The Shika clan had opened their arms to me and made me feel accepted, but I
did
miss my family. In the hazy time between drowsing and true sleep, I recalled their faces, the sound of their voices, the special smells of our house, the matchless way food tasted when Mama and
my stepmothers cooked it, and countless other precious details. My dreams were filled with memories.

That night, I dreamed that I was home again. I sat on the floor of our house with everyone around me and told them the tale of my wanderings with the deer people. Somehow I hadn’t lost the cherry branch I’d picked on the mountainside, and it was once again thick with pink blossoms. When I proudly presented it to Aki, a wondrous, fearsome thing happened: the flowers multiplied and spread, flowing along the branch, swarming up his arms, pouring over his body until he was completely swathed in them. A mask of fragrant petals fell across his joyful face. The last trace of him to vanish was his lips, which smiled, and parted, and in his beloved voice whispered one word—
Himiko!
—with a breath that scattered the blossoms in a whirlwind, leaving not a single sign of him behind.

I woke up haunted, calling his name, but my eyes were dry, and when Lady Ikumi worriedly asked if I’d had an evil dream, I honestly told her no.

The morning passed with nothing unusual to mark it, and the afternoon too seemed likely to slip past in the same way. All of the Shika except the very old, the very young, and those who had to care for them were cleaning the irrigation channels that brought water to the rice paddies. Kaya and I were knee-deep in cold mud when a sudden shout came from the rising slope behind the village. Everyone looked up at once, in just the way a herd of deer will do when an unfamiliar noise takes them by surprise. We all left our work and went running to see what had happened.

We looked up the hill to see Sora loping down and in his wake, moving more cautiously, two men. I sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a cry that came from the depths of my heart: