Spirit's Princess (31 page)

We reached Kaya’s village under an unwelcome cloud of cold rain. No one was outside except the watchman, huddled like a wet owl in his tower. We heard him announce
our arrival in a phlegmy voice broken by hard coughing. Immediately, I began concocting one of Yama’s remedies in my mind, wondering if he’d allow me to treat him. I’d reached that stage in my studies with Yama where I knew all the shaman’s cures. I could do everything from identifying the right plant for each ailment to turning it into the potion or powder or poultice the individual case required.

What I
couldn’t
do was practice healing. Yama admitted that I was more than ready for that responsibility, but still refused to let me try. “If you begin taking care of the sick, there will be no more pretending you only do my errands. The whole clan will know I’ve taken you as my apprentice, and that includes your father. I wouldn’t mind seeing the end of that deception, but that must not happen until you feel you’re in command of
all
my arts. I want you to be my successor, Himiko, fully trained. That can’t come about if your father puts an end to your studies before they’re done.”

She was right, but accepting that didn’t do a thing to relieve my frustration at being unable to
use
the lessons I’d already learned. Of course, now that I was far from our village and Father’s hostile eye, there was nothing to prevent me from letting my healing knowledge do some good for others.

The weather was nasty, but Aki and I received a greeting warm enough to burn off the chilly drizzle. By the time we crossed the moat and entered the gates, Lady Ikumi and Kaya were waiting to embrace us. Hoshi was nowhere to be seen.

The Shika chieftess noted my brother’s look of dejection and disappointment right away. “Don’t worry, my son,
she’s well. In fact, she might be
better
than well. I told her to stay inside. If she is”—she paused and smiled—“as I
hope
she is, she shouldn’t risk falling sick.”

Aki’s face brightened at once. “Do you really think that she could be—?”

Lady Ikumi spread her hands. “As I said, I’m hoping it’s true.”

Kaya snorted. “And
I’m
hoping you’ll stop talking in riddles, Mother, and let all of us get out of the rain!”

It wasn’t far from the gates to the chieftess’s house, and Kaya made the distance shorter by pulling me along as she dashed for home. I still couldn’t run gracefully, but speed was no problem. The two of us erupted through the doorway well before Lady Ikumi and Aki did.

Hoshi was busy setting out cups around an open clay bottle. The pleasant aroma of heated rice wine warmed me almost as much as the merrily burning fire in the center of the house. Aki’s bride welcomed me cordially.

“I hope you didn’t have to endure this rain all the way here,” she said, placing a filled cup in my hands. “I’m so happy to see you again, Lady Himiko. It’s been too long since you visited us.”

“Much
too long,” Kaya said as she filled her own cup. “Why couldn’t you come back sooner? Aki told us about your new brothers, and how you had to help take care of them, but wasn’t there
anyone
else who could do that?”

“I like looking after babies,” I said mildly. “Especially my brother Noboru. He’s a darling. You’d like him a lot, Kaya.”

For the second time since my return, Kaya snorted. “I
had enough of babies when those two were small,” she said, indicating her younger brother and sister. The girl giggled, and the boy stuck out his tongue at her.

“Don’t you want to have children of your own one day?”

“I guess so. But my husband had better marry a couple of extra wives. One of them can take care of the mess and the crying and the teething when the kids are babies, and I’ll take over when they’re big enough to be
fun
.”

Aki ducked his dripping head as he came into the chieftess’s house. “What’s this I hear about fun, Kaya? What are you plotting n—” He didn’t get the chance to finish before Hoshi ran into his arms.

Kaya snorted a third time for good measure and made an exaggerated kiss-kiss face at me, rolling her eyes, fluttering her lashes, and hugging herself until I laughed the breath out of my body.

“Ah, it’s good to see our guests so happy!” Lady Ikumi said as she came in. Kaya’s younger sister hastened to help her mother dry off while my friend’s older brother handed the chieftess a cup of wine.

“Hey! Hoshi’s supposed to be doing that!” Kaya pointed an accusing finger at her older brother. She glanced at Aki and Hoshi, still sealed in their embrace, and sighed. “It’s like this every time he comes here. He might as well stay.”

“Or else Hoshi should go live with the Matsu,” Lady Ikumi remarked. Everyone stared, even the two lovers. The Shika chieftess lowered her eyelids and calmly sipped her wine.

“Mother, what are you saying? Have you gone crazy?” Kaya was frantic.

Her mother remained unruffled. “Well, the bride usually does go to live in her husband’s house.” She looked up into the startled faces of her children. “Yes, my darlings, your sister is married to this young man. I thought that it was time to share the news with you. After all, Himiko knows already.”

Kaya gave me a look that was stormy enough to shoot lightning. “You
knew
? You knew before me? She’s my
sister
!”

Her mother put her arms around my infuriated friend and crooned, “Hush, my dearest Lady Badger. You can’t blame her for that. As Aki and I were walking here from the gate, he told me he’d shared the secret with her, but he didn’t do it until after her last visit here. How could she have shared it with you?”

This explanation mollified Kaya a little, but the hint of a frown lingered on her lips. “This is just another reason why you shouldn’t have stayed away from us so long, Himiko. That’s your brother’s fault.”

“Kaya, you’re not being fair,” Aki protested. “I brought Himiko with me as soon as—”

“Not
you
.” Kaya waved away his objections impatiently. “The
baby
brother, the one she’s sure I’m going to like. Well, I don’t! And I won’t! Not now and not ever.” She crossed her arms and looked haughty. “Lady Badger has spoken.”

“Whoof,”
I told her, and the two of us shook with silly laughter.

Hoshi came to kneel beside me. “I’m so glad to have you for my sister, Lady Himiko. I know how special you are to Aki.”

“If I’m your sister, you mustn’t call me
Lady
Himiko anymore,” I replied, and hugged her.

“Does this mean you’ll be leaving us, Hoshi?” Kaya asked. She looked upset.

“Not soon, Little Sister, don’t fret.”

“Who’s fretting?” Kaya fought to look indifferent and did a bad job of it. “It’s not as if I’m going to miss you; it’s just that I’m the one who’ll be stuck doing all of your chores once you go!”

“There can be no talk of Hoshi leaving us until we know she’ll be accepted among the Matsu,” Lady Ikumi announced. “And that can’t happen until Aki’s father accepts
all
of us. Once he understands that not every outlander is an enemy, there will be a great bond of friendship between the Matsu and the Shika. After all, I’m not about to send my daughter away if I’m not welcome to visit her whenever I like.” She set her wine cup down.

Not every outlander is an enemy
, I thought.
But not every outlander is a friend, either
. Memories of Ryu and the Ookami clan’s offer of so-called friendship left me with a cold feeling inside.

“If you can visit Hoshi, that means I can visit Himiko!” Kaya cried. She clasped my hands. “Won’t that be wonderful? I can’t wait to see your village!”

Aki chuckled. “You might
have
to wait, Kaya. We don’t know how soon Father will see reason.”

Lady Ikumi rose from her place. “Oh, it might be soon enough,” she drawled. “
Very
soon, perhaps.” She shared a confidential smile with her eldest daughter.

Unfortunately, before we left the Shika village, Aki and Hoshi had sad proof that they weren’t going to be parents just yet. Their hopes for a child who would soften Father’s heart would have to wait, and Lady Ikumi’s “
Very
soon, perhaps” became my brother’s wistful “Maybe not now, but in time.”

That winter lingered. The cold crept through our clothes and curled up in our bones, but the Matsu had plenty of food stored away after another abundant harvest. No one wanted to go outside, and there was no end to the grumbling when any of my clan had to leave the comfort and warmth of their houses. Whenever Father heard their complaints, it left him seething.

“This is what happens when times are
too
good!” he thundered as we all sat down to eat. “People get soft as piles of pork fat. Then, when the world returns to normal, they’re too weak to cope with hardship. They crumble up and blow away!”

Little Sanjirou clapped his hands and squealed with delight. He always found Father’s outbursts funny. His innocent glee never failed to annoy Father, but what could he do about it? A child is a child. Father’s only option was to lapse into sullen silence.

I suppressed a grin and slipped Sanjirou an extra tidbit from my platter. I loved Father, but not his constant insistence that the gods’ blessings were doing us more harm than good. Sometimes it seemed as though he’d welcome a catastrophe because it would prove he’d been right.

Was it really wise to speak so? Would the spirits become
offended to hear their gifts insulted? Would they give us nothing more, or worse, would they take back what they had already given? The thought drew my gaze to my three youngest brothers. I looked at them and felt an anxious shudder run over my skin. I scooped Noboru into my lap, despite his squirming, and held him tight. I wished that I could hold all of my family close to me in the same way, and protect them from whatever was to come.

On a clear spring morning when the cherry trees in the distance had not yet bloomed, our shaman was summoned to the house of one of the Matsu nobles to help ease a difficult birth. I was with her, carrying all the things she might need for whatever lay ahead. I watched attentively as Yama guided the new life into our clan and rejoiced with the child’s family when all chance of danger to mother and infant had passed.

The birth took a long time. The light was already beginning to fade from the sky when Yama sent me down the ladder of the noble’s house. My arms were full with all the gear I’d need to clean and put away. I trod carefully. The steps on the ladder had been worn smooth by years of use, and it was a far drop from the platform.

I was safely down and heading for the shaman’s house when I heard Yama calling out to me: “Himiko, you don’t need to—!”

I turned in time to see our shaman rush to the edge of the platform, slip, and plunge to the ground.

“Well, if this doesn’t prove that the gods have a sense of humor, I don’t know what does.” Yama sat on her bedroll and looked down at her broken leg. Her thin lips twisted into a wry smile as she turned her head to me. “I want to say that you did a better job of piecing my old bones back together than I did for your young ones, but I’m a vain creature. I can’t admit the truth when it shames me.”

“I only did what you told me to do,” I replied. “I couldn’t have done anything without your guidance.”

I knelt at the shaman’s bedside, my fists on my thighs. It seemed to me as though my hands had been balled up tightly ever since Yama’s accident, except when I was actively using them. Every fiber of my body felt perpetually taut and ready to snap at the slightest touch. Even my voice sounded strained, pitched higher than normal, while my head never stopped echoing with an unending stream of prayers.

“Is that so?” Yama cocked her head and regarded me with the bright, dark eyes of a curious crow. “Then who was it who guided you while I lay senseless on the ground? My wandering spirit?”

“I didn’t do anything
important
then,” I argued. “Anyone in our clan would have known enough to have you carried carefully, to clean your wounds, to—”

“Enough, enough. Soon you’ll be claiming that you don’t know how to
breathe
without my almighty guidance.” Yama shifted her weight and winced. “You know very well that you could have done everything necessary without a single word from me. The only reason I spoke up and began directing you through each and every step was because your father was hovering around. We can’t have him know you’re ready to take over my duties
quite
yet.”

I clenched my fists even tighter. “I don’t feel ready for that at all.”

“And why not?”

“The same reason: the dances that we must perform to—”

“What’s wrong with the way you dance?”

“That’s just it, Lady Yama: I
don’t
dance,” I said miserably. “I’ve been doing what you said, practicing the steps, the motions, but I still hobble through them. My dances look nothing like yours.”

“Maybe they will, after this.” Yama indicated her broken leg and uttered a short, harsh laugh. “My dear girl, when you invoke the spirits, is your voice exactly like mine? When you grind dried herbs for medicine, do you hold the bowl in precisely the same way that I do? My own teacher told
me that we dance for the entertainment of the gods, to please them, to attract their goodwill, even to make them laugh! If every shaman performed the sacred dances in identical fashion, I don’t think it would be very entertaining.”