Spirit's Princess (33 page)

I forced myself to look at Yama as just another one of
my clanfolk. If I let myself remember how special she was to me, I’d cry, and tears healed nothing. I went to the door of her house and called out to the first man I saw: “Our shaman needs cloth, soft cloth, as soft as you can find! Bring it! Hurry!” He stared at me, astonished, but only for a moment before the dire urgency in my voice sent him running.

Other people heard and came to see what was happening. Their fearful questions made the air buzz as if a swarm of bees had descended on our village. I wanted to grab each one of them by the arm and shake them while I shouted
Don’t just stand there! Do something useful!

Shouting won’t help Yama
, I thought. I took another deep breath and waded into the crowd. One by one, I picked out the faces of the people who would best be able to do what was necessary. One by one, I told each of them what to do, keeping my words and demeanor calm. I sent one woman to bring honey, our brawniest man to fill and fetch the biggest water jug in the village, someone else to get some rice wine, and one of our keenest-eyed hunters to gather a very special plant: “It’s called hare’s-ear. The leaves are curved, and it’s got yellow flowers. I saw some growing at the far edge of our bean field. You’ll have to dig up the whole thing; I need the root. Please hurry!”

Father arrived in the midst of this. His brow was clouded with worry that was fast turning into anger. “What’s going on here?” he demanded, confronting me. “Himiko, what do you think you’re doing?”

This wasn’t the time to assert myself, and certainly not to reveal how much of Yama’s lore I possessed. You don’t use the same force to slice a peach as to chop a tree branch.
I lowered my eyes and spoke softly as I told him what I’d found awaiting me that morning.

“Father, you saw how Lady Yama instructed me to set her broken leg. You know I’ve been her helper for years. Under her orders, I prepared the medicines she needed for our clan, and I was often with her when she used them. I know—I mean, I
think
I know what has to be done now. I’m not a shaman, but—”

“The gods forbid it,” Father snapped. “You’re a smart girl, Himiko. I’d be surprised and disappointed if you didn’t know how to care for our shaman. Do your best. Our whole clan will help.” He turned to the crowd and bellowed, “My daughter’s voice is mine! Do as she says!”

With Father’s support, I was able to command even more aid from our clanfolk. I no longer needed to shout my orders and hope no one would waste time questioning them. I had everyone’s instant obedience. I soon had one person grinding dried herbs to powder so that I could make fresh honey salve, another preparing hare’s-ear root as I directed, a third boiling water to make that root into the drink I prayed would lower Yama’s fever, several women turning cloth into strips that were the right size for new bandages, and so on. Even Father stood by, vigilant, making sure my words were heeded correctly.

All of this allowed me to duck back into Yama’s house and give my full attention to my teacher’s treatment. I soon had that hideous redness cleansed, salved, and delicately wrapped up, all without disturbing the setting of her broken bone. When the hare’s-ear draft was cool enough to drink,
I had Father prop her up in his arms as I tried to make her swallow a few mouthfuls without choking. Midway through the process, her eyelids fluttered again, then opened. She drank greedily. I wanted to jump up and cry out with joy, but instead, I kept the shallow bowl to her lips until it was empty.

“Lady … Lady Yama?” I asked tentatively as I set the bowl aside. “How do you feel?”

“Dizzy,” she replied. She sounded like someone speaking from the depths of sleep. She blinked and turned her head toward Father. “What do
you
want?”

He smiled dryly. “I’ve got it.”

Yama frowned and looked confused. “No riddles. I don’t like riddles. I don’t think I like you so much, either. I’m old and I’m tired, and I don’t have to like anyone. Go away.” But she lay back against Father’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Lady Yama?” I touched her bony wrist lightly with two fingers. “What should I do for you now?”

“Do?” she echoed. Her eyelids lowered and she sighed. “If you don’t know what to do by now, what’s the use?” She muttered something unintelligible, but when I tried to get her to repeat it, she stopped speaking entirely. Her breathing became more shallow and regular. Father and I exchanged a look that contained the same question:
Has she gone back to sleep?
I laid my palm to her brow. It was still hot, though not as hot as before.

“What should I do?”
Father mouthed silently at me. With an expressive shift of his eyes, he indicated the bedroll. I
nodded:
Yes, help her lie down again
. He moved carefully, letting the shaman’s body recline full length without disturbing her rest. Then the two of us stood up and went outside.

“She spoke to us,” I announced to the mass of people waiting for news. A few happy murmurs ran through the crowd, but most of the faces gazing at me were stiff with anxiety.
They feel helpless
, I thought.
It will be a comfort if I can give most of them something
, anything
to do for her. They’ll be able to feel like a part of the healing, and they won’t have as much time to let their worst imaginings grip their spirits
.

And so I told the people that we’d need teams of three to take turns keeping watch over our shaman—two who would stay at her bedside and one posted at the doorway, ready to run any errands that might arise. I left it to Father to choose the members of each group and organize the order in which they’d look after her.

The sun goddess was at the midpoint of the sky when I trailed home. It wasn’t even afternoon, but I was already exhausted. Mama was standing at the foot of our ladder, Noboru on her hip, when I arrived. She had the tense, strained air of someone who has been on watch for a long time. I told her everything that had happened. I was so worn out that my voice sounded like it was coming from someone else. Mama promptly shooed me up to our porch, ordered me to sit down, and put my baby brother in my lap. Noboru’s fresh, laughing face lifted the weight from my chest, and soon I was singing funny songs to the baby, my mind happily distracted from darker thoughts.

Father came home shortly after that. He sat beside Noboru and me, but didn’t look at us. His eyes were fixed
on the deep green of the sacred pine tree’s boughs, as though he were wordlessly communing with the guardian spirit of our clan. When he spoke at last, it was to say, “I hope they’ve found Lady Yama’s half brother. The gods grant he’s on the road back to us by now. We need him more than ever. You did well today, Himiko, and I’m proud of you, but you’re not a shaman.”

I pressed my lips together. With all my strength, I held back the urge to cry out,
No, but I will be! And I already know more of the shaman’s lore than you think, Father, but I have to keep it hidden from your stubborn eyes. Why don’t you want me to follow the path that was meant for me? When will I be able to be myself without worrying that you’ll fly into one of your rages?

Instead, I thanked him for his praise and was sinking back into silence when suddenly a spark of inspiration flashed through my mind. “Father, a real shaman could help heal Lady Yama better than I. You know that’s true. We have no idea when Master Michio will return, or even if your men will find him. Lady Yama needs healing now. Send a man to the Shika clan! You remember their chieftess, Lady Ikumi, don’t you? She’s a shaman too, and she’d be happy to—”

“No!”
Father’s voice boomed. Noboru startled and opened his mouth in a shriek of terror so loud that Mama came rushing out of the house in a panic.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she cried, taking the howling baby from my arms.

“Nothing,” Father said in a way that let us both know there would be no further discussion of the matter. He stamped down the ladder.

“Himiko?” Mama cast an inquiring look at me, but I let it slip past without responding. Cold anger had clapped its hands around me the way a little boy captures a firefly. I was afraid that if I said one word to her, I’d find myself screaming out my indignation against Father’s unending blindness to the possibility that once—just
once
—we could treat the members of a different clan as human beings, not enemies. My teacher’s need for another shaman’s healing wisdom was not as important to him as keeping the Matsu isolated from the rest of the world.

Mama waited for a reply, got none, shrugged, and left me alone.

I checked on Yama’s condition regularly that day and the next. She spent a peaceful night, and when I came by the following morning, I was told that she’d asked for breakfast. Who would have thought that my world would seem brighter just because a white-haired woman ate a bowl of rice gruel? She continued to sleep more than she woke, but I wasn’t too worried about that. When my visits coincided with her wakeful times, I asked her if I should reexamine her leg under the bandages. She sounded almost chipper when she dismissed the idea.

“Let it be, child, let it be. You’ll fidget the bone into fragments if you’re forever unwrapping and rewrapping it. Not even the gods can hasten this sort of healing.”

I touched her forehead and made a doubtful face. “You feel warmer. I think I should check to see if the swelling’s any better, and if the redness—”

“Pff! I’m sure everything’s fine. I’m warmer because it’s warmer outside and this house is stuffy. Bring me another
dose of hare’s-ear tonic if you’re nervous.” She yawned widely. “But be quick about it. I’d like to take a nap.” I turned to have one of her attendants bring me the jug of fever remedy, but by the time the woman found it and I’d poured out a dose, Yama was snoring. I left her to rest, and when I returned later that evening for one last check before my bedtime, I was told that she’d eaten and drunk heartily and was asleep once more. My fingertips on her forehead felt warm, but not too much. I went home for the night with my mind at ease.

“Himiko! Himiko, get up, she wants you!” My eyes snapped open to see Mama’s anguished face by firelight. She was kneeling at my side, Noboru clinging to her chest, and when I sat up, I saw Yukari and Emi standing nearby, holding their sons. The children were sobbing with fear, and my stepmothers’ faces were awash with tears.

I didn’t ask what had happened; I didn’t have to. My belly smoldered with the bitter certainty. Yama’s pale face hung before my eyes like a film of moonlight on water. I uttered an inhuman cry of grief, thrust myself out of my bedroll, yanked my tunic over my head, and bolted for the door.

“Wait! Wait! You need a light!” Mama called after me. I only half heard her and paid no attention until a strong hand closed on my arm before I cleared our doorway.

“Let me go!” I shouted, trying to pull away. “She needs me! I have to go to her before it’s too late! I’ve got to save her! Let me
go
!”

“Mother said
wait
.” My brother Masa’s hard expression made him look like a younger version of Father. “Wait for
me to go ahead of you with a light or you’ll miss the ladder. How will you help her then?”

“Fine.”
I spat the word in his face. “Stop talking and
do
it. Hurry!”

Masa swallowed my harsh words without complaint. He was no fool; he sensed the dire forces that were rushing to engulf our village. Soon I was racing by his side as he lit the way to Yama’s house.

Father was there before us. He knelt beside the shaman’s still-breathing body, his sword across his lap. Did he believe he had the power to fight off death? It was a mad thought, yet anyone there to see that unyielding glint in his eyes would have to ask,
Is anything impossible if a man with this much courage and determination decides it
can
be done?

I dropped to my knees beside him. Masa remained in the doorway, his mouth a taut line. Searing heat flared over my palm when I put it on Yama’s brow. There was a bowl of water near her head and a wet cloth draped over the rim. I dipped the rag, wrung it out, and wiped her face tenderly before speaking: “When did this happen? When did she get so bad?”

“Not long ago,” Father answered. Tension radiated from his body like ripples from a stone thrown into a pond. “The women tending her thought she was sleeping normally until she let out a terrible groan and her teeth started chattering. When they touched her, they felt the fire and had the guard come for me. I got here just as she began to thrash around.”

“She did what?” I was aghast. “But her leg—!”

Father’s grip on his sword tightened. “Every move she
made brought her fresh suffering, but she wouldn’t stop. I don’t think she
could
. The fire in her body burned away all wisdom. We held her down as well as we could without causing her further pain, but she fought us, arching her back, trying to kick free, and always wailing from the agony she was suffering.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Why didn’t you send for me? I could have done something to calm her, to ease the pain, to—!”

“Do you think I didn’t want to do that at once?” Father jerked his head toward me, and I saw my own tears mirrored on his face. “But who could I send? All four of us had to restrain her until the fit passed. I prayed that someone would hear her cries and come to help, but no one did. She finally lay still, and I was about to tell the man on guard to bring you here when she stirred and opened her eyes. Oh, Himiko, her eyes! They held the white-hot glow of iron in the forge, and when she spoke your name, her voice was the creaking groan of great trees about to topple in a storm. The guard saw, heard, and ran without waiting for any word from me. He hasn’t come back.”

I looked around the empty house. “And the two women?”

“They saw and heard as well, but they were too scared to move. I had to yell at them to make them leave. What good would it do to keep them here, poor things?” He nodded at Yama. “She looks as if she sleeps, but I can see a thread of white under her eyelashes. She’s awake. She’s listening. Speak to her, Himiko.”