All of my newsletter subscribers, I hope you'll enjoy this free prequel story. It takes place just before the opening of Eye of the Ninja.
In His Mind's Eye
Inaba
It was pacing, of a sort.
Inaba gazed out at the dark expanse of space. Staring out, letting his mind drift and his plots sift, he allowed his form to do what came naturally, now. From the feet, his lower body dissolved into a misty wisp.
Slowly, he began to move. Curving over this moon, twisting to spiral along that galaxy, he moved in a sinuous echo of his coiling thoughts.
It was coming. His triumph. Soon. He could feel the acceleration, the tightening of anticipation as they neared the end—as hundreds of years of planning bore fruit and a hundred threads began to twine together.
Unfortunately, his impatience grew apace, and his temper grew shorter. It was the hunger. The ache. The empty places inside of him yawned wider, pricked anew by each delay, with every misstep, even by the small cues, the everyday reminders of old injustices.
Like this view. This was the place he came to think, to let the emptiness and majesty inspire him—except that the splendor wasn’t real, was it? Every other denizen of the spirit world could pop out and visit the true, vast edges of the universe, should they wish. But he was forced to make do with this . . . copy. Because he was trapped here.
The indignity of it infuriated him anew. He was Inaba. The greatest, strongest denizen that had ever existed on the spirit plane.
And his day was coming.
* * *
Nobu slunk along, his two tails twitching. He wasn’t the sort to appreciate a summons, not even when it came from the great Inaba himself.
Perhaps, especially not when it came from the dark spirit.
He’d heard the whispers, the carefully mentioned conjectures that Inaba was behind the great Rift—the perpetrator of the great conglomeration of spiritual and worldly energy that tore a whole in the planet and nearly destroyed the islands of Japan. That ripped apart other coastal cities on the Pacific Rim and caused the destruction of millions of humans and yokai alike.
Nobu harbored doubts, however. Surely not even a colossal ego like Inaba could initiate mayhem on such a scale—all in the name of his private war. Surely, had the Rift been his handiwork, he wouldn’t now dare be actively recruiting yokai to join his fight.
He wondered if that was why he was here, today. He hoped not. Nobu had no desire to rally to such a cause—and not only because his clan of Nekomata—mountain cat yokai with two tails and a range of intimidating powers—lived isolated, quiet lives.
There was that niggling truth, though—the one he hoped fervently that Inaba did not know. He’d been but a cub at the time of the Rift, but he knew who had helped him and others of his clan escape the poisoned destruction of the Japanese mountains and settle in a new home—and it hadn’t been Inaba. In fact, it had been Rialka, the dark spirit’s greatest enemy.
But he hadn’t involved himself in their escalating battle. He and his family had been too busy carving out their new territory, finding new ways to survive. It wasn’t smart to antagonize a spirit so powerful, though, so he’d answered the call—and here he was, stalking the halls in Inaba’s domain—until he drew up, finding that he could go no further.
He paused, absorbing the significance. It took a great deal of power to claim and mold a portion of the spirit world—he could scarcely imagine the energy it must require to make even a small section of it so utterly private that no others could enter.
He sat down to wait, deliberately keeping his tails from lashing his frustration. After a moment, a bright spot appeared in the barrier before him. It grew and spiraled outward until Nobu could see the expanse of stars and space ahead—and spot Inaba flitting toward him.
As the dark spirit drifted out, the door reversed itself and shut behind him.
“Thank you for coming, Nekomata.” Inaba inclined his head. His robes echoed the expanse he’d just left—all dark, sumptuous folds and shining, rich trim that looked alive with light and sparkle. “Is this your first time at my court?”
“It is.”
Inaba’s lower half coalesced from tapering mist to standard human limbs. With not a further word he began to walk down the curving corridor.
After a moment, Nobu sighed and followed—but this time he let his lashing tails communicate his agitation. Coming around the curve, he glimpsed something ahead of Inaba in the corridor. Just a flash of something tawny that quickly disappeared around the curve ahead.
He forgot it when Inaba spoke again.
“I thank you for coming. I have heard interesting things about you, Nekomata. You spend your time on the earthly plane, I understand.”
“I do.” He loved his clan’s home in the mountains, liked nothing more than lying in a patch of warm sun, watching their rough and tumble play, and letting his twitching ears search out small sounds of prey in the brush.
“Your kind is known for their strength, for their ruthlessness. And you rose quickly to become leader of your clan.”
Caretaker would perhaps be a better word, but Nobu did not correct the dark spirit.
“Perhaps you are wondering why I asked you here?”
He nodded. Glanced around at the empty, dimly lit passage, at the paved stone floors and the textured walls. “Yes. This is not my natural milieu.”
“But it could be.”
Nobu suppressed a shiver of distaste. “I prefer the forest and the mountains of home.”
“Home. Yes.” Inaba paused—and continued to hold his silence while he led him into an antechamber with gorgeously painted panels for walls. Nobu wondered if this was meant to tell him that he did know just how his clan came by their new home.
“Did you know that this place—my palace in the spirit realm—is exactly replicated in my compound in JanFran?”
“No.”
“But of course, I cannot visit it there. There are many earthly places I could call home, were it possible.” He gestured toward one of the panels and the painting faded, quickly replaced with a view of an ancient temple. “This monastery, perhaps, where I am still worshipped as a kami god.” The scene shifted to a brightly lit office space filled with screens and desks—and a multitude of drawings of Inaba on the walls. “Or here, where skilled humans work to create for me.” A village scene showed now and narrowed upon a covered space that looked like a cross between a factory and a still room, where young and old labored over small cauldrons and large . . . mirrors? “Or here, where my most faithful servants give their all for me.”
Another wave and the images blinked out. “I cannot visit any of them—or anywhere on the earthly plane, as you know.”
“What is it that you wish from me?” Nobu asked.
“Direct. In possession of skills and ambition.” Inaba raised his head and looked down his nose at him. “I am always interested in such yokai.” He turned away. “You are familiar with my . . . struggles . . . with certain other entities—and her rogue spirits and mortal allies.”
Nobu sat. “I am Neckomata. I care little for humans and their wars—be they spirit or mortal.”
“Of course. Your distaste for humans is known. But so are the small numbers of your clan. The struggles you face, living isolated and so deep in the mountains.” He spun around and met Nobu’s eyes. “I have allies everywhere, sources of energy that you can only imagine.”
Nobu could well imagine, knowing the number of yokai is his thrall, and now having seen the sampling of humans venerating him and working in his service.
“I can make many things easier for your clan,” Inaba said quietly. “Or not.”
He sucked in a breath. Somehow he’d known it would come to this.
“What do you want?” he asked through his clenched jaw.
“There is a matter. A threat to all that I’ve built here—all that I—”
“I cannot hope to go against Rialka,” Nobu interrupted. “Nothing in my arsenal would suffice—”
“No. Rialka is mine to deal with.” The sheer hatred in the dark spirit’s tone sent a shiver down his spine. “It is another you can help with. Not Rialka, but her daughter.”
“That old tale?” Nobu was surprised enough to scoff. “I thought that was a bit of whimsy only humans cling to.”
“It is—because I have made it so. There have been others born with the potential to fill the prophesied role—but I have dealt with them all. This one, though, this one has proved difficult. She has eluded some very powerful yokai—so I thought it time I brought in some different sort of allies.”
Another wave of his hand and one wall went transparent, showing a zen garden outside—it’s tranquil sands and paths and rocks covered with a veritable horde of small, animal-like yokai. Dozens of them. All sorts. Cat-like Bakeneko, otter-spawned Kawauso, jade rabbit Gyokuto, even a tiny, rare, draconic Shussebora. They all seemed oblivious to Inaba and Nobu—all except for the largest—a four-tailed Kitsune perched on a rock. It sat, curled its luxuriant, tawny tails around it—and winked right at him.
“The wind demon who hunts the girl fails again and again. And he continually returns to the mountains where your clan resides. I want to know why. Follow him. See where he goes, who he tracks, what he’s missing.” Inaba raised a hand and the transparent wall disappeared entirely. All of the yokai outside stood at attention.
The Kitsune bestowed a vulpine grin on him. A private audience with Lord Inaba? The voice sounded at his right ear.
“You are the first I have asked,” Inaba told him. “The one with the greatest advantage—but not the only one I set to this task.”
What makes you so special? His left ear now. The Kitsune tilted his head at him.
“There may be others more eager to ally themselves with me.” Inaba made it sound like a warning.
“There may be,” Nobu agreed.
“Report back to me,” the dark spirit ordered. “And then we shall see what can be done for your clan.” He stepped forward to address the waiting yokai.
Nobu didn’t wait to hear it. He turned to leave and felt a phantom tweak of both of his tails.
See you out there, the Kitsune said with a chuckle.
“Not if I see you first.”
* * *
Nobu strolled down Hillsborough Street, the main drag of the university. This was the second time the wind demon had circled around to Raleigh—and the second time he’d trailed the perimeter of the school, sifting and sampling the air through his cyclonic tentacles. It made sense, Nobu supposed. The girl they searched for was old enough to pass for college-aged. He wasn’t learning anything just following Inaba’s minion around, though, so he decided to head for the main part of campus to look around.
He moved carefully, not comfortable with his little-used human form. He was concentrating on avoiding a crowd of students exiting a bus, when he noticed it.
A scent. So faint—and oddly familiar. He turned aside, searching for it, leaving the crowd and following the trail of it into a parking lot next to a sandwich shop.
There. Almost buried beneath the aroma of fresh, baked bread. The scent teased him, triggering memories of warmth, of sadness.
What—no who was that? He paused, but he really was no closer to finding the girl that Inaba sought—and he had to follow that familiar scent.
It led him to a house on the back edge of the parking lot. Painted purple, it smelled of beer in the front—but the back . . .
The scent was stronger here. It reminded him of . . . his grand-dam.
The thought struck a chord of sadness in him. She’d been a great yokai. A strong and warm leader of their clan. But how could a human scent—he thought that was what it was—so far away from home, bring her to mind?
A thick row of shrubbery nearly hid a walkway along the side of the house and a door at the back. Once he’d ducked behind the bushes he shifted back to his normal form—and the scent intensified. So did his need to understand. He circled around to explore the back of the house and had to struggle as he came back. Were the bushes actually growing thicker? Denser and harder to navigate? He pushed through and around the corner—and stopped when he encountered a girl on the protected sidewalk.
She froze too, then relaxed. “Hello,” she said gently. “How big you are!”
The scent. It was her. She was Asian, with disheveled hair that hung low over her eyes and a ball cap pulled over that.
“I haven’t seen you before,” she crooned. Then she abruptly straightened. “Two tails?” She frowned. “Two tails?”
He was instantly flooded with memory. A scene he’d forgotten, he’d been so young. He was a cub and his grand-dam lay dying. Help had come from an unexpected source. He recalled small hands, a smaller voice, the flash of silver from her eyes and those words. Two tails!
Nobu did something then that he hadn’t, in a very long time. He turned tails and ran.
Not far, though. He heard the door closed and he slowed. Could it be? Could Inaba be looking for this girl? He had to know.
Settling into a sunny spot on the restaurant’s dumpster, he waited.
He slept a little, with an ear open.
He watched the ebb and flow of students going to and from the main campus.
He saw a group of rowdy young men enter the front of the house, but the back still sat dark and silent.
And he waited.
Gradually, as time passed, he realized . . . he wasn’t the only one waiting. Something else watched him while he watched for her. Something yokai. Unfamiliar, and . . . diffuse. Impossible to track. But the awareness lay heavy between his shoulders.
It was midnight before anything happened—right when he was reconciling himself to staying up there for the night.
He caught the snick of the door opening. Hopping down, he hid beneath the shrubs and watched the girl leave. He stayed close as she left, abandoning the main road and walking the more residential streets. She slipped alongside a certain house and entered the backyard—and he leaped up onto the fence to follow.
Until he couldn’t go further, because the yard had been walled in—with three, high, multi-colored, hold-covered climbing walls. The girl was already tying herself in to an automatic belay device.
Nobu sat down atop the fence to watch.
Her climbing was a thing of beauty. It couldn’t have been easy, finding those holds with human eyes in the dark, but clearly she’d done this before. She started on the simple routes and worked her way up, as graceful on the under-hang grabs as she was on the uncomplicated climbs. After a while she heaved up and over the top of a wall and sat to rest on a ledge. A flash of silver as she looked his way both confirmed his suspicions and told him he’d been spotted.
She was on her feet already, and moving toward him. He jumped down to the far side of the fence and circled around the house before she’d reached the spot where he’d been.
Smiling, he shifted to human form and stepped toward the wall—and tripped over a bulging tree route that had not been there a moment before. Glaring at the thing, he immediately fell over another newly raised root.
Something else was here.
Muffling a curse, he switched back to Nekomata form, leaped onto a low, fat hold and then easily maneuvered his way to the top. Shifting again, he grinned downward and then reached over, poked his head up and said, “Hi!”
The girl whirled around, automatically ducking her head so that her hair fell in her eyes—but not before he saw the silver starburst there. “Uh, hi?”
He pulled himself up and waved toward the house. “Do they know you are here?”
She shrugged. “They don’t mind.”
“Cool.” She kept her distance, so he settled into place and tried to appear non-threatening. “Why at night?”
It took a moment before she answered. “I like to be alone with the course.” She kept her head down and the rest of her beyond easy reach. “I guess that’s weird, huh?”
“No.” What was weird was the scent of her flooding his memory again. It all came rushing back and he could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye. The poison and destruction, his clan dying. The spirit Rialka, summoning his grand-dam, arranging for their transfer to the cleaner mountains of North Carolina. Her . . . assistant? A man who received them. A man with gentle hands and a soft voice—and a daughter. This girl, just a toddler, who rubbed soothing hands over his grand-dam and curled up to sleep with him—just a cub himself.
“I don’t think I believe in weird,” he answered. “Or coincidences.” He held still and eventually she sat, letting her legs dangle over the edge.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Mei. Yours?”
“Nobu.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. Maybe that’s why I prefer weird?” He laughed.
She shrugged. “Judge character, not class,” she began.
He straightened and chimed in finishing it with her. “Know a creature by his actions, not his words.”
“My father used to say that,” she explained.
“Yeah? I’ve heard it too.” He’d heard her father say it, when his grand-dam asked why he, a human, had gone to so much trouble to help them.
His head was awhirl. What was he going to tell Inaba? It was her he was looking for—this girl whose family had saved his, the child who had made his grand-dam’s passing one of dignity.
He would not turn her over to the dark spirit.
“What’s your major?” She asked the question he’d heard several times today. Easy conversation.
“Oh, I’m not a student. I’m just passing through. But I saw you—on this—and I couldn’t resist.” He tilted his head. “What’s yours?”
“Not a student either.” She gave no other explanation, and he asked for none.
“You know, you look familiar.” She frowned at him.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” He smiled. “We knew each other in another life, I guess.”
“Maybe.” She hopped to her feet. “You didn’t happen to see a cat down there, did you?”
“Nope.” True, if not completely honest.
“Maybe I imagined it. Or remembered it.” She turned around. “Have you ever seen a cat with two tails?”
He scoffed. “Whoever heard of a cat with two tails?”
“Yeah.” She stepped down and onto a solid hold. “Well, see ya.”
He leaned toward her. “Be careful out there.”
She nodded. “You, too.”
She was soon gone. He climbed down too, but when he reached the bottom, he leaned against the wall. “You can come out now,” he said.
Nothing. But that awareness sat between his shoulder blades, still.
“I know you are here.” He waited. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
Silence.
“I know you must be protecting her. You can rest easy. I’m leaving.”
She materialized right in front of him, then—a tree spirit of some kind, in the form of a young woman. “You’re not going to . . . tell?”
“No.” Nobu nodded and tried to step past her.
“Wait!” She moved in his way again. “You can’t leave yet! You have to help me get rid of the other one!”
He moved carefully, not comfortable with his little-used human form. He was concentrating on avoiding a crowd of students exiting a bus, when he noticed it.
A scent. So faint—and oddly familiar. He turned aside, searching for it, leaving the crowd and following the trail of it into a parking lot next to a sandwich shop.
There. Almost buried beneath the aroma of fresh, baked bread. The scent teased him, triggering memories of warmth, of sadness.
What—no who was that? He paused, but he really was no closer to finding the girl that Inaba sought—and he had to follow that familiar scent.
It led him to a house on the back edge of the parking lot. Painted purple, it smelled of beer in the front—but the back . . .
The scent was stronger here. It reminded him of . . . his grand-dam.
The thought struck a chord of sadness in him. She’d been a great yokai. A strong and warm leader of their clan. But how could a human scent—he thought that was what it was—so far away from home, bring her to mind?
A thick row of shrubbery nearly hid a walkway along the side of the house and a door at the back. Once he’d ducked behind the bushes he shifted back to his normal form—and the scent intensified. So did his need to understand. He circled around to explore the back of the house and had to struggle as he came back. Were the bushes actually growing thicker? Denser and harder to navigate? He pushed through and around the corner—and stopped when he encountered a girl on the protected sidewalk.
She froze too, then relaxed. “Hello,” she said gently. “How big you are!”
The scent. It was her. She was Asian, with disheveled hair that hung low over her eyes and a ball cap pulled over that.
“I haven’t seen you before,” she crooned. Then she abruptly straightened. “Two tails?” She frowned. “Two tails?”
He was instantly flooded with memory. A scene he’d forgotten, he’d been so young. He was a cub and his grand-dam lay dying. Help had come from an unexpected source. He recalled small hands, a smaller voice, the flash of silver from her eyes and those words. Two tails!
Nobu did something then that he hadn’t, in a very long time. He turned tails and ran.
Not far, though. He heard the door closed and he slowed. Could it be? Could Inaba be looking for this girl? He had to know.
Settling into a sunny spot on the restaurant’s dumpster, he waited.
He slept a little, with an ear open.
He watched the ebb and flow of students going to and from the main campus.
He saw a group of rowdy young men enter the front of the house, but the back still sat dark and silent.
And he waited.
Gradually, as time passed, he realized . . . he wasn’t the only one waiting. Something else watched him while he watched for her. Something yokai. Unfamiliar, and . . . diffuse. Impossible to track. But the awareness lay heavy between his shoulders.
It was midnight before anything happened—right when he was reconciling himself to staying up there for the night.
He caught the snick of the door opening. Hopping down, he hid beneath the shrubs and watched the girl leave. He stayed close as she left, abandoning the main road and walking the more residential streets. She slipped alongside a certain house and entered the backyard—and he leaped up onto the fence to follow.
Until he couldn’t go further, because the yard had been walled in—with three, high, multi-colored, hold-covered climbing walls. The girl was already tying herself in to an automatic belay device.
Nobu sat down atop the fence to watch.
Her climbing was a thing of beauty. It couldn’t have been easy, finding those holds with human eyes in the dark, but clearly she’d done this before. She started on the simple routes and worked her way up, as graceful on the under-hang grabs as she was on the uncomplicated climbs. After a while she heaved up and over the top of a wall and sat to rest on a ledge. A flash of silver as she looked his way both confirmed his suspicions and told him he’d been spotted.
She was on her feet already, and moving toward him. He jumped down to the far side of the fence and circled around the house before she’d reached the spot where he’d been.
Smiling, he shifted to human form and stepped toward the wall—and tripped over a bulging tree route that had not been there a moment before. Glaring at the thing, he immediately fell over another newly raised root.
Something else was here.
Muffling a curse, he switched back to Nekomata form, leaped onto a low, fat hold and then easily maneuvered his way to the top. Shifting again, he grinned downward and then reached over, poked his head up and said, “Hi!”
The girl whirled around, automatically ducking her head so that her hair fell in her eyes—but not before he saw the silver starburst there. “Uh, hi?”
He pulled himself up and waved toward the house. “Do they know you are here?”
She shrugged. “They don’t mind.”
“Cool.” She kept her distance, so he settled into place and tried to appear non-threatening. “Why at night?”
It took a moment before she answered. “I like to be alone with the course.” She kept her head down and the rest of her beyond easy reach. “I guess that’s weird, huh?”
“No.” What was weird was the scent of her flooding his memory again. It all came rushing back and he could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye. The poison and destruction, his clan dying. The spirit Rialka, summoning his grand-dam, arranging for their transfer to the cleaner mountains of North Carolina. Her . . . assistant? A man who received them. A man with gentle hands and a soft voice—and a daughter. This girl, just a toddler, who rubbed soothing hands over his grand-dam and curled up to sleep with him—just a cub himself.
“I don’t think I believe in weird,” he answered. “Or coincidences.” He held still and eventually she sat, letting her legs dangle over the edge.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Mei. Yours?”
“Nobu.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah. Maybe that’s why I prefer weird?” He laughed.
She shrugged. “Judge character, not class,” she began.
He straightened and chimed in finishing it with her. “Know a creature by his actions, not his words.”
“My father used to say that,” she explained.
“Yeah? I’ve heard it too.” He’d heard her father say it, when his grand-dam asked why he, a human, had gone to so much trouble to help them.
His head was awhirl. What was he going to tell Inaba? It was her he was looking for—this girl whose family had saved his, the child who had made his grand-dam’s passing one of dignity.
He would not turn her over to the dark spirit.
“What’s your major?” She asked the question he’d heard several times today. Easy conversation.
“Oh, I’m not a student. I’m just passing through. But I saw you—on this—and I couldn’t resist.” He tilted his head. “What’s yours?”
“Not a student either.” She gave no other explanation, and he asked for none.
“You know, you look familiar.” She frowned at him.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” He smiled. “We knew each other in another life, I guess.”
“Maybe.” She hopped to her feet. “You didn’t happen to see a cat down there, did you?”
“Nope.” True, if not completely honest.
“Maybe I imagined it. Or remembered it.” She turned around. “Have you ever seen a cat with two tails?”
He scoffed. “Whoever heard of a cat with two tails?”
“Yeah.” She stepped down and onto a solid hold. “Well, see ya.”
He leaned toward her. “Be careful out there.”
She nodded. “You, too.”
She was soon gone. He climbed down too, but when he reached the bottom, he leaned against the wall. “You can come out now,” he said.
Nothing. But that awareness sat between his shoulder blades, still.
“I know you are here.” He waited. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
Silence.
“I know you must be protecting her. You can rest easy. I’m leaving.”
She materialized right in front of him, then—a tree spirit of some kind, in the form of a young woman. “You’re not going to . . . tell?”
“No.” Nobu nodded and tried to step past her.
“Wait!” She moved in his way again. “You can’t leave yet! You have to help me get rid of the other one!”
* * *
The next day, Nobu barreled down Hillsborough, pushing students aside, laughing and looking over his shoulder. Just as he’d predicted, and just as he passed Mei’s purple house, a yokai popped up right in his path. The Kitsune, in human form. Somehow he’d known it—and he’d recognize that sly grin anywhere.
“Oh, you,” he grunted. “I nearly ran you down.” He glared at the other yokai. “How did you know it was me?”
“I could smell you anywhere,” the Kitsune said snarkily.
“Ha. Well, get out of my way.” Nobu grabbed the yokai’s arm. “On second thought, walk with me and help with my disguise.”
“Running from a girl?” the Kitsune mocked, peering behind them.
“Mother of monsters, no.” Nobu laughed. “But warn me if you see a houseful of boys bearing down on us, will you?”
“Boys? What are you playing at?” The yokai raised a brow. “Don’t think you can fool me. I know you followed the wind demon here.
Where’s the girl?”
“What? You haven’t found her yet?” Nobu mocked.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“Well, I doubt she’s here. That demon is only half-heartedly sifting his way around, while he waits for his tame Tengu to show up. But you feel free to spend as much time searching here as you like. I’m heading out, now that I’ve had my mischief.”
“Mischief?”
With a twitch of his little finger, Nobu manufactured the sound of distant sirens. “Oops, that mischief.” He grinned. “A houseful of brats thought it would be sooooo funny to tie fire crackers to the tails of a couple of defenseless cats. I just returned the favor—and set off a fistful under each of their beds.” He slowed his step as the sirens faded. “I never could stand a human who abused a cat.”
He shot the Kitsune a jaunty salute. “Happy Hunting. I’m off to beat the demon and his flunky to their next destination. Maybe Inaba’s prize will be there.”
The Kitsune folded his arms. “I saw you tailing a human girl last night.”
Nobu kept going. “Hope you have better luck with yours.” He held his breath, hoping the Kitsune would take the bait. But though the yokai watched him go, he shrugged and turned back—presumably to his surveillance spot across from Mei’s house.
Cursing, Nobu kept going long enough to be sure the Kitsune hadn’t changed his mind, then he popped back to the grove of trees and shrubs behind the purple house.
“It didn’t work,” he told Hana, the tree spirit. “We’re going to have to come up with something else.”
“We have to hurry. She’s getting ready to make a delivery to the store that stocks her washi paper.”
Nobu cursed under his breath. “I can probably lure her away, if I show myself in Nekomata form. But it would only work once—and we’d need a distraction anyway.” He sighed. “Well? Rialka posted you here to watch over her, right? Presumably, you have skills?” He raised a brow and waited.
Hana faded the smallest bit. “Not at first,” she admitted. “My tree, my grove in Japan, they—”
“I know,” he said softly.
“Rialka brought me here and I was so tired, so weak and heartsore. But I’ve grown so much since then. The grove of trees here helps, along with . . . just being in Mei’s presence.” Her brow wrinkled. “You know, don’t you? That Mei is . . . special?”
He nodded. He did know. He didn’t know just what she was, but he’d seen it first hand. Already weakened, his grand-dam had barely survived the transfer from Japan, but Rialka’s ally—Mei’s father—had placed his little girl right alongside the old, fierce Nekomata leader. Nobu had seen his grand-dam strengthen under her caress. He’d seen how the child had crooned and the old yokai had gained enough strength to pass her wishes on to the clan with dignity and grace, enough to say goodbye.
“We have to keep her hidden,” Hana insisted.
“I know.”
“I’ve already tripped him up once—the same way I raised the roots in your path. I could do something drastic, but if the tree branches reach down and grab him up, it will give us away in any case.”
“Just how far have you advanced?” Nobu asked. “Can you shift?”
Paling again, she nodded. “Not well.”
He grabbed her thin arms. “This could be the answer.”
“But what should I shift to? What would scare him away?”
“No—I draw Mei away—and you shift to be her. Engage the Kitsune. Convince him she’s not who he’s looking for.”
“I’m not sure I can—”
“You must—and it must be convincing. That yokai is sharp.” At her panicked look he grew gentler. “You can do it. Rialka believed in you. Show her that she chose well. You can do it—for Mei.”
Determination blossoming, she nodded.
“Good. Quick, let’s do this before the Kitsune sniffs me out back here. Ready?”
She nodded and Nobu sent a couple of loud cat noises into Mei’s hideaway. “Oops, here she comes. Don’t forget to change her eyes!”
He leaped, shifting as he went, and was waiting on the stoop in Nekomata form when Mei poked her head out. He flicked his tails at her, then slipped into the shrubbery.
“You do have two tails.” She knelt and looked in at him. “Why do I feel like . . . I remember . . . that?”
He started to back away.
“No!” Immediately, she lowered her tone. “Come here, kitty,” she coaxed.
He waited, then inched further away.
Exasperated, she stood and reached back inside for her backpack. Locking the door, she crouched down and looked in at him. He was already slinking out the back and heading for the large tree behind the house. He stopped at the base and looked back at her.
“You know me, too, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.” She set out after him and he slid away again, to the residential street at end of the yard. “Oh, no, you don’t!” she called. “I want to get a look at you.”
He led her away, allowing her tantalizingly close several times, until he judged she was far enough away that she wouldn’t turn back home easily, but continue on her errand, instead. Then he ducked behind a car, concentrated, and popped back to his spot beneath her bushes.
Hana was there, looking remarkably like Mei and leaning against the railing as she talked with the Kitsune’s human form. “That’s why you look familiar?” she asked. “I did see someone trip over their feet on the sidewalk yesterday. That was a pretty spectacular fall. I hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”
“Just my pride,” the yokai said with a charming smile. “What’s your name?”
“Anna.” The tree spirit stuck out a hand and shook his, then swept her hair off of her face. She wore a very pretty pair of normal, blue, human eyes.
The Kitsune leaned in. “What’s that smell you are wearing? It’s . . . unusual.”
Nobu held his breath. The blue eyes widened. “Does it smell green?”
“Yes.” The yokai frowned. “It does.”
“Good! My roommate and I paid a small fortune for this organic cologne. The cute environmentalist guy in my earth science class should love it, though.” She hitched up her pack—a nice touch. “Well, I’m off to class. You coming?”
“No, thanks. I’m heading home,” he answered with a sigh.
“Okay, then. Nice to meet you!” She stepped around him and walked away.
Nobu held his breath as the Kitsune watched her go. The yokai turned around then, still frowning, and sniffed deeply.
Nobu abruptly popped out. He went back to the designated spot at the climbing wall.
After a quarter of an hour or so, Hana arrived.
“He’s gone! He snooped around the door for a while and then popped out. It worked!”
“You did it,” Nobu congratulated her. “Organic scent. That was pure genius.”
She giggled. “I didn’t know I could think so quickly!” Sobering, she said, “Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you. I’ll stay with wind demon for a few more rounds, then report back to Inaba.” He met Hana’s gaze. “You did well. And your work is important. We cannot let him get to her.”
“I know. I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t want to lead them here, by checking back, but please, call on me if you need help?”
She nodded and he looked once more over the climbing wall—and headed out.
“Oh, you,” he grunted. “I nearly ran you down.” He glared at the other yokai. “How did you know it was me?”
“I could smell you anywhere,” the Kitsune said snarkily.
“Ha. Well, get out of my way.” Nobu grabbed the yokai’s arm. “On second thought, walk with me and help with my disguise.”
“Running from a girl?” the Kitsune mocked, peering behind them.
“Mother of monsters, no.” Nobu laughed. “But warn me if you see a houseful of boys bearing down on us, will you?”
“Boys? What are you playing at?” The yokai raised a brow. “Don’t think you can fool me. I know you followed the wind demon here.
Where’s the girl?”
“What? You haven’t found her yet?” Nobu mocked.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“Well, I doubt she’s here. That demon is only half-heartedly sifting his way around, while he waits for his tame Tengu to show up. But you feel free to spend as much time searching here as you like. I’m heading out, now that I’ve had my mischief.”
“Mischief?”
With a twitch of his little finger, Nobu manufactured the sound of distant sirens. “Oops, that mischief.” He grinned. “A houseful of brats thought it would be sooooo funny to tie fire crackers to the tails of a couple of defenseless cats. I just returned the favor—and set off a fistful under each of their beds.” He slowed his step as the sirens faded. “I never could stand a human who abused a cat.”
He shot the Kitsune a jaunty salute. “Happy Hunting. I’m off to beat the demon and his flunky to their next destination. Maybe Inaba’s prize will be there.”
The Kitsune folded his arms. “I saw you tailing a human girl last night.”
Nobu kept going. “Hope you have better luck with yours.” He held his breath, hoping the Kitsune would take the bait. But though the yokai watched him go, he shrugged and turned back—presumably to his surveillance spot across from Mei’s house.
Cursing, Nobu kept going long enough to be sure the Kitsune hadn’t changed his mind, then he popped back to the grove of trees and shrubs behind the purple house.
“It didn’t work,” he told Hana, the tree spirit. “We’re going to have to come up with something else.”
“We have to hurry. She’s getting ready to make a delivery to the store that stocks her washi paper.”
Nobu cursed under his breath. “I can probably lure her away, if I show myself in Nekomata form. But it would only work once—and we’d need a distraction anyway.” He sighed. “Well? Rialka posted you here to watch over her, right? Presumably, you have skills?” He raised a brow and waited.
Hana faded the smallest bit. “Not at first,” she admitted. “My tree, my grove in Japan, they—”
“I know,” he said softly.
“Rialka brought me here and I was so tired, so weak and heartsore. But I’ve grown so much since then. The grove of trees here helps, along with . . . just being in Mei’s presence.” Her brow wrinkled. “You know, don’t you? That Mei is . . . special?”
He nodded. He did know. He didn’t know just what she was, but he’d seen it first hand. Already weakened, his grand-dam had barely survived the transfer from Japan, but Rialka’s ally—Mei’s father—had placed his little girl right alongside the old, fierce Nekomata leader. Nobu had seen his grand-dam strengthen under her caress. He’d seen how the child had crooned and the old yokai had gained enough strength to pass her wishes on to the clan with dignity and grace, enough to say goodbye.
“We have to keep her hidden,” Hana insisted.
“I know.”
“I’ve already tripped him up once—the same way I raised the roots in your path. I could do something drastic, but if the tree branches reach down and grab him up, it will give us away in any case.”
“Just how far have you advanced?” Nobu asked. “Can you shift?”
Paling again, she nodded. “Not well.”
He grabbed her thin arms. “This could be the answer.”
“But what should I shift to? What would scare him away?”
“No—I draw Mei away—and you shift to be her. Engage the Kitsune. Convince him she’s not who he’s looking for.”
“I’m not sure I can—”
“You must—and it must be convincing. That yokai is sharp.” At her panicked look he grew gentler. “You can do it. Rialka believed in you. Show her that she chose well. You can do it—for Mei.”
Determination blossoming, she nodded.
“Good. Quick, let’s do this before the Kitsune sniffs me out back here. Ready?”
She nodded and Nobu sent a couple of loud cat noises into Mei’s hideaway. “Oops, here she comes. Don’t forget to change her eyes!”
He leaped, shifting as he went, and was waiting on the stoop in Nekomata form when Mei poked her head out. He flicked his tails at her, then slipped into the shrubbery.
“You do have two tails.” She knelt and looked in at him. “Why do I feel like . . . I remember . . . that?”
He started to back away.
“No!” Immediately, she lowered her tone. “Come here, kitty,” she coaxed.
He waited, then inched further away.
Exasperated, she stood and reached back inside for her backpack. Locking the door, she crouched down and looked in at him. He was already slinking out the back and heading for the large tree behind the house. He stopped at the base and looked back at her.
“You know me, too, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.” She set out after him and he slid away again, to the residential street at end of the yard. “Oh, no, you don’t!” she called. “I want to get a look at you.”
He led her away, allowing her tantalizingly close several times, until he judged she was far enough away that she wouldn’t turn back home easily, but continue on her errand, instead. Then he ducked behind a car, concentrated, and popped back to his spot beneath her bushes.
Hana was there, looking remarkably like Mei and leaning against the railing as she talked with the Kitsune’s human form. “That’s why you look familiar?” she asked. “I did see someone trip over their feet on the sidewalk yesterday. That was a pretty spectacular fall. I hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”
“Just my pride,” the yokai said with a charming smile. “What’s your name?”
“Anna.” The tree spirit stuck out a hand and shook his, then swept her hair off of her face. She wore a very pretty pair of normal, blue, human eyes.
The Kitsune leaned in. “What’s that smell you are wearing? It’s . . . unusual.”
Nobu held his breath. The blue eyes widened. “Does it smell green?”
“Yes.” The yokai frowned. “It does.”
“Good! My roommate and I paid a small fortune for this organic cologne. The cute environmentalist guy in my earth science class should love it, though.” She hitched up her pack—a nice touch. “Well, I’m off to class. You coming?”
“No, thanks. I’m heading home,” he answered with a sigh.
“Okay, then. Nice to meet you!” She stepped around him and walked away.
Nobu held his breath as the Kitsune watched her go. The yokai turned around then, still frowning, and sniffed deeply.
Nobu abruptly popped out. He went back to the designated spot at the climbing wall.
After a quarter of an hour or so, Hana arrived.
“He’s gone! He snooped around the door for a while and then popped out. It worked!”
“You did it,” Nobu congratulated her. “Organic scent. That was pure genius.”
She giggled. “I didn’t know I could think so quickly!” Sobering, she said, “Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you. I’ll stay with wind demon for a few more rounds, then report back to Inaba.” He met Hana’s gaze. “You did well. And your work is important. We cannot let him get to her.”
“I know. I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t want to lead them here, by checking back, but please, call on me if you need help?”
She nodded and he looked once more over the climbing wall—and headed out.
* * *
Inaba
Inaba
“West Virginia?” Inaba asked. “So far?”
The Nekomata nodded. “There is a commune of organic farmers there. Quite a large, insular community and many refugees have settled there as well. The wind demon, like you, has yokai scouting for him. There are several of them concentrated there—and he spent a long time sifting scents in their community. If I had to make a choice, I’d say that was your best guess.”
Inaba made a unintelligible sound. “Yet you could not single her out?”
“They do not easily admit strangers,” the Nekomata said, lowering his head. “I could hardly go in wearing my natural form. But there are several candidates there of the right age. Perhaps one of your less conspicuous yokai can get in close.”
Inaba raised his head. “It is a good notion. Thank you for your report.”
The Nekomata bowed and turned to go. Beyond him, a long line waited for a turn at an audience.
“About your clan . . .” Inaba deliberately let his words trail away.
The Nekomata turned back. “I did not find the girl. I expect nothing—except that you will call on me again, should my services be needed.”
A very nice answer. And delivered well, for a lie. “Perhaps I shall.”
Inaba waited for the yokai to get beyond the great chamber’s walls—then made a motion with his hand. The waiting courtiers all melted away—except for the four-tailed, golden hued Kitsune who approached from the side.
“Raleigh, you say?” Inaba asked.
“I believe so, my lord.”
“Fetch me the wind demon. And tell him to bring his Tengu.”
The Kitsune disappeared.
And Inaba, folding his hands, waited.
The Nekomata nodded. “There is a commune of organic farmers there. Quite a large, insular community and many refugees have settled there as well. The wind demon, like you, has yokai scouting for him. There are several of them concentrated there—and he spent a long time sifting scents in their community. If I had to make a choice, I’d say that was your best guess.”
Inaba made a unintelligible sound. “Yet you could not single her out?”
“They do not easily admit strangers,” the Nekomata said, lowering his head. “I could hardly go in wearing my natural form. But there are several candidates there of the right age. Perhaps one of your less conspicuous yokai can get in close.”
Inaba raised his head. “It is a good notion. Thank you for your report.”
The Nekomata bowed and turned to go. Beyond him, a long line waited for a turn at an audience.
“About your clan . . .” Inaba deliberately let his words trail away.
The Nekomata turned back. “I did not find the girl. I expect nothing—except that you will call on me again, should my services be needed.”
A very nice answer. And delivered well, for a lie. “Perhaps I shall.”
Inaba waited for the yokai to get beyond the great chamber’s walls—then made a motion with his hand. The waiting courtiers all melted away—except for the four-tailed, golden hued Kitsune who approached from the side.
“Raleigh, you say?” Inaba asked.
“I believe so, my lord.”
“Fetch me the wind demon. And tell him to bring his Tengu.”
The Kitsune disappeared.
And Inaba, folding his hands, waited.
