Toshi had left Marrow-Gnawer on the roof of the academy to make sure the moth was not discovered. The nezumi had never flown before and he was as giddy as a schoolgirl when the great insect carried them up into the clouds. Toshi couldn’t bring the Taken One into the realm of shadow, but he could cause it to fade as he did. Once they were both immaterial, all Toshi had to do was guide the stone disk up to the roof, where he could lash it to the moth. From there, he could take it anywhere in Kamigawa.
After half an hour of steady, nerve-wracking work there were only a dozen civilians and a handful of soldiers left to rescue. Toshi signaled for the next party of eight to approach him, but Nagao and Silver-Foot interrupted him.
“Captain Silver-Foot will stay with the others in Jukai,” Nagao said. “But my men and I need to get back to Eiganjo.”
Toshi shook his head. “This isn’t a ricksha service, Captain. And if it is, no one’s tipped the driver yet. I agreed to get you to safety, and I will. Where you go after that is your problem.”
Nagao reddened. “I am a captain in the daimyo’s army,” he flared. “My country is at war and I have been here, helpless and besieged. Do you understand duty, friend? Obligation?”
Toshi inhaled to answer, but Kiku spoke first. “It’s coming,” she said. She casually sniffed the camellia on her shoulder and drew her fuetsu throwing ax.
A low, panicked murmur rose from the far end of the room. Three sets of black jaws had already appeared, snapping at empty air as they floated purposefully toward the remaining survivors.
Silver-Foot and Nagao quickly charged across the room and positioned themselves between the retreating survivors and the growing flock of hungry mouths. There were over a score of them now, with more appearing every second. The officers gestured to the other soldiers and these brave fighting men formed a line that stretched all the way across the center of the room.
One of the soldiers cried out as a savage set of teeth clamped onto his sword arm. With inhuman precision, Silver-Foot sliced the set of jaws in half from the rear, bringing the edge of his sword within a hair’s breadth of the stricken soldier’s skin. Separate, the upper and lower rows of teeth stubbornly clung to their morsel before they evaporated into smoke. In response, the other mouths oriented on the bleeding man and drifted toward him.
Under Silver-Foot and Nagao’s careful command, the soldiers carefully deflected and avoided the floating jaws away from the occupied side of the room. It was a good idea not to antagonize the All-Consuming Oni of Chaos any further, but Toshi feared it was an idea that had come too late. The demonic spirit had been struck, and now the smell of blood seemed to tell it there was prey to be had. The far corner of the room soon filled with hungry mouths that seethed and buzzed like a swarm of angry bees.
A survivor in academy robes moved up and clutched Toshi’s arm. “Come on, man, what are you waiting for? Take us away from here.”
Toshi shrugged the man off. “Wait,” he said. “Try to keep still. It hasn’t done any real damage yet, and it won’t if we all just keep quiet.”
The academician moved back, his eyes still wide and fearful. Kiku sidled up next to Toshi.
“How do you know that?” she whispered.
“I don’t,” he whispered back. “But I think the only reason they lasted this long was because that thing is in here with them.” He pointed to the Taken One. “I think Hidetsugu’s oni is afraid of it.”
Kiku and Toshi watched together for a moment as the cloud of mouths rose up to the ceiling. Some of them turned and pointed themselves directly at the Taken One. Slowly, menacingly, they began to float towards the stone disk.
“Not anymore,” Kiku said.
Silver-Foot appeared in front of Toshi, startling the ochimusha once more. He’d have to learn how the foxfolk did that trick without the blessings of a major myojin.
“Take as many as you can and go,” the fox captain said. “We’ll cover your retreat.”
Toshi looked Silver-Foot in the eye. “No good,” he said. “Anyone who doesn’t make this trip will be dead by the time I get back.”
“We are willing to make that sacrifice.”
“But I’m not. If this place is overrun by the oni, I’ll never get that thing out of here.” Even as they spoke, the oni’s ravenous jaws were encircling the stone disk, testing and biting the air around it.
Toshi had spent more time with the kitsune lately than he ever had before, so he was accustomed to reading their blank, inscrutable expressions. Silver-Foot’s short muzzle crinkled and his eyes flashed. He was furious.
“Thief,” he growled. “Is your treasure worth your own life? For I will cut you down where you stand unless you take these people to safety right now.”
“Then we all die.”
“So be it. I will not let you choose an inanimate thing over the lives of my charges.”
Kiku stepped forward, sniffing her flower again. “That’s not a decision you get to make, kitsune.”
Simultaneously touched and disturbed by Kiku’s sudden protective streak, Toshi considered his options. Silver-Foot’s sword was out and Toshi glanced down at its glowing edge. He looked back at Kiku, then up at the kitsune, and then he smiled.
“What if I offered you a third option?”
“I would listen. Do it quickly.”
“My treasure and your people are threatened by the same thing. Stand aside and I’ll take care of both our problems.”
“How can you do this?”
Toshi twirled his jitte. “Just pull all your people back … over there, away from the disk and the oni. I’ll take it from there.”
Silver-Foot paused. “We can help you.”
“I don’t need you to help. I need you to watch.”
Visibly unconvinced, Silver-Foot made an angry clicking sound in his throat. But he turned and quickly went back to the line of soldiers. In a matter of moments, Silver-Foot and Nagao had herded their men and the remaining survivors into the safest corner of the room.
Kiku sheathed her axe. “Good luck, Toshi.”
“Thanks.”
“No, I mean it. If you die, I’ve got no way out.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose that’s all right, too. I suppose a kiss is out of the question?”
Kiku glowered as she withdrew to the far wall.
The oni’s mouths had filled the far end of the room from floor to ceiling and they were still expanding, still increasing in number. A smaller cloud now encircled the Taken One, though so far none had been bold enough to test their teeth against it.
Toshi took a deep breath. He cleared his thoughts, picturing the vast expanse of darkness and void that housed his myojin. He pictured the Myojin of Night’s Reach as he had always known her: a bone-white mask of a woman’s face framed on a field of luxurious black fabric. The curtain of black was held by a pair of disembodied arms and was attended by pale, ghostly hands that followed her like servants.
Night’s Reach was one of the oldest and most powerful spirits known. In fact, some of Kamigawa’s religions believed that Night and Chaos were the first spirits, from which all other spirits drew their substance. Toshi knew for a fact this wasn’t true, but he was heartened by the comparison. If he were going to pit his patron spirit against Hidetsugu’s, at least they were of the same high pedigree.
O Night’s Reach. Toshi’s thoughts were as focused and urgent as a desperate whisper. Grant a humble acolyte your blessings once more. In your name, I act. For your glory, I call for your aid.
There was no reply, not in his mind or in the vast ocean of darkness he saw in his mind’s eye. But a familiar sense of something huge began building inside him, like wave about to break or a bubble about to pop. He felt as if he had held his breath for an hour, and his lungs were screaming to exhale, like his sinuses were packed with ragweed and the upcoming sneeze would blow his head to pieces.