chapter 7
Oberon had been so patient while we fixed my tattoos that I declared we needed to hunt before we did anything else. Owen thought it a fine idea but decided to be our spotter instead of joining in. In the earliest gray of dawn, I shape-shifted to a hound and he assumed his bird form, a red kite, before taking wing and searching for game. After a few minutes he gave a screech to the east and we ran over to see what he had found, and it was a small herd of deer.
Owen and I shifted back to human after we brought down a buck, and we waited until Oberon had eaten his fill—neither of us was particularly fond of eating in our shape-shifted forms. Owen practiced speaking English with me to fill the time. He could understand the flow of speech pretty well now, but speaking is always tougher than listening. He was nailing the accent, though, and once he achieved fluency he would fit in fine.
It was as we were getting dressed again, back at the binding site, that we were surprised.
"Atticus, someone’s coming. Over there in the trees."
I squatted down by reflex to minimize my silhouette, and Owen did the same without knowing what had alarmed me. We were squinting toward the tree line when a tiny, delicate woman wearing a rich red-and-white kimono appeared from behind an alder, perhaps fifty yards away. Seeing that I had spied her, she bowed. I inclined my head but kept my eyes on her. Aside from the fact that she was something of a visual non sequitur—an outfit like that belonged in Kyoto, not the Pyrenees—there was something off about her. Unprovoked, Oberon growled and then barked aggressively.
Oberon, what’s wrong?
"That’s not a lady, Atticus!"
Okay, thank you. I’m warned of her, and she is warned of you. Please hush so that I can hear her if she speaks.
She had a narrow face, high cheekbones, and large, close-set eyes. Those eyes were currently fixed on Oberon, and her entire frame seemed to quiver, the way frightened animals sometimes do. Her black hair was twisted and piled atop her head, held in place with jade pins, and these blurred in my vision with distance and her shuddering fear.
Oberon, I need you to retreat out of sight. Let her see you leave.
"But why?"
I think she wants to talk but she won’t while you’re here, and I would really like to know what she has to say.
"Don’t trust her, Atticus."
I won’t. I don’t.
"Okay, then." Oberon turned and trotted away until the underbrush obscured him completely, though he’d gone only thirty yards or so. I rose and bowed to the woman, and she nodded in return but did not move toward me for a full minute. Her eyes focused behind me where Oberon had disappeared. Perhaps she was making sure he wasn’t coming back. During the course of that minute, her shaking gradually calmed and she regained her composure, and Owen rose and stood next to me.
“Who the feck is that, Siodhachan?” he whispered. “Never seen a woman like that.”
“And you probably never will again. This is a treat. Just watch. It’s safe, I think.” I could have checked her out in the magical spectrum, but there was no need. Judging by clues of her behavior, I thought I already knew what she was. Owen didn’t, and I heard him speak the words to cast magical sight. I doubted it would tell him much beyond what Oberon had already said: That lady wasn’t really a lady at all.
Finally satisfied that it was safe to draw closer, she approached another ten yards, then twenty, before stopping. She bowed again and spoke Japanese in a soft, ethereal tone. Owen quietly breathed, “Balls,” frustrated that he couldn’t understand.
“Begging your pardon, honored sir, but may I speak with you briefly?” the woman said.
“It would please me if you did. This one is called Siodhachan ó Suileabháin.” At the mention of my name, Owen shot a questioning glance at me. I didn’t have time to explain, unfortunately.
“Then you are he whom I seek,” the woman said. “This unworthy one is called Fujiwara-no-Kuni. We are much alike.”
“How is that so?”
“We are both bound creatures. We serve that which is greater than ourselves. And we do not always show the world our true face.”
I gave her a small smile. “I serve Gaia. Whom do you serve?”
“I serve the celestial and radiant Inari, who wishes to speak with you on matters of great import, provided your will and convenience be untroubled.”
“This one is honored and grateful for the invitation. Where should I seek an audience?”
“Seek her at Fushimi Inari-taisha near Kyoto. Do you know of it?”
“Yes.”
Kuni pulled one of the jade pins out of her hair and flourished it with a graceful twirl of silken sleeve before tossing it to me gently. I caught it and held it still, away from my body.
“Place that at the foot of any kitsune statue around the shrine and call my name,” she said. “There are many statues spread across the mountain. I will come and usher you to Inari herself.”
“I understand and will visit very soon. May I ask, however, how you knew where to find me?”
“You may. This I am permitted to answer, but I must begin with a question. Do you remember a dream you had featuring the Vedic god Ganesha?”
“I remember very well,” I said. He had instructed me to leave Hel alone and delivered a not-so-subtle threat should I choose to ignore his orders.
“I was instructed to say that, in the dream, Ganesha mentioned he represented certain other parties. The one I serve, the sublime Inari, is one of those parties. And another of those parties is omniscient. He can find you regardless of your iron protection. My mistress wishes to speak with you more about the issues originally raised by Ganesha.”
“Understood. Thank you for your trouble. I wish you and your mistress harmony, Fujiwara-no-Kuni.”
“Good health and good fortune to you, Siodhachan ó Suileabháin. This one apologizes for not speaking to your companion. Please accept this small gift as a token of my respect for you both.” She bowed and then abruptly shrank into her kimono, which fluttered to the ground. A white fox with five tails leapt out of it and, with a flash of fur, disappeared into the forest, leaving the kimono behind.
“A five-tailed fox!” Owen exclaimed. “Why’d it have five tails? Does it have five arseholes?”
“No. Well, I guess I really don’t know—uggh, gods, I hope not! I never thought about it before. But never mind! That was a kitsune, a messenger of the Shinto gods in Japan. The number of tails indicates its relative power. Five is not the most powerful, but neither is it weak.” I silently let Oberon know it was okay to return now.
“What did she want?”
“I have been summoned to visit the goddess Inari. Well, I was invited, but such invitations are really given with the expectation of attendance. Willing to spend some more time with werewolves?”
Owen shrugged. “Sure, they’re fun when you’re not around.”
I ignored his gibe and said, “All right, let’s go back to Arizona and I’ll present you to the Tempe Pack. The alpha there, Hal Hauk, handles my legal affairs, and if you decide you like him, he can handle yours too. He’s well connected with packs around the world.”
“Sounds like the werewolves kind of run things now.”
“No, not really. They have no interest in running anything but their own territories. I prefer dealing with them because they’re human most of the time and have largely human priorities. And if I want something from them, all they want is money. When you deal with witches or vampires, they always want favors instead.”
“You won’t find me dealing with witches or vampires.”
“I don’t imagine I will. Come on. Let’s grab that kimono and I’ll introduce you to the horrors of the internal combustion engine.”
“Make sense, damn you.”
“That robe is called a kimono. The kitsune left it for you.”
“She did? What am I supposed to do with it?”
“I imagine it will make a great gift.” The silk had whorls of darker red in it, subtle layerings of color from fire-engine scarlet to burgundy, and was bordered at the edges in white with textured grass blades in cool grays.
“Oh, ye want me to give it to ye, is that it? Well, feck off. It’s prettier than three pairs o’ tits, and I’m keeping it.”
Since there was no way to shift directly into the Phoenix metro area—a limitation I appreciated very much when I was hiding from the Fae—we shifted back to Flagstaff, and I rented a car there to drive down into the Valley of the Sun. It was an opportunity to introduce him to modern materials like plastic and rubber and asphalt.
Owen planned to visit the Tuatha Dé Danann after he’d acquired his ID, and I told him that he should get up to Sam and Ty’s place somehow when he returned and call me from there. Dropping him off on Mill Avenue in Hal’s care, I wished I could stay and enjoy lunch with them, but Inari was waiting for me. I turned directly around and drove back the way I came.
Even with the delay, I was able to keep that appointment in Japan in not quite six hours. I never did tether too many places there to Tír na nóg, which often forced me to make some long trips into the cities when I had reason to visit in modern times, but one of the few places I had tethered in the old days happened to be Mount Inari in Kyoto. It had been my good fortune to spend time in the country during the dawn of the Tokugawa shogunate, and I thought Nijo Castle, with its fascinating nightingale floor, was worth keeping an eye on. I tethered an area near the top of Mount Inari because I could see even then that space was at a premium in Japan and the valleys would all be developed soon enough. The only safe place to tie up was on mountainsides.
Parts of Mount Inari were developed anyway, but the developments were Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples rather than residences, and the trees had been left alone, apart from what was needed for the slim paths through them. The largest and most famous of the shrines was Fushimi Inari, with its hundreds of vermilion torii to usher the faithful up the mountain. Walking the paths underneath those gates could take an hour or two. When I shifted to the mountain with Oberon, we arrived near the top. Back in Arizona it had been late afternoon, but here above Kyoto it was already dawn of the next day, and wan light filtered through the canopy of trees. We threaded our way through the forest until we found one of the shrine paths and followed it down. At a place where the path crossed another, it was watched over by two kitsune statues. These statues were often carved of gray stone, and the kitsunes were sometimes depicted holding a key to the granary, a scroll, or a ball in their mouths. The one I chose held a scroll, emphasizing the kitsune’s role as a messenger of Inari; it was supported by several levels of pedestals, blocks rising like a layered wedding cake, high enough so that we had to look up at the statue. Since Oberon had missed my conversation with the kitsune, he wasn’t quite caught up on what we were doing, other than visiting a shrine. When he took in the kitsune, his ears pricked up with interest.
"Atticus, is that supposed to be a statue of a hound?"
No, it’s a kitsune. A fox.
"Oh. Is that a sausage in its mouth?"
No, it’s a scroll.
"A scroll? Okay, I just lost all respect for that fox. Every canine knows you only put food or toys into your mouth."
Is that so? You used to fetch my newspaper for me.
"Well, yeah, but that was in another country, and, besides, you wouldn’t make me breakfast until I did."
Perhaps this kitsune will get a treat after it delivers the scroll. Did you think of that?
"No, but if that’s the case, the artist made a terrible decision choosing his subject. The awarding of a treat would have been much more worthy of a shrine."
I needed Oberon to entertain himself while I concentrated on summoning the kitsune, so I said to him, Think long and carefully on this before you answer, because it will literally be set in stone. If there was a shrine to Oberon the Irish Wolfhound and you were sculpted with a single treat in your mouth, what would that treat be?
"Only one treat? Well, uh … that would be …"
Take your time.
Oberon swayed on his feet, physically rocked by the magnitude of the query. "Whoa. That is a very serious question, Atticus. I’d better go lie down over here and consider it."
Go ahead. I’ll wait.
With Oberon situated, I pulled the jade pin out of my pocket and placed it at the base of the statue, keeping my fingertip in contact with it as I spoke.
“Fujiwara-no-Kuni, it is I, Siodhachan ó Suileabháin, here to see Inari as promised. I await you here at the base of this statue.” I kept my eyes on the face of the statue for several seconds, then I let go of the pin, turned, and sank down until my back rested against the base of the pedestal. I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait. It might be quite some time. Considering that I had met Fujiwara-no-Kuni in the Pyrenees only six hours ago, it was silly to expect her to be waiting for me in Japan now. Unless she had some method of traveling quickly, as many messengers of the gods do.
Turned out that she did. Perhaps twenty minutes later she walked up the path from below, wearing a white kimono this time with a cherry blossom pattern. As before, she stopped some distance away, not wishing to get too close to Oberon.
"Atticus, it’s that same lady who’s not a lady!" he said, springing to his feet. He was startled because he’d been so deeply absorbed in his meditation on treats.
I know. But she means us no harm. Do not growl or bark at her, and do not leave my side, okay? It would be rude.
"Okay."
The kitsune bowed deeply before speaking. “Welcome to Japan, honored Druid. This one will take you to Inari. Please follow me. We will walk for a short distance.”
“I will follow. Arigato gozaimasu.”
We trailed after the gray bow of her obi down to the bottom of the mountain, actually leaving the grounds of Fushimi Inari and walking a block away into the neighborhood surrounding the shrine. There were modest single homes with patios or gardens ringed by bamboo fences and tiny cars parked underneath overhanging second stories. During the walk, Oberon shared with me his musings.
"Atticus, the question you asked me cannot be answered."
It can’t?
"No, it’s a Zen thing."
What? Who’s been teaching you Zen?
"Clever Girl. She says I’m Zen sometimes. And what you have posed to me is this thing called a koan."
I know what koans are, but I don’t follow.
"Look, Atticus: What is the sound of one snack happening?"
Ohhh, yeah. You’re right, Oberon, that’s very Zen.
Fujiwara-no-Kuni took a right, leading uphill once more, and then stopped in front of an interesting building that did not look like a residence at all. It looked more like the walls of a compound. A rock foundation rose from the sloping sidewalk to provide even ground for the interior; above this, the walls were covered with thin wooden planks, stained brown and weathered with deep grooves. The canted roof was covered in gray tiles, but this covered only what amounted to a thick wall; the center was open, as the tops of trees could be seen peeking out from inside. The kitsune bowed to us and raised her right hand to indicate the structure.
“This is ōhashi-ke Teien, the private garden of ōhashi-san. My mistress awaits you inside. Enter, please.” She bowed again and backed away, and I ducked my head at her in thanks. A sign outside the door indicated that this was something of a tourist destination, originally built in the early twentieth century. We were entering far earlier than its posted hours, however, and, indeed, apart from our presence and the chirping of morning birds, the street still slept.
Step in quiet and careful with me, Oberon, ears and eyes open.
"Are you expecting an ambush?"
Pretty much all the time. It’s because I like to be surprised with peaceful welcomes.
This surprise proved to be an especially peaceful one. ōhashi’s garden had twelve stone lanterns of differing styles in it, each nestled amongst carefully sculpted hedges and trees and flowering vines spreading their leaves along the walls; two suikinkutsu fountains provided a pleasant echo of falling water. Two gravel paths dotted with stepping stones wound through the garden, and where they intersected was a large round temple stone. A small shrine rested in one corner, and in another was a wee building constructed in the style of a teahouse but which was more of an arbor, a place where one could take shelter from the elements yet still enjoy the garden. It had a circular window with white paper and a fine network of bamboo over it.
A beautiful woman in a red yukata tied with a white obi stood on the opposite side of the garden. It was a bit late in the year for a yukata, which was normally a summer garment, but she seemed comfortable. She bowed to me, flicked open a fan in front of her face, and gestured to the arbor.
"Atticus, she’s not a lady either."
I know, buddy. It’s okay.
Inari waited inside the arbor, kneeling on a tatami mat. Though sometimes she manifested as a male, in this instance she had chosen a female form, resplendent in a kimono of lavender overlaid with a deep-blue floral pattern. I asked Oberon to wait outside the arbor and I entered, taking a place across from Inari on the mat. She beamed at me and bade me welcome, expressing gratitude for my time. We traded pleasantries, as custom demanded. Being a deity associated with rice, she did not have tea to offer but rather sake, and she wasn’t pulling any punches: It was the undiluted kind, called Genshu sake, 18 to 20 percent alcohol.
She noted that Granuaile and I had recently spent time in Japan to heal. That was only a few weeks ago, when we had spent time in a Tokyo ryokan—a more apt description for the traditional lodgings than hotel—and made frequent visits to the onsen. “Did you find the earth replenishing?” she asked.
“Yes, very much so. Thank you.”
After we both had taken a sip of our sake and the opening niceties had been thus punctuated, we could move on to business. The goddess adopted a posture of stillness, cup held in one hand and resting in the palm of the other. When she continued to speak, she switched from her native Japanese to English. “ó Suileabháin-san, we have heard of your troubles with the Olympians and congratulate you on solving that particular problem.”
I liked how she phrased that. With the aid of Pan and Faunus, Artemis and Diana had hunted me across Europe, and I’d barely survived—hence the need to heal in Inari’s country—yet she presented it as if I’d solved a brainteaser in the Sunday paper. I wasn’t sure who we were, but maybe she had adopted the royal we.
“It is not entirely solved,” I said. “Diana still wishes to destroy me. But I suppose the rest of the Olympians are at least loosely allied with me now.”
“In truth, we are relieved. It is a fortuitous sign. But more must be done.”
I felt that I had better clarify the pronoun before I spent the entire conversation in uncertainty. “I’m sorry, but I do not understand. Who’s we?”
“All of us,” she said, which didn’t clarify at all. “But now the stakes are being reset. Our adversary is scheming in a more clever fashion.”
“Our adversary in Tír na nóg?”
“I speak of the Norse god Loki. He is recruiting the darker figures of several pantheons to his side, and now you must actively recruit as well. You are a free agent, whereas most pantheons cannot act unless it is specifically in their purview to do so; they are reactive, in other words, to threats from outside their own belief system. Do you see?”
“No,” I admitted.
“If a boy in Bangalore asks Ganesha to intercede on his behalf, I cannot interfere, and Shango cannot answer the prayers of a girl in Osaka who prays to me. So while we are aware that Loki plots against us, we are largely powerless to act until he directly threatens our territory. Human agency—human urging—is necessary for almost any action we take. And most humans are not even aware of what is happening.”
“And yet you are permitted this meeting?”
Inari smiled primly. “I can share sake and converse with whomever I choose.”
“Why do you not choose one who worships you, then?”
Her smile widened. “I assure you that I have.”
“Fine. Where is your hero or heroine now?”
Her eyes flicked to the garden gates. “Nearby. Protecting this place. You would not have seen them coming in.”
Oberon overheard and spoke up from outside the arbor. "Does that mean she has ninjas, Atticus? Does she?"
Shhh. I need to concentrate.
“All right,” I said. “Who is Loki recruiting?”
“He is speaking to the darkness almost everywhere. But before he acts directly, he begins with pestilence to weaken us. And if he cannot spread disease directly, he will do so indirectly. I am a scion of good health and prosperity in Japan; I am therefore a target. Removing me allows disease to spread more rapidly and creates instability. It is a prelude to more forceful maneuvers.”
Granuaile and Laksha were dealing with disease-spreading rakshasas in India, and the coincidence was worrying, because it might not be a coincidence at all. Was Loki’s hand involved there too? I recalled that when we were on the run from Artemis and Diana, he had shown up in Poland and shape-shifted into a blue-skinned Vedic demon. Why take that particular form unless it had been fresh in his mind? And if it was fresh in his mind, what had he been doing in India recently?
“I think I see what you mean,” I said, “but I am not sure what you wish me to do.”
Inari opened her mouth to reply, but angry shouting and the zing of drawn steel interrupted, followed closely by roars and a tremendous impact that shuddered the wooden floor. I stood and darted out of the tiny arbor, drawing Fragarach in anticipation of meeting something large and aggressive.
"Atticus, what was that?"
Probably the ambush I always expect.
Four huge, red-faced oni—horned, bearded, and tusked—tore through the walls of the garden, swinging spiked iron clubs to smash the puny critters drinking sake in serenity. Two black-clad swordsmen, presumably Inari’s chosen heroes, chased them in. I scrambled for the back wall and Oberon automatically followed me, but instead of focusing on the oni, he was riveted by Inari’s heroes.
"Whoa! Atticus, I think I see the ninjas! Do you see them too?"
Those aren’t really ninjas, Oberon.
"Aw, dang it! Well played once again, ninjas. Well played."
Watch out for the red giants. I cast camouflage on my hound in hopes that they wouldn’t be able to target him. I also tried my best to focus on the oni rather than the show Inari was putting on. While I hoofed it to give myself some space and time to set myself, she barked a short command, as animal trainers sometimes do, something like “HUP!”—and then she erupted through the roof of the arbor, an effortless leap during which she drew her katana. At the zenith, she hovered impossibly for more than a second, long enough to make me think gravity had been suspended in her area. It was temporary, however, for a large white flying fox with nine tails materialized in motion underneath her and swept her away in a dizzying spiral of silk and fur that confused the oni even more than it did me.
Remembering the woman who had pointed me to the arbor, I glanced at where she had stood and saw her yukata puddled on the ground. Of course, she was now the flying fox.
The oni swung and whiffed as they tried to bat Inari out of the air, and that slowed their charge. That allowed the two swordsmen to close the distance and slice through the tendons at the backs of two of the oni’s knees. They made almost identical slashes, but the creatures fell very differently. One fell forward, doing no harm to anyone but himself as he was impaled upon a stone lantern, but the other collapsed backward, crushing the swordsman underneath him. The remaining two kept trying to track and lay into Inari, ignoring me altogether, and I felt a small tremor of existential vertigo as I realized that I wasn’t the target for once. The oni thought me insignificant, and as such it behooved me to make sure they dismissed me at their great peril.
Stay back, I told Oberon, and charged silently at the nearest oni as he twisted his neck around to follow the flight of Inari. These guys wore actual loincloths but apparently had missed out on decades of laundry commercials that shared the secret to keeping their undies stain-free. They were savage hulking brutes but still vulnerable to speed and steel. My attack wasn’t the sporting kind, but assassins rarely expect sportsmanship since they don’t practice it themselves. He never saw me coming, so the sword I thrust underneath his sternum and up into his heart was quite the surprise. He spasmed, dropped his club, and began to topple forward. I didn’t have time to yank out the sword, so I tumbled to my right and let him fall on it. Now weaponless, I looked up to see that the attention of the last oni standing had been drawn by my ambush on his comrade. His spiked club was already on its way down, aimed at my head. All I could do was throw up my forearms and hope he didn’t turn me into paste.
Something hit him in the chest, however, as he swung, and that caused his arm to jerk forward in reaction. The club crashed down next to my left shoulder, one of its spikes opening a gash there. I rolled away, pushed myself up, and played some parkour using the slain oni’s body as a launching point. I put the body between myself and the other one, then whirled around to check his position as Oberon’s voice said, "Atticus, are you okay?"
Yeah. Was that you?
"Yep, I took him down."
Thanks, buddy, but get away and let Inari finish him. The goddess was circling around as if she was lining herself up for a strafing run.
"Yikes!" A blur of gray color near the oni’s chest signaled Oberon’s hasty retreat, and Inari sailed off the back of her fox, sword held high until she whipped it down to chop through the oni’s neck. A spray of blood fountained from the throat, ruining Inari’s silks and revealing Oberon’s position once it landed on him. "Auugh! Now I smell like liquid ass!"
Behind me, a roar of dismay heralded the end of the final oni who had been hamstrung by the black-clad warriors. The surviving swordsman had dispatched it while it was unable to rise from the ground. Wicking the blood away from his blade, he sheathed it and strode over to Inari, promptly falling to his knees before her and prostrating himself. A stream of profuse apologies flowed from his mouth, along with a demand that she take his head for his failure to protect her.
“Rise,” she said, and he did but kept his eyes lowered. “Which one are you?”
“This unworthy one is Tsukino Hideki.”
“No one survived outside?”
“Only myself, Radiant One. We killed two more oni out there.”
“You have done well, Tsukino-san. Resume your vigil.”
“Hai.” He bowed again and, silent and deadly, slipped outside the breached walls. The giant nine-tailed kitsune took up a position on Inari’s left, sitting up straight on the temple stone, much like the statues outside her shrine.
Oberon, come to my left side please, and do not even think of messing with that fox. That’s not merely a kitsune; that’s a tenko—more than a thousand years old.
"Don’t worry, I won’t. Flying foxes are even more unfair than flying squirrels."
I dispelled his camouflage, and the tenko watched him trot over to me. The poor hound’s coat was matted with blood.
“You see the problem, ó Suileabháin-san,” Inari said. “I recognize these oni. They lived on the slopes of my own mountain in peace for centuries, out of sight of humans. It would have never occurred to them on their own to attack me here. Loki is whispering and giving the darkness ideas. But we cannot move against him based on whispers.”
“And I can?”
“Yes. It is time for you to act.”
“Act how?”
“As you see fit. Ganesha impressed upon you the need for circumspection years ago. There is no longer any need for such caution.”
“Why not? What’s changed?”
“The Olympians are engaged on our side. Had you acted earlier, they never would have been.”
“Are you saying you could not have recruited them on your own?”
“That is what I am saying. Again, human agency is required. For some actions we need a plea for intercession.”
“Forgive me, Inari, but that sounds faintly ridiculous. I now gather that you are part of a consortium of gods working together. Ganesha is one and I know there are others. At least one of them is omniscient and capable of finding me wherever I am, regardless of my cold iron aura.”
“Correct.”
“So then you are capable of acting together without human agency.”
“No.”
“Loki is hardly acting at the behest of humans. Nor is Lucifer or Iblis or any other deceptive deity you wish to name.”
“True, but that does not disprove my point. The darker powers are fundamentally different. They were conceived from the beginning as free agents to sow chaos and behave in their own self-interest. But about deities such as myself, humans believe differently. They believe that we follow rules and so it is true. Their faith is a fence we cannot climb. In the normal course of events we are confined to ministering to our own people. But, in this case, our collaboration was specifically urged by a singular human who has faith in us all. Someone you know.”
“Who?”
Inari tilted her head to one side and said, “Do you remember Rebecca Dane?”