The Shattering Waves (sample)

The Shattering Waves, Chapter III (sample)

The red dust plain stretched around Nagomi, vast, flat and empty, as always.

Since fleeing Heian, all her dreams had been about waking up in this desolate place. Every night, she closed her eyes on Earth and opened them in the Otherworld.

She looked around, resigned. There was nothing to draw her attention, just the endless, perfectly flat horizon, and an aimless breeze blowing from nowhere to nowhere. She faced the wind with closed eyes. For some unfathomable reason, it smelled of soot and smoke.

It made her think of Kyokō, the Scrying girl burned in Karatsu, and her sisters, all equally remarkable; and then Nagomi's thoughts ventured further, as she recalled the people she had met since leaving Kiyō.

There were so many. It was almost as if we were characters in a play, or heroes in a story.

But they were heroes in a story, she thought, with a sudden insight. Well, maybe not herself, but certainly Satō and Bran. If somebody ever wrote the history of this war, they would feature in it. "The Wizardess and the Dragon-Rider". And what about the priestess? a member of the audience would ask. So sorry, we didn't have enough actors. We replaced her with this wooden cut out of a girl holding a lamp.

The breeze ceased and the plain turned quiet again, quiet and empty. Empty. There was something wrong about the emptiness. She opened her eyes.

"They are all at the Gate," said a familiar voice. "Storming it, trying to get out into our world again."

Torishi sat on a round white boulder that had appeared out of nowhere. He again wore his long mane and thick beard, and the rich ceremonial robes of the Kumaso. A bow and a broadsword hung on leather belts across his back. Though his body in the Otherworld bore no scars, she saw pain in his tired, grey face. He was pale, almost translucent. She wanted to embrace him, but he looked so weak, she feared it would exhaust him even further.

"The Gates?"

"The Gates of the Otherworld."

Bear is fearful, girl is bold.

"You and Bran both speak of it as if it was a real place ..."

"But it is, little priestess," Torishi laughed. "Did they not teach you about it? Don't tell me you Shamo priests no longer know of it?"

"Of what?"

"The bald mountain in the far north—"

"Where the hermits go to die," she finished for him.

It was supposed to be at the far end of Yamato: a sacred peak where the forest hermits and itinerant monks ventured in search of a peaceful end. A place on the edge of the physical and spiritual worlds. The legend said that those who died there would pass straight into the realms of the Gods. In Kiyō, thousands of ri away, few believed it to be anything more than a myth.

"It's not a myth," Torishi added, as if reading her mind. "You should have seen it in your visions."

"I didn't have any visions. All I see is this place. Something's changed, lost."

Torishi patted his beard in thought. The familiar gesture opened a dam of emotions in Nagomi's heart. She reached her arms around his trunk-like chest.

"Oh, Torishi, when are you coming for me? I'm worried."

The bear-man stroked her hair. "My wounds are not yet healed. I will come as soon as I can. Where are you now? Are you safe?"

"In Naniwa. We're hiding from the Taikun. It's a long story."

"Have you found the wizardess? Is the boy with you?"

"Satō is ..." She stumbled. "She's not here. Bran is somewhere in the city, hiding. I wish I had your herbs. I wish you were here."

Torishi scratched his head. His eyes turned solemn for a second, losing their spark. "I ... may not be able to reach you for some time yet."

"What do you mean? You are all right, aren't you? You will heal. You're strong."

His mane shook as he laughed. "Yes, I am strong. But it took me a great effort to reach you today."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, cub," he patted her head. "I just wanted to teach you something that may come in useful when I'm not around."

"Teach me — you mean, like a spell?"

Torishi had never divulged even the slightest secrets of the Kumaso magic. She tensed with anticipation — and a niggling anxiety. Why now?

The bear-man twirled a strand of beard between his fingers. "It's not the same as I use ... but it's similar. It will let you reach the boy's mind — or anyone's, as long you have something that belongs to them."

"I can arrange that. What are the words? And components?" She was eager to learn, but she hoped it wasn't too complicated.

Torishi smiled. He rose from the boulder. "In here, we don't need words. Close your eyes and free your mind, little priestess." He laid his heavy hands on her head.

Like a swelling tide filling out the estuary, the power of the spell filled out the nooks of her mind, and carried with it the words and the patterns she needed to invoke the magic. She gasped and reeled back from the impact.

He grasped her hand to stop her from falling.

"This — this doesn't sound like your language at all," she said, after playing the spell back in her head. It was a simple magic, without flames or herbs, just a handful of bird feathers, a shape to draw on a willow-wood stick and an incantation. The words sounded funny and there was a jarring dissonance in their melody.

"No. Had I known it before, I would have taught you sooner. I've learned it here, in the Otherworld."

"Who taught it to you?"

Torishi shook his head. "It doesn't matter for now. Do you remember it all?"

"I think so."

He turned serious. "Do not fear it. The Shadows will smell your fear on the Eagle's Path — and even though they're busy elsewhere, they will come for you. Use it with care and only when necessary."

"I understand."

The warning was unnecessary. She sensed a faint malevolence in the spell and knew she would not want to use it often. Whoever Torishi had learned it from, was somebody she little desired to meet.

Who lives here that can teach a magic like this? Who lives here at all? A kami? A demon?

A grimace of pain ran through the bear-man's face. He reached to his side. There was no wound visible there, but she knew in the real world his body must have been in agony for the pain to break through to his phantom self.

"You're straining yourself," she said. She touched the place of the wound. She couldn't do anything to heal it. "You should go back."

"You're right." He rubbed her shoulder with a gesture filled with sadness and longing. "I must leave."

"I don't know how long we will stay in Naniwa, and where we will go from here. Please hurry."

"Stay safe, little cub."

He clasped his hands together, bowed, and vanished.

Nagomi remained alone on the red dust plain. She sat down on the boulder — is it going to remain here forever? — and waited for the dream to end.

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Find more about the book here: https://jamescalbraith.com/books/#waves