Spirit's Chosen (52 page)

“There’s never been anything ‘mere’ about you, Kaya,” I declared.

“Nor about you, Himiko,” Lady Ikumi said quietly, indicating the massed Ookami. “If I hadn’t been here, I’d find it hard to believe that a single word from your lips now would make you the unchallenged ruler of this clan in a heartbeat. And judging from the way my own men are
staring at all this, you could probably take the leadership of the Shika as well.”

“Lady Himiko?” Troubled by my silence, Chizu trembled, still awaiting my reply. “Lady Himiko, have I said anything to offend you?”

Spirits, guide me
, I prayed, and walked forward smiling, to let Chizu and all the Ookami know that this parting was in truth a beginning for us all.

“Emi,
please
stop fussing with my hair,” I said. “It looks perfect.”

“Oh, so now you have the power to see the back of your own head?” my stepmother said crisply. “Try putting that over on someone who never wiped your nose for you.” She continued twiddling with the arrangement of my looped tresses while Mama and Yukari watched.

“But you’ve been working on it
forever
!”

“Whose fault is that? This wouldn’t take so long if you weren’t fidgeting.”

“Himiko, let Emi do her work,” Mama said with a serene smile. She was her old self again, her bruised mind completely healed with Noboru’s return, many seasons ago. “This is a very important occasion. Many high-ranking visitors will be attending the ceremony today. You have to look your best and make a good impression.”

“As if she hasn’t made enough of an impression on
these people already?” Yukari said. “Our little girl is becoming a legend.”

“ ‘Our little girl’ isn’t even a chieftess yet,” Mama reminded her. “Not officially, until after today’s formalities. First things first.”

“Well, for someone who’s not
officially
a chieftess, she’s managed to accomplish more than any of our noble guests, chieftains included!” Emi broke in. “I’ve lost count of how many clans have become part of the alliance, once they learned of her powers.”

“Which do not include seeing the back of my own head,” I remarked dryly. “If more clans want to forge bonds with the ones who are already our friends, it’s because they’ve seen how we’re all thriving.”

“Then why did every last one of them send a delegation here to meet
you
before they agreed to join with us?” Emi challenged me. “The stories about your influence with the spirits travel faster than any reports of new prosperity;
that’s
what brings them! And they always leave convinced that everything they heard about you is true.”

I sighed. “As long as the old way of war dies, let them say what they please about my part in it. I wish they wouldn’t tell such extravagant stories about me, but if it lets us extend peace over this land, I’ll be happy.”

And I’ll be happier if we could make even more changes for the better
, I thought.
Some of the clans that have become our allies still keep slaves. Will I ever command enough authority to guide them away from practicing such oppression? Can I hope to make my people
—all
of my people—see that we must put an end to the
things that divide us if we are to be strong and enduring? How can shattered ground support us? How can a splintered jewel shine?

“There.” Emi set down her comb with a little sigh of contentment. “Now you’re ready.”

My mirror and wand lay on the floor before me. I took my precious image of the sun goddess from my belt and bound it to the mirror’s handle with a strand of silk cord that I had set aside when my three mothers helped me dress in the fine robes I now wore. The delicate fabric clung to my body like water as I stood up.

“Hey, what’s taking so long?” Kaya stuck her head through the doorway. “Everyone is getting impatient.” When she saw me, she gasped. “Himiko, you look
wonderful
.”

“Good, because I
feel
awful,” I said. “I’m not used to this dress. I’m probably going to trip on it, land flat on my face in front of everyone, and die of embarrassment.”

“Don’t worry,” Kaya replied. “When your clan built you this new house, they made it higher than all the rest. If you trip when you step out onto the platform, you’ll probably dive straight over the side and break your neck. No embarrassment there!” She linked her arm through mine and added: “Really, Himiko, do you think any of us would ever let you fall?”

As she led me outside to where Master Michio was waiting, I thought:
This is only the beginning. When I face the evils that still dwell among us, I will not despair if I cannot destroy them overnight. I will set my eyes on the right road and believe that our people will follow me, soon or later. With the spirits’ help, change will come
.

Kaya brought me to stand next to Master Michio and stepped aside to join the rest of my assembled family on the platform. Lord Hideki held Noboru on his shoulder. Takehiko and Sanjirou looked very grown up and dignified, though the solemnity of the occasion didn’t stop them from “accidentally” treading on each other’s toes or sneaking a furtive nudge followed by poorly muffled snorts and giggles. My big brother Masa was grinning proudly. He had never wanted to be our chieftain, and could not have been happier to see me about to accept that honor.

I gazed out over the crowd that had come to witness my official ascension as chieftess of the pine tree people. All of the Matsu were there, as well as the chieftains and nobility of every clan that had agreed to ally themselves with us. They ruled their domains, but by their own consent, my words ruled them. I still could hardly believe it was so.

Master Michio was almost as splendidly robed as I was. He beamed when he saw me. “Is it wrong to tell a great chieftess that she is as lovely as the sunrise?” He pitched his voice so that only those of us on the platform could hear his fond words.

Emi stole close to whisper, “If he thinks you look pretty now, I can’t wait to see what he says when we dress you as a bride.”

I only smiled and lowered my eyes. Although it would disappoint all of my mothers deeply, they would never have the joy of preparing me for my wedding. My heart had been given with love, with passion, with faith, and without regret. It would not be given again. The one who once held it absolutely in this mortal world now cherished it in the
realm of the spirits. Our parting might be short or long, as the gods desired, but it would not be forever. He would not mind the wait.

For now, for him, for the gods, and above all, for the people of my beloved land, I had a purpose to fulfill that would carry me beyond the blessed life of wife and mother. I heard Master Michio clap his hands, then strike a long, resounding note from the sacred bell.

“Come forward, Lady Himiko, our chieftess! In the name of the spirits, come forward, our healer, our guide, our queen!”

I turned to the people and raised my mirror high, so that the goddess’s image could be seen. The radiant circle of polished bronze held their faces, the splendor of the sun, and the truth I embraced with all my heart: we dance.

Our breath dances with the wind that carries the scent of spring flowers, sun-touched grass, and the keen fragrance of towering pines. Our feet dance lightly to the joyful music of celebration, or slowly, with deliberate grace, to the measured song of our daily tasks. Our laughter dances defiantly in the face of darkness. Above all, our spirits dance through the beauty all around us, and also—whether we know it or not—through the shadow worlds whose hidden wonders lie just beyond our sight, waiting for us to find the path that will lead us there. In song or in silence, waking or dreaming, by the glorious light of the sun or by the faint glimmer of a single star, we dance.

We dance.

I might as well confess: I made several attempts at writing this afterword before settling on the one you’re reading now. Sometimes a piece of writing just does not
want
to be written. It’s like taking care of a very stubborn toddler, when you discover that “I don’t WANNA!” can be expressed passively, aggressively, assertively, rudely, crudely, verbally, physically, silently, loudly, and in so many other ways that it will make your head spin.

The problem with my other afterword attempts was that once I’d decided to write something about
Spirit’s Chosen
, I realized that I wasn’t working on an afterword but a
lecture. I’ve given enough lectures—just ask my kids. If I have to take you by the shoulders, point you at a particular character or scene or Author’s Message in my book, and declare “There! Look at
that
! Pay attention to it! It’s important!” then I haven’t done my job as a writer. Worse, it would mean I’ve decided that you aren’t smart enough to make your own choices about what is and isn’t important in the books you read. (To say nothing of presuming that what is important to me must be important to you too.)

Wouldn’t that be ironic, considering that all my Princesses of Myth books are about girls who strive for the freedom to make their own decisions?

That’s why I’ve made a decision of my own: to set aside all attempts at lecturing, preaching, or teaching a Valuable Lesson (you know, the kind they administer with a virtual mallet on some television programs) and instead invite you to share some of the memories and experiences I gathered during my visits to Himiko’s country, Japan.

I’ve visited Japan twice. The first time, I was accompanying my husband on a business trip. He had to work all day, so I was entirely on my own. I didn’t understand, speak, or read Japanese, but I did try to acquire some basic phrases before we left home, such as:

“Hello.”

“Good-bye.”

“Please.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Pardon me, but I don’t understand Japanese.”

“Where is the [insert name of the place I needed to find], please?”

I also picked up some information about etiquette, including:

Women hold their hands differently from men when bowing.

If you want to indicate something with a gesture, do not point with one finger. Use your entire hand.

A little about table manners, especially how you should and should not use chopsticks.

If someone gives you a business card, accept it respectfully, with both hands. Don’t just stuff it into your pocket or purse. Look at it and then put it away carefully. It’s important.

If you don’t speak Japanese, don’t ask, “Do you speak English?” People who don’t speak English will lose face. Instead, you should say, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand Japanese.” (And make the effort to say it
in
Japanese. If I can do it, so can you!) At that point, people who speak English will happily do so, and those who don’t will still do their best to help you.

I spent almost all of my first trip to Japan in Tokyo. I’d planned to make an overnight visit to Kyoto, but plans don’t always work out. I took the train all the way there, got cold feet, and went back to Tokyo the same day. Jet lag was to blame.

I have a healthy spirit of adventure and enjoy exploring, testing my limits, having off-the-tourist-route experiences, and trying new things. Unfortunately, my spirit of adventure wilts when I’m tired. It’s a long flight to Japan from my New England home, and jet lag opened the door to countless doubts: “I’ll be all by myself in Kyoto and I don’t speak
Japanese! What if I get sick? What if I have to call my husband in Tokyo and I can’t figure out how to use the phone? What if I go into a restaurant and nobody there speaks English? I don’t speak Japanese! How will I be able to order? What if I run out of money? What if I get lost and miss the train back to Tokyo? Oh my gosh, I
still
don’t speak Japanese!”

Now here’s the funny thing: Before I could go back to Tokyo, I had to cancel my Kyoto hotel reservation.

By telephone.

And … wait for it … I don’t speak Japanese. (Surprise!)

Well, what do you know? I did it. I figured out how to use the telephone, I called the hotel, and I kept repeating my most useful Japanese phrase, “Please excuse me, I don’t understand Japanese,” until I was connected with someone who spoke English. Mission accomplished!

I was also able to change my return ticket to Tokyo. My train didn’t leave for several hours. During that time I managed to visit one of the many lovely shrines in Kyoto, have lunch, and get myself back to the train station without anyone’s help. I didn’t get lost. I didn’t miss my train.

And most important, once I recovered enough from my jet lag to realize that I had faced nearly every one of the fears that had sent me running back to Tokyo, I did
not
repeat the mistake of letting self-doubt keep me from having a wonderful time on my own for the rest of my stay!

Besides taking myself to lots of museums and shrines, I enjoyed some not-in-the-guidebook experiences, including:

Discovering a parade—with dancers, huge drums, and portable shrines—passing by our hotel one night.

Finding my way to the Meiji shrine in Yoyogi Park and
getting
happily
lost among the towering trees when it was time to head back. How wonderful to be in the heart of one of the world’s most vibrant, modern cities, yet to feel nothing but the tranquil embrace of the forest! (I also met a very elegant and solemn cat who graciously permitted me to scratch his chin. When you’re far from home and you miss the special people in your life, you can call them on the phone. When you miss your cats, nothing but meeting another cat will do.)

Encountering the Harajuku Guardian Angels in the midst of their project to pick up street litter, asking if I could help, and being welcomed. (Once again, I do not understand Japanese, but we managed to communicate anyway. They gave me a baseball cap, a T-shirt, and the memory of a definitely
non
-tourist experience.)