The Wrath of Silver Wolf (13 page)

Securing a hold, Moon swung himself up and
into the maple. The young tree swayed. He turned,
bracing his legs in a slim fork, eyes sweeping to the
base of the trunk. His pursuer gazed keenly back
up at him. 'Snowhawk . . .?' he called without
looking.

'I'm clear,' she shouted from her tree. 'But we're
not going anywhere, are we?'

'This is crazy. It's . . . just a dog,' Moonshadow
said. Who was he kidding? It was no ordinary dog.
The Akita Matagi circled the tree, panting but
determined. It looked up at him with icy blue eyes
as it skipped sideways into a hunch, as if expecting
him to leap down that way and make a run for it.
Its unblinking stare was cold, ferocious, yet shone
with intelligence. The animal's thick coat failed
to hide its great muscularity.

Moon licked dry lips and studied his new
nemesis. This beast had big, thickly clawed feet
but narrow hips. It was built for speed, power
and
agility.

He had heard that these dogs wrestled bears to
the ground on command. His eyes flicked uphill.
Were there more of them? Or was somebody
watching, ready to give this animal orders? Such
possibilities meant that wounding the dog might
be a bad idea. He sneered. Besides, how could he
hurl shurikens at such a magnificent creature? The
very idea felt cowardly. But they had to get on with
the mission. He ran a hand over his pack.

That was it! The main ingredient of shinobi
blinding powder was pepper. If he could explode
a blinding bomb under that Akita Matagi's snout,
it would flee in wild irritation – like any dog –
but recover unharmed. Preferably elsewhere, he
thought with a grin.

Moonshadow unshouldered the pack and dug
out his tiny box of pepper bombs.

'That's a good idea,' Snowhawk called from her
tree. 'Just don't get its eyes.'

'Don't worry.' He raised a small, pepper-stuffed
bird's egg in one hand. 'I want it to be able to see
its way home as it runs off – sneezing!'

The bear hunting dog stared up at the black-painted
sphere in his grasp. Without a sound, it
peeled back its lips and showed Moon a gleaming set
of fangs. He faked a throw to see if it would flinch.
The dog didn't move. Moonshadow prepared to
hurl the blinding bomb for the spot between its big
front paws. But once the loaded egg left his hand,
the Akita Matagi scuttled backwards, turned fast
and ran to the foot of Snowhawk's tree.

The egg tore and crumpled on the forest floor.
A small puff of red dust escaped it. The big animal
watched Moonshadow impassively, avoiding the
bombed area as it trotted back to the foot of his
tree. It glanced at the ruined egg, then up at him
attentively.

'You're pretty smart,' Moonshadow told his
adversary. 'I'd better make you run before you
whip out an axe and really surprise me.' With a
fast whip-cracking motion he threw a second
pepper bomb. This time the dog bolted forward
with astounding acceleration. The bomb puffed
at
nothing
two paces behind its flicking tail. The
Akita Matagi trotted to the base of Snowhawk's
tree, waiting for the pepper cloud to disperse.

'I have only one more,' Moonshadow grumbled.
'What happens if I miss?'

'Don't know,' Snowhawk said wearily. 'Don't
miss!'

He lurched forward in the fork, made a
misleading feint with his hand, then tossed the
last bomb hard, aiming where he thought the dog
would go as it took evasive action. But the animal
simply held its ground, turning its large head
mildly to watch the pepper bomb fly past. Once
the egg struck the ground, the dog calmly padded
the opposite way.

'Damn you!' Moonshadow pointed at it. 'At
least you can't get us up here!'

The Akita Matagi tilted its head, eyes moving
between its two perched targets. It spun on the
spot and then broke into a charge, straight for
Snowhawk's tree. As it closed with the trunk, it
reared up on its hind legs and planted both paws
hard against the bark.

With an unsettling creak, the young tree
lurched. Snowhawk scrambled and braced herself
in its branches. The dog dropped back onto all
fours then turned and galloped for Moonshadow's
tree. It reared up and struck it in exactly the same
way, shaking its branches hard. Then, taking a few
steps backwards, the beast turned its great head
left and right, eerie blue eyes flicking between the
occupied trees. It grinned and panted, wagged its
long tail, then ran at Snowhawk's tree again. It
liked
this game.

'Now what?' Snowhawk huffed as her perch
was shaken. 'We just dangle here? Until our teeth
come loose and our enemies catch up?'

'No,' Moonshadow said decisively. 'There is
another way.' He caught his breath as he wondered
at his own stupidity. He could link his mind to
that of any complex animal. Thrown off balance
by the Akita Matagi's abrupt and sustained attack,
the most obvious solution had escaped him. Link
with it, control it, then – his eyes lit up as a plan
came to him – send the creature downhill with
orders to attack any shinobi it found.

He filled his chest proudly. A masterful strategy.
Using one problem to fix another. Eagle and
Mantis were going to be impressed. They'd call it
clever,
elegant
.

'Watch this.' Moon signalled Snowhawk. 'It
will roll on its back, any moment . . .'

He locked gazes with the dog. It narrowed its
eyes back at him. Moonshadow concentrated,
waiting for the tremors in his hands that told him
a link was being forged.

The dog's head flew back, muzzle creasing, eyes
rolling upwards. Its nose twitched violently. Moon
peered with knitted eyebrows. An unusually strong
reaction!

'There,' Moonshadow said, but he knew at
once that something was wrong.

With a splutter the beast threw its huge head
forward. It hunched, muscles in spasm, sneezing
hard. A clod of green mucus landed between
its paws. Snorting, the dog shook its ears, saliva
flicking from its jowls. It sneezed again.

'And
that's
the legendary Eye of the Beast.'
Snowhawk clapped. 'What an amazing science.
The power to make an animal catch a cold. Aw,
will you teach
me
?'

'Shut up,' he snapped. 'How can it be immune?
Something's not right here.'

'
Something?
We're being held hostage in trees
by a magical dog and all kinds of murderous foes
are trailing us. Oh, and it looks like we're going
to fail our mission too,' Snowhawk's voice rose
into a growl as she shook her tree angrily, 'and die
for it!'

Moon blinked at her writhing face and pity
snatched away all other feelings. He broke into a
tender smile. 'We're GLO, remember? If we mess
up, we get retrained. You're not Fuma any more.
You can fail
and
live. And people are supposed to
do both.'

'I hate being stuck!' She hung her head and
thumped the nearest branch in frustration.
Moonshadow nodded. He knew the real problem:
she hated her own anger.

A shadow crossed his face. Moon looked up.
A small falcon spiralled between the canopies, a
dead mouse in its claws. It dropped the rodent into
the crook of a nearby tree, then perched beside it,
hunching low, closely eyeing its intended meal.

'Let's try that again,' Moonshadow muttered,
staring at the falcon.

His hands trembled immediately. The bird
snapped around to gaze back at him.

As if sensing trouble, the Akita Matagi slowly
looked from Moon to the falcon.

Pushing straight to sight-control, the third
level of the Eye of the Beast, Moonshadow willed
the falcon to swoop the dog.

He closed his eyes and relaxed in the tree
perch, taking in only what the bird saw. Through
the usual shimmering water-like lens he watched
the dog stiffen warily on the forest floor. Its image
lurched to one side then another, quickly drawing
closer as the falcon descended on it. He saw the dog
skip backwards a few steps. It was intimidated.

Moonshadow opened one eye to check the
Akita Matagi with his human sight.

It ducked and cowered, belly in the leaves, as
the streak of feathered fury narrowly missed its
head.
Pursue and harrow
, Moon mentally urged
the falcon.

Snowhawk's relieved laughter raised his spirits.
They exchanged encouraging looks and sat back
to enjoy the show. The great dog broke into a run
between the trees, weaving and tacking, glancing
up every few strides to see where the falcon was.

The bird of prey
whooshed
past the dog's head,
making it cringe, then soared into a tight vertical
back-roll before descending in a power glide
behind its fleeing target. The dog looked back
and accelerated, cleverly ducking under low tree
branches to shield its back and tail as it made its
escape.

Powering into the distance, the beast quickly
shrank into a small, erratically turning black figure,
the pursuing falcon a tiny flying smudge above
it. As they disappeared around the curve of the
mountainside, Moon heard a sharp yelp. It echoed
through the forest. Despite its size and strength,
the Akita Matagi was starting to panic.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the
falcon's vision. The bird relentlessly swooped
the distressed dog, herding it downhill into the
ruins. Moonshadow nodded to himself as
the Akita Matagi ran through a glade of bamboo,
then ducked behind a low, crumbling stone wall.
Just its ears showed.

Moon released the falcon from his control and
swung himself out of his perch. As he dropped to
the ground, Snowhawk leapt down from her tree
and ran to him.

'I can't afford to keep it up,' he told her, already
feeling the drain to his life force. 'Any long level-three
joining wears me out. For now, that dog's
spooked. It's gone to ground, so we've bought
ourselves some time. Enough, I hope, to throw it
off our trail.'

Snowhawk immediately turned and started
running uphill. 'Let's not waste it then!' She glanced
back as he followed. 'We need to find streams and
cross them, so it can't pick up our scent again!'

They dashed uphill through the scattered
trees, the jagged rocky outcrops multiplying as
they climbed higher. On the crest of a small ridge,
Moonshadow's residual beast hearing detected
running water. He stopped and signalled its
direction to Snowhawk. She skipped along a low,
uneven wall of dark granite, leaping rock to rock,
eyes searching.

'Here!' Snowhawk shouted, pointing down.
Moon caught up to her. A thin, bright stream
bubbled downhill, cutting through the rocks in
a series of little waterfalls. They drank greedily,
soaked their aching feet in its icy melt water, then
walked uphill in the stream as far as its surrounding
rocks would allow them.

Moonshadow and Snowhawk staggered from
the refreshing brook. Doggedly they paced up the
mountainside until they came to the mouth of a
narrow rocky gully. Its floor was flat, covered with
a layer of dried leaves. Slanting granite horns rose
each side of it.

'We could rest in there,' he ventured wearily.
'It's hard to spot from most angles.'

'I'm so tired.' She stumbled into the gully,
sagging to the bed of leaves. 'We
must
rest.'

Moon nodded, flopping to the ground beside
her. He groaned. He felt as wrung out as she
looked and the temptation to steal a small nap
felt awfully strong.

He forced himself to resist the idea. He had to
stay at least
half
-awake.

Quiet minutes passed as they rested, the only
sounds their laboured breathing and the occasional
far-off bird call. Despite himself, Moonshadow
began to nod off.

Until he felt Snowhawk grip his hand.
Tightly.

'What is it?' He turned his head and looked
at her.

'I don't believe this,' Snowhawk whispered.
She motioned. 'Look. There.'

Moon rose up onto one elbow and followed her
gaze. His heart skipped a beat.

The Akita Matagi stood blocking the mouth of
the narrow gully, watching them.

The dog's chest heaved, but otherwise it
appear ed to have come through its falcon encounter
unscathed. Its head was low to the ground, big
paws spread, back tensed in a ready stance. From
what he'd already seen, if it charged, it could probably
reach them before they escaped the gully . . .
especially in their current depleted condition.

Moonshadow focused on the beast's icy blue
eyes. He grabbed Snowhawk's arm. 'Look at
that
,'
he muttered. 'I don't like the look of that.'

Lips peeling back, the dog showed its massive
canine teeth. They were dripping.

'Know what you mean,' Snowhawk whispered.
'Those teeth are
huge
.'

'Not the teeth,' he said quickly. 'The eyes.' He
sensed her look, felt her shudder.

The Akita Matagi's eyes were glowing, lit
from within by some strange energy, their blue
far brighter than before. The dog relaxed its lips,
hiding the drippy canines, but its cold stare never
left its cornered targets.

'That's why I couldn't take control of it.'
Moonshadow started reaching for his hidden
sword.

Snowhawk shook her head. 'Because somebody
else already has.'

She flinched as the mighty animal began
trotting into the gully.

TEN
Dangerous
friends

Private Investigator Katsu trudged up the third
flight of narrow, dark-wood stairs, his big
frame just squeezing between the posts at the top.

Samurai escorts led and followed him. Katsu
stepped through a dim porch with a tiled roof
and stone walls and out onto the battlements of
Momoyama Castle.

A gorgeous spring sunset, pink and apricot
shades, splashed the waning sky. The sun was be –
hind the high hills, its diffused light still strong
and faintly tinged with orange.

'Sunset,' the samurai behind Katsu said, 'is a
precious time of day. It reminds us that every glory
must fade and that all things, cruel or sweet, come
to an end.'

The man leading him grunted in agreement.

'You, sirs, are wise warriors indeed,' Katsu
said, smiling. He turned his head, admiring the
vista. Across the wide moat, the town of Fushimi
sprawled over low hills. He nodded at its greatest
landmarks. The tori gate near the entrance to
town, its modest shrine nearby, the poor street on
low ground that always flooded, Fushimi's main
temple . . .
wait
. He glanced back sharply to the
left. There were changes he hadn't noticed before.
They had moved the sake brewery. And that old
cable-and-winch system over the moat had been
dismantled. Security was tightening. Did Silver
Wolf expect a siege?

The samurai ahead stopped, moved to one side
and bowed. 'My lord awaits you there, among his
archers.'

Katsu bowed back. When he straightened up
he saw Silver Wolf motioning to him.

He met the warlord where a high parapet flared
out from the castle wall. Along it, samurai archers
were undertaking sunset target practice, their
proud master looking on.

'I know that
detective
face!' Silver Wolf laughed
as Katsu approached. 'Always questions, ever the
probing mind, neh?' He slapped his visitor's back.
'You're wondering what their target is, aren't you?
You're curious if I'm bloodthirsty enough to take
pot shots at my own town.'

'Oh, no, great lord.' Katsu lowered his head
meekly, relying on his skills as a liar. 'Simply
curious,' he chuckled. 'While assuming nothing.'

Katsu studied Silver Wolf's twinkling eyes
and breezy manner. Why was he in such a good
mood? For some reason, Katsu found it just as
disquieting as the warlord's more frequent states:
dark brooding, drunken rage. He wasn't sure why.
Katsu forced a smile.

His news was going to shatter this contented
little atmosphere, that was for sure. He glanced at
the nearest archer, then the others beyond him.
Once he ruined Silver Wolf's tranquil evening,
would they be taking pot shots at
him
?

'Go ahead, push between those two fellows, see
what they shoot at.' The warlord bundled Katsu
to the edge of the parapet. He felt his broad back
muscles stiffen.
A big drop
.
So far down
. Katsu broke
out into a sweat. 'Not
that
close, you'll pitch over,'
Silver Wolf sniggered, dragging him back. Katsu
sighed, steadied himself and looked down.

A rice-straw dummy, in the shape of a slender
man, bobbed in the centre of the moat. It was pincushioned
with arrows. More arrows floated around
it, along with three bloated dead carp the archers
had accidentally killed. Katsu squinted hard. That
dummy rose from a single circular wooden float.
He frowned at the unfamiliar design.

'I didn't have it made,' Silver Wolf smiled, his
eyes bright. 'It was a gift. From our Fuma allies. A
training toy they use, to help shinobi learn to kill
shinobi. On water!'

The warlord took Katsu's wrist and drew him
clear of the archers.

'Show this sticky-eye what you can do!' Silver
Wolf held his head up. 'Begin!'

The archers nocked arrows as one, drew in
perfect synchronisation and fired a tight cluster of
arrows. It hissed high into the air at a sharp angle.
Katsu frowned.

That vector looked all wrong. They'd miss!
Why not shoot directly at the dummy, using line
of sight? He watched the arrows soar until they
became invisible. Katsu blinked, picking them up
again on their way down. Steadily their
hiss
grew
louder.

The arrows fell straight at the dummy. It bucked
as they made impact. Katsu gaped. Unless he was
mistaken, every projectile had found its mark.

Silver Wolf rounded on his hireling. 'Each
unit in my command is receiving special training,
based on Clan Fuma advice. We will be
ready
and
when this is all over, I will be cleaning my claws!'
He held up his hands, fingers curled to represent
talons.

'My lord will prove invincible.' Katsu bowed
low. 'You are the wind of destiny. Japan will be
returned to the Way of the Warrior. I am proud to
serve the future Shogun.'

'Yes, yes, smooth-tongue.' The warlord looked
him up and down, eyes narrowing. 'I know you
are . . . but what brings you back to me now? Your
visit is a day early.'

Katsu quickly scratched his chin so that Silver
Wolf didn't see him swallow. 'I have news, master.'
This was it. He filled his chest, raised his chin
high. Dignity mattered, even if death came soon
after. Katsu spoke slowly, his tone formal. 'I was
contacted on the Tokaido, by an exhausted rider.
As he had already done, he bade me memorise this
despatch to you. It comes from your task force in
the north.'

'Might this be . . . bad news?' The warlord's eyes
glowed as if that idea excited him. Katsu nodded,
trying to glean his master's motive. He felt sweat
run down his back.

Was this an act, a cruel trick or prank that
would soon turn to more honest fury?

Did he
want
to hear of defeat, for some perverse
reason?

Or was he hoping for an excuse to explode with
rage and launch an open war?

Katsu grinned sheepishly. He feared this man
and often wondered if, despite his castle, army
and noble rank, he would live long enough to
seize power. He was too easy to hate. Then Katsu
reminded himself that for all his failings, Silver
Wolf paid well. Better, in fact, than any daimyo he
had previously served. So what if he was slightly
mad? Half his kind were, and at least a third of
them dreamed of becoming a military dictator
amidst showers of each other's blood.

Silver Wolf examined Katsu's face and sighed.
'Speak your news; you
are
safe.'

'Yes, lord. There was a skirmish, fought against
a young male and a young female agent of the
Grey Light Order, identified by Jiro as Moonshadow
and Snowhawk. It took place in a market,
in a town north of Edo. One of our bounty hunters,
my friend, the former sumo wrestler –' Katsu hung
his head – 'was badly injured.'

'How?' The warlord folded his arms. 'A sword
cut? Shuriken?
Witchcraft
?'

'A collision with a stone well, incited by the
youth called Moonshadow.'

'Whose head,' Silver Wolf said with relish, 'will
be on show here one day soon.'

'Both GLO agents escaped, heading north. Your
task force is in pursuit. More may have already happened,
but no further word has reached me as yet.'

'Ah, yes. Heading north, to
that
mountain.
How fitting that once again, so unexpectedly,
blood must be spilled there for my honour to be
satisfied.' The warlord drew a folded paper from
his jacket and held it out to Katsu, who eyed it
uneasily. 'Here, take it. In the light of such an early
loss, I now order you to transmit
this
to our Fuma
friends in the usual way. But with all haste; take a
horse, ride to their inn. I prepared this despatch in
case just such news arrived. It's my personal request
for them to send immediate reinforcements. It's
brief. Go ahead, read it . . .'

Katsu unfolded and read the message. 'My
lord . . . that many? Does not the evidence suggest
that merely
two
hostile agents are on their way to
the White Nun?'

'My good fellow,' Silver Wolf squeezed Katsu's
shoulder with an iron grip. 'I've underestimated
a Grey Light Order brat before. Not again. This
time, we
win
.'

Behind the warlord, his archers launched a
final precision volley. Katsu heard it hiss into the
darkening sky. There was no need to check the
results. He trusted their uncanny accuracy. Right
now, little else in his world deserved trust.

Not his master, nor his master's new allies, the
Fuma.
Never trust a shinobi.

Did this obsessed, ambitious daimyo really
understand what he was starting? Katsu had helped
his master plot and scheme so much that he could
now predict the three steps of Silver Wolf's grand
vision, the last step of which the warlord had only
hinted at.

Strip the Shogun of protection, eyes and ears,
by crushing the Grey Light Order.

Replace the Shogun the traditional way:
defeating, then absorbing his allies.

Finally, with an enormous army, invade the
Korean Peninsula and begin expanding the empire
. . . and go on expanding it, until it covered the
very world.

What an arrogant, frightening dream to possess
one mere man!

Silver Wolf dismissed him with a nod. Katsu
bowed and turned from his employer. Before
leaving the battlements, he glanced one last time
to the hills.

All trace of the sumptuous sunset was gone,
replaced by the dull haze of twilight.

Those escorts had been so right, Katsu mused.
Nothing lasted forever. Especially not peace.

Iron lanterns burned at even intervals along the
dark wooden walls of the old shrine. Shadows
danced across exposed beams on its ceiling.

Its windows were boarded up, the badly worn
matting floor smelled of time.

The building was hundreds of years old and
though it kept out the weather, it was cold and
draughty. How could anyone so old live here
willingly? How did food supplies get up here?
Surely no one from those towns would cross the
haunted forest?

Moonshadow looked up from his bowl of ramen
noodles and stared at the White Nun hunched
opposite him. At his side, Snowhawk ate fast with
an
almost
impolite amount of noise.

Beside the sage sat the Akita Matagi that had
virtually captured them and marched them up
here. Motionless, the dog stared at Moonshadow,
its weird blue eyes boring into him.

Moon looked back to the White Nun. Her
appearance was so distinctive: snow white hair
peeping from the pointy quilted hood she wore,
impossibly pale skin and
red
eyes. It was said that
one of Japan's long-dead emperors had been born
with such rare features and he had proved a good,
wise ruler. Moon had never seen a human being
like the White Nun. Nor one that could – it
appeared – stay linked to an animal indefinitely.
How did she do that? Why did such a prolonged
joining not suck the very life from her?