Smoke in the Sun (Flame in the Mist #2)(8)

When Raiden replied, it was with great care. “Perhaps you are right, my sovereign. No one can deny that the Takeda family has been a problem, ever since Lord Shingen questioned our father’s designs for the empire.” He inhaled through his nostrils. “But perhaps if we learn to control his son—or even sway him to our side—it could be possible to do what our father failed to do, and unite our land.”

Roku considered his brother as though he were considering a foolish child. One for whom he held fond feelings. “Unite our land?” His features hardened for an instant, a caustic laugh bursting from his lips. “I know where my strengths lie. Do you?”

“My strengths are in serving and protecting my sovereign.” A cold light sparked in Raiden’s eyes. “And enacting vengeance on those who seek to destroy us.”

“If you wish to protect me, brother, you must learn how to exert control over those around you.” Roku took an apprising breath. “Vengeance will come in time. Control is what I seek. Fear will be my weapon.”

Understanding settled onto Raiden’s face. “You wish to control Takeda Ranmaru through fear.”

Roku nodded. “First we must give him reason to fear—not about something as simple as death. Something deeper. And that task begins with the mind. If I wish for the people of Wa to respect me without question, this must be my course of action.”

Raiden paused in thought. “You are concerned your people will not respect you? They will, because you are their heavenly sovereign. It is their duty and your right.”

“No, brother.” Roku shook his head. “Respect is not a thing granted. It is a thing earned.” With that, he quickened his stride over the last few stone steps and glided to a halt. Allowing time for his eyes to adjust, he began murmuring to a wall of darkness before him.

Like a ghost, a man emerged from the reaches beyond. Between his skeletal hands rested a small wooden trunk, bound in bars of dull iron. At first glance, the iron seemed to be marred by rust, but the hint of something far more sinister pervaded the air, like the scent of copper left too long in the rain. The man bowed, his cowl falling lower across a forehead peppered with burn marks. Without a word, Roku motioned for the hooded man to follow him.

Raiden lingered, his features caught in turmoil. He glanced about at the darkness before him, then turned toward the remaining light at his back, his gaze catching on signs of motion near the top of the stairs.

The flowing figure of his mother passed beneath a haze of torch fire. She stopped when she saw him, her head tilted to one side, her unbound hair an inky waterfall over one shoulder. Without a word, she bent the wisps of smoke from the nearby torch between her palms, rolling her fingers in a slow circle. Shapes began to form at her command. They solidified in the firelight and came to life as she blew a soft stream of air their way, sending them wafting toward her son.

A wily vermin being crushed beneath the hooves of a massive ox.

Raiden frowned at his mother. When he was younger, his mother’s magic had entranced him. With it, she’d brought stories to life in ways other boys could only dream of. Her magic had granted him solace from the judgment of others at court. It had been a reason for the nobles to show him a measure of respect, despite the circumstances of his birth.

This fear of his mother’s magic had been a form of control, for magic was a rarity. And magic like that of his mother? Rarer still. Granted once in a generation, by the spirits of a world lost for countless lifetimes.

It was a magic he did not possess. A magic Raiden had once tried to understand, only to discover he never could, for he was not meant to wield it.

He had not been blessed with talent.

Irritation passed across his features. He’d been right to rebuff his mother’s counsel. After only a moment of hesitation, Raiden followed in his emperor’s footsteps, his back turned from the magic that had saved him as a child.

Kanako watched her only son disappear into the darkness below. A deep pang unfurled behind her heart. It writhed through her chest and nestled in her stomach, a slithering eel lurking in the reeds, ever present.

She’d known her warrior son would not falter in his allegiance to his sovereign, but she had tested him anyway. Just to see how he would respond. To see if he might change his mind. Raiden was at that particular stage in life in which he wished for all, thought he knew all, and expected to live forever. On occasion, it prompted unforeseen outcomes.

But time had taught Kanako that what was expected rarely came to pass. Death always collected its due. The only thing that remained steadfastly true was power. The power you had. The power you gave.

The power you concealed.

Raiden’s loyalty to his younger brother ran as the river Kamo through the center of the imperial city, cutting the land in two. Perhaps Kanako and her son would stand on opposing banks from time to time, but when the plans she had carefully been laying for years finally came to pass, he would be standing beside her, without question.

It was true Raiden loved his brother with an admirable kind of ferocity. But Kanako was his mother, and she had lost much to give him all. Taken much from many, even their very minds and thoughts and hearts.

She would not see him waste it, especially not on a sniveling rat dressed in yellow silk.

With a sigh, Kanako turned in a circle, the edges of her kimono taking to the air, swallowing her like withering petals until she vanished, leaving behind nothing but a trace of her perfume.