The Keeper of Night (The Keeper of Night #1)(73)

His name was Hiro.

I shot Hiro a flat glare. “That is not what the story says.”

“No,” he said, grinning, “but it’s true, isn’t it?”

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“You don’t think it’s true? I’m hurt.”

“You’re being evasive.”

“Is it working?”

I sighed, turning back to the paper. “I can read this line,” I said. “It says, ‘Hiro was beaten to death by his companion for his arrogance and for wasting her time. The end.’”

Hiro nodded in approval. “Yes, he probably deserved that ending.”

“If only he hadn’t been so impertinent and had simply told her what was happening, maybe he wouldn’t have died.”

“Perhaps,” he said, shrugging, “but we’ll never know what might have been.”

“Hiro,” I said, frowning, “why won’t you tell me about Tamamo No Mae? You didn’t act this way with the other Yokai.”

“Because she’s not like them,” Hiro said, gaze falling to the story that I couldn’t read. “Other Yokai are perpetual, but Tamamo No Mae changes. Hakutaku’s book is helpful up to a certain point, but it is very old, and the Tamamo No Mae we will find is very new.”

He glanced at me, as if gauging my reaction, then looked back at the table. “There are rumors about what she’s like now, but I want to confirm them with the Shinigami in Yahiko before I tell you. The things I’ve heard are...unpleasant.”

“I also find it rather unpleasant to walk into the den of a dangerous Yokai unprepared,” I said.

Hiro shook his head. “You don’t need to storm the village with a knife in each hand. She’s not going to hurt us unless we get in her way. There will be time to plan, Ren, I promise.”

Something in my expression must have distressed him, because he set his hand on top of mine and leaned across the table.

“I promise,” he said. “I told you when we first met in Yomi that I wouldn’t lead you astray, and I haven’t forgotten that. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

His eyes had a strangely dark intensity, and there was a bitterness to his words, like the thought of me being hurt actually angered him. His hand squeezed mine hard enough to bruise a human, but for me it only registered as a dull ache.

“Please, trust me,” he said.

I swallowed, staring back at maybe-Hiro. He was withholding more information than I was comfortable with, but he had also saved both my life and my brother’s, and that warranted a certain degree of trust. Perhaps his real name was inconsequential when it was so easy to see what was in his heart. After all, I too had more than one name.

“Fine,” I said. “But you will tell me everything tonight.”

Hiro nodded. “I will,” he said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “But soon, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

Yahiko turned out to be a small village tucked away at the foot of a mountain, sitting low on fertile plains and shielded from the East Sea by smooth green-and-white slopes. We crossed the endless stretch of rice and edamame fields between the train station and village as the sun drew low on the horizon.

As soon as I set foot on the fields, my footsteps scorched the surrounding crops into parched gray. It seemed my shoes were no longer enough of a barrier from the Death that seeped from my skin. Hiro coaxed me into letting him carry me on his back until we cleared the fields, and while I hated feeling so helpless, it was better than destroying a town’s harvest and announcing our arrival with a trail of Death behind us. Hiro carried me like I weighed nothing at all, his hands warm and gentle under my knees. I passed the time by counting the beats of his heart against mine. The touch felt bizarrely normal, as if we were humans who held each other because we wanted to and not because we were trying to outrun Death.

Neven could finally walk without my help, though he occasionally lurched as if he was still halfway dreaming. The wound on his neck had scarred to smooth white, blending back into his skin by the hour. I kept a close eye on him, partially in case he fell over, and partially because we now had only one clock between us.

We’d scoured the rocks for my clock by morning, but it had fallen so deeply into a crevice that none of us could see it or move the heavy rocks aside. Judging by the rate my curse was worsening, we didn’t have time to forge me a new one. Fine silver and gold were harder to come by in rural Japan than in London. Hunting down the materials and testing their quality would have been a fourth mission in and of itself. It was best to simply share with Neven, since we had only one Yokai left, and forge a new clock after Izanami hopefully resolved whatever was wrong with me.

“This is a sacred place,” Hiro said as we drew closer, the ground sloping downward and mountains growing grander as the land peeled back to reveal them. “The great grandson of Amaterasu lived here.”

“Amaterasu?” Neven said, stumbling slightly as the ground grew uneven.

“The goddess of the sun and the universe,” I said. “One of Izanami’s children.”

“Izanami can have children?” Neven said.

I waited for Hiro to explain, as he could probably answer Neven’s questions better than me, but he was staring at the distant village as if we didn’t exist. Whatever horrors Tamamo No Mae had in store for us certainly troubled him.