Flame in the Mist (Flame in the Mist #1)(54)

No. Mariko could never allow the two to cross paths.

As her panic continued to rise, the taller of Kenshin’s companions lowered the hood of his cloak. Even from her perch along the roofline, Mariko saw the silver crest stamped into the hood’s silken inlay.

A trio of gentian flowers and a sprig of bamboo leaves.

The crest of the Minamoto clan.

Her terror spiked in a white-hot flash. In an uncontrollable plume.

She’d never seen Minamoto Raiden before. But she knew from past accounts that he was tall. A gifted member of the yabusame. Chiyo had all but swooned when Mariko’s betrothal had been made official.

Even without proof, Mariko could easily surmise that her brother’s taller, broader companion was likely her betrothed. Which meant that . . .

The slighter companion. The reedier boy still cloaked and shielded by imperial guards.

Mariko’s body went numb, as though a wintry gale had blown across the rooftop.

The crown prince of Wa.

Takeda Ranmaru had been exiled by Minamoto Masaru. Though Ranmaru had not specifically said the emperor’s name that night by the jubokko, Mariko was not a fool. ōkami and Ranmaru believed their fathers had been betrayed and murdered by the emperor.

Nothing good could come of their sons meeting by chance in a teahouse deep within Hanami on a dark summer night.

Consumed with worry, Mariko watched from her perch as Kenshin rinsed his hands in the same basin she’d used a few hours ago. Watched as he waited to enter the same teahouse. It was now impossible to return to her place in the main room. If Kenshin saw her, he would recognize her before she could swallow her next breath.

Panic took hold when Mariko realized that ōkami was doubling back toward the teahouse, with Yumi at his side. Which meant his path would soon cross that of her brother. If ōkami returned and discovered Mariko missing, he would undoubtedly ask Ranmaru where she had gone. The two would begin making inquiries. They would learn she had not simply disappeared to relieve herself.

And her brother would hear everything.

Without knowing exactly what information Kenshin already possessed, it was leaving too much to chance.

Mariko had to get the Black Clan to leave the teahouse with her in tow. Before Kenshin caught wind of anything that might be afoot. Because if the Dragon of Kai was here to find her, he would find her. Her brother would not give up until he did.

And she could not allow that to happen.

Not yet.

The way she saw it, Mariko had two immediate options:

She could either attempt to distract her brother by creating a commotion in his vicinity—perhaps by flinging the single throwing star she’d pilfered from Haruki—or she could create a diversion around ōkami, away from the main tearoom. The kind of diversion that would grant them a chance to summon Ranmaru to their side, so they could all escape without being seen.

When faced with the decision to possibly threaten her brother—and coincidentally the crown prince of Wa—or ōkami, Mariko’s choice was easy. She grabbed the chain of an unlit copper lantern behind her. Hauled it onto the roof. Took careful aim.

As soon as ōkami came within range, Mariko swung the lantern into his path, intent on catching him off guard. She hoped that—with the sliver of time this small distraction bought her—she would have a moment to clamber off the rooftop unnoticed and quietly inform ōkami of the teahouse’s most recent arrivals.

She could, of course, simply say something. Simply shout down at him from her perch. But if Mariko could help it, she did not wish for ōkami to know she’d been spying on him. And she could not risk Kenshin hearing her. Or worse, seeing her.

So she was left with nothing but a lantern.

Unfortunately Mariko miscalculated two things when she boldly swung the lantern at the Wolf:

The surprising weight of metal suspended from a chain.

And the quickness of the Wolf’s reflexes.

As soon as he heard the grate of swinging metal from above, ōkami shoved Yumi away and looked up in the same motion.

The maiko screamed as the rogue lantern struck the Wolf hard in the face, causing him to topple over the railing into the burbling brook. Orange-and-white koi darted in every direction as the splash resounded through the courtyard, drawing the attention of everyone within earshot.

Mariko blinked, her eyes and mouth forming perfect ovals. ōkami swiped the hair from his face and immediately leveled a look of pure hatred up at her.

As though he’d known where she was all along.

That did not exactly go as planned.

Yumi stared down at ōkami’s drenched body, one hand covering her perfectly painted lips.

At the gate’s entrance, Mariko’s brother stepped from beneath the overhang outside the teahouse’s sliding doors, drawn by Yumi’s bell-like scream and the sound of splashing water. Minamoto Raiden wandered from the shadows, following in Kenshin’s footsteps.

Mariko ducked lower, hiding herself from any eyes that might think to drift upward.

Hoping ōkami would not draw attention to her.

Praying for a miracle.

When the Wolf stood suddenly—recrimination in his dark eyes, water sloshing from his fine clothes—Mariko cut him off with a sharp look, before he could begin yelling. Then she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, as though that offered a sufficient explanation. As though it offered her a valid reason to swing a metal box at his head. ōkami peered over the connecting walkway leading toward the main tearoom, toward the row of richly clad figures now proceeding in their direction. Though his fury remained intact, he narrowed his eyes. In less than an instant, understanding settled across his features.