Flame in the Mist (Flame in the Mist #1)(88)

The ground beneath them grumbled.

Ranmaru looked behind them. “The mountain is talking again.”

“What is it telling us?” Mariko felt the warmth of ōkami’s presence at her back.

The Wolf pointed over her shoulder to the tree line. “That we are out of time.”

When Mariko saw the crests flying above the row of mounted samurai in the distance, she nearly collapsed.

The crest of the Minamoto clan. Alongside the crest of her own family.

At the head of the troop sat her brother.

The Dragon of Kai.

—

He’d begun in the clearing. The fateful clearing where his sight had left him. And all that remained was feeling.

The feeling of being threatened. Of being lied to.

Of being hunted.

Kenshin had lashed out that day. Cut down any and all who strode near. When he’d awoken, he’d found his sword covered in blood. The bodies of the old man and the boy and girl who’d worked alongside him had seared into his vision.

In his dreams, it was the fox that had saved him.

It was the fox that saved him now.

When Kenshin had begun searching through Jukai forest for any signs of the Black Clan, the creature had led him to another watering hole. Where an enormous man—nearly three heads taller than anyone else present—with a broken wrist sat drinking himself into a stupor.

This disgruntled giant had told him to ride toward the mountain. To gather Takeda Ranmaru’s topknot. And bring it back to him so he could collect a bounty from a nearby daimyō. A bounty that would allow him to regain the respect of his men.

Kenshin had been pleased when Raiden had first offered to accompany him. To help rescue his sister. The feral creature Kenshin had seen that night through the flames around the granary was not Mariko. She’d been crazed. Savage. So unlike the gentle scholar Kenshin had always known.

It must have been these men—these bloodthirsty mercenaries of the Black Clan—who had turned her into such an unimaginable version of herself. Who had made her descend to her baser instincts in order to survive.

Kenshin would destroy each of these men—tear them limb from limb—for what they had done to his sister. For what they had done to Amaya.

But all was not lost.

Mariko had warned him. Indeed that message could have come from none other than his sister. She’d told the blind man to seek Kenshin out. To save the granary.

Just as he intended to save Mariko today.

He would root out this evil from Jukai forest, once and for all. With the emperor’s son and his sister’s betrothed at his side. With the might of the empire at his side.

Hattori Kenshin would right the wrongs of this forest.

And learn exactly what its trees had to hide.

—

The mountain grumbled once more, this time even louder. As though it were warning everyone present that the sun was on the cusp of disappearing. That all light was about to be lost. Mariko grabbed her katana and searched for ōkami. The Wolf had moved to direct other members of the Black Clan into the trees, as they’d decided early on.

What they lacked in numbers they planned to make up for in higher ground. Mariko was supposed to have climbed into her post immediately. But she’d stopped to help Ren. Her erstwhile tormenter still had not gathered enough provisions or adequate weapons for the pending siege.

And now they were out of time. Not all of them would make it to their assigned posts. Not all of them would be able to fend off the attack.

When the arrows started to rain down through the trees, Mariko knew they’d also lost the option to flee. Her eyes flitted across the rapidly darkening underbrush, searching for something, unable to find—

“Follow me.” ōkami moved alongside her, sure-footed, even through the rising gloom. He hoisted Mariko into a tree before climbing into position at her side.

“Anate!”

The call for another volley of arrows echoed from the woods beyond.

ōkami grabbed the wooden shield and yanked Mariko against his chest. The solid beat of his heart thudded in her ear as arrows pounded into the shield and struck the branches around them.

The thunder of hooves followed soon after the last arrow volley. When the mounted samurai came into range, the Black Clan began firing back.

Mariko reached into her pouch of throwing stars. And took a deep breath.

ōkami ripped an arrow from the tree trunk before firing it into the first wave of charging cavalry. “Fight back, Hattori Mariko. I know he’s your brother. But his men are not making the distinction. And neither should you.”

“I know.” She gritted her teeth.

“The only power any man has over you is the power you give him.” ōkami fired another shot, and a soldier tumbled from his horse below.

At that, Mariko rolled her shoulders, took aim with her throwing star, and hurled it into the darkness.

She’d managed to injure three samurai and take down another warrior from his steed before she noticed something. Mariko could not see her brother anywhere. If she knew Hattori Kenshin at all, she knew her brother would be at the vanguard of any fight.

Something was wrong.

Mariko looked past the trees. And saw torches in the distance.

But they were not normal torches.

They were immense. Rounds of fire bigger than Yoshi’s iron cauldron.

“We have to get down.” She gasped. “Tell all the men to climb down from the trees at once.”