Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I closed my eyes and shuddered.
Tora. . .
It is done. She is safe.
I opened my eyes.
WAR!
Yes, Goryū.
Yoichi went over to the twins and said something to them, but this sound arrived before the plane did, and I could not focus on their exchange.
The sound was a low drone that started at the edge of hearing and grew, thickening the air, pressing down through the canopy until the leaves shook and the ground answered it.
The trees trembled.
Loose dirt lifted off the path in thin brown clouds.
The drone became a roar that sat on my chest and would not move.
I looked up.
Akiro’s plane cleared the tree line. It was enormous. The belly of it passed so low that the wind of its engines flattened the brush around us, tore leaves from the branches, and sent them spinning in tight vicious circles.
The landing lights swept the forest floor like two cold white eyes dragging across everything they touched.
The roar of it filled every space in my skull and left no room for thought.
Every man around me went still.
Even Hiro did not move.
I turned to Goryū. Tell me who is in there.
He was already moving.
Goryū uncoiled from the dark above us in one fluid motion. Black smoke poured off his body as his wings spread wide, and he rose toward the plane without sound.
He climbed fast, faster than anything with that much size had a right to move, and then his body folded and he drove himself straight up through the belly of the plane and disappeared inside it.
I watched the sky.
Reo watched me watching the sky.
Ten seconds passed.
Fifteen.
The plane continued its descent toward the landing zone near us, engines grinding, landing lights cutting through the dark below it.
Then Goryū dropped out of the far side of the plane's hull like smoke pushed through a crack. His body reassembled itself in the dark above the tree line, wings spreading to slow his descent, and he curved back toward us in a long silent arc.
When Goryū settled above the tree line, his gold eyes found mine. I could not harm the plane, but Akiro is inside, and our father.
My jaw tightened.
Our father. . .is pale and thin. The tubes are gone. He sits in the back behind Akiro's chair with two guns. He is afraid.
Good. He should be afraid.
There are ten others around him. Special.
Assassins?
Yes.
Goryū's great head turned slowly as he tracked the plane's descent. There are hundreds of men inside with pretty guns.
Pretty?
Diamonds and flowers on them.
The Butcher’s weapons.
The plane is full. Packed tight. Many pressed against the walls.
I looked at Reo. “Akiro, my father, ten assassins, and hundreds of men with the Butcher’s weapons are on the plane.”
Reo looked at me and blinked. “Goryū told you that?”
“Yes.”
“Well. . .okay then.” Reo lifted his head and yelled to the Scales near the tree line, “Call back our people! Plan B is in effect!”
Scales rushed off to give the order.
“Let them think we are terrified!” Reo headed off and we all followed him. “Everyone else hide! We will not go to them until they’re off the plane!”
Hiro got to my side.
I glanced at him. “The war ends tonight.”
Hiro looked down at something invisible on the ground, frowned, and then picked up his pace. “It does.”
Goryū.
Yes.
Get ready to weaken Akiro’s men.
Yes.
Chapter fourteen
The Pink Onesie
Hiro
The gold lollipop tasted like honeyed yuzu and white peach. It was a summer garden in my mouth.
Bright.
Clean.
Offensively pleasant for a forest about to fill with corpses.
Damn them.
I rolled the candy across my tongue and hated every second of the expensively delicious experience.
The Silent Ones gave it to me. After they put me to sleep like a child being carried to bed. After they stopped me from getting to my Tiger. After they used their soft little "shhh" sounds.
Then one of them slipped this lollipop into my hand as an apology. I refused to acknowledge the apology. But I kept the lollipop.
Behind me, several feet back in the dark between the trunks, those red figures waited for their entrance into the war.
Hooded.
Soundless.
Patient as funeral mourners.
I felt them there without turning my head. My spine knew exactly where they stood. I stayed mad at them, yet was still glad that they were here. Granted, I would never say that out loud.
Around me, the tree line breathed.
Kaede had his Tengu mask on. Gold leaf at the beak edge flashed when he turned his head a fraction of an inch. His leather gloves were tight to his fingers, and his platinum hair was tied at the nape under the mask's strap.
Daisuke wore his Yamauba. The mouth slit caught the moonlight in a thin silver line. His black mohawk rose stiff behind the mask.
Toma had his Namahage mask pulled over his face. The carved eyes angled downward, so when he tilted his head my way, the ogre stared straight into the dirt at my boots. His purple mohawk poked up between the mask's horns. Tattoos crawled up his throat into the mask's chin guard.