The Darkness That Hunts
Chapter 29

The air smells crisp andclean, like how it gets right at the end of summer just before the temperaturedrops with autumn’s arrival. A pristine garden unfurls around me, a monument toaesthetic perfection. Everything has its place. A narrow brook winds through arock garden raked in geometric circles around stubby azalea shrubs. An elegantwooden bridge arcs over the rushing brook and transforms into a flagstone pathwaythat meanders through neatly trimmed hedges and up to a cozy single-storyhouse.

Idyllic.

Too idyllic.

I move--or try to, but I’mstuck. I glance down to replace my body partially submerged in the trunk of atree. What in the world? I strain,trying to free my foot. It feels like it’s attached by sticky sap but at lastthe resistance gives way. I pry myself from the trunk and gaze down at mybizarre body. I’m part plant. A carapace of bark crisscrosses my torso,shoulders, and thighs. My feet remain bare, though vines lace up my ankles andcalves while others tangle around my wrists like organic bracelets.

I turn from the house towardsa cultivated grove of Japanese cherry trees. Their blossoms are startlinglypink against a deep azure sky. A breeze makes the branches shiver and fresh petalsfall like fuchsia raindrops. Voices, one male, one female, echo between the swayingbranches.

I replace Kamiron leaningagainst a massive tree. Dressed in a yukataof muted color and design with a pale gray obiabout his waist. His head is tilted back and he gazes at a low branch thatdangles just within arm’s reach.

“This feels like a dream,doesn’t it?” he whispers.

“But it isn’t. I’m so gladI’ve gotten the chance to meet your family and surprise them with ourengagement.”

My heart plummets. Sandra.Of course Apaosha would don her form to poison Kamiron. I creep closer and replaceher snuggled against Kam’s side. She wears an elegant yukata that looks as if it was designed for a princess; splashes ofgiant black fans and pink flowers break up the rice-paper white fabric, and anelaborate obi of the palest goldcinches her tiny waist. Her hair, expertly piled atop her head, is laden with astring of pearls woven around fragrant azaleas. Loose strawberry-gold strandsshift like streamers in the gentle breezes.

So this is how Kam viewsher? Damn. She truly is like agoddess. I retreat inward, seeking out Gaian. What should I do?

Gaian shifts just above myleft temple. His presence feels like a meadow in summer. Vayu has always feltlike an autumn zephyr. You first mustmake him see and hear you.

Sunlight sparks off the goldband of Sandra’s modest engagement ring as I step into view. Neither takes noteof me. Yeah, that’ll be a cakewalk.

They kiss on a blanket, thepicture-perfect scene of lovers picnicking under the cherry trees on a lazyafternoon. I make it up to Kamiron’s sandaled feet before Sandra spots me. Hertoo-large, blue and green eyes rake over me but unlike in life, I sense nomalice from her, just a mild distaste.

“Who are you?”

I ignore her and theinexplicable envy of seeing Kam’s lips on her neck. “Kamiron, we need to go.”

Startled, he pulls away fromSandra. “Do I know you?” He stares at me for a long moment but like with Sandra,there is no recognition. “And why are you dressed like a sakura?”

My hand flies up to mycoarse hair. It is made of cherry blossoms and branches. A few petals driftpast my shoulders, skim my elbows and waft away towards the house. My bare feetdig into the soft soil and I take a deep breath to focus. “Nevermind that. Weneed to go.”

Kamiron rises and helpsSandra to her feet. Their fingers intertwine and they put their backs to me.Kamiron doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder when he speaks. “I’m sorry butI don’t know you, and this is private property. You should leave now.”

Cheeks flaming, I watch as thecouple stroll down the path towards the house. I have been dismissed--politely,I’ll admit--but dismissed nonetheless. Gaian,I don’t know--

Get his attention in any way you can,he repeats.

I have to jog to catch up tothem, but when I do, I grab Kamiron’s wide sleeve and tug, forcing him to stop.“You do know me.”

This isn’t real, Shari, I coax myself. I step closeto Kamiron so that I can feel the outline of his muscles against my skin. Myhand circles his neck, guiding his face towards mine. Here goes nothing.

I kiss him.

Kamiron’s lips are as decadentas I’ve always imagined they’d be, but the kiss is brief and clumsy. I’ve neverkissed a boy, after all. “You know me,” I whisper against his ear. The heat ofhis skin radiates against my cheek. “You know me so well you chose to beimprisoned with me. I could have turned into a werewolf at any time and killedyou, but you refused to leave me.”

Kamiron jerks away and aftera moment where my spirit feels as if it will shatter, recognition lights deepin his gray eyes. “Shari.”

Sandra shoves me away and Istumble back a couple feet. “Exactly whatare you doing to my fiancé?”

My heart is still sputteringfrom the kiss and takes a moment to right itself. For a moment I sensed thetrue Kamiron, buried deep in this dreamscape. This is his manifestation of alife he’d always hoped to have. Returning to Japan with his fiancée andintroducing her to his mother’s side of the family . . . that’s how Apaosha isgaining access to Kamiron’s soul.

I meet Sandra’s demandingglare. Fierce gusts of wind blow her impossibly long hair around her impossiblyperfect face and I grit my teeth. It’s time to destroy this delusion. I beatthe Steel Fang once, I can do it again.

“Kamiron!” a woman callsfrom the vicinity of the house. “Come inside! It’s going to storm!”

Sure enough, clouds rollacross the once pristine sky and moisture and ozone infiltrate the air. Thecherry blossoms boil around us as the wind picks up. Kamiron takes Sandra’shand and I follow them onto the back porch where they slip off their getas and step into slippers beforeentering the house.

The furniture inside issparse, wooden, and low to the ground. The bamboo floors give the space alight, airy feel that is compounded by the lack of clutter. Like the outsidegarden, everything has its precise spot and is arranged to elegant perfection.Silk scrolls with stark characters printed on them dangle from neutral tonedwalls. The stalk of an iris mimics the delicate curve of its alcove.

We pass from the main livingroom into the dining room where I replace several pillows arranged around a cedartable so low it only comes to my knee. Grey tatami mats with black borders linethe floor and give the space a traditional air. Skylights in the ceiling spreadmuted light across the feast arranged artfully across the table on neat squareplates. I replace rice balls, sushi with pink tuna, earthen bowls of soup withsquare tofu floating inside. It’s an impressive spread, a culinary masterpieceas much a feast for the eyes as it is for the stomach.

Do not be deceived, Shari, Gaian hisses and in thenext blink, I see the meal for what it really is.

Maggots rolled into balls,scorpions draped atop mounds of packed dirt. A giant cockroach climbs out ofthe earthen bowls of millipedes and beetles. I clutch my stomach and look awayas Sandra and Kamiron eagerly sit on the pillows by the table.

“Sandra-chan, is green tea all. . .” a small, regal Japanese woman pauses in the doorway. Black hair, securedby a jade pin, sweeps back from her round face. Dark eyes, the same almondshape as Kamiron’s but with lines of age creasing their edges, lands on me withunbridled disbelief. Her skin, pale like milk tinged with honey, blushesprettily.

Gaian gives me a mentalnudge and the façade falls from Kamiron’s mother like glass shards. Dry, pallidskin clings to a narrow skull. Where before I’d seen shiny hair black as araven’s wing now becomes a succession of moths that crawl around a bald head. Whiteeyes, clouded with death, peer at me in sinister calculation.

Apaosha.

“I’m sure tea will be fine, ’kaasan.” Kamiron hustles up to hismother and takes the wooden tea tray from her bony hands. He plants a kiss onher temple and does not seem aware of the moth that crawls into his mouth.

“Who is this?” I feel heranger though her tone is mild.

“A friend. Shari.”

“Isn’t it rude of you toinvite another woman to our privatecelebration of your engagement? Did you even think of how that would makeSandra feel?”

A blush creeps overKamiron’s cheeks. Sandra looks smug.

“She was just . . .leaving.”

His mother inclines herhead. A moth drops to her shoulder. “That’s better.”

You cannot leave. If you step outside this house, Apaosha willdestroy you, Gaian warns. Above us, rain darkens theskylights as it pelts the roof. I glance out the windows and watch balls ofhail bounce off the porch.

“This looks like a wonderfuldinner. Your mother is a fantastic cook.” The lie passes easily enough.

“She’s always loved cooking.”Kamiron beams with pride. “Look, it’s really coming down outside. Maybe youshould wait out the storm, and have dinner with--”

“Kamiron!” Despite his mother’s soft voice, I detect Apaosha’s furybehind the words. It echoes like a deep, heavy drum. The lights flicker and ajagged crack scratches down the wall to our left. Only I seem to notice it. “Iwill not have you embarrassing this family. I send you to America and you seefit to associate with any common . . .” her expression turns scornful as shetakes in my trendy plant-chic attire, “riffraff?”

Apaosha sits at the head ofthe table and folds his legs under himself. The mask is once again firmly inplace but the Japanese woman’s dark eyes cannot hide what’s there. I feelApaosha’s baleful force stabbing at me, seeking weaknesses, hunting for a wayinside. It makes me as sick as the stagnant water masquerading as tea. Sandrapours the congealed grey sludge, full of trapped flies, into a delicate ceramiccup. My stomach roils as it slops inside. The gossamer wings of a fly twitches.Its thin legs thrash with its effort to free itself from the cup.

“’Kaasan.” For a briefmoment, indignation flares across Kamiron’s features. “Now who’s being rude?”

Sandra catches Apaosha’s eyeand something passes between the two of them. Sandra then touches Kamiron’ssleeve and passes him the fly-tea. Kamiron takes an absentminded sip before Ithink to stop him. Flies bump against his teeth; riding an errant drop ofsludge, one fly escapes and crawls across the corner of Kamiron’s mouth beforehis tongue darts out, catching it and dragging between his lips. Sandra kisseshis cheek.

“It’s alright, babe. If sheis a friend of yours, then she is a friend of mine, and I’d be honored if shejoined us,” Sandra replies, all sweetness and light. Kamiron melts for her, butit’s all I can do not to wrinkle my nose.

Apaosha and Sandra are up tosomething, but what?

Kamiron’s mother grants me ashallow bow. “Forgive me, Shari-san.” She motions towards the feast. “I haveshamed myself. Please join us for dinner.”

A pressure that burns myneck latches hold of me and drags me to the table before I can protest. It shovesme down opposite Kamiron and Sandra and within arm’s reach of Apaosha. A platefilled with food that should be considered art materializes before me. It looksnormal--delicious, even--but I know the truth.

“Let’s eat,” Kamiron announcesand digs in with lacquered wooden chopsticks. His mother does not eat. Neitherdoes Sandra. Both of them stare at me.

Against my will, my handcurls around my own chopsticks and dives for a piece of sushi.

Gaian and I realize theirplan a half-second too late.

Do not eat his food! He will gain access to you!Gaian’s shout is like an earthquake between my temples.

Don’t you think I’m trying? Panic makes me grimace.Apaosha’s matronly glamour wavers and cloudy eyes widen in unbridled glee. Ifight against the force dragging a scorpion towards my mouth. Its black stinger,swollen with venom, lashes at the air.

Don't eat it!

I ignore Gaian’s growl andfocus all my will on combating the pressure guiding my hand. I think of CampGenki. Of how Sandra tried to invade my mind using a psychic attack. Vayuinterceding, ordering me to push her out. My wrist shakes. My fingers grownumb. Sandra laughs at something Kamiron says. Apaosha’s eyes narrow and thepressure doubles. I feel the displacement of air against my lips as thescorpion wiggles closer. I try to push him out, but the demon is too strong andI’m drowning in his malice.

“I’d like to go now!” I shriek.The force shatters and I fling the chopsticks and scorpion away from me.Kamiron stares at me in disbelief that quickly morphs into affronted anger.

“I’ll see you out,” Apaosha offers,pleased.

I rise and blink back thetears that sting my eyes. I’ve failed Kam. Foolish of me to believe I couldmake a difference.

Do not give up, Shari, Gaian soothes and it feelslike fronds of soft petals nuzzling my cheek. You cannot confront Apaosha directly. He wields too much power here andKamichirō will never side with you against what appears to be his motherand his beloved. But you are just as cunning. You have a way to make himremember who he is.

Something about what Gaiansays strikes a chord with me but just as the solution is about to presentitself, my neck prickles with danger. Apaosha is a few inches from touching me.I skitter away and into a Western-style living room complete with oversizedleather furniture, a flat screen television, and a glass coffee table. I don’tremember the living room looking this way, but I’m grateful that I can use thecouch as a feeble barrier between myself and Apaosha.

“Don’t touch me, demon.”

Apaosha laughs. The costumeof a Japanese woman remains intact but her voice is no longer soft andcultured.

“He is mine, Child of Air,”Apaosha brags. His voice hurts my ears--like subsonic music. “And when I returnto the physical plane, I will devour all your friends like I’m about to devouryou. Shall we go outside now?”

The front door clatters openand rain, hail, and biting wind rush into the room, snatching the silk scrollsfrom the wall. The last piece falls into place and I know how to make Kamironremember himself.

“Kam, I just realizedsomething!”

Apaosha frowns and in arustle of cloth and slippered feet as Kamiron pads into the living room.Finding the front door open, he closes it. I park myself on the leather sofaand cross my legs, ignoring the chafe of the bark covering my thighs.

Can you do it? I ask Gaian and show him my plan. He smilesand it feels like replaceing an oasis in the middle of an arid desert.

I have that much power left, at least.

“You promised you’d makesomething for me.”

“I . . . did?” His browsfurrow. Purple-black bruises stain his eyesockets and make him look like littlemore than a skeleton. His golden skin looks so translucent that I can even seethe outline of blue veins and bone. I have to hurry.

Pretending he doesn’t looklike a corpse, I force myself to smile. To keep his attention. That’s right,Kam. Keep looking at me. Try to remember. “It’s a simple thing. We werespeaking of calligraphy and you said you’d make a scroll with a character--um .. .”

Kanji, Gaian supplies.

“Using kanji,” I explain,struggling only a bit with the unfamiliar pronunciation. “Just a couple since Ifound them so beautiful.”

Kamiron’s eyes don’t leavemine and it breaks my heart to see how pale and watery they’ve become. Hestruggles to recall what I’m talking about though I’ve only recently made it up.

Trust me, Kam, please--for both our sakes.

He sniffs. “I . . . remember,I think.” He wipes at his nose, and doesn’t seem to notice the smear of bloodthat now stains the back of his index finger. “I can do that, but--”

“But we don’t have ink, I’mafraid,” Apaosha cuts in. His attention jumps from me to Kamiron.

Sandra hurries from thedining room and hooks her arm around Kamiron’s. “Looks like the storm’s finallylet up. Shari should probably get going now before it returns. Right, babe?”

Of course the storm’s letup. I glance out the window to replace sunlight sparking off wet grass and rock.How convenient.

Still, I don’t stand.Instead I gesture towards the glass coffee table at a pot of ink and a smallivory sheet of rice paper. Resting across the paper is a beautiful calligraphybrush of elegant bamboo and expensive horsehair bristles that taper to adelicate point.

Go Gaian.

Apaosha and Sandra bothhiss. The air thickens and the sudden heat of Apaosha’s anger makes me sweat. Isense the demon’s uncertainty. He knows I am up to something. I need to keephim guessing just a little longer.

Coughing, Kamiron kneels atthe table and takes up the calligraphy brush. He flexes his wrist. “What wouldyou like?”

“Oh, nothing elaborate.” Ittakes work to keep my tone light and casual. To bury my apprehension deep.Almost there, Shari. “You mentioned that the kanji for ‘beauty or ‘love’ ispopular. How about something like that?”

Apaosha relaxes and the heatprickling the back of my neck abates. Kamiron coughs again and his chin dips ina brief nod. I lean close and force myself to ignore the blood staining thecorners of his mouth. Instead I watch as he dips the brush’s stiff bristlesinto the impossibly black ink and prepares to write the character for ‘love.’

“Actually, I’ve changed mymind,” I whisper, low enough that only he can hear me. “Write your nameinstead. Your real name--Kamichirō.”

He hesitates and my heart sinks.If he doesn’t write it, if he questions why the sudden change, why the name hedislikes then Apaosha will figure it out. The demon will win and Kamiron willbe lost.

The ink-laden brush glidesacross the rice paper as Kamiron begins the assorted strokes. His arm movesexpertly, his wrist curving left and right as if he is guiding a beautiful danceracross a ballroom floor. The edges of the pictographs shimmer emerald as they emergeand I wish I understood what they meant.

See what I see, Gaian offers and a veil lifts from myconsciousness.

Spirit.

Earth.

Son.

Earth spirit’s son.

Oh my God.

Tears spring into my eyes atthe beauty and power of Kamiron’s true name. His eyes widen and he gazes up atme with wonder, then recognition, and finally alarm. He clamors to his feet,staring around and seeing things as they are for the first time.

At last it registers toApaosha that I have outmaneuvered him and he stares at me with pure vitriol. AtKamiron’s side, Sandra mutates into a hoary garden snake that slithers up thewide sleeves of Apaosha’s yukata. The glamour of an orderly Japanese homedeteriorates into a featureless beige-gray desert. Where once stood animmaculate garden of cherry trees and fragrant foliage, now sand dunes crowd anendless horizon. Overhead a bleak sky thick with clouds roils like simmeringwater. Only Apaosha remains, the apparition of Kamiron’s mother, but a deadthing. A husk.

Kamiron sees the mothscrawling across his mother’s skull and he doubles over, clawing at his stomach.

Leave him be, Gaian instructs when I take a step forward. He has to purge. Protect him.

Kamiron vomits maggots andscorpions. Roaches and soil. Congealed fly-sludge and spiders. Using my body toshield him, I face Apaosha. The demon riots and the desert riots with him.Dunes bubble like tumultuous waves. Geysers spew sand into the air asgray-green storm clouds whirlpool above us like a coalescing twister. I use myforearm to shield my eyes and nose as best I can from the sandstorm that whipsaround the demon.

Cloudy eyes rake me. “Do youknow what I am?” Apaosha sneers. His jaws unhinge like a serpent. “I am eternal!”

Like in his horse form,toxins spew from his mouth, only this time the poisons manifest on a deeper,metaphysical level. They become the fundamentals of Thought, the abstractions thatlanguage struggles to define.

Lack. Scarcity. Aridity. Dearth. Deficiency.

Each abstract concept takesa physical form, congealing into rotten disci that smash into me like Kamiron’ssledgehammer. Aridity burrows into my flesh, turning it dry and dull. My skincracks and blood wells from boils and blisters. Deficiency scrapes against mybones and leeches all nutrients. As a result, two now brittle ribs snap. Iscream. More abstracts rip me apart at the molecular level until even screamingbecomes impossible. The pain is so absolute, so overwhelming that it is all Iknow. All I have ever known. It takes sheer determination to move beyond thepain long enough to realize that Gaian is speaking to me, and a further exertionof raw will to decipher his frantic command.

Quickly, write this Word!

With weak, cracked fingers Isketch the kanji in the air as soon as Gaian shows me how.

Zyuuitsu. Abundance.

Like an emerald shield, the pictographwavers in the air between the demon and myself. The pain disappears. My ribsare no longer broken, my skin returns to normal.

And then a redwood elbowsits way into the middle of Apaosha’s desert.

Green, alive, massive. Thetree sprouts from the character with a stretch of its leafy arms and it shieldsus from Apaosha’s fury. The redwood’s roots plummet deep into the soil, holdingstill the sand and thwarting Apaosha’s sandstorm. Kamiron steps beside me, thebamboo calligraphy brush in hand. He draws other characters that shimmer in theair before us like miniature galaxies.

Zyouyokin, Surplus.

Nobi, Growth.

Houfu, Plenty.

Deep green grass spurtsbetween our toes and swells in a circle, eating away Apaosha’s colorlessdesert. A geyser of water bubbles up from the crown of a dune and spills into ariver complete with fish and lizards. Flowers bloom. Bees and crickets lendtheir power, buzzing and singing to restore harmony, to call down the sun.

When sunlight begins to burnaway his storm clouds, Apaosha lashes out in blind fury. A mustard cloud delugeof noxious fumes destroys the grass, kills the bees and crickets, and withersthe flowers on their stalks. Kamiron steps in front of me, and then Gaiantowers before us both. The sides of his head are shaved but his mossy hair isgathered into an elaborate, braided topknot complete with pine needles andpinecones. It curls over massive shoulders. His skin is as dark as mine andlooks like the bark of an oak tree. One massive, thick-fingered hand waves andthe gas clouds disperse like leaves falling in autumn. In the blighted spots,grass regrows, flowers again blossom and the bees and crickets are joined bybirds and squirrels.

Gaian turns his head to glanceback at us. With a chiseled face, full lips and eyes shaped like Kamiron’s,Gaian is at once beautiful and terrible. A force of creation, worshipped foreons. The deva of Earth, of living things.Eternal and unwavering.

Catching me gawking at hisirises, which are made up of English ivy that coils in circles like snakes in apit, Gaian winks before focusing on Kam. “Ima,Kamichirō.”Now.

Kamiron stares at hismother’s decayed form, her yukata now in tatters. I feel his tightly leashedfury that Apaosha would dare to pervert her form with his imitation. The bamboobrush slices through the air like a naked blade, cleaving characters from thelast of Apaosha’s blight.

“Hitei,” he spits.

Negation.

The Word dons a cloak ofpower and the Japanese characters sear themselves into Apaosha’s body. Thedemon screams, an ear-shattering, pain-filled shriek that is brutally choked off.Black smoke erupts from Kamiron’s mother and the demon shrinks, folding in on himselflike an origami crane. Apaosha winks into inexistence.

Around us, the world exhales.The horizon ripples like gelatin, exorcising the demon’s taint. The sun chasesaway the straggling clouds and though I continue to sense his presence, Gaian retreats.With his departure, everything falls reverently still.

“What did you do?” Iwhisper, though I’m not sure why. It feels like Kamiron’s dreamscape is . . .waiting.

“I named him,” Kam answers, hisvoice just as soft. He drags his palms down his face, fatigued. “When you wrotezyuuitsu, you exposed the link and allowedme to name the demon’s essence.”

I frown. I did all that? “You’re saying the link Apaoshaguarded was the Essence of Abundance?”

We inspect the spot whereApaosha disappeared. Kam kneels and rustles around in the grass until he replaceswhat he’s looking for. He holds up a wooden figurine of a deer with a driedgrass wreath tied around its neck. “Yes. Abundance was the link, Negation, thetether. I was able to break the Tether of Negation.” We both stare at thefigurine in his palm, unsure of what it represents. I wait for it to speak, tomove, to do something but it onlylies there.

“So one of the links thatbinds Ater to Earth is now gone?”

“According to your druidfriend.” Kamiron’s shoulder rises and falls. “One down, three to go.”

I’m not sure what I amsupposed to feel at the destruction of a tether. I expected a sense ofliberation. Maybe roses saturate the air with their powerful fragrance. Hell,even a glowing beam of light from on high that proclaims, “You have vanquishedthe enemy!” would have been nice.

Instead we have . . . adeer.

The figurine begins tocrumble, turning into white ash that drifts up into the sky in an iridescentplume. The change is instantaneous. A slick, oily feeling of contaminationcircles in my stomach and I stagger backwards. Something’s wrong. Terriblywrong. I know it with every fiber of my being. I double over, panting as an unknownlayer peels away from my soul and shatters.

Apaosha, the Negation, isgone. Kamiron’s safe. One less link binds Ater to Earth. We’re one step closerto avenging Melissa and saving Hamilton from the Darkness-That-Hunts. So why amI feeling this way?

“Shari?”

I brush aside his help andfocus on taking air into my lungs until the sensation recedes. “Didn’t you feelthat?”

Kamiron claps the ash fromhis hands and looks around at the beautiful rolling hills; a frown turns downthe corners of his mouth. “I felt odd for a second but it’s gone now. What doyou think it was?”

I shrug. My stomach settlesdown, but the nagging misgiving persists. Kamiron rubs my back, not seeming tonotice that it’s covered by a carapace of bark. His gaze lingers on the fir andevergreen that sprouts along the horizon. The river has turned into a lake nowand shimmers like gemstones. The sound of birds soothes us and when Kamironturns to me, the haunted look has gone.

“Know where we are?”

I shake my head.

“My soul. My essence.” Hegestures around him and our surroundings transform, rippling like water does afterstone has been cast into a pool. The landscape becomes no less serene orbeautiful. We are once again in a grove of cherry trees that stretch out inorderly lines for eternity. Pink blossoms flutter against an indigo sky ofstars and moonlight. “You returned peace to my soul, Shari. Thank you.”

To my surprise, Kamironkneels before me. His forehead nearly touches the ground as he genuflects and Ican’t help but feel like an elegant queen standing before her gallant, handsomeknight. My heart flutters and it takes a moment to force my voice to work.

“It was nothing, really. Youdid all the work, breaking one of the tethers.” I resist the urge to dig myfingers into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck. Instead I tug him tohis feet. “Are you alright? I know earlier, in the house--”

He cuts me off with a wave.“I understand it wasn’t real. I know Sandra’s gone, and my mother . . .” hesighs. “Well, for one, she’s never called me Kamiron. It’s always Kamichirō or Kamichi-chan.” He looksembarrassed by this last confession and offers a small smile at my confusion.“It’s like calling me ‘Kammy,’” he clarifies.

I laugh, imagining hisirritation at such a cute nickname.

He gives me a mock glare.“That stays between us. The last thing I need is Dace adding that little gem tohis repertoire. ‘Chameleon’ is bad enough.”

I pantomime zipping my lipsand tilt my head back to stare at the impossibly bright moonlight weavingthrough pink-white petals. “Your soul is beautiful, Kamiron. I now understandwhy uncorrupted souls are the only ones that can break the tethers.”

I turn to replace him watchingat me through hooded lids. I cannot read his expression. But my breath hitches,getting caught on a rib and my knees turn to water. I clear my throat andglance down at my dirty toes as they curl into the warm dirt. “So . . . how dowe get back?”

Kamiron takes my chin intohis hand. My cherry blossom hair brushes against his knuckles. He leans down,his lips edging near mine. His eyes, storm grey, reflect only determination anda flicker of need.

“This way.”