Sword of the Demon by Lupoff Richard A

Author:Lupoff, Richard A. [Lupoff, Richard A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781473208667
Google: c3t4CgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1587154145
Goodreads: 1039593
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 1976-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Nor does the Spirit Master Okinu-nushi speak or move. Kishimo stands with the sun, the Mirror of Amaterasu, directly behind her, its early rays glinting off the choppy surface of the dark Sea of Mists; yet the sky and air are very clear. Perhaps this island at the edge of the Sea of Mists, where the eternal fogs and storms of that cold, moist region hiss and scream, marks a boundary. Perhaps, beyond this point, all is different.

The sun’s rays fall fully upon Okinu-nushi; they illuminate his helmet and his armor, failing only to penetrate the brim of the iron kabuto to show his face. It is a moment of strange stillness with only the soft lapping of waters against rocky shore to break the total silence of the morn. Aizen and Susano-wu kneel near the edge of the bluff, behind Kishimo, while Okinu-nushi stands facing her, unmoving.

Kishimo hears the air rasping in and out of her lungs, feels its knife-edge crispness with joy and clarity. She hears the very blood pounding through her body, her heart thumping in her chest beneath the thin cloth of her kimono. She gathers her courage, draws a deep breath of chill air, speaks to the Spirit Master. But he makes no reply. Kishimo stares at Aizen and Susano-wu: they remain kneeling, unmoving.

With a single long stride Kishimo advances toward the Master. The grass beneath her feet is wet with beads of morning dew and windswept sea spray, beaded and glistening in the early sunlight. Kishimo walks toward the Spirit Master, one hand raised involuntarily to press against her bosom. Still Okinu-nushi does not move.

Kishimo halts within a pace of the Spirit Master. She speaks but he does not answer. She raises a hand and moves it as if to touch the Spirit Master upon the ancient-style cuirass that he wears.

As she does so, a jolt of pure frigidity smashes upon her arm and through her body, a cold shudder courses from her outstretched fingers back through all of her form, a wave of intolerable iciness flows from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Before her eyes, all turns to a pattern of dazzling white, which fades slowly to wintry gray before returning, slowly, to the normal hues of morning, green vegetation, brown soil, black rock, blue heaven.

A tingling fills Kishimo’s entire body, emanating from the tips of her fingers that most closely approached Okinu-nushi. She drops her eyes and sees, about the feet of the Spirit Master, a ring of white-frosted grass. About her own feet is a smaller but similar circle of frost. Kishimo exhales and sees that even the air from her lungs hangs frostily in the morning brightness.

So slowly that eyes can barely perceive the motion, the right hand of Okinu-nushi moves. From its position, fist clenched, elbow curved, hand resting upon the hip guard of his tanko armor, the fingers deliberately uncurl. The hand slowly rises. The light within the misty eyes beneath

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