The Ghost of Shinoda Forest Read online

  THE GHOST OF SHINODA FOREST

  Richard Parks

  I didn’t know how Kenji found me. I didn’t know what possessed him to look. Yet there he was, coming up the mountain trail to what was left of Enfusa Temple. I was sitting on the broad stone steps that now led to nothing, looking out over the valley below and admiring the view, when I heard his approach.

  “What are you doing here, Kenji-san?” I asked.

  “That would be my question to you as well, Lord Yamada. Or does it simply stand to reason that the only temple you feel any attraction to is a failed one?” Kenji the reprobate priest leaned his mendicant’s staff against a pine tree and sat down beside me on the steps. “Charming view,” he said, looking down the mountain.

  “Yes.”

  After a moment of more or less comfortable silence, he frowned and looked behind him. There wasn’t much to see. The temple building had burned down years ago; there wasn’t much left save the stone steps, blackened, shattered roof tiles, and a couple of moldering guardian statues, their features almost weathered away.

  “There are ghosts here,” he said. “I can sense them.”

  “Most likely. There’s something about thwarted plans and lost opportunities that tends to attract them.”

  Kenji sighed. “I know you’re under no obligation to tell me, but I have to ask again: What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Kenji frowned. “Lord Yamada, you’re frightening me.”

  “I haven’t touched saké in three weeks.”

  “Oh. In that case, I brought some with me…strictly for charitable reasons, you understand.”

  I sighed. “It’s not that I can’t afford saké, Kenji-san. I haven’t wanted it.”

  Kenji stared for a moment. “I was wrong. Now you’re frightening me.”

  I looked out at the view from the mountain. “The ancient Chinese poet Li Po once said that when he drank, he forgot Heaven and Hell. And when he really drank, he also forgot himself and thus found his greatest joy. I’ve been ‘really’ drinking for a long time now, Kenji-san. Would you concur?”

  “If there were such a thing as drinking at heroic levels, you would be an immortal,” Kenji said cheerfully.

  “And in all that time I never, not once, forgot myself or found any joy.”

  Kenji frowned. “So the lesson is ‘Never trust a drunken Chinese poet’?”

  I almost laughed. “That’s one. There may be another lesson, and perhaps that’s why I’m at Enfusa, but I have no idea what it may be.”

  “It simply could be that you never drink while you’re on a mission.”

  “I’m not on a mission.”

  “Yes, you are, though you don’t know it yet. Lord Yamada, I came to tell you that Princess Teiko’s ghost has been seen in Shinoda Forest.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Whether I was drunk or sober, Teiko haunted my dreams. I had always assumed, if I drank enough that one day this would no longer be true, but there had been fifteen years of drinking after we parted, plus two more after her death, and now my optimism was quite exhausted. As this foolish hope had been all that I had to fight her with, there was nothing left for me to do tonight except the only sensible thing—I surrendered.

  In this new dream I was back at Lake Biwa, two years ago. I knew it was two years ago because I was searching desperately along the shore of the lake. Teiko had eluded her guards, and her brother Prince Kanemore and I were searching, though now I knew where she was. I emerged into an open area near the cliffs, Kanemore at my side. I tried to look at him but he had no face. The only face I could see was Teiko’s, almost lost in the distance as she stood on the edge of a precipice, too far away to reach in time.

  I’ve heard that a dreamer can wake himself once he knows he is dreaming, but I always knew, and I never awoke. Maybe I didn’t want to; at least this way I could see Teiko again. Even if it was only to watch her die.

  She stepped off the edge, as I remembered. But this time, unlike all the times before, she did not strike the water. Her fall slowed from a hard plummet to a gentle drift, as if she were no heavier than a snowflake or the ash of a funeral pyre. She stood on the surface of the lake for a moment, and then she began to walk towards shore.

  Towards me.

  Kanemore, silent, bowed down. I merely waited, though I wanted to run. She moved across the surface of the water with barely a ripple. I finally sank to my knees and bowed, because I could not think what else to do. “Teiko-hime.”

  “It had to be,” she said. “You know this. There was no other way.”

  I knew. Teiko took her own life on her way to exile, convicted under a false accusation of treason, the accusation then disproven with my help. With her death laid squarely at the feet of the Fujiwara minister of justice, no one could openly oppose her son’s claim to the throne. All had gone according to her own plan. I, all unknowing, had merely played my part.

  “My son,” she said.

  “He is safe,” I said.

  “No,” she said. She sounded sad. “He is not safe. Neither are you.”

  “What must I do?” I asked.

  “Forgive me,” she said.

  I had tried. I was still trying.

  “Forgive me.”

  “I—”

  The words stuck in my throat, and when I looked up, she was gone.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Morning, as it usually does, came too early, and after a night sleeping on hard ground I was not in the best of moods to greet it. Besides, if there was a more foolish act for a human male than seeking out a fox spirit deliberately, I couldn’t think what it might be.

  Yet this was the second time in my life I’d found myself doing exactly that. It occurred to me that I wasn’t always my own best friend, and I said as much to Kenji . He paused on the road long enough to wipe the sweat from his bald head.

  “Lord Yamada, this is perhaps a revelation to you, but I can assure you that it’s no surprise to anyone else. But what prompted this sudden newfound understanding?”

  “I would have thought that obvious. Who else would travel from Enfusa Temple to the Capital and on to Shinoda Forest in search of foxes playing tricks? It’s not as if anyone’s asked me to do it. Frankly I still don’t understand why you came along.”

  “My reasons are my own,” Kenji said, “but yours are plain enough, which is part of the reason I did come. Lord Yamada, are you so certain that we’re chasing a fox?”

  I took a deep breath. “To the best of my knowledge, Princess Teiko never traveled through, never even set foot in Shinoda Forest in her lifetime. Even assuming that her ghost walks the earth still—a possibility I consider extremely remote—there is no reason, none at all, for her to manifest within Shinoda Forest. Therefore, it is someone or something counterfeiting her appearance, and a shapeshifter such as a fox would be the obvious choice. Forgive my arrogance, but one reason to do so would be to lure me there.”

  “Which would be a good argument for staying away,” Kenji pointed out.

  “Risky, perhaps, but the one sure way to reveal a trap is to fall into it.”

  Kenji didn’t say anything for a while. We walked in a heavy silence that the world around us did not share. It was barely mid-morning, but already the heat was becoming oppressive. Birds sang anyway, as well as cicadas, from almost every tree along the road.

  We finally stopped to rest by a cold spring, and after we had drunk our fill and eaten a rice ball, we sat on opposite sides of the spring and wrapped our silence around us like cloaks. Two years had passed since Princess Teiko’s death, most of which I had spent in the dregs of a saké cup, until Kenji found me at Enfusa.

  “Say what you’re thin
king, Kenji-san,” I said finally. “I know you’re dying to do so.”

  “Lord Yamada, do I really need to point out that this may actually be Princess Teiko’s ghost? Can you honestly tell me that you have not thought of this?”

  “Of course he has.”

  Prince Kanemore stood just downstream from the spring. It was obvious to me now that he had used the sound of the water to help mask his approach, not that he would have needed much cover. For the son of an Emperor, Kanemore was very much at home in the countryside, and there were hunters and assassins alike who envied his stealth. He looked a little older than I remembered him. He carried a bow and wore a tachi, along with a companion dagger thrust edge-up into his sash. Save for the lack of armor, I would have thought him dressed for war.

  I put aside my surprise long enough to touch my forehead to the ground, a move Kenji quickly copied. “To what do we owe this honor, Prince Kanemore?” I asked.

  “Oh, get up. It’s just us now,” Kanemore said, and he sat down on a nearby rock without further ceremony. “I’m here for the same reason you are. I do not believe my sister’s ghost haunts Shinoda Forest. And yet, part of me hopes that she does.”

  I sat back down. “Prince, your sister had no regrets and no unfinished business. I fear that is all on our side.”

  “I think so too. But as your astute friend was likely to point out,” he nodded at Kenji, “what if we’re wrong? Unless I am mistaken, you would like to be such a regret.”

  “I would be ashamed to be such a selfish person,” I said.

  “Yet you persist in wondering,” Kanemore said. “As do I, and so here we are. Shall we hunt our ghosts together?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “You are right, Highness, as usual.”

  We were approaching the borders of Shinoda Forest. So far I had seen two of the monsters called youkai and at least one actual ghost. Kenji held a ward in each hand and had been muttering sutras for the past half hour. I didn’t blame him. From here on, the monster and demon population was only going to increase.

  Kanemore frowned. “About what particularly?”

  “About both my feelings and what lies at the end of this search. We’re not hunting ghosts, except perhaps among our own regrets. No, I have no doubt that a fox has lured us to Shinoda Forest. I even think I know which one. The only question I have at this point is why.”

  “How about to deceive and beguile us and eat our livers?” Kenji asked.

  “I rather doubt that any of our livers would be much of a delicacy,” Kanemore said. “Or does this particular fox have a reason to want your liver?”

  That last was directed at me. “Quite the opposite. I once did her a tremendous favor, so I confess myself baffled.”

  “At least I have lived to see that, Lord Yamada.”

  It was a new voice, and one that I was not expecting. Even Prince Kanemore was caught completely by surprise. Princess Teiko stood before us on a large flat shelf of gray-white stone lying beside the path. One instant she wasn’t there, and the next she was, looking every bit as heart-wrenchingly beautiful as I remembered.

  Kenji just stared. Prince Kanemore obviously couldn’t decide between drawing his tachi or throwing himself face down before the image of his late sister. I just smiled and bowed low.

  “Greetings, Lady Kuzunoha.”

  The image of Princess Teiko shimmered, and then an unnaturally large white fox vixen with two bushy tails stood on the boulder. I’d have thought it was smiling, if a fox could smile. Then the image shimmered again, and the fox I knew as Lady Kuzunoha, once wife and consort to the leader of the Abe clan, stood in front of us. Her human form was lovely, but it was not that of Princess Teiko. She kneeled gracefully and bowed low to us.

  “Forgive me, but I knew you would come.”

  Now Prince Kanemore did reach for his tachi, but I stopped him. “No, Highness.”

  Kanemore glared at me. “This is a fox demon!”

  “True. It is also the noble Lady Kuzunoha,” I said, “and I would like to hear what she has to say.”

  Now both Kenji and Kanemore were staring at me, but Lady Kuzunoha smiled. “It is not often one hears ‘noble’ applied to a fox,” she said.

  “I choose my words carefully,” I said. “For your sake, I hope you do the same. I doubt Prince Kanemore sees the humor in your little joke.”

  “This is not a joke, Lord Yamada. I apologize for using this method to get your attention, but it was impossible for me to come to you. I needed you to come to me.”

  “But why?” Kenji asked.

  She looked at him. “Because I owe Lord Yamada a debt, which I hope now to repay.” She turned back to the other two men and bowed low. “This concerns Prince Kanemore as well, so I do pray Your Highness will listen to me before you think of your sword again.”

  “I had not stopped thinking of my sword,” Prince Kanemore said gruffly. “But I am listening. What do you wish of us?”

  “Only to warn you. This concerns Teiko’s son, the heir to the throne. He is in great danger.”

  Kanemore scowled, and it was such a powerful scowl that I half expected the skies above to scowl as well.

  “Prince Takahito? He has been in danger since he was named heir. The only reason I remain at court is to protect him.”

  She sighed. “I know your reputation, Prince Kanemore, and I know that it is well-deserved. But I do not think you alone will be enough. His enemies are plotting to send an assassin after him.”

  While I did want specifics, I didn’t need to ask whom she meant as a group. While none of them dared to move against the Crown Prince directly, any one of a number of the Fujiwara clan, not excluding the Chancellor, would shed no tears if he were removed from the succession. Just so long as the crime could not be traced back to them, of course. Had my dream been prophetic or merely my own suspicious nature proven correct?

  “Who is the assassin?” I asked. “Do you know?”

  “Lord Yamada, it was supposed to be me.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Kenji had set his wards around our camp. They wouldn’t stop a human, but Kenji knew his business, and no youkai or demon or ghost in the forest would get past them.

  Despite these precautions, Prince Kanemore sat on a fallen log with his back to the fire, his eyes slowly scanning the darkness between the trees. Kenji was out gathering firewood on the opposite side of the camp. Now and then we could hear him cursing as he tripped over a root or snagged a bramble in the darkness.

  “Do you believe her?” Prince Kanemore asked.

  A rather troubling question. I didn’t pretend to understand the fullness of Lady Kuzunoha’s reasoning—she was, after all, a fox—but I was reasonably certain of at least part of the answer.

  “That she was approached by agents of the Fujiwara? Yes. That she refused them? Also yes. That those agents sought contact with other denizens of this place? Again, yes.”

  “It’s very worrying,” Kanemore said. “I have seen Lady Kuzunoha’s human form. It would be relatively easy for such a…charming assassin to gain access to the inner Court. She says she refused, and you believe her. Is that your inclination, or do you have reasons?”

  I almost smiled. Aside from his martial prowess, Prince Kanemore was a very fine tactician, too good not to consider all possibilities in a situation. One of those possibilities being that I was completely wrong about Lady Kuzunoha. However, there was something that I don’t think even he had considered.

  “Prince, by masquerading as Princess Teiko she drew attention to herself, something a fox does not do without reason. Further, we would be far from the only interested parties to hear of it. It’s likely that our presence in Shinoda Forest is known.”

  He frowned. “Your point?”

  “The Fujiwara will know that Lady Kuzunoha met with us. It will not take much thought to know why. By alerting us to the plot, she’s done us a service and at the same time placed herself in a great deal of danger. That is one reason I’m incl
ined to believe her. However….”

  Kenji chose this moment to return to the camp. He held a small bundle of broken limbs, but he kept glancing behind him.

  “I hear voices,” he said. “I think they’re coming this way.”

  I had hoped I was wrong. Sadly, no. The fire had been a bad idea, in hindsight. That and the wards would keep the denizens of Shinoda Forest at bay, but not these. For the ones coming, it was a beacon.

  “What of it? Don’t you trust your wards?” Kanemore asked.

  I reached for my own tachi. “These are not youkai, Highness. These are worse.”

  Kanemore had already drawn his own sword. “Demons?”

  “Humans.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  They looked like lighter shadows moving against darker shadows, but I knew that was their clothing. Every now and then I caught the glint of steel through the trees. “Get your staff, Kenji.”

  “There are many, but we are not encircled,” Kenji pointed out. “We could run.”

  Prince Kanemore sighed. “Have you forgotten where we are? Shinoda Forest is full of monsters and demons and night creatures. Not a viable alternative.” He peered into the darkness. “Who are they?”

  “Agents of the Fujiwara,” I said. “I wager that they realized from the start that Lady Kuzunoha would refuse them. In my arrogance I thought the trap was for me, but now I believe their real intent was to lure you here, Highness. Away from the Court and any witnesses, your death could easily be blamed on the youkai of Shinoda Forest, with only the word of a fox demon to counter it.”

  “Which no one would believe, obviously,” Kanemore said.

  I bowed. “Just so. And with Your Highness out of the way, Takahito’s ‘accidental’ demise would be simpler to arrange.”

  Kanemore swore softly. “You must admire the elegant simplicity of the plot,” he said, “even if it is utterly without honor.”

  The fire was burning low, but we still moved to put the dying embers between us and our attackers; silhouetting ourselves in front of it would invite arrows.

  Kenji frowned and clutched his staff tightly. “Why haven’t they attacked? If they want us, they have us. We’re far outnumbered.”