Following the magistrate’s directions, I turned right onto the road at the bottom of the hill. Before long, it became little more than a dirt track winding among rice paddies and occasional clumps of trees. I briefly thought about Magistrate Taira’s strange behavior at the party, but I was too tired, and my mind too fogged with saké to give the matter much consideration.

I began nodding off in time to the slow clop clop of my horse’s plodding walk. I tried to stay awake, but it was hard. Had I made a wrong turn? I couldn’t be sure.

The sound of galloping horses came from behind me.

What kind of idiot would run a horse along such a rough road in the middle of the night?

As I guided my horse to the side of the road to let them by, I looked back to see who it was.

A group of eight horsemen was rapidly gaining on me. One of them drew a yumi and took a shot at me. The man on the lead horse, whose wild hair immediately identified him as the leader of the group that attacked the high priestess, yelled, “There he is! Shoot his mount, but don’t kill him.”

Sleep vanished from my brain, and I kicked my horse into a gallop. The riders were not far behind me. The district magistrate’s strange behavior made sense now. He had sent me off so these riders could catch me. I suspected that whatever the wild-haired man had in mind for me, I wasn’t going to like it.

I urged my horse to greater speed down the dark path. We came around a blind curve, and a fallen tree lay across the road, completely blocking the way. Crouched behind it were several archers. They had apparently been waiting for me because they loosed their arrows the moment I appeared around the bend. Instinctively, I ducked down behind the neck of my mount. Their aim was excellent, and I felt three heavy impacts through the mare’s body.

I am having a bad year for horses. Two horses killed in four months has to be some kind of record.

The poor animal went mad. She convulsively reared, completely out of control. Her violent motion threw me from the saddle. I had just enough presence of mind to grab the naginata and maintain my hold on it as I fell.

I landed awkwardly on my right side. I heard a sharp crack and felt a stabbing pain in the right side of my chest as I struck the ground.

At least one rib broken, maybe two, I thought, instinctively assessing the damage.

Dragging my naginata with me, I slid into the ditch running alongside the dirt trail. The mare lay in the road, her legs jerking wildly in her death throes.

Two of the men jumped up from behind the log and ran towards me, each with a tachi drawn and ready.

I heard a pop, and there came a tremendous flash of light in the road behind me. Men and horses screamed. I couldn’t see a thing after it faded. The steps of the men coming towards me faltered as they lost their sight. I had been looking away from the flash, so it wasn’t long before I could see a little.

One of my assailants from the barricade walked into a tree. The other man kept his sense of direction and continued moving my way. Blinking my eyes to restore my vision, I crawled towards the trees beside the trail. Another stab of pain from my ribs forced an involuntary groan. My pursuer swung his tachi at the sound, but the blade passed over me. It surprised me he was so close. He had moved faster than I expected.

I tried to bring out my naginata, but it was underneath me, my body weight keeping it firmly on the ground.

I must have made more noise because the man pivoted to face me and raised his tachi high over his head. I yanked wildly at the naginata, certain this was the end. It still wouldn’t budge. I waited for the final, fatal cut.

With a swish and a deep thwok, the side of the man’s head seemed to change shape, and he tumbled into the ditch. I tried to make sense of what had just happened. A figure materialized from the shadows under the trees and grabbed me by the arm. He wore nondescript dark clothing with a scarf wrapped around his head and the lower part of his face. His skin was blackened with ash. The only spots of color were the whites of his eyes.

He hissed at me, “Yoshi, let’s move! They ain’t going to be blind for long.”

“Mouse?” I said, incredulous. He was carrying his sling in his hand. A quick glance at the body in the ditch confirmed the side of the head had been bashed in by a large rock.

He dragged me to my feet. “The two of us been following you since you left the party. Why did you come this way?”

“Because someone told me this was the way to the inn. I think maybe he lied to me.”

Wait, what? Two of us?

I hefted the naginata, and we stumbled along under the trees. I really wanted to put some distance between us and my pursuers. From behind us came the shout “Find the inspector!”

Shortly after that, another voice yelled, “Kill the inspector!”

Every breath was agony—even the simple act of stumbling along to keep up with Mouse exhausted me. We were forced to stop to allow me to catch my breath. Mouse turned around to observe what was happening back on the road.

“I thought them two groups was workin’ together, but they’re busy killing each other. You been in Isé for two days, and you already have two different bunches trying to kill you.”

I protested between gasps, “One of the groups has been trying to kill me since the attack on the high priestess, not just since I got to Isé. So it’s been about five days.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?”

As I regained my wind, I took a look for myself.

The two bands were embroiled in combat. Most of the mounted men lay in the road, they and their horses killed by arrows. The other two riders had dismounted. Their leader was very much alive and engaged in a wild mêlée with four other men. His strength, speed, and ferocity were nothing short of amazing. As we watched, he smashed one of his opponents in the head with his testubou.

“Who is that fella?” Mouse asked, in awe.

“I don’t know. He led the group that attacked the high priestess.”

Someone finally got around to examining the body of my mare. “The inspector is gone!”

The man with the testubou shouted, “Find the inspector!”

One of the men behind the log shrieked, “Kill the inspector!”

I wish they would stop saying that.

Those not actively involved in the mêlée scattered into the forest. Mouse pulled on my arm. “Here they come, so we better go. I don’ want to meet that crazy fella.”

“Where are we going?” I wheezed.

“She told me to get you to the canal and put you in the water. Course, I’m not sure where the canal is. You keep headin’ downhill, and I’ll scout ahead. Be right back.” He disappeared before I could ask him who “she” was.

Without his help, I moved more slowly. My head was spinning, but I didn’t know whether it was from the saké or shortness of breath. I began using my naginata as a staff to aid in my walking, leaning on it like an old man.

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I came out of the trees into a broad meadow. I was about two-thirds of the way across when I heard the crackle of leaves behind me. Two men armed with yumi stepped out of the trees into the field. When they saw me, they nocked their arrows and let fly.

I dropped face-first onto the grass, and the arrows passed over my head. The impact with the ground sent an agonizing jolt of pain through me. My vision swam, and bright flashes filled my sight. Regardless, I had no choice—I had to keep moving. If I just lay there, the next two arrows would pin me to the turf.

I struggled to my feet and staggered towards the trees ahead of me lurching back and forth. I wasn’t really trying to dodge so much as the effort at walking had me weaving side to side. Twice more, arrows passed close enough that I heard them streaking by. I was almost there, just a few more steps.

Pain exploded through my left shoulder and arm. I fell forward and crawled into the shadow and cover of the trees. An arrow was lodged my upper left arm. It didn’t seem to be deeply embedded in the muscle, but I couldn’t take the time to try and remove it. I needed to find a place to hide. I struggled to my feet and moved deeper into the trees.

What the hell was I thinking walking through the middle of a meadow? I’m too drunk for this.

Mouse appeared in front of me, popping out of the shadows. I nearly took his head off with the naginata. “Say something before you just appear like that!” I growled.

“Over this way,” he said, directing me to the left. When he saw the arrow in my arm, he clucked his tongue and said, “I can’t leave you by yourself even for a little while, can I?”

“Very funny,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Where are they?”

“Other side of the clearing.” I pointed towards the archers.

“Wait here.” Mouse vanished into the brush again. His disappearing act was getting old.

A crashing sound and screams pierced the night. Mouse had found the two archers. I sat down in the shadow of a tree, tried to catch my breath, and waited for him to return.

When I heard him moving through the undergrowth from the other side of the tree, I leveraged myself to my feet with my naginata and stepped out to meet him. “Now, can we get—”

It wasn’t Mouse—it was one of the archers. When he saw me, he yanked his tachi from his belt and attacked.

I dropped my naginata. There was no way I would have been able to use it one-handed. I drew my kodachi and blocked the strike. This was no trained bushi—he had no skill with his weapon. He must have been a bandit. He flailed the tachi back and forth hoping to hit me.

When he swung the tachi back behind his left shoulder for another wild attack, I stepped in close, making it impossible for him to hit me with his weapon. I thrust my kodachi up under his ribs and into his heart. He sank to the ground, a dark spreading blot staining the front of his robes.

“You found him. Good.” I jumped in surprise and whirled around, then folded my arms across my chest in pain.

“Dammit! Would you make some sound before you appear like that?”

Mouse looked at the dead archer and then back at me. “How did he sneak up on you?”

“He didn’t. I thought it was you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “With all the noise he was making? Did you think I was drunk?”

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and sank onto a fallen tree trunk. “Can we get this arrow out of my arm?”

Mouse cut away the left sleeve of my jacket and studied the wound. He stooped and drew one of the arrows out of the dead archer’s quiver, then held the arrow up for my inspection. “Barbed arrowheads,” he said.

My gut clenched. I really wanted saké. A lot of saké.

Mouse broke the arrow shaft off above the wound. He took the material he’d cut from my jacket and twisted it into a tight bundle. He put it in my mouth and said, “Bite down.”

I bit down.

I closed my eyes, dreading the next step. I mustered what strength and resolve I could and gave a short nod for Mouse to continue.

He pulled my arm straight to brace it, then shoved the arrow the rest of the way through my shoulder.

It felt as though someone was ripping the muscle off my arm. Fire tore its way through my shoulder. Pain became my entire world. Distantly, I heard muffled screaming.

The arrowhead emerged. Mouse jerked my arm over my head, grabbed the arrow just behind the bloody arrowhead and yanked it out in one smooth motion.

The pain receded slightly and I realized the screaming was coming from me. Mouse released my arm and I collapsed back against the tree. I panted wildly, taking short, shallow breaths through my nose, my heart hammering in my chest. The taste of blood filled my mouth. I had bitten deeply into my tongue, even through the gag.

Mouse gently nudged my jaw open and removed the gag. With my mouth finally clear I took deep, gasping breaths, trying to regain my wind.

Mouse tied the gag over the wound in my shoulder to stanch the bleeding. Grabbing my right arm again, he led us off into the trees.

A white fox came scampering across the forest floor. In the moonlight, its tail seemed overly bushy and thick. As it got closer, I blinked my eyes, certain I was seeing things. But no, the fox had five tails, not one. As I stood staring at it, dumbfounded, the fox shimmered and in its place stood the woman from my dreams, the one who alerted me to the attack on the high priestess.

I wondered if I was hallucinating, but the pain from my ribs and the agony from my shoulder convinced me otherwise. “What? Who—?” I asked, totally confused.

She gave Mouse a sharp glance. “What are you doing? I told you to go to the canal. You need to get in the water right away. Otherwise, he’ll be able to scent you.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Go quickly. I’ll go back and confuse the trail. Once you are in the canal, go north until you find the road, and then get out of sight and wait for me.”

She pointed off to our right. “The canal is that way.” She transformed back into a fox and dashed back the way we’d come, towards the men following us.

I finally found my voice. “Who was that?”

Mouse shrugged. “She just showed up here in Isé and ordered me to follow you from the yozakura. No idea who she is, although I’ve seen her talking to Surei at the saké house. Surei treats her with respect, so I did what she said.”

“What did she mean by he will be able to scent you?” I asked.

“I was gonna ask you the same question. Let’s assume we’re running from men with dogs. I know how to do that.”

We moved down the hill into the rice paddies—Mouse in the lead with me tottering along behind. The paddies were flooded, and we had to fight our way through waist-deep water and mud. By the time we found the canal, I was about ready to collapse.

“I have to take a quick rest,” I gasped.

Mouse frowned. “We can’t take too long. They’re probably not far behind us.”

We stopped just long enough to allow the agony in my side to abate slightly, then Mouse forced us onward.

Once in the canal, we followed a meandering path through the irrigation system. Every time the canal intersected another channel, we changed direction. “To throw off the dogs,” Mouse explained. I staggered blindly behind him. Wading through the water took real effort. Even with the short break, it wasn’t long before I was on the verge of exhaustion again. We had to stop make frequent stops for me to catch my breath.

To try and keep my mind off the pain, I considered the woman who was a fox. Hard as it was to believe, the woman who haunted my dreams for years was actually a kitsuné. She was not quite as beautiful in person as she appeared in my dreams, though.

The idealized appearance she wore in my visions was different enough that I hadn’t recognized her. We had met many years previously, long before I left Kyoto with my father.

In one particularly crazy episode of our childhood, Surei dreamed up a magical ceremony she wanted to perform. It involved an oath to Lord Buddha and the other gods. She used a tantou covered with mystical symbols that she claimed belonged to Abé no Seimei. I don’t know if it was the presence of the knife, but, unlike the spell to bring our mothers back from the dead, this ritual worked. As soon as we finished the oath, the kitsuné appeared in her human guise. She told us, “Young heroes, I was passing nearby and couldn’t help but hear your great oath. I need your help.” We agreed, but aiding her nearly got us both killed.

I wondered what the kitsuné was up to this time. I also wondered about her connection to Surei.

The moon set and the sky lightened in the east, but still, we struggled on. Just as the sun was coming over the horizon, we stumbled over a major road running alongside the canal.

We crawled out of the water. Crossing the field to the road, we lay down in the grass beside it. I was wet from head to my toe, chilled through and through, my arm felt like it was on fire, and I was still having trouble breathing. The only good thing about the situation was I kept drifting off into an uneasy sleep due to my intense exhaustion.

Wagons began appearing. A rice cart, the ox led by a senile-looking old peasant without any teeth, pulled to a stop near us. “You lookin’ for a ride?” the old woman wheezed.

“No, we are waiting for someone,” Mouse told her.

The peasant pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. She looked in both directions. There were no other carts or wagons visible on the road. Satisfied there was no one nearby, she transformed into the noblewoman we were expecting. “Hurry and climb in,” she said, then changed back into the old peasant woman.

Mouse and I climbed in among the rice bags. I was surprised to see my saddlebags stowed in among the cargo. “Where did these come from?”

“She spent a lot of time getting you new clothes. It would be a shame to lose them so soon,” the woman said, “She is going to be mad enough as it is.”

She tugged on the ox leads, and the cart moved slowly down the road, away from Isé.