The onmyouji flicked out a fan as he looked Kuro up and down as if he hadn’t left the barrier down. But then Kuro wasn’t going to fling himself at the opening. Not when one blow from the onmyouji sent him flying across the room. “So you’re the thief plaguing the Eastern Ward Shrine.”

Kuro pushed himself up to a squat, both a relaxed posture and one ready for fight or flight. “My fame proceeds me.”

“Fame?” His brows nudged his black hat. “More like the notoriety of a natural disaster. Tell me, thief, do you even comprehend what the Eastern Ward Shrine does?”

Kuro snorted. “House obnoxious little rabbits who get far too many offerings.”

The onmyouji snapped his fan shut, but he still smiled. He probably smiled the same even when he gutted a shrieking spirit. His smiles couldn’t be trusted. “The Capital was built on this exact location over one thousand years ago upon the suggestion of the Imperial Court’s onmyouji. He found this area peculiarly rich in spiritual energy. The seven mountains protecting this valley, the dragon river running through one side. Each direction was deemed perfectly suited for summoning a particular form of energy.”

“Spare me.”

The onmyouji mask remained firm. “Upon his order, four shrines were built, one in each direction. The shrine to the south was dedicated to the goddess Inari, who watches over that most precious resource, rice. The shrine to the north was built over the Dragon God’s river to strengthen him. The Western shrine was dedicated to the tiger. And the Eastern—”

“You gave to a bunch of useless rabbit spirits,” Kuro interrupted.

“—was dedicated to the Storm God,” the onmyouji finished, his voice like the razor-edge of a saw. “Do you know why they built these shrines?”

“To protect the Capital against demons.” It was like speaking with Ren all over again. Everyone knew, and Kuro had grown up in the Southern Inari Shrine, until he’d shed his juvenile coat.

“Exactly,” the onmyouji said. “Each shrine strengthens this area’s natural barriers against demons. In the centuries when demon lords claimed domains and human slaves, while they warred against each other and massacred whole villages and castle towns, the Imperial family remained safe in the Capital. And why was that?”

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Kuro rolled his eyes.

The onmyouji remained silent, holding the closed fan against his chin.

Kuro groaned. “Fine. Because of the barriers.”

“Exactly,” he repeated. “Humans from all over the empire flocked to the Capital for protection. The Capital became a symbol of peace and tranquillity, a last vestige of hope for humanity.”

He acted like humans couldn’t and hadn’t survived outside. But they had. Sure, the demons slaughtered a great many of them, but humans bred like rabbits. And the demons didn’t attack every village. Just a lot of them.

“But now humanity is safe and in command once again,” the onmyouji said. “Humans administer every province, thanks to the Shogun’s armies. Yet now we’re plagued by demons once more. The Night Parade hides in the forests and attacks defenceless farms. They kill humans fleeing into the city. To cross out of the city is to die. But the Night Parade does not attack within the confines of the Capital. Do you know why?”

He sighed. Someone hadn’t been out for a stroll lately. But the onmyouji still wanted his answer. “The barriers.”

“Yes, the barriers,” the onmyouji said. “Funny how you should know at least that much, and yet you sneak into the Eastern shrine to steal their offerings. You weaken the shrine, and you weaken the barrier against the Night Parade. It’s almost as if you wish the barrier to fail.”

“Of course not!” Kuro snapped. “Is that what this is about? I know you humans get so confused about why I have black fur instead of white, but I’m not a demon.”

The onmyouji raised a flattened hand. “Yet one touch of my purification power causes you immense pain. It should only hurt a demon.”

Kuro gritted his teeth. “I’m a spirit now, but soon, I will be a god.”

The onmyouji made a very polite, very condescending ‘o’ with his mouth.

“I’m not weakening the barrier,” Kuro continued. “I’m strengthening it. Once those rabbits give up their shrine to me, my power will make the barrier even stronger. You should be helping me, not trying to—to contain me.”

“If you were a god, this barrier would mean nothing to you.”

“Exactly,” Kuro bluffed. “It does mean nothing. I only hoped to see the foolish human who only thinks he has power over me. But you don’t.”

The onmyouji gestured to the panel beside him. “Then by all means. I won’t force you to waste your time on a mere foolish mortal. Break through.”

It had to be a trap. He had to know that he’d left the barrier open. Whether Kuro was a demon or a god, he’d be able to escape.

The onmyouji only protected the doorway. The entire barrier was down. The remaining panels might contain residual spiritual power, but not enough to stop Kuro.

“But running would be a waste,” the onmyouji said. “The Shogun has a better plan for you.”

As if Kuro cared. Kuro pulled down the skin under his eye and stuck his tongue out at the onmyouji, then ran for the sliding paper panels that would crumble under Kuro’s weight.

“The Shogun wants to bestow upon you your own shrine.”