Tails High Read online

  Spirit Hunters

  Book 3: Tails High

  Spirit Hunters Book 3: Tails High © 2016 Paul Kidd

  [email protected]

  Dedication

  For Damien Morton.

  Closest friend of my youth – a font of enthusiasms, ideas and fearless jokes. We discovered RPG gaming and wargames together, and shared countless adventures. Played ‘Bushido’, trained in martial arts together, waved sticks over our heads in the SCA…

  You would have loved these.

  In a time long past, the Bear was immensely proud of his prowess. He wrestled the other animals in the great forest one by one, braying over them in triumph as he threw them in the dust.

  One day, while stomping about looking for wrestling partners, the Bear spied the Fox lying fast asleep beside a waterfall. The Bear surged over and beat his claws against his chest.

  “I am the Bear! Bow before me! My arm is so powerful that I can crack a tree trunk with a single blow! The largest boulder will be torn from the earth with one shove! What have you to match this?”

  The Fox opened one eye and gave a yawn, displaying his long pink tongue.

  “My strongest muscle is my tongue. I am not certain that we are suited to a wrestling match…”

  “A tongue cannot be more powerful than an arm!” The Bear reared in triumph. “I am supreme! I am master of all!”

  The Fox gave another yawn.

  “Surely not. For on the peak of the tallest mountain far to the north, there is a dragon whose arms are as strong as yours” Fox worked his chops. “He is supreme!”

  “We shall see!” The Bear turned to the north. “Where was this beast?”

  “North. Just keep heading north. Tallest mountain – you can’t miss it.”

  The Bear thundered off into the north, where he had many strange and rather pointless adventures.

  The Fox, on the other hand, went back to sleep. Later on, he shared a little bit of lunch with the Cat and the Tanuki. All of them agreed that the forest had become pleasantly quiet.

  Children’s story as told by Kitsune nō Yama Sōsha Kagone, Matriarch of Kitsune Mountain.

  The Sacred Isles…

  There is a vessel without sides, ever full, yet ever empty.

  There is a river without end. Ever still, yet ever flowing.

  Through it and within it, all the myriad things are formed.

  - Tao…

  Around us and within us, never seen, yet all encompassing.

  Motion never ending. Life without end.

  Eight worlds coalesced out of the primal energies – for it is the nature of the Tao to take on form.

  Eight worlds: Seven supernatural realms forming a ring about the eighth – about the mortal plane.

  There, at the hub of creation, the mortal realm prospered and diversified. From the oceans and the air, the myriad lands arose, and upon them the beasts and plants, the herbs and metals, with the elemental spirits in all of their profusion. The primal animal spirits grew in power, spreading their mortal kin across the world. At heaven’s edict, the first men began to appear. Spirit and man performed great deeds, and the stories became legends. Tribes joined to become peoples, and the first ancestors of nations arose.

  At the far edge of the mortal realm, great, rugged islands arose from the waves.

  They were lands of majestic mountains and wind-swept, lonely shores – of tall forests, bamboo groves and whispering mountain streams. There were hot springs steaming upon snowy mountainsides, and quiet places where kami spirits dwelled. When the first men arrived, they found a land already steeped in ancient magic.

  The Sacred Isles: Land of the Rising Sun.

  Few now remember the terrible ordeals of the ancient age – of the time before the emperors: only the archives of the kitsune reach back so far. Clan battled clan, until the counsel of the foxes finally prevailed. When the Oni of the demon realm invaded the mortal world, it was the peoples of the Sacred Isles who defeated their attack. It was Tennu, the man destined to become the first emperor, who slew the Lord of the Oni, and sealed shut the demon gate forever. The terrible magics faded, leaving nothing but tiny, unseen cracks in the barriers between the worlds.

  In the Sacred Isles, the imperial court brought a golden age of art and order: painters and poets, holy men and philosophers. To the old religions and philosophies were added the schools of Buddhist thought. The Sacred Isles blossomed with a culture rich beyond all words. Yet as the years became centuries, the imperial court became more and more focussed upon its own inward affairs. Warrior clans were settled in the wilderness, there to tame and farm the lands. The warriors embraced their own codes of honour and of loyalty, and became the samurai.

  Far from the elaborate culture of the court, the great samurai clans slowly grew in power. Rebellions and clan feuds began, staining the lands with war. To maintain order, the court created its own clans of imperial samurai, led by imperial magistrates chosen for merit. Imperial law kept trade flowing, and helped smooth the ruffled feathers of rival samurai lords.

  And so there settled a peace of sorts. The warrior clans grew ever larger, and the court once again sank deep into its own affairs. The Oni were long gone, and it seemed as though the world would last forever and unchanged.

  Though as any fox will tell you: all stasis is an illusion.

  As years complacently turned into centuries – Evil began to find its way…

  But the Tao is balance.

  Where there is darkness – there must also be light.

  Where there are evil spirits –

  There will be Spirit Hunters.

  Eighth Encounter:

  The Art of Being Koi…

  Chapter 1

  The light of a beautiful summer morning shone soft and golden through the trees. It lingered in brilliant points upon the edges of the leaves, flashing from the slow, shallow river just beyond. The air was filled with the scents of sun-warmed earth and grass. Butterflies drifted through the shadows, and all was well with the world.

  Kitsune Sura lounged languidly in the grass. The fox spirit was in her human form, long fox-orange hair bound back into a pony tail. Face propped upon one hand and a straw in her mouth, her long tail wove and flopped lazily to and fro. She contemplated a plain wooden gō board set out on the ground beside her, sucking on a tooth as she considered her next move.

  At the far side of the board, Nezumi Chiri cast a pleased eye over the game. The rat spirit’s long white hair streamed about her like sheets of pure silk as she sat in the sun.

  Chiri’s air elemental, Bifuuko, drowsily sunned herself at Chiri’s side. The little creature looked something like a dragonfly – her transparent blue form lit with miniscule images of clouds. The elemental watched in sleepy approval as Chiri took up a white stone between two fingers, and elegantly planted it onto the board. She had surrounded a small nest of Sura’s black pieces, and swept them from the game.

  Behind Chiri, a tea kettle hung above a small and tidy campfire. Steam shot merrily from the spout as water came to the boil. Sura yawned, looked towards the kettle and jerked her chin.

  “Tea’s ready!”

  Chiri turned to fetch the kettle. Behind her, the fox flashed a hand across the board, swapping some of Chiri’s white stones for her own black ones. The rat spirit looked swiftly back at the game, but Sura was lounging back – a study in pure innocence. Sura examined the board, tapped her fingers against her chin, then placed a black stone down.

  Her move managed to capture a great number of white stones.

  Chiri raised one brow, but was unperturbed. She prepared tea, moving with her customary grace. She selected her morning favourite, a green tea with toasted rice, savouring the scent.

  “It is a beautiful morning, Sura san! Ho
w long do you think Tonbo and Kuno will be?”

  Sura elegantly twirled her hand.

  “Shopping for armour lacing? Kuno could be hours! Think of all the swatches he’ll get to play with!”

  The rat spirit presented her friend with a cup of tea and a little tray of rice cakes. Sura made a sunny nod of gratitude, and basked in a sense of infinite wellbeing.

  Chiri’s earth elemental, Daitanishi, usually took the form of a grumbling rock the size of a fist. As Sura looked away to help herself to rice cakes, the elemental stealthily emerged from the dirt and turned himself into a number of little white gō stones. He filtered stealthily onto the board, managing to outflank several of Sura’s pieces.

  Chiri looked at the board, then made a great show of suddenly discovering a tactical advantage. She put a stone down with a flourish, and swept half the board clear at a stroke.

  Sura sat up and looked thoughtfully at the board. Several white stones quivered and seemed to laugh at her. She bit into her rice cake and observed the little stones wryly.

  Chiri sat back with tea and cakes, looking off towards the nearby fields. It was late summer, and the sting had gone out of the sun. It was a warm and sleepy day. The rat spirit contemplated a grasshopper that sat upon a grass stem just nearby and gave a contented, peaceful sigh.

  “It is pleasant to spend a morning uncomplicated by troubles…”

  A trail of bubbles had been stealthily moving along the river just nearby. Slowly – stealthily – a hideous being rose up out of the murk. It was a great, knotted, powerful figure, with a lumpen green skin densely covered in warts and scales. The monster had clawed feet and the thick shell of a tortoise. Its beaked face was lit by an absolute, scheming evil.

  A bowl-shaped depression atop the creature’s head was fringed with filthy hair. It flexed long blade-like claws that jutted from its hands, and moved slowly forward through the reeds. It looked towards the two women, lusting for their flesh, drooling as it crept forward through the shadows.

  Chiri and Sura ignored the creature. Both had settled down to nibble at some rice cakes. Finishing her snack, Sura dusted herself free of crumbs, gave a yawn, then tossed back the last of her tea.

  “Whose move is it?”

  “I believe it is mine.” Chiri reached for the teapot. “More tea?’

  “Oh, please!”

  The monster came towards them, balanced lightly on its vile feet. It seethed with strength and blood-lust, breath hissing as it smelled the scent of tender, living flesh.

  The creature slowly stropped its claws. It chuckled in a voice as cold as ice.

  “Two morsels. Sweet, tasty morsels…!”

  Sura waved the interruption away, frowning down at the game board.

  “Shhhh! There are people trying to cheat here!”

  The monster edged closer, flexing his fingers with their long claws.

  “Soon they will scream as I peel the living flesh from their bones.” The creature clacked its jaws. “Perhaps the little ones do not yet realise what I am?”

  Sura stood up, yawning, stretching herself and casually cricking her back.

  “Hmm – yup! Kappa! Carnivorous, super-strong, super-fast. Bowl in the head contains life force…” Sura finished her stretch. “The locals said they’d had some trouble.”

  Lithe and slight, Chiri arose. She bowed to the Kappa with absolute politeness.

  “Greetings, honourable monster. We have been informed that you have eaten several local people. We ask in all humility that you reconsider your life style. You have chosen to live the path of evil, and in the end, we believe it will be your undoing.” The rat bowed once more in genteel sincerity. “Please consider my advice to be offered with the best of all intentions.”

  The Kappa laughed.

  “I choose evil because the path is sweet! Sweet with the blood of tasty little maidens like yourselves!” The monster moved slowly forward. “I shall take you alive, so that I can revel in your terror. Were I a cook, I would prepare you whole…”

  Sura instantly brightened.

  “You need recipes? Well I can cook!”

  Chiri swivelled a considering glance upon the fox. “Is that strictly true, Sura san?”

  The fox assumed a lofty manner, placing her hand upon her heart.

  “I cook! I just use food as a means of experimental expression.”

  “True. Your snail sukiyaki remains one of my more colourful memories.”

  Sura planted her fist upon her hip. “Be that as it may, I believe we can at least give mister Kappa here a recipe hint or two.” The fox waved a hand to indicate herself and her friend. “Firstly, we recommend only using the freshest, perkiest of ingredients!”

  The Kappa slashed out with its claws.

  “Enough!”

  The monster charged. It came straight at Sura and Chiri, snarling in rage – armoured, massive and shockingly swift. Sura, however, remained in place, still calling out recipe advice.

  “First, take your victims, season lightly and set them aside.” The Kappa was almost upon her. The fox suddenly dodged away. “Here’s something we prepared previously!”

  Bifuuko seized a long cord hidden in the weeds. The little air elemental whipped the line tight, blurring around and around a tree to fasten the tripwire. The charging Kappa struck the tripwire and tripped clean over onto its face.

  The bowl built into a Kappa’s head held the fluid that gave the monster its spectacular speed and strength. But once spilled, the creature was almost helpless. Sura gave a great hoot of joy, seeing that her plan had succeeded. The Kappa landed flat on its back, slamming its shell hard into the grass. Chiri clapped her hands, wonderfully pleased.

  The Kappa flipped about onto its front, still moving with horrible agility. Head down, it could be seen that the creature wore a tight little sheet of oiled leather stretched across its head bowl, held tight by a cord whipped about the rim.

  Not a single drop of strength-liquid had spilled. Sura’s ears drooped.

  “Oops!”

  Chiri flung her teapot at the monster, making him shield his face. The Kappa roared! With one blow, he shattered an entire tree trunk, narrowly missing fox and rat. Chiri and Sura flashed and changed into their animal forms. They both dashed wildly off into the weeds.

  The Kappa came after them. Chiri yelled back at Sura as they dodged madly through the grass.

  “A hat? It has a hat?”

  “Well how was I to know?” Sura was deeply aggrieved. “I mean, if someone wants you to get rid of a monster for them, they ought to provide a proper description! Something like, ‘By the way, it has a lid!’”

  The monster ripped a tree stump out of the ground and hurtled it at them. The massive missile crashed into the weeds a hairsbreadth ahead, bringing both animals screeching to a halt. The Kappa lunged at them, but the pair dove through a gap in the roots.

  Daitanishi appeared in the gap. He spun like a wheel, spraying loose dirt back onto the Kappa’s eyes. The monster snarled, shielding its face, staggering back to wipe madly at its eyes.

  Having circled back around, Sura came racing from behind. The fox ran straight up the monster’s back, seized the knot holding tight the lid, and wrenched at it with her jaws. She managed to pull the cord free.

  The Kappa roared and tried to reach her. Razor-claws slashed past as she ducked, slicing a dozen strands of fur. But the fox tore away the leather cover atop the creature’s head.

  The Kappa slammed its back against a tree, trying to crush the fox flat. She ended up clinging to the monster’s muzzle, yelping as it snarled and tried to claw her away. Sura scrabbled madly back to the rear of the enormous head. She plunged her muzzle deep into the monster’s head-bowl and sucked at the vile green liquid within.

  The stuff was gut-wrenchingly vile. The fox almost turned green. She spat out the mouthful of fluid, feeling instantly nauseous.

  The Kappa staggered and fell. Sura went tumbling out across the grass as the monster thrashed, the las
t of the magic fluid spilling from its head. The monster tried to rise – crashed its claws down into the dirt – then gave a rather nasty death rattle as it died.

  Two samurai stood in the road, goggling at the scene. Tonbo, huge and patient, was laden down with baskets of shopping. Kuno – a wonderfully neat and dapper man – was dressed in armour that had been all splendidly re-laced. Sura’s final mouthful of Kappa fluid splashed almost to his sandals. Kuno was deeply unamused.

  As the Kappa noisily expired. Sura staggered away from the creature, tongue hanging out and looking ill.

  “Bleargh! That does it! I’m never drinking from anybody’s head ever again!”

  Kuno scowled over at the great lumpen green corpse lying in the weeds. He then glanced towards the dainty little white rat now peeking carefully out of cover.

  “Chiri san – what was that?”

  The rat cleared her throat in embarrassment, and bobbed her head in a bow.

  “Kuno san, I regret to say that we have been forced to decline an invitation to lunch.”

  The river flowed broad and sparkling between banks lined with wooded hills. Summer sunlight glittered from the waters, striking sparks that dazzled at the eye. The trees stirred softly to the river breeze: swallows swerved and darted across the shallows, hunting flies. Far off along the river road, a samurai in hunting dress rode merrily along, singing aloud, his straw hat and bow glowing in the sun.

  All the busyness of nature was held inside a haze of peace.

  A ferry crossed the river between two rocky shores. A hefty rope had been strung across fifty spans of water, and two ferrymen hauled a raft across the river hand-over hand. The ferrymen had a little hut beside the river that came complete with a fussing grandmother and a tangle of vegetable gardens. As the four Spirit Hunters came walking down the ferry path , the two ferrymen jumped up from their porch and came running over, bowing and filled with gratitude. The eldest of the two bowed profoundly to Kitsune Sura, and then to her companions.