And what of the spirits themselves, don’t they remember what it was like to be human? Don’t they worry for those they’ve left behind? Or do their memories, as Namgi implied, grow distant and hazy with time spent here in the Spirit Realm?
Outside a grand teahouse built over the canal, a crowd gathers, jostling one another to get a glimpse of our boat. I can’t be sure, but I think I see a boy with thick hair slip through the crowd, an infant strapped to his back.
“It’s true that the affairs of certain houses interest the spirits more than others,” Namgi continues blithely. “In the Sea God’s city, there are eight great houses, all of which serve the Sea God. Shin is the head of the most powerful house, the one that all the others look to for guidance and order. While houses like Spirit House protect the interests of spirits, and Tiger and Crane, soldiers and scholars, respectively, Lotus House protects the interests of the gods.”
“And the gods protect humans,” I say.
I know I’ve caught Shin’s attention when he slowly sits up, watching me closely. The boat dips in the water, and I grip the seat, bracing my feet on the wooden boards.
Perhaps I shouldn’t anger him. Our alliance—if I can even call it that—is tentative at best. But the sounds of merrymaking now grate upon my ears, raucous laughter and out-of-tune singing, and cutting through it all a loud and clear sound—the peal of a chime.
The boat rocks, bringing our bodies closer.
“Do you deny it, then,” I ask, “that gods are meant to protect humans?”
“I do deny it.” Shin’s voice is low, his words as merciless and cruel as they were in the Sea God’s hall. “Humans are fickle, violent creatures. Because they fear their own deaths, they are driven to war, scouring from the earth in seconds that which takes years to grow.”
“Only because death shadows them closely,” I retort. “Can you blame them, when death has no patience, slipping into their homes and stealing the breath from their children?”
“I can blame them,” he says, “just as you blame the gods for the follies of humans.”
“But it’s supposed to be a circle, isn’t it? The gods protect the humans, and the humans pray to and honor the gods.”
“That’s just like a human to think the world revolves around you, to think the rivers are for you, the sky, the sea is for you. You are just one of many parts of the world, and in my opinion, the one that blights them all.”
Namgi’s eyes dart between us. A few yards away, Kirin watches from his boat, drawn by our raised voices.
Slowly I look up, holding Shin’s gaze. “So you do protect the gods,” I say. “From humans.”
* * *
The rest of the boat ride is spent in silence, both of us leaning away from the other on the small bench. The canal flows into a larger body of water, and we leave the luminous buildings of the city behind us, traveling into darkness. Ahead, a bright light flares up in Kirin’s boat. Namgi follows suit, firing a torch that he hands to Shin.
Soon, I can’t see anything beyond the light of the torches. The darkness thickens. When I grip the edge of the boat, I find the wood dewed with mist. Then suddenly, I feel a great presence all around me, as if the air is weighted. Out of the darkness looms something huge, monstrous, as large as the dragon. Hundreds, thousands of them. I grip my knife and glance at Shin and Namgi, yet neither of them appears concerned. Then I look closer. The great objects are …
… trees.
They loom out of the water, seeming to rise up endlessly into the sky. The boat drifts too close to one, and Namgi kicks off the trunk, diverting our movement.
There’s a subtle vibration in the air, as if the trees are humming. We arrive at the edge of a great forest, much larger than the one within Lotus House, deeper and darker. The boat slows, skimming over pebbles. Before it comes to a stop, Shin’s already up, vaulting over the side.
“The mistress of Fox House lives here?” I ask, staring into the dark forest. I can’t make out a path through the dense thicket of trees. It’s as if no one has lived here for a thousand years. No human, at least.
“Yes,” Namgi says. He offers a hand to help me disembark. “A suitable habitat for a fox demon, don’t you think?”
I land in the shallow water and soak the hem of my skirt. Shin has joined with Kirin and the priestesses, and together they enter the forest. “You implied that it wouldn’t be wise to bring me to Fox House because their leader might … eat me.” I shudder. “But in my grandmother’s stories, fox demons are evil spirits that prey solely upon men.”