“You believe this boy is responsible for Father’s death?” Raiden asked.

Roku did not answer. Merely shrugged off his half brother’s hand.

“This is beneath you, Roku.” Raiden’s voice was soft.

The young emperor arched a brow as though in warning.

A smile curved up one side of Raiden’s face. “My sovereign,” he amended, shifting back to bow.

“It is never beneath a true leader to face his enemy.” Roku took another step downward, his brother raising a torch to illumine the way. The light danced across the timber-bound stones. “I wish to look upon the face of Takeda Shingen’s only son and learn what kind of blood flows through his veins. What kind of fear lurks behind his eyes.” His smile was strangely serene, like ice braced against a howling wind.

Raiden followed closely, his attempts to marshal both his words and his thoughts all too apparent. “If you don’t believe him responsible for Father’s death, why must you know anything about him? Simply end him and be done with it.”

“I never said I believed him innocent, brother. The boy emerged from hiding within days of the emperor’s untimely death.”

“A coincidence. We drew him out of the forest.”

“I do not believe in coincidences.” A moment passed in silence before Roku spoke again. “Do you remember the water obelisk Father brought back for us from the west when we were small?”

“The device that reflected the time of day? It broke two days later. We were both punished for it.”

“It did not break. I took it apart.”

Raiden paused in consideration. “You wished to see how it worked?”

“Perhaps.” Roku met his elder brother’s gaze. “Or perhaps I wished to know what lay at its core.”

“You enjoyed breaking it, then.”

“Never something quite so infantile, brother.” Roku laughed softly. “I find it easier to control something when it is in pieces. The Black Clan, the son of Takeda Shingen, any enemy who would see our family fail …” His voice drifted into nothingness as he took another step down.

Raiden sighed, his frustration winning out. “Takeda Ranmaru is not your enemy. Believe me when I say the lore has bloated the boy’s reputation far past reason.” His lips curled into a sneer. “He has lived in the forest among drunken peasants for the better part of a decade. He’s a thief and a wastrel. Nothing more.”

Like a whip from the darkness, Roku’s words lashed from his lips. “That wastrel is the son of the man who thwarted our father and defied our family for years. Lord Shingen led the last uprising in our land.”

“That does not mean his son will amount to anything. I bested him without even once raising a sword in his direction.” The torch in Raiden’s right hand flared as a gust of acrid air blew around them.

Undeterred, Roku continued, his smile once more composed. “I’ve said this before, but your arrogance does not serve you well, brother.”

“Your curiosity here will not serve you well either, my sovereign,” Raiden said. “Allow me to simply kill him. Let us be done with him, quickly and quietly.”

Roku linked his hands behind his back. “Even if he proves innocent, a spectacle should be made of his death.”

“Very well, then. We can drown him in Yedo Bay. Upside down, as Father did with Asano Naganori. Or stretch him from the ramparts until his arms split from his sides.”

“Eventually,” Roku agreed. “But not yet. It does nothing to merely chop down a weed. One must tear it out by the roots.” He closed his eyes as though the motion would clear his mind. Lend clarity to his thoughts. “This was the mistake our father made. He did not wish to unearth the seed of Takeda Shingen’s discord. He did not take the time to reduce his enemy to pieces, and it resulted in his death.” His eyes flashed open as a shadow fell across his face, like storm clouds gathering over a lake. “I will be a better emperor than our father. I will find every last one of these weeds and tear them out by their very roots.” He spoke the last softly, in a voice tinged with menace.

When Raiden replied, it was with great care. “Perhaps you are right, my sovereign. No one can deny that the Takeda family has been a problem, ever since Lord Shingen questioned our father’s designs for the empire.” He inhaled through his nostrils. “But perhaps if we learn to control his son—or even sway him to our side—it could be possible to do what our father failed to do, and unite our land.”

Roku considered his brother as though he were considering a foolish child. One for whom he held fond feelings. “Unite our land?” His features hardened for an instant, a caustic laugh bursting from his lips. “I know where my strengths lie. Do you?”

“My strengths are in serving and protecting my sovereign.” A cold light sparked in Raiden’s eyes. “And enacting vengeance on those who seek to destroy us.”

“If you wish to protect me, brother, you must learn how to exert control over those around you.” Roku took an apprising breath. “Vengeance will come in time. Control is what I seek. Fear will be my weapon.”

Understanding settled onto Raiden’s face. “You wish to control Takeda Ranmaru through fear.”

Roku nodded. “First we must give him reason to fear—not about something as simple as death. Something deeper. And that task begins with the mind. If I wish for the people of Wa to respect me without question, this must be my course of action.”

Raiden paused in thought. “You are concerned your people will not respect you? They will, because you are their heavenly sovereign. It is their duty and your right.”

“No, brother.” Roku shook his head. “Respect is not a thing granted. It is a thing earned.” With that, he quickened his stride over the last few stone steps and glided to a halt. Allowing time for his eyes to adjust, he began murmuring to a wall of darkness before him.

Like a ghost, a man emerged from the reaches beyond. Between his skeletal hands rested a small wooden trunk, bound in bars of dull iron. At first glance, the iron seemed to be marred by rust, but the hint of something far more sinister pervaded the air, like the scent of copper left too long in the rain. The man bowed, his cowl falling lower across a forehead peppered with burn marks. Without a word, Roku motioned for the hooded man to follow him.

Raiden lingered, his features caught in turmoil. He glanced about at the darkness before him, then turned toward the remaining light at his back, his gaze catching on signs of motion near the top of the stairs.

The flowing figure of his mother passed beneath a haze of torch fire. She stopped when she saw him, her head tilted to one side, her unbound hair an inky waterfall over one shoulder. Without a word, she bent the wisps of smoke from the nearby torch between her palms, rolling her fingers in a slow circle. Shapes began to form at her command. They solidified in the firelight and came to life as she blew a soft stream of air their way, sending them wafting toward her son.

A wily vermin being crushed beneath the hooves of a massive ox.

Raiden frowned at his mother. When he was younger, his mother’s magic had entranced him. With it, she’d brought stories to life in ways other boys could only dream of. Her magic had granted him solace from the judgment of others at court. It had been a reason for the nobles to show him a measure of respect, despite the circumstances of his birth.

This fear of his mother’s magic had been a form of control, for magic was a rarity. And magic like that of his mother? Rarer still. Granted once in a generation, by the spirits of a world lost for countless lifetimes.

It was a magic he did not possess. A magic Raiden had once tried to understand, only to discover he never could, for he was not meant to wield it.

He had not been blessed with talent.

Irritation passed across his features. He’d been right to rebuff his mother’s counsel. After only a moment of hesitation, Raiden followed in his emperor’s footsteps, his back turned from the magic that had saved him as a child.

Kanako watched her only son disappear into the darkness below. A deep pang unfurled behind her heart. It writhed through her chest and nestled in her stomach, a slithering eel lurking in the reeds, ever present.