When he attempted to turn right, Yumi jerked his arm to the left. “This way.”

Kenshin did not question her. They continued to fly across the packed earth. The length of silk Yumi had wrapped around her head blew into Kenshin’s face, disorienting him.

He did not see her twist around to knock him off his feet until it was too late.

When Kenshin came to, he almost laughed. The knot on his head throbbed. His wrists were bound at his back. He sat in a darkened space that smelled of hay and dried dung. A horse stall from the look of it.

The point of the knife in his back did not surprise him. In truth, Kenshin hoped for precisely this outcome when he first set out to follow Yumi. He’d wanted her to lead him into a trap, so that he could meet face-to-face with the warrior who’d trained her. Kenshin had suspicions as to her teacher’s identity.

And now it would finally be revealed.

“You have my attention, Lord Kenshin,” a male voice growled from behind him. “What is it you want?”

“You’ve been busy, Lord Ranmaru,” Kenshin shot back. “Especially for a boy who recently escaped the claws of death.”

Laughter emanated nearby as a wooden gate slid open. Yumi crossed toward them, a smile curling up one side of her face.

“Let the fierce Dragon of Kai go,” she said. “After all, he did rescue me.”

“Then I suppose my thanks are in order,” the gruff voice replied.

Kenshin could hear the boy’s amusement. The sound infuriated him. After Kenshin had assisted him that night beneath the castle—against his better judgment—this foul boy thought it wise to taunt him?

Insolent swine.

As soon as Kenshin’s bonds were cut, he staggered to his feet. Yumi waved her small blade beneath his chin as a warning. His nostrils flaring, the Dragon of Kai whirled around to come face-to-face with …

… a boy who was not the son of Takeda Shingen.

“Where is Takeda Ranmaru?” Kenshin demanded, looking about. “Where is the leader of the Black Clan?”

The boy standing before him with the broad forehead and toothsome grin crossed his arms. Bowed with a flourish. “I’d like to make a deal with you. I will bring you the leader of the Black Clan.” He paused as if in consideration. “In chains, if you like.”

“In exchange for what?”

“You will send for your sister. She and I have important matters to discuss.”

Kenshin glowered at him. “Who the hell do you—”

“Tell Mariko the nightbeast needs to see her. Now.”

Unmoored

Mariko leapt from the jinrikisha, still garbed in her court finery, her feet flying as they raced toward Yumi’s okiya.

A message had been delivered to Prince Raiden earlier this evening. Hattori Kenshin’s condition had worsened following his drunken altercation in Hanami.

The beast of night had overtaken him.

It had been the work of an instant for Mariko to understand the message’s hidden meaning. Immediately she’d asked Raiden to allow her to leave the castle so she might tend to her brother’s needs, but her new husband had advised against it. Though the imperial troops had managed to keep the districts nearest to the city center free of looters, he did not think it wise to test their bounds. Only this morning, he’d admitted to Mariko that his brother’s warriors functioned without direction. Absent the wisdom of a leader at their back.

It appeared nothing could drive the emperor to take action on behalf of his people. Not even the threat of losing the imperial city. The death of Roku’s mother had taken a heavy toll on him. Any protections put in place over the last few days had all been installed at the quiet behest of Raiden. And he would be unlikely to receive praise for it from his brother. Roku was still furious that Raiden had failed to apprehend Takeda Ranmaru. Even more furious that they were now confined to the castle, delaying the possibility of his vengeance even further. Mariko knew—at any instant—that the emperor could fly into an inexplicable rage. Lash out at anyone without reason.

But it was worth the risk of going to Hanami against her husband’s advice.

Tsuneoki—the beast of night—was waiting at the teahouse to speak with her.

After Raiden had forbidden her from leaving the castle grounds, Mariko had gone to see his mother. Mariko had relayed the sad tale of Kenshin’s recent misfortune, and Kanako had agreed to help her. Indeed she’d almost delighted in the chance to subvert the wishes of her son. With an easy smile, Kanako had led Mariko to an enchanted maru and shown her how to enter and exit the castle grounds without being noticed. She’d warned Mariko to return soon. Before Raiden realized his wife had gone missing.

Mariko rapped her knuckles against the gate of Yumi’s okiya. As soon as her fist touched the wood, Kirin slid open the bolt to allow Mariko entrance.

“Where is he?” she asked the maidservant without preamble. She dropped her voice. “Where is the nightbeast?”

Kirin bowed. “Please come with me, my lady.”

Mariko removed her zori, and they glided through a courtyard lit on all four corners by hanging lanterns fashioned of hammered copper, toward the sliding doors leading to Yumi’s personal bedchamber.

The moment she heard his gentle laughter, Mariko raced toward Tsuneoki and threw her arms around his neck. As soon as she’d done so, her face turned hot. She tried to pull away—after all, warriors did not show their emotions in such an exuberant manner—but Tsuneoki laughed again and held her tightly.

“Why did you come to Inako?” she asked him in an urgent whisper. “Every imperial guard in the city will be on the lookout for you. If you are caught, the emperor will—”

“I’ve heard.” Tsuneoki grinned. “He will set fire to all I love and force me to watch as he murders my grandmother, my sister, my aunts, my cousins, anyone I hold dear.”

Yumi arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should not be so flippant with a threat against my life.”

“I’ve never been flippant with your life.” Tsuneoki crossed his arms.

“So you say,” Yumi muttered.

Pain crossed Tsuneoki’s features. But he said nothing. It was strange for Mariko to witness this exchange. Strange for her to see the elegant maiko take on the role of a disgruntled younger sister. A role Mariko knew all too well. Tsuneoki inhaled with care as he considered his sister’s expressionless face. Then he sighed and turned back to Mariko.

“Thank you for coming here so quickly,” he began. “I need to speak with you about a plan we’ve devised.”

“We?” Mariko glanced about.

“Ōkami and I.”

Her pulse took flight. “Is he—”

“Ōkami wanted to come, but his injuries were too severe.” When Tsuneoki saw the look on Mariko’s face, he squeezed her hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. He is on the mend and just as irritating as ever.”

Mariko took a step back. “I … understand.” Disappointment caused her shoulders to sag. She rebelled against it, forcing herself to stand tall. “What matters do you need to discuss with me?”

“Through Yumi’s contacts here at the okiya, we’ve established communication with a senior advisor to the emperor. A man who has fond recollections of a time when Takeda Shingen protected the people of Wa. I wish to ask for your help in delivering him a message.” Tsuneoki hesitated. “But it could be dangerous, Mariko. I want to warn you. There is no telling how the emperor might react if he learns of your involvement.”

Mariko did not need to think twice. “Tell me what you need me to do, and I will do it.”

Tsuneoki smiled. “I knew you would.” He crooked his lips to one side, as though he were still weighing his next words.

“Is there something else you wished to discuss with me?” Mariko asked.

“Your brother would like to speak to you.”

Mariko shook her head. “No. Tell Kenshin I wish him well. But I have no intention of seeing him. Nothing he could do or say would compel me otherwise.”

At the harshness of Mariko’s pronouncement, Yumi frowned. Tsuneoki’s features turned circumspect. He said, “If I may, I think Lord Kenshin is—”