Falling Through Glass Page 8

  Shinjuku-san stood and brushed off the back of her kimono. “I need to round up those girls. They have a bit more work to do before dinner.” She grinned at Kaemon. “I trust it is safe to leave Emiko-chan alone with you?”

  “Absolutely safe,” he said, casting a look to Emmi that made her warm all over.

  It didn’t seem too terribly safe from where Emmi was sitting, but she wasn’t about to complain.

  The older woman left, and Kae extended his hand. Emmi took it and allowed him to help her up. He held on to her hand after she was on her feet, and Emmi stepped closer, wanting very much to kiss him again.

  “How did the meeting with your father go?”

  Kaemon shrugged. “As our meetings always do. He lectured me on my responsibilities, and I told him I would follow his wishes.”

  He let go of her hand.

  “I have a small errand to run. It won’t take long. I know Shinjuku-san will let you stay until I return.”

  “I can come with you.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “It won’t be safe for you. I need to see someone back in Shimabara.”

  “Oh,” Emmi answered flatly.

  Kaemon began to walk back toward the compound’s main building, and Emmi followed a few paces behind. She could imagine his business was of the sex variety with that hooker friend of his. Of course, that was none of her business. It wasn’t as if she owned him or was even involved with him. It certainly didn’t matter to her that he planned to go picking up sleazy women.

  “What are you going to do with me? Later, I mean,” she wondered aloud, suddenly feeling more lost and alone than she had since her bizarre arrival.

  Kaemon stopped short, and Emmi ran straight into him. The metal-tipped sheath of his sword caught her just above the knee, and she cried out.

  He turned. His dark and dangerous expression emphasized his scalding tone. “If you continue to walk beside me and on the left you’ll stick out more than you already do. And doing that will get you killed in Kyoto these days.”

  Emmi rubbed her knee and moved to his right. “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. I can’t help it if I stand out. I’m not from around here, remember?”

  “Walk behind me and to the right. Even women from Kaga aren’t as stupid as you appear.”

  “Well, I happen to be from Am—” Emmi stopped herself short. She knew enough about the period to understand that proclaiming herself one of the ‘barbarians’ everyone wanted to exterminate and expel from Japan was not a wise move.

  Kaemon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You are from where?”

  “A long, long way from here.”

  His harsh gaze drilled into her, reminding her far too much of the way he’d looked when he pulled the tanto on her earlier.

  “You need to get going to your appointment, don’t you?” she prodded.

  He said nothing before turning and walking away at a pace she hurried to match.

  * * * *

  “Really, Kae-sama,” Aneko said, placing her mirror back on the low chest in her quarters. “Are you so fascinated with the thought of a female oni that you wanted to try to conjure her?”

  “Of course not. I wanted to have that dent removed and have it polished as a gift to you, but I didn’t have the chance.”

  The prostitute slid her hand along Kae’s arm. “You are too good to me. You know, if you were to buy out my contract, I could secure a small house near the palace and be good to you and you alone.”

  Kae pulled away when she licked his neck.

  “I wouldn’t want to deprive your long-time customers of their favorite entertainment.”

  He went to the table across the room and poured himself some sake. He removed his swords and sat with his back against the wall.

  “What is the latest news you have heard from a distance?”

  “They’re just idle rumors so far. It can wait,” Aneko said.

  She came to him and undid the obi securing her embroidered red kimono. She dropped it to the tatami, then knelt before Kaemon and ran her hands up into the wide leg openings of his hakama.

  Kae grabbed her wrists. “Not tonight. I need to know what you found out.”

  “Fine.” Aneko closed the front of her kimono and sat back on her heels. “As I said, it is a rumor overheard by one of the kamuro, and those little wretches can’t really be trusted.”

  “What is it?”

  “A plan to burn Kyoto to the ground to prove how ineffectual the shogunate is in keeping the peace. The girl said she overheard a man while she was in the garden. He said, ‘If Japan can’t protect her people from the bad element from within, however will they succeed in protecting us from the barbarians waiting to devour us from without?’”

  Chapter Twelve

  The sun was fading when Emmi sat down to eat dinner with the twins and Shinjuku-san. Shinjuku-san’s husband looked at her even more suspiciously than Kae had. She didn’t want to lie to the man when he questioned her about her origins, since she sensed he had what Jake’s twin sister called ‘an inbred B.S. detector’.

  “My family is from Kaga. My father died in an accident almost a year ago. My mother and I don’t get along, so I was staying with my adopted uncle. I came here with him on business, but we were separated.” Emmi paused to sip tea. “Kae—Nakagawa-san found me and said he would help me.”

  Mr. Shinjuku simply nodded then finished his second bowl of rice.

  With her insides a jumble of nerves, Emmi could barely touch what was on her tray. She sensed that he still wasn’t quite buying her story, but what could she do? It was as close to the truth as she could get without them believing she was some freakish demon or, worse, some kind of spy.

  Mr. Shinjuku set down his bowl and caught her eye with his fierce gaze once again. “Your manner of speaking, your accent, does not sound as though you’re from Kaga.”

  Emmi shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I’ve always been ‘different.’ I suppose that’s why my mother hates me so…”

  Emmi wiped her eyes and bowed to the Shinjukus.

  “May I be excused? Please?” she asked.

  Shinjuku nodded, and Emmi went out to the side porch of the castle warden’s residential quarters. Emmi had thought she’d cried all the tears in the world when her father died, but apparently there were more. She gave in to the lingering grief while darkness settled over Nijo Castle.

  She sat in darkness for several minutes before her pity party was interrupted.

  “Emiko-dono?” the twins Chidori and Namiji said softly in unison just after Emmi dried the last of her tears.

  “Oh. Hello.” Emmi wiped her eyes once more. “You must think I’m silly.”

  “Oh, no,” Namiji said. “Our father died too.”

  “His new wife sold us to the brothel,” Chidori added.

  Sadness washed over Emmi again, this time for the girls. She had to blink the forming teardrops away when Kaemon appeared behind the twins. He smiled at her, and the sisters giggled. They hurried back inside the Shinjukus’ quarters, closing the sliding door firmly behind them.

  Emmi turned to look out toward the gardens. At least she hadn’t been wearing mascara and didn’t look like a raccoon. But jeez… Of all times to have puffy red eyes.

  The samurai settled down beside her on the porch. Kae placed his hand on the small of her back and rubbed it in a circle. Lightning shot through her.

  “Why were you crying?”

  Emmi faced him, offering a sheepish smile. “It’s nothing. Shinjuku-san asked about my family. My father died a few months back. I was missing him.”

  “One never gets over the death of a parent.” He jumped off the porch. “Walk with me.”

  Placing her hand in his, Emmi jumped down and told herself it was stupid, stupid, stupid to get so jittery inside. Especially when he came into close contact with her.

  “I know. Walk behind you and to the right,” Emmi said, scooting over to his other side.

  He laughed, tucked h
is arms into the sleeves of his haori, then led the way.

  Large paper lanterns had been lit and placed at various spots on the castle grounds. The lanterns reminded Emmi of a big anniversary party at her grandparents’ home in Hawaii. After the guests had gone and the caterers had cleaned up the mess, Emmi had joined her parents and grandparents out in the spacious back yard where the paper lanterns still hung.

  Her father had put away the party CDs and brought out what he deemed ‘make-out tunes’. Emmi had sat on the wide veranda and watched her parents and grandparents dance. How in love they all were! Emmi had wondered if she would ever find someone to look at her the way her father and grandfather looked at their wives.

  Fat chance of that now, her inner voice announced.

  Emmi knew that the worst-case scenario had her stuck here and signing herself into some house in Shimabara to keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach. Of course, some kindhearted family might adopt her, which would lend her some social status. Or, if they were merchants, perhaps they would offer her a job. Even then, her status wouldn’t be much.

  With the way things were headed for the samurai class, even if she could find patrons in one of their families, she ran the risk of a future of destitution anyway. If she happened to fall for a guy who was still affiliated with the shogunate when the current political climate turned to depose the Tokugawa regime, he would lose everything and they’d both be relocated to a desolate detention camp out of pure spite by the leaders of the winning side.

  That could be any day, in fact, unless her freaky time warp did something to screw up history. If it didn’t and events stayed the same, then this year was somewhere between 1863 and 1865, since Shinsengumi Vice-Commander Yamanami hadn’t been killed yet.

  Wrapped up in her thoughts, Emmi never noticed that Kaemon had stopped a few paces ahead. She ran into him yet again—her nose collided with his broad shoulder. Emmi rubbed her aching face.

  “Why do you do that?” she asked.

  “I did nothing. You are the one never paying attention to where you walk.”

  “Asshole,” Emmi said under her breath.

  He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer. “You spoke the barbarian words. Admit it. You spoke like the ’Merican sailors do.”

  Emmi swallowed and wracked her brain, grasping for Great-grandpa Maeda’s deathbed reminiscences.

  “Uhh…” Come on, think! “Um, to be honest some of my family traded with the Americans for guns—to stand with the shogun. Only because you can’t defeat the enemy unless you can match his might.”

  Kae stared down at her. With his left hand, he cupped her chin none too gently.

  “So you say.”

  He increased the pressure of his grip on her chin and shoulder as he riveted his gaze upon her even harder.

  “Tell me again.”

  “What? That some of my family traded with the Americans for weapons to fight when the shogun told them to?” A sick knot formed in her stomach. “You aren’t going to have my family charged with anything, are you? Oh, please don’t. Please.”

  Emmi placed her hands on Kae’s wrist. “You have to believe me. I don’t know about the rest of the clan, but I know that Maeda Takehito would sooner give up everything he owns and leave Japan forever than stand with anyone who would try to unseat the shogun or dare to try to control the emperor.”

  Kae released his hold on her then stepped back. “You realize that I have the means to have this looked into.”

  “I know that, but I don’t know if Grandfather Takehito will be willing to admit publicly that he’s breaking the law by trading illegally—even if it is in the best interest of his retainers, should they be called to war by the shogun.”

  Kae’s expression grew harsh, and he stepped closer. Emmi shrank back. “I know enough about Maeda Takehito to know that he isn’t old enough to have legions of grandchildren.”

  “No, but he has a son named Sadanori who will have a son in 1897 also named Takehito and that Takehito is—was—my great-grandfather, and when he was dying, he told me about this point in time.”

  Emmi held her breath, knowing that to voice this insane truth might very well make things far worse than they were. When she heard the sound of Kae’s katana sliding from its sheath, she closed her eyes and awaited her fate.

  Chapter Thirteen

  At the sound of other blades being drawn, Emmi opened her eyes to see four men surrounding them, circling like a pack of wolves eyeing their prey.

  And Emmi was very, very glad that both her father and Jake were fourth dan black belts. She just wished that she’d listened to them and stuck with it long enough to get past the lowly white belt. Of course, from the looks of this bunch, she and Kae were toast. These guys were mean and probably very skilled, judging from the way they held their swords as they closed in one by one.

  Kae broke the mounting tension. “The soba stall isn’t near here. Clearly, you scum are lost.”

  “We have no taste for noodles, boy, only tainted Imperial blood.”

  “They want me. Run,” Kae said over his shoulder.

  Suddenly all four men rushed at Kae and Emmi, and the world turned into a Kurosawa movie in fast forward. Battle cries and the clang of steel against steel filled the air. Emmi ducked out of the way of one assassin who jumped over her to get to Kae.

  Emmi picked herself up and sprinted back toward the castle, screaming for help, only to be seized around the neck by a burly arm that reached out from the cover of bushes.

  Coughing and choking, Emmi was dragged backward by the smelly assailant. Then he spun her to face the way she’d come.

  Splattered in blood and breathing hard, Kaemon stood amid the corpses of the dead assassins.

  The unknown man’s arm fell to her shoulders, and Emmi gasped for breath.

  Kae rushed forward. An instant later, a wakizashi was against her throat.

  “Drop it,” the man ordered.

  Kae let his sword fall and took a few steps closer.

  “And the other,” the man said.

  Kae dropped his own short sword.

  Emmi didn’t see the tanto tucked into Kae’s belt, but she was sure he had the dagger concealed somewhere.

  “Let the girl go,” he said, advancing slowly, his hands held out at his sides.

  The man laughed. “I’ll do that just long enough to kill you.”

  Emmi waited until the man lowered the sword from her throat. He pushed her aside, but she kept her balance and kicked his knee with all the force she could muster.

  Kae was on the man the instant he fell and plunged his tanto into the man’s heart.

  Emmi watched with grim fascination as he wiped the blood from his blade onto the dead man’s clothes—that was, until a bobbing light in the distance caught her eye.

  “There are more…” Emmi said.

  He turned to look over his shoulder. “It’s all right. They’re Tokugawa guards,” he assured her. He picked up his katana, shook off the blood, then sheathed the weapon. “Come with me.”

  Emmi followed. A chill skimmed down her spine as she stepped around the blood-soaked patches of ground surrounding the bodies of the first assassins. Nakagawa Kaemon, who couldn’t be that much older than she, was taking this all in stride, as though he’d done it before.

  A weird silence engulfed Emmi and she looked around, realizing that she could smell the scent of the dead men’s blood. Her stomach lurched and she ran for the cover of bushes, making it to their edge just before she heaved.

  She was on her knees after the spasms passed, and jumped when Kaemon knelt beside her. He gently rubbed her back, relaxing her.

  “Let’s get you back inside.”

  He helped her up, placed his hand around her shoulder, then tilted her chin up. His fingers brushed lightly across her neck. “The bastard cut you.”

  “No worse than you did when you thought I drugged you,” Emmi said, pulling away.

  Kae stepped into her path. “I’m
sorry.”

  “So you said.”

  Emmi brushed past him and started back toward the Shinjukus’ quarters.

  Kae wanted to be angry with her but couldn’t. In fact, he was more impressed than anything. She’d handled herself well tonight, better than most women would have. The way she’d brought the last man to his knees had been extraordinary. While he knew many women who could wield the spear-like naginata, he’d never known one who could use any type of kenpoist moves.

  Still, he doubted that the Maeda taught their women to fight like men.

  The Shinjukus were waiting outside for their arrival. Shinjuku-san’s wife took Emmi inside immediately, while Kae conferred with her husband.

  The older man dropped to his knees and bowed low. “Forgive me, Nakagawa-sama. The guards will be censured for not catching them the moment they breached the walls. If any of them is found to have been an accomplice, he’ll be dealt with severely. I will inform the Shoshidai of my failure myself. I will commit seppuku if so ordered.”

  “Matsudaira-sama will not order that. I will speak to him. The men were after me specifically. They must have followed me, and probably were following me a long time to have found a way to sneak in between patrols.”

  Shinjuku-san looked up. “But who would be after you?”

  “Anyone wanting to distract my father long enough to harm the emperor.”

  Shinjuku gasped and stood, stepping in close enough to whisper, “You don’t think someone would try to harm him, do you?”

  “I think the rebels will do anything to overthrow the shogun and attempt to assume control. Anything.” He paused and glanced down at his bloodied clothing. “Could I trouble you for a bath and something to wear? I can’t go home looking like this.”