Warning! Here Be Spoilers.

The following are scenes waiting to be slotted into place. They are here for word count, because they are being written during World Ember, but they are not by any means finished. You'll have more enjoyment elsewhere, probably!

Tsurugu no Kiyomori frowned at the enormous boulder before him. “It looks tight,” he supposed aloud. “Is my lord certain he wishes to try?” “I am a pilgrim, and I mean to be a good one.” Naka no Yoritomo drew a breath and tugged at his kimono, pulling tight any loose fabric that could snag and trap him. Before them, the gap in the boulder was shadowed. Both men knew there was a worn passage through the stone; neither could see through it. “At least, do not go first,” Tsurugu advised. “There might be snakes in the passage. Kaworu, go ahead of the tono.” Kaworu gave his master a quick glance, but he said nothing. Beside him, Murame started to reach for arm, perhaps alarmed by the suggestion of snakes, but she caught herself in time. Kaworu stepped forward, his face tight as he looked at the boulder. “I’ll go,” offered another voice. This was Hira, a Minamoto servant. He stepped in front of Kaworu, his tall, lean frame blocking the youth. “I’m not afraid.” Kaworu’s lips thinned, and he moved to follow Hira. Tsurugu suspected he was biting back a rebuttal and finding it difficult; Kaworu did not speak aloud while he was among people, and as he aged Tsurugu thought he was regretting the decision. The group was large, stretching down the mountain trail behind him. They had come together only this morning, and after ritual bathing in the river, Naka no Yoritomo and Minamoto no Tadanari had joined with their retainers and servants to begin the pilgrimage. There were at least three dozen people waiting on the steep slope in addition to the daimyō’s inner circle beside the boulder, and Tsurugu was already, only a couple of hours in, beginning to chafe with the tedious pace of moving in so large a group. And this exercise would consume even more time. The Tainai Kuguri, or passing through the womb, was a test of a faith and a symbol of rebirth on the holy route to the shrines. Yet it was a tight squeeze, and in the time it took several dozen people to complete the passage, Tsurugu could take a nap—assuming, of course, he was not disturbed by the cries of anyone who found himself stuck. Hira slipped into the crevice and crawled ahead. He was slim enough, it would be little challenge for him. He was actually a good choice, to give confidence to those who would follow. Kaworu waited just long enough for Hira’s feet to clear, and then he wriggled in headfirst after him. “Once they’ve cleared the passage of any leaves or debris,” Naka-dono said with a smile, “would you care to be the first through, my lord?” Minamoto no Tadanari had just opened his mouth to speak when a yelp came from within the boulder. Tsurugu jerked his head around; he knew Kaworu’s voice, if most didn’t. Murame fixed her eyes on him with an unspoken question, but she stayed where she was. Hira slid out of the boulder and straightened with a triumphant grin. “Masters, it is clear,” he declared. “What was that sound?” Minamoto asked. Hira looked around behind him and shrugged. “Maybe he thought he saw a snake after all.” But of course there would be no snake in the passage after Hira had squeezed through, and so the group was chuckling as Kaworu emerged, his eyes a little wide and his jaw set irritably. He returned to his place beside Murame and occupied himself checking the pack he had left there. Naka-dono gestured Minamoto-dono ahead, and the group began to assemble in a sort of line to take their turns. Tsurugu went to stand on Murame’s other side. “Are you going to pass through the womb?” She gave a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t like tight places.” Tsurugu made a show of tipping his head back and forth in mock consideration. “Perhaps you should venture it. It is a test of faith, after all. And it’s said that a woman who succeeds here will be blessed with easy childbirth.” Murame made a small sound, something between a snort and a laugh and a gasp of indignation. Kaworu kept his eyes forward, but his jaw flexed a little. Tsurugu looked back at Minamoto no Ito, standing a little distance away and completely veiled from view. This lady was the reason for their pilgrimage; Ito-dono wanted to visit the Sanzan, the three great shrines of Kumano, and Minamoto no Tadanari had recruited Naka no Yoritomo for her safety. Now she was dressed for travel, with a wide hat and circular veil concealing her entire form. She stood a little apart from Kaede-dono, Naka no Yoritomo’s wife who had come to keep Ito-dono company on the trip. Murame might have dressed as a great lady, too, Tsurugu mused. She had married a fine husband and was now a princess among his people. Here among humans, however, she was only a peasant girl raised to servanthood in a great house. She did not complain, at least not where Tsurugu could hear. He thought she knew more of being a servant than a princess. He could have sent Kaworu back to his father and so released both of them, but he was still charged with educating Kaworu, which was simpler when they were together. More, he thought that as much as Kaworu missed his brother, he did not miss seeing Genji trained for the succession while Kaworu was left behind. Minamoto no Tadanari was at last successful, and his retainers dutifully cheered as he emerged. Naka no Yoritomo went next. It was not often that such great men were seen wriggling on their bellies. One of Naka-dono’s ashigaru had to be pulled out again by his feet, to the delight of all. One of the Minamoto men declined to attempt the passage, which by the spread of his shoulders was a wise decision. At last Naka-dono turned to Tsurugu. “You have not yet completed the test! Go ahead, Tsurugu-san.” Tsurugu had done it before, but that was a fact which he would not reveal here. He nodded and went to the starting place. “Any bets on the onmyōji?” someone said from the rear, and several men laughed. “I don’t think he’s a man of action. He’ll be slow, at best.” Tsurugu bent forward and dove headfirst into the gap. Once safely out of sight, he shed his man-form and slid smoothly down the passage, bending easily where it curved. As he reached the floor, he changed again from fox to man and crawled forward, smiling in triumph at his rapid success. They cheered him, and at least one of Naka’s men collected a bet from a Minamoto retainer. When it came time for the women, Naka-dono waved the soldiers ahead, ostensibly to scout the trail but in fact to spare the women more spectators as they maneuvered ungracefully into the passage. Kaede-dono laughed at her awkwardness, her rich chuckles echoing from the gap as she struggled around the bend. Ito-dono made almost no sound, only grunting a bit as she squeezed into the gap. Her maid took the hat and veil at the last moment, leaving only ankles and geta visible as Ito-dono pulled herself into the passage, and when at last Ito-dono emerged—after a long, harrowing moment—the maid was already in the opening, shielding her mistress from view as she arranged the hat. The veil fell into place as Ito-dono straightened. Well, it was to be expected. Ito-dono would be a prize wife for some fortunate retainer, and preserving her mystery could only add to the prestige of the match. Murame followed the ladies, and Tsurugu suppressed a smile as she kicked herself into the passage. He glanced at Kaworu. Aside from some targeted splashing during their ritual ablutions in the river that morning, Kaworu was doing an excellent job of appearing neutral toward Murame and not betraying their relationship to the household. Tsurugu would find an excuse to give them time together. Their marriage was too young for the endless scrutiny of a crowded pilgrimage and the necessary pretended indifference. Although…it might be possible to permit a relationship among the servants. Kaede was a married woman; she could allow marriage to a maid. Murame emerged with dust on her hands and in her hair but with a broad smile on her face. “I made it,” she panted to no one in particular, and she smoothed her clothing back into place. The day was well advanced when at last they started again, and Tsurugu almost breathed a sigh of relief when they finally passed the Chichi Iwa, or the “milk rock” where Fujiwara Hidehara had left his newborn son during his own pilgrimage and where the child was suckled by wolves until his parents’ return.






“What about this onmyōji, then?” The big man advanced on Tsurugu, elbows slightly to the side and arms bent, like a monkey trying to pick a fight. “I can take care of him.” “Have a care,” Tsurugu cautioned. The big man who was not a man laughed, and in the lamplight his teeth looked like tusks. “I’m not afraid of onmyōji. We’ve seen many, and they’re useless without their tools and toys.” He slapped the lacquered box from Kaworu’s hands, smashing it to the ground, and a spray of teardrop-shaped magatama spilled free. “Now what are you going to do, onmyōji? Without your papers and charms?” Tsurugu’s hand struck like a snake, catching the big man by the throat and throwing him to the ground as if he was a ripe squash. The man grunted as he struck. Tsurugu stepped forward, slowly, unhurried. He crossed his arms, unthreatened. “It’s true,” he said laconically, “I do prefer my spells and charms. I’ve worked hard for them, and it feels satisfying to use them. But I am not useless without them.” Murame was staring, and Kaworu followed her eyes. Behind Tsurugu, though he was still in human form, the ghostly image of a tail was forming. “They merely offer advantages, such as being able to bind without brutality.” The bold man was wiping blood from his lips and rolling to face Tsurugu’s advance. His expression had given way wholly to apprehension. Another ghostly tail had appeared, and then another. “When I must forego my spells and charms,” Tsurugu continued, “I cannot be sure that I will not overstep and do more than what is needed.” His teeth were sharp now. “And sometimes I err.” He placed a foot on the big man’s shoulder. Five tails were visible behind him, and another was forming. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean…” “You did.” Tsurugu looked down at him disdainfully. “You meant exactly what you said, until the moment you realized it had gotten you into trouble. No one is fooled by your late apology from the ground.” The big man was trying to retreat, pushing against the ground, but Tsurugu’s foot held him in place. “And because no one is fooled by your apology, you will make it more clear.” Tsurugu lifted his foot and gave the shoulder a little dig, rolling him. “You will bow and apologize to those you have offended.” “Onmyōji-sama—” “Not to me,” Tsurugu corrected him sharply. “I am not harmed by your whining threats.” He gestured toward Murame. “Start by apologizing to her.” This was too much for the man, and his mouth twisted. “I need not kowtow to a servant—” Tsurugu shoved his palm against the air, and the man flattened to the ground with a whoosh of lost breath. A seventh tail rose with the others, all dangerously high in warning. Tsurugu snarled, “You will apologize to Murame-hime, or I will spell an apology out for you with strips of your flesh.” If he was surprised at the honorific, he did not waste time in expressing it. He pushed himself to his knees, wheezing, and lowered his head to the ground. “I beg your forgiveness, hime-sama. This fool regrets his words. Please accept my humblest apology.”