Caught in the Devils' Hand Read online

  Chapter Nine

  Shumei woke with a jerk the next morning, hearing a faint rustling that quickly stopped when she moved. Softly moaning because of a slight headache and a parched throat, she began to sit up, careful not to rouse her brother, still asleep in front of her. The sun was yet an hour from rising, but she had slept enough. She needed to make breakfast for Oka and herself before they went to the medicine fields today.

  Having sat up, she looked down at Oka, now lying on his back, the blanket somehow still tucked around him. His chest rose and fell slowly as he slept and she hated to start making noises that would undoubtedly wake him. Looking around the room to delay standing up, her eyes fell on a small bundle sitting just inside their flimsy reed door.

  It was wrapped with a brown cloth that looked a bit worn, and she was certain that she had never seen it before. Confused, she got up and, having forgotten that she now had boots, stepped onto the dirt floor with her bare feet. Lowering herself to squat, she lightly touched the package, thinking hard about where it might have come from. She was still only half-awake, after all.

  Deciding to unwrap it, she pulled at the knot in the cloth and swept aside the edges. Inside sat several small bundles, four in total, and she picked one up, which was light and only about the size of two hands pressed flat together. It was very tightly wrapped in the same brown cloth, and she unwrapped it, gasping to find what she had rarely had the privilege of eating—meat.

  It was deer meat, judging by the color, cut into very thin strips and cooked as jerky. There was only enough for one or two days if she and Oka shared the meat at every meal, but she wasn’t sure how long jerky kept anyway, no matter how tightly it was wrapped to keep open air away.

  “What is it?” a sleepy voice asked, and she turned to her brother, who sat on his ankles on the mat where he had been sleeping. Lifting a strip of deer jerky for his sleepy contemplation, she gave him the smallest of smiles.

  “Want to eat some meat for breakfast?”

  Chapter Ten

  She had perhaps three hours of daylight to spend before the sun would set, and the day’s labors were almost over. She had finished weeding the main field after only two hours and had spent the next three planting the spring crop of Numbing Kava Kava. It was used in very small quantities for general body aches, especially for women experiencing menstrual pain, or in larger quantities for those who would need it to forego the pain of passing away. It was the popular medicine to buy lately and she would need all the income she could scrape together.

  Her midday meal of rice, fresh, leafy vegetables and a good helping of deer jerky sat warm in her stomach, even though she didn’t really need the extra warmth since the day was turning out to be rather humid. It didn’t help matters that her dress was black and sucked in every extra ray of sunshine.

  She looked up briefly from the shallow hole she had dug in front of her, and found Oka at the edge of the field, shouting distance away. In his small hands, he held his version of a sword—or what she called a big stick. Slashing at invisible enemies, his face was serious and contemplative as he tested different moves and stances.

  She might have thought he was merely playing hero with that wooden sword, but his serious expression and complete reticence told her that he was actually practicing for something real. Her face reflected her sober thoughts as she realized how much of his own childhood Oka had missed. He didn’t laugh and breed mischief like the other village boys, nor did he smile and tease any of the girls. He was quickly becoming an adult at the tender age of nine.

  A drop of sweat was beginning to roll down her temple, and she resisted the urge to wipe at it since her fingers were caked with soggy dirt. Though the sun had risen unhindered by clouds—even the puffy white kind—the ground was still sticky and wet from the unrelenting rains in the past few days. In an effort to keep her dress clean, she had brought along the brown cloth that had been wrapped around the jerky to lie on the ground and protect her shins as she kneeled in the dirt.

  Looking down at her work again, she pulled two large seeds from the pouch slung around her torso and pressed them into the bottom of the hole, careful to make sure that the fatter end of the tear-shaped seeds was facing up. This would be the last hole, and then she and Oka could go home, eat a hearty supper and go to sleep early.

  Tossing her head to fling her hair out of her way, she began to carefully spill dirt back into the hole, packing it loosely and sprinkling the occasional handful of plant feed, a mixture of strange ingredients that her mother had taught her long ago.

  Just as she was about to brush her hands off and stand up, an unsettling dizziness upset her balance for a few seconds, and she had to catch herself on her hands to keep from falling into the row of Soothing Rosemary next to her, which was also popular recently as a stomachache remedy.

  The nausea had not come this morning, for which she had been grateful, but after that and Vallen’s Binding spell, she wasn’t sure what her body was doing anymore. Bracing her hands on the rich, black soil that would sprout Numbing Kava Kava in a couple of months, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe slowly as the dizziness swirled around inside her head.

  It felt like something alive was moving inside of her, slowly undulating as if stretching after a long nap. She could feel it brush against her heart, the bulk of its weight sitting solidly in her stomach, and it wasn’t deer jerky that now warmed her body but a deep, tingly throb that felt along her insides as if exploring.

  The sensation was disturbing and comforting at the same time.

  “Ah, Shumei!” a familiar voice called. Lifting her head as if moving through water, she looked to Oka, who had stopped practicing and was looking to her right as he watched a third person approach their fields. Swallowing heavily, she turned her head in the direction of the voice she had heard, her vision swinging slower than the rest of her body. Her eyes settled upon the tall, wide-shouldered form of her pock-faced neighbor’s only son Akiji.

  She heard small feet begin to run and knew that Oka had dropped his wooden sword to be by his sister’s side. She watched as Akiji advanced, and managed to summon the concentration to stand shakily.

  Her hands were still covered with globs of dirt, and she reached down to wipe her fingers on a well-worn rag hanging from her belt. It was what she always used to clean the dirt off her hands and after being washed countless time, it was thin and flimsy with use. The pouch of Numbing Kava Kava seeds still sat against her side, but she didn’t bother to remove it. Akiji finally closed the distance, stopping an arm’s length away, and Oka stopped about thirty feet from the two of them.

  “Working hard, I see. I wanted to talk to you,” he explained, setting his hands on his hips as he struck a pose.

  “Then speak, Akiji,” she said, her formalities gone now that no one but Oka watched. Akiji’s mouth twitched as if something had annoyed or amused him. She couldn’t tell which.

  “I have it on good authority that you somehow obtained a generous amount of deer meat, but Ryoushi says that you did not purchase any from him, nor did you even ask for it before his weekly hunt,” he said, his voice very mild, as though speaking of the fair weather. Ryoushi was the village’s hunter, and though he couldn’t leave the village before dawn to be in position for deer hunting, when the sun rose, he still managed to kill enough wildlife for those who could afford the meat he sold every week. It had been a long time since Shumei had purchased anything from him.

  She didn’t know how to respond. First, she didn’t know how anyone could have found out. The only way was if Akiji had actually entered their hut without permission and gone poking around. She had known almost immediately that Vallen had killed and prepared the meat for her—had even delivered it. The meat had been left at her home before dawn, and no one else would dare to leave his hut at night, even if the village grounds were considered safe from the nightly monsters.

  That had been the most shocking part, though—Vallen had passed the barrier charms, and that
made something about him both unique and powerful compared to the other demons that tried to enter the village.

  Instead of trying to explain, which would out her secret immediately, she decided to ask him her own question.

  “What are you trying to say, Akiji?”

  “Who gave you that meat, Shumei? I know you didn’t kill the deer yourself. You have no hunting skills, no weapons for hunting and you don’t have the strength to drag a deer anywhere suitable for field-dressing the body.”

  “Why should I tell you who gave it to me? Is it any of your business?”

  “As a man who would be your husband, I have a right to ask!” he said, exasperated and letting his impatience show. “Though giving you things is not bad itself, the way you might repay someone for these things is what worries me. I don’t believe for a second that the dress you now wear came from your mother,” he accused.

  He was quickly becoming more and more annoying than he had ever been in the past. It was time that she pushed back a little more than just saying “no”. Apparently, the cold shoulder wasn’t enough to dissuade him this time.

  “For the hundredth time, I will not marry you,” she responded, her voice reflecting his exasperation. Taking a calming breath, she continued, “My refusal negates any right you think you have to know my personal affairs.”

  “You will be my wife, Shumei!” he spat, his face twisting with sudden rage. Her body flinched at his sudden display of anger, and she felt her shoulders start to curve into themselves. “Now tell me who gave you the dress and meat!”

  She knew her face betrayed her this time, for she couldn’t hold back her surprise at his temper. Normally, he acted like a petulant child when she rebuffed him, throwing a mild temper tantrum or pretending to suck it up and walk away.

  The violence in his reaction today was very unsettling.

  “N-no.” Though it was exactly the wrong thing to say, there was no other answer she could give. If she even hinted at Vallen’s existence, she might lose her home, or her brother or both.

  Akiji fairly boiled with anger. His fists were tightly clenched, and his wide stance radiated frustration.

  “You’ll be no one’s whore but mine!” he declared. His hands shot to her shoulders and clamped down, his grip painfully tight. She gasped in surprise as he dragged her to him, not expecting him to resort to physical violence in front of Oka. Her heartbeat was suddenly in her head, loud and thundering, or rather, it was a different kind of roar, like a deep, pulsating hum. It rose inside her, becoming louder as her ears lost some of their hearing, like they were being stuffed with cotton.

  “Shumei!” Oka cried out, running toward her. His voice sounded very far away, and his footsteps sounded so slow, as if he were walking leisurely without a single care.

  Time was slowing down, and Akiji pulled her very close, his hands squeezing even tighter. His face swept close to steal a kiss, but it seemed like she had all the time in the world to dodge his lips. She braced her hands on his chest, trying to break free from his impossibly strong grip before her bargain with Vallen was broken after only a few days. Preparing to shove him away with all of her might, she screamed, “Get away from me!” Something inside of her surged to life, swelling within her stomach and stealing her breath as her arms seized up. Hot energy seared through her veins, and she felt her biceps flex. Wind rushed over her head as time resumed its normal speed and, as if someone had pulled the cotton out of her ears, the sounds of the forest pressed close against her eardrums. The chirping of birds, the rush of the breeze through the newly grown leaves…

  Akiji was gone, having been shoved far away, and he landed on his rear with a pained yell. Oka was only an arm’s length away from her, having stopped dead in his tracks, and he was looking at her rather than at Akiji, who was stumbling to his feet and cursing wildly.

  “What did you do, sister?” he asked softly, his eyes wide and his mouth open. She looked down at her hands, slowly turning them up to look at her palms. Her hands were still dirty, still small and weak. She shouldn’t have been able to do that.

  Akiji was looking at her as if she had sprouted warts all over her face—horrified and a bit disgusted. She wanted to say something but didn’t know what—certainly not an apology, but she was just as confused as he looked.

  Without a word, he turned and ran back toward the village, sparing a single glance over his shoulder before disappearing amongst the thick trees lining the path.

  “Is it because of him? Did he do that to you?” Shumei didn’t have to ask who “he” was. She put her hands down and turned to Oka who regarded her silently and with worry in his face.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” she said quietly. A lot of magic had been directed at her as of late, and she didn’t know enough about magic to understand what kind of consequences it wrought. Something was wrong, though, and though Majo had often vehemently denied it, she knew that the woman used it. Vallen had told her so.

  It was time to pay the witch another visit.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was two days before her next “appointment” with Vallen. Each day had been busy with spring planting, and now that she was the only one working the field, wanting to spare Oka from such back-breaking labor, she had to use every second of sunlight she could spare to finish.

  For this reason she hadn’t had the time to visit Majo and ask the questions that had been blaring inside her head since the incident with Akiji. She hadn’t seen a trace of him since that day, but no one had come to her door with an order to leave the village, or worse, to come with him to a place of execution. Though she didn’t know what to think, she knew what that shove had looked like—magic, and a magic-user in her village was either banished or put to death, which is why Majo so passionately denied such a thing.

  Akiji was keeping her secret, for now.

  Thankfully, she had caught up on the late April planting and had kept the weeds to a minimum. Oka had tried to help her several times, but since he had neither knowledge of farming nor the body strength to be of much help yet, she wanted him to relax until next year’s planting season.

  Seeing a couple of hours were left to burn until sunset, she decided to give herself a break and leave early. She could wash at the river and meet with Majo before coming home and cooking dinner for Oka and herself. Wiping her hands on the rag again as she stood, she looked at Oka from across the field, who was trying his best to stand on his hands and walk around.

  “Oka?” she called, picking up the brown cloth she had been kneeling on and carefully folding it. Oka unceremoniously flopped to one side, his little legs flying, and his head popped up from behind a tall row of Sticking Comfrey, used for wounds both big and small to speed up healing and leave little or no scarring.

  “Let’s go home early,” she said, carefully walking over rows of plants as she made her way toward the path to go home.

  Oka was immediately up and jogging around the edge of the field to catch up to her, and when he reached her side, she held his hand as they walked home.

  Asking him to clean up and prepare their only pot for dinner, she left him at their hut and made her way to the river for a much-needed bath. Later, as she was dressing, having washed away the day’s labors, she couldn’t help but stroke the material of her dress, still incredibly grateful to have it, though she would never tell that to the demon who had given it to her. After combing her hair, she left the riverside and walked back toward the village, headed in the direction of the witch’s home.

  However, the closer she drew to Majo’s hut, the more fretful she became, and as the hut came into view, she found her feet slowing to a stop until she stood a few feet away from the door of Majo’s hut, fidgeting with the sleeve of her dress and wondering if this visit was a good idea. The last time she had entered the witch’s hut, she left tipsy and groped.

  Gathering some courage into the pit of her stomach, she strode forward, her new boots cushioning her feet this time, and raised her ha
nd to knock on the door. She came close to making contact with the wood when it swung inward, revealing a smiling Majo in yet another of her revealing dresses. This one was white, heavily embroidered with red and black designs that weaved a rosebush heavy with new buds across the dress’s skirt and sleeves. The woman’s eyes darted down to Shumei’s chest for only half a heartbeat, but it was enough to bring a bright blush to the younger girl’s face.

  “Why, Shumei! It’s a surprise to see you here without your delivery bag. Come in, come in, child,” she beckoned, her husky voice oozing kindness, though now it didn’t seem nearly as sincere as all the times she had used it before. She asked Shumei to leave her shoes near the door and ushered her to her usual seat on the witch’s sleeping mat.

  “Would you care for some tea, dear?” she lightly asked, elegantly gesturing toward a slightly steamy kettle sitting to the side of a healthy fire.

  “No thank you, Madam Majo,” she breathed, her nervousness coloring her cheeks a bright red.

  “Suit yourself then.” The older woman smiled, sitting down gingerly on her cushion. “Now then, what brings you to my home today?” She leaned forward, supposedly out of curiosity, but Shumei now suspected that she did it because the movement made her chest swell dangerously close to falling out of her own dress. Suppressing a small sigh of impatience, she looked to the witch’s dark, twinkling eyes.

  “Please, madam, answer me truthfully,” she began. The witch’s eyes lost just a bit of their twinkle. “Do you know anything about magic and its secrets?”

  She watched as the witch sat up straighter. Her smile was still on her face, but it no longer reached her eyes.

  “Because you have black hair, child, I shall answer you truthfully. I do have knowledge about magic. Why do you ask?” Her lips moved a little too stiffly, and Shumei realized that Majo was nervous. The witch felt she was taking a risk by discussing such things, and Shumei was very glad that the witch was being honest. Perhaps she could have some answers.