InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Lord of the West ❯ The Lord of the West, Betrayed ( Chapter 11 )

Author's Note: “Ki” is the Japanese form of “chi,” referring to spiritual energy in the body. A “haori” is a shirt. An “onsen” is a hot spring. A “yukata” is sort of like a kimono but lighter.

 

{+} {+} {+} THE LORD OF THE WEST {+} {+} {+}

 

{+} {+} Chapter 10: The Lord of the West, Betrayed {+} {+}

 

In Reiyama the snow fell soft upon the rooftops, adorning the pagoda tiers and the gardens, the houses and the terraces with purest white, like a bride awaiting her groom. And the city did wait; a deathly quiet had settled over it as it waited. The Tatesei were waiting as well---their king could feel it, as surely as he himself sensed the coming of the Dragon. His feet crunched in the snow as he trudged up the Temple stairs.

 

They were keeping Irusei in the Temple.

 

Asano nodded to the guards who stood upon the terrace surrounding the main building, and they returned the gesture, regarding him oddly. All of the Tatesei looked at their king the same way now, with their strange black eyes. They were confused---confused by the Dragon's call, and by the changes in themselves---and they looked to him for answers that he did not have. The guards swung the Temple gates open wide, and Asano strode briskly into the dark halls, brushing the snow off his shoulders and the top of his head. His footsteps rang hollowly off the wood and stone.

 

The king navigated the warren-like halls without faltering, though the place called up unpleasant memories. The Wise had tried to kill him here, once.

 

When he came to the room where Irusei was sequestered he motioned for the guards to step aside and slid the wooden panel door open himself. The room was windowless and utterly bare save for two braziers burning on silver stands at opposite ends. The prisoner knelt facing the door with his head bowed low in the presence of his king. He was shirtless, wearing only a hakama, and even that was tattered and singed in places. His warrior's queue fell forward over one shoulder as he raised his head after bowing. The flames in each brazier flickered as he moved.

 

“My Lord,” he murmured respectfully, removing his palms from the floor to rest them on his lap.

 

Asano waved one hand behind him and the guards obediently slid the panel shut, leaving him alone with the prisoner.

 

“I think you know . . . why I have not killed you,” the king said, kneeling opposite Irusei on the wooden floor. “But before you speak to justify your actions, let me first make you aware of the measures I have taken.”

 

Irusei nodded slowly. In the faint light, when he lowered his head his eye sockets became pits of shadow.

 

“I have lied to the Lord of the West,” Asano informed him. “I have told him that you were executed. Do you understand the implications of this? What I've done?”

 

Again Irusei nodded assent.

 

“You are protecting me, my king . . . though you do not want to. You do this because you are noble, and because you believe in protecting the Tatesei.”

 

Asano sighed. He understood Irusei's motives all too well, though Irusei was ten years older and a warrior, and Asano had lived the gilded life of Tatesei royalty. He understood, and he saw no evidence of treachery in Irusei. There was only a fervent centrism, whose focus was the Dragon. He could scarcely fault the warrior for this---he felt it as well.

 

“But you have acted rashly,” Asano said sternly. “You have caused this breach of our contract of loyalty with the demon lord Sesshoumaru. Did you not understand the danger he poses to us? You were there as well, two years ago, when he laid waste to this city.”

 

Without warning, Irusei's calm demeanor slipped.

 

“Why, I ask, do you insist we keep this charade going?” he said loudly, leaning forward and pounding both palms on the floor. “He is a demon! What he did two years ago earned our fear . . . not our love.”

 

“His quest for vengeance was human enough,” Asano snapped. “What the Wise did to his family was unforgivable. Theirs was an evil that did not deserve to endure.”

 

“Then the women and children he crushed beneath his claws were evil as well?” Irusei countered.

 

Asano shook his head slowly.

 

“No,” he replied quietly, “and neither was my father. But still I recall the massacre and say, `It was a fair trade.'”

 

There was no condemnation in the young king's tone, or on his face. Irusei . . . Sesshoumaru . . . he condemned neither of them. At this point, Asano was weary of condemnation. There was only one choice left to him, and he had resolved from the moment he betrayed the lord of the West that he would see it through.

 

“Did you come to kill me, then?” Irusei asked, frowning because he was staring at Asano's face and did not like what he saw. Slowly, he straightened, replacing his hands in his lap. “You can't.”

 

Asano's eyes narrowed. Slowly, his hand reached back to encircle the hilt of the short sword fastened to the sash at his waist. His silken sleeve whispered as it brushed the floor.

 

“I am king here,” he said sternly. “You serve me. You do not tell me what I can and cannot do.”

 

Irusei drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The brazier flames flickered.

 

“I am not a traitor,” he said quietly. “You are my lord, and I would die if you asked it of me. But I am no longer free to do so. Do you understand why? It is because the Dragon has chosen me.”

 

Asano's expression remained stony, and the sword at his side slid a little ways from its sheath.

 

“Chosen for what?” he asked coldly.

 

Irusei tilted his head back and gazed upward, as if his sight could pierce the Temple roof to see the sky beyond.

 

“To see this nation rise to its full glory,” he answered, his voice trembling with an undercurrent of excitement. “To put an end to this era of wars and see all humanity raised high on a pedestal of wealth and peace.” The young warrior lowered his head, and his black eyes gleamed in the firelight. “To see the Dragon awaken in full to lead his children,” he said softly, “beginning with the eradication of demonkind . . .”

 

“Madness,” Asano whispered.

 

“If you truly believe that,” Irusei told him, “then try to kill me.”

 

Green and untried as he was in the ways of the sword, the young king did not hesitate. In a heartbeat his blade sang forth from the sheath as he rushed at the kneeling warrior with full intent of slashing his throat. Irusei made no move to stop him, even going so far as to tilt his chin upward, baring the vein for his lord to strike.

 

Yet the sword stopped its fatal descent inches away from the warrior's flesh.

 

Asano stood there panting, frozen mid-strike. The edge of his white sleeve swung forward and brushed the side of Irusei's throat, but aside from this the king did not touch him.

 

Asano could not touch him.

 

The sword slid from between his suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor, and slowly he staggered backward, away from his last chance to end all this before it began. With equal and deliberate slowness, Irusei rose to his feet and advanced toward the retreating king.

 

“You see now where you stand,” Irusei murmured. “You can't oppose the Dragon, for it is in your blood also. And now that I have spoken with you, it is time for me to leave this place.” He brushed past Asano and slid open the wooden panel. “I am the Dragon's avatar, but that alone is not the answer. There is much yet to be done . . .”

 

“What will you do?” Asano asked, fighting to keep his voice from trembling. “How will you raise the Dragon?”

 

Irusei paused on the threshold of the small room, his profile outlined in the torchlight from the hall.

 

“The Dragon chose me,” he said, “because I was the only one who felt its coming and embraced the power in our blood without a backward glance. And it has filled me with fire. But . . . there is still only one who knows where the Dragon is imprisoned. The Dragon is held back by something, but I do not have the insight to see what it is.”

 

Asano's heart clenched, and his blood turned to ice.

 

“But Suiton does,” he said softly.

 

Irusei stepped beyond the threshold.

 

“My sister does,” he agreed.

 

“She will never go with you!” Asano insisted. “Even if Lord Sesshoumaru were to allow it.”

 

Slowly Irusei slid the panel closed behind him.

 

“If the white demon dies,” he said, “she won't have a choice.”

 

The guards outside made no move to stop him, and he strode out into the night beneath the quiet snow.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

The passage through the mountains proved to be long and arduous for Inuyasha and his friends. The clouds that they had seen looming over the peaks in the distance now showed themselves to be formidable overhead. The hanyou guided them through the same pass that they had traversed two years before. Now the necromancers' webs were gone, and in their place was a path plagued by driving snow. The long trek consumed the entire morning, after which they stopped to eat lunch and to rest before making the descent into the valley.

 

Lunch was rather unappealing fare---strips of dried meat that Sango had brought, which everyone was decidedly sick of and about which everyone (even the stoic Miroku) complained. Inuyasha was the most outspoken among them (“It tastes like shit!”), and in the interests of peace Kagome fished out her last cup of ramen for him. He ate it cold and uncooked because there was no place sheltered enough from the wind and snow to build a fire. However, he didn't seem to mind, because he crunched it between his fangs with as much relish as he usually exhibited when slurping it up.

 

After they had eaten Inuyasha led them down the steep hill and into the valley. Kagome was now riding Kirara behind Sango, so that Kagome's weight on Inuyasha's back didn't cause him to sink further into the snow. In some places there were drifts higher than his head, and sinkholes waist-deep. Miroku, who was also on foot, brought up the rear.

 

“What the hell?” Inuyasha turned around at one point and noticed something very strange about Miroku's mode of travel.

 

“Yes?” the monk inquired mildly, looking down at the hanyou from where he stood atop the snow. He had been walking across the surface instead of sinking in up to his waist like Inuyasha.

 

“Why are you prancing across the snow like some oversized fairy while I'm slogging through it up to my stomach?!” Inuyasha demanded, pointing an accusatory claw in Miroku's direction.

 

Unruffled, Miroku took a few steps forward to demonstrate.

 

“It's quite simple,” he explained. “I've used my spiritual powers to draw my `ki' into the bottoms of my feet.”

 

Inuyasha scratched his head, looking thoughtful.

 

“Well, if Myouga's right about demons being born from magic, then I should have way more ki than you!” he concluded.

 

Miroku stared at him, resting his staff tip atop the snow.

 

“Doubtlessly,” the monk agreed. “However, because you are a demon you are not pure and therefore you can't control it. That is a spiritual ability allotted to a select few, even among humans.”

 

Inuyasha clenched his fists and bared his fangs, straining in what was apparently an attempt to control his ki. However, when he took an experimental step forward, he only succeeded in sinking neck-deep into the snow.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he bellowed, thrashing around and spraying snow everywhere.

 

Miroku extended the end of his staff for Inuyasha to grab hold of, but the hanyou was still too miffed to bother freeing himself just yet.

 

“Since when are you `purer' than me, anyway?” he demanded. “Does `please bear my child' ring a bell?”

 

“I wasn't referring to virginity, Inuyasha,” Miroku explained, adopting a rather Buddha-like persona to put up a sagacious front.

 

“MY VIRGINITY IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” Inuyasha snarled, bursting his arms free of the snow.

 

“Of course not,” Miroku agreed, nodding sagely. “It's Kagome's.”

 

Both Inuyasha and Kagome---who was peering down from atop Kirara to observe the commotion---turned identical shades of crimson. Sango merely sighed with an air of long suffering.

 

“Miroku's the one who needs the prayer beads and the `sit' command,” she muttered.

 

“Uh, Inuyasha . . .” Kagome's parka called.

 

“What is it, Shippou?” Kagome asked, glancing down at the Kitsune, whom she'd been wearing all day upon Inuyasha's insistence.

 

“You'd better get out of that sinkhole really quick. I smell some of the Tatesei heading this way!”

 

Inuyasha's head lifted and his mouth snapped shut mid-rant. Quickly, he accepted Miroku's proffered staff, and the monk clasped hold of his other arm to haul him out of the sinkhole. Upon reaching firmer ground, Inuyasha found a large, flat boulder to climb onto and stood there gazing down the slope.

 

“Shippou wasn't kidding,” Inuyasha muttered, shielding his eyes from the snowflakes blown into his face.

 

“What do you see, Inuyasha?” Sango called, raising her voice to be heard over the wind whistling through the pass behind them. Kirara alighted on the rock behind Inuyasha, shaking her head to keep the snow from piling up on the bridge of her nose.

 

“This can't be good,” Miroku murmured, following Inuyasha's downward gaze. He had climbed up next to the hanyou, who was fingering Tetsusaiga's hilt.

 

Kagome peered over Kirara's massive shoulders to see what they were all staring at. She couldn't see down the slope, but she could see that Inuyasha had gone tense and rigid. Though only his back was visible---and even that was covered by his long white hair---she could tell that he was angry. Usually a very dynamic and physical person, when Inuyasha went utterly still like this it always meant trouble. In this way, she supposed he and his brother were complete opposites.

 

“No,” Miroku warned. He clamped a hand around Inuyasha's wrist before the hanyou could draw Tetsusaiga, and covered the movement with his long black sleeve so that the approaching Tatesei wouldn't see the gesture.

 

“It's not a welcoming party---it's a bloody army,” Inuyasha said tightly. “We can't just stand here and allow them to surround us . . .”

 

“They're under Sesshoumaru's protection,” Miroku reminded him in a low voice. “If you spill blood here you will violate whatever contract he has with them, because you're his brother.”

 

Inuyasha shook the monk off, edging away from him.

 

“They're under Sesshoumaru's protection, are they? Look at their eyes.”

 

Miroku nodded grimly.

 

“Like Sango's,” he murmured.

 

The Tatesei, in the meantime, had already caught sight of the group standing atop the hill, and were making straight for them. They were indeed a veritable army---there were forty young men in the company, warriors all. They wore the green haori of Reiyama beneath their armor and long queues beneath their helmets. Bows and quivers were strapped across their backs, swords at their hips, and daggers at their thighs.

 

“They'll be upon us in about five minutes at the rate they're traveling,” Kagome said apprehensively.

 

“We hold our ground,” Inuyasha ordered. “Kirara, at the first sign of hostility I want you to take Kagome, Sango and Shippou out of range of their archers. Miroku, I'll need you with me, because if we're going to try not to draw too much attention to ourselves I can't use the Wind Scar.”

 

Miroku nodded, and Kirara grunted her assent.

 

After but a few moments' span, the warriors had reached them.

 

The Tatesei stopped twenty feet downhill, holding rank but making no move to reach for their weapons. One of their numbers stepped forward; a tall young man with a lean, angular face and slanted, almond-shaped eyes. Apparently he was the leader; he seemed prepared to speak for them all. He took two steps forward, and sank waist-deep into a sinkhole.

 

`They'll use their archers,' Inuyasha was thinking, sizing them up. `The snow's too deep for them to get close to us and fight effectively with short-range weapons.'

 

However, the young leader soon proved that snow wasn't going to impede his progress. He looked down at the snow he had become mired in, frowning, and almost immediately it began to disappear, melting away from the general vicinity of his body in a faint hiss of steam.

 

`Shit!' Inuyasha thought, fighting the sudden raging desire to feel Tetsusaiga's pommel secure in his hand. `This is too fucking weird.' Beside him he heard Miroku's sharp intake of breath.

 

The young man, on the other hand, seemed equally as surprised to see Inuyasha.

 

“Silver hair,” he murmured, studying Inuyasha intently. “And demon's claws. You're an Inu Youkai . . .”

 

Inuyasha reached for his sword. The young warrior noticed the gesture and held out empty hands to indicate peaceful intent.

 

“I am Setsuna no Irusei!” he called, tilting his head back to look up at them. “We have no quarrel with you, Inuyasha-sama. Our quarrel is with the Lord of the West. He has wronged us greatly, and we go to make amends.”

 

Inuyasha stepped forward to the edge of the rock, still gripping Tetsusaiga's hilt. Miroku stepped forward as well, laying a cautionary hand on Inuyasha's arm.

 

“Lord Sesshoumaru is your ruler,” the monk said sternly. “How can he have wronged you so greatly that you must retaliate?”

 

The young warrior's expression darkened. He appeared older when angry.

 

`This guy is dangerous,' Inuyasha thought grimly, `even though he says he has no quarrel with us.'

 

The warrior regained his composure, and it was an eerie thing to watch---rather like a calm, cold mask sliding over something roiling beneath.

 

“He has taken from us. . .something very precious,” he answered carefully. “A Seer---a priestess of our new Temple. Though we have forsaken the teachings of the Wise . . .”

 

Kagome straightened in her seat atop Kirara.

 

“A Seer . . . ?” she murmured. “Tatesei Sano told me that Seers gave them prophecies . . . It must've been a Seer who gave them the prophecy that made them fear Inuyasha . . .”

 

Sango, sitting in front of her, shifted uneasily but said nothing in reply. Her gaze was continually drawn to the Tatesei warriors, with their strange black eyes.

 

“What would Sesshoumaru want with a human fortune-teller?” Inuyasha asked, squinting down at them with great suspicion. “He thinks humans are a waste of flesh---why would he bother kidnapping one?”

 

“Suiton is the one who woke the Dragon,” Irusei replied, seeming somewhat offended. “Somehow, Suiton's power has achieved what no Seer has ever done before. You see. . .Suiton is connected to us all through the Dragon's blood, the central thread of a spider's web. Perhaps the Lord of the West feels threatened by Suiton's power---or perhaps he intends to use it to destroy us. Either way, we go to confront him now, to plead for Suiton's release.” He paused, looking down at his feet and frowning, and then lifted his gaze and asked, “Will you come with us?”

 

Inuyasha mirrored the warrior's frown. This sounded like a trap to him---a trap set by Sesshoumaru.

 

“Our business is with King Asano,” Miroku interjected, planting his staff in front of him on the rock. “We came to speak with him, and would prefer to continue on our way to Reiyama.”

 

Irusei's gaze remained unwaveringly fixed upon Inuyasha.

 

“Asano-o-sama sent us,” he explained. “He fears for his people. Though we are hanryu, we have nothing but human strength to wield against the Lord of the West should he choose to attack us. However . . . you are his brother, aren't you? Two years ago you came to the aid of the Tatesei when he would have slaughtered us all. That sword you carry (here he nodded toward Tetsusaiga) has the power to match his. If you came, our lives might be spared.”

 

`Definitely a trap,' Inuyasha thought, folding his arms. `Sesshoumaru's probably been looking for an excuse to destroy the Tatesei since day one. Now he's stolen their Seer to get them to attack him. And he stole the shard from us to lure me here . . . No, wait, that makes no sense. Why would he want to lure me here?'

 

“Inuyasha?” Miroku prodded his arm, apparently awaiting his decision.

 

A firm refusal was about to escape from Inuyasha's lips when Kagome approached him from behind. She had slipped off of Kirara's back after the warrior's first mention of the Seer.

 

“Inuyasha, we should go,” she urged. “We shouldn't just let them walk into danger alone.”

 

He glanced over his shoulder, looking quizzical. Silently she shook her head, letting him know not to argue.

 

“The Seer can foretell the future,” Kagome told him, stressing the two words and hoping he got the message.

 

Slowly, he nodded, and then turned back to face the Tatesei.

 

“We'll accompany you,” he informed them. “Lead the way.”

 

Something flickered in the warrior's black eyes, but he nodded assent and motioned for his company to resume travel. The warriors filed past the rock, melting the snow around them to clear a path as they walked. Inuyasha waited until they had all passed, watching with great misgivings as the steam rose around their bodies and hissed---a sound audible even over the creaking of their armor. Then he motioned for his companions to follow him and they descended into the runnel in the snow created by the warriors.

 

“I don't like this,” Shippou complained, nestling in Kagome's lap once she had climbed back onto Kirara. “Sesshoumaru's creepy. And these Tatesei are only slightly less creepy . . .”

 

“Oy, you---you're supposed to be a par-ka,” Inuyasha snapped, not taking his eyes off the warriors ascending the slope in front of him.

 

Shippou sighed and transformed with a pop. Absently, Kagome put him on again. She was extremely nervous now, because they were heading into what promised to be direct conflict with Sesshoumaru. However, if that was where the Seer was, there was probably no way around it, either. Apparently Miroku was thinking along the same lines.

 

“If this `Suiton' is the one who started all of this, then he may be the key to fixing the future,” he murmured. But he kept a firm grip on his staff and a sharp eye on the trail ahead, and every so often he would finger the prayer beads around his right hand.

 

Their ascent up the mountainside veered off to the right---gradually at first, and then sharply as they approached the woods that blanketed the slope. Inuyasha was unfamiliar with this particular route, but Irusei seemed to have no doubts as to where they were going. Miroku noticed this and commented on it.

 

“He seems to have visited Sesshoumaru before,” the monk said in a low voice. “Look at him up ahead---he isn't looking anywhere but straight ahead. He knows this route well.”

 

“He knows the exact direction to take because he can sense where the Seer is,” Sango said, speaking up unexpectedly. She had been utterly silent from the moment when they first sighted the Tatesei, and even now there was an unusual hush in her tone. Her gaze was fixed somewhere ahead up the mountain, as if she could see through the thick screen of pines. Miroku slowed down and fell into step beside Kirara.

 

“Sango, can you sense the Seer as well?” he asked, looking up at her.

 

“Yes,” Sango murmured, but she wasn't looking at him when she answered.

 

Sango's distracted manner troubled Kagome, who leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

 

“What about the warriors, Sango? Can you sense them?”

 

Sango didn't reply for quite some time.

 

“It's just as Irusei-sama described it,” she said. “It's as if all the hanryu are threads in a spider's web. Suiton is at the center; we can feel the Seer's every movement.”

 

Miroku walked beside her for another moment, frowning when he finally realized she wasn't going to add anything to clarify this explanation. Then he turned and moved forward again to join Inuyasha. Both monk and hanyou noticed then that Irusei had paused further up on the trail, and stared intently at Sango for a moment before turning to resume his lead.

 

“I don't like this,” Miroku muttered.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

Sesshoumaru left the Seer alone in the palace's main hall and swept from the room in an extremely ill mood. He spent the better part of an hour restlessly pacing the dimly lit corridors. So swift was his stride that the torch fires blew sideways as he passed. Finally, in a fit of temper, he flung open the sliding panel that led from his personal chambers to the terrace overlooking the garden. The door rattled on its hinges.

 

For some reason, the sight of the snow-covered groves outside calmed the anger roiling in him, and he stood there for a moment as his breathing slowed. He had stood here, in this very place, looking out upon this very scene, since he was but a child. Now the sight left him feeling calm and strangely empty. Absently, he brushed the white fur away from where it had fallen forward over his chest, watching the snow fall.

 

He lost all recollection of how long he stood there, awash in memories, but after a time awareness of a different kind of emptiness in his gut gradually lured him back to the present. Sesshoumaru had not eaten for many days, even as he had not slept since he first learned of the Seer's existence. Jakken---who normally kept better track of his master's health than his master---had been too intimidated by Sesshoumaru's ill temper to come barging into his chambers wheedling and coaxing him to eat. After a moment's consideration, he decided that this was an ideal time to hunt. After all, there was nothing to do now but wait for the hanryu to come for their Seer. He owed the Tatesei woman no warning or explanation, just as he no longer owed her people the shelter of his protection.

 

Stepping out onto the terrace, he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the freezing winter air; drawing in through his keen nose the scent of prey. Then he stepped of the edge of the terrace, and rose into demon-shape before his foot ever touched the snow beyond.

 

{+} {+} {+}

 

Returning hours later---near sunset---Sesshoumaru slipped back into man-shape in the snow outside his chamber. He did so with a good deal of reluctance; there was a wild, cold freedom in wearing demon-shape and hunting in the mountains. Flying over the snow-crested peaks, his mind was clear of everything save the chase and the kill. And there was always the scent of flesh; of his prey's blood beating rapidly through the chambers of the heart . . .

 

Shaking aside those desires before they could distract him further, Sesshoumaru straightened and climbed back onto the terrace. His step was lighter now that his belly was full, as was his mood. He recalled that he had not seen Rin for several days, and headed down the halls to search for her.

 

He stalked through the palace, following her scent as he had the trail of the white wolves along the course of the frozen river that snaked through the mountains. Sesshoumaru preferred to prey upon predators---upon souls that he understood, so that he felt in communion with them as they died beneath his claws. He also preferred pale, pure quarry, untainted by disease or blemish---or the touch of Ningen. Livestock he considered beneath him, though inwardly he also harbored a secret horror that a creature could be bred solely for the purpose of being slaughtered.

 

Rin was nowhere to be found. After searching all of the rooms the little girl frequented, he finally met Jakken coming out of her chambers carrying a tray laden with untouched food.

 

“M-my Lord,” Jakken stammered, nearly dropping the tray in surprise. “I d-didn't suspect you back so early. You've hunted . . . ?”

 

“Where is Rin?” Sesshoumaru interrupted, glancing pointedly past his little servant into the empty room.

 

This time Jakken did drop the tray. It clattered to the stones, scattering jasmine rice every which way. Guiltily, he turned his small round head right and left, but of course the halls were empty.

 

“I-I don't know,” he replied. “I thought she was with you. She was saying earlier that she wanted to visit her special place, but I told her she couldn't go alone . . .”

 

Sesshoumaru's nose caught the subtle fragrance of pine and metal, and immediately he pushed past the baffled imp standing in the doorway and swept out the terrace door of Rin's chamber.

 

It was her meal-time, judging by the angle of the sun---normally she would not have missed it. This left him with no further doubts.

 

“The Seer,” he murmured darkly, eyes flashing.

 

Then he swept out the door.

 

“W-w-WAIT, my Lord!” Jakken called, stumbling through the snow as he attempted to follow his master through the garden.

 

But Sesshoumaru was in no mood to wait. Now that he was outside again, he could smell the Seer's scent commingling with Rin's.

 

`I should not have left her alone with Rin,' he thought, breaking into a run.

 

He didn't believe that the Seer herself was any sort of threat to the little girl, but he did not want her anywhere near Rin when the Tatesei came for her. The warriors of Reiyama already knew that Rin was a liability to him, and now that they had betrayed him they would no doubt wish to take advantage of that fact. He counted himself fortunate that he knew the location of Rin's “special place.”

 

It wasn't long before he found them together, in a stream at the garden's northern edge that ran down the mountainside. There was a fissure leak beneath this area, and the northern fork of the stream was a natural hot spring. Rin bathed here most of the time because she liked to play in the water, and Sesshoumaru allowed it because if there was one smell he truly abhorred it was the stench of unwashed Ningen. As long as Rin was clean, he didn't mind that she smelled faintly of sulfur. Sesshoumaru washed himself only in the snow, which blanketed the highest peaks above where he hunted even in the summer.

 

The Seer and the little girl were bathing now. The Tatesei woman sat serenely on a rock half-submerged in the steaming water, watching as the more boisterous Rin amused herself by using a nearby bush for snowball target practice. Rin saw him approaching first and hastily submerged herself in the water up to her chin. The Seer turned in surprise, but made no move to hide herself.

 

“Rin, you should not have come here,” Sesshoumaru said quietly.

 

Though his tone was smooth as ever, Rin knew when he was being stern and nodded solemnly. Then he turned cold yellow eyes toward the Seer, who was regarding him with a slightly puzzled expression.

 

“Suiton, you are being disrespectful,” Rin said, tugging at the Seer's hand and trying to pull her beneath the water as well.

 

Still frowning at Sesshoumaru, the Seer patted Rin's head.

 

“A demon lord is not like a man,” she told the girl absently. “The wolf doesn't care that the sheep it hunts are naked.” To Sesshoumaru, she said, “Why wouldn't we be safe here? Aren't we under your protection?”

 

Then she lost her balance as Rin finally managed to tug her off the rock. She landed with a splash in the hot spring, and Sesshoumaru was oddly relieved that this opportunity had been provided to avoid speaking the truth in front of Rin. The possibility of lying never occurred to him---the Lord of the West had always been ruthless in his honesty.

 

As the Seer broke the surface again, sputtering and coughing, Sesshoumaru's head snapped up as he caught the sudden strong scent of pine and metal. His eyes widened in surprise.

 

`Why did I not detect them before?' he thought, disgusted with himself. `I only catch it now . . . now that they are upon us . . . ?' Then he realized the reason for it. `The onsen! I could not catch their scent above the sulfur smell!'

 

Through the trees beyond the hot spring, a host of Tatesei warriors moved in the shadows. In the long shadows of twilight, they were scarcely visible. The black pits of their eyes seemed to darken their entire faces---it was like watching ghosts slip through the garden. Irusei emerged from their midst, wearing full armor and weaponry.

 

“Sister!” the warrior called sharply. “We've come for you!”

 

The Seer froze at the sound of his voice, staring wide-eyed at Sesshoumaru.

 

“Have you?” Sesshoumaru asked coolly. He made no move to cross the stream to stand between the hanryu and their quarry.

 

This was not as he had envisioned it. He had hoped that the Seer would try to run from the palace, and that the Tatesei would take her when she was alone. Yet now Rin was here, and this complicated matters greatly, for he was not going to stand idly by if they chose to take the girl hostage.

 

“Suiton, come to me,” Irusei told her, his tone softer than before. He knelt beside the stream, reaching a hand down toward her. The snow around his knees melted and ran down the bank. “You've been fighting it for a long time, and for that we acknowledge your strength. But now you must forsake your own strength, for you were always meant to bow to the Dragon's will. We all were.”

The Seer saw him out of the corner of her eye, but she did not turn to him. Instead she looked up at Sesshoumaru, her black eyes full of pleading. Naked and shivering, dark, wet hair clinging to her neck and shoulders, she was a pitiful sight. Sesshoumaru could not stand to gaze upon such unabashed vulnerability. Wordlessly, he bent and picked up her clothing---draped across a boulder nearby---and tossed it to the opposite bank, where it landed in the snow beside Irusei. Then he stepped away from the stream's edge, indicating that he would do nothing to defend her.

 

“Don't let them take me,” she begged. “They wish to free the Dragon!” When Sesshoumaru merely stood there, gazing down at her dispassionately, a frantic note entered her voice. “Do you not understand? I have Seen this! If the Dragon is resurrected, fire will rain from the skies! The world will change! And the Inu Youkai Line will die!”

 

“Foolish Ningen,” Sesshoumaru murmured. “Did you truly believe your loyalty would earn you my protection?”

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” Rin cried, confused. “We must help her!”

 

To Rin, he merely said, “Come, Rin. Let us leave them to their foolish pursuits.”

 

The Seer stared at him in disbelief. Losing patience, her brother grasped her by the arm and hauled her up onto the bank. Numbly, she allowed herself to be pulled. Once he had her on the bank, Irusei draped her robes over her shoulders. Rin climbed out of the water and wrapped her yukata around her small body. As she did so, Sesshoumaru turned and began walking in the opposite direction.

 

This final denial of any obligation to defend the Suiton jolted the Seer back into mobility.

 

“Was it not you who brought this upon us?” she cried. “All for the sake of an answer!”

 

Sesshoumaru glared balefully at her over one shoulder. He did recall that he had forced the Shikon shard upon her because he had wanted an answer to his question. Yet now . . . the question no longer seemed important. It was dwarfed by the Dragon's shadow; out-shown by the Dragon's flame, which beckoned him to find it, to make it his own.

 

“I have no intention of destroying the Dragon,” he said icily.

 

Even as Irusei pulled her to her feet, the Seer called out to him one last time.

 

“Coward!”

 

The white demon's foot paused mid-step.

 

The Seer began to thrash and struggle, kicking at her brother's shins and attempting to push him away from her.

 

“Enough,” Irusei told her sharply. Then his fist connected with her jaw. The impact snapped her head back, and her teeth clicked together loudly. Then she sagged forward in her brother's arms.

 

“What the HELL is going ON?”

 

At the sound of this voice, Sesshoumaru turned swiftly on his heel. Rin nearly collided with him, but he used his hand to push her out of the way.

 

“The Seer has just been returned to us,” Irusei said in calmer tones, turning toward the red-clad Inu Youkai who had moved forward to stand beside him. “I will bring Suiton with us.”

 

“Inuyasha . . .” Sesshoumaru said, in a low voice very much like a growl.

 

Inuyasha eyed his brother suspiciously.

 

“You just gave her back? Just like that?”

 

“Why are you with them?” Sesshoumaru asked, ignoring the question. “Have you come to Reiyama to police my actions yet again?”

 

Inuyasha stepped forward, one hand on Tetsusaiga's hilt.

 

“Yeah, that's right,” he snarled belligerently. “We came upon the Tatesei warriors and they told us you'd kidnapped their Seer. And after the little stunt you pulled stealing the Jewel shard from us, I believed them!”

 

Sesshoumaru made no move toward his own weapon.

 

“Then you will be sorely disappointed,” he said calmly, pushing back the white fur that trailed over his shoulder. “I am giving them what they want.”

 

“Is that the Seer?” Inuyasha's monk companion had just come to stand beside him, the rings on his staff tinkling as he set the tip down in the snow. He frowned at Irusei. “Why was it necessary to subdue her?”

 

Sesshoumaru's instincts were now urging him to reach for his own sword. If Inuyasha and his friends were going to make trouble, the monk was the one who would most likely put an end to it. Yet he refrained, knowing that the best way to get what he wanted here was to avoid a fight.

 

“You have heard all that I have to say,” he told Inuyasha coldly. “I will say nothing more to the hanyou who chooses loyalty to his Tatesei blood over our father's.”

 

“Hanyou?” Irusei murmured softly, frowning.

 

“So you'll be returning the Seer to the city?” Miroku asked Irusei, but again the warrior ignored him.

 

Abruptly, Irusei shoved his sister's inert form into the arms of one of his comrades. His black eyes were beginning to fill with fire.

 

Sesshoumaru knew by now what this precluded. In a flash, Tokijin sang forth from its sheath. It blazed in his hand, trailing red kenatsu through the air as he hurtled forward toward his enemies.

 

Tokijin rang as it clashed against Tetsusaiga. Sesshoumaru suddenly found himself face to face with Inuyasha. Red and gold sparks showered around them as both brothers pressed their blades forward in an attempt to hold off the other.

 

“I knew it, you fucking LIAR!” Inuyasha growled through clenched teeth. “You were planning to attack them all along!”

 

Tokijin burned brightly in Sesshoumaru's grasp. He could feel its heat spreading to every muscle in his body, lending him strength. His temper, which he had kept in check for the sake of his ambitions, now spiked beyond his limits of control.

 

“YOU FOOL!” he snarled. “DON'T DEFEND THEM!”

 

In one swift, fluid movement, Sesshoumaru pulled Tokijin back in an arcing path that freed it from Tetsusaiga's defense. Then he turned the blade forward and buried it up to the hilt in Inuyasha's flesh.

 

{END OF CHAPTER 10}