InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Saving Grace ( Chapter 40 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

(As many of you know, I do plan to revise and publish this once I've completed it [FYI, anyone who'd like to help with that process by assisting to edit/beta-read the massive manuscript, please, let me know via private message]. However, seeing as there are about 3 published novels with the title Stealing Heaven, [which I was unaware of at the time I chose it], I feel the need to change the title. Yes, I know there can be multiple books with the same title, but when I first titled this work, I loved the words, because they felt uncommon and captured the imagination, causing the reader to wonder what happens in the story to make the title appropriate. I'm trying to think along similar lines for the change, things like A Stolen Heaven, or A Broken Heaven [possibly A Broken Kind of Heaven, though that seems a bit lengthy, was also thinking of Breaking Heaven but seems like people might think it's about traumatic, soul-rending events befalling someone named Heaven, and reminds me a little of the final volume of the Twilight series, of which I am not a fan]. Reader input would be most welcome.)

(Just finished typing this up, my deepest apologies for any typos or missed/incorrect word-sort of errors.)

Panic bubbled up inside Kagome as she stared back at the little girl. The little girl whom she still couldn't force herself to believe was the vile, black-hearted Lyka.

As the priest's gaze scanned the area, Kagome thought she could see goose bumps raise on his arms. "Where is this spirit?"

The girl rolled her eyes impatiently, triggering a stern expression to color her father's features. He spoke under his breath—a word Kagome couldn't quite catch, but given his tone, she felt certain this was akin to a father in the modern era uttering the dreaded phrase young lady.

He glanced towards Nah Ra Ku, who only lifted his brows at the clear agitation in his priest's face. The demon may as well have come out and said, "She's just a child."

Sighing, the priest softened his expression as he turned back to his daughter, leaning down to clamp his hands gently over her tiny shoulders. "You know my sight is not as keen as yours. Ask the spirit what it wants, or tell it to leave."

Kagome hadn't realized she'd slowly backpedaled while watching the interaction, not until she felt a pressure behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she found she'd backed into a wall of the still under-construction pyramid.

Sighing, young Lyka pulled reluctantly from her father's grasp. So quick, Kagome nearly missed it, the girl's attention flicked upon the demon. In that tiny moment, her dark eyes widened and her lips parted in a short sigh. Just as fast, she whirled on her heel and started toward Kagome.

"She is so gifted," the priest said to the demon, beaming. "Clearly it is a sign she is a worthy successor to take over in our people's worship of you when I have become too old to serve you well."

Lyka paused, glancing back at the demon, her posture drooping as she saw that he wasn't even looking in her direction. The reaction seemed wholly innocent, but Kagome knew better. More than a simple child's infatuation, was Lyka's want to be noticed and acknowledged what sparked her eventual obsession?

She couldn't retreat any further, not with the temple wall at her back. Though she wondered briefly why that should be—couldn't ghosts pass through walls? Perhaps that took will or determination, applications for which she had no time.

The diminutive, cherub-face creature drew closer, and Kagome found herself wishing she'd focused much more closely on the priest when she'd channeled her destination. She'd hoped to have popped in later, when he'd started to lose faith in the Thief and perhaps wouldn't have minded sharing something as important as the demon's true name with a curious ghost.

Kagome's heart dropped into her stomach instantly, her eyes burning. If his words rang true, and he couldn't detect her the way Lyka could, perhaps this was a lost cause, after all.

What if there was no saving Sesshomaru?

Lyka stopped short, her eyes wide as her gaze met Kagome's again. "Spirit, why are you sad?"

Kagome's mouth opened, but she caught herself just before she began to speak. What was wrong with her? Was she really about to simply tell the girl everything—in front of Nah Rah Ku, no less? She clamped her lips together and shook her head.

There must've been something to the tone Lyka had used when she asked. That the voice of a child could sound so forlorn and sorrowful—as though she was not seeing Kagome's pain, but feeling it—was off-putting enough to make Kagome drop her guard for just a moment.

Frowning, the little girl shook her head, speaking over her shoulder, but not looking away from Kagome. “The spirit will not tell me.”

He gave a slow nod, not really paying attention Kagome noticed, as he replied, “Then the wise spirit must know you have lessons to attend.”

No different than any child, Lyka's tiny shoulders slumped at the mention of lessons. “Yes, father.” Sighing, she turned and trudged her way through the sand toward the tunnel.

Kagome didn't have long to wonder how the miniscule girl would traverse the tunnel, half-submerged as it currently was. As Lyka approached the water, a man who'd been stationed near the entrance stepped forward, scooping her up and setting her on his shoulder.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kagome followed. Away from the Demon and his priest, she might have better luck.

She had no idea what water would feel like in this state. Gritting her teeth, she tried her best to brace herself for a rush of cold, or an impact, or whatever plunging into chill water might occur to her as, but neither happened. Though not the most pleasant sensation, either—like passing through a dense, humid fog—she supposed there were far worse things.

The sensation vanished as soon as Kagome pulled herself from the water and out into the mouth of the exterior cave. Lyka's helper had just set the girl on her feet and already she was bounding off through the jungle.

In such a rush to catch her, Kagome barreled through the man, but didn't have the luxury to stop and shake off the icky, buzzing friction of slipping through him. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him shudder violently and dart his startled gaze around the cave as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Lyka's black hair flew behind her as her little legs ate up the clear-cut path back to the village. Kagome caught up, keeping pace a few steps back from the girl, but maintaining focus suddenly became a challenge. This path wasn't the one Kagome knew, the one that led to where their camp had been set up, no. But she did recognize it.

This was the path she'd run in her dream of being chased through the rainforest by Lyka.

Kagome trembled, but shook her head determinedly, trying to force away the choking memory of the ash pouring down her throat. Her heart stammered in her chest as she pitched forward, all at once the remembrance was too real, and she found herself gasping for air.

Her exaggerated breaths must've reached Lyka's ears, because the girl halted. She didn't turn around though, simply staring straight ahead, as though she was weighing what to do. Kagome could only guess that not all spirits she'd encountered had been friendly. The girl couldn't be certain that the sound she heard was the same sad-faced spirit from the inside the cavern.

“Wait,” she finally said, unable to take fighting her own subconscious. If she became too afraid, she might accidentally snap back into her body and she'd come to far to let something as ridiculous and selfish as her own fear.

Lyka turned her head, only a little, but enough that Kagome could see her eyes were closed. The bridge of her small nose scrunched up and her brow furrowed deeply. Was she trying to feel the energy near her?

“You speak to me now, cave-spirit?”

Kagome, bolstered by the knowledge that she could just speak, and Lyka would hear her native tongue—at least she hoped that was how this would go—tried for manners. “I'm sorry, I was frightened in the cave.”

Lyka turned on a heel, opening her eyes as she peered curiously into Kagome's face. “You speak strangely.”

“I do?” Questioning this was ridiculous, but Kagome was once more caught off-guard by the girl.

“Yes,” Lyka nodded as she turned and began walking. She sidestepped, making room on the path beside her for Kagome. “I'm,” she repeated. “What is I'm? Is this your name?”

Blinking rapidly, Kagome sighed. Children always found the worst moments to ask pointless questions. “I am,” she clarified. “It means 'I am', in my . . . native tongue, we push some of our words together to speak more quickly.”

“That is very funny,” Lyka said with a quick giggle that stabbed through Kagome's heart like a shard of ice. Nothing she could do would change what would become of this girl, even if she tried, this would simply become a case of self-fulfilling prophecy.

“Will you tell me know why you're here?”

“I . . . “ Kagome thought carefully about what to say. There was the chance no one had the answer for her, she didn't consider that. To think there might not be a way to save Sesshomaru was far too painful an end. “I need your help.”

The little girl nearly tripped over her own two feet as she halted and spun to face Kagome. “My help?”

Kagome only nodded, a bit startled by Lyka's response.

A smile brightened her face. “A spirit has never needed my help before!”

“Well, now a spirit does,” Kagome said, trying not to smile back, trying not to superimpose the image of the older Lyka who'd terrorized her over the face of this young, innocent creature.

The little girl sat on ground, clasping her hands in her lap as she stared up at Kagome expectantly. “Tell me what I must do!”

Holding in another sigh, Kagome slowly lowered herself to kneel before Lyka, maintaining eye-contact as she moved. “The man back there, the one who stood with your father . . . .”

“Nah Rah Ku?” Lyka's cheeks darkened a little and she tried, but failed, to hide a small grin at saying his name.

“Yes!” Kagome lightly placed her hands over Lyka's—only close enough that she could feel the pressure of the girl's physical form. She didn't want to get too excited. “Do you know if there is another name he calls himself?”

Some of the light drained from Lyka's expression. “I do not think I am allowed to share that.”

Yes! She knows! Kagome immediately clamped down on her excitement, keeping her features somber. “I promise he won't—“ she shook her head, amending her words, “he will not know you told me.”

“I want him to place his trust in me as he does with my father,” Lyka said quietly, her gaze distant as she looked toward the cave.

Shoulders drooping, Kagome sat, her knees lightly pressing against Lyka's. When she was a child, her mother always touched her—a finger on her cheek, a hand on her shoulder, a light hug—to be certain she had Kagome's full attention when she spoke; to be certain the words, whatever they were, made an impact. Kagome only hoped such a tactic actually worked.

“In a different time from now, he will not be the man you know him as,” Kagome explained, her voice steady. “I have a friend, someone I want very much to protect, and Nah Rah Ku is hurting him.”

Lyka's eyes became sad, but she did not look surprised.

Kagome's face fell. “You've seen him hurt people?”

Shrugging, Lyka admitted in a whisper, “He sometimes becomes angry with the men.”

“But not the women?”

Lyka shook her head. “I do not fully understand how, but we are his source of sustenance, to harm us would only harm himself.”

“Yet still, you are fond of him?”

Those words did surprise Lyka. “I . . .” forcing a gulp down her throat, the girl shifted her head to one side, effectively hiding behind her hair as she murmured, “I know he will forever remain as he is now—that when I look as you do, he will not have aged. I hope someday he makes me his bride.”

Kagome swallowed hard, blinking a sudden wash of tears from her eyes. No, what had happened was already done, this was merely an echo. Even if she told Lyka everything that her fondness would lead to, it would change nothing.

“That is how I feel about this friend he is hurting.”

Lyka set her head straight, letting her hair fall back to her shoulder as she fixed Kagome with wide eyes.

“But I need to know his other name so that I can make him stop.”

Nodding slowly, the little girl dropped her gaze from Kagome's. “You will not harm him, will you?”

Smiling, Kagome tried once, but the words died on her lips. Clearing her throat, she started again, “You have my word. I will not harm him . . . but I will do what I must to protect my friend.”

A serious, sorrowful gleam sparked in the depths of Lyka's dark eyes whenever Kagome used the word friend. Suddenly it occurred to her, Lyka was the high priest's daughter. She probably didn't have any friends due to her position. Her entire life was about her lessons—the lessons that groomed her to become their next spiritual leader—and . . . Nah Rah Ku.

Oh, no matter how she looked at it, Lyka's story simply became sadder and darker.

“I understand.” Lyka forced a sniffle as she rose up on her knees and leaned over Kagome's shoulder. “I once heard my father call him B'al Tah-Nos.”

Kagome mouthed the syllables, her eyes drifting closed. “You're certain this name is . . . important to him?” She wasn't certain she could explain the concept of a true name to the girl, even if she fully understood it herself.

“Yes,” Lyka nodded, sitting back to again fix Kagome with those enormous jet eyes. “Father was punished quite severely, but I was the only one who ever knew why.”

Kagome's hand shot to her mouth, covering a sudden cry of mingled joy and relief. She only hoped this name was as important as she needed it to be. And if it was . . . her hand slipped from her face, the joy fading as she stared at the sweet, uncorrupted Lyka.

If this name was what she needed, then Sesshomaru would be saved, but only thanks to Lyka.

Reaching out, Kagome gently stroked her fingertips over the girl's glossy, dark hair. “You will not understand this now, and by the time it matters, you'll have forgotten, but—“ she paused, sniffling as her eyes watered, “I forgive you, Lyka.”

o-o-o-o-o

A rattling sound drew Myoga's attention to the window sill. Frowning, the old man narrowed his eyes as he focused on the jar of salt.

The container shook, the inky blotches exploding outward again and then, all at once, the stains receded. As the jar stilled, the darkness vanished.

Myoga grinned, giving a sagely and turning back to the unconscious Sesshomaru as he murmured, “I think she's trying to save more than one soul today, my young friend.”