InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Phoenix Blade: Time Lapse ❯ Old Ghosts ( Chapter 75 )

Disclaimer: Don't own…don't sue. Tormenting them purely for my own sadistic pleasure. All characters and most situations owned by Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan Publishing, and VIZ is in the dog-pile somewhere, too.

 

A/N: Once again, this fic has been honoured at the IYFG 2nd Quarter vote; thanks to everyone for their support!

 

Some incredible plot developments in the IY manga these past weeks. Sess has a new arm and a new sword while the evil inside the Jewel manifested itself as a separate entity and is out wreaking havoc. Thank goodness this fic isn't canon, or I'd be ripping my hair out!

 

I've pretty much abandoned the anime for this Mount Hakurei/Band of Seven arc because IMHO there was an inordinate amount of `WTF?' filler within those episodes. My main resource is the VIZ Media manga.

 

Bouquets to Forthright, Nokomarie the Snake, Ranuel and Susanne TJ for their thoughtful suggestions, humour and tireless bunny-wrangling.

 

The Phoenix Blade: Time Lapse

Chapter 75: Old Ghosts

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Sengoku Jidai

 

I have followed any and all evil auras that I can sense… but each time, they prove to be a minor demon. Where has Naraku hidden himself this time? He was not destroyed by the confrontation at the castle…A slender figure, garbed in the bright robes of a shrine maiden, moved with purposeful tread along the forest path. Heedless of the dawn's chilly drizzle, Kikyo chewed on the fruitlessness of her search for the past few months. Where can he be? An aura as distinctive as his is not easily masked; it was clear that something immensely powerful destroyed his shield, so it is useless for him to raise another…

 

“Ho, woman!”

 

Kikyo blinked and paused mid-step, pivoting towards the rasping voice. A decrepit and thoroughly dissipated old bandit smiled crookedly at her in what he obviously thought was an ingratiating manner. He was slumped against the base of a large tree, his limbs splayed, his entire demeanour suggesting he'd reached his limits.

 

He peered up at her, his one good eye watery and bruised-looking. His other eye was long-closed, sealed by a vicious scar that stretched from his hairline nearly to his chin. “Art thou a priestess?”

 

“What do you wish of me?” she asked, cautiously moving closer. He is dying; perhaps he desires a blessing?

 

The old man sighed deeply, his eyes slipping closed. “I, who once feared no one, am afraid of the torments of hell. I have committed many crimes, crimes for which there should be no forgiveness, and yet I am afraid of punishment.”

 

Kikyo thought quickly before she spoke. “And now, at the end of your mortal existence… you wish to make amends for your crimes?”

 

“I have heard of a place where even the filthiest of souls can find redemption. I thought I'd journey there and die in peace… but I left it too late.” He shifted a little, his well-used bamboo armour creaking.

 

“What do you want of me?” Kikyo repeated, studying his heavily-wrinkled countenance.

 

With a great effort, he raised his sword, reached behind him and cut off the lank top-knot that had once marked him as a warrior. Holding it out to her with a trembling hand, he quavered, “Please take this and bury it there; perhaps I may find a bit of grace through thy kindness…”

 

Kikyo accepted the straggling grey strands. “Tell me the name of this holy place, and I will attempt to fulfill your last request.” There was no reply to her query; when she glanced at the old man, she found that her impromptu companion had passed from this world. Frowning a little, she tucked the top-knot into her kosode and spared the body a final glance as she rose to her feet. I will make enquiries at the next village, I suppose.

 

As it happened, within the next hour she discovered that the destination which the elderly bandit had wished to reach was not that far distant. The woodcutters that she questioned were first derisive that she would expend any effort on behalf of such a person, but then grudgingly admitted to knowing of the holy place.

 

“Tis called Mount Hakurei, the `white soul'. Many years ago, the venerable Hakushin built a temple at its base,” the woodcutter said, leaning heavily on his axe. “Tis said that any sin, no matter how terrible, will be cleansed if one prays there.”

 

After receiving directions to the mountain, Kikyo thanked the men and resumed her trek. A place so holy, that even the darkest of sins will be forgiven? Obviously Naraku will not be anywhere in its vicinity...

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

The same early-winter morning…

 

“Why are there so many low-level demons on the loose? That's the second attack today and the sun's barely risen!” Hakkaku smeared the streak of acidic ichor off his forehead and grimaced as he wiped it off on a frosty clump of grass. Nearby, Ginta grunted in agreement as he scuffed his feet to rid them of sticky goop he really didn't want to think about.

 

“Get in the creek! I don't wanna smell demon guts for the rest of the day!” Koga ordered as he emerged from the river and briskly shook himself off. “You'll stink worse than Naraku in an hour or so.” The rest of the pack vocalized an agreement from where they wallowed in the shallows. While his two lieutenants grumbled their way into the icy water, Koga paced on the bank, impatient to be off. He stopped, sniffing the air as a familiar scent tickled his nose. Wolf blood? Frowning, he followed the coppery tang until he was examining a set of huge paw prints deeply stamped into the mud at the river's edge, then tracked the trail a short way into the undergrowth.

 

“C'mon!” he bellowed over his shoulder. “One of our own is in trouble!”

 

As the wolf prince vanished in a whirl of leaves and dirt, Ginta sighed. “All this running to and fro is really getting me down. Do you think he'll give us a break over the winter?”

 

Hakkaku rolled his eyes. “Is Naraku dead?”

 

“No.”

 

“There's your answer.” The pack reluctantly climbed out of the river, shook itself in a collective splatter, and started off in Koga's footsteps. As they ran, the blood trail remained hard to detect for a considerable distance and it was easier to follow Koga's scent. More worrying was the oily smell of lower-level youkai that also seemed to be heading in the same direction as their chieftain and the bloodied creature he was tracking. Abruptly, the smudges of blood turned to drops, then to streaks, then to small puddles… and in the distance they heard Koga's snarling and the disturbing stink of demon guts mixed with wolf youkai blood.

 

There was a break in the trees and they fell out into a clearing. In the centre of the open space there was a pile of bloodied fur; Koga crouched beside the creature's massive head, speaking in low tones. The wolves let out small yips and barks of dismay and immediately circled the fallen youkai, setting to work licking the aged wolf's multiple wounds. Ginta and Hakkaku crept forward, bowing to the old one. Koga gave an impatient jerk of his head to bring them closer.

 

“This is the chief of the northernmost wolf demon tribe… there's some trouble brewing up that way. Listen carefully.”

 

The old wolf cracked a rheumy eye and the corners of his black lips turned up. “Now I recognize you, young leader. You are Koga-sama of the Eastern Tribe… my granddaughter's intended…”

 

Koga's dark eyebrows shot up under his bangs, but he sensibly kept his mouth shut. “What are you doing so far from your territory, my lord?” he asked, carefully ignoring the marital dig.

 

“Three moon cycles ago we came under attack by a creature the likes of which we've never before seen. I sent Ayame to find you… she returned empty-handed because you were engaged in another battle.” He shot Koga a sharp look. “Our opponent was neither human nor demon, possessed nightmarish strength… and fed on demons.”

 

“What was it?” Ginta breathed.

 

“A ghost. It stank of human graveyard soil and fresh blood, and the word was that it invaded our territory because it had devoured all the demons to the north. Those you killed to save me…” He indicated the rubble of body parts with a weak twitch of his paw, “…were also refugees from this creature.” He heaved a great rasping sigh. “My tribe was destroyed…”

 

Koga had a brief vision of sparkling green eyes and vibrant red hair; his chest clenched oddly before he forced out, “Your granddaughter…?”

 

“Once our final defences were breached, we fled before its advance. Five days ago, I sent her towards your den with what remained of our pack and then tried to draw off our pursuers.” He blinked slowly at Koga. “I hope I was successful…”

 

“Grandfather!” Koga was nearly bowled over by a white whirlwind that threw her arms around the elderly wolf, pulling his head into her lap. “Oh, we're too late! Forgive us!”

 

“Aya-chan… why are you…?” he wheezed.

 

“You're all I have left, Grandfather… I couldn't escape knowing you were in danger! What would Father have said if I abandoned you?” The red-headed girl demanded, frantically stroking the old youkai's muzzle and forehead as if she could will him back to health.

 

“You are not alone, child. Your betrothed will stand by your side.”

 

Ayame blinked and seemed to notice the three humanoid demons for the first time. “Koga…?” Glistening eyes fringed by damp lashes gave Ginta and Hakkaku a cursory glance, but lingered longest on the wolf prince's face. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I'm still on the hunt for Naraku, but I'll check out this creature that attacked your tribe. It sounds suspicious.” Koga thrust out his chest and tried to look especially determined, but his posture deflated as he broke out in a blush when Ayame suddenly clasped his hand.

 

“Koga, this creature is like nothing you've ever faced before! It killed my parents… my uncles and aunts… most of my cousins… and ate them! Tore them apart and ate them like they were rabbits!” A choked sob interrupted her gruesome description; Koga pulled his hand from her grasp and awkwardly patted her shoulder while he thought rapidly. Ayame swiped at her eyes with her fist and gestured. “These are all that remain of my tribe…”

 

He looked around and was surprised to see a mixed group of young wolf demons trickling into the clearing. They looked very lost and forlorn as they plopped onto the ground; several of the humanoid ones burst into tears at the sight of their fallen leader while their four-legged compatriots ran to join the healing efforts. Ginta and Hakkaku immediately went over to greet the youngsters; Koga watched them for a few moments before turning his attention back to Ayame and her grandfather.

 

The old wolf's breathing was becoming laboured, with a definite rattle deep in his lungs. “Koga-sama… I commend my granddaughter into your hands. Look after her in my place …” He coughed wetly and red spattered the earth beneath his muzzle.

 

“Grandfather…!” Ayame wailed. “Don't leave me!” She buried her face in his bloodied neck ruff, her shoulders heaving. The wolf squinted up at Koga, who tried not to squirm under his surprisingly sharp gaze.

 

“Be worthy of her,” he suddenly growled in a tone that brooked no refusal, and the younger male gulped. Aware of a couple of dozen sets of eyes boring into him, Koga did the only thing he could do… bowed meekly to the senior alpha's will.

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

“Very well.” Ayame's grandfather gently nuzzled the young demoness' leg, leaving a smear of red where his muzzle brushed her skin. “Aya-chan… this old man wishes he could teach your pups to hunt, but I die content knowing that Koga-sama will honour the accord between our tribes.” The demoness sniffled piteously, dashing away tears as she groped for Koga's hand. He reluctantly allowed her to place slender clawed fingers across his palm, feeling distinctly uneasy. A pair of silvery eyes sprang to mind and he nearly pulled away… until he recalled Kagome's pointed and emphatic rejection that day. I suppose… I could develop a preference for red hair…

 

Despite the trail of his thoughts, Koga was still taken off guard when Ayame leaned into him and bumped her nose under his chin in the age-old gesture of acceptance. He blinked, staring at her in surprise, until he became conscious of the old wolf's intent look. With a mental sigh, he slung his free arm around Ayame's shoulders and rubbed his jaw over the top of her head. She's so delicate under all this fur and armour... Closing his eyes, he deeply inhaled the scent of cool north woods accented by floral notes from the purple flowers fastened in her hair and was electrified by the sensation of her breath intimately ruffling over his throat. She smells pretty damn good… like a wolf should… no trace of stinking dog…

 

Ayame interrupted his ruminations by pulling away and reaching for her grandfather. The elderly creature's eyes had closed, and his breathing was so shallow as to be almost undetectable. “Grandfather…?” she whispered, but his soul was already stepping through the hell-gates as the gathered wolves pointed their muzzles at the sky and howled to mark their leader's passing.

 

Koga pulled the shaking young woman against his chest and held her while she wept; the rest of the youkai drew near. “Start digging,” he ordered brusquely. “He deserves a proper grave. We'll retrieve his bones in the spring… once Naraku is defeated.” His lieutenants nodded and organized the group into some semblance of order to begin the necessary excavation while Koga continued to hold Ayame and contemplate the rather abrupt change in direction his life had taken. I have a pack again. Can't bring `em all with us because they'll never survive whatever Naraku's setting up…

 

Acting on that concern, he barked a command at the light-brown alpha female who was supervising the digging efforts. She immediately came to his side and rolled on her back before Ayame. The young woman hiccupped a little and reached out to touch the animal's throat, accepting her submission. As the wolf regained her feet, Koga issued a series of yips and woofs to which the female listened intently. Nodding, she returned to her pit-side position while Ayame looked up at Koga, her eyes snapping sparks.

 

“Why are you sending me away?” she demanded. “I can fight!”

 

“I've lost too many to Naraku already,” he replied sincerely, then quickly added when she bristled, “I don't want to risk your life as well.”

 

“I thought you were going to hunt that… that thing that destroyed my family?” Ayame asked tartly, tossing her flaming hair.

 

“I am… because I'll bet that Naraku is behind it somehow. Any weird shit like this has always turned out to be connected to him.”

 

The young woman pouted a bit, then sighed. Looking up at him through her vivid bangs, she murmured, “Don't get yourself killed, okay?”

 

He smiled confidently. “Won't happen. It'll be a cold day in the fifth hell before Naraku gets a piece of me!”

 

She still looked pensive, worrying her bottom lip between sharp white teeth. “This creature is really strong, Koga. My father was very powerful… a taiyoukai of our kind… and that thing took him down in one blow…”

 

Koga patted his fur-encased legs. “I have a little extra boost to my speed and strength that your father didn't, so the odds are a little better for me,” he couldn't resist boasting. Ayame shot him a sceptical look, but he continued, “Leave it to me; Naraku now owes me for two wolf demon tribes and that'll make ripping off his head that much sweeter.”

 

The young demoness looked like she was torn between jibing at him for his brashness and hugging him for his bravery when Ginta interrupted by kneeling in front of the couple, his eyes deferentially averted. “The grave is ready…”

 

Ayame teared up again, but held it in as they rose to their feet; Koga stayed by her side as she bent to press a final kiss to the ancient hoary head. The rest of the tribe distributed themselves around the carcass. With grunts and growls, the dead wolf was manoeuvred into his final resting place. Ayame leapt into the grave and carefully arranged his head so that his muzzle pointed towards the north, then pulled one of the purple flowers from her hair and tucked it under his limp paw.

 

Jumping back out, she stumbled a little; Koga caught her. She proudly straightened and shrugged free of his hands, but the small smile she bestowed let him know she wasn't distancing herself out of distaste. Turning around, she watched unflinchingly as her grandfather's body disappeared under showers of dirt and stones, the silver of his fur slowly vanishing into the rich brown earth. When the grave was filled and the excess piled on top into a haphazard cairn, she began the mournful vocalizations of their kind, the eerie sounds rising into the chill morning air. The rest of the pack joined in the ululations, with Koga supplying the final howl as the new leader.

 

Casting a vivid blue glance over the clustered youkai, noting the wary looks sent his way by the males and the appraising ones by the females, Koga couldn't resist swaggering a little over the way his pack… and his authority… had suddenly expanded. “All right… this is how it's going to be. Ayame has been to my ancestral den beneath the waterfall; she'll lead you there with the help of my wolves. You'll wait there for my triumphant return!”

 

Ginta and Hakkaku rolled their eyes at this grandiose pronouncement until they realized that Koga meant their four-legged packmates would do the escorting… not them. Since there was a pair of very pretty young bitches in the group who were sending them covert glances from beneath long lashes, the prospect of a winter spent in a nice warm den with plenty of feminine company was far more appealing than chasing Koga all over Honshu. However, whichever gods might have been listening closed their ears to the pair's fervent silent entreaties.

 

Koga boldly clasped Ayame's hand and kissed her knuckles. “I'll see you before the Spring melt… bearing Naraku's head as a trophy for our den wall.”

 

Ayame bit her lip again and hesitated for the briefest moment before throwing her arms around his neck and fiercely hugging the surprised youkai. “Come back soon,” she demanded into his chest before releasing him and stepping back. The light-brown female came to stand at her side, closely followed by the large white male wolf of Ayame's own tribe. “Goodbye, Koga… may your paws be swift and your fangs be sharp,” she solemnly intoned the ancient blessing. A small catch developed in his throat as he suddenly remembered his own mother waving off his father a scant half-century before on the final patrol that had ended with both of their deaths. Raising his hand in salute, he watched until his new pack had vanished into the trees… then noticed Ginta and Hakkaku's wistful expressions.

 

“Wipe that milk-faced look off your mugs, both of you,” he snapped. “Now we have an even better reason to kill Naraku as soon as possible.” Koga paused, sniffing intently before scowling heavily. “Let's get moving… there's a whole pile of dog-shit heading this way…”

 

“You mean Kagome-sama's pack?” Hakkaku asked hopefully, not at all keen to move too quickly from the spot marking his first view of a potential mate.

 

“Them… plus enough fucking inu-youkai to make up a full war patrol. C'mon! We have to find Naraku first!” He took off in a scuttering of loose stones, leaving his two weary lieutenants to follow without even the companionship of their four-legged packmates on the endless miles to come.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“Dammit! It fucking reeks of wolves!” Inuyasha shouted as he tore through the undergrowth.

 

Above his head, Sango leaned around Miroku and called down, “Is it Koga?”

 

“Fucking wolf-shit… I can smell his conceit from here!” the hanyou yelled, ferociously baring his fangs as he adroitly avoided a fallen tree.

 

“I wonder what a conceited wolf smells like, exactly,” mused Miroku from the safety of Okibi's back. “Excessive hot air?” Sango and Kagome giggled behind their hands, but they noticed that their escorts didn't join in the merriment. They had split into two patrols that morning in order to cover more ground. Kagome had been secretly relieved for the break from Sesshomaru's training regimen, and putting some distance between Inuyasha and Jaken was a bonus, as the two had just about exceeded their tolerance levels for each other.

 

The hanyou had declared his need to stretch his legs after riding on either Ah-Un or Kumo for the last couple of weeks, so the rest of his enlarged pack chased him through the pale light as he raced towards the north-east. He'd been enjoying himself testing his reflexes through the branches and foliage until he smelled the wolf prince and his mood instantly soured. “C'mon!” he shouted over his shoulder. “We've gotta speed up so that Koga doesn't beat us to Naraku!”

 

As he darted ahead, outpacing the tenbaryu, Kohire pulled even with Kagome. “Begging your pardon, my lady… but why does Inuyasha-sama bear such hatred for this wolf youkai?”

 

“Er… Koga-sama once tried to claim me,” she said, turning red, then white as a sudden thought drained the blood from her face. “Oh, no… if Sesshomaru runs across Koga... shit.”

 

“Sesshomaru-sama dislikes all wolves on principle,” Kohire grinned toothily. “Why would do you think that his animosity towards this one in particular would be more severe?”

 

Kagome bit her lip, wondering how much to tell the guardsman. “Sesshomaru-sama saved Rin-chan from Koga-sama's pack…”

 

Understanding broke out on Kohire's face. “Ieji-kun told us how Sesshomaru-sama used Tenseiga to revive Rin-san after she was killed by wolves,” he murmured in a tone of awe, then eyed Kagome speculatively. “Interesting that the same wolf youkai has a connection to the human females claimed by two inu brothers…”

 

“If I were you, I wouldn't mention that connection to either of them under any circumstances!” Kagome shot the guardsman a significant look.

 

It took a moment, but Kohire clued into his probable shortened life expectancy. “Understood, Kagome-sama.” He saluted and urged his tenbaryu back into place on her flank.

 

Kagome stretched along Kumo's neck, peering intently downwards for a reassuring glimpse of red and silver. The steel-grey beast snorted softly and reached back to nibble on the toe of her boot. In return, she scratched under his white mane as high up as she could reach.

 

Okibi swooped closer; Sango called across the gap, “Do you think Koga has picked up a clue?” He's heading towards the ox-tiger…”

 

Kagome chuckled. “Inuyasha would say that Koga wouldn't recognize a clue if it stripped itself naked and licked his nose, but I'd say the direction is significant… more to the north, Kumo.” She tapped the left side of his leathery neck and the tenbaryu corrected his course slightly.

 

“Inuyasha is going that way, Kagome-sama.” Miroku gestured to the right with his staff.

 

“Oh! I'm following Koga's shards…” she grumbled, wondering why her hanyou seemed to be going off on a tangent.

 

“I'll inform Inuyasha-sama!” Kohire streaked past on his ruddy-toned tenbaryu, the creature's flaming orange tail streaming brightly against the dark forest.

 

“Damn that inu-youkai hearing…” Kagome watched as animal and rider drew even with Inuyasha and the message delivered; there was a brief exchange before Kohire's tenbaryu rose towards them like a bright spark blown upwards from a wildfire.

 

The inu-youkai saluted. “Inuyasha-sama says he is tracking the scent of wolf's blood. We are to continue following Koga's shards until midday, then wait for him to catch up. I will detail two guardsmen to accompany him…” He gestured at the rest of the flight.

 

The dark-haired woman nodded, sending the guardsman dropping away to deliver the confirmation, closely followed by two tenbaryu and their riders. Kagome watched them go, tapping her fingers on the saddle. A set of walkie-talkies would sure come in handy…

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Several leagues away…

 

“Father, is it wise to continue our journey by ourselves?” The young man adjusted the chin strap of his straw hat and looked around nervously. “The villagers said that an ogre is active in this area…”

 

“Feh. If we are overdue, your mother in a towering rage is far more terrifying than any ogre…” the older man grumbled cheerfully.

 

His son's laughter was a touch too shrill. “I suppose your spiritual powers would be more than a match for a mere ogre, anyways…”

 

“Of course. Now, cease this idle chatter and let us be on our way.” Making sure his bracelet of prayer beads was securely fastened around his bony wrist, the elder tipped his hat on a rakish angle and stepped off smartly along the path, sighing in anticipation of a cup of tea at their next stop.

 

They trekked along in silence while the sun crept closer to its zenith, the yellow orb glowing faintly through light clouds. The youth had cheered up the longer they had gone without encountering anything more frightening than a pair of pheasants rustling in the long grass. They ate as they walked, the rice balls provided by the innkeeper's round-cheeked wife washed down by draughts from their bamboo water containers.

 

As they crossed a wide meadow full of wet grass, their robes became thoroughly soaked, causing grumbles as dripping fabric chafed their skin. The trees ringing the meadow's verge would give them a chance to dry out a little, but they never reached that haven. Instead, the most horrible wailing scream rang through the air and they froze.

 

Hunkering down, they waited for the sound to be repeated, but instead there came the crackling, tearing, groaning sound of live wood and foliage being brutally displaced as several trees came crashing down. Crouching even lower, peering out from under the brims of their hats, father and son watched in stunned silence as a gigantic body reared up from behind the downed trees. Backlit by the veiled sun, they saw the creature's massive jaws chewing something… and then the unwilling audience yelled out in horror and back-pedalled frantically as the upper half of a fairly large demon's body was crunched down and swallowed whole.

 

“F-f-father…? Y-y-your sp-sp-spiritual p-p-powers…?” the youth stuttered, plucking at his father's sleeve. The creature turned its head in their direction, blood-shot eyes glowing as a trickle of bloodied saliva dribbled from its chin.

 

“Me, take on that? Are you crazy? Run!” Abandoning all pretence at concealment, the two raced willy-nilly back the way they'd come.

 

The bestial creature watched them go, picking at a chunk of bone stuck between his pointed teeth with a cracked, yellowed nail. “Humans… not as much energy value as a demon… lucky for them…” he rumbled.

 

“Kokotsu-sama.” A young voice, flat in tone but full of authority, spoke from the trees behind.

 

Turning his great bulk with surprising agility, Kokotsu regarded the slim teenager balancing on a broad tree limb with a baleful eye. “What do you want, Kohaku?”

 

“The wolf prince carrying Shikon shards approaches.”

 

Kokotsu leered broadly. “Fresh meat with the bonus of shards; it was worthwhile for me to venture further than my brothers.” He gave Kohaku an appraising look. “You can go… after handing over that shard in your back!” A huge hand, the size of half a fortress gate, swept through the air towards the youth.

 

Without cracking his blank expression, Kohaku easily evaded the giant paw with a fluid leap, bringing down his sickle on Kokotsu's wrist. With astonishing ease, considering the relative sizes of the weapon and its target, the sickle carved through flesh and bone, sending the ogre's hand thumping to the ground. Kohaku landed a brief distance away and was instantly surrounded by a dozen brightly coloured wasps. “Do not over-reach yourself, Kokotsu-sama, or you will be punished.”

 

The ogre contemplated the glittering insects as he retrieved his severed hand. “I'm under surveillance, eh? That's all right; I wouldn't trust me, either.” With an odd squelching noise, he jammed his hand back into place on the bleeding stump. The flesh and bone immediately knitted themselves back together and he experimentally flexed his fingers. Satisfied with the range of motion, he shot a look at Kohaku, who held his sickle at the ready. “How long will it take for my prey to arrive? I'm feeling a might peckish… wolf, you said?”

 

“He bears two shards, Kokotsu-sama. He will not be an easy kill.”

 

“That's fine,” the ogre nodded. “I don't mind working up an appetite before I eat.”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“Oh, yay… another ridge,” Ginta grumbled, peering up at the looming granite outcropping as he and Hakkaku scrambled over the broken ground in Koga's wake. The wolf prince had slowed his headlong pace as the terrain became more challenging, but he was still considerably higher up the mountainside. “I wonder what there is to eat around here?”

 

“Maybe a snake, if we're lucky,” Hakkaku replied, eyeing the cracks and crevices of the stony hillside. “Might be a couple that haven't gone into hibernation yet…”

 

“Damn you!” Koga's angry roar was nearly lost in the crashing, tumbling rumble of loosened rocks thundering around them. Taking cover behind a large boulder, they squinted through the swirling dust and debris. Their chief stood tall and proud, his shoulders very rigid, a dangerous growl vibrating the air as he faced off against a hulking creature looming overhead.

 

His opponent was broad of shoulder and long of arm, with a terrifyingly sharp-edged grimace. It wore an impressive breastplate of lacquered metal along with a studded headband and wrist guards… but no weapon. Odd black markings under its yellow and red eyes crinkled as it boomed, “Lively one, aren't you?”

 

Koga bared his fangs, his nose wrinkling. He doesn't smell like Naraku… “You must be the ghost that destroyed the Northern pack… you stink of blood, death and human graves.”

 

“I suppose I would smell like death, since I've been spreading quite a bit of it around.” Kokotsu cast a glance at the boulder behind which Ginta and Hakkaku trembled. “Three of you, eh? Wolves travel in packs… such loyalty. Reminds me of that other wolf pack I devoured; they threw themselves at me by the dozen… good times…” Any further reminiscence was cut short by Koga's heel smashing into his jaw and snapping his head back with a vicious crack. Kokotsu straightened his neck with a jerk and showed the newly-created gap between his pointy teeth. “In your legs, eh? They'll make a nice set with the one in my forehead… I wonder if I'll be even stronger with more shards?”

 

“Where the hell did you get a Shikon shard?” Koga demanded, his tail lashing in agitation.

 

Kokotsu's grin became even wider, if possible. “Let me whisper it in your ear!” He struck swiftly, trying to scoop the wolf prince into his mouth. Koga used the uplift to vault onto Kokotsu's shoulder and reaching up, caught hold of the broad metal headband spanning the creature's brow. Throwing his weight into the movement, unwittingly assisted by Kokotsu turning his head the other way to look for the wolf youkai, Koga tightly gripped the headband as he launched off Kokotsu's shoulder and ran across the ogre's chest. His neck twisted grotesquely until there was a loud, grinding snap; Koga clung tightly as his macabre perch tottered before crashing heavily to the ground.

 

The wolf prince let go, leaping clear to land among the clattering rocks and dust. Kicking at Kokotsu's chin, he growled, “The bigger they are… now, to take that shard for my arm…” Koga fisted his hands on his hips and examined Kokotsu's forehead, trying to decide whether the small indentation right in the centre of the broad expanse was the location. “Kagome would really be useful about now…” he muttered. His lieutenants had barely reached him when the ground around them exploded. Koga leapt into the air, but not fast enough to avoid the huge fist that snatched him up.

 

Kokotsu chuckled, the sound twisted by his contorted voice box, and began to rise. Before Koga's astonished eyes, Kokotsu's head spun back around to its proper alignment with a horrid grinding sound. The ogre shook himself a little and smirked at the trapped wolf prince. “Enough exercise… time to dine.” Opening his cavernous mouth, Kokotsu attempted to stuff Koga into his gullet in one motion.

 

One chance… Koga took advantage of Kokotsu's loosening fingers to kick himself higher, until only his legs were still clutched in the ogre's fist. Driving his claws into the small depression in the centre of Kokotsu's forehead, he desperately dug around for the familiar sharp edges of a shard.

 

“Heh… is a gnat tickling me?” the ogre grunted in amusement.

 

Closing his fingers around a solid lump that tingled against his senses, Koga gritted his fangs and yanked with all his considerable strength. A fist-sized chunk of flesh and skin came away in his hand with a horrible wet tearing sound, and Kokotsu's grip tightened just before he shouted, “My shard…! Damned wolf!”

 

His form shimmered like a heat mirage just before the flesh melted away from his gigantic bones and the huge frame collapsed in on itself, Koga still clutched tightly in the skeletal grip. The wolf prince clung onto the encircling bones as he rode the crackling, snapping calcic avalanche to the ground, choking in the dense cloud of powdered bone and rock.

 

“Chief! Chief! Say something!” Hakkaku shouted as he and Ginta scrambled through the catacomb, tossing Kokotsu's splintered and cracked ribs out of the way.

 

Half buried, Koga winced and shifted his hips. His legs were trapped beneath a defleshed jaw while his torso was squeezed between the bones of Kokotsu's forearm. The blood greasing his fingers made his grip on the shard tenuous, and when he attempted to curl his hand into a fist, it squirted out like a chunk of soap. The dully glittering thing skittered and bounced over the smooth rounded walls of his prison, coming to rest just out of reach in the tumbled wrist bones. Koga swore quietly and began wearily working himself loose, again stretching towards the winking shard.

 

He'd nearly reached his target as his lieutenants cursed, slipping and tripping up the unaccustomed surface when an ominous buzzing filled the air. Koga paused, his bright blue eyes sharp, as he attempted to place the sound. “Dammit! Naraku's fucking hell wasps!” he roared upon sight of the hated insects. One darted forward and snatched up the coveted shard while the rest hovered in a menacing cloud, humming their inherent threat of stinging death. “Fuck it all to the fifth hell!”

 

Hakkaku was the first to reach him after the insects departed. Tugging at the bones holding Koga in a brittle vise grip, he waited until Ginta arrived to shift the huge jaw. Both remained silent as they worked, listening to Koga swear luridly and violently.

 

At a break in the hair-curling litany, Hakkaku interjected, “At least the Northern tribe is avenged, and we know Naraku's involved.”

 

Koga stopped dead, cocking his head at the other youkai. “Good point… plus we know it but mutt-face probably doesn't.” The entrapping bones finally moved just enough that he could shove himself free; he quickly jumped clear and gave himself a thorough shake.

 

“What now?” Ginta asked, testing the edge of a tooth larger than his hand.

 

“Those bugs'll lead us straight to Naraku, so let's go!”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

Inuyasha contemplated the freshly dug pile of earth before him, tainted by old blood and the fading scents of many wolves… some of which he recognized. Wolf-shit was here, as was a small pack of strange wolves. He studied the burial mound, racking his brain for a match to the vaguely familiar scent. Waitaminute… that red-headed firebrand! What was her name? Circling the clearing, he sniffed carefully. Most of the fleabags took off this way… but shit-for-brains and his two clowns… The hanyou made a final, thorough circuit while being watched closely by his two escorts, then straightened. No doubt about it; Koga's heading towards the ox-tiger. Wonder what the stupid wolf found out?

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“So tell me, Kohaku-kun… is this Inuyasha fellow handsome or merely good-looking?”

 

Caught off guard, the youth frowned minutely. “His appearance is not my place to judge, Jakotsu-sama…”

 

The extraordinary creature he was addressing adjusted a fine silk kimono before heaving a dramatic sigh and gazing dewy-eyed into the distance. “I dearly hope he is very handsome…ugly men deserve to die quickly, and I prefer to take my time…”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“What do you think, houshi-doushi?” Kagome asked, resting her chin on her palm as she gazed down at the warlike array of samurai marching past the foot of the cliff. The shouts of the mounted commanders drifted up to the watchers' ears, barely audible over the thump of sandaled feet.

 

Before Miroku could answer, one of the guardsmen flanking Sango snickered. “How does a human army ever hope to surprise an enemy? They're not exactly subtle!” Kagome had to admit his point; the jangling of harness, the thud of hooves and feet, the loud voices of the officers, not to mention the thoroughly churned earth marking the troop's passage, certainly made their presence hard to conceal.

 

“Looks like trouble,” Sango muttered, her dark eyes assessing the number of soldiers. “There's way too many of them to qualify as a patrol… looks like an expeditionary force.”

 

“Look, my lady… there's a local. Should I seize him for questioning?” Another guardsman pointed a long claw at an elderly man who had been taking his ease on the roadside, waiting for the soldiers to pass before shuffling along in the opposite direction.

 

“Uh… no `seizing' necessary. Let us handle this, okay? You lot would most likely give the old fellow a heart attack,” Kagome smiled winsomely at the guardsman. “Wait up here for us and keep an eye out for Inuyasha.”

 

The two tenbaryu carrying the three humans dove off the cliff edge, following a steep trajectory to avoid attracting unnecessary attention, then flattened out just above the treetops to swoop noiselessly into their unwary target's path. Kagome remained hidden in the undergrowth with Kirara and the tenbaryu while Sango and Miroku slid down from Okibi's back. The slayer settled Hiraikotsu more comfortably over her shoulder and ducked through the bushes until she could approach the old man, Miroku following several paces behind. When their target looked up, startled at this sudden appearance in his path, she bowed politely. “Greetings, honoured sir. I wonder if you would be so kind as to tell me where those soldiers were heading?”

 

His eyes sharpened as he assessed her armour plates and her weapon. “Tell me what thou art first, young one.”

 

“A demon slayer, sir,” she answered, proudly straightening.

 

He nodded, then cracked a gap-toothed grin. “No business for thee, I'm afraid. Yon monk would perhaps do better, as an exorcist is most likely required.”

 

Miroku also bowed and moved forward. “An exorcist? I can most definitely be of service,” he intoned smoothly, settling his features into his best `honest holy man' expression. “May I enquire as to the type of exorcism?”

 

The old man divested himself of his pack and sat down on it; Miroku and Sango obligingly crouched to remain eye level with him. “The most recent incident was ten days ago,” he began, “a patrol on the north-eastern border was wiped out. `Twas said that it could not be the work of mere men, so violent was the carnage.”

 

Kagome strained her ears from where she stood concealed with Kumo, Okibi and Kirara. I wish we hadn't left the guardsmen up on the hill… some of that demonic hearing ability would sure come in handy…

 

“Who or what is thought to have caused these deaths?” Miroku asked.

 

“The attacks began three moon cycles ago, upon the destruction of the sepulchre of the Seven,” the elder answered, relishing the rapt attention of his audience.

 

“The `Seven'…?” Sango prompted.

 

“A group of vicious mercenaries who came here from the Eastern lands when I was a lad. They quickly gained a reputation for brutality that stood out even in a brutal time. None were spared in the path of destruction they sowed across this area, fighting for one warlord and then turning on their former master if his enemy offered more. However, `tis said they worked not for mere wages, but for the pure bloody-minded joy of slaughter.” He fell silent for a moment, his eyes turned inward. Shuddering visibly, as if a chill had descended, he continued, “The Seven finally did what no previous threat had been able to accomplish… united the warlords against them. At great expense of lives they were brought to bay in a deserted village in yon mountains.” He pointed a gnarled finger towards the looming craggy peaks.

 

“The Seven were finally defeated?” Miroku asked.

 

“They were beheaded and buried, but it was felt that such evil would not sleep quietly. A monument was erected over their tomb to placate their turbulent souls and has stood inviolate these fifty years.”

 

So intent on the conversation, Kagome completely missed the warning signs and therefore reacted very badly with sparking pink energy when a clawed hand clapped over her mouth at the same time as an arm snaked around her waist and yanked her back against a powerful body. “What'd I miss, wench?” Inuyasha growled in her ear, and she sagged a little.

 

“I nearly fried you, dog-boy!” she hissed.

 

The hanyou nuzzled her ear and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped both arms firmly around her. “You knew it was me… what's up?” he whispered, peering through the leaves at the trio chatting in the middle of the road while showing no inclination to let her go. Kagome relaxed into his embrace, happy for the affectionate contact. Since they'd been in the field, Inuyasha had kept her within reach but had restricted himself to the occasional quick hug or light kiss. He isn't being distant; more like `professional' since we're in his brother's company. She smiled wryly, bringing up her fingers to lightly stroke the back of his hand where it splayed over her ribs. He's already becoming Yashita…

 

“Miroku and Sango are talking to that old fellow; something about ghosts called the Band of Seven released from their tomb...” she murmured, lightly tugging on the hair bracelets twining around his wrist.

 

Inuyasha snorted. “An exorcism, huh? Damn houshi never quits, does he?”

 

“Shhh… he isn't trying to scam anybody…”

 

“What happened?” Sango's voice was tense.

 

“The memorial stone was found split in two, and the tomb blasted open as if struck by lightning or other natural phenomena… and yet, nothing of the sort had occurred at that time.” He lowered his voice; Kagome could no longer hear clearly, but Inuyasha noticed and filled her in. “Some say this is a sign that the ghosts of the Seven are among us once more and give as proof the savage massacres that have recently plagued us.”

 

There was a pause, indicating the end of the conversation, before Miroku politely inclined his head. “Our thanks, honoured sir, for your information.” He rose, his staff jingling softly and genially assisted the old man to his feet, pressing a couple of coins into his hand. Seeing him on his way, Miroku and Sango waited for a couple of minutes before they veered off into the bushes to rejoin their companions.

 

“Didja learn anything useful?” Inuyasha barked, releasing Kagome to fold his hands into his sleeves.

 

“Possibly relevant; we've experienced first-hand the effects of Naraku's disappearance, which has encouraged lesser demons to come out of hiding,” Miroku mused, thoughtfully rubbing the beads restraining his Vortex. “These `ghosts' seem awfully solid if they have committed as much damage as is attributed to them.”

 

The hanyou shrugged. “If we run into `em while we're hunting Naraku, we'll deal with `em the same as any other enemy.”

 

As their escort landed around them, Sango asked, “What were you looking for earlier, Inuyasha?”

 

“I found a fresh grave, but unfortunately, it wasn't Koga's… appeared to be from a different tribe and I think the mangy wolf acquired a new pack out of the deal,” the hanyou answered, boosting Kagome onto Kumo's back. “I picked up the scent of that red-headed female…”

 

“Ayame?” Kagome asked, twisting to look down at him.

 

Inuyasha arched a dark brow. “Good memory, wench. Apparently all of Koga's wolves took off with Ayame's pack, so it's just the asshole and his two tail-lickers.”

 

Kagome shot him a sharp look. “Don't talk that way about Ginta and Hakkaku. They might be wolves, but they're decent guys.”

 

The hanyou muttered something atrociously rude under his breath, but didn't say it out loud as he leapt up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he ordered, “Let's go a bit further before we stop to eat. I want a proper fire this time, instead of those self-heating jobs.”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Later that afternoon…

 

“You there! Clear the road!”

 

The extravagantly garbed personage humming under its breath and swinging its hips in a most provocative manner merely came to a stop in the centre of the muddy path and flashed a dazzling smile. “I'm sorry… were you speaking to me?”

 

The commander was somewhat taken aback by the falsetto voice emanating from this broad-shouldered apparition, which was also flashing an indecent length of rather muscled leg from under its hiked-up kimono. Is this a man or… a woman? Oddly garbed… oddly marked… is that a sword or a musical instrument? “Out of the way… er, woman!”

 

The creature did not obey, but rather tilted its head in a coy manner while peering up at the commander through its glossy bangs. An elegant hair pin briefly gleamed. “Please be careful, gentlemen, because it is said that ferocious ghosts haunt this land.”

 

The commander just managed to not roll his eyes. “Kindly step aside, for our mission is to hunt down these ghosts and end their depredations.”

 

A hard glint came into the creature's eye and was quickly masked by a charming smile. “Ah… now I understand. You really have no idea what you are looking for, do you? Allow me to introduce myself…”

 

There was a lightning fast movement, and the leading ranks toppled in a welter of their own blood, horses and men dying too rapidly to even scream as their bodies were chopped into quivering pieces. The survivors were at first too stunned to do anything more than stare at the lone attacker, who now balanced a dripping blade across its shoulders. Revelling in the attention, it executed a dainty bow. “I am Jakotsu of the Seven, gentlemen. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 

The junior officers snapped out of their shock at the legendary name and the threat it implied. “Surround that man!” one shrieked, and the foot soldiers scrambled to obey, forming a loose circle well out of range of Jakotsu's weapon.

 

The object of their aggression waited until they had settled slightly, smiling softly the entire time. “Ah, sweet memories…” he sighed nostalgically, then struck. The entire circle wavered and collapsed, but this time men screamed their lives out as the twitching halves of their bodies pulsed and emptied onto the blood-soaked ground.

 

“Dark magic!” screamed one of the survivors, and Jakotsu laughed merrily just before silencing the young officer's voice forever.

 

“Not magic at all, my friend… although an enchanted sword would certainly be even more fun!”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“Inuyasha-sama…” The entire squad of inu-youkai froze, and as one, all their heads turned, their noses quivering as they scented the breeze. Kagome watched their nostrils flare, wondering, until the faint, long-unfelt tingle of a tainted Shikon shard had her sitting up very straight and extending her senses in search of it. She didn't have time to pass on her discovery before Inuyasha swore and bailed off Kumo's back.

 

“Come on!” he shouted and tore into the undergrowth. Several guardsmen abandoned their mounts and raced after him, weapons sprouting in their clawed hands.

 

“Kohire-kun…?” Miroku asked, perplexed.

 

“Human blood… buckets of it, from the heaviness of the scent.” He hesitated a moment before continuing, “Also, the very faint smell of tainted soil, as if something has risen from the grave.”

 

“Just like the old man said,” Sango muttered. “Do you suppose it's the Band of Seven?”

 

“Only one way to find out. Lead on, Kohire-kun!” Kagome urged Kumo into the air as the rest of the force including the riderless tenbaryu streaked after the hanyou. They didn't have far to go before coming upon a charnel house. Miroku gasped, and immediately began offering prayers for the dead as they landed behind Inuyasha and his bristling escorts.

 

“Are those… the soldiers we saw earlier…?” Sango breathed, horrified at the carnage. “Surely… that single person couldn't have killed so many?”

 

The `single person' standing in the centre of the grisly circle and admiring his handiwork with a dreamy smile suddenly became aware that he had an audience. Hefting his besmeared sword, he turned to appraise his new targets… and stopped dead, his weapon thumping unheeded back to the ground. “Inuyasha?” he squealed joyfully, shading his eyes with a scaled gauntlet for a better look. “Is that really you?”

 

The hanyou visibly twitched. “Who the fuck are you?” he snarled, his cheek stripes darkening and fraying as the kimono-clad murderer continued to stare hungrily at him.

 

“Oooh, Inuyasha… you're simply gorgeous! What adorable ears! I simply must have them!”

 

Kagome felt the growl before she heard it, as Inuyasha's aura began to rise and the bladeguard of the Tetsusaiga was flicked away from the scabbard. “You reek of graveyard soil and decayed flesh…”

 

Miroku stepped forward. “Are you a member of the Band of Seven?” he called, drawing attention to himself. He quickly regretted it.

 

“Today is truly my day! A beautiful hanyou and a delicious monk!” The falsetto voice abruptly dropped into a more masculine register. “I can't wait to hear you scream my name…”

 

Amid the various choking sounds emitted by the males of their group, Kagome heard Miroku mutter to Inuyasha, “Would you mind terribly if I dealt with this?” as he released the prayer beads.

 

“Be my guest,” the hanyou hissed, his eyes flickering red.

 

“Not so fast, Miroku!” Kagome squinted carefully at their opponent. “He has a Shikon shard!”

 

“What? Where?” demanded three voices at once.

 

“In his throat… it's so dark… like Kohaku-kun's…” she whispered. Instant understanding silenced all of them for a moment while their inu-youkai guardsmen remained politely puzzled.

 

They fell back a step when Inuyasha's aura roared up around him as he snarled, “Who gave you that shard, freak?”

 

Starry eyes and a wide smile met his demand. “You're even more beautiful when you're angry, Inuyasha. How can I possibly resist you?” A moment later, the Tetsusaiga hissed into its full transformation, the vapours whirling down its gleaming length. The hair-pin bobbed wildly as its wearer vigorously applauded. “Magnificent! Oooh, I'm getting goose-bumps! You've shown me yours… let me show you mine!” There was a flash and for a brief moment, Kagome wasn't sure if her eyes were playing tricks because it appeared that the blade stretched and bent before clashing loudly with the Tetsusaiga.

 

“Kagome, get out of range… now,” Inuyasha ordered tightly as he landed, his reddened eyes narrow.

 

She was somewhat taken aback. “But I…”

 

“Now, wench!” he thundered, and she could only obey. Okibi refused to leave Miroku's side, so Sango transferred to a transformed Kirara and joined her aloft, accompanied by Tsu and Kohire.

 

“We both have distance weapons, Kagome… you and I have a better chance of hitting him from up here,” Sango reassured her. “After the snake incident, Inuyasha's not going to take any chances with you.”

 

“I suppose so,” Kagome replied, slightly mollified at being ordered out of the line of fire like a civilian. As she readied her bow, she engaged her battle-sight just in time to see the strange sword lash out again and reach towards Inuyasha. He parried the thrust, but then the blade curled around and deeply sliced his shoulder before slithering away.

 

His opponent smirked, licking the red streak of blood from the honed edge and apparently savouring the taste. “Now you know why my brothers named me after my sword… Jakotsutou, the `snake bone'.” There was a flurry of movement on the ground; Inuyasha and Miroku found themselves behind a solid grey wall of dragon-hide, the guardsmen forming a bristling barrier. Jakotsu raised his plucked eyebrows just before the blade coiled like the reptile it was named for and struck the ranks.

 

Demon-speed healing cannot save your life when you are sliced in half or dismembered.

 

Kagome screamed in fury and sorrow, snatching an arrow out of her quiver as she brought her bow into firing position, aiming at the dark glow emanating from the hollow of the laughing spectre's throat. Sango didn't waste her breath on meaningless sound; she flung Hiraikotsu with deadly intent as Jakotsu aimed another blow at the dwindled cordon.

 

The bone boomerang tangled in the rippling blade and slowed it for a split-second, revealing it to be composed of multiple thin plates riveted together at their tips, giving it a range of over thirty feet. In that same split-second, Kagome flamed and fired an arrow at Jakotsu; the missile was sliced in half by the unusual blade hurrying back to its hilt. Infuriated, she tried again, only to miss when Kumo spun out of the way of a retaliatory strike. Sango wasn't as lucky.

 

Hiraikotsu barely returned to her hand, wobbling badly in flight, but it dragged along a looping twist of razor-sharp metal. Between Kirara's evasion and Sango's own reflexes, she avoided a battlefield amputation. As it was, the knife blade concealed inside her gauntlet deflected most of the attack; however she still suffered a nasty cut as the flexible steel brushed her forearm.

 

“Sango!” Kagome shouted, sending Kumo swooping towards Kirara.

 

“Don't you dare, you bitch! These men are mine!” Jakotsu shouted, his face distorting into a mask of fury. He slashed again, the blade reaching into the sky… where it was intercepted by a golden flash. Okibi shrieked once and plummeted heavily to the ground, her scaled skin no match for the strike of Jakotsu's sword.

 

Miroku shouted something so incredibly violent, at such odds with the robes he wore that even Inuyasha was taken aback. Kumo's entire body went rigid, and then the stallion screamed his rage, smoke instantly wreathing his head. Kagome hated to do it, but she restrained him from diving on his target, reasonably sure that they would not escape if they came within reach of that blade. Jakotsu's retracting sword annihilated the remaining ranks of guardsmen as the hanyou sheathed Tetsusaiga, leapt through the flashing blades and falling bodies inside Jakotsu's zone, and drove the revenant to the ground with his fist.

 

“Shut up, freak! You'll pay for this!” the hanyou snarled viciously, cracking his claws. To his utter shock and amazement, Jakotsu instantly executed an agile back flip out of immediate range. What the fuck? That punch should have knocked him out!

 

Jakotsu winced, rubbing his cheek. “I like it rough, but this is just plain cruelty…” he pouted.

 

No one noticed the squat figure carrying a square wickerwork basket filled with lengths of bamboo avidly watching them from a nearby hillock.

 

Inuyasha flinched and snatched Tetsusaiga out of its sheath. Screw the shard; I'm gonna Wind Scar him back to whichever hell he crawled out of! “Answer me! Did Naraku give you that shard?”

 

Jakotsu fluttered his eyelashes and simpered, “It was a gift from my elder brother; I don't know who gave it to him.”

 

Above their heads, a herd of now-riderless tenbaryu circled, keening desperately. Kagome had an injured Sango hanging on around her waist astride Kumo; Kirara had swooped down to snatch up Miroku. The monk came reluctantly, his handsome face set in hard lines as his fingers hooked into the restraining beads, watching Inuyasha face off against Jakotsu. “This is bad,” Kagome snapped as she tried not to look at the bodies of their escort. “We need Tenseiga, and we need it fast!”

 

“Shall I seek Sesshomaru-sama, my lady?” Tsu asked, grinding his teeth in frustration.

 

“Can you smell him?” she asked desperately. “Is he near?”

 

Just as he shook his head, an acrid stench reached their noses, leaving the demons sneezing violently and the humans coughing. Sango reacted instantly. “Go higher! That's poison gas… oh, no!” She pointed and Kagome followed the line of her shaking finger, only to gasp in horror as she watched an ominous bank of smoke roll over the bodies of the dead, melting human and youkai alike into bubbling black ooze.

 

“Damn you!” A white-fletched arrow burst into pink flames; the missile scorched a path into Jakotsu's shoulder and instantly skeletonized that part of his body. He staggered from the impact, then eyed the quivering shaft for a moment with an expression of distaste before yanking it out and snapping it in half.

 

He glared up at the archer before glancing around at the encroaching cloud. Daintily skipping out of the way of both the smoke and the Tetsusaiga's swipe, he called, “Move that delectable little ass, Inuyasha, or you'll melt, too… and we can't have that!” Waving gaily, he was quickly hidden from their view.

 

A second blazing arrow struck where he'd been standing only a moment before, briefly illuminating an eddy of smoke before the purifying light was extinguished with absolutely no discernible effect. Damn, damned, damnable… I probably have to bulls-eye his shard… or rip it out… before he can be defeated. Fuck. A string of lurid curses from below brought her back to the present; Kohire's red tenbaryu swept downward and the hanyou swung aboard one step ahead of the threatening mist. Kagome noticed his feet were once again bare and his fire-rat hakama appeared to be smoking.

 

“Where the hell did that fucking freak disappear to?” Inuyasha demanded, standing up on the beast's haunches to shade his eyes and scan the surrounding terrain. Sniffing did no good; his nostrils were full of the harsh smoke. “Dammit!” he roared, shoving his hands in his sleeves and dropping onto the saddle.

 

“What shall we do about them?” Miroku asked quietly, pointing at the hovering troupe of masterless tenbaryu. The beasts hung their heads, silent except for the occasional miserable squeak.

 

“Send them back to the fortress; their arrival without their riders will tell the story as effectively as a note,” Tsu murmured hollowly.

 

“We can't!” Kagome yelped. “The arrival of that many empty saddles will plunge the fortress into a state of panic!”

 

Tsu gave her a long, steady look. “About half a dozen mated females will have just dropped dead, so I think it's safe to say that the fortress is aware that there have been some losses.” Kagome could only stare numbly at him, then was startled when Sango's hands landed on her shoulders.

 

“We have to get that bastard. We will get him,” the slayer snarled vehemently. “What now, Inuyasha? Should we rejoin Sesshomaru-sama?” she called out.

 

The hanyou fidgeted slightly, his entire being practically vibrating with the desire to hunt down the flamboyant swordsman, but he tamped down on his vengeful desires as he assessed the fading light and the worrying scent of this packmate's blood. “He'll find us soon enough… Tsu, take the girls and locate some cover for tonight so Kagome can tend to Sango's wound. Kirara… Miroku… come with us.”

 

As the neko-youkai and the monk joined Kohire and Inuyasha, they turned towards the rest of the herd. Kagome wondered at the faint woofs, mews and chirps until she saw the mass of animals rise higher into the fading light and turn towards the west… with one exception. Kirara hovered while Miroku and the lone tenbaryu sized each other up; some sort of agreement was reached because the monk transferred to the animal's broad back. Behind her, Sango exhaled, then rested her forehead between Kagome's shoulder blades. “It's only going to get worse, isn't it?” she whispered. Wordlessly, Kagome reached up and squeezed Sango's hand where the slayer's fingers dug into her tough dragon hide tunic. Clucking to Kumo, she urged the stallion to catch up with Tsu, her thoughts as dark as the approaching dusk.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“Geh-heh-heh… they've gone to ground, eh? Perfect!” cackled the squat little shape, his veil rapidly sucking in and out, outlining the fleshy contours of his lips. The hovering hell wasp watched him closely as he cheerfully set about his preparations, measuring and pouring out the powders and liquids, but even as steeped in miasma as that foul insect was, it had to briefly retreat before the billowing noxious fumes.

 

It returned as soon as the cloud dissipated and gave a couple of short warning buzzes before flitting out of range, its huge faceted eyes tracking the approach into the firelight of a clearly irritated Jakotsu. “You little jerk, Mukotsu! You interrupted my first rendezvous with Inuyasha!” When the much smaller man merely chortled, Jakotsu bopped him on the head with his gauntleted fist. “Or, were you hoping I'd end up dead again, too?” he asked, seating himself next to the dancing flames.

 

“Geh-heh-heh! Of course not, brother! That was merely an affectionate greeting!” Mukotsu set aside his bowl for a moment and pulled away the concealing veil, revealing a rather toadish visage. “Inuyasha and the others have holed up on the outskirts of a village half a league from here; I'll head their way once I have this next batch mixed. Takes a few hours for the poison to reach maximum potency, so I figured I'd scout around for a likely hut, then wait until sunrise to hit them.”

 

“Uh-huh…” Jakotsu pulled out his hair pin, sending glossy waves that any woman would envy spilling over his shoulders. He gave his scalp a good scratch with his fingertips before twisting it all back up and securing it into place. Propping his chin on his hand, he gazed dreamily into the fire. “His blood was so sweet… and so red…” he purred before his expression changed to a pout. “However, those women could be a problem… nasty bitches…”

 

“I'll take care of the women for you, Jakotsu,” Mukotsu offered slyly, returning to his mixing and grinding.

 

Jakotsu shot him an arch look. “I'm sure you will, brother.”

 

It was Mukotsu's turn to look dreamy-eyed. “Imagine if I were able to lay hands on both of those beauties at once?” An unpleasant smirk turned up one side of his wide mouth. “That would truly be a sweet, sweet day…” He shook himself a little and adjusted his loincloth. “Inuyasha seemed rather displeased with you, Jakotsu. I'm sure it would be easy for you to lure him away from his companions…”

 

The taller man preened. “Of course it will be! Any chance to get that gorgeous hunk of hanyou alone, and I'll take it!” he cooed.

 

“The one wench carries Shikon shards, I'm told. Interested in splitting them?” Mukotsu asked.

 

“Eh… not really. You can have them, brother,” Jakotsu drawled, stretching languorously before settling down to rest.

 

Mukotsu stared at the other man, his eyebrows arched. “Are you sure?”

 

“Uh-huh. All I want is Inuyasha,” Jakotsu sighed, a soft smile curving his lips.

 

The squat little poison-master rolled his eyes and returned to his work. “Tomorrow at dawn, then.”

 

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