Zenko Read online

  The Woodland Creek Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2015 © J. Rose Alexander

  Published by JRA Stevens

  Cover by Jennifer Munswami

  For J.M Rising Horse Creations

  Edited by Emily A. Lawrence

  Formatted by JRA Stevens

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Melody Hastings has gone missing.

  Sick and suffering from a teenage mishap, Melody is a child in a woman’s body. The town of Woodland Creek turns out to help her father find her—but with Running Deer State Forest in their backyard, the search is going to be hard.

  Ava Tsukino knows where she is.

  No one will believe her if she tells them, because Ava harbors a secret like so many in Woodland Creek. She is a kami, a Japanese spirit who takes on the shape of a red fox. Ava knows there is very little time to find Melody, because someone is after the woman’s blood at the full moon.

  Blaze Riordan can find her.

  But he and his father are under the thumb of his grandmother. Forced to follow a path she’s picked for him, he feels trapped and afraid to break out her safe, predictable, planned world. He wants to get away, but doesn’t know what he can do to prove he’s his own man.

  Until a little red fox leads him deep into the woods, begging his help to find the missing woman...

  Table of Contents:

  Map

  Part One

  Part Two

  Part Three

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Interlude: Blessing

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Part Four

  Woodland Creek Series

  About the Author

  For more maps and information, please visit the

  Woodland Creek Website

  http://woodlandcreekseries.com/

  A time ago, in another land…

  Pika

  The Empire was crumbling. Steeped in all their honor and tradition, the stubborn souls around them would not admit they were failing at a fool’s errand.

  From the beginning all the prayers he and the others heard pass from the lips of the faithful were returned with the warning, “You awaken a sleeping giant. Do not ally yourself with that which does not seek to preserve life.”

  Very few heard the returned warning. Fewer heeded it.

  And then the killing started and the few who were still answering prayers began to die.

  The scrying glass had told them all the dark times were coming, but it was possible—no, likely—they had underestimated what a depraved and twisted soul could justify.

  They woke the giant. The ones he had sworn to protect and guide did not heed his warning.

  He and the others gathered in the Sacred Place, the place between waking and dreaming. The eldest spoke.

  “We are doomed. We are losing. Our shrines are polluted with the corrupt souls of those who seek only power.”

  “We are few,” Tetsuo stated. “We will become fewer when burning light comes.”

  “I do not understand the burning light,” another remarked. “It does not make sense. There is no honor in scorching our bones.”

  “There is honor in seeking balance. That is what The Giant wants,” the eldest said.

  “To destroy our very skin?” the other asked.

  “Have our people not done the same?”

  Tetsuo nodded. “We must go. We must take the kits and flee. There are those who would understand and hide us. It is time to spread Inari through the world and not hide here. We risk our own destruction.”

  The eldest looked at him. “There are a few with kits, and yes, Tatsuo. You are right. They must go. They must save our legacy. The nine tails who have kits in their lineage must leave and leave now. We will send all with kits away.” The eldest turned to his partner. “When does the burning light come, my love?”

  “We have mere months. Far less than our Emperor would have us believe.”

  “Why do we not simply stop the burning light from coming?” The others nodded in agreement with the question.

  The elder sighed. “We have tried. We have sent the auspicious dreams to those who would be able to stop the light. But they are consumed with greed and power, and they do not honor the Inari with their actions. The dreams go undreamt.”

  All those gathered—a number far smaller than Tatsuo remembered from his young day—mumbled and exchanged low words. Tatsuo spoke again. “The kits must go. The youngest must go. We have suffered at the hands of those who do not honor us. Our young must be saved.”

  “Your son-in-law—”

  “Has died in the battle.” Tatsuo felt the tears of sad pride in his eyes. “Only just. My daughter does not yet know. Their kit is young and I will see her safe.”

  The elder nodded. “Go, then. Where will you hide them?”

  “In the very heart of the beast.”

  * * *

  His sweet musume had wept quiet tears the past ten days. Her mourning was her strength— she knew to honor her husband she must see that their kit survived.

  Her honorable, mortal human husband, Katsuo. A name so like his own, bearing the auspices of such. He had loved his musume with a consuming, endearing love that had given Tatsuo the change of heart he needed to bless their union.

  And as honorable as he was, Katsuo had refused the Immortal Kiss until he returned from war. His intention, again, was nothing but noble: if he died in battle, it would be only days that his Miyako would follow him, leaving Mizuki alone. And Mizuki needed guidance.

  The tiny kit was bundled carefully in a bamboo trunk, cushioned and sleeping under her grandfather’s influence. They didn’t need the ‘yip’ of the young to bring attention to them. The people they huddled with on the truck to the Sea of Japan to cross to Korea did not need to know there were two Inari among them. They would all arrive safely, thanks to them, but they did not need to know that.

  Mortals, more and more, were turning away from their spiritual tradition to the cold arms of science. It would take time for them to realize there was necessary balance between them. The harsh reality of science would soon hit Nippon, the Land of the Rising Sun, with ’its cold, cruel, calculated fist.

  They had less than a week to get to Korea. The pika was coming—and soon. The elders had confided in those who were told to flee; time was not on their side and to run as fast and as hard as they could.

  The war-torn countryside made for rough going. The truck—a captured American vehicle jerry-rigged to run—dragged them slowly across the island of Honshu. They had been on the road for ten days, picking and pecking their way from their little house outside of Mitsuke, in Niigata Prefecture to the place where the ferry would start them on their way to China, far in the south.

  Fukuoka in the south of the country was another world, but the ferry there would take them to Tsushima Island, where a boat would then take them to Tongyeong. As long as the fishing boat came in away from Busan, Korea, they would not be considered suspicious. Tatsuo was not opposed to using his magic, but he preferred not to interfere with mortals’ comings and goings. As he had been taught by his chourou, it was always better to let the mortals be mortals.

  The country he had so loved tumbled by, looking ruined. It was going to get worse, they had all agreed. The auspicious dreams were left undreamt and the destruction of their world was coming. Not the end of them—the Inari would carry on. The end of the beautiful culture that his people had created and had flourished, that he and his kind had come to love and protect, and bless those who were most honorable.

  “Chichi, I do not wish to leave our lands,” Miyako said, her sobs subsiding for just a few moments.

  “I know, musume. I do not wish to leave either. But we carry precious life. We are the guardians of the tradition and the future. We must sacrifice for the good of all Inari.”

  Both of them looked out the window and watched the sign roll by the outside of the truck. Hiroshima, it said in kanji.

  Tatsuo memorized what he saw there. “This is where our world will begin to end. This is where the pika starts. The don will follow, and the echo through the world. The giant will sleep no more, and those who destroy us are the same who will lift us up to a new glory.” He glanced at his daughter mourning her husband, her home, her way of life, her people, her very land. He understood her pain on a level he wished he did not. There was nothing left here for them; the Inari would not be able to help the Rising Sun. It would have to Rise on a new land, on a new home the Inari chose. “We will live, we will thrive. We honor those who have given for us and unto us a new li
fe. Our kits, our young, are the vestige of a new age, and we must protect that legacy for them.”

  He turned to his daughter. “Remember this place, musume. Remember it and hold it in your heart. You will be the last of those who will. You will be the only one who remembers the glory of the Empire, the honor it once held. Your daughter will be of a new place, a new empire. She will have a different honor to uphold and we can only pray that Ameratsu will help us in our new lands as she has helped us here.”

  “I miss my shujin,” Miyako whispered into the wind.

  “Your heart always will,” Tatsuo answered. “Keep him there. For your daughter.”

  Miyako’s eyes saw and beheld the dying land before them. “We are the last, otusan?”

  “No, never,” he said. “I am old, but you are still young. Love may yet blossom again.”

  “Within the arms of the rousing giant?”

  “The giant is roused to protect those who call it home. It is a young giant and has many difficult roads ahead. But at the center, it has a pure heart. Nothing will be easy for us, musume.”

  “Has anything ever?”

  “Let your heart mourn, Miyako. Let your eyes see. Let your mind remember. Let your arms shelter. Someday, you will know it is the best way we can live and know life.”

  Don

  The spit hit him above his eye, and he did not move to wipe it off. “Fuckin’ Jap. Go back to your Jap land with your damn Jap friends. We don’t want you here.”

  Tatsuo moved to shield his daughter and her precious cargo. “I am deeply sorry for your suffering, honorable soldier. My people were misled by those who promised great power to them.”

  “I don’t want your fuckin’ pity.”

  “I offer none. Only my apologies for my people.”

  This confused the man just enough that Tatsuo was able to push Miyako and the cart out of the way and down the street. The uncomfortable stares of the people on the street said everything he needed to know. They truly were not welcome here. He’d had hope that this city, Chicago, would be more welcoming than Boston. But it appeared that trying to settle his family and their power into such a burgeoning metropolis was going to fail and fail badly.

  Keeping his proud head down, he got them back to the boarding house just on the outskirts of Chinatown. It hadn’t been ideal, but they could stay there safely and blend into the rest of the Asian population, exploiting the American ignorance of the various cultures.

  “Otusan,” Miyako said, “I am tired of hiding and being mistreated. Is there nothing we can do?”

  Tatsuo nodded. “I have a few more ideas here, musume. Be patient. Meanwhile, ’your daughter needs you.”

  Miyako nodded, opening the carrier that held her small kit. The happy little pup jumped right out and yipped twice at her mother. Tatsuo saw genuine love and happiness on his daughter’s face as the wiggling little creature made her way onto her mother’s lap, nuzzling and nudging her. The babe was hungry again.

  Miyako called her magic and Tatsuo watched his daughter take her other form. He was momentarily surprised—Miyako had three tails now! He let his daughter settle on the bed, and allowed her kit to settle in for her meal. He sat next to her and stroke her soft fur as he had when she was a kit.

  “Three tails, musume. When?”

  Just after we arrived in Boston, Miyako answered.

  “You are wise beyond your years, my sweet daughter. You make an old kitsune proud.”

  I wish it had not been so.

  “I understand.”

  The door slammed open, and the Chinese caretaker swarmed into the room, screaming in Mandarin. She was pointing to Tatsuo and shaking her fingers at him. He was so startled that his ability to understand what she was screaming took a two full sentences to catch up to her.

  “…heard barking and we don’t allow dogs in here! Dogs belong on the street, chasing cats and not dirtying my sheets and home. Filthy animals! How dare you—”

  Tatsuo grabbed her finger to stop its wild travels around the room. “Madam. Control yourself. There are no dogs in this room.”

  “I heard the barking!”

  “It was a yip, madam. From the kitsune.”

  “From the…” She started to look terrified.

  “Jiuweihu.” Tatsuo offered the Mandarin word to her, knowing its implications. He stepped back to reveal the mother and kit on the bed.

  The caretaker gasped and let out a string of shocked and inappropriate words. “Good spirits! Oh, dear ancestors! Good spirits!” She looked at Tatsuo desperately.

  “They are zenko,” he answered. “The Japanese word for good fox. They are blessing spirits up on your house, madam. I sought only a place for them to rest before moving us on to another place.”

  “Jiuweihu.” She made a sign with her finger that Tatsuo recognized as asking a blessing. “You are welcome here. You are. Will you allow me to bring a priest to see the jiuweihu? He is old and his faith is strong, but he has never been so blessed as I have been today.”

  Tatsuo nodded. “Go, bring your great father. I will bring him blessings.”

  She scurried off, closing the door carefully.

  Chichi? Are we truly safe here?

  “I believe we are,” he answered. “Her heart is good. And the priest…he may have the answer I’m looking for.” He smiled at her on the bed. “Care for your kit, Miyako. Do not fear this. You know our power.”

  I only fear for my little one, chichi.

  The now happily full kit was settling quietly against her mother. She yipped gently and curled into her. Tatsuo smiled at the little one. He could see a future with the beautiful young one. She needed to run free, though…not hide in crates and sleep for days at a time.

  The priest could have the answers.

  As the caretaker had promised, he was an old man. Wizened by experience, he was hunched with his knowledge of years. Tatsuo welcomed him into the room and watched his face light when he realized the jiuweihu was really on the bed.

  “Three tails only, Master?” The question was not insulting for he did not mean it to be.

  “Three, only, priest. She is young still.”

  “The pup is yours?”

  Tatsuo laughed. “No. This jiuweihu is my daughter and her daughter.”

  “You are Inari Okami?” He stepped back.

  “We are Inari, not Okami. We are the messengers. We have left our ancestral home to save our race. When the don came, we were gone already. We have traveled far and long and bestowed many blessings. We seek a home. It is clear to me that here in America, the city is no place for my daughter and her kit. We must find a place where all of us may run and run free as we need. My own jiuweihu longs to be set free and run as we once did in Japan.”

  The priest nodded and looked at Miyako resting on the bed. “May I?”

  Tatsuo nodded, with a smile. “She is most gentle and careful. She is a mother and she mothers well. You may ask a favor of her.”

  Oh, otusan. You know I am not good at favors.

  Three-tailed, daughter, you grow wise. You have grown in strength as well.

  She yipped at him gently, but turned her head and the old priest gently ran a hand down the red fur on the nape of her neck. He found a soft spot behind her ear and scratched gently. His daughter was very pleased with the priest’s careful actions.

  “What is the blessing you seek?”

  “My daughter is barren,” he said quietly. “She grows old, but more she grows disheartened by her fruitless womb. She has a fine and understanding husband to care for her, but they seek the joys of a little one.”

  Miyako yipped quietly. That is an easy request! Otusan—

  Do as you wish, daughter. It is your favor and blessing to give.

  Tell him his daughter will bear a fine son and a fine daughter, and he will be blessed with life long enough and mind strong enough to see a great-grandchild. His blessing was not for himself and such selflessness is great in our eyes.

  Tatsuo nodded, relaying her words proudly. This little kitsune had listened as she grew.

  “You honor my house with your greatness, Master.” He bowed deeply. “I know of a place that you may be happy to find your freedom. It is not terribly far from here, if the stories are true. A community of huli jing. Or, partly. You would not stand out for your abilities, Master. Merely that you have come from the Orient.”