Laura Rowland - The Incense Game

“I’m going, but you can tell Yoshisato I’ll be back,” Yanagisawa said.

Hirata peered down at the incense teacher’s house. Incense bowls and tools, the cushions, and even the tatami mats were gone. Since yesterday the room had been picked clean by people desperate for anything they could use or sell. Hirata would have left someone to guard the scene, had he known he would be investigating the crime.

Large white flakes sifted from the sky. It was snowing. That would certainly help the suffering folks of Edo, and if there were any clues left in the house, Hirata had better find them before the snow ruined them. He lowered himself through the hole and dropped into the room. There he discovered something he hadn’t noticed yesterday. The rest of the house tilted at a steep angle farther down into the crack. Fallen rafters and massive rocks blocked off the other rooms. Hirata put his shoulder against a rock and exerted his mental concentration and physical strength against it. The rock wouldn’t budge. No one else was around to help.

A cheery voice called, “Hello down there!”

Hirata looked up to see three faces around the rim of the hole. Tahara, Kitano, and Deguchi peered at him. He cursed under his breath. “What do you want?”

“You know,” Tahara said with a winning smile.

“Forget it.” Hirata crouched, raised his arms, and sprang.

He caught the earth at the edge of the hole. Deguchi pulled him up as if he were as light as the snowflakes that melted against his face. Kitano asked, “What were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Hirata said.

Tahara’s high eyebrow lowered in displeasure at Hirata’s curtness. “You must be on an investigation.” He glanced at the sunken house. “Looks like a big job. Want some help?”

The last thing Hirata wanted was to put himself in their debt, but he needed to get into those rooms, and he couldn’t fail Sano. “Sure,” he said. “Make yourselves useful for a change.”

“First, let’s make a deal,” Kitano said. “We excavate the house. You do the ritual.”

“I should have known there would be a catch.” Hirata decided that the ritual was a small price to pay. “All right.”

Tahara, Kitano, and Deguchi lined up along the chasm. Hands held out from their sides, their feet planted wide, they gazed down. “Stand back,” Tahara said.

Hirata complied. Their aura pulsed, slow and faint, then with a force that strengthened tremendously with each throb. The humor disappeared from Tahara’s face. Kitano’s jaw tightened under the scarred skin. Deguchi’s eyes shone so brightly that Hirata almost expected their sockets to burn black. The air around the chasm shimmered, as if from rising heat waves. Hirata heard movement inside the buried part of the house. A broken rafter suddenly flew up from the chasm and landed at his feet. Hirata gaped at it, then at his companions.

“I didn’t know you could-”

Their attention was concentrated on the chasm. Timbers, roof tiles, wall panels, and rocks propelled themselves upward, onto a pile that accumulated on the ground. The men’s bodies were rigid, their fists clenched. Sweat dripped down their contorted, straining faces. Within moments the debris was emptied out of the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me-?”

Groans burst from Tahara and Kitano. Deguchi’s throat jerked. The chasm opened wider, its edges pried apart like lips separated by massive jaws. The house began to rise up from the depths. Splintered beams and boards emerged above ground level, accompanied by the noise of wood scraping against rock. Stunned, Hirata watched the house levitate, its broken plank walls and window frames and torn paper panes coming into view, then its base and stone foundation pillars. It hovered above the chasm like a corpse resurrected.

Kitano and Tahara bellowed. A visible energy wave emanated from Deguchi’s speechless mouth. The men stepped backward. The roofless house wafted through the air toward them and gently landed on the space they’d vacated. Their aura turned off abruptly. The house crumbled into a heap of ruins. The three men bent over, hands on their knees, shaking and gasping.

Hirata regarded them with disbelief, admiration, and envy. “I want to learn to do that. Show me how.”

“No.” Tahara spat froth onto the ground. “You’re not ready.”

“What do you mean? I’m one of you. Whatever knowledge you have, we should share equally.”

Kitano chortled between gasps. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m tired of hearing that. And I’m tired of your keeping secrets from me. I want to learn how to do what you just did, and I won’t take no for an answer!” Hirata put his hand on Tahara’s bent head and shoved.

Tahara stumbled sideways and bumped into Kitano, who bumped Deguchi. They fell down, one after another, and sat on the ground, too exhausted to get up. For once Hirata was stronger than they were. If he wanted to defeat them, so that he need never fear them or take orders from them anymore, now was the time. He saw dismay in their eyes as they read his thought. Then Tahara and Deguchi smiled; Kitano’s eyes crinkled with sardonic humor.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Tahara said. “We’re the only people in the world who can do it. If we die, the knowledge dies with us.”

“If you won’t teach it to me, why are you worth more to me alive than dead?” Hirata countered.

A tense moment passed while he stared down Tahara, Kitano, and Deguchi. At last Tahara said, “All right. We’ll teach you. After the ritual.”

Hirata felt a thrill of triumph. The men struggled to their feet. Tahara clapped Hirata’s shoulder. “We’ll call for you tomorrow night.”

Watching them saunter away, Hirata cursed. They had him where they wanted him. But they’d fulfilled their part of the bargain. He owed them a ritual.

The snow was falling harder, the air white with feathery flakes that frosted the remains of the house. Sano would be expecting results. Hirata got to work. Lifting and throwing aside beams and planks, he smelled the smoke from the poisoned incense. He tied a cloth over his nose and mouth, then uncovered cabinets, tables, and lacquered screens that had been crushed during the earthquake. Shattered dishware lay among pots and utensils in what had once been the kitchen. Rain had seeped into the chasm, ruining clothes, mattress, and bed linens. In Usugumo’s workroom, fallen shelves had smashed valuable incense bowls into porcelain fragments. He found a broken scale, mortars and pestles, oddly shaped vessels, and measuring spoons. Fragrant roots, dried leaves, spices, and powders had spilled from broken ceramic urns. Hirata began to wonder if the favor done him by Tahara, Kitano, and Deguchi had served no purpose but to enmesh him more tightly with them. He excavated the entire floor of the house and found nothing that seemed to bear upon the murders. He kept working because he couldn’t return to Sano empty-handed.

He was making a final survey when the tatami gave way slightly under his foot, in what had been the bedchamber. Crouching, he pressed his hands against the mat and felt a square hole, about two paces wide, underneath. He flipped the mat and saw a compartment built into the floorboards. Inside was a small black iron trunk. The boards that had covered it had fallen inside the compartment, twisted loose by the earthquake.

Excited, Hirata lifted out the trunk and opened the lid. Gold and silver glittered. He blew out his breath as he picked up the heavy coins strung on thick twine. This was a fortune, many times more than Usugumo could have earned by giving incense lessons. Hirata dug through the coins. Under them he found a rectangular book the size of a woman’s hand, made of cheap, off-white paper, covered with rough black cloth, and tied with black ribbon. Hirata opened the book and saw black characters written in neat but inexpert calligraphy, like a clever child’s. He read formulas for different blends of incense, the secrets of Usugumo’s trade. The last two pages contained names and dates-a list of pupils and the schedule of their lessons. Hirata replaced the book in the trunk, closed the lid, and put the trunk in his horse’s saddlebag. Maybe this clue would help repair his relationship with Sano.