Laura Rowland - The Assassin's Touch

Reiko thrust her hands against Yugao’s thighs and shoved.

Yugao went stumbling backward. Surprise changed her expression. She tripped on her hem, lost her balance, and fell on her side. “You sneaky little whore!”

Reiko leapt from her corner as she whipped the knife from behind her. Yugao scrambled to her feet. Howling in rage, she lunged for Reiko. Reiko gave up hope of capturing Yugao. It would be enough if she got herself out of the house alive. She ran for the door, but Yugao sprang into her path and slashed furiously at her. Reiko dodged, jumping sideways, ducking her head, as the knife carved wild swathes through the air and cut her robes. The fabric swished in tatters as she wielded her own knife, parrying Yugao’s slashes. Yugao moved so fast that there seemed to be a hundred blades whizzing around Reiko.

“You could have stopped him!” Yugao screamed. She struck with such ferocious power that every collision of their blades almost knocked Reiko’s out of her hand. “But you pretended not to see. You let him do it. You treated me as if it was my fault!”

She sliced through Reiko’s sleeve. Reiko felt pain sear her upper arm. She faltered. Yugao was a tornado of waving arms, flying hair, and foul curses. Her knife whistled past Reiko’s ear. Reiko felt warm, wet blood trickle down her neck.

“He was mine!” Yugao shrieked. “You took him away from me!”

Insane with fury, she chased Reiko around the room. In her mind Reiko saw the bloody footprints in the hovel. Yugao was reliving the night of the murders. She thought Reiko was her mother and sister.

“You let me kill him. Now you’re going to die!”

On the lower roof of the house, Sano thrashed and heaved, trying to throw Kobori off him. Kobori hung on. His hands struck, his fingers jabbed, his knees and elbows gouged Sano in sensitive places where nerves intersected. His energy shot like fireworks exploding along Sano’s muscles. Sano yelled in agony as they jerked and seized. He managed to raise his knee between himself and Kobori. He pushed with all his strength.

Dislodged, Kobori flew backward. He fell, somersaulted toes over head, then sprang upright. Sano staggered to his feet. Every part of him ached. He swayed like a scarecrow in the wind, while Kobori stood poised to attack again.

“So you think you can take me? What are you waiting for?” Kobori taunted him.

Every breath tore the membranes of Sano’s lungs. Unarmed combat had never been his forte, and six months of sitting at a desk hadn’t helped. He recalled how rusty he’d been when he sparred with Koemon, and his friend hadn’t been trying to kill him. Fighting panic, Sano sought to distract Kobori and prevent him from concentrating his body’s and mind’s energy into a death-touch.

“I’m waiting for you to realize that your crusade is pointless,” Sano said. Maybe he could also demoralize and weaken Kobori. “The war is over.

“It’s not over as long as I’m alive,” Kobori said. “You’ll be my biggest conquest.”

They advanced on each other, Sano’s gait hobbled by pain, Kobori’s surefooted and deliberate. Sano raised his hands, preparing to strike or defend as best he could. Kobori curved his back. He moved with his elbows bent, one arm raised, the other hanging loose. His eyes took on a strange sheen. Energy radiated from him like a vibrant, frenetic hum just beyond the range of hearing. Sano could see his face and hands in sharp detail, as if they gave off their own light, in contrast to his black clothes. Only a few paces separated Sano and Kobori, when Kobori leaped into the air. His legs flew at Sano. One foot tapped Sano’s chin just under his bottom lip.

Sano felt his teeth slam together, his head snap back. He reeled and fell to his knees. His vision swam as if the light but powerful blow had loosened his eyes. Kobori was standing in the same spot as before he’d struck. He’d attacked and retreated so fast that it seemed he hadn’t moved at all and he’d projected his image, and his force, at Sano. His energy hummed; his grin flashed narrow and bright.

“Your turn,” he said. “Or are you giving up?”

No matter how hopeless his situation was, Sano refused to yield. He struck out at Kobori. But Kobori slid away from the blow. Sano tried again, and again. Kobori seemed to know what Sano was going to do before Sano did. He was never where he’d been when Sano struck at him. He disappeared, then reappeared elsewhere, as though flashing in and out of existence. Frantic, Sano threw his fist at Kobori’s ribs. Kobori blocked the blow. His knuckles slammed Sano’s wrist.

The breath whooshed out of Sano. His chest caved in. He slumped over, gasping like a fish on dry land, amazed that the blow should affect his body so far from the point of impact. Kobori must have channeled his energy along his nerves from his wrist to his lungs. As he fought for air, Kobori raked his fingers across the skin beside Sano’s right eye. Sano felt momentarily dazed, as if he’d just woken up in a strange place with no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there.

Kobori had struck nerves that impaired his mind.

Terror bit deep and hard into Sano. Every attack he launched came back at him. The only time he made contact with Kobori was when Kobori parried one of his blows and simultaneously dealt him another. Sano staggered while Kobori kicked his legs, jabbed his back and shoulders. With each strike Kobori uttered an explosive breath, like the whup of burning tinder dashed with kerosene. Nausea and vertigo accompanied the pain that flared throughout Sano’s body. He took a swipe at Kobori and knocked himself off balance. As he careened down the roof, Kobori snatched his wrist. He whipped Sano around, and hit him below his navel.

Sano’s heartbeat accelerated to a fast, frenetic drumming. Pressure swelled inside his head, as though it would burst. He shouted above the roar of blood in his ears.

Yugao slashed her blade at Reiko. Reiko whirled, darted, and lashed back, but although she’d won many other battles, she’d never fought anyone like Yugao. Compared to her past opponents, Yugao was an amateur, no match for Reiko’s training or experience. But what she lacked in combat skill, she compensated for with recklessness and determination. Reiko cut Yugao’s arms and face, but Yugao seemed impervious to pain, unaware of her blood spattering the floor as they fought.

Thumps and crashes against the roof punctuated their cries. Reiko was drenched with sweat, panting from exhaustion while she ducked and slashed, pivoted and swung. As Yugao attacked her with undiminished, maniacal strength, Reiko stepped on a loop of cloth that hung from her torn sleeve. It caught her foot. She tripped and sprawled on her back. Yugao came flying at her, the knife raised in her hands. Her face shone with ferocious, unholy triumph. She threw herself toward Reiko. As the knife slashed a downward arc aimed at her face, Reiko grasped her own weapon tight in her fists and lunged up to meet Yugao.

Yugao ran straight into Reiko’s blade. Reiko felt it slice through flesh. Yugao uttered a terrible, piercing, agonized scream. Her eyes popped wide; her hands released her knife and waved frantically. Then she fell on Reiko.

Her weight knocked Reiko flat. The blade sank up to its hilt inside Yugao. Reiko exclaimed as she felt her hands pressed against Yugao’s body, the awful sensation of internal organs cut, and the wet warmth of blood.

Yugao flung out her arms, which broke her fall. For a moment her face was close to Reiko’s. Yugao stared at Reiko, her expression marked by shock, pain, and fury. She pushed herself off Reiko and sat, legs outstretched. Reiko clambered to her feet, her heart thudding, ready to run or fight again if need be. She snatched up the knife that Yugao had dropped.