Scott McGough: Guardian, Saviors of Kamigawa

And in the center of it all, the founding members of the hyozan reckoners held each other’s eyes without blinking.

Outside Shinka, Toshi still stood where he had started. He had not moved at all while the battle raged behind him, and he didn’t move now as Hidetsugu began to heap mangled and headless corpses in front of the ochimusha. He was barely willing to adjust his eyes, but Toshi did see the parchment with the paralysis kanji hanging from the back of Hidetsugu’s clothing. He had slipped it onto the ogre’s wrap just as Hidetsugu leaped away from him. Now the parchment fluttered as the ogre went about his grisly work, its symbol whole, complete, and utterly without effect.

If he dared to move at all, Toshi would have shrugged. He had warned One-Eye it wouldn’t work.

Judging from the remains, One-Eye and the rest of the magic-using reckoners had all been burned to death in the ambush’s opening seconds. The heavyset assassin’s eye patch was still in place, but the thick wooden square was smoking and seared into his blackened flesh, the cursed eye forever closed behind it.

Much later, Hidetsugu ambled up to Toshi and sat facing the last of Uramon’s reckoners. He seemed calmer but still dangerous, like a bear after a huge meal. He inspected Toshi standing there with something quite like amusement, and then Hidetsugu gestured at the mark on Toshi’s face.

“Little kanji mage,” he said, “why did you put that symbol on your face where I could see it? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize it and attack you anyway?”

Toshi fought to keep his voice calm and his body from trembling. “It was a calculated risk. I don’t really feel the need to die for Uramon, but I wasn’t in a position to refuse her, either. I figured this was the safest way to make you understand: I can’t hurt you, I don’t even want to hurt you … but I will if you hurt me. I just hoped that you’d recognize the reflection kanji and leave me be. It’s not as if there weren’t plenty of other targets, plenty of other reckoners who were actually out to get you.”

“And if I didn’t recognize it,” Hidetsugu said, “whatever I tried to do to you would come straight back to me. Either way, you win.” The ogre grinned, displaying bloodstained teeth. “In the short term.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshi said uncomfortably. “I’d be lying if I said that hadn’t crossed my mind.”

Hidetsugu reached around and plucked the parchment from his wrap. “And this?”

“That … was his idea.” He gestured to One-Eye near the bottom of the corpse pile. “I advised against it.”

“But you did it anyway.”

“I did. You see, I’m nothing if not loyal.”

The o-bakemono laughed loudly. “That’s the biggest lie you’ve told me yet,” he said. “And yet somehow, I believe it.” The light in Hidetsugu’s eyes darkened, becoming more ominous. “But what am I to do with you now, little reckoner?”

“Well, I’ve given that some thought, too. I can’t go back home-Uramon will demand to know what happened, and why I was the only survivor. I’m still indentured to her, so technically she owns me.”

The ogre nodded as he considered Toshi’s position. “Might as well let me devour you now,” he offered.

“Or,” Toshi said smoothly, “we could come to an arrangement. I’m bound to Uramon, but I don’t want to be. You’re going to keep getting visits from the boss until she’s satisfied, and I bet you don’t want that. I don’t think you’re in any danger,” he nodded toward the corpse pile, “but it could become quite a nuisance.”

Hidetsugu perched his chin on his clenched fist, hanging on Toshi’s every word. He seemed honestly and thoroughly amused.

“I’ve been looking into forming my own gang of reckoners,” Toshi said. “The idea came to me when I realized that there’s no way to break a reckoner oath, but you can swear a new one. I figure, why should I put my life on the line for someone just because they own me? If I could get some … serious fellows like yourself to join me, we could get out from under the bosses altogether.”

“A reckoner gang,” Hidetsugu mused. “Without a boss? That’s almost novel.”

“Thank you. I figure we’d look out for each other rather than some crimelord’s reputation. And if we were demonstrably … serious, all of the bosses would soon see the value of leaving us alone. They’re all businessmen in the end, and they don’t do things without some form of profit. If it were ruinously expensive to cross us, eventually they wouldn’t bother.”

“This is an admirable idea you’ve had. What is your name?”

“Toshi Umezawa,” he said.

“An admirable idea, Toshi Umezawa. But I see several flaws.”

The ochimusha swallowed. “Fatal flaws?”

“Perhaps. First, you are not … serious enough on your own to make the kind of impression a new reckoner gang needs. And more, I doubt someone so young has learned the fine art of a truly binding blood oath.”

Toshi smiled his most winning smile. “That’s where you come in, noble o-bakemono.”

Hidetsugu’s nostrils flared. “That’s another flaw. You interest me, ochimusha, but as soon as I no longer feel full, I’m going to bite off your head and swallow it whole.” The ogre’s eyes sparkled and cast out tiny sparks.

“Oh.” Toshi sagged where he stood. “That’s not good for me.”

“No. It is not.” Hidetsugu rocked back and placed his hands palm-up on his knees. He closed his eyes and fell totally still as if meditating.

Toshi decided to stake everything on one last throw of the dice. “All right,” he said. “What if you take me on as your pupil? I know the o-bakemono train apprentices to maintain their influence. Ogre magic is some of the strongest and most feared in all Kamigawa, but it’s worthless if no one practices it. Teach me, and your name will still be spoken in fearful whispers for generations after you’re dead.”

Hidetsugu’s eyes remained closed, but he smiled. “You are not as well-informed as you think, my friend. That would also kill you, only it would be much more protracted and painful. None of my last four would-be apprentices survived more than a month.”

Toshi decided to risk a bit of bravado, hoping it would impress the ogre. “Give me a try. You won’t be disappointed.”

The o-bakemono’s lids snapped open and he fixed Toshi with a withering stare. “No, ochimusha,” he said. “You are too clever, too independent to be a proper student. And I already have my next two apprentices selected. No, I can save myself a lot of time by killing you now.”

He extended his hand as if to grab Toshi, but the ochimusha yelled, “Wait! Make me an offer. There must be something that you need or want. Put me to work and we’ll both profit.”

The ogre’s hand stopped just a few feet from Toshi. He could not see Hidetsugu behind the rough palm and thick, clawed fingers, but he heard the ogre’s voice clearly.

“You seem remarkably dedicated to striking a bargain with me. Do you appreciate how dangerous that is?”

“Maybe I don’t,” Toshi said. “But I don’t have many options, do I?”

Hidetsugu lowered his hand. “All right, ochimusha. I will set a task for you, something to prove yourself useful. In ten days I go collect my next student. It will take me years to train him.”

“If he survives.”

“If he survives. I would prefer not to be disturbed by any more of Uramon’s lackeys while I test him. It only draws the process out.

“Convince Uramon to leave me be until next spring. I will know by then if I have a new apprentice or another failure. In return, I will join your gang of freelance reckoners.” The ogre’s eyes flared bright red. “I may even help you craft the spell that binds us.”