Scott McGough: Outlaw:Champions of Kamigawa

With a sickening wrench, Hidetsugu withdrew and yanked the hot iron from his student's flesh. Kobo staggered, but did not fall. Slowly, he straightened back to his full height and folded his arms across his chest, his wrist just below the smoking wound. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wet, but his face was a rigid mask of indifference.

Hidetsugu then plunged the smoking brand into the bucket, raising a small cloud of steam.

"Get out," the ogre said to the twin bandits. He turned to the akki and jerked his head toward the incline. "You, too. You asked for my blessing and my advice. I have given both. Go."

"Thank you, Hidetsugu o-bakemono." To their credit, the bandits did not let their fear show, but Toshi could tell they were rattled. As they moved to the exit, they had none of the synchronized precision that had characterized their movements before. They were simply two men in a hurry, going in the same direction.

If Toshi was reading the akki's facial expression correctly, Ben-Ben was more transparently awed but also less frightened. Maybe not all goblins lived in a constant state of confusion, but this one certainly did. He tipped his soggy fish hat and made his unsteady way toward the incline, avoiding the patches of light as best he could.

When he was alone with Hidetsugu and Kobo, Toshi snapped, "What in the rocky gray hell was that all about? There is no way I'm getting involved with their turf war. They'll never see me again if I can help it."

Hidetsugu tossed the brand aside and hooked the bucket with his smallest finger. He extended his massive arm to Toshi and waved the steaming container under the ochimusha's nose.

"Drink," he said.

"Drop dead." He glared suspiciously into the milky-white liquid. Blackened flesh floated on its surface. "I'm not swigging from a bucket of apprentice stew."

The bucket did not waver. "Drink," Hidetsugu repeated.

The ogre mage didn't have to threaten. His entire being, from his posture to his glaring expression, spoke volumes about what was in store if Toshi refused again.

Toshi swore, inhaled, and took the bucket. He held his breath, raised the bucket to his lips, and took a long, slow draught.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, once, twice, and then Toshi dropped the bucket and staggered back.

"Gyah," he said. He spit into the brazier and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What have you been feeding him, Hidetsugu, yak dung? He's gamier than a nezumi pig farm."

Hidetsugu ignored Toshi and spoke to his apprentice.

"Light the brazier on the south wall." As the bald youth disappeared into the darkness, Toshi could see the angry wound on his breast still smoking.

Hidetsugu turned to face him. "You saw symbols, ochimusha, portents," he said. "Come and see what I have seen."

Toshi spat out another fragment of Kobo and followed the ogre. From the sound of the echoes, they were approaching the wall of Hidetsugu's cavern. The o-bakemono's footsteps stopped and Toshi stepped around him so that they were side by side.

"You've gone soft out here, Hidetsugu," he said. "Even if things are bad, I never thought I'd see you socializing with-"

Toshi fell silent as the brazier before them lit up. The flames revealed a surprisingly elegant mosaic on the wall, composed of tiny chips of polished red and black rock. The figure in the mosaic was a nightmarish combination of teeth and jaws, topped by three malevolent eyes arranged in a triangle. The figure was surrounded by a cloud of bat-winged scavengers.

Above the figure were kanji that spelled out a title: The Ail-Consuming Oni of Chaos. Toshi was not sure if the kanji were the mosaic's title, or the creature's.

Below the mosaic, nailed into the rock of the cavern wall, was the motionless form of a ponderous kami. It was wet and heavy, like a deep-sea fish out of water. It was even shaped like a fish, with a thick upper body that narrowed and then expanded again in to a wide, flat tail. It had rounded, club-like appendages jutting from under its misshapen head, and a crooked vertical mouth lined with rows of triangular teeth all the way down its throat. Small, sharp, shells shaped like crescent moons floated listlessly around it. When one of these shells touched the iron spikes that pinned the kami to the wall, they cracked and fell to the cold stone floor.

"It came here looking for you," Hidetsugu said. "It called your name as it manifested. I had to put it aside quickly, but now that the meeting is over and you're here, you can tell me."

Toshi stared dumbfounded at the pinned spirit beast. In his experience, kami were either alive and mobile or dead and broken, but they were never helpless captives. The thought of what it must have taken to pin this great beast to the wall and keep it quiescent without killing it made Toshi shudder.

"Your problems are mine, oath-brother," Hidetsugu said. His rumbling voice made Toshi's spine vibrate. "So I must know."

He grabbed Toshi around the waist and lifted him to eye level, where his foul breath blew the ochimusha's hair around like a summer squall.

"What have you done, Toshi," he husked, "to bring the wrath of the spirit world upon us?"

The rational side of Toshi's mind told him he had nothing to fear. Hidetsugu was capable of crushing him to death on a whim, but the ogre would not without great risk to himself. The oath that bound them was both a blessing and a curse-if they turned on each other, the effects would be unpredictable and disastrous. Toshi tried to think in Hidetsugu's iron grip, struggling to come up with an out that would appeal to the o-bakemono. Reason could sway an ogre sage, provided he were calm enough to listen to it.

Toshi failed to develop a convincing argument, however, because he was unable to focus on anything but Hidetsugu's awful teeth and the powerful jaw that housed them. The heat, the stench that rolled off of the o-bakemono eclipsed every other sensation. In the end, it was not Toshi's mind, but his body that determined his response.

"Can't," he rasped, "breathe."

"Whisper, then." Hidetsugu shook him gently in the air, and Toshi felt his ribs creak.

"Don't know," Toshi flared. He winced, pushing vainly against the thick fingers around his waist. Then he gulped another breath of air. "Moonfolk chased me." He grimaced. "Saw portents. Came here."

Hidetsugu rotated his wrist so that Toshi was parallel to the floor. "You didn't rob a soratami shrine? Or kill a moonfolk priest?"

"No," Toshi wheezed. His eyes narrowed and he squeezed more air into his lungs. "Put me down… oath-brother. You know I… keep clear of the kami and their stooges. I'll tell you… everything I know. I… came for help. Remember?"

Hidetsugu turned Toshi around so that they were eye to eye. He looked deep into the ochimusha's face. Toshi felt his lips swelling, and it seemed that both his eyes and eardrums were bulging out of his skull.

"Put me down," he said. "Or kill me." With as much dignity as he could muster, the red-faced rogue crossed his arms and stared angrily up at Hidetsugu.

"You're hiding something," the ogre said. "But then, I expect no less from you."

Hidetsugu opened his fist and Toshi fell heavily onto his knees. With his arms wrapped around his bent rib cage, Toshi coughed and tried to regain his breath.

The ogre waited patiently while Toshi sucked air. When the ochimusha made it up to one knee, Hidetsugu said, "You really don't know, do you?"

Toshi ran an exploring hand over his rib cage one last time. "Know what?"

"That the kami attacks are growing worse, more frequent and more dangerous than ever. They go places they should not go, places they should not be able to go." He pointed to the marine-looking kami on the wall. "Does that look like a mountain spirit to you?"