Only about 13 more chaps to go (pauses to catch breath).
Disclaimer: FB belongs to Natsuki Takaya, and anything else you recognize also doesn't belong to me.
Chapter 41
Finally, at the end of March, the temperatures had started to rise ever so slightly, announcing the slow arrival of spring. As Huki snuggled with Hanadzima in her family's comfortable living room, the possibilities for new dating opportunities flitted through his mind. Once the weather was warm enough, and the melting snow stopped freezing into ice overnight, he and Dzima could go to the park, or the cliffs overlooking the sea, or he could show her his garden one day…
Huki's thoughts skidded to a stop as he felt the presence of an unrelenting stare aimed at the back of his head. Dzima's little brother, Hozo, was checking on them again. Huki sighed softly. Hozo, six years younger than his sister, was just as enigmatic as she was. Dzima once told him what kind of mental power Hozo had, but his nervousness from Hozo's stare rendered his memory shaky. It occurred to Huki that the arrival of spring not only meant more outdoor opportunities, it meant more opportunities for him to be truly alone with Dzima.
Suddenly, the menacing presence disappeared. Hanadzima had sent Hozo an undisguised threat, via her waves, to do serious bodily harm if he didn't leave immediately.
"I'm sorry about Hozo," Hanadzima lifted her head off Huki's shoulder and ran a hand through her hair. "He's a little too protective of his dear sister." The rat almost didn't hear her words; her demure, monotonous voice held him spellbound.
"Huh? Oh, that's all right," said Huki.
"I agree with you. Once it gets warm again, we can go out where there are no relatives to spy on us." It had taken some time, but such omniscient statements from Hanadzima no longer surprised Huki. As he'd become better acquainted with her famous waves, he'd gradually learned their ways until they no longer intimidated them. Hanadzima now possessed such fine control over her waves that she could almost read people's minds; her ability to interpret waves had gotten that accurate. However, as she told Huki, she made a point of not using her waves for manipulation—the one exception being idiots who dared to threaten her loved ones.
"Huki." Hanadzima had stopped laughing about her relatives' spying tendencies. "How are things going in your family? You haven't told me anything in a while."
"The family?" The arm around Hanadzima's waist slackened slightly as Huki examined the ceiling. "It's been quiet. Very quiet."
Huki remained silent for a while. "But I don't think it'll last. And I don't think that's just my cynicism speaking, either."
Hanadzima agreed wholeheartedly with him, but made no sound or movement. Every time she'd gone over to Shehure's house since the summer, her waves had picked up unusual signals of stress from Huki's guardian. Shehure was keeping an enormous secret, and the same was true for Huki's older brother, Ahame. However, Hanadzima forbore grilling the men, sensing the necessity for silence. She had no clue what they had up their sleeves, and the wondering drove her nearly insane sometimes, but she would be quiet a little longer.
"Asheno's been sick a long time, as you know," continued Huki. "Actually, Hathori thinks he may die this spring. It couldn't be soon enough for me. I wish the curse would just finish him off right this moment."
"You really won't miss him if he dies?"
"He was terrible to you when I brought you to meet him! And not to mention the way he's treated Lhoru, Lhadoman, me, everyone else…" Various horrific memories began to drift through his mind, especially of that pitch dark cabinet Asheno had forced him to sit for hours in when he was a little boy.
"Do you ever worry about the next family head?" The sun's rays slanted through the window.
"I haven't even started thinking about that." Huki's face fell dramatically at the thought, and Hanadzima momentarily regretted asking the question. "Shit, why can't this cycle ever end?"
"Well, Huki, I was thinking…" The words tapered off as Hanadzima slowly recognized an abrupt change in Huki's waves.
"Dzima?" Huki asked concernedly. Seeing an obviously stunned look on Hanadzima's face was a rare event, since hardly anything ever startled her anymore. Her breathing sped up noticeably. "Dzima, are you feeling sick?" His hand automatically went to her forehead.
"They're gone. They're gone." Her face had gone white, and she hyperventilated slightly. The white skin created an eerie contrast with her jet black hair, as though she had turned into a zombie. Suddenly, she lunged at Huki and wrapped her arms tightly around him. The force knocked Huki off balance, and the two sprawled on the floor.
"Dzima!" yelled Huki reflexively, preparing himself for the familiar popping sound that accompanied his transformation into a rat. But all he heard was his own thudding heartbeat in his ears. A minute passed, as Huki lay in shock on the floor with Hanadzima on top, still clinging to him. Nothing happened.
Finally, Hanadzima loosened her grip and raised herself off his chest, her normal color restored to her face. Her eyes still appeared flustered and her facial muscles remained stiff. Her lips twitched, working. Then she smiled, a rare, glorious sun-filled smile out of place with her dark coloring.
"Your animal vibes are gone. You're not a rat anymore!" Hanadzima hugged Huki joyfully, and once again Huki didn't transform.
"I didn't change?" Huki asked dumbly. He felt the softness of Hanadzima's body pressed against his, and the revelation seeped into his mind. "I didn't change. I didn't change!" Daring to hope that it wasn't too good to be true, Huki allowed himself to smile as freely as Hanadzima did, savoring the long-forbidden act of being able to embrace his loved one for real. Both of them began crying happily. Hanadzima's grandmother hovered in the doorway, wondering what on earth was going on.
Meanwhile, Lhadoman had been sparring with Khazuma in the training hall. Lhadoman delivered a sharp punch, and as his left hand connected with Khazuma's protective pads, something stung his wrist and a snapping sound burst into the air. Master and student watched in suspended horror as Lhadoman's precious bracelet fell apart, the bone-white and blood-red beads clattering onto the floor and exploding upon contact.
Khazuma's mind raced out of a natural instinct to cover up the curse; the hall was full of students today. They would all witness Lhadoman's transformation into the monster, and it would be a debacle. Lhadoman stared dully down at the mass of obliterated beads on the floor.
"Shoma-mharu, Lhadoman, are you all right?" Uthani, one of the assistant masters, cautiously asked. By now all the students and assistants had stopped and were staring at Khazuma and Lhadoman.
Of course, thought Khazuma. Karan. This was around the time she should be giving birth…
Two minutes passed, and nothing happened. Uthani hovered behind Khazuma, waiting for a signal from either man.
"I don't feel anything," croaked Lhadoman at long last. "Nothing." None of the usual pain resulting during the transformation into the monster had come, not even a twinge. His head felt light—no, his entire body felt light, as though a grievous burden had flitted away when the dreaded bracelet had shattered. The bracelet he had hated so much, yet was forced to cling to desperately as his only means of remaining in human form. Maybe he had finally been freed of the monster?
Naturally, the news spread like lightning through the cursed inner circle of the Shoma family, with Dzuni frantically hugging members of the opposite sex to see if it was really true, that the curse had somehow ended. Once a week, then another, had passed without any sign of the curse returning, the Dzuni relaxed and their fears that it had only been a remarkable lapse diminished. Every Dzuni was overjoyed, except for the four oldest.
Those four were now meeting in Shehure's house. The teenagers had gone for a night out on the city, to celebrate their liberation from the curse. Shehure, Hathori, Ahame, and Hatharu had the house to themselves, and they sat in the living room, struggling with their mixed feelings of ecstasy, uncertainty, and anxiety for the future.
Truthfully, tonight's gathering had a specific purpose: to reveal the plan to Hatharu. The three friends had decided it best to begin with the next oldest Dzuni, the level-headed one who had most contact with Asheno. Sooner or later they would have to confess to their feared family head.
"Hatharu, you're absolutely sure Asheno doesn't suspect?" Hathori watched his stoic younger brother very carefully. The bird's face could be quite blank and difficult to decipher often. Naturally, Hathori had the most expertise of reading Hatharu's expressions. It seemed to the doctor that Hatharu had begun to get a little more emotional since he started dating Lhoru's friend, the former gangster. Behind Asheno's back, of course. These days Hatharu smiled a little more easily, improving every day. The normally silent man had begun to make small talk with the servants and other Dzuni. Everybody had remarked upon that particular change to Hathori.
Hatharu looked straight across the coffee table at his brother. "No. Asheno's still too ill to pay enough attention to the Dzuni." As Asheno's personal servant, the task of placing cool cloths on Asheno's hot forehead, feeding him in small spoonfuls, and attempting to soothe his fretful sleep went to Hatharu. His drawn face revealed the strain that constant care of the family head had put upon the bird. "He doesn't even notice my absences. When I go out to see Zhula," he added in response to Ahame's confused look.
"So you've got a love life now? Well, miracles will happen," remarked Ahame, grinning. "I never knew it was possible for you to set foot outside the main estate!"
Hatharu permitted the snake a small smile. He didn't know most of the Dzuni well, except for his own brother.
"Are you always going to serve Asheno?" Hathori shot Shehure an exasperated look for asking Hatharu such a thorny question. How like the dog to bring up a sensitive issue. Seeing Hatharu's acute discomfort, Hathori moved quickly to steer the conversation back to its original purpose.
"Forget it, Hatharu. We have something else much more important to tell you. It's about how the curse was broken." The dragon took a deep breath. Now the hard part was coming; Hatharu's reaction would give them their first sense of how everyone else would handle learning how the curse had finally met its end.
"A friend of Khazuma, who works with antiquities," continued Hathori, slowly and articulating his words clearly, "has done extensive research into the curse. He found scrolls describing the Dzuni, and one of those contained a…er, recipe for breaking the curse."
"Mm-mm," nodded Hatharu, listening attentively, his head perfectly erect. Shehure observed Hatharu intently, while Ahame glanced back and forth between the two brothers.
"This recipe called for the dragon, wolf, and serpent to plant their seed in someone who possessed the blood of a dark sorceror."
"What?" Hatharu's mouth had dropped open, and he reprocessed the words inside his head. He couldn't have heard that correctly. "Magic?" Personally, he'd never given the old magical beliefs much thought. However, plenty of Hothans took it for granted that certain people possessed magical abilities, and magic was still very much a part of the cultural consciousness. Just the other day Zhula had been telling Hatharu about her dear friend Hanadzima, who could paralyze people with psychic waves. Of course, thought Hatharu wryly, the Dzuni itself was nothing but supernatural, but it had been a painful fact of life for him to deal with.
"W-wait…" stammered Hatharu. "I don't understand the second part. All three of you had to impregnate a sorceror? Is that what it says? How did you know it would work? It sounds…well, frankly, it sounds like gibberish."
"I'll answer the last question first," said Hathori, sighing and resting his head on his folded hands. "It sounded incredible to all three of us when Khazuma first told us. Shehure has tried other methods to break the curse, but it goes without saying that none of them worked."
"I was feeling desperate, you see, my dear Hatharu," explained Shehure. "So I was quite willing to listen to crazy-sounding theories. The family is insane to begin with. One night soon after Lhoru saw Lhadoman's true form, Khazuma came back here. He brought an ancient piece of paper that his friend the antiquities specialist had found."
"That scroll still haunts my dreams," muttered Ahame.
"It was written by the first Dzuni god who suffered under the curse," continued Shehure. "On her deathbed, actually. I've copied down the words." The dog took a folded piece of notebook paper out of his hekasho's sleeve and passed it to Hatharu. Still looking doubtful, Hatharu carefully unfolded it and began to read.
Shehure kept talking. "Khazuma's friend did research on the family history, and discovered that the family used to have strong connections to a religious cult based on animals, which existed long before the curse started. Anyhow, there used to be a person in the family who served as a sort of high priest for the cult. And as you've probably guessed, Hatharu, 'Sakurazuka' means 'dark power' or 'wise power' in archaic Hothan."
"But there's more." The question forming on Hatharu's lips died immediately. "Khazuma's friend's research revealed that this high priest was never related to the family by blood; it was always an outsider from a different family. Probably a Zi Aldan family. So Khazuma's friend suggested we look outside the family."
Hatharu noticed the pained looks on Hathori's and Ahame's faces, while Shehure went on in the tone of someone attempting to deliver bad news delicately. "You remember Karan, don't you?"
"Karan is involved in this?" Hatharu asked, a vague comprehension beginning to dawn on him.
"Yes. Her surname, Yuljat, translates into 'Sakurazuka.' And when we talked to her, she told us her ancestors ran a secret mystical cult that wielded great power. Karan didn't know anything more, but it was the best we ever had to go on."
"And all three of you had to sleep with her?" A perverted image of a three-way formed in Hatharu's mind, and he hurriedly brushed it aside. Now he understood why Hathori had been so troubled the last several months and how depressed he'd been when Karan left for reasons that had been so unclear to the family.
"No, we didn't all sleep with her," responded Hathori brusquely. "I merely artificially inseminated her with samples from all three of us."
"B-but how did you know it would work?" sputtered Hatharu. "It's a huge risk to take with a person's life like that."
The corner of Hathori's mouth curved; he'd reacted much the same way the first time he'd heard it from Shehure and Khazuma. "The truth is we didn't know it would work," admitted Hathori. "I was opposed to it at first. But then we talked to Karan, and she insisted. She said if it would free me from the curse…" His voice choked and Ahame patted Hathori's back. No one said anything for a long time.
"Two weeks ago, when the curse ended, that was when the baby was born?" queried Hatharu.
"Yes," said Shehure. "Karan wouldn't tell us whether it was a girl or boy. She wants to surprise us."
"Where did Karan stay?"
"We sent her to Lhose. All three of us contributed money to support her. We had to keep her as far away from Asheno, you understand, and Lhose was the best place. Lhose has always been a stronghold of the Ghumani family, our traditional enemies. She's still there by the way—we believed it safest to wait until after Asheno had been told. You agree, don't you?"
"Yes," affirmed Hatharu, "if Asheno even recovers. This might even kill him."
Shehure chuckled. "I seriously doubt you would mind that, Hatharu."
Once again, Asheno mulled over the worst day of his life. A sweet summer breeze blew through the open window the former god leaned against. He'd decided to open the window just this once—there'd been so much upheaval in his life recently, and opening one window would not change matters. He rested his arm on the windowsill, and put his head down. The pleasant breeze and the beautiful shine from the moonlight evoked a dull resentment from Asheno. For two weeks now, he'd been unable to sleep. Half a year ago, he had thought he could not possibly hate any female creature more than Lhoru, but Karan and her little bastards dethroned her.
No, that was not right. There was someone he hated above all other people. The one he was convinced had persuaded Karan, Hathori and everybody else to betray their god. The one he, Asheno, had confided in and put his trust in so often during the years.
Shehure.
Asheno growled as he remembered the day two weeks ago when that smug, lying filth of a human being had appeared before him. Then, with a supremely self-confident smile, he'd had the audacity to inform his god that the curse had been broken.
"What are you talking about? Have you been drinking?" Asheno had asked scornfully, but nevertheless uneasy with Shehure's unflinching statement.
The dog called a girl servant over to him, and hugged her in front of Asheno. Two weeks later, Asheno could still feel the acute shock flood his body as the memory returned. Shehure never transformed.
Then he told Asheno that the curse had been broken for almost three months! Three months! His beloved Dzuni had kept it secret from him for three months! Asheno stood up abruptly and slammed the window shut with venom. Huffing, he paced the darkened room.
And now, his Dzuni were making plans, plans that did not include their god. It was like those sappy children's stories Asheno had always despised—a happy ending for everyone! Asheno was sure Hathori would marry Karan, the little slut. She'd had triplets. Asheno once saw the babies, from a distance. He couldn't bear to go near them because they reminded him of their Dzuni fathers too much. The girl resembled Ahame exactly, and the two boys favored Shehure and Hathori. From what Asheno heard, Karan and Hathori would keep their son, Shehure would raise his, and Ahame would take the girl. Earlier, Asheno heard some servants chattering about Ahame's engagement to his employee Mhine. She'd probably seduced him for his money, the little whore.
Meanwhile, he, Asheno, was to be denied the privilege of dying, surrounded by the Dzuni. He would not join his predecessors, who had gloriously suffered to protect their Dzuni from the intrusion of the outside world. Asheno stopped pacing and dropped heavily onto his comfortable old chaise.
"How much better it would be to be dead," he murmured into the unanswering darkness. He'd not had the heart to banish the Dzuni from his sight forever. The thought of never seeing them again was still beyond his capability to handle. Oh, he got angry when he saw one of them walking about the estate, especially if it was Shehure, but they had the sense to avoid him unless he specifically requested their presence. Maybe he really would be better off just committing suicide; that would be better for all concerned. He should've died two months ago, when he was very nearly on the brink of death. But his body had miraculously rallied.
On the other hand, if they could break the curse, perhaps he could bring it back. If his Dzuni had been able to use magic, their god ought to be able to, as well. After all, they had the same cursed blood flowing in their veins. Asheno became more alert as he turned the thought over in his mind. Yes…and perhaps, just perhaps, he would also be able to wreak his godly vengeance on that damned dog. He was Shoma Asheno, the head of one of Lhasa's richest and most powerful families. Yes, it had to be possible. Someday, he could die with his Dzuni by his side, never to escape the curse again.
Almost forty years later, Asheno lay in his hotel bed in Lhose, recuperating well from his feverish bout. He'd argued ferociously with the Dzarans, but finally he'd sensed that persuading them in person would by the only way to get them yield Shuro. That was the only reason he'd traveled to this accursed town, founded by and still loyal to his family's archnemeses, the Ghumanis. The two families' rivalry no longer resulted in open bloodshed as it had in the old days two centuries ago, but the tensions had merely found subtler outlets in politics and economics.
Lhose brought back all the memories of Karan and the curse's breaking, which was the second reason he despised this little oasis in the midst of the godforsaken Ashomi Waste. It was perhaps fitting, mused Asheno, that scum like the Ghumanis should have such a miserable, barbarian little town associated with them, and that the Shomas had Lhasa and Hareth, the respective economic and cultural centers of Hoth, under their control.
Asheno smiled, his outlook brightening slightly. No doubt that since he was here in person now, he would be able to retrieve another of his resurrected Dzuni.