Small braziers were carried forward and placed in the centre of the pavilion. The Chancellor inspected each one, commenting on the glow of the embers and the direction of the breeze. An air of excitement hung over the assembled courtiers. Ladies and gentlemen clasped the jars and boxes containing their incense blends, darting covert glances at their neighbours. Some women began to whisper of their secret recipes, boasting of the pedigree of their scent.
Hiromasa slipped a hand inside his cloak and felt the spirit-summoning incense in its twist of paper. The knowledge that he had it on his person made him uncomfortable. He glanced around, hoping to see Seimei standing somewhere beyond the circle of light given off by the torches ringing the pavilion. Nothing stirred in the darkness. He fretted.
Seimei wouldn't really abandon the most senior figures of the court when a demon was about to strike. Hiromasa knew that. He also knew he'd wounded Seimei with his reaction to the Chancellor's barbed comments. But had he offended him so much that Seimei had left him to handle Nose on his own? Was that why he'd been given the spirit-summoning incense?
Hiromasa's thoughts chased each other into confusion. He stared at the burning embers of the brazier closest to him and let out a small sigh.
"Don't be sad, my lord. This evening will be delightful." Winter Moon wriggled past a number of women and knelt beside him, close enough that her sleeve covered his right knee. She gave him a flirtatious look over the top of her fan, her gaze clear and untroubled. "I intend to enjoy myself. Especially now."
She managed to put a wealth of meaning into the last two words. Hiromasa couldn't decide what she meant. He gave her an uncertain smile, all too conscious of her delight at Seimei's departure. He supposed he should say something clever and witty, but all he could manage was: "I hear Lord Kotoku has been keeping you company while I was away."
Winter Moon giggled. "Oh, yes! But he is such a bore. He is not one half as charming as you, my lord. Everyone says so."
Hiromasa widened his smile until his face ached. Trapped and bewildered, he hoped Nose would make her appearance soon. It was the only way he'd be able to extricate himself from his mistress without making an embarrassing scene.
The Chancellor paused in front of them and announced the braziers were at the optimum temperature for burning incense. Winter Moon squealed and turned towards the Empress, shuffling to the very edge of the mat in an attempt to draw Her Majesty's attention. Hiromasa raised his sleeve to hide a genuine smile, and then to muffle his chuckles when the Empress chose another lady-in-waiting to be the first to exhibit her incense.
Winter Moon sat back. A brief frown marred her features, but then her expression cleared and she began to chatter in a whisper, including Hiromasa and her neighbours in the monologue. In short order, Hiromasa learned the lady's name, her favourite colour combinations for this season, the identities of her husband and two of her lovers, and her secret incense recipe.
"She always makes a variant of the Royal Steward," Winter Moon said. "I told her to try something new this time, but she wouldn't listen…"
Hiromasa tuned out her voice and watched the woman place the dark-coloured ball of incense into a pan set on the brazier. He studied her hands and her quick, nervous gestures, wondering if she was Nose in disguise. When a thin tendril of blue-tinged smoke unravelled from the pan, he leaned forward with everyone else to inhale the scent.
Moments later he jerked back with a snort of surprise. The familiar fragrance of lavender and late autumn roses trailed through the air, mixed with aloe and sandalwood. Hiromasa flapped open his fan and waved it close to his nose, pushing back the smell.
Beside him, Winter Moon had also recognised the primary ingredients in the blend. Her look of surprise swiftly turned to one of annoyance. Turning to him, she whispered, "You didn't share my secret recipe with anyone, did you? Only, lavender and roses is my own personal signature scent."
The Empress asked for his opinion on the blend, which saved him from making a reply to Winter Moon. Hiromasa stumbled through a few words of general praise and relaxed in relief when another gentleman spoke out and expanded on his theme. The discussion moved on. He fidgeted, casting a longing glance at the sake jug placed just out of reach. If the whole night was going to continue in this fashion, the least he could do was get drunk.
At last it seemed that all opinions had been gathered on the first scent. A servant removed the pan containing the incense and carried it away from the pavilion, so the fragrance wouldn't interfere with the next blend of incense.
"Winter Moon," called the Empress. "You have talked much of your unique scent. Please share it with us now."
With a pleased smile, Winter Moon rose to her feet. "I prepared two fragrances, Your Majesties. One – my signature scent that everyone likes so much – I buried in the garden here. Then I decided to try something new and daring. This second scent is very special. So special that after I mixed it, I buried it in a very safe place outside of the city, where no one could tamper with it." She gestured, her glossed silk sleeves flouncing dramatically. "Here is my incense!"
Everyone turned to look at the path. Even the Emperor twitched his curtain so he could peer out. Hiromasa admired Winter Moon's sense of timing as two figures emerged from the inky shadows. A breeze rattled through the bare branches of the trees, dispersing the last lingering traces of the first perfume. The torches guttered, the flames flickering low before leaping up as if in acknowledgement of the woman making her slow, methodical way towards the pavilion.
It was Nose. Dressed in unfigured blue-grey silk, her hair washed and combed to fall down her back, she looked like any low-ranking court lady. She held a ceramic jar tight to her breast, and her free hand rested on the shoulder of a pretty pageboy who guided her steps.
Hiromasa drew in a breath. His heart beat faster and he felt anxiety twitch through his body. He straightened, sitting forward on his knees. He wasn't the only man present to move, although he suspected that Nose's unusual beauty, her milk-white eyes and apparent vulnerability were the things his fellow courtiers noticed.
But while the gentlemen exclaimed over her looks, the ladies subsided into their padded Chinese jackets, murmuring their disquiet. They avoided looking in Nose's direction. Hiromasa realised that what Nose had told him was true – she'd made perfumes and incense blends for all of these women, and they'd passed them off as their own work.
Remembering his first meeting with Nose, he glanced towards the Chancellor. Nose had said that His Excellency was a regular customer, choosing subtle variations on the same fragrance in order to feel safe and secure. Now the Chancellor looked as uncomfortable as the women, wariness and disgust on his features. He strode forward, raising a hand to halt the pageboy and Nose before they could enter the pavilion.
"Stop! This woman shouldn't be here. She is a commoner. She shouldn't be in the city after dusk. She may direct evil influences at His Majesty."
Nose paused her steps. Her grip tightened on the pageboy's shoulder in a wordless command, and he moved away to leave her standing alone and silent.
Hiromasa shifted into a crouch, wishing he still had his sword. He'd surrendered it to a guardsman before he'd entered the gardens. Not that swords had that much of an effect on demons, but at least he'd feel less helpless if he had it by his side.
The breeze turned. The torches dipped again, the flames bowing towards the occupants of the pavilion. Nose's scent brushed through the air, almost tangible; a web of fragrance spinning out to enclose them.
Hiromasa lifted his head and inhaled. A stronger gust of wind scattered Nose's scent, bringing it to him, and suddenly he was overwhelmed. He sneezed, turning away to catch his breath, but the fragrance seemed lodged inside him, taunting him to recognise it.
At the entrance to the pavilion, the Chancellor faltered in his tirade. A puzzled expression crossed his face, and he sniffed. When Nose stepped forward, he frowned at her. Another breeze shivered the air, releasing another wave of scent. The next time Nose advanced, the Chancellor beamed at her and stood aside.
"My dear girl, you are welcome to join our little gathering!" He even bowed to her as she approached, his gaze no longer angry and suspicious but fond and affectionate.
Hiromasa hissed in dismay. He shook his head, trying to concentrate on events unfolding before him, but the scents tumbled around him, daring him to name them all as he'd done in Nose's hut. As soon as he thought he'd recognised one, another would tug at his senses. He realised Nose must have striped herself with a myriad of different fragrances, each one the personal scent of every man and woman attending the party.
The Chancellor had already succumbed to the spell of his own scent. He wore a glazed expression, as if he knew there was something wrong but he couldn't quite identify the problem. As Nose came closer, Hiromasa watched as the gentlemen became infatuated and the ladies, so mistrustful before, suddenly melted into compliance. Cries of welcome vied with protestations of friendship and bold flirtations. A couple of women hurried forward, calling that they would help Nose feel her way into the pavilion. A gentleman pushed in between them, anxious to take on the task for himself.
Hiromasa stood and made his way between the braziers until he faced the cluster of courtiers surrounding Nose. He saw her head lift and her fine nostrils flare as she registered his presence. She hesitated, obviously puzzled as to his identity. He could almost see her working through her arsenal of scents as she tried to place him.
She put out a hand and grasped at the sleeve of the lady closest to her. "That man," she said, her speech coarse in comparison to the refined accents of court. "That man in front of us… who is he?"
The lady cast a glance at him and replied, "It's Lord Hiromasa."
Nose tilted her head. Her eyes widened. "Minamoto no Hiromasa?"
"Yes." Hiromasa took a step forward. "It's me."
Her sightless eyes darted then fixed on him with an unerring gaze. Her skin seemed to glow, luminous and dark. A sigh fell from her lips. "You changed your scent."
"I did." Hiromasa met her gaze. Her milk-white eyes seemed to see straight through him. "I know what you are, Nose."
A moment of silence hung between them. The Chancellor laughed. "Come now, Lord Hiromasa, what are you saying? This young lady is… She is…That is to say…"
"Your Excellency, this woman is a demon." Hiromasa raised his voice so his words would carry to all corners of the pavilion. He hoped someone would see to the safety of the imperial couple. He didn't dare look away from Nose.
"A demon?" Winter Moon exclaimed. "My lord, you are making a joke! A very bad one, of course, but a joke nonetheless. You're trying to distract attention away from my incense. My very special and unique incense that Nose has brought here for me. Just wait until you smell it, my lord. You will be amazed. You will be so astounded you'll forget all about…other people."
Hiromasa turned to stare at her. "What if I don't want to forget?"
"You will." Winter Moon's eyes shone with determination. "You'll forget, and want only me. Not him."
Speechless, Hiromasa shook his head. He'd never imagined Winter Moon as an angry or desperate woman. He'd thought she was playful, harmless, a pleasing diversion for the season. Now he realised he hadn't known her at all. He'd seen only what he'd wanted to see. She had talked, revealing herself, and he'd pretended to listen. He had failed Winter Moon the way he'd failed Seimei. Self-disgust made him bow his head.
Nose laughed and came closer. Her footsteps were swift and certain; it seemed her blindness was no longer an impediment. She stopped beside the Chancellor and touched his arm. The gesture seemed innocent and flirtatious, accompanied by a coy glance. "Scent entices and suggests. It can fool men of ideals and women who dream. It can promise delight and pleasure to those who want to believe in its power."
She looked at Hiromasa. "But a man who can smell even the faintest whiff of rot beneath the sweetness… he can never be fooled, no matter how powerful the scent."
Hiromasa caught it then – her true scent, buried beneath the perfumes of the court. She smelled of the cesspit, of funeral pyres and burnt flesh, of decaying fruit. He gagged, his skin crawling as he turned his head, desperate to breathe clearer air.
"Abe no Seimei told you I was a demon." Nose leaned against the Chancellor, who smiled down at her with a fatuous look. "I cannot hide from you, Lord Hiromasa. Not now you know my true scent."
She threw down the jar of incense. As it shattered, her human shell dissolved, exploding outwards in a drift of glittering powder. Hiromasa ducked and covered his face with his arms. A wealth of scent showered over him, but still he could smell the stink of demon. He lowered his hand and saw Nose's true form, a dark-skinned creature with a long snout and horns, tiny eyes and wild hair, and a mouth full of shining, upwards-curving teeth.
He stumbled backwards at the shock of her appearance before he could stop himself. He'd seen demons before – but he'd never been without Seimei when he'd seen them. Swallowing his fear, he stood straight and faced Nose through the residue of glowing sparkles and the fading waves of scent.
The Chancellor stood as if frozen, covered in the glinting powder. It coated the courtiers around Nose, tiny reflective flakes of demon flesh. Hiromasa brushed off the powder that clung to his robes, then felt a sharp stinging sensation. He glanced at his hand, puzzled. It felt as if a mosquito had bitten him. A lone fleck of the glittering powder lay close to his knuckles. When he flicked it off, a bead of blood welled and smeared across his skin.
Nose chuckled.
Hiromasa looked at the Chancellor. The powder-flecks seemed to be shining now, afire with an inner light that had nothing to do with the reflection of the torches. The patches of His Excellency's skin between each fleck grew paler and dimmer with each passing moment. It was as if the gleaming specks were feeding on him, draining the Chancellor of his energy.
A gasp of horror escaped him. Hiromasa tore his gaze from the Chancellor and saw the same thing happening to the other courtiers. They sagged and wilted, slumping to the floor of the pavilion. As soon as they dropped, the shimmering powder-flecks moved on to the next courtier, a deadly swarm that twisted like smoke and smelled of the sweetest, most rare scents.
"Scent-demons!" Hiromasa flapped his sleeves at a swarm, trying to beat them away from their next victim.
"Incense-eating demons," Nose said with a smile. She stepped forward, pulling Winter Moon with her. Although his mistress wore the same blank expression as everyone else, she wasn't covered in the glittering powder-flecks. Her skin was pale, but not grey and drained. She stared at him, her gaze vacant.
Hiromasa started towards her. A cluster of the tiny demons flew at him, but aside from a couple of swift, painful bites, they slid from him and turned upon other targets.
"You don't taste good to them. They don't recognise your scent." Nose lifted her snout and sniffed at him.
"Incense-eating demons only eat incense!"
"Unless instructed to do otherwise." Nose snorted and clacked her teeth together. "They are greedy for any kind of scent, so greedy that if encouraged to seek out a specific fragrance, they will hunt for it and devour it."
Hiromasa caught his breath, realising what she'd done. "Those vials in your hut… the body scents you'd mixed – they weren't for possessing people or for making them trust you. They were lures for the incense-eating demons."
Nose snuffled with laughter. "Those scents serve both purposes. You saw how people responded to me. They welcomed me here and let me get close enough to them so I could shake off the dust of my outward appearance. You recognised the many scents I wore. Now each scent is being tracked by one of my demons."
"You're draining ki," Hiromasa said, remembering what Seimei had told him. "You've stolen their scent and now you're stealing their life-force."
Nose dragged Winter Moon in front of her, locking one arm around her neck. Winter Moon lay against her like a doll, passive and still. "It is necessary."
"No! Leave her alone!" Without thinking, Hiromasa sprang forward.
Nose hauled Winter Moon to one side. Hiromasa seized his mistress by the arms and pulled. Winter Moon remained inert, apparently oblivious to what was happening. Nose snarled, her grip loosening as Hiromasa caught Winter Moon around the waist. He held onto her one-handed and tried to heave Nose's arm from her neck.
The demon let go. Hiromasa staggered backwards, Winter Moon's slight weight knocking him off-balance as she slumped into his arms. As gently as he could, he lowered her to the floor.
Nose hissed and feinted forward, her hands outstretched. Hiromasa launched himself at her again. He thudded against her body and she gasped. Her foul odour seemed to pour from her mouth, covering him. Hiromasa coughed, keeping his head down to avoid breathing in too much of her stench. They tussled together, hands grasping on silk and tearing at brocade.
Hiromasa hooked a foot behind Nose's legs and pushed her back. She toppled with a shriek and clutched at him, bringing him down on top of her. They tumbled out of the pavilion onto the ground, still wrestling.
He felt Nose's snout writhe against his neck. With a shout of disgust he jerked away, but kept his weight over her, pinning her to the damp grass. They'd fallen beyond the circle of torchlight, his shadow casting her into darkness. They struggled together, and then Nose lay still beneath him and laughed. Her snout moved leisurely, sniffing his face. He shuddered when she licked his skin.
"How delightful, how clever!" She sounded drunk, as if intoxicated by his new scent. "You smell of pine forests and hoarfrost and wet laurel. He told you how to do it, and you changed your scent for him – for a fox's child, for a man without a heart. You trust him so deeply. Oh, how I wish I'd chosen you!"
Hiromasa recoiled. "What?"
"She needs a vessel for her spell." Seimei stepped out of the shadows of an azalea shrub, the firelight gilding his white formal cloak. Behind him, a glowing line of brilliant light ran from behind the azalea, splitting and criss-crossing the area around the pavilion. Hiromasa followed the diverging lines until he recognised the outline they formed – a pentacle, the shape Seimei favoured for creating a holy barrier.
"You can stop rolling on the ground, Hiromasa. Nose won't be going anywhere."
"Seimei!" Hiromasa couldn't keep the joy from his voice. He crawled aside and stood, brushing at his brocades. If only he could rid himself of Nose's stench so easily. "Seimei, I'm sorry if I offended you earlier…"
"Hiromasa, you have such an alarming propensity for talking nonsense at inopportune times I may be forced to use a spell to silence you." Seimei raised two fingers and pointed.
Hiromasa ducked. "I won't say another word."
Seimei arched his eyebrows in obvious disbelief. He came closer, his pace slow and measured. "I was wrong about Nose's intentions. I thought the theft of personal scents and ki was for the purpose of making spirit-summoning incense – and in that, I presume I am correct, yes?" He cocked his head at Nose, awaiting a response.
Nose rolled into a crouch and eyed him with caution and dislike.
"I'll take that as a yes." Seimei continued to address her. "I thought you wanted the spirit-summoning incense to increase your power. If you called on the spirits of the dead, you could feed on their emotions, take them into yourself to become a creature of immeasurable strength and ability – especially if you'd used me as the focus for the spirit-summoning incense. But I never featured in your original plan, did I? I was merely an unexpected bonus."
Nose sneered. "Foxes always believe the worst of others. They look for deviousness where it doesn't exist."
"In this case, you're right." Seimei put a finger to his lips, his expression thoughtful. "What I couldn't work out was why you wanted so much power…"
"She wanted to destroy the city," Hiromasa said, forgetting that he wasn't going to say another word. "That's what demons do. They destroy things."
"Not all demons." Seimei stopped a short distance from where Nose crouched on the ground. "Some demons want to create."
"Create?" Uncertain, Hiromasa glanced at Nose, then at Seimei.
"You wanted that power not for yourself, but for someone else." Seimei's expression softened as he looked at her. "Like Emperor Wu, you wanted to bring someone back from the dead. Someone you loved – a mortal man."
Nose closed her eyes. "Yes."
"But…" Hiromasa frowned, recalling the story of Emperor Wu and his beloved concubine. "Lady Li was only a phantom. The Emperor tried and tried, but she wouldn't come back to him."
"Emperor Wu was only a man. Nose is a scent-demon. Different rules apply." Seimei gave him a sorrowful look. "Really, Hiromasa, have you learned nothing?"
"Sometimes I think I've learned too much. There isn't room in my head for everything you say. But tell me what you meant by Nose needing a human vessel."
Seimei laughed and moved closer. "I don't mean to confuse you, Hiromasa. But in answer to your question – perhaps we should ask Nose to tell us…"
"Why should I answer a fox-child? Nasty little thing!" Nose lifted her snout and sniffed at him, a look of disgust on her face. "You…" She stopped, sniffed again, and then hissed. "You are not Abe no Seimei!"
Seimei smiled.
"You're not real." Nose rose to her feet, her tiny eyes glinting with malice. "You're an illusion, a fox's trickery. You smell of pure Lotus Leaf scent and nothing else. Not real!"
"Shikigami?" Hiromasa took a tentative sniff and blinked. It was true: Seimei had only one scent, a warm, gentle variation of one of the six classical fragrances.
"If you won't tell us, I suppose I must do it." A second Seimei appeared, moving out of the darkness on one side of the pavilion. He smiled at the first Seimei, who stepped back and stood silent.
Hiromasa looked between the two Seimeis. He wished his friend wouldn't duplicate himself like this. It often became very confusing.
Nose twisted round to face the second Seimei, her snout raised, nostrils flaring. The breeze blew from behind her. Hiromasa gave a surreptitious sniff but couldn't smell anything: the second Seimei stood downwind, his expression revealing nothing.
"Nose intends to summon the spirit of her dead lover," the second Seimei said, "and she intends to house his spirit in a vessel – a human, regardless of gender, whose body scent she knows intimately."
He gestured at the slumped occupants of the pavilion. "She could have chosen any of these courtiers, but she decided on one particular person… Lady Winter Moon."
Hiromasa stared. "Why?"
"Why not? She deserved it." Nose shook herself like a dog and took a step towards the pavilion. "You heard her the day she came to my hut. Always so high and mighty, never grateful for what I did for her! She was the client I've had the longest. It was my perfumes that got her into the service of the Empress. Without my scents, she wouldn't have attracted you, my lord – or any of the other men she flirted with."
"You mean she seduced me with her scent?" Hiromasa gave a disbelieving laugh. "But that day at your hut, she asked you for a perfume to make me fall in love with her. So she'd used one before?"
"She did."
"But…" Hiromasa frowned. "I chose her because of her name, not her scent!"
Nose shrugged. "Her scent perfumed the letters she wrote to you. Like many men, you fell in love with an ideal. I told you: scent seduces and suggests – but the moment you smell the underlying, true scent of a person, you will never be free of it, and nothing can disguise it."
"Is that why I fell out of love with her?"
She snorted. "Your nature is fickle. That's why you no longer love her." Nose curled her snout as if sneering. "Besides, Winter Moon is not a lovable person. Her faults are many, her temper unpleasant. So I chose her as the vessel for my lover's spirit, knowing she would cease to exist as soon as his spirit entered her body. A fitting end for such a selfish woman."
Hiromasa swallowed. "She would… die?"
Nose laughed in response.
"She would be obliterated." The second Seimei moved nearer. "Her body would be remade and her spirit scattered. The only part of her left behind would be one of the things that makes her human – her scent."
Hiromasa gazed at the inert form of Winter Moon. She lay where he'd placed her, unmoving and unseeing. It was as if she was already dead. The idea filled him with horror. For all her faults and jealousy, he'd enjoyed her company throughout the summer and autumn. He couldn't let her die.
Seimei came to stand beside him, his gaze fixed on Winter Moon. "Ghosts don't have a scent of their own. They may sometimes imitate one particular odour associated with their death – blood, for instance, if they were stabbed to death – or they may call up a specific perfume associated with them in life. But these scents are illusions, faint bursts of energy that create suggestions in the minds of the living."
He turned to Hiromasa. "For Nose's lover to be restored to life successfully, he would need a human scent – Lady Winter Moon's scent."
"So all this," Hiromasa waved, encompassing the drained courtiers and the glittering powder-flecks that still fed on them, "this is how much power it takes to bring back one man from the dead?"
Seimei gave him a brief, unreadable look. "Yes."
"The dead are dead. Leave them alone." Hiromasa shook his head and then paused. Something wasn't right. He looked at Seimei, narrowing his gaze. "Seimei…"
Nose growled. "He isn't real, either. It's another fox trick."
When Hiromasa leaned close and sniffed him, Seimei didn't move. "Plum Blossom scent," Hiromasa murmured. "Another shikigami. How many have you made?"
"As many as I thought necessary." A third Seimei appeared, this time from the direction of the stream that ran through the garden.
"One is sufficient," Nose snapped. Her snout writhed in his direction. "You are not real. You smell of Blackness incense. And a very poor version of Blackness, at that."
"Blame the maker of the scent, not me." A fourth Seimei walked out of the pavilion. "Personally I find this particular variation rather pleasing."
Hiromasa looked around, his mouth dropping open as he saw dozens of Seimeis circled around them, advancing upon Nose. Scent surrounded him, made him cough. He flapped a hand, wishing for clean air. "Where did all this scent come from?"
The second Seimei smiled. "I simply made use of what was available to me."
"The balls of incense." Hiromasa gave a nervous laugh. "You made shikigami of yourself out of incense!"
"You think you're so clever, fox-child," Nose snorted, her snout wrinkled as she turned from one side to the other. "But your illusions will fail. You can't hide yourself from me. I will sniff out the real Abe no Seimei – and when I do…"
She darted at the first Seimei with a roar. As she leapt at him, Seimei vanished, dissolving into a blue smoke smelling strongly of Lotus Leaf incense. Nose snarled, shaking her head as the blue smoke coiled about her. She jumped free and rushed at another of the Seimei-shikigami. He also became smoke, this one smelling of tulip and sweet pine.
Hiromasa watched as Nose darted from one Seimei-shikigami to the next. Each time, he vanished before she could touch him; each time, a wave of scented smoke enveloped her. Nose paused, panting for breath, her snout raised like a weapon. Blue smoke clung to her hair and robe, trailing after her and wreathing her in layers of scent.
"You may want to get out of the way," the second Seimei said, giving Hiromasa a benign glance. "She'll be coming for me next."
At the sound of his voice, Nose shrieked. She tore through the incense-fog and lunged at the second Seimei, who dissolved into heavily scented Plum Blossom smoke. Hiromasa drew away from the blue cloud, blinded for a moment. He tripped over something and tumbled onto the floor of the pavilion. Pressing his face to the wooden floorboards, he found himself able to breathe clearly again. He smelled the familiar, comforting scent of damp earth and wood, and gave a sigh of relief.
He pulled himself up onto his elbows and realised he'd fallen over Winter Moon. He got to his knees and leaned over her, brushing the hair from her face and pressing his fingers to the side of her neck, feeling for a pulse. He felt it, slow but steady. Hope flared through him. He gathered her into his arms and shook her. "Winter Moon, wake up!"
Hiromasa focused on her pale face and blank, staring eyes. He was aware of the miniature explosions around him as the shikigami scattered into smoke. The drifting stink of dozens of scents settled in a pall over the pavilion. He rocked Winter Moon, willing her to come out of whatever frozen sleep Nose had inflicted on her.
Another wave of scent washed over him. He turned his head, the incense stinging his eyes and making his nose run. He held his mistress with one arm as he sneezed into his free hand. He wiped his palm on his brocades, screwing up his face in disgust. The different scents around him seemed to blur into one, lodging in his nose to block it as if he had a bad cold. Maybe that would be a relief. If he had a blocked nose, he wouldn't be able to smell anything…
Realisation came to him in a rush. Suddenly he knew what Seimei was doing. He lay Winter Moon down again and jumped to his feet, determined to help. Seimei had made shikigami out of all the intact incense balls brought to the party by the courtiers, but had he thought to use the one demonstrated first in the contest?
Hiromasa raced to where the servant had placed the pan beside the stream. He scrabbled in it, feeling the warmth of the incense against his fingertips. Scooping up the scented ashes, he ran back to the pavilion.
Only one Seimei remained, his stance wary as he circled Nose. Hiromasa had no idea if this was the real Seimei or the last of the shikigami. He hurried forward, his cupped hands in front of him. "Seimei!"
Nose swung around to face him. She made a terrifying sight, her hair and horns wreathed in blue smoke, her dark skin now paled to grey with exhaustion and anger. Strings of saliva hung from her sharp teeth; mucus ran from her snout. Her tiny eyes were dilated, and her breath rasped in her throat.
Seimei took a step backwards. "Now, Hiromasa!"
With a shout, Hiromasa flung the crumbled incense and scented ash into her face. A breeze blew up behind him, and the grey residue turned into shimmering blue smoke. Nose shrieked, clawing at the air as if it were a living thing she could fight. The smoke swirled around her, covering her twisting body. She struggled against it then fell to the ground in a heap.
Hiromasa started forward, anxious to see what had become of her.
"Wait," instructed Seimei. He moved around Nose to stand beside Hiromasa, his gaze fixed on the fallen demon the whole time.
"Seimei?" Hiromasa touched his sleeve.
"It's me." Seimei gave him a quick smile. "Thank you."
From the ground, Nose gave a piteous cry. She uncurled from her hunched position and looked at them, her eyes wide with panic. Her snout hung limp, its tip wet with slime and blood. "I can't smell. I can't smell anything!"
Seimei lifted his chin, the only outward sign of his emotion. "You overdosed on your own scents, Nose. You've destroyed your own sense of smell."
She gasped, shudders racking her body. Nose crawled towards him across the grass and seized the trailing hem of his formal cloak. "Fox-child, you are powerful. Give me back my nose. Let me have my sense of smell."
"I can't. I don't have that power." Seimei tugged his cloak free of her grasp and turned away.
Nose wailed, clutching her head in her hands.
Hiromasa looked at her. Despite himself, he felt moved by sympathy. He glanced at Seimei. "There's nothing you can do?"
"Perhaps if she released the ki that doesn't belong to her, and took her little incense-eating demons back into herself, the energy may help restore the balance of her senses," Seimei said. "Then again, it may not. Who can tell?"
Nose looked at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She staggered to her feet and spread her arms, crooning a discordant melody. In an instant, the glittering powder-flecks rose from their feeding-ground and converged on her. They buzzed like a swarm of bees, then settled upon her body, crawling over her until she gleamed.
As the light grew intense and painful, Hiromasa shielded his eyes from the glare. When he looked again, Nose had returned to her human shape. She stood meek and quiet, her face white except for the bright trail of blood leaking from her nose. She touched it, her fingertips coming away stained red.
"I still can't smell anything." Her voice sounded small. She lifted her blind gaze to them. "I can't even smell my own blood."
Her shoulders slumped and she hid her face in her sleeves. The edges of her shape blurred, becoming indistinct. Hiromasa rubbed his eyes and stared as she faded away in front of him, leaving behind only the faintest trace of fragrance.
Seimei sighed and waved a hand, dissipating the scent. "Lavender and late autumn roses," he remarked. "How very appropriate."
Hiromasa gazed at the place where Nose had been. "Where did she go?"
Seimei shrugged as if unconcerned. "To the same place humans go when they lose the one thing that kept them alive."
Hiromasa didn't know how to respond to that, so remained silent.
"Well." Seimei glanced around the pavilion at the slumped nobles. "At least there's less mess this time. I hate clearing up."
Hiromasa started to laugh.
Seimei smiled at him. "And we didn't need to use my spirit-summoning incense, either. I admit I was concerned about that." He arched his back and stretched with a little purr. "You keep it, Hiromasa."
"Me?" Hiromasa put a hand to the front of his cloak and felt the shape of the spirit-summoning incense concealed inside. "I don't want it. Why would I need it? I don't wish to call upon the dead!"
"It works on the living, too."
"It does?"
Seimei laughed and turned away. Bemused, Hiromasa watched him pick his way across a group of unconscious courtiers, murmuring chants in a low voice and sweeping his hands back and forth as he worked through the pavilion.
At his feet, Winter Moon stirred. Hiromasa dropped to his knees beside her. He clasped her icy hands and called her name. She whimpered, blinking as if to clear her vision, and then her gaze settled on him.
"Lord Hiromasa!" Her lips, still pale, formed a smile. "Did I win the contest?"
"Ah," he said, thinking quickly. "The contest was postponed. His Majesty caught a chill. And so did His Excellency. And everyone else. So it was postponed, because you can't judge an incense contest when you have a cold, because you can't smell anything."
"Oh." Winter Moon nodded, accepting his story. She stifled a yawn and peered up at him with sleepy eyes. "I'm very tired, my lord. My body aches all over and my neck feels stiff. Perhaps I have a cold, too."
"You should rest now." Hiromasa tried to sound solicitous. He stroked her hair until her face relaxed into sleep; then he sat back and heaved a sigh.
When he looked up, Seimei had gone.
