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EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 15: Fugitives

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Octavia opened her eyes to darkness. The only source of light was a small lantern by her feet. Hauling herself into a sitting position, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom of her new surroundings. She was in an underground hallway with an arched ceiling and grooves in the walls. The air tasted stale, and the ambience was all wrong, like she wasn't supposed to be there.

"You're awake."

She turned and saw Cyril kneeling beside her. His pupils glinted ominously, blinding in the low light of the underground.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"The Tombs of Aki," he answered. "They're a network of tunnels beneath the stronghold. Many innocent youkai lost their lives here. The lower levels were sealed after the Fourteen Days of Fire out of respect for the dead. Some protested, but Touga-sama thought it would be for the best."

Her head swam. "The fourteen days of what?"

Cyril flinched, seemingly out of shame. "It's forbidden to talk about. It was a great tragedy. Fires ravaged the province for fourteen days and fourteen nights. The stronghold almost succumbed to ruin, therefore, its inhabitants were evacuated to these tunnels, where they took shelter from the flames. Unfortunately, the majority of them died from sickness and starvation."

"What caused the fires?"

He didn't respond.

Perturbed about the fact that she was in a mass graveyard, Octavia pushed up from the ground and stood, leaning on the warlock for support. "Where's Rin?" she asked, surveying the endless dark corridor. "And Jaken? And Ah-Un? Are they hurt? How long was I out?"

"Calm yourself. It's only been a couple of hours. Rin-chama is resting. She was sick with worry over the ordeal, but she wasn't harmed. No doubt thanks to you. Jaken-dono and the dragon are with her."

Octavia heaved a sigh of relief. "What about Kannika? Did she get away safely?"

"Yes. It was her that informed Sesshoumaru-sama of what was taking place. She was surprisingly concerned. How did you manage to win her over?"

"That's not important now. You should've seen the thing that attacked us, Cyril. It didn't have a face, and it was all black, like a shadow without a body. And the noise it made . . . I thought I was gonna die."

"Evidently, it had other intentions."

"Such as?"

He presented his palm to her. "Make an endeavour to drain my youki."

She pushed his hand away. "I'm not doing that again. Your burn from last time hasn't even started fading yet—"

"Trust me, Octavia-san."

The earnest look on his face crushed her resolve. Biting her lip, she slid her hand into his and concentrated on finding his youki. It was more difficult than usual. She could sense the youki swirling under his skin, but for some inexplicable reason, she couldn't grab onto it. Frowning, she tightened her grip on his hand and tried again, but it was no use. It was out of her reach.

"I can't," she said, releasing his clawed fingers. "I don't understand. What's changed?"

Cyril stared down his snout at her. "Something is trapping your magic. It can't seem to leave your body. I don't know of any spells that could have caused this, which means I don't know how to cure you. Or Sesshoumaru-sama, for that matter."

"Has something happened to him, too?"

Footsteps echoed through the passage. Octavia whirled around to face whatever was approaching, only to relax once she realised who it was. "That was one hell of a drop," she said, recalling how he'd fallen out of the sky. "I'm surprised you didn't break something—

She stopped mid-sentence when he stepped into the light, revealing long raven locks in the place of silver ones. Octavia's eyes widened as she took in Sesshoumaru's altered appearance. His eyes were the same, but everything else had been modified. Some features more than others. The moon on his brow was gone, and the stripes on his cheeks were now a pale cantaloupe orange, making them hard to distinguish from the rest of his skin. His nails were also noticeably shorter – not blunt, but certainly not as sharp as they'd been before – and his dark hair reminded her of the murky expanse of space, whereas before, it could have passed for starlight.

"Jesus. What happened to you?"

He ignored her and focused his attention on Cyril. "The way out is clear."

The warlock stared at him questioningly. "Your pelt," he murmured. "Where is it?"

"I am no longer worthy of it," replied Sesshoumaru.

"That's not true, my lord."

Octavia folded her arms. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

"Sesshoumaru-sama's youki has been stolen," answered Cyril. "He cannot access his true form without it, nor can he call upon any of his powers."

"So, he's like a human?"

Sesshoumaru growled at her. She scrunched up her nose and frowned. Before she could call him out for being rude, something small and sharp pricked her neck. Her hand moved by itself and slapped the creature suckling her pulse point, drawing a tiny shriek from its throat.

"Owww," it moaned. "That really hurt."

"Is that you, Myoga-kun?" asked Cyril.

Octavia removed her hand and watched the creature land in her open palm. She'd never seen anything like it. For all intents and purposes, she had in her possession an old man the size of a pea. He had an extra pair of arms and his mouth was shaped like a straw, but when placed next to Sesshoumaru and Cyril, he could almost be mistaken for a mortal.

Pulling himself together, Myoga crossed his legs and bowed his head respectfully. "It certainly is," he said. "Hello again, my friend. It's great to see you. And you, Sesshoumaru-sama. I was on my way to see you when the monster appeared. What a wretched thing it was. I haven't felt evil like that since Naraku. However, if it's any consolation, the darker shade suits you."

The Daiyoukai narrowed his eyes, unimpressed by the compliment. "Where have you been these past few years?" he asked. "I thought you only disappeared when you sensed danger."

Myoga swallowed thickly. "Running errands for Totosai?" he squeaked unconvincingly.

Sesshoumaru clicked his tongue. "More like slacking off at an inn with those degenerates you call friends."

"Inns are excellent places to gather intel."

Octavia snorted.

"Forgive me," Myoga said, addressing her this time. "When I smell blood, I can be a little overzealous. Especially if it's as tasty as yours. I should have asked for permission first."

"You should have," she agreed. "There's no way I would've said yes, though."

"I doubt anyone would," added Cyril.

The little youkai stood and bowed to her. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Myoga. I serve Sesshoumaru-sama, as I served his father before him. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled. "Hi, Myoga. I'm Octavia."

"You must be Cyril's new apprentice, then. You're younger than I expected. And prettier, if you don't mind me saying. A lovely maiden such as yourself shouldn't have to listen to this dinosaur barking orders all day. I always knew he had a cruel streak."

Octavia's ego inflated, whereas Cyril rebuked fiercely, "I do not!"

"Enough of this nonsense," snapped Sesshoumaru. "What am I to do?"

"You can't be seen," said Cyril. "You'd be killed instantly."

Octavia gasped. "Why?"

"A demon with no youki is not a demon," Sesshoumaru replied.

"Says who?"

"No one. It is known."

"But you're still you!"

"I am unimportant. My title is what matters. It is secured by my power. Without power, I have no title, and without a title, I have no power. That is the way of the world, human."

"That's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard."

He seemed taken aback by her passionate response. Cyril and Myoga shared a cautious look. Octavia held Sesshoumaru's stare and shook her head slowly, baffled by his thought process.

"You're their ruler," she said. "You keep them safe. You're the reason they have a roof over their heads. If that means nothing to them, then screw 'em. Let them fend for themselves. Power isn't everything. It doesn't automatically make you a good person. If it did, there'd be no wars. We'd have peace. But we don't . . . A man's worth should be measured by what he accomplishes. And the goals he strives to attain. That's how you tell the strong ones apart from the weak."

It was tricky to see in the poor lighting, but she could have sworn that Sesshoumaru's pupils dilated.

"Well said," muttered Cyril.

Octavia broke eye contact with Sesshoumaru and turned to the warlock. "What now?" she asked. "We can't hide down here forever. There has to be a way to undo what's been done."

"'If you wish to reclaim what you have lost, you must seek out my master'," Sesshoumaru recited the shadow's parting words.

"'The city of crystal tears'," Octavia whispered. "But what is that?"

"Our destination, obviously."

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Uh, because it's a trap!"

He cocked his head sideways. "And?"

"What do you mean, and? Did your brain get stolen, too?"

Myoga rubbed his chin in contemplation. "This reminds me of a story I heard during my travels," he mused aloud. "It is tied to the legend of Seishin and the God Stars."

Cyril gasped. "That is heresy."

"I am aware. Allow me to tell it anyway. May the true gods have mercy on me." He cleared his throat. "According to the tale, there is an island somewhere in the Nihon-kai that is covered in ice. The ice is believed to be the frozen tears of the goddess Sakimitama. That is why it was named Namida, meaning 'tears'. The Namidans were supposedly the first humans to wield reiki – which is a magic that comes from the soul – although Buddhists and Shintoists all deny this."

"They aren't wrong to," Sesshoumaru said with a scowl. "It mocks every culture under the sun. The heavens were formed before any gods even existed. To claim otherwise is sacrilege."

"Nidawi didn't think so," Octavia pointed out.

"Then she is a heretic."

Her face mirrored his. "And me? If it is just lies, how do you explain me?"

That silenced him.

"We're going," she announced.

"You just said it was a trap," mumbled Cyril. "Plus, it's unlikely that an island even exists."

"I know, but it's all we have to go on." She lowered her gaze to Myoga's, who was still sitting cross-legged in her hands, and asked him, "What else can you tell us about it?"

"Little is known about the place, but there is rumoured to be a barrier around the island. The barrier presents itself as an untraversable fog. If you seek out the island with impure intentions, the fog ensures that you will never find it. There are no real-life recounts of this fog, though."

"Because it doesn't exist," finished Sesshoumaru. "This is ridiculous—"

Octavia cut him off. "Stay if you want to. But I'm going. That shadow's not going to give up. It'll keep trying to lure us out. It's a miracle no one got hurt. Next time, we might not be so lucky. The more we resist, the more danger we'll be in. Are you willing to compromise Rin's safety?"

Sesshoumaru hesitated. She'd never seen him look so conflicted.

"It will almost certainly be a waste of time," he said finally.

"It's either that or we live underground like moles."

He clenched his jaw. She hadn't noticed until now, but he seemed . . . restless. Veins bulged out of his forehead like tree roots, and his hands were folded into fists, each knuckle as white as moonlight. Was he claustrophobic? It sounded ludicrous, but what other explanation could there be? Perhaps the lack of youki was affecting him more than he cared to admit.

"Very well. We will travel north and search for this island." His pupils contracted as he added quietly, "Do not slow me down. If you do, I'll leave you behind and tell Rin that you stumbled into a ravine. Is that clear?"

"Crystal. I'll tell her exactly the same."

Myoga laughed awkwardly. "Nothing like banter between friends, eh?"

"Shut your mouth, Myoga."

"Apologies, Sesshoumaru-sama."

Cyril coughed in an attempt to dispel the tension. "Now that that's decided, we ought to prepare for the journey to come. You'll need enough provisions to get to the coast. Since it's imperative that you stay hidden, allow me to take care of things, my lord."

Sesshoumaru nodded. "Thank you, Cyril. And make haste."

"Understood."

Cyril bowed and took his leave. Myoga leapt onto Octavia's shoulder and tucked his tiny hands into his sleeves comfortably. Sesshoumaru left to check the exit once more whilst she sat with her back against the rocky wall. Myoga's snores drifted up into her ear.

Octavia carefully slipped the Reikon Blade out of her undergarment and rolled it in her palms, mulling over the shadow's words. She stashed it away as soon as Myoga woke.

We will be waiting for you, little star.

The warlock returned not long after Sesshoumaru. He was leading Ah-Un by the reins. The poor dragon looked far too exhausted to be walking. Sesshoumaru untied its muzzles and rubbed its heaving breast. Octavia tried not to let it show on her face, but the tenderness of his actions surprised her. He really did care about the welfare of his companions.

Cyril had filled two packs with provisions and had even brought her a change of clothes. She thanked him graciously and started to strip, much to everyone's horror. They quickly turned their backs and waited for her to change out of her undergarment and into the dark grey kosode.

When she was finished, Ah-Un tottered over to her and rubbed its heads against her ribs. Stroking its ears, she buried her face into its mane and sighed. "You should be resting," she scolded gently.

"Ah-Un is only transporting you out of the stronghold," explained Cyril. "It will get plenty of rest once it returns."

She smiled at the dragon. "That's good. Look after Rin and Jaken for us, okay?"

Ah-Un growled softly in response.

Myoga jumped from her shoulder and landed on Cyril's head. "I suppose this is farewell," he said with another bow. "It was an honour to make your acquaintance, milady. I hope we meet again."

"I'm sure we will."

Cyril took her hand and squeezed it. "Take care of yourself, Octavia-san. I'll be thinking of you."

"Thank you." She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Sesshoumaru was already walking away. "I'd better go. I don't want to end up in a ravine somewhere."

"He was only bluffing."

She flashed him a toothy smile. "I wasn't."

They parted ways with Cyril and Myoga and exited the tombs. Once they were above ground, Sesshoumaru mounted Ah-Un wordlessly. Octavia climbed into the saddle behind him. Her knees inadvertently grazed his hips, so she scooted backwards in the saddle.

He shook his head in annoyance. "You'll fall if you sit there," he said. "The launch alone would send you flying. Are you that eager to die, human?"

Rolling her eyes, she shuffled forwards and planted her hands on his shoulders. "Better?"

"It is an improvement."

This is going to be a long few weeks.

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Author's Corner

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Nihon-kai = Sea of Japan