Free The Night Parade by Kathryn Tanquary

cover all of his sagging shoulders because so many holes had been worn through the fabric.
    The fox slid up to Saki’s side and made a throat-clearing noise.
    Saki took a deep breath and bowed. “Sorry…” was all she could manage before her voice withered into a whisper.
    The old ogre grunted and plodded forward along the road. His body swayed from side to side, and his arms swung back and forth. His form disappeared in the tide of spirits, though his gray horns bobbed up and down among the crowd.
    Saki remained on the ground for as long as it took for her heartbeat to slow down. She’d had enough close calls for one night. When she could finally breathe regularly, she tried to stand up on quivering legs.
    â€œI thought he was going to eat me,” she confessed to the fox.
    â€œHe might have if you hadn’t apologized,” the fox said. “Ogres aren’t my sort of creatures. Much too blunt. Well, don’t just stand there. We must move on.”
    They continued down the Pilgrim’s Road, where every sight was stranger and more spectacular than the last. Many of the spirits ignored Saki, though some stopped to pay respects to the fox. Sometimes Saki felt eyes watching her, but she could never catch any of the creatures in the act. Perhaps the fox was right, and there had been other humans before her. Or perhaps it had been so long that the spirits had forgotten what a real human looked like. Either way, she had no words to describe the kind of sights she was seeing. Even if she could, no one she knew would ever believe her.
    An enormous torii gate, bigger than any Saki had seen before, straddled the spirit road. The pillars on either side were as thick as a train car and as tall as two of them stacked end to end. The bright red paint shone as though it had been put on yesterday.
    â€œThis is the first gate,” said the fox. “We’ll need to go through all of them before we’re even close to the shrine.”
    â€œWait, are you sure this is the right way?” Saki asked. “The torii gates leading to the shrine don’t look anything like this.”
    â€œWhat a silly question. Just because it looks different doesn’t mean it is different. Look, over there!” The fox pointed with her four tails to one of the shining pillars. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
    Scrolled across the base of the torii pillar was indeed her family’s name in vivid black calligraphy. She ran her fingers over the characters, half expecting the paint to rub off on her skin.
    â€œThis is impossible.” Saki gaped.
    â€œPerhaps,” said the fox, “yet you can see it for yourself. Shall you believe your own eyes, or shall you cling to what you think you ought to be able to see?”
    Saki had no answer.
    â€œDon’t think too long, or at least move your feet while you do it. Come on, we mustn’t dawdle. I have other things to do tonight, you know, so the sooner we finish, the better.”
    They passed through other gates, each just as bright and shining as the first. None of the paint looked chipped or faded. They passed half a dozen gates before the last one appeared far ahead.
    The final torii gate was unpainted, just as it had been that morning, though it had grown ten times in size to accommodate the girth of the Pilgrim’s Road. The wood rose smoothly out of the earth, as though the gate was somehow crafted from living trees. A queue of spirits formed at the mouth of the gate, and each spirit waited its turn to pass. Perched on the horizontal beam between the pillars was a creature covered in long black hair that dangled in clumps over the road. Behind the hair peered a blue face with a wide, twisting mouth. The guardian’s claws braced against the edges of the beam, ready to pounce at any moment.
    Saki and the fox stood at the end of the queue, waiting for their turn. Saki fidgeted on the path and twisted the hem of her