Free The Golden Naginata by Jessica Amanda Salmonson

not.”
    â€œI like adventure,” Tomoe jibed, then added sardonically, “And will I fight an oni?”
    â€œThe stars suggest redder devils than my oni.”
    â€œYou, too, are clad in red.”
    The occultist refused to be ruffled by Tomoe’s failure to take the reading seriously. She concentrated on the dish of reflected stars and continued, “Blood is your nemesis. Red death. There is only one white star in the saucer, and it must be yourself; although you might be a red star, too, and the white one is someone else. A red star and white star stand together. Red stars surround these two, as though to attack. Wait! What was that? A momentary streak! The falling star was blue! I don’t know what it means.”
    Tomoe found herself unable to make more snide comments. The blue falling star was undoubtedly the tengu, of which the occultist could know nothing by ordinary means.
    â€œThe placement of the leaves is more interesting,” she said, her voice suddenly oily and sweet. “I see romance. I see marriage. I see a round-faced child …”
    Tomoe slapped the dish from the woman’s hand. It was the sort of fortune sold cheaply to romantic girls at Star Festival every year. To have her attention gained only for an insult enraged Tomoe! She had died to her family and would never have a family of her own; of this, she was certain. Painful anger caused her to draw her sword and cut toward the woman’s face. The veil was clipped off. The fortuneteller turned halfway around so that Tomoe could not see her … but Tomoe saw the face clearly in the moon’s silver light.
    The fortuneteller was beautiful.
    â€œYou are the nun!” said Tomoe. She scooted closer, all anger cast away, looking intense and concerned. “You’re Tsuki Izutsu! Once you tried to convert me to Zen. I thought you’d been killed long ago!”
    The woman’s profile was turned down, frowning. She said, “You have unveiled my face, but not my identity. I don’t remember the name Tsuki Izutsu. If you must have a name for me, call me Naruka.”
    Naruka was a kind of monster that lived near the bottom of the Land of Gloom and was never seen in the living world. It was not a good name for a woman, not even if she worshipped Oh-kuni-nushi, God of sorcery. Tomoe would not consider the name appropriate. Tsuki Izutsu had been only kind! Tomoe said,
    â€œYou must recall!” She scooted nearer. “We fought side by side! You were good at bojutsu , fighting with your staff! We battled seven oni devils of various colors! When you were injured, I thought you died; but one of the oni carried off your corpse. It was the red oni! Why did it save your life? Why does it stay close to you now?”
    â€œI remember nothing of the sort!” The occultist was insistent, almost hysterically so.
    â€œThey were mountain oni although we fought them in the lowland swamps. The one who saved you must have carried your broken body to the mountain priests to be healed.”
    â€œI despise the yamahoshi!” said Tsuki- cum -Naruka. She turned her face toward Tomoe. Hate filled the woman’s eyes. Tomoe gasped; for, lit plainly by the moon, she saw that half the woman’s face was scarred and ugly. The cheekbone was caved in. One nostril had been torn larger. The corner of her mouth was drawn down. She spoke venomously: “You recoil from my visage? Good! Yes, I remember the yamahoshi ‘saving’ my life! They had me brought back from Emma’s hell, sending that foul, devoted oni after my soul! I would rather have been left dead. Of Tsuki Izutsu, there is nothing left, if that was ever my name.”
    The occultist snatched up her staff and began to stand. “You think I am some friend from your past?” she asked in exclamation. “I am your worst possible enemy! Did you not wonder how the young warrior Azo Hono-o found you in Isso, where you had come in