Page 23 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

Looking down at her work again, she pulled two large seeds from the pouch slung around her torso and pressed them into the bottom of the hole, careful to make sure the fatter end of the tear-shaped seeds was facing up. This would be the last plant, and then she and Oka could go home, eat a hearty supper, and retire early.

Tossing her head to fling her hair out of her way, she carefully spilled dirt back into the hole and sprinkled in the occasional handful of plant feed, a mixture her mother had taught her how to make. Mama had also taught her how deep and how far apart to place different seeds. She and Papa had taught her how to pair plants to reduce pests, and problems to keep an eye out for as the plants matured. That she even had half a chance of sustaining Oka and herself was thanks to them. Holding back tears, Shumei swallowed the ache in her throat.

As she was about to stand, an unsettling dizziness upset her balance, and she threw out her hands to keep from falling into the row of flowering yagikusa next to her. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on breathing evenly.

She hadn’t felt nauseated since yesterday, for which she was grateful, but after that and Vallen’s binding spell, she wasn’t sure what her body was doing anymore. All morning, it felt like something alive was moving inside her, undulating as if stretching after a long nap.

She’d never suffered heartburn before, something her mother had complained of on occasion, and wondered if she was experiencing it. But the sensation wasn’t like burning—just warmth and movement. And though she felt a small swipe as high as her heart, the bulk of the strange sensation’s weight sat solidly in her stomach.

“Ah, Shumei,” a familiar voice called. She turned in the direction of the voice, but everything swung slower than it should have. Eventually, her eyes settled upon the tall, wide-shouldered frame of Akiji.

She heard small feet running and knew Oka was rushing to her side. Akiji approached. She managed to stand, albeit shakily, and wiped her fingers on a rag.

“Working hard, I see. I wanted to talk to you,” he said, setting his hands on his hips.

“Then speak,” she said. Akiji’s mouth twitched.

“I have it on good authority that you obtained a generous amount of deer meat,” he said mildly, as though speaking of the weather. “And yet Ryoushi says you didn’t buy any from him.”

Ryoushi was the village huntsman, and though he couldn’t leave the village before dawn to be in position for bow hunting or to place traps, he still managed to kill enough wildlife for those who could afford the meat he sold every week. It had been a long time since Shumei had purchased any of his offerings.

She didn’t know how to respond. She had known instantly that Vallen had killed the deer and prepared its meat for her. It had been left inside her door well before dawn, and no one else would dare leave their hut at night, even if the village grounds were considered safe from monsters.

That had been the most shocking part. Vallen had definitely passed the barrier charms, which made him uniquely powerful compared to other demons.

It hadn’t escaped her notice that the only way Akiji could have found out about the deer jerky would be if he’d gone poking around her home without permission. But now was not the time to confront him about it.

So instead of trying to explain—or worse, lie—she asked him a question of her own. “What are you trying to say?”

“Who gave you that meat, Shumei? I know you didn’t kill the deer yourself. You have no hunting experience, no weapons, and you don’t have the strength to drag a deer anywhere suitable for field-dressing the body.”

“Why should I tell you who gave it to me? Is it any of your business?”

He clenched his hands. “As the man who would be your husband, I have the right to ask. Though gifts aren’t a bad thing, the way you might repay someone is what worries me. I don’t believe for a second the dress you’re wearing came from your mother.”

“For the hundredth time, I will not marry you,” she said, voice tight. She decided not to touch his insinuation that she’d instantly resort to offering sex when presented with a gift. “My refusal negates any right you think you have to know my personal affairs.”

“You will be my wife,” he spat, face twisting with rage. “Now tell me who is giving you these things.”

She couldn’t hold back her surprise at his temper. Normally, he acted like a petulant child when she rebuffed him, throwing a mild tantrum or pretending to suck it up and walk away. But ever since the village leaders had broached the topic of her marriage partner, his reactions had escalated.

“N-No.” Though it was the wrong thing to say, she could give him no other answer. If she even hinted at Vallen’s existence, she might lose her home, her brother, her life, or all three.

Akiji hardened his jaw. His wide stance radiated frustration. “You’ll be no one’s whore but mine.”

His hands shot to her shoulders and clamped down, their grip painfully tight. She gasped in fear as he dragged her to him. He had never resorted to physical violence in front of Oka. Her heartbeat thundered in her head as a deep, pulsating hum. It rose inside her, drowning out Akiji’s growling grunts as if someone had rung a large bell.

Time slowed. She heard Oka yelling, and saw him reaching for her in the corner of her eye. Though he was only a couple steps away, his voice was so distant. Akiji pulled her toward him in a bruising grip, clearly about to force a kiss, but it happened so slowly that it seemed she had as much time to react as she wanted. She braced her hands on his chest.

“Get away from me,” she screamed. Something inside her surged, swelling outward from her stomach and stealing her breath. Energy and tension sizzled down her arms. Wind rushed overhead as time resumed its normal speed. The sounds of the forest pressed close against her eardrums. The chirping of birds, the rush of the breeze through the newly grown leaves…

Akiji flew back and landed on his rear with a pained yell. Oka had stopped dead in his tracks. Cursing wildly, Akiji stumbled to his feet.

“Shumei… How?” Oka asked. She looked at her hands, slowly turning them. They were still dirty, still small and weak. She shouldn’t have been able to do that.

Akiji gaped at her as if she had sprouted warts all over her face. She wanted to say something but didn’t know what—certainly not an apology. She was as confused as Akiji was. Without another word, Akiji ran back toward the village, sparing a single, fearful glance over his shoulder before disappearing among the thick trees lining the path.

“Is it because of him? Did he make that happen somehow?” Oka asked. Shumei didn’t have to ask who “he” was. She put her hands down and turned to Oka, who regarded her with worry.