Page 8 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“Oh no!” She sank to her knees with dismay. “The herbs must have been too old, and we don’t have any more of them here.” She glanced at her brother, who had tossed to his side. She couldn’t lose him, not like this.

“Can’t you…fetch some from…the field?” her mother asked.

Shumei bit her lip to stifle her response. The Burning had been tricking her mother’s senses all day. Thus, Mama hadn’t noticed the sun would soon set, and their field wasn’t a short walk away. Leaving now was risking a lot.

She berated herself for not going earlier while she still had plenty of sunshine to spend. The heavy gray clouds had blown away by midday, revealing a weak, spring sun that had dried the paths in only a couple hours. She had seen their supply of fuki was low while cleaning up after lunch, but villagers had been showing up nonstop to request medicine for the Burning.

Now, Oka would most certainly die without it. If she wanted to save him, she had to risk herself. She had to go to the medicine field…or die trying.

Nodding to her mother, she stood and reached for the empty basket on the rickety shelf against the wall. Her mother lay back, closing her eyes as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Shumei silently prayed for Mama’s life, for no amount of fuki would help her chances, and hoped the Divine One would spare her mother tonight. Then she knelt next to Oka long enough to kiss his forehead before pushing aside the reed door and leaving.

Besides one person in the distance, probably hurrying home, no one was about. Too many people were sick, and it was too close to sunset. Not needing to hike up her skirt because it was already too short, she ran down the familiar path toward the medicine field. She might make it there and back before dark if she cut her travel time in half.

Tall poles stood at even intervals around the village, and a single rope connected them at the top. From the rope hung small wooden blocks with prayers etched into them by the priests from the local temple. When strung in a complete circle, the prayers formed a barrier that evil couldn’t cross. A similar circle of prayers was staked around the medicine field, but there were no prayers to protect her along the way. She tried to ignore the jolt to her heart as she left the safety they provided.

The path beyond the charms turned rough fast. She thought of Oka’s life on the line as she ran, scrambling up the abrupt hills and then skidding down the other side. The impending sunset kept her legs moving, even as her lungs burned for air.

Eventually she came to a large clearing covered with fragrant, early-spring grass, a sea of green broken only by a thin dirt path. She and Oka often played tag here. On summer days when the grass was tall, they would play hide-and-seek. Though she was tempted to check the level of the sun, she knew she’d likely turn and run back home if she saw how little daylight remained, so she kept her eyes on the gap in the tree line where the path continued.

The deepening darkness was frightening enough on its own. Strange shapes and shadows began to emerge. As she weaved through the trees, following the rambling path, each suspicious outline seemed scarier than the last. Had any of them moved after she’d passed?

Her chest heaved with strain as she leapt over a thin, meandering stream, only a couple more minutes from her destination. Sunlight flashed through a break in the newly budding branches, then disappeared as she left the stream behind.

At last, she arrived at the field, uncertain how long it had taken her to get there, but certain she had less time than she wanted. She knelt by a patch of the correct plant, which her mother had sown at the beginning of the season in half-frozen earth, and began harvesting the leaves of the most matured plants, which she placed quickly but carefully into the basket. She would need enough for several families; many more would come to the door that night looking for medicine. She glanced at the sun only once, feeling safe as long as its light touched her.

But by the time the basket was half-full, the sun was below the tree line, only a few moments from disappearing entirely. The pale face of the waxing moon sat low over the eastern rise of trees, heralding the coming of night and warning her to hurry. Tears streamed down her face as she tied the basket shut.

Whenever the sun sank below the horizon, other things rose to greet the night—and they weren’t stars. Elders would tell children stories of these monsters, warning them never to leave the safety of the village at night. Shumei had heard the most powerful monsters could come out into the daylight in defiance of the Divine One, but everyone dismissed such tales as mere rumor.

As surely as there was a Divine One and a Damned One, there were demons to prey upon humans. Sent from the Damned One’s domain of Oblivion, these creatures killed to gain power, eating children and mauling the occasional desperate traveler in obscene ways. Their predation was a by-proxy war between the Golden One and the Foul One, though Shumei thought demons had an unfair advantage. No human could win a one-on-one fight with any of the Damned One’s minions.

Glancing around the edge of the field, she sprinted back the way she’d come. Normally, the woods seemed peaceful during the day. She usually didn’t even think of the horrid monstrosities that prowled the forest while she slept, but now she feared one of them was watching the path, hoping to snatch up an unlucky soul. Which one might it be? She’d heard many stories of different kinds of demons. Almost all of the tales agreed they were ugly creatures made of disparate parts. Some chose specific victims or killed in specific ways. Most simply ate humans.

But the sort of demon that had always held her morbid interest was the kind that ravished humans as their source of energy. Sex demons. They were said to be sinfully beautiful—not out of vanity, of course, but as a means of ensnaring new victims. They’d whisk away a young man or, more often, a young woman and feed off her energy for as long as her spirit lasted. Shumei didn’t know of anyone who’d ever been taken by such a demon, but everyone she’d ever overheard talking about them said the body of a missing woman typically showed up a few weeks or even months after she’d been taken.

Running at top speed for over twenty minutes since leaving her home had left Shumei’s throat parched. Every breath was both agonizing and loud. Thankfully, the stream had appeared up ahead, and though she had skipped it on her way to the field, she knew she would have to stop for a few precious seconds to catch her breath and relieve her thirst.

She skidded to a stop at the muddy bank and dropped to her knees. Panting, she scooped water into the bowl of her hands and drank greedily. The relief was so great her eyes went out of focus, and the tips of her sorely tangled hair became wet as she leaned over the stream for another drink. Counting down from ten, she took one last gulp and drew her sleeve across her wet, open lips. Just ten seconds and she’d have to keep going.

A twig snapped. She gasped, hand already on the handle of her basket. Her other hand she pressed to her heart, which was ready to burst. Peering intently in the direction of the sound, she tried to discern what had nearly given her a heart attack, but the trees were tucked tightly against the stream, and she found it difficult to see much in the low light. She carefully rose to her feet and waited another breath. Had it been an animal?

Then a large shadow emerged, much closer than she’d expected. It had a head, shoulders, arms…

She ran, whimpering as she kicked up dirt in her haste to leave that enormous shape behind. Over the sound of air sawing in and out of her lungs, she heard rapid, heavy footsteps in a familiar cadence, like a horse’s gallop. From which direction, she couldn’t tell, but she almost sobbed when she spotted the clearing ahead. At her current pace, she’d be home in a few minutes.

Breaking away from the tree line, she neither let up speed nor looked over her shoulder, too afraid she’d see something out of her nightmares charging to catch up to her.

But it was too late. A movement from out of the darkened forest path ahead drove fear into the base of her spine like a hammer on a nail. Her legs faltered, and the world slowed. Her heartbeat sounded slow in her ears, but she knew it had never pounded as fast or as hard as it did now. The basket slipped from her fingers to land in the grass as an enormous black horse, gleaming with sweat under the moonlight, entered the meadow.

And the most handsome man she had ever seen was its rider. His hair was as pale as hers was dark, cut just above his shoulders and fluttering in the breeze. Was he a blondie? Had to be, but she couldn’t tell. Nor could she tell much about his build due to his dark clothing, but his sharp, well-defined jaw made her think he was fit and strong. Beneath his prominent brow, his eyes were shrouded in shadow, but below his hawkish nose, the expression on his wide mouth was unmistakable: a smile of delight.

Something inside her twisted, making her stomach clench. He could see her with more than his eyes, she could feel it.

“Good evening,” he greeted in a smooth, deep voice, one that sounded human. “Aren’t you old enough to know it’s dangerous to be out past sunset?”

She hesitated to answer, wondering what response would get her home safely. If he were human—one bold enough to travel at night and harass young women—she could point out he was also out past sunset. If he weren’t human…

“Please don’t hurt me,” she panted, still winded. She picked up her basket. “O-Or make me go anywhere with you. I need to get back to my village.”