Page 50 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

The witch sprung at her with a shrill scream. Her sticky threads turned into shards of obsidian, and they sliced through the wall of magical heat keeping them at bay. The world slowed again, like it had with Akiji, and the same low-pitched hum filled Shumei’s ears. She twisted, preparing to strike and hoping to dodge the spear-like fingers of Majo’s power. She could tell she’d be hitting hard by the strain in her waist.

The witch’s hateful face came closer. Shumei knitted her brows with determination. Her right fist connected, impacting the center of Majo’s chest.

Disbelief contorted the witch’s face. A shard of her magic reached Shumei, slowly slicing the top of her shoulder. It left fiery pain in its wake.

The world slammed into real time. The air whirled around her in a tight spiral as Majo flew back. The witch hit the rear wall of her home with a sickening crack before crumpling onto the floor.

Shumei took in a great gulp of air. She had been holding her breath for those precious seconds that had saved her life. Wincing, she tenderly touched the wound on her shoulder, and her fingers came back covered in blood.

A wave of exhaustion hit her. She swayed and nearly fell. For a split second, she seriously considered taking a nap on the witch’s sleeping mat, but shook that ridiculous thought out of her head. She had to stay upright and on guard. She wasn’t out of the worst of it yet. The witch wasn’t moving, but she was still breathing.

She could end it now. Though she didn’t entirely understand, she knew somewhere deep inside she had to kill Majo. It wasn’t just because the woman was dangerous. It was somehow her duty, her destiny to kill this woman.

Her mind rebelled. It wasn’t natural to want to kill someone. The mere thought of searching out a weapon and using it made her sick. She hadn’t come here to do that. She’d come for one reason only, and she had little time.

She scrambled to the case in the corner, remembered it was locked, and rummaged through the witch’s discarded dress on the floor. After quickly locating the key, she returned to the chest and unlocked it. Her shoulder throbbed terribly and her head was swimming, but she pushed aside the heavy pouch of kols and pulled out the book she had been seeking.

It was heavier than she would have guessed, and the cover wasn’t made of leather or any other ordinary material. It was hard, almost like glass or rock. The handprint on the front was twice as large as hers, and her fingers came away blackened by some dark substance just from touching it. The page edges were dirty and uneven, looking almost as if they had been burned down to the correct size for a book.

She hastily pulled open her pouch, shoved the book inside, and secured the flap with a leather string. The pain in her shoulder had seeped down her arm, leaving it half-numb and tingling. She was losing a great deal of blood. Though unsteady on her feet, she made it to the door and flung it open.

The limp threads of Majo’s magic still clung to her as she closed the door behind her. She hobbled a few steps away, the pain in her tweaked hip returning, and paused for a breath of fresh air when she was free of the sticky web.

“Shumei,” a familiar voice called. Her heart shot to her throat as adrenalin pumped anew through her veins. She turned in a circle, peering into the mist still lingering in the valley, but she didn’t see Akiji anywhere. She had known he’d be seeking her out today. His father was still ordering hangover medicine every week. But she couldn’t deliver medicine to him anymore. Nor to anyone.

She ducked onto the path that looped around the village and hurried in the direction of her home, needing to stop there for a precious minute to collect her brother and medicine for her wound. She hoped Vallen answered her call quickly today.

She rounded a sharp corner at a jog and passed behind Master Takebe’s home. His wife, already standing after a couple days’ rest, was outside collecting firewood from their personal pile and was startled to see her. “Shumei?”

Shumei shook her head. She put several more houses behind her and cut through a grouping of abandoned homes. The families who had once lived here had been the first to succumb to the Burning. It was Majo’s fault these homes were dark and silent. She turned another corner—

“Found you,” came a growl.

“A-Akiji!” She tried to take a few hasty steps back, but she was too rattled for one morning to move quickly enough. Akiji grabbed her arm. His face was tight with either anger or concern—she couldn’t tell yet.

“What happened to your shoulder?” he asked, jerking her closer, which brought a gasp of pain. His eyes widened. “Was it the sex demon? Where is he?”

“Let go of me,” she said, strength gone after fighting off Majo.

“No, I’ll never let go! You’ve evaded me for the last time, you d-damned whore.”

“What? I-I’m not—”

“I found a note on my door,” he said, voice shaking with anger. He brought his hand up so fast she flinched, but then she saw the edges of a crumpled bit of paper poking out of his fist. “Someone was good enough to tell me that the one woman I desired as my wife, the only one in the village I loved above all others, who I swore to care and provide for, was fucking a demon of her own will.”

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know how to look at him. His grip on her arm turned painful.

“Why?” he asked, eyes shimmering.

“Y-You’re hurting me.”

He shook her. “Tell me why. Why don’t you love me?” She felt a pang of pity and knew there was no way to answer him without telling the truth.

“When I look at you,” she whispered, “all I feel is fear and disgust. You cannot make me happy.”

“And t-this demon doesn’t frighten you? Disgust you?” he asked, grimacing at her insult. “He brings you happiness?”

“Yes.”