“Ever since that terrible night I’ve grieved for you, Anemone,” the Dragon King said to Reiko as he wept. “For twelve years I’ve worshiped at your funeral altar. For twelve years I schemed to avenge your death.”

Now Reiko understood why he’d pursued Hoshina’s destruction with such excessive zeal. His father, who had killed Anemone, was beyond harm. The Dragon King had transferred his own share of the blame for Anemone’s murder to Hoshina because he couldn’t bear the burden. He’d hoped that by punishing Hoshina, he could assuage his own guilt.

“For twelve years my secret has divided my spirit from yours.” He raised his hand, palm outward, fingers spread, as if against an invisible barrier between himself and Reiko. “It divides us still. I can’t see nor touch you without remembering what I did.”

Reiko also finally understood the reason for his impotence with her and other women. His guilt, not his love for Anemone, had emasculated him.

Sobs convulsed the Dragon King. “The only way for us to reunite is for me to join you in death.”

He lifted the dagger, both hands grasping the hilt, pointing the blade at his middle. Reiko averted her face so that she wouldn’t see the blade zigzag through flesh and vital organs. Sano took her arm and backed her toward the door. The Dragon King breathed in quick, sharp gasps. A groan of frustration and rage issued from him.

“I can’t!” he cried.

Reiko turned and saw him grappling with the dagger. His hands shook violently. The blade’s tip impinged on his stomach. Spasms wrenched his face as he tried to muster the courage to take his own life. Yet he could no more thrust the dagger into himself than he could enter a woman.

The Dragon King ceased struggling. He dropped his hands and the dagger onto his lap. He looked up, his features a blur of tears, defeat, and shame. His gaze lit on Sano.

“Execute Hoshina. Grant me my vengeance,” he said quietly, then gave Reiko a tender, wistful smile. “May our spirits reunite in the real Dragon King’s underwater palace someday.”

He bounded to his feet with a sudden, startling roar and charged across the room toward Reiko. The detectives grabbed for him, but too late. Reiko saw the Dragon King raise the dagger at her. His swift, unexpected motion froze her in terror. She saw the desperate intent in his eyes, and her death impending. But Sano moved even faster. He lashed his sword between Reiko and the Dragon King.

The blade gashed the Dragon King deep across the abdomen. His roar became a squeal of agony. He dropped, spilling blood and viscera from the wound. The dagger fell from his hand. Reiko saw consciousness flee his eyes, and death wipe the expression off his face, even before he crumpled to the floor and lay still. Sano turned her away and enfolded her in his arms. She swooned with horror, delayed shock, and gratitude toward Sano. When her racing heartbeat slowed and her mind cleared, she comprehended what the Dragon King had done.

“He was a coward to the end,” she said. “He had his men kidnap Lady Keisho-in and the rest of us. He wanted the shogun to kill Hoshina for him. Then he attacked me so you would kill him, because he wasn’t brave enough to commit seppuku. He wanted to die here rather than face a trial, scandal, and public execution.”

“He’s proved that a coward can do more harm than many a braver man,” Sano said. His voice was hard; his sword dripped blood as he surveyed the scene. “There’s no need to commiserate over his death. Let’s go. He can stay here for now.”

Before leaving the palace, Reiko leaned over the altar and blew out the candles.

Sano, Reiko, and Detectives Inoue and Arai exited the palace gate to find the square outside as brightly lit, crowded, and noisy as a temple precinct during a festival. Lanterns ringed the perimeter. Troops milled about or bandaged minor wounds; they swilled sake from flasks while bantering about their exploits during the raid on the island. Others guarded a few of the Dragon King’s men who’d been taken prisoner and now squirmed on the pavement with their wrists and ankles bound. In the middle of the square, Midori and Hirata sat happily fussing over their baby. Near them, Detectives Marume and Fukida lay fast asleep, while Lady Keisho-in regaled General Isogai and the army with tales of her adventures. Reiko hurried to Midori. They exclaimed in delight to find each other safe. Chamberlain Yanagisawa approached Sano.

“Some of our men are continuing to search the island,” Yanagisawa said, “but most of the kidnappers seem to have been killed or captured. Did you find Dannoshin?”

Sano nodded, still amazed by the Dragon King’s confession. He had thought he’d learned everything about the man’s crimes before he got here, but the murder that had inspired them had proved to have dimensions he’d never suspected. “I killed him.”

“Then our mission was a success, and all is well,” Yanagisawa said.

But Sano thought otherwise. He was troubled by questions about what had happened to Reiko during her imprisonment. He looked at Hirata, and their gazes met. The smile vanished from Hirata’s face. His expression turned defensive. Sano knew he must eventually take Hirata to task for disobeying orders. A sense of unfinished business permeated tonight’s victory.

Lady Keisho-in clapped her hands. “Listen, everyone,” she ordered. When the crowd quieted and all eyes turned to her, she said, “Thank you for rescuing me. But don’t waste any more time sitting on your behinds and congratulating yourselves. I’m sick of this terrible place. Let’s go home!”

Amid the general stir of agreement, Reiko spoke: “Lady Yanagisawa is still missing.”

Sano had forgotten about her; and so, apparently, had everyone else, including the chamberlain. A commotion ensued as the assembly realized that the rescue wasn’t complete. Sano was about to organize a search for Lady Yanagisawa, when Keisho-in said, “There she is!”

Sano looked in the direction that Keisho-in pointed. He saw Lady Yanagisawa standing alone at the edge of the forest. Her hair and clothes were disarrayed, her posture and clasped hands rigid. With her furtive, wary expression, she seemed a harbinger of trouble yet to come.

32

Four days after the siege upon the Dragon King’s palace, news sellers hawked broadsheets in the hot, teeming districts of Edo. “The shogun’s mother has been rescued from her evil kidnapper and brought home!” they cried.

As the news spread through town, gongs rang at neighborhood shrines, where citizens offered prayers of thanks that fortune had spared Keisho-in. Priests garbed in saffron robes marched in processions through the streets, beating drums, to celebrate their patroness’s deliverance. In the Hibiya official district, guards hauled fourteen captive, shackled henchmen of the Dragon King out from Magistrate Ueda’s mansion and bore them off to the execution ground. The officials attending the trial departed the Court of Justice. Magistrate Ueda stepped off the dais and joined Sano, who had testified during the proceedings.

“Many thanks for saving my daughter,” Magistrate Ueda said. “I hear that Chamberlain Yanagisawa claims the credit for finding and rescuing the hostages, but my sources contradict his story. I’m aware of your role, as are many other people.”

“The honorable chamberlain is welcome to the credit,” Sano said truthfully.

“I also hear you’re back in the shogun’s good graces,” Magistrate Ueda said.

“For however long that may last,” Sano said.

“And Hoshina has been released from prison?”

“The shogun issued the order two days ago-as soon as we returned to Edo and delivered Lady Keisho-in to him, along with the Dragon King’s head as proof that her kidnapper had been brought to justice.”