Light. Colour. Sound. Those were James’s first impressions of the Night Market. So much sound.

  “Discount charms! Slightly used, still warm!”

  “Tail brushes! Boar-bristle and moon ash! Make that coat shine like legend!”

  “Oni gourds! Grown in haunted soil, aged in regret—get ’em before they crack!”

  James heard the vendors shouting before anything else. They sounded almost normal. Not like any market that he’d ever been in, but in movies.

  Then he looked past the brightly-coloured silk banners and lanterns and saw that the vendors were anything but normal.

  “Who’s got night-lotus pollen? I’ll trade two jars of firefly honey and a cursed bell!”

  That was a round-eared, portly merchant with a furred face, adorned in a startling number of red beads.

  “Eyebright and shadowmint! For sore vision, or hiding yours!”

  That was some kind of insect, more than six feet tall. Balanced on two legs, it used the others to gesture at both prospective customers and its goods.

  “Last batch of mirror-glass shards—show you your true self or someone else’s lies!”

  That was a hunched figure, with skin the colour of old tea-stains stretched too tight over a long, tapering skull. It had no eyes, just a row of narrow slits that twitched when James looked at it. Its arms were too long, ending in fingers like bundled twigs, and it smiled without lips—just a mouthful of too-even teeth, polished like ceramic.

  “Toldja it would work,” Harue said smugly. James whipped around to look at her. She was still the same as she had been. Her ears and tail were out, and she was dressed in a simple peasant smock. Her fake collar was around her neck, and the chain was still in James’s hand.

  James forced himself to calm down. This was what they were here for, what he’d been told to expect. He just hadn’t thought that there would be so many monsters.

  They crowded around, everywhere he looked. Some wore fur, others feathers. There were scales and misshapen beaks. Things flapped slowly overhead, outside of the light from the paper lanterns that adorned the stalls. It wasn’t just the merchants. The narrow lane was thronging with hideous creatures, everywhere he looked.

  Except, not near them. There was an invisible bubble around them where the monsters would not tread. James looked around, noting that the Torii gate they’d passed through was incongruously placed as if it were just another stall. Four feet behind it, the canvas wall of another store blocked the view.

  Mitsue and Kana were there too, the latter looking around with interest. Mitsue was looking around with sharp, violent motions. The mask blocked the sight of his face, but James thought he must be feeling the same slight panic that James felt.

  “Why are they hanging back?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly by his own mask.

  “Kana, mostly,” Harue said, shrugging. “They’re worried that she’ll snatch and eat anyone who gets too close.”

  James froze and then slowly looked at Kana. “Will she?” he asked.

  Kana smiled at him. “Would that distress you?” she replied. “It is the way of things here. I am the most powerful spirit; therefore, everything they own is mine should I desire it. Even their lives.”

  “That’s more or less correct,” Harue said. “But let’s not start a panicked stampede, hey? We’ve got places to be, so stick close.”

  She turned and plunged into the swarming crowd. James held her leash, so he had to follow. The others did as well.

  “More or less correct?” he asked as they walked. Harue flicked her ears dismissively.

  “Every part of that statement came with caveats,” she explained. “Some powerful spirits have a lot invested in this place; they wouldn’t respond well to her eating their merchants. Plus, even the most malevolent of dragons know that places like this are worth much more than their snack value.”

  “Oh. Good. So they don’t get eaten.”

  “Not… often,” Harue said evasively.

  “So someone is in charge of all this?” Mitsue asked.

  “In charge is a strong word,” Harue said. “Someone from the Golden Dawn will probably be collecting protection money.”

  “I’ve heard of that group,” Mitsue mused. “I was warned that it was a dangerous mystical organisation.”

  “A spirit yakuza, basically,” Harue said shortly. “They’ve got fingers in a lot of Hidden World pies.”

  “Next question,” James said. “Why is everybody glaring at me?”

  He was getting a lot of looks from the monsters they passed. Some of them looked hostile. The others had faces so strange he couldn’t tell… but he didn’t like the odds.

  “Oh, that’s easy. No one likes a slave-owner.”

  “You—why—” James ground his teeth. “Why did you choose this disguise then?”

  “Relax, Master,” Harue drawled. “We’re not here to be liked. We have a particular impression to make on a small group of specific people. This is perfect.”

  “You’d better be right,” James grated.

  “I’m always right,” Harue said carelessly. “Now, remember the protocol. A master doesn’t speak to someone else’s slaves, and the guys running the stall are going to be slaves.”

  “Got it,” James said. His nervousness was gone, replaced by his growing irritation at Harue. Wait—did she do that deliberately?

  She would certainly claim she did if he mentioned it, so James resolved not to ask.

  “That’s the place,” Harue said, pointing to a stall up ahead. “Kana, this is as far as you go.”

  “Understood,” Kana said, taking a seat at a nearby stall. “I will have Moonshadow tea,” she commanded the startled vendor. It had the face of a blue-furred cat and long, spindly fingers.

  “Great Lady,” the monster said. “This is a ramen stall.”

  “I didn’t ask for your life story,” Kana snapped. “I asked for tea.”

  “Yes, Great Lady!” the monster blurted. It leapt into action, diving over the counter into the street and running towards a tea stall.

  “Why can’t Kana come with us?” James asked. His nervousness was coming back.

  “She’s going to be our backup, in case something goes wrong,” Harue said. “We can’t bring a dragon to a business deal; people will get the impression that we’re threatening them.”

  “A most accurate impression,” Kana said with a smug smile. She watched as the ramen-stall attendant bargained frantically with the tea-merchant.

  “She’ll be fine,” Harue said, tugging on James’s sleeve. “Come on, Master, let’s go.”

  The stall they were headed toward was a little different from most of the ones James had seen so far. For one, it looked like a permanent construction, with wooden walls instead of cloth. For another, it was selling charms and talismans, crafted out of metal and paper. Most of the stalls James had passed were selling foods or animal parts. At least, James hoped they were from animals.

  Another difference was that the attendants didn’t hawk their wares like the other vendors. They just sat there silently. They both wore long, flowing robes with sleeves that covered their hands, and rice hats that concealed their faces. One of them had a veil attached to the hat that completely hid their face, while the other one’s features were unnaturally veiled in shadow.

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  Harue went up to them without hesitation. “My master wishes to speak with Master Tan Wira.”

  Both of the attendants looked at her, but said nothing.

  “He has merchandise that your master will be interested in.”

  This time, the hats turned to look at James. There was a pause. Then the veiled one spoke with a gurgling voice.

  “Master’s time is not to be wasted.”

  “Nor will he be pleased if he misses this opportunity,” Harue said. She held up a small display box and opened it. The two attendants looked inside. James couldn’t see either the inside of the box or the spirits' reactions, but he knew what the box contained.

  A single strand of Suki’s hair.

  “A Living Doll,” Harue said softly. “If you do not know what that is, rest assured, your master will.”

  The veil-faced one reached for the box, but Harue snapped it closed and tucked it away.

  “Don’t think we’ll be giving your master the tools to track her,” she said scornfully. “He can look, but that’s all until we have a deal.”

  The two spirits looked at each other. Then they got up and bowed to James.

  “Introductions?” the veil-faced one gargled. The shadow-faced one started dragging the counter out of the way. What looked like a heavy counter moved smoothly, without a sound.”

  “My own name is not important,” Harue lied. “My master is named Elias Thorne, and his bodyguard is known as Kuroumaru.”

  “This way, please. The Master will be informed.” The veil-faced gargler gestured at the door that the shadow-faced one was opening. It looked remarkably sturdy for a market stall, made of thick wood and bound with iron. The shadow-faced one stepped through and beckoned for them to follow.

  The group found themselves in a wide corridor that stretched for far longer than was reasonable. The floor was long wooden floorboards, and wood panels lined the walls. Light streamed in from paper-covered windows, as if it were day. James looked at Harue, who gave him an unconcerned shrug. The shadow-faced servant slid open a shoji door to reveal a comfortably-appointed waiting room.

  “Please wait here,” it whispered, drawing out each word. Then it left, closing the door behind it.

  “Can we talk?” James asked.

  Harue shrugged. “About some things. Spatial magic is pretty common in the world of sorcery. Either we went through a hidden gate, or this stall is much bigger on the inside.”

  “And the light? It was night when we got here.”

  “Magic to mimic sunlight isn’t hard.”

  James grunted and settled in to wait.

  They didn’t have to wait long before the servant came back and beckoned them. “The Master will see you now,” it whispered and led them through the corridor to another room.

  This room was much the same as the first, except it had a single couch facing a comfortable chair on a raised platform. On the chair sat a very old man.

  He wore a series of layered robes that had faded to the colours of dried blood and old parchment. Stitched into them were charms that looked hand-made and well-used. His hair was white and fine, pulled back into a simple tail, and his skin bore more deep-etched creases than anyone James had ever seen.

  A necklace of mismatched beads—bone, jade, something that shimmered like insect shell—rattled softly with his movements. One of his eyes was clouded, the other sharp as a hawk’s, glinting with dry amusement as he surveyed his visitors.

  “Welcome, visitors,” he said with a high, dry voice. “Do forgive me for not getting up, and also this ostentatious affectation of a chair. At my age, it’s so difficult raising my head, that I prefer to look down at my honoured guests.”

  Informed by Harue’s coaching, James stepped forward, bowing as he drew near the couch. Then he took a seat. Mitsue and Harue remained standing behind the couch. The old man’s eyes flicked in Harue’s direction.

  “You play a dangerous game, capturing a kitsune. It will end in tears, I know it!”

  He laughed briefly before a cough stopped him. “Ah, but we were all young once.”

  James inclined his head. “This is just… a temporary arrangement.”

  “One way or the other,” the old man agreed. “You must have a habit of collecting women of various sorts, yes? Only to be expected in one so young.”

  The old man cackled when James checked that his mask was still there. “Oh, I don’t need to see your face to know your age,” he chuckled. “But enough games. You claim to have captured one of my old master’s pets?”

  “I never said I captured her. And… old master?” James asked.

  “Former master, yes. I was an apprentice to the Old Man back in the day.”

  “Really?” James had heard Kotodama referred to as the Old Man before, but it seemed incongruous coming from someone so clearly ancient. “I hadn’t heard he took apprentices.”

  “Oh, he takes many. Few of them survive, though, so I can consider myself special. As for my ‘captured’ assumption, Living Dolls are never traded legitimately. They adapt perfectly to their owners. For an owner to be dissatisfied with their possession is unheard of.”

  “She’s… stolen,” James admitted. “I don’t know how to adjust her programming. Will that be a problem?”

  “Oh ho!” the old man chuckled. “How bold of you! I do happen to have some notes that may be of use.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Fetch me my diary from Dīngchǒu of the Republican Era—the old red-bound ledger with the pressed orchid on the cover.”

  An empty piece of air swirled and condensed into a small cloud, and then disappeared. The sorcerer looked back at James.

  “Mark my words, lad. Keep your notes organised. You never know how long it will be before you need them again. However, you seem to be under the apprehension that I’ll need to change her programming.”

  “You won’t?” James asked guardedly.

  “I might. If I wanted her for the purpose for which she was designed,” the old man admitted. “But it’s been twenty years since a pretty face and soft hands could coax anything out of this withered old frame.”

  “What… would you be interested in buying her for, then?” James asked, glad that the mask concealed the expression on his face.

  Master Tan laughed so hard, his wrinkled face seemed in danger of cracking. Bits of spittle flew from his thin lips.

  “Isn’t that something that you should know, if you’re going to sell her?” he cackled. “Let me tell you, boy. There are two things that a man might want with such a thing—aside from the obvious one.”

  “I’m eager to hear your wisdom,” James said, doing his best to keep the bitterness and sarcasm out of his voice.

  This only set the old man to laughing more.

  “The first is to study, of course,” the old man said. “Master’s techniques are without peer, and there would be much to learn from an… exhaustive examination.”

  An old book bound in red leather appeared out of thin air next to Master Tan. The old man took it and started to leaf through it, nodding.

  Harue nudged James on the shoulder, and he risked a glance behind him. She looked significantly at the book and then gave him a wink.

  “The second thing…” Master Tan continued, “Would be to return it to the Old Man for a reward. Not an avenue that is available to you, I gather.”

  “What makes you say that?” James asked.

  “Because you’re here, of course! The Old Man could reward you most handsomely, far more than I could. Unless… it was him that you stole from in the first place.”

  James didn’t say anything; he just stared at the old sorcerer, who grinned, showing the gaps in his teeth.

  “You were wise to show up without the merchandise, I’ll grant you,” the old man said. “But what would the Old Man give a greater reward for? The item that was stolen, or the one who stole it?”

  There was a tense silence as James tried to formulate a response.

  “I—” he started before he was interrupted. By Harue.

  “There’s no need to choose, Master Tan.”

  The fox walked around the couch, her eyes on Master Tan. James tried to pull her back, but the chain was gone.

  Master Tan cackled, clearly amused. “How impudent! But continue.”

  Harue bowed, her tails flicking up behind her. “The girl in question—the Doll— is in love with this young fool. Capture him, and you’ll be able to snare them both!”

  “Love is it?” The old man laughed. “How wonderful, that I should live long enough to see such a fine show! You must have come here looking for help with her restrictions. Alas, you placed your trust in a kitsune. Did I not warn you how it would end?”

  The sorcerer's eyes gleamed with avarice. “What an unfortunate mistake that was for you to make. Your servants can go—someone has to tell this lucky lady where she can find her lover. But you, I’m afraid, must stay. Take him.”

  “Run!” Mitsue commanded. Something flew over James’s shoulder, and the room started to fill with smoke. James tried to move, but he couldn’t. He was held in place by the air around him. He could see bands of clear air binding him in place, not mixing with the smoke.

  Then a face swam into view. His face. The grin on it was one hundred percent Harue, though. He—she—grabbed his mask and pulled it off. Then a long claw—which did not look right on his human hand—sliced through the bands of air.

  “Run!” she suggested. Then she pushed him back, tipping the chair over. He fell right into Mitsue’s arms.

  “We need to move!” Mitsue said urgently. He pulled James to his feet and dragged him towards the door.

  “But Harue—” James started.

  “Leave her,” Mitsue said grimly. “She made her choice.”

  As they went through the door, James saw the servant who had led them in, cut down but still alive. Its arms—spindly and green-skinned— reached out to stop them, but Mitsue evaded them easily. He slashed with his ninjato, and the arms pulled back.

  They could hear fighting and laughter behind them, but they didn’t stop until they crashed through the outer door and into the market stall. The stall attendant jumped out of the way of Mitsue’s blade, and then both boys leapt over the counter to get away.

  The attendant hissed at them like a steam kettle, but they didn’t look back. Further hisses told James they were being followed.

  “Head for the ramen stall!” Mitsue yelled. James didn’t need to be told. It was close by, right there in fact, and Kana… wasn’t there.

  “Her, too?” Mitsue snarled. He turned to face their pursuer.

  It was the veil-faced one, moving with such urgency that its robe was in disarray, revealing its clawed feet. Its… whatever it had in place of hands was also revealed, but James wasn’t sure what they were. Flippers? Or tentacles? Whatever they were, they were holding long knives that glowed a sickly green.

  James summoned his sword with a thought. He was getting better at that. A moment more and he’d have his armour.

  Kana’s long, sinuous, true form descended from the black sky. Her great jaws opened and crunched down on the head of the hapless servant.

  To James’s great surprise, blood didn’t go splattering in every direction. Instead, the servant dissolved into a cloud of black smoke. Smoke that Kana breathed in through her wide nostrils, with every evidence of enjoyment.

  “Are we ready to move on to Phase Two?” she asked, her body coiling in midair.

  James stared at her.

  “What Phase Two?” Mitsue asked sharply.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Kana said smugly. “I was entrusted with the details of the plan, since the two of you would be unable to act out your roles if you knew the details.”

  “What plan?” James demanded. “Harue betrayed us! She—” James stopped. He wasn’t sure what had happened back there. If that figure that looked like him had been Harue, then—

  “She said you would be confused,” Kana said. “She really does understand humans,” she muttered to herself, shifting back into her mostly-human form. “I’m not sure why, you normally understand Japanese perfectly well. I shall explain.”

  She switched to speaking English.

  “You see, Keikaku means plan.”