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  Shiromainu sighed in exasperation. “Beat him again until he learns some manners.” More than ever, his shoulders sagged with defeat.

  He apologized to me for his grandnephew’s behavior. I tried to swallow the hard lump in my throat and make my face less guilty, but I didn’t think I managed it. For once, Petennouk had been speaking the truth, at least he had about me.

  Every moment I worried he would tell others what he’d seen and use that to point out my flaws in character. I imagined every eye in the village watched me now, weighed my every interaction with my friends. Chinatsu kept her hands clutched in front of her at all times and had stopped hugging me and the other girls so much. I remained an appropriate distance from other women, and I kept my eyes averted in the onsen.

  Three days before I would be leaving, Petennouk brought tea to the table where Shiromainu and I sat in our private room for breakfast. His face was black and blue, one of his eyes nearly swollen closed. He bowed his head and behaved appropriately cowed.

  Even so, I noticed the way Petennouk’s filthy fingers touched the mouths of our cups. With privy duty, I didn’t trust him not to have purposefully slipped filth into our drinks. If there was one thing I’d learned from Faith’s teachings of her people, it was that disease could be sharper than a knife.

  I remembered the way he had begged the kasha kamuy to help him become nipa when he’d crawled into that secret place. Had she given him what he’d wanted and suggested how he might do so? Nothing short of a miracle could redeem him from the low status he’d earned for himself. He’d asked for a bracelet. I didn’t understand the significance of this request. In any case, I didn’t see one on his bare arms or think it would help him.

  I bowed to Petennouk, seeing his tea, using customary politeness. “No, thank you. We are not thirsty.” As an afterthought, I added. “Please, let us give our cha to you instead. You must be thirsty after your morning of work.”

  Shiromainu looked to me, eyebrow raised. He didn’t drink it. At our midday meal, I refused the drink for a second time, and third time after my tonkori practice with Hekketek and Pananpne. Shiromainu didn’t question me or chide me for my rudeness, not even later privately. When Petennouk brought cha as we ate dinner in the great hall, Shiromainu placed a hand on mine, his tone low enough that only I should hear. “Do not refuse him this time. Let him make peace with you.”

  His eyes were so sad under his eboshi. I could see Petennouk’s behavior broke Shiromainu’s heart. He might have publicly denounced his kin, but he hadn’t done so in his heart. Every time Petennouk behaved badly, it hurt him and shamed him. I’d already caused Nipa so much sorrow. I didn’t want to be the cause of any more. I didn’t want to be the only one who pointed out the truth to him. I didn’t want to tell him what I’d overheard Petennouk tell the kasha kamuy.

  This time Petennouk’s hands were cleaner, but I noticed the oily sheen on top of the tea. Shiromainu accepted the tea and took a sip. When he wasn’t looking, I dumped both on the reed mats behind us. The spill wouldn’t be good for the mats, but better that than in our bodies. Pananpne met my eyes across the room where she watched from serving the stew. She’d seen me. She nodded as if approving of my actions.

  I would have to tell Shiromainu what I’d heard. I’d have to tell him how Petennouk plotted against his own nipa. But not here in public. Shiromainu would be forced to act and it would disgrace them both. I just needed to get through the evening and tell him privately in his chamber.

  When Petennouk brought around the teapot to refill our cups, his smile was a little too cloying. “How are you feeling, Sumiko-san?” He kept his eyes on the floor.

  I exchanged the pleasantry, trying to read what he was getting at. “Fine, thank you and you?”

  “Very well. I simply ask because you look … tired.”

  “No, but thank you for inquiring.”

  He studied me for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor. His frame wore disappointment like it was a fur manto. I now knew he hadn’t put something like excrement in our tea out of revenge. He had put something in it to make us ill or tired. Poison? As I watched, I saw he served no others out of this tea pot. I again dumped out the tea when no one was looking. Shiromainu frowned when he saw his cup was empty. Pananpne rushed up to the table to give him her own.

  I was fortunately to have a friend who understood Petennouk’s character.

  Three times I emptied Nipa’s tea, each time my heart thrumming against my ribs in anticipation that Shiromainu should catch me. There was storytelling and singing as entertainment, a special treat I would have normally loved, yet all I wanted was to get out of the great hall to avoid Petennouk. If I did, no one would be there to protect Nipa from poison.

  When Petennouk next refilled my cup and exchanged pleasantries, Shiromainu leaned toward my ear. “Thank you for your kindness to Petennouk-san—chan. Someday he will redeem himself and I will again reclaim him as my kin.”

  I bowed my head and pretended to listen to the singing of a young man. All the while, my heart clenched in turmoil at his words. Was Shiromainu truly blind when it came to his own family? He couldn’t see the ill his grandnephew did. He didn’t see how he would do worse. What would he do if I told him the truth, that he meant to poison us? Would he believe me? Perhaps, and then what? How would he live with the disappointment? I would shame him again. And worse than the shame, what action would he be forced to take?

  Everyone’s eyes were on the singer. I dumped out the cha again. Hekketek came this time with a different pot and refilled our drinks. Had she not, Shiromainu would have noticed his cup was empty I was sure he would have called Petennouk over to refill it.

  It was difficult to sit still and stay calm when my insides bubbled with anxiety. Petennouk had not been broken. He resisted humility and further shamed himself with is actions. I had chosen his fate and doomed Shiromainu in doing so. The weight of great responsibility pressed against my chest, making it feel as though stones were piled there.

  I wanted to flee from the room like a child. But I wasn’t allowed to be a child. I was Nipa’s wife, even if temporarily so. I had to serve as a worthy representative of my people. I needed to come up with a solution for my mistake. Across the dining hall, Pananpne and Chinatsu whispered quietly in a corner, looking to me. Opere and Hekketek soon joined them. I made eye contact with Opere and glanced over at Petennouk who stood in the corner, watching the singer. Opere bit her lip. I hope she understood she needed to watch him.

  She wove closer and placed her pot of tea on our table. She bowed deeply. “Excuse me Nipa. I wonder if I could borrow Sumiko-san for her advice in a female matter.”

  I was so relieved. Now he had an entire pot of his own tea. Petennouk had no excuse to come over.

  Shiromainu smiled. “Ah yes, of course. I see my little wife’s wisdom is needed. I will be here when you come back.”

  Opere took me by the hand and led me out into the hallway. Moonlight shone through a window. Cold night air bit at my bare arms. The singing from the great hall died away as we traveled down the hallway.

  I flung my arms around her as I would have a sister. “I have made the wrong decision,” I said. How I wished Faith were there for me to confide in and hold me.

  “Nani? What do you mean?”

  “Petennouk means to do harm to Nipa. I will not let him while I’m here, but when I leave in two days, he will kill your Nipa with poison. This is my fault. I chose leniency and I should have chosen death.”

  Hot tears filled my eyes. She stroked my hair. “Our duty is to our Nipa.”

  “But if that is so, how can I save face for Nipa? Any action I take will injure him.” There was my own shame to consider, but more than that, Shiromainu’s and my brother’s. “He disowned Petennouk. If I tell the elders what he’s doing, Nipa will have to choose death, correct? And no one will blame him because they are no longer family, correct?”

  Her voice was gentle. “Y
ou noticed this, but Shiromainu didn’t, ne? How do you think the elders will respond?”

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

  “They will say he is an old man, too blind to see a steaming pile of chiramantep excrement before he steps into it. He isn’t fit to serve as leader. He will say he isn’t fit for leading, ne? He will resign and we will lose our nipa.” She looked me in the eyes, like a friend and equal even though I was technically her superior.

  If Shiromainu resigned, that would mean the merging of tribes wouldn’t happen. Faith might not be accepted by the new leader. I didn’t want that, nor did I want to cause Shiromainu more shame. This whole mess was my fault.

  Again.

  “What can I do? How can I fix what I’ve done?” I asked.

  She drew a dagger from her boot and handed it to me. “I think you know what you must do.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  There is no such thing as a bad chiramantep. There is only a bad trainer.

  —Chiramantepjin saying

  I stared at the knife in the glitter of moonlight. My mind spun. How could I kill? He was bigger, stronger and cleverer than I was. He was Shiromainu’s blood relative, even if he wasn’t in name anymore. I would be committing a terrible wrong. Yet if I didn’t, wasn’t I being false in my loyalty to this tribe and the man I hoped would become my permanent nipa?

  “Sumiko-san!” a voice from down the hall called.

  My spine went rigid. It was Petennouk. I quickly shoved the knife inside the sleeve of my attush where it wouldn’t be seen.

  He turned the corner and came into sight. “Is everything all right?”

  “Sumiko-san isn’t well,” Pananpne said. “I was just about to walk her to the nearest privy. It’s so easy for guests to get lost in the dark.”

  I clasped my hands together over my belly.

  “Oh, I see, Pana-chan. That is a good idea to escort Sumiko-san so she doesn’t get lost. But I only came out here because your mother was asking after you in the great hall, and I said I saw you come out here. So sad you are missing such splendid singing.” He paused, placing a hand on his chin as if thinking. “I will not be missed if I escort Sumiko-san.”

  “Yes, I suppose that would be all right. You are in her debt as she let you live,” Pana said coolly.

  Petennouk didn’t appear to notice. He placed a hand on my lower back, a little too familiarly and pushed me along. I glanced over my shoulder. Pana remained rooted to the spot.

  After the first flight of stairs, I knew he wasn’t taking me to the nearest privy. I kept my hands folded in front of me, a dagger hidden in one hand as I walked. Petennouk chattered away amiably, a good distraction had I not been suspicious. I walked slowly so I could better examine his every step. I watched his hands as he spoke, aware of his movements. He escorted me up another flight of steps and to a balcony high on top of the box-like structures of the palace.

  “Is there a privy nearby?” I asked, doing my best to affect a weak and frightened tone.

  “Yes, of course. But you sound tired. We should let you rest for a moment first.” He tried to push me closer to the edge of the balcony, but I ground my feet into the stone. It was time to make my move.

  “What did you put in my cha?” I asked.

  “Nothing you didn’t earn.” His face transformed in the moonlight, taking on an inhuman quality.

  Was it an evil kamuy inside him, or simply the man who he truly was? My guilt at what I had to do evaporated. I dodged out from between him and the edge and lashed out with the knife. He ducked back. Pale moonbeams played over his face. It was difficult to follow his movements in the darkness. I shifted to place myself in the shadows. When he lunged at me, the knife was hidden for the briefest of moments so that he couldn’t see my aim. He leapt right into my knife.

  He stumbled back, hands clutching his stomach. He looked from me to the black stain slowly spreading over his attush. It only would take one kick to send him over the edge. I took a deep breath and did what I needed to do. I kicked him in the stomach. He grunted and slipped into the darkness.

  I stood there for a long time, catching my breath. I felt numb inside like I had just witnessed a dream rather than experiencing something of my own. A warm hand touched my arm. My senses came crashing back to me. I jumped back, knife raised.

  Pana stood beside me. She raised her hands to show she meant no harm. “It’s just me.”

  “And us.”

  Chinatsu, Hekketek and Opere stepped out of the shadows.

  Hekketek held out a knife of her own. “We followed so that we would be there if he tried to hurt you.”

  Chinatsu tucked her knife back into her boot. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  They took me to the onsen. By the time they were done scrubbing the blood from my hands I was shaking so violently I couldn’t go back to the great hall to rejoin Shiromainu. All I could think of was that I had failed. I had misjudged Petennouk and nearly risked my life and Nipa’s. I could have died. I had killed a boy only a few years older than myself. He might have been a kamuy in boy’s skin, but surely there had been a little bit of the boy still inside. I couldn’t get the memory of him kneeling with tears in his eyes in the council chamber out of my mind.

  “We will say you are sick. I will say I was with you the entire time,” Pana said. “Nipa doesn’t need to know.”

  “Yes, I will run to tell him once we put you to bed,” Chinatsu said.

  That was how he found me, shivering and crying, when he came to our room.

  “Your wife has taken ill,” Pana said. “Perhaps it was something she ate.”

  Shiromainu touched my forehead. I didn’t have a fever, I was only chilled. He bundled me in furs while my friends sank back.

  “Chinatsu-san, send for one of the grandmothers to make a special cha to sooth Sumiko-san’s belly.” He placed a hand on his own stomach. “Actually, have her make something for the both of us.”

  The grandmother questioned me on my symptoms, but I didn’t say a word. How could I? I had no symptoms other than deep remorse. Shiromainu was the one who had drank a small amount of whatever Petennouk had put in his tea. He only claimed to be tired and have indigestion, but the grandmother gave him the same tea. I drank the concoction she gave me. Shiromainu spoke to the grandmother in hushed whispers. I listened for word of Petennouk’s death, but all they talked about was my health and what would happen if I fell ill.

  “Could my grand—could Petennouk-chan have put something in Sumiko-san’s cha?” he asked.

  “We will question him in the morning,” the grandmother said. “Both of you are tired. Let your little bride rest, ne?”

  I didn’t sleep for many hours that night. When I did, my dreams were of Petennouk removing his human skin to show the vile monster he was within.

  In the morning, Shiromainu bade me to drink medicinal tea. It was bitter, but I drank it down. My breakfast was a bowl of broth, which was just as well considering that was about all I felt my stomach could handle.

  “Last night when you and Pana left, did you happen to see Petennouk-chan?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. I forced my words to come out calmly, though my tongue felt swollen with lies so it was difficult to form the words. “I was ill. We went to the privies and then the onsen where she helped clean me up and then our room. The other girls assisted.”

  There was a long pause as he sat back, sucking his teeth.

  I cleared my throat. “Why do you ask?”

  “Petennouk-chan was found this morning. He fell from the highest balcony. The elders think his shame may have been too much for him and he threw himself to his death.” He licked his lips. “It is a logical conclusion, ne?”

  I bowed my head. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “He wasn’t my kin anymore.”

  I took his hand. “Even so, I imagine it makes your heart heavy to bear this burden.”

  He drew h
is hand out from under mine. “I don’t believe he killed himself. For one thing, I do not believe that was in his character. For another, a man could potentially survive that fall if he didn’t hit his head or damage his insides. Petennouk’s limbs were certainly broken, but he didn’t die of this. He died of blood loss. There was a wound in his abdomen. Most likely made from a knife.” His eyes were hard as he looked at me.

  Was he asking for the truth? Did he want to know the truth, or would it shame him?

  Truth or honor. Before I had chosen truth. Now I chose honor.

  “I am so sorry for your loss,” I said again with a bow. I hoped I had made the right decision.

  There was no more memory exchange. I suspected Nipa’s mind was made up. Either he would permit my tribe to become one with the Tanukijin or he wouldn’t. He was polite, but behind his eyes was a constant sorrow that hadn’t been there before. I was the cause of this sorrow. I considered telling him the whole truth, how I had caught Petennouk plotting and begging the kasha kamuy in that secret place, but the risk was too great. Anything I said might cost my own life as well as that of my family and tribe. I didn’t want them to suffer because I had made the wrong choices.

  On the morning of the last day in the Tanukijin village, he said, “Tomorrow morning we will return to your tribe to discuss the terms of the tsuma no koukan.”

  Had it truly been fourteen days already?

  I nodded. “May I ask what you have decided?” I forced my hands to stay still in my lap lest they belie my calm voice.

  “You have proven yourself to be wise while you have lived here. You would be an asset to my village and to my household. I will ask you formally if you wish to stay with me and remain as my wife. You must decide if this is something that pleases you.” He dipped low in a gesture of respect and my stomach fluttered in excitement that someone so high should bow to me so deeply.

  In the short time I had lived amongst the Tanukijin, I had been warm and safe. I had made friends and been treated like an adult, not Taishi Nipa’s little sister. With Shiromainu Nipa, I had been an equal. I had been listened to. He had treated me decently.