Clockwork Memories: Book Three in the Memory Thief Series Page 26

  I tugged Shipo back toward the entrance. She sniffled and choked on a sob. I was going to get in trouble because of her. I shouldn’t have followed my father, and I shouldn’t have let her convince me to go into the temple.

  “My duty is to my village first and my family second,” Father said. “I must protect the interests of everyone when we are all at risk of danger. We have traditions for a reason, ne?”

  “Perhaps. Come along. I’m already late for the meeting of the elders.”

  I dragged Shipo far enough down the hallway that I could see the light from outside. We were almost out. I wasn’t going to get in trouble!

  That’s when Shipo let out a high-pitched wail. My hand throbbed, but I was too distraught at the idea of my parents’ wrath to care. I tried to quiet Shipo, but she threw herself on the ground and screamed hysterically.

  My father was at my side a moment later. His face looked purple in the light from the walls. He shook my arm. “What are you doing here?”

  I trembled in fear, knowing I was going to get caned for following him somewhere I wasn’t allowed to go.

  “Who are these children?” the Tanukijin man demanded. “When I find out who these brats belong to, I’ll publicly punish—”

  My father’s face flushed purple in the strange lighting. “This is my daughter.” His glare stabbed me like daggers. I lowered my gaze to the ground.

  Shipo screamed again.

  “What did you do to her?” Father demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  “She’s of the dragon clad, a Tatsujin,” the stranger said. “She’s been spying on us.”

  “They’re children. They wouldn’t understand if they had heard us.”

  Father lifted Shipo into his arms. She kicked out at him as he carried her toward the entrance. Outside the light was blindingly bright. The heat came crashing down on me all at once. My hand felt like it was on fire. Shipo’s face was bright red as she screamed. Father tried to hold her still to look at her hands. They were covered in red blisters. Her legs and feet were just as bad.

  “Did you touch the moss?” he demanded.

  “No,” I said quickly. I hid my hand. I hadn’t touched the moss. Only Shipo had, but for some reason my hand hurt too.

  Father shook his head. The red paint on his tan chest was smeared from where he’d carried Shipo.

  The other man’s face was hidden under the purple and green furs of his tanuki hat, making his expression unreadable. He crouched over Shipo who lay on the ground screaming. “Memory moss wouldn’t do that,” he said.

  “No, it wouldn’t.” Father gestured to the meadow outside the cave. “But this isn’t memory moss. This is toxic. We need to her off before it drives her mad with pain.”

  He was careful not to touch the moss lining the path as he carried Shipo. I followed behind. The moss only grew outside the cave and soon we came to purple ferns and red-leafed foliage that crowded out the moss.

  A stream trickled past a cluster of trees, and my father waded through the purple ferns to bring Shipo to the water. I tried to follow, but my father shook his head at me. “Stay with Shiromainu Nipa.”

  My hand throbbed. I didn’t want to go mad from pain either. “What about me?” I asked.

  Father set Shipo on a rock in the shallowest section, splashing water over her legs. “You’re fine.”

  “No, I’m not.” I decided the pain in my hand was worse than whatever punishment I was about to be given for being bad. I raised my hand and showed Father’s friend the blisters.

  Shiromainu sighed and shook his head. He lifted me up under the armpits and carried me to my father. “This one has the same injury.”

  Father’s eyes crinkled up in concern as he came closer. “Oh, Sumiko-chan!” He hugged me to him as he carried me the rest of the way into the water.

  I was hot and sweaty, but I felt comfortable in his arms. It felt like forever since he’d hugged me that morning when I’d woke.

  He stroked my hair. “Memory moss isn’t for children. You know that, ne?”

  “You said it wasn’t memory moss,” I said.

  He sighed in exasperation. I had that effect on adults.

  “I didn’t touch it,” I said quickly. “Shipo-chan did, even though I told her not to. Then she touched me.”

  He set me in the water next to Shipo. The shock of the cold took my breath away. It eased the pain in my hand, but the blisters didn’t go away.

  “It hurts,” I complained.

  Father crouched down next to me. “Show me your chiramantep strength.”

  I growled as ferociously as I could.

  “That’s my girl.” He tweaked my nose. “Now, don’t touch your face and don’t rub your hands. You’ll only make it worse.”

  “Do you think Mama will spank me?” I asked.

  He stroked my hair again. “Not if we don’t tell her.” He winked and I giggled.

  Shipo whimpered. I hated for her to steal his attention from me at that moment, but I could see she was still hurting. My father shifted closer to her and spoke softly. Shiromainu shifted from foot to foot in irritation in the foliage, making no attempt to conceal his impatience.

  A loud crack echoed like thunder from the hill. The sky was sunny and blue, but smoke rose from the jungle in the direction of our village. A giant spaceship, like the ones the gaijin arrived in, flew overhead. Arrows made of blue lightning shot out of it and exploded in the trees. Flames danced across one side of the mountain, spreading as the wind blew.

  Shiromainu ran to the path and pointed to the clouds of smoke. “It’s just as you said.”

  “Run!” Father pushed me south in the direction the stream flowed. He jumped out of the stream and onto the dry land. “Hide yourself and your friend.”

  “Wait! Daddy, don’t leave me,” I begged.

  An explosion boomed from the other side of the hill.

  “Do what I told you, Sumiko-chan. Run!” Father looked to me one last time and pointed down the stream.

  Father and his friend ran off toward the village. I never did tell him about the gaijin and what I’d seen. I told myself I would tell him when he came back for me.

  To purchase the next book in the series or to find out when future books will be available, please go to: www.sarinadorie.com

  Afterward

  The ideas in the Memory Thief series were percolating in my head for years before I got around to writing the novel. I have always been fascinated by foreign cultures and was inspired by my freshman science teacher, Mr. Tebor, who served in the Peace Corps. I wasn’t able to study abroad while in high school or college, and I knew I didn’t have any valuable skills to offer the Peace Corps since I graduated with a BFA in illustration, so I pursued the dream to go abroad by teaching English in South Korea and then later in Japan. Because I am originally from the Portland, Oregon area and Sapporo is Portland’s sister city, it was a logical location to apply for a teaching job. Plus, I had a friend already in the JET Program in a city nearby. It felt a little less scary to go to the island of Hokkaido where there was someone I knew. I didn’t know much about Japan, aside from pop culture, but I had heard of Sapporo’s snow festival years before when I had a teacher in college who had participated and gave a presentation on it. I soon learned that while Hokkaido was temperate like Oregon from May to September, the rest of the year it snowed. And snowed.

  And snowed.

  While other gaijin (foreigner) English teachers were out buying manga, partying and singing karaoke, I was going to museums and attending tea ceremonies. (Okay, so I also was going to breakdance classes too, but that is a different story.) I loved learning about the ancient culture and history of Japan and the local people who predated the second wave of Japanese who immigrated to the islands. When I went to the Ainu village in Hokkaido as a tourist, I was fascinated by the idea of indigenous Japanese who were Japan’s version of Native Americans. The plight and cultural extinctio
n of these people inspired and influenced my writing.

  The Jomon people in our world immigrated to Japan 14,000 years ago, though some sources suggest they may have done so as far back as 30,000 years ago. The Jomon became the Ainu of Japan, spread to the Pacific Islands and became the indigenous peoples of North America. Today’s Ainu are known for unusual, non-Asian characteristics such as fair skin, being hairier, having bigger noses or other European characteristics—some even having blue eyes. Archeologic evidence of skeletal and facial characteristics have shown the earliest Americans also had more European characteristics, and more recently, genetic evidence has shown the first Americans may have been more European than Asian.

  Anywhere from 2,000-5,000 years ago, the second wave of immigrants called the Yayoi, spread to Japan and the Americas, slowly assimilating and destroying the first wave of peoples, not so different from what the Europeans did to the Native Americas in my own culture.

  Living in Japan has influenced my writing greatly and I often find I am writing about experiences of feeling like an alien in another culture. The Jomon of The Memory Thief series are a mixture of Jomon and Yayoi, a blend of modern Japanese and Korean cultures with the Ainu of Japan and the Inuit of America.

  If you enjoyed The Memory Thief please leave a review on the online retailer where you purchased this collection. You might also enjoy free short stories published by the author on her website: http://sarinadorie.com/writing/short-stories. Readers can hear updates about current writing projects and news about upcoming novels and free short stories as they become available by signing up for Sarina Dorie’s newsletter at:

  http://eepurl.com/4IUhP

  Other novels written by the author can be found at:

  http://sarinadorie.com/writing/novels

  About the Author

  During her childhood, Sarina Dorie dreamed of becoming an astronaut/archaeologist/fashion designer/illustrator/writer. Later in life, after realizing this might be an unrealistic goal, Sarina went to the Pacific NW College of Art where she earned a degree in illustration. After realizing this might also be an unrealistic goal, she went to Portland State University for a master’s in education to pursue the equally cut-throat career of teaching art in the public school system. After years of dedication to art and writing, most of Sarina’s dreams have come true; in addition to teaching, she is a writer/artist/ fashion designer/ belly dancer. She has shown her art internationally, sold art to Shimmer Magazine for an interior illustration, and another piece is on the April 2011 cover of Bards and Sages.

  Sarina has sold over a hundred short stories to markets like Daily Science Fiction, Fantasy and Science Fiction Magazine, and Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show. Sarina’s novel, Silent Moon, won four contests through various chapter of RWA. It is now published by Soulmate Publishing. Her YA fantasy novel, Dawn of the Morning Star has come out with Wolfsinger Publishing and Urban Changeling is available online.

  Now, if only Jack Sparrow asks her to marry him, all her dreams will come true.

  Information about Sarina Dorie’s fantasy novels Silent Moon, Dawn of the Morningstar, Urban Changeling, and short stories can also be found at:

  http://www.sarinadorie.com