Kojiki: Excerpt Three

Two weeks until Kojiki’s release! Today, I thought I’d switch gears, and give you a glimpse into a different character.  Seirin, (pronounced like siren–as in police siren or siren’s song), Queen of the Oceans, Lady of Water, is one of the book’s Great Spirits. Hers is Kojiki’s most emotional arc.

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Seirin raced through thick clouds and blinding downpours. Cold fury drove her on, the emotion strong enough to affect the Boundary’s temperature. Already, sleet mixed with the rain, the pellets growing, hardening. Several hit the city with the force of falling meteors. Towers crumbled and large craters appeared in the ground only to have the floods swallow them.

Seirin swore at her lack of control and quickly fed warmth back into the clouds. Kirak was below—in the water—and she didn’t want it to fight through ice or worry that it might freeze solid. She had her own conflict ahead; she couldn’t afford the distraction. The sooner she brought Lon- Shan to justice, the sooner this ended. For all of them.

Lon-Shan’s sprawling complex was less than ten miles away. Ten miles from justice, minutes from death. This close, it looked like a gigantic octopus whose dark arms grasped greedily into the city streets. The middle bulged above the rest, covering several blocks like an ugly welt. Aeryk had warned her about it, though he offered few details. Finally, she understood why. No one adequately described a nightmare. It wasn’t possible.

Thinking of Aeryk brought a warm blush to her cheeks. Almost, it seemed he was with her. His breath brought the thermal currents that fueled her storms, his arms the gales embracing her. Maybe, if she inhaled deeply enough, she could draw his presence into her body.

Their time apart had been so long, their reunion too short. She wanted him with her, but she knew he was safer outside. Lon-Shan wormed his way into Aeryk’s Spirit once already. They couldn’t risk it happening again. Fortunately, her emotional walls were stronger than his. Not that she’d ever say so, but her power was too—more damaging. More deadly.

Lon-Shan’s devastated city proved what she could do. Only the Lord remained, and that was temporary. Soon, he’d join the soldiers whose souls he twisted. Their fate was as much his fault as Botua’s had been. He would pay. This would stop. Here! Now!

Already, a new line of storms rolled over the city. Lightning seethed through them, their surfaces roiling like a typhoon-tossed sea. The flashes would weaken him, and the rain, withheld and straining within the boiling clouds, would eat away at his shield like acid.

The Shadow Spirit’s defenses quivered under the onslaught, and Seirin quickly fashioned her shield into a long, thin pike. Angling down, she pierced the darkness with the ease of a needle through fabric. Inside, several buildings spread out before her, wide rectangular slabs clustered into a geometric compound of ebon marble.

The Library dominated the East Wing, and she came down in the same open square as before. She smiled at the tall, severe walls, three of stone, the fourth fronting a window of leaded glass that spanned the entire length. Without a shield to protect them, they were easily breached. She gazed at the stone gargoyles perched menacingly on buttresses and laughed coldly. What good were they? What use? Not even Phasma could stop her; it hadn’t even slowed her. 

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