VAMPIRE HUNTER D 8:

MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY TO THE NORTH SEA PART TWO

© Hideyuki Kikuchi, 1988. Originally published in Japan in 1988 by ASAHI SONORAMA Co. English translation copyright © 2007 by Dark Horse Books and Digital Manga Publishing.

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No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the express written permission of the copyright holders. Names, characters, places, and incidents featured in this publication are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events, institutions, or locales, without satiric intent, is coincidental. Dark Horse Books® and the Dark Horse logo are registered trademarks of Dark Horse Comics, Inc. All rights reserved.

Cover art by Yoshitaka Amano

English translation by Kevin Leahy

Book design by Heidi Fainza

Published by

Dark Horse Books

a division of Dark Horse Comics

10956 SE Main Street

Milwaukie, OR 97222

darkhorse.com

Digital Manga Publishing

1487 West 178th Street, Suite 300

Gardena, CA 90248

dmpbooks.com

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Kikuchi, Hideyuki, 1949-

[Hokkai mako. English]

Mysterious journey to the North sea / written by Hideyuki Kikuchi ; illustrated by Yoshitaka Amano ; English translation by Kevin Leahy.

p. cm. -- (Vampire Hunter D; v. 7)

“Originally published in Japan in 1988 by Asahi Sonoroma Co.”--Vol. 1, t.p. verso.

ISBN-13: 978-1-59582-107-2 (v. 1)

ISBN-10: 1-59582-107-4 (v. 1 )

I. Amano, Yoshitaka. II. Leahy, Kevin. III. Title.

PL832.I37H6513 2007

895.6’36--dc22

2006102529

ISBN-10: 1-59582-108-2

ISBN-13: 978-1-59582-108-9

First Dark Horse Books Edition: August 2007

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Printed in the United States of America

SUMMER AT LAST

CHAPTER 1

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I

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Sand shot up, whipped up by something swinging around at an awful speed. Grains of it scattered in all directions like smoke. There were two massive explosions, and then a second later a human form could be seen on the shore where the black waves broke. It was Gyohki. Standing erect only briefly, he then bent his right knee. Just as he was about to hit the sand, he barely managed to catch himself. A streak of white ran right through his thigh—a needle of unfinished wood.

“You’re unbelievable . . . ,” Gyohki groaned. Dropping his eyes to his gory thigh, he then turned a look of both admiration and hatred toward the beautiful darkness before him. The darkness that harbored D.

D was just getting up, too. His longsword stretched elegantly from his right hand, as he’d just picked it up from where it’d fallen in the sand. It hadn’t actually fallen—he’d intentionally dropped it. Just before Gyohki’s explosive kick, with true split-second timing, he’d let go of his sword. Rather than getting Gyohki to drop off his blade, he’d dropped him along with his longsword. In order for his opponent to execute that lethal kick to its full efficacy, he needed to have perfect speed and power and to be well-balanced, and he’d been thrown off more than enough for D to block the kick aimed at his temple with his right elbow. Before Gyohki could connect with a second kick, D timed it so as to catch his foe’s leg and jam a rough wooden needle deep into his attacker’s thigh with his left hand.

Seeing the gorgeous silhouette leisurely closing in on him, the limping Gyohki leapt back. A second later he was waist-deep in the water.

“‘He who fights and runs away . . .’ It’s a dated adage, but while there’s life there’s still hope. I believe I’ll call it a day,” he said in a tone free from regret. Preparing to dive, Gyohki then suddenly turned his eyes to where D stood at the shore. “You wanted to know who made me, didn’t you? Baron Meinster gave me life, but I was perfected by the other one.”

His body sank straight into the water. Soon splashing could be heard far in the distance, but that was the end of it. He must’ve swum out into the sea at a depth of seven thousand feet.

Perhaps certain that his foe was gone for good, D returned his longsword to its sheath and walked over toward Su-In. The circle of light from the illumination cord made her location clear in this murk—she was a bit further in than where he’d left her. Though he’d told her to stay there, it would’ve been hard to imagine a courageous character like Su-In just standing there awaiting her fate. Still, it was strange. If she were to go anywhere else, she most certainly should’ve gone to check on D, on whom her life depended. But she seemed to have done exactly the reverse and gone in the opposite direction.

D’s pace quickened.

Su-In was standing in front of a huge tank they hadn’t seen before. Unlike the others, this one was filled with a milky fluid, and it had but a single occupant: a young man who was completely naked. Black and blue marks could be seen on the side that faced her. At a glance it was apparent these weren’t wounds that’d been intentionally inflicted on him, but rather had come about through some sudden event. The left side of his forehead was smashed open horribly, leaving a gaping wound you could see through if you looked hard enough. It was almost miraculous that his face had been so perfectly preserved, appearing just as youthful now as it had in life. His left shoulder was also twisted into a strange position—probably the result of a broken bone. No doubt these wounds were all the result of a fall from a considerable height. Judging by his face, he was a young villager. But who would’ve sealed up his remains more than a thousand years ago?

Not seeming to realize that D was watching her, Su-In kept her gaze trained on the pale, hazy figure. Before long, she muttered, “You fell, didn’t you.” The way she said the words, they seemed to simply spring into being without ever passing through her thought processes. “You fell—fell at the cape . . . stabbed . . . through the chest . . .”

D looked at the young man’s chest. There was no wound there.

Su-In had been talking about someone else.

“Let’s go home,” D told her.

They had more than enough time until her grandfather’s funeral. But considering the way they’d come down, the thought of going back up made a casual term like “trip” seem horribly inadequate. Su-In’s body trembled. But before she even had time to think about it, her flesh broke free of her will and she leaned back in D’s arms.

Quickly taking the illumination cord, D looked at Su-In’s blanched countenance, and then shifted his eyes to the contents of the tank. A corpse floating in a milky liquid and a fisherman’s daughter—perhaps the young man’s cold eyes could see the thread that joined these two very different lives. But that thread was soon frayed by a tiny groan.

Opening her eyes in the Hunter’s powerful arms, Su-In realized the situation she was in and hurriedly tried to stand up. The hue in her eyes as she turned them away from D was ultimately conveyed by the pink that tinged her full cheeks.

“Trying to take advantage of me in a place like this—you should be ashamed!” she said, pushing D’s hands away with much more force than was necessary. When she got to her feet again, she was already as steady as a rock. “If we’re leaving, what are you gonna do about this place?” she asked as she looked around them. “This was Meinster’s research lab, right? If you plan on trashing it, I’ll help.”

“There are probably traps.”

“You’ve got a point there,” the woman conceded.

“It’s going to take a while to climb back out. Shall we go?”

“Are you sure it’ll be okay?” Su-In asked nervously as she looked up into the darkness above.

Twenty minutes later, as the two of them were leaving the ruins of Meinster’s castle, Su-In’s gaze had become one of admiration as she stared at D.

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After another hour, the pair was greeted by an unexpected sight as they returned home: more than twenty children. As was usual on the Frontier, their height and age, hair color and skin color ran the gamut, but when they saw Su-In and raced over to her, all of their faces glowed with the same expectation. Amid the cries of “Su-In! Su-In!” were some of “teacher,” and this prompted D to stare at the sunburnt woman.

“Teacher—when is it?”

“When’s school starting?”

Seeming perplexed by the youthful cries, Su-In knit her brow. “That’s a good question. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can do it this year.”

Disappointment broke over the children like a wave.

“You see, my grandfather just died, and Wu-Lin’s not around either,” Su-In said, desperately trying to keep the gloom from her voice.

As the children continued to protest, the shouts of a man and woman who were obviously somebody’s parents flew from the main house, saying, “Come on, now! What are you doing pestering Su-In at an awful time like this?” and, “We’ve got a funeral today!”

Before these rebukes, the children scattered like baby spiders.

Turning to face D, Su-In asked, “You think that’s funny?” There was a bit of a challenge to her voice. Not receiving an answer, she continued, “During the summer, I run a school when I’m not out fishing. The kids around here want to know anything and everything. After all, at their age they’ve never seen anything but the gray sea and our week-long summer.”

“Where’s the schoolhouse?” asked the Hunter.

“Well, up until last year, we just pitched a tent in our backyard. But this year, they’re gonna build a proper schoolhouse. As we rode along the coast, you saw the festival tower, right? It’s right next to that. Once that’s done, we’ll be able to have school even in winter, and we’ve sent to the Capital for a teacher. The carpenters are working overtime to get it ready by the first day of summer. Looks like they’re just gonna make it.”

“And is the teacher coming?”

Shifting her eyes to the sea, Su-In replied, “Actually, Wu-Lin was supposed to talk to someone in Cronenberg about that.”

Off in the distance, they could hear a child shouting, “Teacher!”

Saying that she had to go get ready, Su-In adjusted her grip on the spear gun and walked off toward the house.

After going in first, D watched the people busily scurrying around the house. “Is this everyone?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Ignoring the gazes of admiration and rapture that fell on him, D went back outside. He told Su-In, who stood by the door, “There’s no one dangerous in there.”

Lowering her voice, his employer said, “Of course not. They’re all folks from the neighborhood. I’m begging you, don’t start talking flaky.”

“The puppets on the ferry could probably just as easily be disguised as your neighbors.”

Tensing at D’s words, Su-In said, “I know. We can’t let our guard down, right?”

“You should help get ready for the funeral.”

“I’m gonna do just that. I leave the rest up to you.” With a trusting glance to that inhumanly handsome face, Su-In then went inside.

D circled around to the backyard. The grandfather’s remains were going to be buried in one corner—Su-In had stated that would’ve made her grandfather a lot happier than being interred in the communal cemetery.

Out in the gauzy light of day, suddenly a thin melody and voices joined in song were heard from the verandah out back. The children from earlier were all gathered around a boy of about ten, who was playing a wooden flute.

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To you, whom summer brought here,

I give a modest token of thanks.

The white flowers that blossom in the ice freeze all who touch them.

Until the waltz of summer ends,

You are one of us.

And when you go we’ll pray for you,

O departing light of summer!

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D stood in the languid daylight listening to the earnest, if somewhat off-key, voices of the singers. The shadow cast at his feet was beautiful, but fainter than anyone else’s. Off in the distance, the crash of waves could be heard.

And just as it had begun, the singing halted without warning. The boy in the center of the group fiddled with the flute, a troubled look on his face. Putting it to his lips, he inflated his cheeks, but to no effect. Apparently either it was clogged or had a leak of some sort. All around him, the other children asked what was wrong and why it wouldn’t play. They were all heartbroken—they’d been sincerely interested in singing. If they hadn’t, they’d have long since gone and found something else to amuse themselves.

Their flutist looked ready to cry. His eyes scanned the surrounding area in search of help, coming to rest on the handsome figure. There was no telling just how he could’ve looked to a ten-year-old psyche. Pushing his way through the children packed around him, the boy ran over to D. Stopping three feet shy of the Hunter, he had both fear and expectation on his face as he looked up reverently.

Not saying a word, D looked down at the innocent face of the dark boy who didn’t come up too far past his own waist. The young man’s body sank slowly. Down to the same height as the boy.

“What’s wrong?” the Vampire Hunter asked.

A tiny hand and the wooden flute it held were thrust out before his eyes.

Powerful yet slender fingers closed on the piece of wood as the Hunter took it from the boy. There were three finger holes, but a threadlike crack ran between the last two. Even patching it wouldn’t be enough to get back the original tone of the instrument.

Looking around on the ground at his feet, D then quickly pulled a few wooden needles from the inside of his coat—two of them. Though they were less than an eighth of an inch thick, they were over eight inches long. The thumb of the hand that held the needle reached up for the end of it, and a well-shaped nail protruded ever so slightly from the end of the Hunter’s finger. That nail moved in a tiny arc, and two inches of the needle fell to the ground, leaving a perfectly round cut on the end.

The boy’s eyes went as wide as if he’d just watched a magic trick.

Adjusting his grip on the needle and taking off the opposite end as well, D then took the other needle and placed its point against one of the round cross-sections. Though he didn’t seem to put any force behind it, the new needle slipped into the former needle without any resistance.

There were sounds of surprise all around him. At some point, the children from the verandah had crowded around the Hunter and the boy.

As far as the children could see, the two needles were of equal thickness. And yet the one that’d been pierced hadn’t split or broken, and the one doing the piercing slid into the other without hesitation and came out the other side. As the tip came out the other end to the exact same length as the part he’d first sliced off, D pulled the two pieces of wood apart. Then he brought his right hand over to the needle he held in his left. The children caught the glint of a long, thin dagger there, which bore three finger holes with the blade in less than two seconds. Each hole was perfectly round.

Blowing into it once to get the sawdust out of it, D then put the flute to his lips. His cheeks indented ever so slightly, and a thin, mellifluous sound coursed from the instrument.

The multitude of tiny faces changed from looks of amazement to smiles.

Handing the new flute to the boy before him without a word, D stood back up. His eyes shifted to the verandah.

A holy man stood there. Ban’gyoh. Beaming all the while, he tapped at his freshly shaven head as he walked over. Clasping both hands behind his back, he said, “I declare, when a priest isn’t reading his prayers, he’s got nothing but time on his hands. I’ve been playing with the children since this morning. And what have you been doing? From what I saw earlier from the kitchen window, it seems you and Ms. Su-In came back on a boat . . . but you should take care. When a man and a woman recklessly let nature take its course, therein lies the way to lust and temptation.”

Muttering a religious incantation in a pleasing tone, Ban’gyoh gazed at D reproachfully. But his heavily wrinkled face broke into a smile as he said, “Though from what it’s been my pleasure to see, you have some fine points, too. Usually one as handsome as yourself is cold not only to women, but to everyone aside from himself. Though your veins may be ice, the blood flowing through them seems to have become a bit redder. I have a suggestion for you. Now, I don’t know if you’re a bodyguard or a warrior or what, but why not abandon the way of the sword for good and look after the children here?” The holy man then laughed, “Oh, I’m just joking with you!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a lovely melody arose from around his feet. The boy had just blown into the flute. Though Ban’gyoh listened to it with his eyes shut, he soon gave a pensive nod. “I hate to say it, but the tone isn’t very even,” the priest mused. “Child, try playing this.”

The young boy seemed perplexed by what the holy man then held under his nose. It was another wooden flute with tiny holes. Roughly two inches shorter than the one D had fashioned, it was also ten times as thick.

“No matter how skillfully constructed the flute may be, there are certain limitations in the instrument itself,” said Ban’gyoh. “That one’s a bit too tough for a child’s throat and lungs. Come now, give it a try.”

The child was very forthcoming. Pressing D’s flute back against the Hunter’s chest, he promptly took the new handiwork from Ban’gyoh and brought it to his mouth. The sound that filled the air was deeper and more composed than that from D’s.

Ban’gyoh laughed proudly—behavior that hardly seemed fitting for a holy man.

Saying nothing, D stared at the flute in his hand, and then gazed at the one the boy had taken and the face of the holy man.

“Hmm. This simply won’t do, sir,” Ban’gyoh said, backing away with one hand raised. “It’s not good to work so hard to cover for one’s shortcomings with mere forcefulness. A good-looking man is not the be-all and end-all, you see. Here’s a proposition for you—if you want children to favor you over some foolish old priest, you should hang up your sword and live here in their village for the next five years. I bet you’d make the finest mayor they’ve ever seen!”

Chuckling to himself, Ban’gyoh then walked back to the house. The children had retreated to the verandah.

Only D and the flute were left out in the stark light.

“For some reason or other, that priest’s got it in for you,” a hoarse voice grumbled from around his left hand as it hung by his side. “But for such an odd duck, he sure says some interesting things. So, how about it? Why don’t you settle down here and become head fisherman or something? I’m sure you could get some animal protein out of that huge whale,” the voice chortled. After a short pause, he added, “Hey, aren’t you gonna tell me to shut up?”

D looked down at his left hand. The oddest expression lingered around his lips. “Head fisherman, eh? That might not be too bad,” said the Hunter.

“Wait just a second,” shot back a voice tinged with distress. “You wouldn’t really . . .” The palm of the left hand was upturned, looking up at D. But soon, the voice let out a sigh—one of relief. “That’s a load off my mind. I wouldn’t care if you quit here. But wherever you go always ends up being the valley of the shadow of death. You’ll keep traveling.”

D said nothing.

As if to cut through the roar of the sea, the sound of a child’s flute rang out.

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II

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It was early in the afternoon that the neighbors began to head home. As Su-In stood by the door thanking them, D watched her from the garden. The conversations of a number of the returning guests reached his ears. Dhampirs were said to have hearing three times as good as humans at night and twice as good by day, but apparently this young man’s abilities far surpassed even those estimates.

Su-In’s gonna be in for a rough time of it.

I wonder what the story is with Wu-Lin?

I hear she went to town, but what awful timing! She’d best hurry back, or Su-In’s gonna have a hard time bearing up.

Yeah, they counted on their grandfather an awful lot. He might’ve had a bum leg, but he sure could do the hypnotism.

You can say that again. When my boy got attacked by a man-eating shark and the shock of it left him bedridden, you wouldn’t believe my surprise when he made that child forget all about it in just five minutes.

Su-In’s got some pretty mean tricks herself, although there’s nothing to use them on out on the open sea.

That’s okay. She does all right for herself. And it’s downright scary how she throws a harpoon.

You know, I kinda get the feeling Wu-Lin’s not coming back.

The other neighbor said nothing.

I wonder if Su-In hasn’t really been left alone after all. My sister was like that when her husband and son went down with their ship. It was exactly the same. Not the tone of her voice or the look in her eye, but the whole atmosphere around her.

“What are you looking so down in the mouth about?” asked a cheery voice that was drawing closer.

As her grandfather’s coffin was buried, Su-In hadn’t showed any sign of being ready to burst into tears. The last shovelful of earth had covered him an hour ago. She’d had more than enough time to think about how she was going to make ends meet from tomorrow on.

“Your work should be done here until evening. I’m heading out to sea,” Su-In said, gazing toward the surf with a faraway look in her eyes. The stern expression she wore was the same one she’d had that morning as she was washing her boat.

“You’re going out now?”

“Summer’s almost here,” she replied. “I’ve got to make some money while I can.”

“I’ll go, too.”

Turning a look of surprise toward his gorgeous face, Su-In said, “But you can’t even . . .”

It was common knowledge that those descending from Noble blood would avoid running water. There were villages on the Frontier where the hundreds of houses were all surrounded by individual ditches. While it was understood at present that in order for such ditches to be effective they had to be wide and deep enough to drown an ordinary person, there was still no shortage of people who wasted their energy digging them around their house and waiting for rainy days. Out on the sea, the width and depth conditions would be more than met. However, for a dhampir like D—

“I won’t have you taking any chances. I don’t care how tough my enemies are, they’d never go after me out on the sea.”

“One of them rode off into the sky on a cloud,” D reminded her.

“Yeah, but . . .”

“I won’t get in your way.”

Locking her lips together tightly, Su-In glared at D and snorted out her nose. “Okay. But only if you stay to one side and don’t do anything.”

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The wind at sea sliced at their cheeks. As they weathered gales that made it seem inconceivable that summer would arrive in two short days, Su-In’s powerboat skipped nimbly across the waves. The sea ahead of them was divided into three distinct sections. Off to the left, a distant fleet of large motorboats gingerly moved in formation. They were catching migratory fish in the black nets that dangled in the water from the stern of the lead vessel. Directly ahead of them and a few miles away, a gigantic form was surrounded by a pack of small powerboats manned by skilled harpooners—and the focus of their massed assault must’ve been a tidal whale. The surface of the water was tinged with a light pink.

The prow turned to starboard.

“We’re cutting in, so it could get a little rough. Be careful you don’t fall overboard,” Su-In said, her voice full of excitement.

Far ahead of the boat’s prow floated a belt of white—a row of ice chunks. As the small boat moved ahead of them, it maneuvered more nimbly than any of the other vessels.

“Giant killer whales are drawn by the whale’s blood. Besides the meat on them, their teeth, bones, and innards are all valuable—of course, they might come at the price of your life. Hey, don’t tell me you wanna leave already,” she joked. Su-In had a lot of pluck—a harsh environment like this wouldn’t necessarily suit everyone. There were some women in Florence who would live their whole lives without ever going out to sea, but you could say Su-In was a fierce exception to the rule. This twenty-year-old woman had chosen the most rigorous of battlefields.

The boat rocked, and vermilion stained the water. The battle that’d already been joined was reaching its peak. The water was rough in this part of the sea, where almost a dozen power boats were moving around. The heads and tails of plump game fish came in and out of view as they streaked through the water and slammed against the ships’ weak hulls.

“Watch yourself. These bastards can jump over fifteen feet.”

Cutting the boat’s engine as the vessel rocked from the waves striking it broadside, Su-In released a latch on the deck, scooped up five harpoons, and brought them to the starboard gunwale. Tipped with steel, each of the missiles was seven feet long and weighed over ten pounds. It must’ve been difficult just to hold onto them on the rocking boat. The rough trousers that covered Su-In from the waist down were so taut there wasn’t a single wrinkle in them.

After setting four of the harpoons down, Su-In stood ready with the fifth. Hauling back with all her might with her right arm, she used her left hand to support the tip and take aim.

Someone somewhere shouted out her name, the cry echoing on for ages.

A black shape was approaching on the water’s surface—a number of harpoons jutted from its top half. When the short, thick head closed to within six or seven feet of Su-In, her upper body leaned back. The shirt she was stuffed into bulged clearly with the shape of her biceps and the muscles on her back. Bracing herself absolutely perfectly, Su-In let the harpoon fly.

The steely missile lanced into the sea with such force you’d swear you could hear it sink into flesh, and an instant later the black shape that was approaching twisted wildly. Submerging its impaled head in the sea, it thrashed the water violently with its tail and dorsal fin. Ignoring the massive creature entering its death throes, Su-In got ready with a second harpoon.

“Not too bad, eh?” she called back over her shoulder to D as she shook her head.

The waves kissed her with spray.

“The crease where the head meets the torso is where you make the kill shot. Even most men can’t hit it. Here comes another!”

Su-In’s scream and the way she collapsed made it clear that her last remark hadn’t been directed at the same beast that rammed them a second later. The woman barely managed to pull back her left arm—which dangled out over the gunwale—and use it to prop herself up as a massive black form made a vertical leap just in front of her.

It was certainly huge. And it just kept stretching longer and longer. The glistening wet belly that faced her was the only white thing on it. The tail was forked, and the body must’ve measured ten feet long and weighed at least sixteen hundred pounds. There was a malicious glint in the tiny eyes to either side of its compact head, and then a long, straight gash opened. Its mouth. It was the color of flames. In midair, the massive creature twisted into an inverted V shape. The turn had been intentional—it was coming back down headfirst.

Su-In was right under it—there wasn’t enough time for her to change her position. And yet she managed to look up. Colored by fear and hopelessness, her eyes then reflected a streak of silver that slashed through the mouth ready to close down on her body. A powerful tug on her collar hauled her out of the way as the massive form crashed down right in front of her, rocking the hull of the boat.

Realizing as she clung to the Hunter’s powerful chest that the giant killer whale’s head had been severed from its torso precisely along the line she’d described, Su-In got goose bumps. At the core of her being, she ached with a spark that was both feverishly hot and icy cold. On the deck a short distance from her, a sound like steel on steel rose from the head of a beast so thick she’d be lucky to get her arms around it. It was the sound of jagged teeth gnashing. She thought that must be the reason she felt the way she did.

“I suppose I acted out of place,” D said, although he didn’t sound all that apologetic.

“No,” Su-In said, shaking her head from side to side. It surprised her that she could even say that much.

“Will one be enough?” D asked. His tone was so calm that she had to wonder where he stored all of his composure.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll keep taking them till they’re all gone.” A certain will that even she herself didn’t understand had been ignited, and Su-In pulled away from D.

“Hey there!” shouted a familiar voice that cut through the heavy seas.

While it was understandable that Su-In turned, the fact that D followed her example was highly unusual.

On the prow of the powerboat that ran in parallel to them about forty feet off their port bow, Dwight stood ready with a harpoon in one hand. “Imagine meeting you out here, stud,” he called out. “I couldn’t have asked for a better setting. I say we finish our duel from yesterday.”

Turning to D, Su-In said, “What’s he talking about?” She hadn’t been informed of the altercation between him and Dwight.

“I owe him,” D replied.

Puzzled, Su-In shifted her gaze back and forth between the two men.

“Like I told you before, I’m a fisherman. And out here on the sea, we’ll do things my way. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” Dwight said, his right hand around a gleaming harpoon that was longer than Su-In’s, and almost twice as thick.

From the bridge of the other boat, a young man who probably worked for Dwight was comparing him to D.

D nodded ever so slightly.

“Good enough. We’ll each get one throw now. Whoever lands the bigger prize wins. So, give it your best shot,” Dwight said, breaking into a grin. “Now, if you lose—well, then you hightail it out of Su-In’s house. How does that strike you?”

In lieu of a reply, D took the harpoon from Su-In’s hand.

“Hey, wait just a minute! Don’t do anything stupid,” Su-In angrily shouted at Dwight as she tried to wrest the harpoon from the Hunter. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but this guy’s working for me and I can’t have you doing anything to him.”

“This doesn’t concern you. It’s between him and me—man to man. Stay out of it.”

“You big idiot!” the woman shouted indignantly, ready to give him a piece of her mind. But just then there was a terrible impact on the side of the boat. Without time to leave them with a scream, Su-In toppled over into the water like a log.

“Uh-oh, that’s not good!” Dwight shouted, his comment relating to the black shape closing on the woman from behind. Distress rising in his face, his great tree root of a right arm hauled back his harpoon, and then whirled in an arc as he grunted.

Searing through the air, the missile’s aim was unerring. Stabbing into the behemoth through its vital point at a thirty-degree angle, the tip came out by the jaw. A geyser of fresh blood shot from the creature’s neck as it twisted its body and sank into the sea.

Quickly grabbing a second harpoon, Dwight managed to wring out the words, “How do you like that, hotshot? You might be able to knock me out, but up against one of these monsters you’re not good for—”

And then he stopped. He’d just noticed that Su-In’s harpoon had vanished from D’s right hand. Su-In was clinging to the muscular arm the Hunter had over the side. Behind her, a black mass bobbed to the surface. The harpoon stuck through its neck was clearly Dwight’s—a very satisfying hit.

“You blew it, stud,” he sneered with one hand to his mouth. “See, Su-In. There’s more to a seafaring man than just looks. You need skill on the waves. And I—”

The fisherman’s voice died out again. Beside the beast he’d taken, another shape bobbed to the surface. Dwight’s eyes went wide—it was a pair of giant killer whales! Seeing that the harpoon that joined them at the neck was one of Su-In’s, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Even when the strongest of brutes threw a harpoon with all his might, one of these beasts was the most he could ever hope to pierce. The rest would be a matter of accuracy. How skilled could this man be to have not only nailed two at once, but to have taken them both through the vital spot?

An attack by a new foe rocked Dwight’s boat wildly. As the fisherman’s hands hit the deck he looked at D, who’d replaced Su-In at the helm. Staring at the Hunter’s handsome profile as he made a run for shore, something dangerously close to a smile spread across Dwight’s face little by little.

Just then, the young man at the wheel of his boat screamed, “Wh-what the hell is this?!”

“What is it?” Dwight asked as he turned around.

A trembling hand pointed to the surface of the sea.

“Huh?!” the fearless roughneck exclaimed, but it came as no surprise that his body stiffened with shock when he looked in that direction. There was no problem with the three beasts he and the Hunter had slain, but now black lumps were bobbing to the surface in a bloody swirl with such force it pushed the trio of carcasses away. The other boats might’ve taken notice of this, as some of them had surrounded the swirl as well.

“What the hell is it?”

“Is that meat?!” someone cried out.

At the very same time, Dwight had also realized that’s what it was. “It’s meat,” he said. “Killer whale meat. Someone’s down there ripping one to pieces. Chopping up a damned giant killer whale!”

Oblivious to the cries of the fishermen, chunks of meat continued rising to the surface, but before long that came to an end. Even after the men saw that the bobbing pieces that filled their field of view had edges so clean they looked like they’d been sliced with a knife, not one of them was willing to point that fact out to the others. In the hearts of these men who lived and died on the seas, a certain legend from the past reverberated darkly. They knew perfectly well that legend was tied to their future.

.

III

.

Just as the western horizon bloomed with the color of fresh blood, a woman climbed out of bed in the town’s sole inn. The time she’d spent there and the way she’d spent it remained on her naked skin as a pale, rosy glow that took her seductive beauty to a new level of temptation. It was “Samon of Remembrances.”

“Going?” a thick, drowsy voice inquired from right beside her. The body lying back under the sheets contrasted starkly with Samon’s own in terms of color and burliness. Like Samon, he was mentally and physically relaxed, but if the need arose his right hand would shoot like lightning for the sword that rested by his pillow.

“You don’t have any further need for me, do you?” Samon replied, her answer coming as she put on her underthings. “I’ve already told you everything I know. And I let you have whatever you wanted in bed, too. Don’t embarrass me any further.”

“That’s funny,” he said, his hand shooting up suddenly to grab the woman’s hair and yank back on it mercilessly.

Leaving a cry of surprise hanging in the air as she fell on her back, the woman found her face covered by another that was graceful and good-looking. Groans and sighs were exchanged, and then a second later Glen pulled away like he’d been shot from a gun. A thin stream of blood dribbled from his somewhat thick lips, causing vermilion flowers to blossom on the white sheets. Not even bothering to wipe at the part that’d been bitten open, Glen licked the blood from his own lips.

In the meantime, Samon had climbed off the bed.

“You do the damnedest things, don’t you? That’s the first time a woman’s ever wounded me. And my own woman, at that,” the warrior said, not sounding at all angry.

Samon replied dryly, “I’m not your woman. And I never will be, no matter how many times you may bed me.”

“Then what’s the story here?”

“I owe you. And until I pay you back, you can have your way.”

“Oh, and when do you intend to pay me back?” asked the warrior.

“When I feel like it.”

“And how will you pay me back?”

“I’ll be the one to decide that, as well,” Samon replied. Having finished dressing, she headed for the door.

“Let me just make one thing clear,” Glen said as he sat up in bed. Serene as his tone was, it still had enough force to stop Samon in her tracks. “You and your compatriots are free to team up and take him on if you like, but only after I’m through with him. I’ll be the one to cut him down. And then you and your friends can take what you want. Otherwise . . .”

“Otherwise what?” Samon said, her eyes glittering. They shone with obvious hostility.

“I’ll kill the lot of you before I take him. Even you.”

“Even me?” said Samon, her lips curling in a faint smile. “And would you mind if I told my colleagues this?”

“Do what you like. I wouldn’t mind fighting the Hunter at my leisure after shooing all the bothersome flies, either.”

Samon opened the door. “Do you have anything else to say?” she asked.

“When you and your gang decide to take action against him, come to me first.”

It was an extremely odd request, but Samon nodded. And then, as if deriding him, she said, “Why don’t you just challenge him first?”

“I don’t feel like doing that yet.”

“Oh, scared, are you?” Samon laughed.

“Is that what you think?” Glen replied, his voice low.

“No. So far as I can see, you’re a man without fear. Take care that it doesn’t cost you your life.”

“Is that supposed to be a warning? You can bring all your friends here if you like,” Glen said, his powerful voice rebounding off the back of the now-closed door.

.

Leaving the inn, Samon headed for the entrance to the village. The stars twinkled above her—the night sky was crystal clear. Only her warrior training kept the breath she exhaled from coming out in a white cloud. When she came to the protective palisade, Samon stopped in her tracks. Casting her tempting gaze above her, she said, “Come on out!”

A colossal tree stood by the side of the road, and one of its massive branches hung right over her head. It didn’t have a single leaf on it, but a giant cocoon hung above her. Out popped a head. Then the left hand reached smoothly from the casing. No right hand appeared. “Noticed me, did you?” the inverted “Indiscernible Twin” said to her.

“My, but aren’t you spry. Egbert’s still moaning from his injuries,” said Samon. Like her gaze, her voice was an ice-cold needle.

“He got it in the chest, me in the hand—if I had to say which of us was worse off, it’d have to be him. It always pays to learn to disconnect your nerves as early as possible.”

“You’ve been following me, haven’t you?”

“Yep,” Twin confessed easily. In the starlight, Samon’s eyes could clearly make out the slender, boyish face. “I was curious what you were up to. You were going out a lot.”

“Orders from Shin, I suppose?”

“My own personal interest, actually,” Twin said, cackling like a bird. “This is the first time we’ve seen each other’s faces, but you’re quite a fine-looking woman. It’s a pity it’s night, but then I suppose that suits us more, don’t you think?”

“What do you want with me?”

“The guy in that room you were in—he’s some sort of drifting warrior, isn’t he? What’s his connection to you?”

“I don’t think I have to tell you that,” said Samon.

“At the moment, you’re one of our partners in crime. And we can’t afford to have even one two-timer in the bunch.”

Samon was silent, but her eyes bored right through the inverted figure.

Perhaps noticing as much, Twin cautioned her, “Don’t try anything funny. Yesterday, we let everyone in on our secret plans. Since we’ve got so many injured, we decided not to attack for two or three days and rest up instead.” His friendly tone died out there. “You wouldn’t seriously . . . ,” he began to say, but his sharp attitude only lasted a second.

Right before his eyes, what looked to be a female form had begun to take shape—upside down, just was he was. As tension and bliss vied for a place on Twin’s face, the expression that surfaced there was difficult to describe.

“The thought of me letting you in on my plans when you could never discover them even if you tried,” she laughed haughtily. “From the very start I always intended to do this on my own. Anyone who gets in my way gets sent to the next life. The Vampire Hunter, the woman, or the rest of you.”

As she said this, Samon slid her right hand into her skirt pocket. The woman before Twin’s eyes put her right hand into her long skirt. As proof that the latter was a hallucination, her skirt didn’t fly up in accordance with gravity, but stayed just as it would’ve been if she’d been standing upright. When Samon’s right hand appeared again, there was a cold glint from it. A knife gleamed in the phantom woman’s hand, too. It couldn’t possibly be real. It was an illusion. However, it looked so solid that once it plunged into its target, blood that was all too real would surely gush from the wound. A heartbeat later, the blade that was about to bring death to Twin whipped around suddenly, slashing diagonally through the air. With a hard clink! a small stone then fell to the ground at Samon’s feet.

“Hold it right there,” said a hoarse voice from the other side of the gate.

“Shin—don’t tell me you’re a skirt-chaser, too?” Samon said, looking over her shoulder.

On the other side of the fence, a human figure as thin as a crane drifted out of the weighty darkness.

Inside, the warrior woman was terribly shaken. She believed she’d been amply careful to prevent being followed, yet two people had tailed her. The only reason she’d noticed Twin was because he’d let his guard down after achieving his aim of finding out where she always went.

“Who was that guy, anyway?”

“Were you looking in on us?” Samon asked. Her tone was hard. The pair hadn’t set foot outside the room.

“I see, I hear, I smell, I touch. My eyes are everywhere, and my hands are numberless. I might be the breeze blowing under the door or the moonlight shining in through the window.”

“So, what do you intend you do? I suppose you have some problem with this?”

“No. He can go ahead and do what he likes.”

Samon knit her brow. She was having difficulty understanding what the interim leader was trying to say.

“It shouldn’t come as any great surprise,” Shin continued. “Tell him what we’re going to do and make it as easy as you can for him. I don’t suppose I have to tell you why.”

“You mean we’ll simply let him do our job?”

“That’s right,” he said, his voice echoing far and wide in the deep night. “I tangled with him on the ferry on the way over, and he should prove the perfect opponent for a certain Vampire Hunter. All he needs is a fighting chance, and he’s sure to kill the Hunter.” Laughing, Shin added, “And we’re going to take it upon ourselves to make just such a chance for him.”

Samon shook her head in disgust. “He won’t like that. If he’s going to do it, he’ll do it alone—that’s the sort of man he is.”

“Is that what you love about him?” Shin inquired in a lewd tone. “If he’s loath to accept any aid, we’ll just see to it he doesn’t know he’s gotten any. Samon, you’re to give him our information and keep us posted on his movements.”

“Do you seriously think I could do such a thing?”

“Well, I really don’t know. That’s up to you—or up to him, actually. Glen was the name, wasn’t it? You’re a prisoner of his manly charms.”

Whizzing through the air with blistering speed, a flash of silver linked Samon’s hand to the figure.

A cry of pain rang out.

Quickly looking up at the branch above her to confirm that Twin remained under her spell, Samon then dashed toward the fence. Gathering her skirt slightly, she kicked off the ground. She easily cleared the ten-foot-high palisade, and as she came back down to earth a black figure lay on the ground just in front of her.

“Not as tough as you make yourself out to be,” Samon laughed. But on taking a closer look, she froze. The figure she was so certain had been actual-size had become a wooden doll less than eight inches tall with a knife sticking out of it.

“You can’t see me. And since you can’t, your powers won’t work on me,” said Shin. His voice rang out from behind her—although it actually sounded more like he was whispering right into her ear. “It’s not a bad deal. Whether you love him or hate him, the results are likely to prove equally satisfying. Or would you prefer to die as a traitor? If it comes to that, we’ll kill him, too.”

Unmoving, Samon seemed to have become part of the night. Shortly thereafter, when Twin had returned from the dreamy world of nostalgia and raced over still sleepy-eyed, a low and unsettling laugh slipped from the warrior woman. “Intriguing,” Samon chuckled. “It’s none of your business how I feel about him. But I’ll tell you what I’d like to see—those two gorgeous men soaked in each other’s blood.”

.

Elsewhere, around the same time, the voice of the waves echoed around a tiny house overlooking the sea. As if listening to its every word, the gorgeous figure in the yard was motionless, becoming one with the darkness.

The door to the main house opened and lamplight danced on the verandah out back. Holding a long, thin bottle and two glasses in one hand, Su-In called out D’s name. She wore an insulated half-coat of dark blue—it was the kind where the inner lining could be filled with hot water to keep it warm. If the lining was made of northern cod intestines, it would hold the heat all day long, but such coats tore quite easily and weren’t really suited to rough work.

“Patrolling at this hour?” the woman asked. “Say, you care for a drink? I know it’s chilly out, but I can fire up the stove, and the stars are so beautiful.”

D climbed up onto the verandah. He might have intended to go to sleep, as his longsword hung from his left hand. He still had his coat on, which was thoroughly in keeping with his character.

Setting the bottle and glasses down on the round top of a little wooden table, Su-In settled back in a chair that was also crafted of wood. With one hand she switched on the oil heater by her feet. She held out a glass filled two-thirds with burgundy-colored liquid, and D accepted it. Not taking a chair, he leaned back against the railing instead.

“I’ve heard dhampirs don’t drink, but I appreciate you humoring me. All you have to do is hold it. Just to set the mood,” Su-In said.

Swallowing a mouthful, she turned her attention to D’s longsword. The glass was in his left hand. His longsword was leaning against the railing.

“Always keep your right hand free—isn’t that the warrior way? That’s the way all the ones who came through the village were. That’s a strange sword, though.”

D didn’t reply.

Not seeming to mind, Su-In continued, “I’ve never seen a blade curved like that before. Where was it made? You sure travel around, don’t you? All alone . . .”

Her glass rose again, and her throat bobbed.

Suddenly letting his eyes drop from her drink, D said, “There’s work again tomorrow.”

Eyes going wide, Su-In set her glass down and exhaled violently. “Don’t startle me like that,” she exclaimed. “Why, the very thought of you caring about anyone else. Okay, even if you do worry about me, don’t ever say it out loud. It’ll ruin your image. Or could it be you’re worried my getting drunk will make your job tougher?”

“That’s right.”

Su-In shut her eyes. Pulling the front of her fur-trimmed coat shut, she said, “The harsh truth. It really hits hard tonight, that’s for sure. But I understand how it is. I can’t get too dependent on you. After all, someday you’ll be gone.”

Her eyes turned upward, catching D. He was staring out toward the garden. Maybe he was watching the stars.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry,” the woman told him. “Grampa’s not gonna come back as some sort of monster. There’re two more graves beside his, right? My mother’s and father’s. I’m sure they’re all swapping jokes in the hereafter.”

There was no reply from the Hunter.

Su-In continued gulping down the contents of her glass. “My mother and father died at sea,” she said. “Got rammed by a monster of a giant killer whale before they could finish it off. Their bodies never came back up. So those graves are just markers. I bet Grampa can’t even talk to them. But it’s still better than Wu-Lin. Poor girl . . . I can’t even make a grave for her,” Su-In said, something gleaming in her eye.

It was something she personally had decided after talking to D. Everything would come out after those who sought the bead had been dealt with and the secrets of the bead had been solved—it would avoid causing any more complications. But Wu-Lin’s funeral would have to wait until then.

Su-In gazed at D, a fierce light in her eyes. “You’re gonna outlive me, right?” she said to him. “Chances are I could wind up just like Wu-Lin. If it comes to that, I’d like you to make me a grave. You’ll probably be the last person to ever see me or my sister . . .”

The surface of the wine in D’s glass didn’t display even the tiniest ripple.

“You’re going to hide,” D said succinctly.

“Where?”

“I’m sure Dwight would be glad to give you some advice on that,” D replied.

“Don’t get the wrong idea about the two of us.”

“They should know by now that I have the bead. The only use they’d have for you from here on out is as a hostage.”

“You don’t pull any punches, do you? But I don’t wanna do that,” Su-In said. “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna run and hide. Especially not from the bastards that killed my sister. I know there’s no way I could beat them in a fight, but I at least want them to know they don’t scare me. What’s more—”

D turned and gazed at Su-In.

“Thanks to you bagging three big ones for me, I can get by this summer without going out fishing. I’ve got a school to run.”

Keeping silent for a bit, D finally said, “That’s fine.”

“Thanks for going along with my decision. It’s always reassuring to have someone on your side.”

“When does school start?” asked the Hunter.

“The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the schoolhouse’s grand-opening ceremony.”

“What do you teach?”

“Are you interested?” Su-In blinked her eyes. Her cheeks were a little flushed. “If we had a teacher like you, we’d be in serious trouble. Oh, the problems we’d have with students falling in love with you. I bet the grades would be the worst ever. Since you ask, I do math and social studies at the moment.”

“By social studies, do you mean history?”

“No, geography. The kids are really looking forward to it. If you like, why don’t you teach them something?”

D didn’t say anything.

Sighing, Su-In set down her glass and stared at her own hand. “I can hold chalk,” she said, “but a brush is pretty tricky with hands like these.”

Big and thick as any man’s, her hands were covered with calluses all the way to the fingertips. Hauling nets, throwing harpoons, washing boats—she’d been doing these things since childhood. After a whole decade of such work, any woman would earn toughened hands. Su-In took her index finger and tapped it against the table. Over and over, there was the sound of wood striking wood.

“You know, I wanted to be an artist,” she said plainly.

“There aren’t any pictures in your house, though.”

“I burnt them all up, right after my parents’ funeral was over. I think the only reason I’m here today is because I did that.” She went on to explain that Wu-Lin had only been nine at the time, and her grandfather had already reached the point where everyday life was tough enough for him.

“I heard your grandfather helped people with hypnotism.”

“Not that he could do much with it,” Su-In countered quickly. “When folks work out on the wintry sea, there’s not much you can accomplish just by looking in their eyes. All Grampa Han could do was ease their remaining pain some.”

“That’s enough,” D replied. “It’s better than just staying sad.”

“I think so,” Su-In said, power in her voice. “A few people forgot all about crying, thanks to Grampa. But after about six months, they’d come back in tears and beg him to make them remember again. I don’t know the exact reason why. But I get the feeling I understand. People can forget all kinds of sad things. But some things are just so sad, they have to be remembered . . .” Su-In’s words died out there. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Did your grandfather always use his hypnotism?”

Su-In shook her head. “After that happened a few times, he just gave it up completely.” An ambiguous expression flitted across her round face. A memory had come back to her. Most likely, Su-In herself didn’t know whether it was good or bad. “Oh, that’s right . . . ,” she said dreamily. “There was this one time . . . about six months ago, I said to Grampa it’d been five years since he’d used his hypnotism . . . and he said that no, there’d been this one time about three years ago when he’d used it just once . . .”

“Who did he use it on?” D inquired.

“Just a second—I remember it clearly . . . I asked him that very same thing. That’s right. But he never answered me. I always did wonder about that, though.”

“Do you have any idea who it might’ve been?”

“No.”

“You should get some sleep,” D said as he pulled away from the handrail.

“You’re really not gonna drink that, are you?” Su-In said somewhat bitterly, raising the other glass to her mouth. But it stopped short. With incredible willpower she returned the glass to the table. “I suppose you’re right,” she said to the Hunter. “I’ll pass on that. A fisherman’s one thing, but for a teacher to reek of booze wouldn’t be good.”

“You’re right,” D said, slowly stepping down from the verandah.

“D,” Su-In called out to him in a low voice.

Not turning, D asked her what she wanted.

“Nothing. That’s a good name you have.”

“Good night.”

Not saying another word, Su-In followed his back with her eyes as he walked away to the barn. Even after the figure of beauty had disappeared through the entrance and the door had shut, the woman didn’t move for the longest time.