They were alive, all of them. Somehow! Moonshadow rubbed his eyes and looked around.

Cleaned up, stitched and bandaged now, the Edo members of the Grey Light Order sat in a circle on the tatami floor, bone-tired and a little subdued. All rested in the seiza position, legs folded, sitting on their heels. The air around them was thick with the odours of healing salves and cramp oils. Moonshadow was flanked by Groundspider and Badger. Opposite them, Eagle, half-slumped in a nest of blankets, rested against the wall. Mantis sat at Eagle’s right hand, Heron at his left. Eagle looked terrible.

The small, dark conference room, located just off the archives, had been untouched by the raid. So little was it used that dust particles – rarely seen in the almost spotless monastery – danced in the orange sunset light that angled through the parted shoji doors.

The room was rectangular, its wood-panelled walls hung with a series of foreign tapestries. Each wide rug depicted either a castle or warship from Europe. The tapestries were, somewhat famously, a gift to Badger from the Shogun, in gratitude for Latin lessons. Badger had first introduced these prizes to the rest of them as ‘marvellous, modern alien art,’ adding excitedly, ‘imagine what else we can learn from these people!’

Now Moonshadow frowned at the piece hanging directly above Eagle, Mantis and Heron. It featured the intricate depiction of an enormous foreign ship that Badger called a galleon. Its masts and sails looked garishly big. Its sweeping black sides bristled impossibly with rows and rows of massive cannons. Surely that scale – and the sheer number of weapons shown – were just some artist’s fiction? A shiver passed through Moonshadow along with a premonition of dread.

He blinked slowly, his sleep-hungry mind drifting …

Distant hammering snapped him back to the present. Moonshadow looked up. The Order’s industrious repair teams had resumed work on the holes in the roof, hurriedly nailing planks over each blast site before the next summer shower could hit.

The rainproofing squads were made up of the surviving household staff and boundary guards, the same loyal servants who had fought the fires … with a little help from whichever kind kami sent that timely downpour. Their tireless support had continued even after that danger passed: staunching wounds while waiting for the doctor, then applying healing salves or brewing tonics under his and Heron’s supervision. They’d even helped the injured to the bathhouse and back. Moonshadow nodded with admiration.

Seeing his face, Mantis grinned. ‘Hand-picked, Moon-kun, every one of them. That’s why they’re so steadfast. Our head steward was once my cousin’s manservant. I’ve known him twenty years.’ He nodded around the sitting circle. ‘It was the Shogun’s idea for each of us to recruit staff we already knew. He felt it would ensure unwavering back-up in an emergency – which it certainly has – and help guard us against infiltrators.’

To Moonshadow’s left, Groundspider sighed. ‘One out of two then,’ he mumbled.

Mantis, who was chairing the meeting on behalf of Eagle, cleared his throat. ‘Come on, Groundspider, I know that look. Let’s hear it.’

The big shinobi hung his head, scratching the back of his neck. ‘Well, the Shogun was right about the support staff. They gave us amazing back-up and they’re still at it. But the second bit, guarding against infiltration … good staff or not, we messed that up!’

‘And I thought,’ Mantis said shrewdly, ‘that you were just about to say thank the gods our bathhouse wasn’t blown up.’ He looked round the circle of increasingly tense faces, finally to Moonshadow. ‘I’ve offered rice grains and sake in gratitude for that!’

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Moonshadow chewed his bottom lip. True, that beloved volcanic bath had washed away the smoke-grime, sweat and blood, and brought much-needed relief to their aching limbs. But its luxury was the last thing on everybody’s mind right now and Moonshadow knew it.

He took a deep breath. Might as well get this over with!

‘If Snowhawk was a double agent all along, a Fuma infiltrator …’ Moonshadow closed his eyes. ‘Then I am to blame. I brought her in, trusted her, vouched for her.’

‘True, I guess.’ Groundspider nodded. ‘But we all know girls make boys crazy –’

Heron’s eyebrows fell. She gave a short, sharp cough. Groundspider flinched.

‘Moon-kun, Spider-kun, that’s all goldfish dung,’ Eagle murmured, flashing pin-prick eyes. ‘We, your seniors, let her in. And trusted her. I’m in charge here, so any failure in judgment is mine.’ He wheezed then sank back into his wrapping of blankets.

‘Her treachery is still unproven,’ Heron said quietly. ‘Though, what I saw …’

‘And what I felt, sparring with her last night –’ Groundspider put in quickly. Everyone stared at him. ‘Heron? Didn’t she tell you about it? She promised she would!’ Groundspider recounted the strange training incident, describing Snowhawk’s angry glare, then the shortness of breath and dizziness that had briefly struck him. ‘Moonshadow saw it too! Obviously, she’s been holding out on us, but in the middle of training, her Fuma mask just slipped! Why else conveniently forget to tell Heron?’

‘Conveniently?’ Moonshadow gave a mocking laugh. ‘Yes, how suspicious! She let herself get sidetracked by little things like explosions, fires and invading enemies!’ He appealed directly to Mantis. ‘Had we not been attacked, I’m sure she would have raised it with Heron.’ He held up his hands. ‘Even she didn’t know what it actually was!’

‘Though undoubtedly important, this is all inconclusive.’ Mantis folded his arms. ‘Let’s hear Heron’s account. Having asked each of you individually, my understanding is that only Heron enjoyed a continuous, unbroken view of Snowhawk’s last movements.’

Moonshadow narrowed his eyes. He had lain much closer to Snowhawk than Heron had stood, but what he had seen remained confusing. She might have been hypnotised, yet he couldn’t say that for sure. When questioned by Mantis he had chosen to keep those final observations to himself, simply out of fear.

Fear that if he appeared biased towards Snowhawk, Mantis would question his own loyalty or at least his judgement. Fear also that bringing up hypnotic powers might actually cast his friend in an even worse light. Groundspider would be straight in there with the obvious, ugly question: since Snowy, he’d say, can hypnotise others, wouldn’t she herself be immune to such skills? Then surely, he would argue, she left by choice. Groundspider often jumped to somewhat rash conclusions. Snowhawk was no infiltrator! Moonshadow’s every instinct shouted that, and he would prove it somehow.

He furtively glanced around the solemn group. No, he couldn’t risk telling them what he had seen, not until he knew what it meant. His stomach churned as he relived that bizarre moment: her face twitching with something like confusion, then the odd recognition in her eyes. What exactly had that ninja said?

Heron spoke thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know what to make of it. The Fuma are notorious for dark sciences that baffle the brain, but this didn’t look like any hypnosis or mind-snare I’ve ever seen. A kunoichi went up to Snowhawk, spoke to her at length, then Snowhawk, with her eyes open, simply dropped her sword and followed the woman. They joined a huddle of Fuma who leapt, one by one, up into a hole blown in a corner of the archive’s ceiling. While this was going on, Brother Eagle was on the floor, Moon-kun knocked out also, Brother Badger in hiding. I think you two,’ she gestured from Mantis to Groundspider, ‘were each taking down your last opponent.’

Mantis tugged at his short beard. ‘Well, there it is. Any comments?’

Badger stared dejectedly at the sunlit dust whirling above the tatami. ‘It’s never bothered me that I am the only one here with no martial virtues … until this morning!’

Eagle opened one eye. ‘That’s foolish, Hosokawa.’ He spoke slowly, with pained determination. ‘So you’re no warrior. Well I’m no scholar. Our lord needs both, equally.’

While Badger acknowledged the gentle rebuke with a nod, Moonshadow concealed his shock. Brother Eagle never called anyone by their pre-Order name! Though Badger was indeed once the great writer and teacher Hosokawa, Eagle would hardly address him as such nowadays. Moonshadow clenched a fist. It had to be the slow-acting poison, striking at Eagle’s mind! What else could explain his muddled reference to serving a lord, a daimyo, instead of their real and far mightier master?

Mantis was also thinking of the Shogun. ‘At sunrise I despatched a message boy to the castle carrying a detailed report of the raid: our damage, losses and, of course, a proposed response … which Brother Eagle and I have already discussed.’

‘Surely we are striking back?’ Groundspider looked for support. He was ignored.

‘We have a system,’ Mantis pressed on. ‘If the Shogun sends no orders of his own by nightfall, it means he wishes to leave this matter to us, and we can then execute our plan. Since this attack might be part of a larger, coordinated Fuma strategy, my message to him included a request to alert all our rural bases by carrier pigeons. If we do end up running our plan, Brother Eagle asked that a special message be flown to one particular base along the Fuma’s homeward route. That conditional request is also in my report.’

‘If we end up running our plan?’ Heron asked. ‘Surely we will? Darkness is virtually upon us, and no rider has come from the castle.’

‘Knowing our Shogun personally,’ Badger said, ‘I predict he’ll send replacement security men and extra carpenters, but let us deal with the Fuma just as we see fit.’

Mantis nodded warmly at their stricken leader. ‘So Brother Eagle believes.’

Heron pointed to the narrowing beam of orange light coming through the window. ‘See … and no rider.’ She turned, locking eyes with Mantis. ‘So how will we deal with them? I’m not even sure I know what just happened! Did they really raid us to launch their Twilight War? Was retaking Snowhawk mere opportunism, since they were coming here to attack us anyway? Or was she actually the focus of the whole, costly raid? I feel like we’re missing something important!’

‘I too have questions,’ Mantis nodded. ‘Apart from those leading each wave, the Fuma we battled were generally second-rate fighters. Look at how many we felled! Why didn’t they send in a uniformly elite force? How could they underestimate us so badly?’

‘With all due respect,’ Badger muttered, ‘I say they didn’t. The Fuma have never thought like either samurai or the other shinobi clans. Their history shows a consistent willingness to sacrifice their juniors, their mediocre agents, even their clients – sometimes in numbers, as we have just experienced – so long as it achieves their goals.’

‘What then, was their goal this time?’ Heron inclined her head. ‘How does Snowhawk fit in with it?’ She looked around earnestly. ‘Maybe she was blackmailed.’

‘I don’t see how that could work.’ Groundspider snorted. ‘Moon here said she started out like us, an orphan, so it’s not like there’s a family to threaten.’

‘Hmm,’ Badger frowned. ‘Their leader, Fuma Kotaro, is a real old fox. If he –’

‘Enough. Enough guessing,’ Eagle said wearily. ‘Let me speak … while I still can.’