Mitikori watched the icy lake begin to crack. He stepped back outside sliding his twin katanas out as the fetid hands began to claw their way out. Sato shouted for Tsu which drew Mitikori’s attention. The Tsuma-onna was waving desperately at the Jikininki like she was motioning them to stop. She tried to point to the ice below and clasped her hands together placing them against her head and tilting. She wanted them to sleep? It didn’t matter that her message wasn’t reaching them. Mitikori dashed across the ice and slid in front of her, slashing at the monster’s chest. Tsu must have realized the situation because she fled back to Sato. Then Konomi came crashing through the structure. She was hacking a Jikininki to pieces with her kaiken. Finally she landed a savage gash into the monster’s neck before severing its head. And yet, its rotted teeth still champed at her. They needed fire. But how to get a blaze on frozen water? “Sato!” Mitikori called. The pilot looked over at him. “I lied about the alcohol!” 

“What?” Sato started. Mitikori threw the flask at him. The pilot narrowly caught it and looked down at the deer-skin pouch. 

“Burn something!” Mitikori shouted. He then turned back to the Jikininki kicking the first back and slashing at the next. 

Sato resisted the urge to drink more of the sweet potato sake to calm his nerves and instead broke off a large branch. The masterful Ronshin were busy craving the rotting flesh and mold from the zombies which should give him enough time. 

“Tsu!” He whisper-yelled. The yokai rushed over to him. Her eyes looked frightful of the commotion around them. “Take this,” He instructed. He handed her some fishing line from his pack. He wound it around the log and began to pull it. At first, Tsu released the rope after Sato yanked on it and the log fell to the ground. Sato handed the rope back to her making sure to spill some of the sake onto the log beneath his contraption. “Pull back and forth,” he motioned to her. Tsu nodded, somewhat understanding. With one hand holding down the wood, Sato began to saw the rope back and forth. Tsu sat silently at first just keeping the rope from falling but after watching him she began to yank off the rope herself. Slowly, sparks began to emerge. They dripped down onto the soaked log but didn’t catch. Then Tsu stopped and the sparks disappeared. Sato looked up at her blue eyes, “What are you?” Then a Jikininki lunged at Sato. 

Konomi punched down into the rotted skull. Where were they coming from? Surely this lake wasn’t filled with Ko’nu? She turned her head instinctively feeling something approaching but she wasn’t fast enough. A Jikininki shoved her onto the ground and began to bite for her stomach. Konomi wasn’t killing them, just dismembering them; she needed fire. Flames. Ashes. Coals. Starlight. Konomi ripped the shard from off her neck and rammed it into the Jikininki’s skull. The beast twisted and groaned before falling limp on the ice. Konomi yanked the shard out of its head and turned around to see something at the edge of a tree line. A dark figure waiting in shadow. Konomi felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. What was this thing? This figure watching them. It was only Sato’s scream for help that brought her back. 

Mitikori rushed for the pilot. He wasn’t going to be fast enough. The Jikininki had backed him up against a tree and Sato was only preventing himself from being eaten by shoving the stick into the Jikininki’s agape jaw. Mitikori hoisted Hikari-mono, the sister of light, up preparing to throw his blade. Then Tsu blasted the Jikininki with a wave of ice, freezing the creature solid. Before Mitikori could react, Sato shoved the now frozen zombie aside and tossed the Ronshin, a now burning branch. Mitikori left Hikarimono in the snow and used Kurohada and the ignited branch as weapons. Between bashing the Jikininki with fire and slashing them apart with Hirokane-steel slowly but surely the groans of deadmen quieted on the frozen lake. 

In the gray haze the lake was silent. Konomi slid her dagger out from the last zombie’s neck. It still glittered faintly with a fire like the sun. As she stood looking around, she noticed figures at the edge of the clearing. Hawk-mask was among them. Chuckling to herself, Konomi slid the dagger back into her kimono and flicked her Kama-Yari to clean the blood from it. The Tokiwa Ronshin was similarly cleaning the rot from his Hirokane-steel blades. The tribe had gathered in force around them standing silently. The air felt crisp. Nervous. Sweat on Konomi’s arms and forehead was rapidly cooling. If there was to be another fight, she needed to keep her core warm. The Tokiwa Ronshin must have noticed as well because he stood with his swords still drawn waiting at his sides. Konomi kept the head of her spear aimed at the ground waiting in an open posture. Still the Ko’nu said nothing. 

“Well?” Konomi finally demanded. Hawk-mask stepped forward with the chief. 

“You killed them.” Hawk-mask sounded neither surprised nor relieved. 

“Now for your end of the bargain.” Konomi stated curtly, “Are these hunters gathered to carry me by palanquin?” 

“Last Ronshin wore their corpses,” The chieftain pointed at the raw meat hanging around the dwelling. “Before… he sat by their fires. He watched them eat. They gathered here, sick hungry. He stayed for days. Then he said they were sick and he would cure them… He buried them beneath the ice leaving their skin and hearts for the crows to eat. Now, they crawl back.” 

“A Ronshin did this?” Mitikori questioned. 

“Whether or not he was of his own sound mind is unknown, but yes. A Ronshin wearing a straw hat like hers came to this hamlet where the maneaters dwelled and butchered them,” Hawk-mask’s clear quick voice contrasted the chieftain’s long meandering style. 

“Who were they?” The Tokiwa Ronshin asked. 

“Yakuri, Ko’nu, sick men from the tundra. They had begun to feast on living flesh when the Ronshin came.” 

“Then he put them down. What did you expect?” Konomi countered. She shifted uncomfortably on the ice. An anger was beginning to rise in her chest at the accusations from these northern hunters. 

“Are there other survivors? Preferably those that aren’t zombified?” The Tokiwa Ronshin asked, diplomatically. 

“No, where is the ‘summer’s flame’?” Konomi wanted her prize. The group of six hunters wearing long robes moved forward from the tree line. 

“They will take you to Hell’s Bath as the southerners call it.” Konomi weighed the hunters from a distance. Finally, she relaxed and walked over to the group. They remained silent, but began a march from the forest. As Konomi left she watched the southern Ronshin speaking quietly with the Hawk-masked man. Words she didn’t need to hear. Words of doubt. Konomi marched on with the hunters. 

They arrived at a clearing drowning in the sound of dogs. Beasts of all shapes and sizes wriggled and yapped, tied to the pine trees with leather leashes. The hunters released a few of them and the dogs began to rush to their spots in front of a wooden rickshaw like sled. The other hunters began to release their own dogs until all the dogs were roaming freely. Konomi walked up to one of the animals which looked at her with intense scrutiny. Konomi grabbed the animal’s neck hair which felt plush. She tried to pull it but found the dog completely unwilling to move. Growling, Konomi scooped the beast up to its dismay and carried it to the only unclaimed sled. She set the dog down and wrapped the leather harness around it. The hunters stood around on their rickshaw sleds waiting for her without a word. Konomi walked back over and took another dog. Carrying it, as the wild animal tried furiously to lick the skin off her face. With a now wet face, Konomi tied the other dog to her sled and decided two was enough. She positioned herself in a similar fashion to the hunters and one of them yelled out a command. Suddenly all the dogs began running in unison. Konomi barely gripped the sled as she was whisked off into the snowy tundra. 

The dogs ran blissfully through the heavy snow. Their panting breath sent short bursts of frost as they dashed along. The trees began to give way to large stone formations like the inside of a cave. Large, white limestone formations dotted the horizon. Konomi could even feel warmth in her hands again. The snow was far sparser and in patches Konomi could see boiling pools of it. Finally the lead hunter shouted another command and the dogs slowed. They circled up and began to lap up the snow to hydrate. Konomi stepped off her sled and wandered to the front of the group. Orange dirt and ash covered the ground. Soot hung heavy in the air. The lead hunter held out his gloved hand pointing into the burnt valley. Sulfur pierced the air. Konomi walked out in front of them, taking off her heavy straw coat as she went. The hunters remained at the edge of the valley, their dogs baying in the evening sun.