First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © 2017 Jason Rohan

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

First e-book edition 2016

ISBN 978 1 4052 7062 5

Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1455 6

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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To Anoop, who was there at the beginning

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

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21

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25

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45

Glossary

Back series promotional page

‘Kenny! Over here!’

Kenny Blackwood pushed the cafe door shut and wove his way between crowded tables to where his classmate Stacey Turner sat, ensconced in a booth by the mirrored wall.

‘You’re late,’ she said, narrowing her eyes before Kenny had even slid into the seat opposite. ‘And don’t tell me the train was delayed – trains are never late in Japan. Let me guess, you missed the stop. No? Forgot something? How many times –’

‘I came out of the wrong exit, that’s all,’ Kenny said. ‘It took me a while to realise and I had to double back. You should have told me it was the south exit.’

‘And you should have checked first.’ Stacey blew a rubbery pink bubble and ran her finger down the coffee-shop menu. ‘What are you having? My treat.’

Kenny leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. ‘You’re being unusually nice. What do you want?’

‘Kenny Blackwood, I am shocked that you would think such a thing,’ Stacey said in mock horror. ‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’

She raised a finger to summon the waitress, who glided in to take their order.

‘I’ll have an American coffee and a slice of green-tea cheesecake,’ Stacey said. ‘And a royal milk tea for him.’

‘So what’s the big mystery?’ Kenny asked, once the waitress had gone. ‘We could have had a coffee at school. Why here?’

Stacey picked up the menu again and pretended to read it more closely. ‘It’s haunted.’

‘Huh?’ Kenny’s eyes swept the coffee shop. It was bustling with college kids and high-school students.

‘It’s true,’ Stacey said, lowering her menu shield. ‘You know me. When have I been wrong?’

‘Well, there was that time –’

‘It’s a rhetorical question. Anyway, check this out.’ Stacey delved into her backpack and extracted a slim folder, which she handed to Kenny.

‘I can’t read this,’ he said, flipping through the newspaper cuttings inside. ‘My Japanese is still nursery level.’

‘I know. That’s why I translated it for you. Look in the back.’

Kenny knew better than to argue with Stacey. His classmate was top of the year in everything, including self-esteem.

By the time he had finished reading the dossier, Stacey had drained her coffee and was demolishing the cheesecake. ‘Well?’ she said, chasing an escaped chunk round her plate. ‘What do you think?’

‘I’m thinking you have some weird reading habits. Two guys commit suicide in the restroom of a bar. Why is that something you want me to . . .? Wait. You think this is the same place? It’s not.’ Kenny opened the folder to a crime-scene snapshot. ‘The layout is totally different.’

Stacey sighed. ‘Kenny, Kenny, Kenny. When will you learn not to doubt me?’ She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘After the first guy killed himself, things went quiet for a while, but then business started to come back. When the second death happened, people stayed away and the bar eventually closed. Then these guys bought it, remodelled it and relaunched under a new name. It’s the same place all right. I checked the address and the deeds of sale.’

‘You did? You’re even more nuts than I thought.’

A pink bubble popped in reply. ‘Here’s what I think is happening: two years ago, on this same day, at 16:44, Mr Kishibe went to the toilet. Furthest cubicle on the end. Six hours later, at closing time, the owner saw that the door was still locked and forced it open. He found Mr Kishibe.’

‘I read that, yeah.’ Kenny sipped his tea and tried not to picture the grisly scene.

‘Last year, same day, same time, a Mr Moteki went to use the bathroom. He also went into the same end stall, locked the door and was later found dead.’

‘And the police said both cases were suicides. So why are we here?’

‘Kenny, who kills themselves in a pub toilet? Besides, they didn’t find a blade . . . either time, so how could they have done it?’

Kenny tilted his head. ‘You think there’s a rogue yokai in there?’

‘I know there is. Now, since you’re one of the few people who can see these things, are you going to do your stuff and deal with it, or do I have to call in your friend Sato?’

‘Shh.’ Kenny looked around and leaned in close enough to touch foreheads. ‘You know you’re not supposed to talk about that,’ he whispered.

‘Oh, please. Like anyone’s taking any notice of us. Listen, it’s your job, isn’t it, to stop these things? You’re like a one-man yokai police force.’

‘It’s not only me –’

‘We don’t talk about her.’

Kenny fumbled for his phone. ‘I should check with Kiyomi first.’

‘Can we just leave your psycho girlfriend out of this?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’

‘At least you didn’t say she isn’t psycho.’ Stacey tapped her watch. ‘It’s 16:38. You’ve got six minutes, so get in there and hold that stall. If any monster comes in, you can teach it a lesson.’

‘No way.’ Kenny finished his tea and stood up. ‘Thanks for the drink, Stace. If I knew this was what you had in mind, I wouldn’t have come. You have no right getting involved in this stuff.’

‘Kenny, people have died. Think about it. If I’m wrong, then nothing happens: no harm, no foul. But if I’m right and you walk away, then anything that goes down is on you. You want to read about some dead guy tomorrow, knowing you could have stopped it?’

‘All right, all right,’ Kenny grumbled. ‘I’ll go have a look.’

Stacey smiled her approval. ‘I’ve saved you a bite of my cheesecake. That’ll be your reward.’

Kenny took a deep breath and stepped into the narrow toilet cubicle which housed a traditional squat toilet.

This is so stupid, he thought, closing his eyes and shaking his head. I can’t believe I let Stacey talk me into this.

Ever since she had uncovered Kenny’s secret life as the bearer of a divine sword and a warrior sworn to keep monsters in check, Stacey had been itching to find ways to get involved, searching for unusual news stories and trawling the internet for urban myths, much to Kenny’s annoyance. He checked his watch: 16:43. A minute to go.

Even though he was pretty sure this was a waste of time, he could at least take advantage of where he was. Kenny unzipped his fly — and an ice-cold hand clutched his shoulder while a voice breathed in his ear.

‘Will sir be wanting the blue or the red option?’ it purred, its breath as foul as an open sewer.

‘YAAH!’ Kenny jumped, sploshing one trainer into the toilet and spraying his jeans. He hastily zipped up and whirled round, to see nothing but a blank wall.

Two hands grasped his shoulders and the voice asked again, ‘I repeat, which option will sir be having, the red or the blue?’ There was a harder edge now, clearly demanding an answer.

Kenny staggered round in a circle, but the thing, whatever it was, remained unseen. ‘What are you?’ he said. ‘Show yourself.’

The air seemed to condense into a vaguely human form, outlined by the drape of a long red cloak with a thick hood covering the face. It floated, without legs.

‘Last time,’ it insisted. ‘Blue or red?’

‘How about dead?’ Kusanagi, the sacred sword, materialised in Kenny’s hands and he lashed out, striking cleanly to slice the spectral creature in half. It shimmered as the sword edge penetrated, but the katana passed harmlessly through and bit into the tiled floor with a clang.

The thing re-solidified and dead hands clawed outwards from the folds of its cape, the fingers flattening and elongating into gleaming, razor-sharp blades.

Kenny pivoted backwards and struck again, before slipping in the confined space and dropping to one knee. The creature flickered again, shifting its density round the blade, and closed in, slashing the air with its deadly claws.

‘May I observe that sir has neither the space nor the speed to harm me in here?’ Red Cape said. ‘I, on the other hand, have both.’

Kenny instinctively raised his arms as a furious whirl of flashing blades ripped towards his face. Head down, with eyes closed, he heard the scream of metal, like a buzz saw grinding against steel, and felt a tingling in his arms.

Opening one eye, Kenny saw Red Cape backing away, its claw-like fingers mangled and bent. His own arms were gleaming chrome, with the ragged shreds of his shirtsleeves dangling from his elbows. Without thinking, he had channelled the element of metal to transform his arms.

‘Sir has some tricks,’ Red Cape said. ‘But so do I.’ It flickered again, fading like a shadow, before re-forming with its ruined blades restored.

Kenny jumped up and swung the sword in a wild arc, missing the creature completely. Kusanagi sliced through the tiled wall, severing the copper pipes that ran across the divide. Water hissed into the cubicle, spraying the air.

‘That was careless,’ Red Cape said, wagging a scalpel-like finger.

‘Let it go,’ Kenny said, raising his voice over the fizz of escaping water. ‘You can’t hurt me and I can’t hurt you. Call it quits and get lost. Leave these people alone.’

‘Oh, no. The guilty come to me for punishment. No one is innocent – not even you.’ It thrust its dagger hand towards Kenny’s chest and he jumped back, slamming against the door. ‘Besides, I don’t take orders from gaijin.’

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ Kenny coughed, wiping water from his eyes. ‘If you had a nose, you’d know something was wrong by now. Hear that hissing sound? It’s not just water. Let’s see if you can dodge – this!’ He snapped his fingers, producing a single spark.

WHOOMPH! An explosion ripped through the toilet as the pocket of leaking gas ignited. The blast smashed Kenny through the door, still protected by his metallic form. He glimpsed shredded fragments of Red Cape burn into nothing.

With his eyes streaming and his ears ringing, Kenny staggered back into the coffee shop, shouldering open the door which was now hanging by one hinge. Everyone stared, open-mouthed. His clothes were in tatters and flames filled the passage behind him.

‘Wooh! You do not want to go in there!’ Kenny said, fanning his hands to clear the air.

Before anyone could respond, Stacey ran forward, grabbed him and steered him straight out of the front door.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

‘Hnh? Whuzzah? ’ Kenny pushed himself up on one elbow, his mind lurching towards wakefulness. Blinking his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he fumbled for his watch.

04:09. In the morning.

He sat up. Stifling a yawn, he wavered between flopping back down to sleep or investigating the source of the noise. Drowsiness won and he slumped back on to his warm futon.

BANG-BANG-BANG! The front door rattled with the urgent pounding.

Fully awake now, Kenny jumped up and threw off the duvet. A strip of light blinked on at the base of his bedroom door and he heard his father, Charles, trudging along the hallway.

Scrubbing his hairline with his fingers, Charles unlatched the door. It slammed inwards, catching him on the ankle, and a Japanese girl in biker leathers stormed past him.

‘Oww! Kiyomi, what’s with all the hammering?’ Charles muttered, hopping and clutching his bruised bone. ‘Do you have any idea what time –’

‘Where’s Kenny?’ Kiyomi’s clenched jaw and the flash of anger in her eyes stopped Charles mid-hop.

‘Kiyomi?’ Kenny stood in his bedroom doorway. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

‘Uh, Dad. It’s OK,’ Kenny said, catching his father’s look of concern. ‘I’ve got this.’

‘Really?’ Charles said. ‘Not from where I’m standing.’

‘We need to talk,’ Kiyomi hissed at Kenny. ‘In private.’

‘Fine, but I don’t see why this couldn’t wait until the morning,’ Charles grumbled, pointing to the living room. Kiyomi marched past, with her boots still on.

Charles dipped his head closer to Kenny’s. ‘You two aren’t going to fight, are you? I mean, literally fight, as opposed to just arguing?’

‘Dad!’ Kenny said, throwing up his hands.

‘OK, just asking. I don’t need the place trashed.’ Charles stifled a yawn. ‘I’m going back to bed, so try to fight quietly.’

Kenny padded into the lounge where Kiyomi was pacing like a caged tigress. She rounded on him, stabbing a finger at his nose. ‘What have you done?’

‘Whu-? ’

‘Don’t act stupid with me.’

‘It’s not an act.’ Kenny jerked his head away from the accusing finger and ran through the hundreds of reasons Kiyomi might be angry with him. Had she heard about him tackling Red Cape alone? Did he forget to text her? Had he left the toilet seat up again? He had no idea.

Kiyomi grabbed a handful of his T-shirt, marched him backwards towards the sofa and pushed him on to it. ‘Sit down, shut up and hear what we have to say.’

‘We?’ Kenny looked around in bewilderment until he spied a fat, furry, raccoon-like animal waddling in from the kitchen area, an open packet of roasted-squid-flavoured crisps in its paws.

‘Hey, I was saving those,’ Kenny objected.

Poyo spat a mouthful of chewed potato on to his paw and offered it to Kenny.

‘Ugh. No thanks.’

‘Do you mind?’ Kiyomi snapped at the tanuki, who retreated back into the kitchen.

Kiyomi strode over to the balcony windows and stared out into the dark Tokyo night. ‘I just had a dream,’ she said, ‘or nightmare more like.’ A shudder ran through her slender frame and she wrapped her arms round herself.

Kenny sat up at once, fully awake. Dreams were not to be taken lightly; he had learned that the hard way.

Kiyomi continued, her voice flat and emotionless. ‘I’ve been to Yomi once, if only for a few minutes, so trust me, I know Hell when I see it.’ She shuddered again. ‘It’s a dark, desolate, empty wasteland infested with every kind of filth and vermin.’

‘This was your dream?’ Kenny asked, eyes wide with concern.

‘I said to shut up and listen.’ The city lights beyond the window sparkled in Kiyomi’s dark eyes. ‘In my dream, I was flying through the Land of the Dead, zipping over the earth until I came to this palace made of bone. It’s the only building of any size, so it’s obvious who it belongs to: the Lord of the Underworld. Do you know who that is?’

Kenny swallowed hard. He sensed that something bad was thundering towards him and there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

‘You can answer,’ Kiyomi said.

‘No, um, never heard of him,’ Kenny lied, hoping to protect her.

Kiyomi spun on one boot heel. ‘Well, he damn well knows who you are! In fact, he’s on first-name terms!’

Kenny’s heart sank. This was rapidly going from bad to worse. ‘Uh, was there any more to your dream?’

Kiyomi’s jaw tightened and her eyes drifted into the middle distance, while she replayed the vision. ‘The palace doors go up a mile. They’re so high that I can’t see the top. Anyway, I stand at the entrance, with this freezing-cold wind howling. And there’s this . . . this moaning and wailing sound, of dead people – and guess what happens?’

‘A pizza delivery guy shows up?’

Kiyomi grabbed an eraser from the desk and hurled it at Kenny, bouncing it off his forehead.

‘Oww,’ he protested. ‘Sorry, I can’t help it.’

Kiyomi took a deep breath. ‘So the doors swing open and this . . . rotting thing . . . ushers me in, like some kind of zombie butler, and says that his Lord is expecting me.’ She held her hands out in Kenny’s direction, as if pleading for help. ‘Don’t you get it? I’ve been summoned . . . invited. Me personally.’

Kenny absently wiped a cold sheen of sweat from his brow.

‘Inside, the palace is a crumbling ruin,’ Kiyomi said, ‘all decaying glory. I’m taken through this maze of corridors to the throne room, high up, and there’s like a thousand oni standing there, all waiting for me.’

Kenny scowled, trying to picture the scene.

‘And you know what they do?’ Kiyomi’s voice went up almost an octave and a grimace of horror twisted her face. ‘They bow. All of them. They bow – to me, like I’m one of them.’

Kenny’s head spun and he felt dizzy. ‘But . . . I thought –’

‘No, Ken-chan, you didn’t think. You never think through the consequences of your actions.’

‘What actions? What exactly am I supposed to have done?’ Kenny shrugged. ‘Uh, back to the oni . . .?’

‘Yeah, the oni. Half of those guys should be queuing up to tear me apart, after I sent their sorry butts back to Hell, but no. Now they’re treating me like long-lost family. Then the doors open and in comes the Storm God himself, ruler of the underworld.’

‘Susie?’ Kenny breathed, firing a glance in Poyo’s direction.

‘Susano-wo himself. He comes over, takes my chin in his hand and kisses the top of my head. Ugh! It’s so disgusting. A centipede is crawling through his hair and a freaking cockroach plops on to my shoulder.’ Kiyomi closed her eyes tightly and grimaced at the memory.

‘Does he say anything?’ Kenny asked, dreading the answer.

Kiyomi nodded. ‘You bet he does. He says, “Welcome, child. Any friend of Kuromori is a friend of mine. How is young Kenny? Has he forgotten me and our arrangement?”’

A cold chill ran through Kenny. ‘But this is a dream, right? From your imagination? Maybe it’s post-traumatic stress –’

‘Shut up,’ Kiyomi said. ‘After the dreams you’ve had, you think I don’t know when the gods are sending a message?’

‘But . . .’

‘I haven’t finished,’ Kiyomi warned. ‘So then he takes out a bronze mirror, about this big.’ She held her palms out, marking a space roughly as wide as her shoulders. ‘And he shines a beam of light on it.’

‘Let me guess,’ Kenny interjected. ‘He says, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”’

‘Close,’ Kiyomi said, her voice cold. ‘He says, “Show me the resting place of the Yasakani no Magatama.”’

‘The what?’

‘It’s the Jewel of Life. The image in the reflection changes to show the surface of the ocean, then it shifts to the seabed.’

‘The bottom of the sea?’

‘Uh-huh,’ Kiyomi said. ‘And then Susano-wo looks at me and says, “Tell Kuromori he has four days to bring me the precious Stone of Life or our bargain is at an end. My patience grows thin.” He holds up his hand and shows me this white jade ring on his finger. It’s the twin to that ring you gave me – the red jade one. “Tell him to remember our agreement and honour it,” he says, “or I will reclaim my prize.” And then . . .’ Kiyomi stopped, her breath catching in ragged gasps. ‘And then . . . he punches his claws into my stomach and rips out this . . . white, glowing mist.’

‘Your soul,’ Kenny gasped.

‘My ki,’ Kiyomi corrected. ‘That’s when I woke up.’

Kenny rubbed his face with both hands. ‘That’s some nightmare all right.’

Kiyomi remained by the window, shaking. ‘It wasn’t a dream, Ken-chan. It was a message – from a god.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Kenny asked.

‘Because . . .’ Kiyomi pulled out her phone and scrolled through the photo gallery. ‘When I woke up, I found this . . .’ She handed Kenny the phone.

He stared for a few seconds, uncomprehending, before his mind finally made sense of what he was seeing. The picture showed a bedroom wall and scrawled in mucky red fingerprints to form large marks and symbols, was:

Kenny zoomed in on the photograph and his stomach lurched as he recognised the sticky drips and spatters that formed the writing. The message was written in blood.

Kenny felt the acid tang of bile in the back of his throat. ‘Whose blood?’ he croaked.

‘Not mine, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Kiyomi said, snatching back her phone, ‘although it was all over my hands. Took ages to clean off and I had to wipe the walls down with bleach. Nice way to leave a message.’

Kenny blanched, unable to clear the image from his mind. ‘If it’s not your blood, then . . .’

‘Don’t be such a baby. I checked the fridge and there was a packet of wagyu steak missing.’

‘You wrote that?’

‘Duh. Hello, Sherlock. Looks like someone can make me write in my sleep as well as walk. Aren’t I talented?’

Kenny rubbed his eyes. ‘Am I allowed to get up now?’

Kiyomi gave a curt nod. Kenny stood and went over to the workstation by the window. He picked up a notepad and jotted down the symbols.

‘These numbers,’ he said. ‘What do they mean? Is it some kind of code? A puzzle? Some ancient language?’

Kiyomi rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such an idiot sometimes. Give me that.’ Kenny handed her the pad and for a moment the only sounds were the scritching of the pen and a quiet scrunching from the kitchen. ‘Here.’ Kiyomi held out the pad.

Kenny took it and read:

24°2'55.2'N 123°00'39.6'E

‘Oh, man. This is some kind of mathematics problem? Am I supposed to draw it?’ He scratched his head.

‘They’re coordinates. You know, as in finding things on a map.’ Kiyomi took the pad back and drew a circle on a fresh page. ‘This is the earth, right?’ She drew a horizontal line through the middle and a vertical one, cutting it in quarters. ‘This is the equator. Sideways lines are latitude. Down through the poles is longitude. Zero is Greenwich in London. Got it?’

‘Yeah. And because it’s a globe, it’s three hundred and sixty degrees in any direction, right?’

‘No. That works for longitude, but you count one hundred and eighty degrees east or west of Greenwich to make a complete circle.’ She drew arrows pointing to the left and right. ‘For latitude, it’s ninety degrees north or south of the equator. OK?’

Kenny furrowed his brow and closed his eyes to visualise the planet. ‘So, twenty-four degrees north of the equator is about a quarter of the way up . . . and a hundred and twenty degrees east of London is about two-thirds of the way to the International Date Line . . .’

‘Why don’t you use that big shiny box called a computer, before your brain has a meltdown?’ Kiyomi flicked her head in the direction of the monitor.

‘Fine,’ Kenny grumbled, powering up his dad’s clunky desktop. He called up a browser window, found a mapping site and keyed in the coordinates. The cursor flashed on a page of blue.

‘Zoom out,’ Kiyomi advised.

Kenny clicked on the scale and a grey, clam-shaped blob appeared at the top of the screen. He clicked again, shrinking the island, and continued zooming out until the state of Taiwan filled the page to the left.

‘Keep going,’ Kiyomi said.

Kenny waited until Japan appeared, on the top right, then sat back and whistled through his teeth. ‘Wow. That’s on the doorstep of China. It’s closer to Korea than it is to here.’ He hit the print button. ‘So why were these coordinates given to you? Where is this?’

Kiyomi crossed her arms. ‘I’m not telling you anything until you explain what the hell is going on.’

‘Hell is right,’ Kenny muttered, taking the map from the printer.

‘Well?’ Kiyomi glared again.

Kenny hesitated. He was sworn to secrecy, unable to tell a soul about the deal he had made with Susano-wo, the dread Lord of the Underworld. On the other hand, what was he supposed to do now that Susano-wo had shown himself to Kiyomi? Not only had he dropped Kenny in it, he had also given Kiyomi important information to deliver.

‘OK,’ Kenny sighed. ‘You’re right. Susano-wo offered me a deal.’

‘I knew it!’ Kiyomi said, her face twisting in fury. ‘To do what?’

Kenny looked away. ‘It was for you. For your soul.’

Kiyomi froze. ‘Wh-What?’

Kenny’s rubbed his stinging eyes again. ‘Back in July, when you . . . died – not all of you came back. The missing part was made up by Taro, and his oni soul began taking over, gaining control.’

‘Oh my God!’ Kiyomi gasped in horror. ‘The red jade ring – it was from Susano-wo, wasn’t it?’

Kenny nodded. ‘It was half of your missing soul. That’s why you’ve been feeling better, why the oni part has been weaker this past month.’

‘And what did you have to do?’ Kiyomi said, her voice a horrified whisper. ‘What did he demand in return?’

Kenny shrugged, but it was stiff and awkward, the complete opposite of the nonchalance he was trying to project. ‘He wanted some trinket, that was all.’

Kiyomi’s hand went to her mouth. ‘You gave him the Mirror of Amaterasu? Please, no. Tell me you didn’t.’

‘I did it for you,’ Kenny said, reaching out to take her hands. ‘To save your life. I had to do something.’

Kiyomi jerked her hands out of reach, shrinking from Kenny’s touch. ‘We have to go to Inari,’ she said, turning towards the door. ‘Right now.’

‘What? No way!’ Kenny declared.

‘Why not?’ Kiyomi paused in the hallway.

‘Because she’ll try to stop me.’

‘Good. Someone has to.’

‘And then what happens to you?’ Kenny blinked, trying to stem the tears suddenly brimming in his eyes. ‘And me? I won’t be able to survive here without you.’

Kiyomi bit her lip and stepped back into the living room. She placed a hand on Kenny’s arm. ‘It’s for the best.’

He pulled back. ‘Says who? What’s the big deal anyway?’

‘Kenny . . .’ Kiyomi’s voice was low, the warning tone unmistakable. ‘You have no idea who you are messing with, or how much trouble we’re all in.’

‘No, I don’t, so tell me.’ Kenny stared at her defiantly.

‘That mirror isn’t just any old relic, like the ones your grandad used to recover. It’s sacred. It holds some of the essence of the Sun Goddess herself, but – more importantly than that – it’s also one of the Three Sacred Treasures, the Imperial Regalia.’

‘Which means what?’

Kiyomi grabbed Kenny’s shoulders and fought the urge to throttle him. ‘Do you have any idea how dangerous, cunning, unpredictable, manipulative and plain old psycho Susano-wo is? He was crazy enough to start with, but thousands of years in Hell have hardly helped. He’ll trick you, first chance he gets.’

‘No, he won’t,’ Kenny said. ‘He’s kept his word so far – including healing you, I should add – and, if he does try anything . . . then me and Kusanagi will be ready for him.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Kiyomi released her grip and lowered her head, a curtain of black hair surrounding her face. ‘So, you did a deal to restore my soul? You went to the Lord of the Underworld . . . just for me?’

Kenny smiled. ‘Yeah.’

Kiyomi stroked his cheek. ‘Aw. That was sooo sweet –’ Kenny closed his eyes and relaxed a little ‘– and so stupid!’

WHACK! The slap was so hard it rattled Kenny’s teeth and made his ears ring. Spots flickered before his eyes.

‘Don’t you know I’d be better off dead than have you help that filthy, treacherous, lying, slimy piece of –’

‘No, you wouldn’t!’ Kenny fired back, rubbing his jaw. ‘You can’t fool me. I remember how you were before . . . You didn’t want to die. You wanted to live. To be normal, to hang out, to have friends, to laugh and play. You even wanted to be kissed.’ He wiped his swelling lip with the back of his hand. ‘Somehow, I don’t think being stuck in Yomi with a thousand oni lining up to torture you forever is a better option.’

Tears glittered in Kiyomi’s eyes and her voice was little more than a murmur. ‘But still . . . you should never have done this.’

Kenny slipped his arms over Kiyomi’s shoulders and drew her closer. ‘It was worth it,’ he whispered.

BRRAAPPP!

Startled by the sudden noise, they glanced round to see Poyo squatting on top of the counter. He waved a paw to clear the pungent air, then held out two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

‘Great. Talk about a mood-killer,’ Kenny grumbled, taking one of the cups.

Kiyomi joined Kenny at the counter and they sipped their drinks.

‘I didn’t figure everything out,’ Kiyomi said. ‘I made Poyo tell me the rest, about your little trip to Matsue.’

Kenny glowered at the tanuki. ‘Thanks for nothing. Some partner you turned out to be.’

Poyo ignored him, rolled on to his back and aimed the nozzle of a can of whipped cream into his open muzzle. FW-AAAWSH! A cloud of surplus cream clung to Poyo’s whiskers, making him look like Santa Claus.

‘Well, I am not going to see Inari, I can tell you that,’ Kenny said, eyeing Kiyomi. ‘Besides, you heard what Susie said in your dream. He’s giving me four days to find this precious stone for him, or you’re going full oni.’

Kiyomi flinched and stared down into her Newcastle United mug.

Kenny leaned closer. ‘Kiyomi, I need your help. That’s why Susie summoned you in the dream. He knows I can’t fetch this jewel on my own, so he’s brought you in to help me.’

‘This is wrong,’ Kiyomi insisted.

Kenny’s grip tightened on his mug, his knuckles whitening. ‘What choice do we have? Go to Inari? Beg for forgiveness?’

‘You can do your duty, as she commands.’

‘Not if it means losing you.’

He slid off the stool and went to the desk, where he scooped up the map printout. After studying it, he returned to the computer screen and adjusted the map scale.

‘According to your dream,’ Kenny said, ‘the mirror showed that this stone he’s after is at the bottom of the East China Sea. If I’m reading this correctly, it’s somewhere off the coast of Taiwan, about a hundred kilometres east. Man, why is this never easy?’

‘Because if it was, Susano-wo wouldn’t need us,’ Kiyomi said, coming over to examine the map.

‘Does anyone mind if I have a look?’ Kenny’s father said from the hall. He yawned and closed his bedroom door. ‘I was trying not to listen, but you two hardly keep the noise down. As for you . . .’ He fixed Poyo with a glare. ‘You’d better clean up this mess. I’m tired of picking tanuki hair out of my food. Got it?’

Poyo straightened up, snapped a salute and fell into the sink.

‘Dad . . .’ Kenny began.

‘I know, I know,’ Charles said. ‘I’ve heard it all before. Not my concern. It’s for my own good. Blah-blah-blah.’ He held out his hand for the map. ‘Well, not this time. Last month, you pulled that routine on me and look where it got you. Lost in the mountains before ending up in orbit of all places. If not for me, you’d both be space dust by now, so I think I’ve earned the right to know what’s happening. Besides, if there’s any treasure hunting going on, I don’t see why you and my father get to have all the fun.’ He winked.

Kiyomi plucked the map from Kenny’s grasp and handed it to Charles with a winning smile and a small bow. Charles collected his reading glasses from the desk and scanned the map.

‘This isn’t so bad,’ he said. ‘Technically, these are still Japanese waters. The tiny island is Yonaguni. It’s the westernmost of the Ryukyu Islands and it’s accessible by plane. I can make the arrangements.’

‘Whoa,’ said Kenny. ‘Just like that? No arguing? No telling me I can’t go without an escort?’

‘There’s no need,’ Charles said, taking off his glasses. ‘I’m going with you. If you don’t like it, I’ll phone Harashima-san right now and the trip is off.’

Kiyomi’s face fell at the mention of her father.

‘Dad!’ Kenny protested. ‘We have to do this.’

‘Good,’ Charles said. ‘Then you won’t mind me coming along.’

The twin-propeller airliner touched down with a bump at the tiny Yonaguni Airport at 13:15 the next day. Compared to other airports Kenny had seen, it hardly merited the name, being little more than a 2000-metre runway with a flat, single-storey white building to one side that served as the terminal.

Stepping out of the Ryukyu Air Commuter plane, Kenny felt like he was walking into an oven. After the chill air conditioning of the pressurised cabin, the warm tropical breeze was a wonderful welcome to the island.

‘I hope you packed your deodorant,’ Kiyomi said, skipping down the steps. ‘It’s nearly thirty degrees here.’

‘That’s because the latitude is not dissimilar to Hawaii,’ Charles added, bringing up the rear. He shielded his eyes from the dazzling sunshine and looked out over the sapphire sea to the north.

‘Is that where we have to go?’ Kenny asked, following his gaze.

‘No. The coordinates you were given are to the south of the island. Let’s get settled first before we discuss that. Follow me.’

Kenny’s father led the way through the baggage-claim area and out into the arrivals lobby where they were met by a white-gloved taxi driver holding a placard. He escorted them to a waiting car and they all piled in.

‘Lucky I booked ahead,’ Charles said, once the taxi started moving. ‘There are only three taxis on the whole island and I didn’t fancy walking.’ The narrow grey ribbon of road followed the coastline, bordered by parched fields of yellowing grass.

Looking out of the window, Kenny noted the island was relatively flat, with some steep hills and outcrops rumpling the wooded interior. There were few tall trees – testament to the scouring power of the typhoons that wound their way through during the summer months.

‘Oh, look,’ Kiyomi said with delight, her nose pressed against the window. ‘Cute little horses.’

The taxi slowed to allow them a better look at a small herd of chestnut ponies grazing by the road, each about a metre tall at the withers.

‘They’re like Shetland ponies,’ Kenny said, ‘only not as hairy.’

‘Yonaguni horses,’ Charles said. ‘They’re a native breed, found only on this island.’

The road curved to the left and skirted the tops of steep black cliffs before descending to the little port of Kubura.

‘This is us,’ Charles announced as the taxi pulled up outside a white-walled, seafront bungalow property.

Stepping out, Kenny paused to sound out the Japanese writing above the entrance. ‘Ta . . . ka . . .’

‘Takahashi Minshuku,’ Kiyomi read for him. ‘Looks cosy.’

Charles shrugged. ‘We’re on a budget. This will be fine. We’ll be ready to set out first thing and it means we can keep a low profile.’

Kenny raised his eyebrows. ‘That’ll be a first.’

The minshuku was a bright, cheery bed and breakfast and it took minutes to check in, stow luggage and grab a table outside on the terrace shaded by ornamental palms.

‘This isn’t so bad, is it?’ Kenny said to Kiyomi, looking up at the sunlight sparkling through the palm fronds. ‘I mean, compared to our usual sewers or quarries.’

‘No,’ Kiyomi agreed. ‘It could be worse.’

Charles returned with a tray of cold drinks. ‘We’re in luck,’ he said. ‘Takahashi-san, the owner, knows a good diving school that can take us out to the south side tomorrow morning.’

‘Diving school?’ Kenny asked.

‘This jewel you’re looking for – isn’t it on the seabed? How else did you expect to reach it?’ Charles took a long glug of ice-cold beer and closed his eyes in satisfaction.

‘Are you guys heading out to the ruins tomorrow?’ A male voice resounded across the decking.

Kenny turned to see a pair of bronzed torsos. Two muscular men in swimming shorts, with closely-cropped hair and several Celtic tattoos, had approached their table. Charles reached over to shake hands and the new arrivals pulled up seats.

‘I’m Matt and this is Dwayne,’ the first one said, flashing a gleaming set of pearly white teeth.

Kiyomi edged closer to the newcomers and ran her hand through her hair.

‘We’re US Navy,’ Dwayne added in a rumbling baritone. ‘On R & R from Okinawa. What brings you guys down here?’

‘Uh, my son’s learning to scuba-dive,’ Charles said, thinking quickly.

‘I’m his instructor,’ Kiyomi added with a wink.

‘What? No, you’re – OWW!’ Kenny rubbed his ankle as Kiyomi caught him with her boot.

‘Did I hear you say something about ruins?’ Charles said, ignoring Kenny’s outburst.

‘Yeah, I thought that’s why everyone came down here,’ Dwayne said.

‘They’re something special, man,’ Matt said. ‘You know these islands, right? They’re all part of the Ryukyu Island chain. Well, I googled all this stuff on Ryukyu, yeah, and you know what? Ryu means “precious stone”, as in archipelago of jewels. That’s what Ryukyu means.’

‘That’s a fair interpretation,’ Charles conceded.

‘But you know what ryu also means?’

Charles slipped into professor mode. ‘There are a number of meanings, depending on the kanji and the context in which –’

‘It means “dragon”,’ Matt interrupted. ‘The original name for these islands is Ryugu-jo – “Palace of the Dragon God”. Isn’t that nuts?’

‘Nuts I’d agree with,’ Charles said, sipping his beer and wondering how much the sailors had drunk already.

‘And this is where the ruins come in,’ Dwayne said, leaning closer. ‘There’s like this whole underwater city out there, bro, with walls, stairs, doorways, statues, temples – totally crazy. Some folks say it’s Atlantis, but I don’t buy that. It’s more like some kind of ancient civilisation that got swallowed up by the waves. Isn’t that, like, totally awesome?’

Charles sat back, his fingers linked behind his head. ‘I do seem to recall reading something . . .’

‘Dad, are you serious?’ Kenny said. ‘This has to be some kind of scam. How can you believe this stuff ?’

‘Because we’ve seen it,’ Dwayne said, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Me and Matt here have dived the site over fifty times.’

‘You don’t strike me as amateur archaeologists,’ Charles said, scrutinising them closely. ‘What’s so interesting about these ruins?’

‘Ah, that would be telling,’ Matt said, finishing his beer. ‘Heard you guys are going out tomorrow, right? Maybe we could hitch a ride in your boat – if you don’t mind, that is.’

‘And why would we agree to that?’

‘On account of we know the site. It’s about thirty metres down, which is no good for a beginner.’

‘There are dangerous currents too,’ Dwayne said. ‘It’s all open water with no reefs.’

‘And did we mention the sharks?’ Matt said. ‘Thousands of hammerheads at this time of year. Breeding season.’

‘Well,’ Charles said, draining his glass, ‘that’s a very generous offer and I thank you for the warnings. I’ll tell you what. Let me go have a chat with some people and, depending on what they say, we’ll see if we can work something out.’

‘Da-ad! ’ Kenny said, stretching it to two syllables. ‘How do you know we can even –?’

‘Sweet,’ Matt said, crushing Charles’s hand in his as he stood up. ‘Sounds like a plan to me.’

Kenny followed his father out to the lobby before he realised Kiyomi was still on the terrace. He strode back, hooked an arm through her elbow and tugged her away.

‘Did you see the arms on that Dwayne dude?’ she said, looking back. ‘I swear his bicep is bigger than my thigh.’

‘Who cares?’ Kenny grumbled. ‘It’s probably all steroids anyway.’

‘I have an idea,’ Charles said, when they caught up with him at the entrance. ‘Why don’t you two go burn off some steam with a hike up to Cape Irizaki, while I go talk to the guys at the diving shop?’ He pointed uphill, across the bay. ‘It’s only a kilometre. It marks the westernmost point of Japan, like Land’s End does back in England. You can use that lighthouse as a marker.’

‘OK,’ Kenny said, eager to put some distance between himself and the Americans. He stomped off, heading up the road.

Kiyomi caught up with him and grabbed his hand. ‘Ken-chan, you don’t have to be jealous of those meatheads.’

Kenny reddened. ‘Why would I be jealous of them?’

‘Exactly. There’s a big difference between admiring a nice set of pecs and liking the owner. Do you think either of those two would pull someone out of a burning building? Or suffocate a shark? Or bargain with a god?’

‘No . . . I guess . . . not if you put it like that.’ Kenny looked at Kiyomi’s smile and felt his annoyance melt away.

‘Or save millions of lives, including mine?’ Kiyomi took both his hands in hers and pulled him closer.

Kenny smiled and his pulse quickened. He brought his lips closer to hers, when THWAPPP! Something cold and heavy walloped the side of his head, knocking him to one knee.

‘Uh-uh, big fella. Stay right where ye are, if ye knows what’s good for ye,’ commanded a squeaky voice.

Peering round as he rubbed his head, Kenny saw five child-sized humanoids emerging from the tall grass. Naked, apart from grass skirts, they had shocks of bright red, waist-length hair and long pointed ears. Two carried short spears, two had arrows nocked against bowstrings and one was absently plucking the eye from a large fish.

‘Ken-chan, it’s OK, don’t hurt them,’ Kiyomi said, raising her hands and backing away. ‘Kijimunaa are harmless.’

Kenny stood up and almost tripped on a gleaming sea bream at his feet. ‘Did you just hit me with a fish?’ he accused the nearest creature.

‘We’s got no quarrels with ye, boy, but it’s the girly’s got to go,’ said the fish-thrower. He popped the freshly extracted eyeball into his mouth and chewed.

Kiyomi took another step back from the advancing creatures and felt the soil slip away from under her heel; she was at the cliff edge.

‘What’s she done?’ Kenny said, weighing his options.

‘Girly’s not clean,’ the kijimunaa said. ‘No oni on this island. Must get off – now !’

At this, the grass parted at Kiyomi’s side and two more creatures sprang up. One flung a length of rope with a stone tied at each end, while the other leapt into the air.

Kenny watched in horror as the cord spiralled round Kiyomi’s legs, ensnaring her long enough for the second creature to land a drop kick, launching her head first over the side of the cliff and down towards the rocks far below.

With no time to think, Kiyomi’s training kicked in. Her reflexes, honed by years of practice, made her tuck her knees into her chest and close her hand on the dagger in her boot as she fell. With a single upward stroke, she slashed the binding around her legs, grabbed the loose rope in her left hand and straightened her body.

Blue sky swam far below her feet and the rocky shore was a hundred metres overhead. The lapping waves were too far away for a splash landing – but she caught sight of a stubby, thick-trunked pine clinging to the face of the cliff.

Kiyomi slung out the weighted end of the rope. The stone glanced off the trunk, rebounded and snagged on a branch, looping over it. She braced herself for the sudden, wrenching stop. The rope snapped tight, a shooting pain lanced through her arms from wrist to elbow to shoulder, and her body jerked upright, whipping towards the craggy surface of the cliff. Twisting round to face it, Kiyomi drew her legs up, slamming both soles hard against the rock. She grimaced in pain before yelling, ‘Kenny! I’m OK. Don’t do anything stupid!’

‘What? Are ye deaf ?’ squeaked the kijimunaa, squirming under Kenny’s trainer. Its eyes were crossed from staring at the sword Kenny had pressed against its throat. At the top of the cliff, the other kijimunaa stood like statues, no one daring to move.

‘See? Girly’s fine,’ said one of the spear-holders. ‘Heh-heh. No harm done.’

‘We’s just playing,’ added one of the archers.

‘Then help her back up,’ Kenny ordered. ‘And no tricks. This sword’s getting very heavy.’

The two creatures that had originally ambushed Kiyomi scurried away and returned seconds later, tugging at the sleeves of her jacket as she crested the brow of the cliff.

‘Friends now?’ the lead kijimunaa said, motioning for the others to lower their weapons.

‘Ken-chan, I’m fine,’ Kiyomi said, tipping her head from side to side and rotating her shoulder joints. ‘Arms are going to kill me in the morning, but I’ll live.’

Kenny took his foot off the little man’s chest and squatted for a better look, leaning on the sword for support. ‘Has anyone ever told you you look just like a troll doll?’

The kijimunaa clambered to his feet and bowed to Kenny. ‘Me Tomba,’ he said, smacking his chest and gesturing for the others to bow too, which they did, their long hair fanning out on the ground.

‘You guys can stop that now,’ Kenny said. ‘I get it. You’re sorry. It’s all a big misunderstanding, right?’

‘Oh, yes. Big mistake,’ Tomba agreed. He pointed at the blade in Kenny’s hand. ‘Me know this sword. Who are ye, big fella?’

‘Kenny. Uh, Kuromori.’

‘Ahhhhh,’ the kijimunaa all said together, bobbing their heads as if this explained everything.

‘Ye’re the one bring back the sun, yes?’ Tomba said.

‘Something like that,’ Kenny said. He shrugged and the sword shimmered in his hand, melting away to nothing.

‘So, why ye bring oni-girly to island?’

‘Will you stop calling me that?’ Kiyomi said, hands on hips.

‘We’re here to find a missing object,’ Kenny said. ‘Maybe you can help.’

The kijimunaa drew closer, their long ears twitching. ‘Ye seek treasure?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Maybe. I don’t know,’ Kenny replied.

‘Ye should stay well clear of the drowned city,’ Tomba said.

‘So, it’s true? There really is a city out there, under the water?’

‘Very bad place,’ Tomba said, shaking his head in warning. ‘Great danger. Kuromori not go there.’

‘Sorry, I have to,’ Kenny said. ‘Otherwise, oni-girl’s going to –’

‘Hey!’ Kiyomi interrupted. ‘I said don’t call me that.’

‘Sorry,’ everyone else said.

‘Going to what?’ Tomba prompted, his nose twitching with curiosity.

‘Slowly go insane as this oni spirit inside of me takes control and turns me into a mindless killing machine,’ Kiyomi said, her voice flat.

‘Which, you’ll probably agree, is a bit of a bummer,’ Kenny said.

‘Ah, me know,’ Tomba said, brightening. ‘We’s kill ye now and fix problem. Yes?’

‘Actually, we’re hoping to find a cure,’ Kenny said. ‘Down in that underwater city.’

‘Ohhh,’ Tomba said, stroking his chin. ‘Me know who ye’s looking for.’

‘You do? Who?’

Tomba’s wide eyes searched the tall grass all around, as if fearful of someone watching. ‘Will not say, but me’ll warn ye. Don’t trust him one bit. He will trick ye if he can.’

PHEEEP! One of the spear-carrying kijimunaa let out a short sharp whistle and the group scattered like rabbits, vanishing into the long grass. Kenny cast an uneasy look around, wondering what had startled them, only to see his father approaching.

‘There you are,’ Charles said. ‘I thought you’d be further up the hill by now. Come on, slowcoaches, we can still make it to the monument in time for the sunset. You might even see Taiwan.’ He stopped to examine something silvery by his foot. ‘What’s a fish doing up here?’

At 05:30 the next morning, Charles, Kiyomi and Kenny crept out of the minshuku and trotted downhill, following the coastal road north towards the harbour. Overhead, the starry veil of the Milky Way laced the glittering sky.

Whispering waves washed the beach and the full moon dusted the horizon with silver while it slipped into the sea. Beautiful as it was, Kenny was secretly glad the moon was setting. After recent events, he was grateful for moonless nights.

Leading the way, Charles scrambled down a bank, across a small car park and on to a concrete jetty.

‘Here we are,’ he said, approaching a small diving boat with a covered cabin. A stocky Japanese man with a leathery tan and closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair was strapping a dozen steel air tanks into position.

‘Kids, this is Captain Mike,’ Charles said, climbing aboard.

‘Yo, dude! Wait up!’ barked a voice from the quay.

‘Oh, great,’ Kenny grumbled, seeing Matt and Dwayne sprinting towards the boat. ‘I thought we’d ditched these guys.’

‘They must have been sleeping outside,’ Charles said, ‘to make sure they caught us.’

‘You guys heading out?’ Dwayne asked, his breathing normal despite sprinting a hundred metres with a heavy backpack.

‘Yes, we are,’ Charles answered.

‘Mind if we hitch a ride? It’d sure be nice to get a last couple of dives in before we head back to base.’

Charles removed his glasses for a quick wipe. ‘Well, we’re on a very relaxed schedule here. It might not work out if you chaps need to catch a flight back.’

‘No problem,’ Matt said. ‘If that’s the case, we’ll just swim back to shore.’

‘With all your gear?’ Charles looked doubtful.

‘Sure. Besides, your boy’s never been scuba-diving before. Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t be anywhere near open water.’

‘I’ll manage,’ Kenny said, his jaw jutting.

Matt grinned. ‘I’m sure you will, kid, but that’s not what the rules say. It’d be a shame if someone blabbed and the captain here lost his licence over something as silly as that. What say Dwayne and I come along? That way, you’ve got two expert buddy divers in case anything goes wrong.’

‘Three expert divers,’ Kiyomi added with a wink. Kenny scowled at her.

‘OK,’ Charles said, after chewing it over. ‘You can come with us.’

Captain Mike opened up the throttle and the small boat set off, kicking up foam in its wake as it headed west to circumnavigate Cape Irizaki.

‘We’ve got about fifty minutes to kit you out,’ Kiyomi said to Kenny. ‘Come here and I’ll measure you up.’

Kiyomi went through the equipment box, finding Kenny a face mask to cover his eyes and nose, a neoprene wetsuit, buoyancy regulator and flippers.

‘Normally, you’d get some classroom study, a dip in a shallow pool to get used to all the gear and then an accompanied dive in open water,’ Kiyomi said, adjusting the straps on the mask. ‘In this case, we’re just going to have to fast-track you.’

‘You know I don’t need all this stuff,’ Kenny smirked. He lowered his voice. ‘After all, I can breathe underwater.’

‘Don’t get cocky,’ Kiyomi warned. ‘That was a pond and a water tank. This is the open sea and we’re going down to about thirty metres. You’ve got currents, sharks, coral, limited visibility . . . Here, try this.’ She held out the mouthpiece of the breathing regulator; the other end was attached to a steel tank. ‘It’s compressed air. Put the rubber flange inside your mouth and breathe through your mouth only. Breathe in and out steadily until you get used to it.’

Kenny did as he was told and felt the dry air push into his lungs. He forced the breath out and inhaled again. It was a weird sensation and it made his throat burn, but with Kiyomi counting time on her fingers, he soon relaxed into a regular pattern.

At Kiyomi’s signal, he pulled out the mouthpiece and worked his tongue round his teeth. ‘Urgh. I sound like Darth Vader with that thing.’

Kiyomi nodded. ‘OK, that’s a good start. Remember, when you’re in the water, always breathe like that, slow and steady. Don’t hold your breath, ever, and if your ears start to fill up, or hurt, you need to pop them like this.’ She pinched her nose, closed her mouth and pushed air out. ‘You can also swallow, waggle your jaw, whatever works.’

‘Like going up in an aeroplane?’

‘Same principle, only you’re going down where there’s greater pressure.’

It was daunting, having so much to remember, but Kenny wasn’t going to let on. ‘What else?’

For the next twenty minutes, Kiyomi walked Kenny through the basics of scuba-diving: hand signals, use of the buoyancy control device, how to clear the mask of water, one-handed weight belt release, where to find the backup air supply.

‘It all looks so easy on TV,’ Kenny grumbled.

‘Do you two know what you’re looking for?’ Charles asked, coming over to the rear of the deck. He aimed a finger downwards.

‘No.’ Kiyomi shook her head. ‘But Susano-wo wasn’t being subtle. The stone is down there somewhere. Who knows? Maybe it’ll find us.’

Dawn painted the sky with pastel fingers of lemon, rose and lavender by the time Captain Mike powered down the engine and chugged to a stop.

‘This is us,’ Kiyomi said, looking north over the gentle waves towards the soaring cliffs of Yonaguni island.

Kenny lay on his back, grunting and wriggling to pull on his wetsuit. He had both legs in, but despite all his stretching and squeezing, he was struggling to pull it up past his waist. ‘This . . . thing . . . is impossible,’ he complained.

‘Let me help,’ Kiyomi said.

‘No, I can do this,’ a red-faced Kenny declared.

Five minutes later, he stopped to catch his breath, one loose sleeve flapping behind like an elephant’s trunk.

‘Shoulda let the girl help,’ Dwayne said, resting his foot on the gunwale. He was kitted out with all his diving gear, unlike Matt who was still in shorts.

‘Oh, wait,’ Matt said, from beside him. ‘He’s trying to impress her.’ He laughed. ‘Real smooth, dude.’ He began to unzip his long holdall.

Kiyomi glared at them both, reached over and, with one firm tug, snapped the wetsuit up to Kenny’s neck.

‘Ow.’ He squirmed. ‘You’ve given me an almighty wedgie.’

‘Here.’ Kiyomi helped him pull the scuba-tank harness on over the buoyancy jacket and then fitted on the weight belt.

‘This stuff weighs a ton,’ Kenny said, holding on to the railing for support.

Kiyomi slipped into her harness, positioned the breathing regulator and checked the instrument panel.

‘What’s the plan?’ Dwayne said. ‘Are you kids just going for a swim round the ruins or is there anything else you want to do?’

‘Just a dive,’ Kiyomi said, reaching for a knife to strap on to her leg.

‘Nuh-uh,’ Matt said, with an unmistakable tone of menace. ‘No knives down there. You might get hurt.’

‘What?’ Kiyomi rounded on him. ‘Every diver carries a knife, in case they get tangled –’ She broke off as she saw the speargun in his hand aimed directly at her chest.

‘But not you. Hand over the knife, real slow, and nobody gets hurt,’ he ordered.

‘No move!’

Kiyomi looked up to see Captain Mike pointing a flare gun at Matt.

‘My boat,’ he barked. ‘I boss.’

‘Not any more,’ Dwayne said, pulling out a heavy knife and brandishing the tip in the captain’s direction.

‘Kenny, don’t do anything stupid!’ Kiyomi warned.

‘As if,’ Kenny said, his body straining under the weight of the dive equipment.

Charles rounded on Matt. ‘What’s going on? If this is a hijack, we have nothing of value. I let you have a lift as a favour and –’

‘Cool it, Gramps!’ Matt yelled back. ‘Or should I say “Professor”?’

Charles flinched. ‘How do you –?’

‘Oh, please. Just cos I pump iron doesn’t mean I’m stupid. There aren’t that many gaijin in Japan. First thing I did was check the hotel register to find your name. A quick Google search and I knew exactly who you were.’

‘A history professor coming all the way down here to check out the ruins only means one thing,’ Dwayne chimed in. ‘Treasure.’

‘Oh, don’t be absurd,’ Charles started.

‘Then why did we hear you talking about a jewel on the bottom of the sea, huh?’ Matt challenged.

Charles raised his hands in a calming gesture. ‘Kiyomi, put your knife on the deck and kick it over to Dwayne. Matt, take your finger off the trigger. We don’t want any accidents, do we?’

Kiyomi glowered at Matt. ‘You’re lucky,’ she said. ‘This time last month, I’d have been mad enough to see how good you are with that thing.’ She stooped and sent the sheathed knife skittering across the planks. Dwayne stopped it with his foot.

Matt lowered the speargun. ‘You’d be dead then. I never miss.’

Captain Mike swore in Japanese and put the flare gun back in its case.

‘Here’s how it’s gonna be,’ Dwayne said. ‘Me and the kids are going for a swim. They’re going to show me where this treasure is and in return I’ll make sure they get back up here safely.’

‘And I’m going to stay on deck with Britney here’ – Matt patted the speargun – ‘to make sure no one tries anything cute.’

‘But what if there’s no treasure?’ Kenny asked, sweat plastering his hair to his head.

‘Let’s just say we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’

‘I told you we couldn’t trust those meatheads,’ Kenny griped while Kiyomi gave his equipment a final check.

‘Really? You think now is a good time for I told you so?’ she fumed. ‘Put your regulator in and start breathing.’ Kenny pulled down his mask and waddled to the edge of the dive platform. ‘Here’s where normally you take a big stride into the water, but in this case . . . Eyes on the horizon!’ Kiyomi planted a foot firmly against Kenny’s backside and pushed.

‘AAAAGH!’ Kenny grabbed his mask and regulator to hold them in place before plunging into the sapphire sea amid a cloud of white bubbles. Water flooded into his mask and he kicked upwards, thrashing to the surface before he remembered he could breathe.

Kiyomi splashed down beside him, rose and gave a thumbs-up signal in the direction of the boat. Captain Mike waved in acknowledgement and raised a red flag with a diagonal white stripe to signal to other vessels that divers were down.

Dwayne jumped in and bobbed alongside, while Kiyomi showed Kenny how to clear his mask by blowing air into it. She adjusted the air in his buoyancy jacket until he barely floated, and then gave the thumbs-down sign to descend.

Taking Kenny’s hand, Kiyomi released some air from her own jacket and then lowered her head to swim downwards. Kenny copied her movements and the divers kicked gently through the clear water.

Kenny forced himself to relax. It took all of his effort not to sweep his arms and kick his legs as he would for normal swimming. Here, he was weightless, gliding beneath the tropical sea. The only sound was the hypnotic rhythm of his breathing. Shafts of sunlight lanced down from above, illuminating sparkling shoals of fish. A huge leatherback sea turtle laboured upwards, close enough for Kenny to see the barnacles growing on its shell, and a glittering curtain of glassfish exploded into mirror-like fragments as the divers approached, re-forming after they had passed.

As they descended further, Kenny felt an uncomfortable feeling building in his ears. Remembering his training, he pushed air into his pinched nose and waggled his jaw. His ears popped just as a shadow fell across his back. Twisting his head upwards, Kenny saw the unmistakable bullet shape of a large shark.

Dwayne continued to lead the way, glancing back from time to time to make sure that Kiyomi and Kenny were keeping up. He pointed and, in the distance, Kenny could see a dark, angular form rising up from the seabed. Even from here he could discern stone blocks and massive terraced steps, like the sides of a truncated Mayan pyramid.

As they drew closer, the features of the underwater ruin became more distinct. Kenny could make out a standing pillar, narrow channels, a road of sorts, platforms, stairs – and more sharks. Thousands of adult hammerhead sharks were circling lazily round the edifice like a slow-motion tornado, funnelling upwards. Everywhere Kenny looked, he saw stubby, twig-like shark silhouettes revolving as if on guard.

Dwayne released more air from his buoyancy jacket and cruised down to the seabed, gesturing for Kiyomi and Kenny to follow. He glided along the bottom, kicking up sand with each stroke of his flippers, and led the way beneath the sharks to the south side where a crude staircase appeared to have been cut into the rock.

He motioned for Kiyomi to take the lead and in reply she circled a finger to indicate a loop around the ruins. Still holding Kenny’s hand, Kiyomi led them in an anticlockwise circuit of the city. They passed a huge star-shaped slab which resembled a turtle, a small triangular pool, twin pillars that looked as if they had come from Stonehenge and a partly eroded stone face.

By now, Kenny had forgotten everything except the scene around him. He turned his head in every direction, drinking in the wonder of the underwater world. Questions crowded into his mind. Who or what could have built such a structure? Did it sink or was it always underwater? Was it part of an ancient civilisation or just an odd natural formation?

He could see why it would be fascinating for treasure hunters, but was there any actual treasure? If so, what hope did they have of finding it? Yet why else would Susano-wo have sent them here?

Kiyomi gave his hand a sharp tug and pointed upwards. Kenny looked. All he saw was the silhouette of the giant turtle still cruising above, a black shadow against the bright surface. And then it hit him: he could only see the turtle. Where had all the sharks gone? Kenny’s stomach lurched. What could scare off a thousand sharks?

The answer came from the middle distance: a cluster of silvery dots growing larger with each passing second. Kiyomi looped her fingers into Kenny’s weight belt and hauled him backwards. She pointed to a narrow chasm behind a rectangular boulder and kicked towards it.

Dwayne glided away to take a better look at the rapidly closing objects. Not liking the look of them, he unsheathed two wicked-looking combat knives and held them ready.

The approaching objects sharpened into five-metre long metallic blue cylinders with stabilising fins, dead black eyes and gaping mouths crammed with hooked teeth: mako sharks.

Kenny took a last look and gasped, almost ejecting his breathing regulator, as Kiyomi yanked him into the fissure. As if a hunting pack of mako sharks wasn’t terrifying enough, each predator was carrying some kind of humanoid creature on its back. It was only a split-second glimpse, but Kenny saw grey skin, pointed heads and jagged spears in hands, all bearing down on the hapless Dwayne.

Kiyomi wriggled her way as deep as she could into the dark crevice. Kenny followed blindly, bumping his face into Kiyomi’s shoulder and dislodging his mask. Salt water flooded in. He was about to clear his mask when he felt Kiyomi’s steely grip on his hand. Squinting through the seawater stinging his eyes, he saw Kiyomi holding her breath and stabbing a finger upwards. A cloud of silvery air bubbles was rising from his exhaust valve, as obvious as a smoke signal.

Kenny concentrated for a moment, summoning his ki, and imagined one large bubble. The rising cluster of individual globules shivered and coalesced into a single sphere. Maintaining his focus, Kenny directed the bubble downwards, into the depths of the channel they were hiding in. Now all they needed to do was wait it out until the shark pack lost interest and moved on.

Something brushed against Kenny’s head and he reached up to catch a hard, flat object. Peering at it in the near dark, he recognised the blade of one of Dwayne’s knives. He turned it in a semi-circle, to grasp the handle – and was confronted by a severed hand, still gripping tightly.

‘YAAAAGH!’ Kenny yelled, losing his mouthpiece and his concentration. The bubbles shot upwards once more.

He fumbled for his regulator and exhaled to empty the water from his mask. As his vision cleared, he saw Kiyomi shaking her fist at him and backing away along the crevice, while shooting fearful glances upwards.

Shadows converged overhead and one of the shark-riders dismounted to stand astride the chasm. It peered down into the gloom and Kenny felt its eyes bore into him. He shrank back, pressing himself against the rock to blend into the shadows. He knew he had nowhere to run.

In its webbed hands, the creature clutched a long spear with twin serrated blades. It steadied itself and took aim.

‘Something’s wrong!’ Matt said, staring out at the placid sea from the stern of the boat.

‘What do you mean?’ Charles asked, stepping out of the shade of the small cabin. ‘In what way?’

‘Just give me that aquascope over there.’ Matt pointed to a fat tube stowed beside the scuba tanks.

Charles fetched the instrument, but didn’t hand it over immediately. ‘That’s my son down there. I need to know if he’s in danger.’

‘Fine,’ Matt grumbled, holding his hand out. ‘I just saw a bunch of hammerheads jump out of the water.’

‘Is that unusual?’

‘Hell, yeah. It’s one of those things that’s possible in theory, but no one’s ever seen it happen. Question is, why are they doing it now?’

Matt took the aquascope. He flattened himself on the diving platform, pressing his face against the tube’s cushioned viewing pane, and plunged the other end into the sea. He evidently didn’t like what he saw. Cursing, he jumped up and went for his speargun.

‘What’s going on?’ Charles asked, a knot of worry growing in his stomach.

‘Mako sharks,’ Matt said. ‘Big suckers. I’ve never seen anything like it before. They’re hunting in groups and sweeping like in a search pattern.’

‘Searching? For what?’

‘Give you three guesses. Whoa! There goes one of them now.’ Matt’s outstretched finger followed the silvery dorsal fin of a shark gliding by the boat. He stood on the edge of the platform, levelled the speargun and took aim.

‘I wouldn’t stand there if I were you,’ Charles warned.

‘Chill out, Prof,’ Matt said. ‘I know what I’m doing. If I can bag this one, the blood will draw the others and they’ll eat him alive. That’ll buy time for our guys down there.’

The triangular fin disappeared, leaving only bubbles on the surf. Matt swore.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Charles asked, holding on to the rail. ‘I mean, we need to get our swimmers back up. How is sending the sharks into a feeding frenzy going to help?’

Matt’s eyes danced over the sparkling sea. ‘Sharks don’t eat a lot. Once they’ve had a bellyful, they’re done. The quicker they feed, the quicker they leave.’ Another fin broke the surface, slicing through the waves. ‘Ooh, right there. Hold that pose, you ugly . . .’

He swung the tip of the speargun in a wide arc, tracking the shark, then KRAKK! pulled the trigger. The stainless-steel shaft discharged and buried itself deep into the flesh below the shark’s dorsal fin.

‘Hah! Told you I never miss!’ Matt crowed as a bloom of crimson stained the sea. He reached for a second spear to reload the gun, watching in keen anticipation. ‘Any second now . . . Hmm. That’s weird. They’re not eating it.’

The fin sailed away, trailing blood in the water. Another fin sliced past, heading towards the boat, before it dived straight down.

‘Hey, where’d my shark go?’ Matt said, readying the speargun for a second shot.

‘I don’t know,’ Charles said, ‘but wasn’t the other one coming this way?’

WHAM! Without warning, the vessel lurched as if it had struck a rock; the hull groaned and the bow rose two metres into the air. Charles hooked an elbow through the railing as his feet slipped from under him and the deck tilted at a forty-five-degree angle.

Matt, standing at the edge of the platform, was pitched headlong into the water where the wounded shark was waiting. ‘YEE-AAGH! ’ Treading water, he tried desperately to bring the speargun on target, but the giant mako took him down with a single bite.

Charles’s stomach heaved as the boat righted itself again, throwing up a huge bow wave. Captain Mike staggered from the bridge. ‘Nandayo? ’ he growled, looking for Matt. ‘Sono bakayaro wa dokoda? ’

‘He’s gone,’ Charles murmured. ‘One shark tips the boat, the other gets revenge. This is bad.’

Thirty metres straight down, Kenny was thinking exactly the same thing. The shark-rider stabbed the spear into the crevice where it struck the stone wall by his head, making a tiny spark and chipping off a splinter of rock. Not satisfied, the creature repositioned itself and aimed again. Kenny squirmed and this time the blade scraped against the lead weight of his belt, scoring a groove in it. The rider raised its arm for a third attempt.

Kiyomi watched in dread while the creature tracked the rising bubbles from Kenny’s exhaust valve and readied another spear thrust to skewer him. Knowing he was trapped and it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out, Kiyomi grabbed hold of the sides of the chasm and launched herself upwards, into the open.

Gathered round the crevice were a dozen mako sharks, each with a handler; some were still sitting on top of their rides, holding on to the dorsal fin. Others had dismounted and were directing their attention to the jagged crack. The creatures’ heads were large, seeming to grow from their shoulders with no discernible neck; large round eyes stared from each side where ears should be; wide mouths filled with pointed teeth gaped open; and brawny limbs sprang from powerful torsos. Despite being human-shaped, they were definitely creatures of the sea.

Kiyomi recognised them as gyojin. She waved to attract their attention and then bolted, thrusting hard with her arms and kicking out with her flippers. Two spears fizzed past and she ducked down towards a square boulder for cover.

Half of the gyojin mounted their steeds and charged after her. The others made way for a newcomer gliding in from the depths. Three giant moray eels churned through the water in undulating coils, each wearing a harness with a seaweed rope attached; a man-fish held the ropes in its hands like reins. He planted his webbed feet in the sandy seabed and gave two sharp tugs on the cords. The eels dropped low and waited, mouths open, gulping water, their fins rippling.

The eel-handler peered into the narrow ravine and signalled to his living weapons, a proud smile on his face. At this command, the three eels surged forward and arrowed into the blackness.

Kiyomi hauled herself over the stone block and weighed her options: the breakaway pack was now hunting her and Kenny was still trapped. Being unarmed, with limited air and no time to return to the surface safely, it wasn’t looking good. She crouched down, pressing her back against the rock, as the mako sharks circled.

Kenny watched the spear-carrying gyojin back away from the edge and exhaled in relief. Unable to dislodge him, the creatures seemed to be giving up. He craned his neck towards Kiyomi, to give her a thumbs up, but she had disappeared.

Scanning for any sign of her, Kenny saw three long sinewy shadows swim into view. He stared in horror at the nightmarish, prehistoric heads with their tiny eyes, gaping maws and long, sharp, backwards-facing teeth. The moray eels homed in on their target.

The mako sharks continued to circle until they had completed three loops each, at which point one of the riders dismounted and pointed in Kiyomi’s direction. His shark immediately surged towards her. Kiyomi reached for her knife out of habit and swore when she remembered that Dwayne had taken it. She wondered if she could poke the creature in the eye, but it was a slim hope. She watched the pointed nose lift and the yawning tunnel mouth open wide.

Without warning, a large shadow glided into the space between girl and shark. Instinctively, Kiyomi jabbed out a hand, latched on to the turtle’s shell and flattened herself against its back. The shark’s teeth clamped down hard on seawater and it wheeled away, returning to its master, baffled as to how its meal had vanished.

At the same time, Kenny took one look at the savage teeth closing in and hurled himself upwards, out of the chasm, and into the trap. The waiting shark-riders pounced on him, spears at the ready.

Kusanagi, the Sword of Heaven, flashed into Kenny’s hand and, with one stroke, spearheads tumbled towards the seabed. The pursuing eels scattered before attacking from three different directions. The sword moved to protect its master, slashing first downwards, then flipping Kenny upside down to deliver a reverse sweep before slicing horizontally. Swirls of blood stained the water pink and chunks of eel floated downwards.

The sharks and their riders hesitated, while the giant leatherback cruised past. Kenny glimpsed the yellow blur of a scuba tank on its back and kicked off, chasing after the turtle. It was surprisingly fast and Kenny, worried he wouldn’t catch up, wondered if he could summon a current of water to push him along. Kusanagi bucked in his hands, spinning him round to take off the nose and lower jaw of a mako that had closed in.

With a flick of its enormous flippers, the leatherback changed direction, heading for the ruins of the city. With Kiyomi holding on, Kenny followed. Behind him, at a safe distance, came the sharks and their riders.

The turtle skimmed the surface of the top terraces and dropped sharply over the edge, gliding towards a narrow gap in the rocks. A stone slab rested on top of two monolithic blocks, forming a Stonehenge-like rectangular arch. The space was tight and Kenny, swimming as fast as he could, wondered what the great sea reptile was doing. It was easily three metres long from head to tail, with flippers of the same length; there was no way it could fit through the opening.

Looking up past the turtle’s head, he saw Kiyomi release her grip as the turtle rolled on to its side and soared towards the passage. Kusanagi jerked in Kenny’s hand, deflecting another spear, while the pursuing shark pack spread out to encircle him. He beckoned for Kiyomi to join him, but she was staring at the leatherback heading for the rocks.

The shadow of the arch fell across the turtle and it ducked its head, folded its flippers like a pair of wings and sailed into the gap, where it flickered and vanished.

Kiyomi looked from the archway to Kenny and to the sharks around him. Silvery shapes in the distance signalled that reinforcements were on the way. She furiously gesticulated for Kenny to follow and struck out for the archway. Seeing this, two shark-riders broke formation to stop her.

Kenny had seen enough. Screwing his eyes shut, he concentrated, imagining an underwater tsunami rolling over the seabed. A roaring sound filled his ears and the nearest sharks were flipped tail over head, then slammed into the sides of the ruins. The surging current struck Kenny like a wall, flinging him towards the rocks.

Swimming hard, Kiyomi glanced over her shoulder; her eyes widened and Kenny ploughed into her, grabbing her by the scuba harness and holding on. The archway loomed larger and Kenny barely had time to direct the wave through the narrow entry. He twisted round, shielding Kiyomi with his body, and the surging tide carried them both through the gap.

Kenny had a moment of weightlessness before crashing down to land on something hard. ‘OWW!’ he yelled and the regulator popped out of his mouth. In a panic, he scrabbled for his alternate air source, then stopped. He could breathe.

Kiyomi was sprawled at his feet in the damp sand. Kenny struggled to sit up, but his whole body felt leaden. He released the catch on his weight belt and shrugged out of the scuba-tank harness, rising to his knees. Kiyomi had done the same and was staring in rapt wonder at the scene around them.

They were on the seabed, but no longer in the water. A quicksilver membrane billowed above, enclosing them in a spacious bubble of air. Outside, beyond the pulsing walls, sea creatures were watching them as if they were interesting zoo exhibits. Fish of all shapes and sizes pressed close to the glistening surface and peered in: giant groupers, majestic rays, globular puffers, domed jellyfish, bluefin tuna, fluttering sea horses.

‘Kenny, is this your doing?’ Kiyomi whispered, removing her face mask.

‘No. No way. At least . . . I don’t think so,’ Kenny answered, also pushing up his mask.

‘Then who –?’

A bassoon-style drone reverberated through the air pocket, abruptly changing pitch to an echoing squeal. Kenny glanced upwards to see the source of the noise, and gaped at the immense bulk of a whale passing overhead like a jumbo jet.

‘Is this some kind of welcoming party?’ he wondered aloud.

‘You wish,’ Kiyomi muttered. ‘More like a buffet line and we’re on the menu.’

The bubble wall quivered behind Kenny and crept inwards.

‘Uh-oh,’ he said. ‘Is this thing shrinking? Are we using up the air?’

‘No,’ Kiyomi said, kneeling to examine the perimeter. ‘Carbon dioxide would replace the oxygen; it wouldn’t shrink. It’s changing shape. See for yourself. This end is contracting, but the opposite side, over there, is expanding. It’s elongating.’

As Kenny watched, the bubble stretched out a wide, tunnel-sized, amoeboid limb. The shrinking end of the air pocket was almost by his feet now. He kicked off his flippers and started walking along the extended arm.

‘What are you doing?’ Kiyomi asked.

‘This bubble is moving,’ Kenny said. ‘If we don’t move with it, we’ll be left on the bottom of the sea, surrounded by all those hungry mouths. If we go with it, at least we stay alive a bit longer.’

‘But what about our gear?’ Kiyomi said, pointing at their scuba tanks on the sand. ‘We can’t just leave our stuff behind. How are we going to get back up to the surface?’

‘This thing isn’t going to wait for us.’ As if to emphasise the point, the bubble wall slid over Kenny’s flipper, which was snatched up and carried away by a red sea bream.

Kiyomi stood her ground, fuming, until the membrane wall touched the back of her head and she felt the sting of icy-cold water against her scalp. ‘OK, you win!’ she yelled, slipping out of her scuba equipment and scurrying beside Kenny. She clasped his hand and together they walked along the seabed, directed by the air tunnel that rolled ahead of them.

Before long, the sand underfoot changed to a finer pinkish material, which formed a wide strip.

‘Is this a road?’ Kenny said.

Kiyomi nodded. ‘Ground-up coral. Looks like it goes through that rock wall.’

The bubble bounced up against a cave-like entrance in a low cliff, shuddered and squeezed itself inside. Kenny prepared to call up a ball of light, but there was no need; the inside of the tunnel was lined with bioluminescent plankton and glowed a starry blue. A reddish gleam marked the end of the passage and, when they reached it, the rock walls opened out on to a scene that left both Kiyomi and Kenny open-mouthed.

Towering above them was a vast structure of white and red coral forming ridges and corners, spires and turrets, windows and arches, walls and battlements. Crystal inlays sparkled in the sunlight, piercing the ocean depths, and the surface of the stronghold crawled with teeming sea creatures.

‘Oh my God,’ Kiyomi whispered, her voice hushed in awe. ‘It’s Ryugu-jo.’

‘Ryu-what?’ Kenny repeated. ‘You know this place?’

‘It’s his palace; it has to be.’

Kenny scowled in irritation. ‘I can see it’s a palace. Whose did you say it was?’

‘Ryujin. He’s the Ruler of the Sea.’

‘That doesn’t sound so bad.’

‘He’s also the King of the Dragons.’

Kenny flashed back to his previous encounter with a dragon: Namazu, the bringer of earthquakes, destroyer of worlds. Kenny had managed, barely, to stop it from destroying America’s West Coast.

And now it looked like they were about to meet Namazu’s boss.

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