The day of the Tsukuyomi Festival arrived like any other, except there was a peculiar electricity in the air.

One that made the hair on the back of Koichi’s neck rise.

Everyone was on edge, which wasn’t helped by the flailing Ryuichi he had tied in a burlap sack and flung over his right shoulder. Kid was struggling fiercely.

“Let me go! I am not to be manhandled!”

Koichi snorted. “Better than being demonhandled. Besides, you’re not being manhandled—you’re being samuraihandled. You should be honored, snipe. Normally, we don’t bother with the likes of you. We’d just cut your head off and be done with it and the pain you give us.”

“I will see that you pay for this!” the muffled voice shrieked.

Koichi laughed as he struck him on the rump. “Take a number. It’s a long and frightening list that starts with much more impressive beings than you.”

Actually, it started with the Ryukage, but reminding the boy of the fact that his father wanted a piece of Koichi’s hide probably wasn’t the wisest course of action. If Ryuichi wanted to call that marker in, then he’d have a reason to be fearful.

And maybe rethink what he was doing.

Lucky for the world, he still didn’t have a lot of common sense, and even less self-preservation.

So, here they were on the dumbest quest ever.

To travel past two angry gods and demons galore in order to reunite Ryuichi with his shadow.

Why? He had no idea. No one in their right mind would have taken up this task.

Good thing I’m not in my right mind.

Irritated, he grimaced at Masaru, who still didn’t have the proper demeanor for a kitsune who’d screwed up so badly. “I hate you.”

Masaru gave back the same expression. “Not your friend either.”

Well, at least he knew where they stood in each other’s affections. He could work with hatred. He’d had worse.

Besides, they were lucky to get even this one opportunity. Fortune seldom afforded two. She was terribly stingy that way.

Masaru strode beside him, in that weird black outfit he loved so much. Masaru was looking way too full of himself, especially given what he’d done and the danger he’d put them all in. “Why do I have to carry the kid?”

Masaru smirked. “I’m the brains. You’re the brawn.”

Yeah, right.

Keiko gave Koichi a look that said she doubted his sanity for even asking that question. “You know how Masaru is with children. The last thing we need is for him to find another piece of the boy’s soul to gift to the Ryukage . . . or someone else he wants to buy off to save his own hide.”

Masaru sputtered. “I beg your pardon? If not for me, we wouldn’t get to spend all this nice quality time together.”