Not until a fourth actor appeared, wearing the elaborate gold costume of Amaterasu. And she was angry at the shadow players who’d taken her light.

Her dance was furious and elegant before she took the candle from the two, mimed her shouts, stomped her feet, then let out a furious roar that was louder than any battle cry.

She blew out the candle, leaving them all in utter darkness.

Silence rang out so swiftly that it made his ears ring.

Even Ryuichi was still.

Quickly, lanterns were lit, yet all the actors were gone. Their costumes and masks lay on the stage, utterly forgotten, as if the players had vanished where they’d stood.

A stunned Koichi scanned the crowd to make sure there weren’t grown men running naked through them.

Nope. No sight or sound. Not even a whisper.

He turned to Keiko. “Where did they go?”

“Gone,” she said, and then fell silent.

“Where?”

She didn’t answer.

At the same time, the crowd of villagers began undulating and shuffling to some silent music, like a peculiar mix of a flock of herons and a raging sea. They moved en masse, with such force that Koichi and his companions were carried along with them as they headed away from the stage, toward the outskirts of town.

There were so many people . . .

He couldn’t escape or pull away. In fact, it was hard to keep his grip on his struggling bundle.

“Where are we going?” He expected an answer from Masaru or Keiko, but a villager to his right spoke up. “To see the masters.” The man’s tone was eerie and devoid of all emotion.

Like a tsunami, the crowd carried all of them to the outer edges of town, where a shrine had been built.

It stood dark and ominous in the moonlight. Somber light ricocheted through the shrine as if it were a living, breathing creature.

This was what they’d come for . . .

But as he looked at it, apprehension slowed his gait.

What are we doing?

Was this the best course of action?

He began to think of all the ways it could backfire. Maybe going to see the twin gods in order for them to restore Ryuichi’s shadow had not been the wisest idea after all.

“Should we leave?” The words were out before he could stop them.

Masaru laughed evilly. “Unless you’re a tengu and have a pair of wings that can fly you over these people, you’re stuck, buddy.”

“I really loathe you.”

That only made Masaru smile wider.

People flowed up and down the stairs of the shrine in a seemingly random pattern. Gradually, it dawned on Koichi that some of the petitioners were being turned away by the gods.

He tightened his grip on the burlap sack.

That was something he hadn’t considered. What if the gods refused to let them pass?