He woke to the smell of incense, old cedar, and blood.
Riku lay flat on his back beneath a low shrine ceiling crossed with blackened beams. His wrists had been tied to iron rings set into the floor. Thick talismans covered the room, strips of paper pasted to walls, pillars, even the underside of the table where someone had left a bowl of water he could not reach. His throat felt raw. His shoulder throbbed where Akari's spear had cut him. When he shifted, a chain hidden beneath the blankets around his legs clinked softly.
At least, he thought with dim bitterness, they had the decency not to pretend he was a guest.
The door slid open.
Akari entered carrying a lantern in one hand and a short knife at her hip.
For a moment she only stood there, studying him. In the warmer light of the lantern she looked younger than she had in the square, but no less dangerous. Snow had melted from her scarf and dampened the shoulders of her coat. Her braid had come apart entirely.
"You're awake," she said.
Riku tried to sit. The chains objected.
"Wonderful observation," he muttered.
Her mouth almost twitched. "Good. Sarcasm means you're still human."
"Is that what we're hoping for?"
"That depends." She set the lantern down and pulled a stool opposite him. "Do you remember trying to kill half the village?"
"I remember not enjoying it."
Akari held his gaze for a long beat, measuring whether the answer was cowardice, guilt, or a joke too dry to live. "You cried," she said at last.
Riku looked away.
"Whatever that thing is," she continued, "it is not all of you. I saw that much."
"That makes one of us."
Silence stretched.
Beyond the shrine walls he could hear wind scraping over eaves, the muted cough of someone outside, a far-off dog barking and then thinking better of it. A village holding its breath.
"What do you want from me?" he asked.
"The elder wants answers. The villagers want a monster they can either worship or kill. Kagen and Shino want something else entirely. As for me…" She folded her arms. "I want to know whether you are a disaster dropped on us by bad luck, or a person everyone here is about to ruin."
"Kagen and Shino," Riku repeated. "The two from the forest."
"You know their names?"
"I heard them."
Akari nodded once. "Outsiders. They arrived yesterday with that unconscious girl and too much confidence. The elder let them stay because he thinks every problem sent by winter also arrives carrying a solution."
"Does he usually sound that stupid?"
"He sounds wise to people who are frightened."
That answer told Riku more about the village than any explanation could have.
He looked down at his bound wrists. "You tied me well."
"I asked the blacksmith to help."
"And if I break free?"
Her hand settled on the spear leaning against the wall beside the stool. "Then I kill you before the thing inside you wakes properly."
Riku believed her.
Oddly, that made him trust her more than anyone else in the village.
He exhaled. "My name is Riku."
"Akari."
"I know."
"Good. Then we're making progress."
The door slid open again before he could answer. The old man from the square entered with a fur cloak around his shoulders and two younger villagers carrying a lacquered box between them. Elder Hakuzen's eyes were clouded with age, but not with weakness. Whatever else he was, fear had not made him foolish. Only rigid.
"The vessel wakes," Hakuzen said.
Riku did not bother disguising the hatred in his face. "Try that word again and see if I bite."
One of the younger men flinched. Akari did not.
The elder lowered himself to a cushion near the doorway rather than approach the chains. "You spoke with the Winter Demon in your mouth and lived. I will call you what the village has called such beings for generations."
"Then your village has awful manners."
A faint crease appeared beside Hakuzen's mouth—something between irritation and reluctant amusement. "Perhaps. But manners preserved us less often than caution."
He motioned to the lacquered box. One villager opened it, revealing an old bundle of scrolls and a mask carved from white wood. Even across the room Riku felt cold breathe from it.
"Our records say the demon chooses a vessel only when the old covenant weakens," Hakuzen said. "If that is true, your arrival is not an accident."
"Nothing about me being dragged through a snowstorm felt ordained."
"Ordained things rarely announce themselves politely."
Akari let out an exasperated breath. "Elder."
Hakuzen lifted a hand, forestalling her. "The village will not kill you tonight, Riku. That is my decision. In return you will remain under watch. You will answer what questions you can. And if the demon rises again, Akari Hayase will strike the killing blow before the square becomes a graveyard."
So that was the bargain. Hospitality with execution built into the walls.
Riku met Akari's eyes. She did not look away.
"Fine," he said. "But if I'm staying alive, you start telling me the truth."
Hakuzen's staff tapped once against the cedar floor.
Outside, the wind rose.
Inside the shrine, the mask in the lacquered box seemed to smile.