Heaven's Net Is Wide by Lian Hearn (good books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

end of the bridge, their feet almost soundless on the smooth stone. On the northern side, a small wooden platform had been erected, matted like an outdoor room, the sides swathed in silk cloth, the roof a canopy. On either side, banners rippled in the soft breeze, so the Otori heron seemed to fly.

Lord Otori sat in the center of the platform, flanked by his brothers on his right, and his two sons, Shigeru and Takeshi, on his left.

Akane remembered how she had helped one brother pull the other from the water, and she wondered if they knew who she was. Yuta’s little brother had been given to the shrine: he would become a priest, but now he was still a child, and danced the heron dance with the other boys crossing the bridge, passing by her father’s tomb.

Was he dead yet?

The silence of the crowd, the insistent pulse of the drums, the graceful movements of the dancers, full of controlled energy and power, ancient beyond words, moved her unbearably. Despite herself, a cry of emotion forced itself from her throat, a cry like a seabird’s that pierced the souls of those who heard it.

Her father did not hear it and would never hear anything again.

THE OTORI LORDS were escorted away and the crowd mainly dispersed, though a handful of people remained, Wataru and Naizo among them. There was nothing they could do for their master, but they could not bring themselves to leave him either. It was unthinkable that they would return to their homes, to their ordinary lives, while he, no longer alive but not yet dead, crouched in the dark among the stones.

Akane had not thought her legs would obey her, but they did, taking her with hesitant steps toward the center of the bridge. Here she knelt and prayed for her father’s swift death, for his soul’s safe passage.

Wataru came and knelt beside her. He was like an uncle to her; she had known him all her life.

“He made it perfectly,” he said quietly. “There will be no air. It will be quick.”

She did not dare to ask how long.

They stayed there all day, until the sky faded to gray, the haze rose from the sea, and one by one stars appeared. It was a warm night, and a rain frog was croaking from the reed beds, echoed by the tinkling bell frog. At one point Wataru spoke to Naizo, and the boy disappeared for a while and came back with a flask of wine and two bowls. Wataru poured a little into one of the bowls and set it before the stone. Then the three of them drank in turn from the other. As Akane lifted the bowl to her lips, she heard a new sound in the voice of the river.

“I can hear him,” she whispered, and swallowed the wine in a gulp.

“No, he is long dead,” Wataru replied. “Don’t torment yourself.”

“Listen,” Naizo said, and then all three of them heard it, a sort of low keening beneath the flow of the river. It was her father’s voice, transmuted into water. He had become one with the river.

14

Shigeru heard the girl’s cry and glanced toward her. He could not see her face-her head was covered with a wide cloth-and he did not recognize her, but the way she stood straight and calm impressed him. The stonemason’s death troubled him, though he had said nothing against his father’s decision, feeling his loyalty was more important than his conscience.

He had returned from Terayama as soon as the snows melted and the roads were open. Winter might call an end to skirmishes and campaigns, but intrigue was not smothered by the snow. He had intended to stop in Tsuwano and insist again that Kitano’s sons be recalled from Inuyama, but messengers had come saying that spring had brought an outburst of smallpox and Lord Shigeru was on no account to risk endangering his life: he should return directly to Hagi. It was impossible to know if this was a lie or not. Shigeru himself was determined to go to Tsuwano and prove it was, but Irie, who had come to the temple to escort him home, advised against it.

The new year had seen him turn sixteen. He was now fully a man: his coming-of-age ceremony was held in the third month with great solemnity and rejoicing. He was glad to be back in Hagi-though he missed Matsuda’s advice and support-and was relieved that his brother had survived the fall from his horse, a slight inflammation of the lungs during the coldest days of winter, and numerous blows from wooden swords in practice. For Takeshi now lived in the castle with his father and trained with the other boys of the Otori clan.

The brothers were delighted to be together, their separation having strengthened the bonds of affection between them. Moving away from home and his mother’s over-loving influence had made Takeshi grow up. He was tall and strong for his age, still as self-confident as ever, perhaps rather to excess, as he tended to be boastful, but his teachers assured Shigeru that this was being tempered by discipline and training, and in any case Lord Takeshi had a lot to be boastful about. He excelled at all the warrior’s arts, his mind was quick, his memory retentive. Shigeru was pleased to see that the Otori characteristics that could so easily become defects, as Matsuda had told him, were still strong-though Takeshi had lost none of his recklessness.

After his conversations with Matsuda, Shigeru watched his uncles more closely, alert to any hint of treachery. He told his father of Kitano’s decision to send his sons to Inuyama. At first, Shigemori was inclined to agree with Shigeru and Matsuda that they should act swiftly to put an end to such disloyalty; but he consulted his brothers, who advised against it, saying it seemed unwise to provoke the Tohan and insult the Iida family further.

“The unfortunate incident with Miura