The Causal Angel (Jean le Flambeur) Read Online Free PDF Page A

trust. My Founder brother learned it from them.
    ‘No matter what they tell you, they are the Great Game Zoku. You fought them for me, in the Protocol War. They have not forgotten. You have to get out of this Realm as soon as possible, before they find me.’
    Her face is stern.
    ‘You betrayed me, but I have not betrayed you. I could self-destruct and leave you to them. Remember that. Remember.’
    Then she dissolves into the rest of the dream. There is a giant butterfly that flies through the void. There is a weaselly man with a grin like the Monkey King. Feverish illusions, woven by the witch.
    You wake with the usagi-ronin watching over you. She offers you water: the fire has died, and the sky is pale again. You shiver in the cold, hold the tepid liquid in your mouth and look at her. Surely, it is the mountain witch who is the mistress of many faces and lies, not this ronin who fought with honour by your side?
    There is a strange, bitter taste in your mouth from the dream. As if you had just eaten a peach.
    ‘I have decided,’ you say. ‘We shall climb the mountain together.’
    Winds blow down the side of the mountain. They drive raindrops that bite like shards of glass. The usagi-ronin uncoils silk rope from her waist, and you scale a sheer cliff together. Once, a rock crumples beneath your sandal, and you hang above an abyss by the thread. The usagi pulls you up. The thin cord cuts wounds in her hands, but she does not complain.
    After the climb, there is little need for words. Your destinies are bound together now, with silk and with blood.
    The alien presence in you grows stronger as you climb, perhaps strengthened by the ill wind and the ever-shifting, desolate landscape. It fears the weight of the mountain, yearning for flight. It whispers that every action you take is resolved not by nature, but by a Book of Changes, a roll of the dice; that the things you and the ronin did together should not be possible, that you should be wounded and broken. You try to ignore it, but it is becoming hard to shut it out.
    At noon, the sky is grey. A fierce snowstorm starts, forcing you to seek shelter in the ruins of an old shinto temple.
    A flight of tengu attacks. Bird-men, black wings like shadows in the snow, powdered faces and beak-like noses, curvy iron swords. Their bones are hollow, their bodies light, and your blows toss them around like rag dolls. But there are many of them, forcing you to retreat further into the temple.
    While the usagi-ronin holds them off, you discover a scroll at the feet of a Buddha statue, a holy text whose power drives the tengu off when you speak it aloud. The ronin takes a wound, a tengu claw along her ribs. You bandage it the best you can, but from then on she leans on her naginata as she walks.
    At nightfall, you arrive at the crater’s edge, and see Yuki-Onna’s palace.
    They say it changes shape, and it does not look like any fortress built by human hands. It clings to the edge of the crater with stone claws. Its walls are as white as bone. There are three ascending baileys, resting on grey stone bases. Ragged, bare trees grow on top of the bailey platforms, and dark arrow slits glare at you. Low gatehouses cluster around them. It reminds you of the nest of some giant, malevolent bird.
    You enter through an iron gate that stands open, waiting for you. You feel exposed, walking the long corridor that takes you through the first bailey, up a narrow, steep staircase, through small courtyards and deserted towers. There are faces watching you as you pass, and you think you recognise dead enemies.
    There is a huge mansion at the heart of the third bailey. Dark samurai with rusty swords guard it, but they let you pass.
    The throne room is lit with pale blue torches. And there, finally, is Yuki-Onna, white and beautiful and deadly. A young girl sits at the witch’s feet, clad in silk, face in shadow, her hair hanging down. There is a pile of grains next to her. She is counting them. Your