The Twelve Kingdoms: Shadow of the Moon

body. She had been trying all along to rouse herself but she couldn't move a finger.
    The woman gently reached out and stroked the beast. The tips of her fingers touched a patch of red and she jerked back her hand as if she had touched something searing hot.
    "Who are you?"
    The woman didn't answer. She reached out again, grasped the hilt of the sword--the blade was still embedded in the beast's neck--pulled it free and set it on the ground. She eased the beast's head into her lap.
    "Did you send them after me?"
    The woman didn't speak. She cradled the beast in her lap, petted its coat. Her luxurious kimono was soon stained with clotted blood.
    "And all the youma who've attacked me up to now? What do you have against me?"
    Hugging the beast's head, the woman shook her head. Youko raised her eyebrows. The parrot perched on the woman's shoulder flapped its wings.
    ""
    The shrill voice no doubt belonged to the parrot. Startled, Youko looked at it. The woman opened her eyes and glanced at the parrot as well.
    ""
    The woman spoke for the first time. "I cannot."
    ""
    The woman shook her head emphatically. "Please! That is the one thing I cannot do!"
    ""
    "I cannot!"
    The parrot beat its wings and soared into the sky. It circled once and glided back to the earth. ""
    "The sword is hers. It would be pointless to take it." There were echoes of pity and supplication in the woman's voice.
    "" The parrot spoke in a loud, shrill voice. It flapped its wings vigorously. ""
    "I cannot. First of all, I cannot use that sword."
    ""
    The parrot opened its beak wide. Something glittered deep in its mouth behind its round tongue. Youko stared disbelievingly as the parrot coughed up the tip of a glossy black rod. Before her startled eyes, inch by inch, the bird continued to disgorge the full length of a Japanese-style sword in a black scabbard.
    ""
    The woman's face was white with despair. "Please, I beg of you."
    The parrot once more flapped its wings. ""
    As if struck physically, the woman covered her face with her hands. Youko pawed at the earth. She had to get up and get out of here. Yet the best she could do was rake the ground with her fingers.
    The woman turned towards Youko, her face wet with tears.
    "Stop." Youko's voice was so hoarse she could barely hear herself speak.
    The woman reached down and seized the sword the parrot had disgorged. Her hands were soiled with the blood of the dog beast.
    "Don't do this . . . what kind of person are you?"
    What kind of thing was that parrot? What kind of creatures were those beasts? Why was this happening to her?
    The woman's lips scarcely moved. Forgive me, Youko barely heard her say.
    "Please . . . don't."
    The woman aimed the tip of the sword at the spot on the ground where Youko's right hand clawed the earth. As strange as it might seem, it was the woman who looked about ready to keel over, she was so gray.
    Observing this, the parrot flew over and perched on Youko's arm. Its thick talons dug into her flesh. For some inexplicable reason, the bird was as heavy as a boulder. Youko wished to fling it off her arm but couldn't budge an inch.
    The parrot cawed, ""
    The woman raised the sword.
    "God, no!"
    Youko exercised every ounce of strength left in her, but she was too weak, the weight of the parrot riding her arm too heavy, and the woman drove the sword down faster than she could possibly move.
    She felt nothing, only the shock of the impact.
    Youko was not even sure she was still alive. Before shock could turn into pain, she lost consciousness.

Chapter 33
    T he awful pain brought her back to life.
    As soon as her eyes opened, she checked her arm. There was the sword that had stabbed her. At first she didn't understand what she was looking at. The sword stood erect, hilt pointing towards skyward.
    Seconds later the pain brought her back to her senses. The sword pinned her right hand to the earth, the slender blade buried deeply through the palm. Throbbing pain radiated up her arm and into her head. Gently she tried moving her arm. The pain tearing through her hand made her scream.
    Swallowing the dizziness and pain, taking care not to make the pain in her hand any worse, she sat herself up. With her trembling left hand she seized the hilt of the sword. She closed her eyes, clenched her teeth together, yanked out the sword. Pain convulsed her body.
    She cast the sword aside, pressed her wounded hand to her chest, rolled on the ground over to where the beast had fallen. She didn't cry