Akiko walked back to the shrine house deep in thought. She hadn’t really thought of festivals as a source of energy for the kami, but if they were then it did seem like a good strategy. They had been performing the shrine rituals more thoroughly recently, and doing the purifications in the area, so that might have had an effect. Akiko thought back, and realised that she hadn’t really seen Tamao since they had started offering food in the mornings and evenings, so she didn’t know whether it was having any effect on his level of power. In fact, she had almost no feedback on what they were doing.

<em>Why don’t you talk to me, Tamao?</em> She shook her head, and paused as she came out of the woods, looking around the shrine grounds. Was there any way she could get Tamao to speak to her?

The iwakura immediately drew her attention. Even in the darkness, she could see it clearly, the stones standing out from the gloom of the night. She took a step towards it, the feeling that she was the focus of someone’s attention getting stronger by the moment. Another step, and her pulse sounded louder in her ears, strengthening, becoming a drum beat that reverberated through her whole body.

By the time she reached the stones she was stepping in rhythm with the beat of her body, and she sank naturally to the ground beside them, placing the kagurasuzu by her side, bowing so that her forehead brushed the grass, bowing again, raising her hands to clap twice, and then bowing once more.

When she straightened up, she could see the fire within the stones, a shifting red glow, flickering and winking as it looked at her. It was warm, then hot. Sweat began to pour off her, and her heart suddenly started to race. Seizing the kagurasuzu, she pushed herself up from the ground, swinging the bells towards the sky and running round the stones, fast enough to lift the trailing cloth from the ground. She ran faster, her footing unnaturally sure as her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. The cloth strips seemed to be longer now, the red light from the stones brighter, and she swept the kagurasuzu down, the tinkling of the bells briefly drowning the sound of her panting.

The light within the stones flared.

She swept the bells up, and the light flared again. Still running, she moved the kagurasuzu before her, in patterns that came to her from hours of dance practice under the tree, patterns that she had never used together like this before. The light waxed brighter, and hotter, and called to her wordlessly, a cry of desperate longing.

Thrusting the kagurasuzu high with a shout, Akiko turned and leapt into the heart of the stones.

She fell a short distance, landing on a rough stone surface. She put her hand down to steady herself, and then snatched it back, sucking her breath in hard. The stone was hot. She stood, unable to see anything in the darkness, the heat of the stone already coming through her shoes, and strained her ears for any hint of sound.

The light from the jet of fire almost blinded her, as the crack of its eruption set her ears ringing, and the stone shifted under her feet, making her lose her balance. She cried out as her hands fell on the hot rock again, and she could smell the scorched cloth of her vestments as she stood up again. Her eyes had adapted now, to the red light from the fountain of lava ahead of her, its glow reflected from the dark clouds low overhead. She was standing on top of a large, dark rock, surrounded by other rocks in a chaotic jumble. The gaps between many of them vanished into darkness, deeper than she could see, and even as she regained her feet, the rocks shifted again, as if in an earthquake, just as a strong wind struck her from behind, almost lifting her off her feet.

Lightning split the sky, and then lanced down to strike the rock next to her. Fragments of stone stung her face and hands, and the blast of air knocked her back. The rock heaved again, and a geyser of boiling water erupted from the crevice beside her, sending her staggering away as drops of scalding water fell on her hands.

“Tamao!â€ Her scream was whipped away by the wind, drowned out by the thunder. The rock was rolling like the deck of a ship now, fire and steam providing spray as the other rocks crashed like waves.

“Tamao!â€ Akiko was afraid, no, terrified. This wasn’t natural. This was rage. Fury. She fell to her knees again, unable to keep her balance, and cried out as the rock burned her hands. The ground tipped under her, the wind gusting far stronger from one side, and with a scream she lost her balance, tumbling across the rock towards the edge, her hands scrabbling for some grip even as the surface burned and tore at her skin.

She couldn’t hold on, though. The rock was tipping further over, and now the red light from below was from a raging fire, not molten rock but actual flames, red and orange and white, smoke rising from her vestments even now as she smelled her hair start to singe.

And then the rock was vertical, and she fell into the flames. There was nothing but agony in darkness as the flames consumed her eyes, her body.

She was the fire. She wanted to dance, to leap, and she found that she could. Springing into the sky, she danced around the lightning, dodging the clouds, then plunged into a stream of lava, melting the darkening crust again, encouraging it to flow once more. She could still feel the rage all around her, but it was not directed at her. The wind swept down around her, gently carrying her up, up through the clouds, clouds which were the ground.

She was a fire in a brazier, in the grounds of the shrine. She could see around her in her own light, see the nearly-naked people carrying the mikoshi, the palanquins of the kami. They were racing, the men slightly ahead of the women, and around them other people were watching and cheering. She felt their energy, their enthusiasm, flow into her, and she burned more brightly, the sweat that coated their bodies catching her crimson light and scattering it back at her, returning it loaded with energy. The white loincloths, the gold of the mikoshi, the red of the scarlet torii, the shouts of celebrants and the beat of the drums, the scents of sweat and arousal; Akiko was overwhelmed, burning ever brighter, a tower of flame now, looking down on the festival from above and illuminating it like a sun.

The men won the race, setting their mikoshi down in front of the iwakura scant moments before the women. A priest, Shiraishi!, stepped out from the shadows with an ohnusa, and as she swung it in purification Akiko felt her passions subside, her flames shrinking as she calmed down, the light dying with the fire, hiding the end of the festival from her as she sank back down from the brazier, towards the ground.

Where she was lying, her cheek against the cool earth, left hand flung out, touching the rough stone of the iwakura with one finger, the kagurasuzu still gripped in her right hand, vestments warm against her skin.

For long moments she lay still, eyes closed, feeling her breath pass in and out.

<em>On to <a href="http://www.davidchart.com/Novels/Tamao/category/06-wild-festival/">Part 6: Wild Festival.</a></em>