Legends of the Demon Shapeshifters, Tengu Prince

By Ledia Runnels

During a time of civil war, Kenshi Sanada is born the son of a powerful warlord. When he is still a child, a rival clan takes his family castle. Helpless to save them, he can only watch as a nightmarish creature murders his father and mother right before his eyes. Barely escaping with his life, Kenshi is spirited away by the king of the tengu. The shape-shifting raven leads him to the hidden retreat of a sect of mystic warrior, mountain priests who practice the magic of Shugendo.
Six years have passed and the time has come for Kenshi to leave the mystic's protective lair and face his demons in the world beyond. But the fiend that haunts his nightmares is also the one that shattered his life. More than a bad dream, it wants him dead.
In Legends of the Demon Shapeshifters: Tengu Prince, nothing is as it seems. Shape-shifting creatures, both good and evil, populate the magical world of feudal Japan. And a young man could pay the ultimate price for a deadly rival spawned in the mists of time.
This riveting first volume of an epic fantasy adventure will leave you stunned and begging for more.

Chapter Excerpt

Above the canopy, thunderheads crowded the night sky. Below, Magatsu waited beneath the ever-growing clouds. Hidden in the shadows of tangled branches, he crouched between the trees where he watched the castle, the one he and his followers would soon attack.

A cruel smile tugged at his lips. Concealment was always best, a surprise attack preferable.

Wrapping the black robe closer about his shoulders, he kept his eyes focused on the target ahead. Though pathetic in its weakness, the human form he embodied, for the moment, served its purpose. The creatures he must abide had little tolerance for anything outside their own existence. So he became what they needed, what would make them feel the most comfortable and the easiest to influence to his way of thinking. In that way, he controlled the situation.

The plan had worked before. And so it would again.

End Chapter Excerpt

During a time of civil war, Kenshi Sanada is born the son of a powerful warlord. He has parents who adore him and the respect his clan until one night when a rival clan attacks his family castle, murdering everyone who does not manage to escape, including Kenshi’s own parents, who are murdered right before his eyes. Barely escaping with his life, he is spirited away by the king of the tengu. The shape-shifting raven leads him to the hidden mountain retreat of a sect of mystic warriors, mountain priests who practice the magic of Shugendo.

Ten years have passed. The time has come for Kenshi to leave the mystic's protective lair and face his demons in the world beyond. But the fiend that shattered his life and now haunts his nightmares is not human and neither is Kenshi Sanada, at least, not completely human. More than a bad dream, the creature wants Kenshi dead.

In Legends of the Demon Shape Shifters, Book One, Tengu Prince, nothing is as it seems. Shape-shifting creatures, both good and evil, populate the magical world of feudal Japan. And a young man could pay the ultimate price for a deadly rival spawned in the mists of time. This riveting first volume of an epic fantasy adventure will leave you stunned and begging for more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ledia Runnels
• Release date: Apr 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458084316

Ledia Runnels

A writer since high school, Ledia Runnels has self-published several novels under Vrint Publishing as well as travel related and fact-sheet articles online. Some of the articles have appeared in USA Today online. Her screenplay "Sakura, Jewel of the Rising Sun" won the "Grand Award for Best Screenplay at Worldfest Houston in 1998. She also posts a blog entitled: “Mysterious Orient”. The author lived in the Tokyo, Japan area for three years. She now resides in East Central Texas near her two adult children and grandchildren

Book preview

LEGENDS

of the

DEMON SHAPESHIFTERS

Tengu Prince

A Novel

by

Ledia Runnels

Tengu Prince is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 by Ledia Runnels

This book is dedicated to my children,

Adrian and Shayla,

who never gave up on me,

to Mike, their father, who protected

me and gave me confidence when the story

was in its fragile, infant stages.

Special thanks to my Uncle Verlon

and to Ross and Leon,

my friends and fellow writers who spent many

hours reading, editing and helping me

polish the story to what it is now.

The cover image was created by Ledia Runnels. The background photo was taken by Ledia Runnels at Haguro Shrine, Tsuruoka, Japan.

Crow image was taken from a photo by Joe Mc Kenna, Flickr Creative Commons

WARLORD

Chapter 1

KENSHI SANADA

Darkness hides the earth;

shadows drape

the tree beneath

where the spiders crawl.

Year of the Rat 1504

Blistering trees and burning flesh…through the smoke, I can barely see where to run for my life…

My memory of that terrible night is as sharp as the edge of a sword. I see a room tucked near the center of the castle. I am eight-years-old. Lying with my elbow propped against the sleeping mat. My cheek leans against the palm of my hand as I wait for the raven to fly past in the darkening sky.

From as far back as I can remember, the raven has been there, watching over me. So much so that it has become a sort of pet.

On the floor beside my mat, rests my kashi-wood sword. My most prized possession carved into a curve like my father’s steel katana blade. Earlier in the evening, I spirited the practice sword away from the castle dojo, as I do every day.

Otousan is fond of saying, A samurai should never be far from his weapons. And so I take my father’s words as a solemn oath. Though the wooden blade proves a poor substitute for the steel that will someday replace it.

Gathered in neat rows around me, the other boys sleep. Their glossy hair peeks out from beneath decorative quilts. Like a dream, I never want to forget, I hear the haunting trill of a wooden flute floating on a breeze, blending with the joyous sounds of celebration from the far side of the courtyard.

I smile, remembering something else Otousan said, With samurai fighting samurai, it is better to keep the other warlords close and happy than to constantly wonder what goes on behind closed castle walls. When Otousan laughs, his dark eyes shine good-naturedly. He continues, And so, I would rather entertain than slaughter my neighbors.

Impatient for the raven to appear, I scoop the kashi-wood sword into my hand. Tuck the wooden blade beneath my robe’s tie belt, and then tiptoe across the room. Quietly, I slide the door far enough aside so I can squeeze through the opening. I step onto the open breezeway that connects to the other rooms. The outside corridor folds around the garden of peach, plum, and cherry trees in full bloom, while velvety darkness wraps gentle arms around the moon and me, watching below.

The next instant, the raven appears flying straight at my face. But instead of being frightened, I bow and give the black bird a warm greeting.

I chirp, Good evening, Sojobo-sama.

Unafraid, the bird lands on my shoulder. It cocks a feathered head thoughtfully to one side. A moment later, I hear the echo of footsteps coming from the corridor beyond.

I lean my mouth toward the raven’s hidden ear. In a rush of excitement, I whisper, I have to go now.

A wave of my arm sends the black bird flying toward the lowest branch of a cherry tree. I dive through the open door and crawl beneath my quilt. Pulling loose the kashi-wood sword, I drop it onto the tatami rice-rush-floor. It falls with a soft plunk beside my sleeping mat.

From my burrow beneath the covers, I hear the patter of wooden geta thongs against the outside walkway. The scent of jasmine drifts on a breeze that sweeps into my room.

I peek toward the door. My mother appears in the narrow entry. She pushes aside the wooden door bringing her sweet fragrance with her. The light of the moon shines against her lush, blue-black hair that falls to her waist.

She glides toward me. On her outstretched arm, the raven is perched.

I hear her whisper to the bird, Good evening, Sojobo-sama."

Absently, she strokes the soft emerald-black feathers atop the bird’s head. In the darkness, I can see its curious human-like eyes. They seem to blink in reply as my mother’s gaze travels toward the lump in the quilt where I lay.

An indulgent smile spreads across her face. She coos, Goodnight, Kenshi-chan.

I am discovered! Yet the knowledge sends no quiver of fear to shake my bones.

I giggle, squirming playfully beneath the layer of quilted-silk stuffed with duck feathers. I sing out, Goodnight, Ka-saan.

My mother gives a gentle wave of her arm, and the raven flies out the door to perch on the limb of the closest cherry tree. The black bird nestles among the lacy blossoms. Then graceful as a dancer, Ka-saan sweeps toward the corridor and out the door…

Chapter 2

WEEPING CRANE

A flash of lightning

quenches fire with rain, the bird’s

melancholy cry.

In my sleep, I hear the sharp clang of the warning mallet crack against the bronze bell. I shove back my quilt and bolt toward the door. Only a few hours before, this same entry framed my mother’s graceful figure. Now, I push the door aside and leap into the courtyard.

I stare up into the murky sky. The moon’s pale sickle of light has risen to its highest point. It seems to waver in the treetops. Yet beyond the courtyard walls, yellow light flashes like Sun’s glaring rays.

Hot?

For a frozen moment, I stand transfixed as the false dawn licks greedily at the grandfather trees that surround our fortress. It is as if the sun has fallen into the forest, setting it ablaze. A flash and boom of lightning-thunder startle me and I realize it is--

Fire!

The bitter taste of fear swells in my throat. I want desperately to refuse what my eyes clearly see. I spin toward the sleeping chamber and catapult toward the scattered sleeping mats. In my haste, I stomp the mid-section of a slumbering boy.

The little one cries out, Ouch! Watch it! Unaware of the danger, the boy rolls over to tuck himself deeper beneath his covers.

I stare in stupid disbelief. How have the other boys not heard the sentry’s signal? It is as if they are under a wizard’s sleeping spell.

My throat raw with fear and urgency, I shout, Wake up! Wake up! I rush from one sleeping mat to another, giving a sharp jab with my toes to the shoulder of each drowsy boy.

Born in the year of the Dragon, leadership comes naturally to me. Conceived in early spring, I draw the mantle of warrior effortlessly over my shoulders. Being the only son of the clan’s leader gives me the extra edge needed to get the other children up and out of their beds. With all these assets in my power, no boy of the Sanada clan dares ignore my command.

Groggy with sleep, the boys push back their quilts. Staggering to their feet, they stand in swaying rows on wobbly legs. Their chins hang sleepily against their chests.

I swoop toward my own rumpled bedding and grab the kashi-wood sword. Waving it over my head, I shout, This way, quickly.

Like a dog circling its flock, I guide the boys toward the outside door that leads to the courtyard beyond. Only the youngest, a child of two, stands in the middle of the room weeping for his mother.

I frown with displeasure before I vault toward the baby and give the tiny boy a gentle, yet firm nudge toward the open door. I scold, Hurry up! We have no time to waste! Your mother waits outside.

The baby rubs his eyes with chubby