She had taken the lead—or rather, the swim—a child of the currents, attuned to the sea’s caprices, able to read between the waves and discern the safest way. Shinjou had seen it. He had acknowledged it. He too was born of the tides, a child of the shore—but these lands, this sea, were strangers to him.
With measured caution, the samurai in the black hood had followed his guide. It could still be a trap. Until he set foot upon Sakura Island and saw with his own eyes that its people were learned and not deceitful, Shinjou would remain on guard.
What awaited him there? His own kind, he hoped—his people, his heritage.
But he would, in all likelihood, be gravely disappointed…