Kubo didn’t stop running until he got to the edge of the village. He held tight to the gates, trying to catch his breath. Behind him, the demons were still coming for him, a fog of twisting, curling smoke.

“Run!” Kubo shouted as loud as he could. “Quick!”

But his voice was so small compared with the fireworks that exploded in the sky above him. The crowd in the square was so thick that no one could hear him over the shouts and cheers. Women sang and danced, the music so loud it drowned out all other sounds.

Kubo ran into the market, trying to warn the villagers. But just as he did, the terrible black smoke split in several directions, spreading out over the large crowd. It coated the village like a fog, setting buildings ablaze and sending people running for cover.

He ran with a group of scared villagers who turned away, ducking inside one of the buildings that were still standing. Kubo kept on, thinking only of his mother in the cave. She must’ve felt so alone and scared. She waited every sunset for him to come home. She must’ve known what was happening out here in the night.

The terrible smoke slithered over the town. Kubo sprinted as fast as he could, finally reaching the path that led to the cave. But in an instant the smoke was upon him, too. Then his aunts appeared, emerging from the darkness.

“We’re here, Kubo,” they said, coming up the path toward him. “Your family has come for you.”

He tried to run but he tripped, falling forward onto the path. The smoke was everywhere. Terrified, he laid his head down on the ground. They would take his eye, he was sure of it, and maybe his life, too.

Then he felt a tug on his woven bag. The sweet chords of his shamisen filled the air. He looked up, worried that the Sisters had taken his beloved instrument, but it was his mother standing before him. She brought the bachi down across the strings, strumming a beautiful tune.

The notes were so powerful that they moved through the smoke like a shock wave, stunning the demons. For a moment, the smoke fell back. Kubo stood quickly, starting toward his mother as she played. She never took her eyes off her evil sisters.

“Kubo, you must find the armor,” she gasped. “It’s your only chance—remember this!”

He wanted to hug her, to hold her close, but there was no time. She shoved the shamisen into his arms. Then she held her hand out. It glowed with a mysterious blue light. She gently touched the beetle that was embroidered on the back of his father’s robe. Within seconds magical wings sprouted from the folds of the cloth. They fluttered furiously and Kubo was slowly lifted into the air.

Up, higher and higher, he went, until his mother was so small below him. He watched helplessly as his aunts moved toward her. One drew a razor-sharp sword. The other pulled a bladed chain from her robes. His mother was surrounded.

He watched, terrified, as his aunts moved in. They charged his mother with great force, but just as they reached her there was a blinding light. Then the robe rose up around him, shielding his eyes.