An SI Fushigi Yuugi Fanfic

All Fushigi Yuugi characters are the creations of Yuu Watase and not my own.

"Hey, Riaka, here’s the rest of that Lensman series; the ones you don’t have." Luri held up the two books and waved them at her friend.

"Mike has those," Riaka said absently, glancing at them then going back to the book-flap she was reading. "So I’ve read them already, but…" She reached out with the hand that had fewer books already in it and took the two Lensman paperbacks. "But those are the edition I have!" Luri chuckled at her and went back to her own search.

They were spending a day of Riaka’s vacation here in San Francisco’s Japantown; Luri was between assignments as a tech writer and had some time off, also. Here they had found one of the niftiest used/new bookstores either had ever been in. The Fantasy/Science Fiction sections were of truly epic proportions, and ‘landscaped’ – for that was really the best term – in a surreal trompe-l’oeil style that made it seem as though they were in both forest and gothic castle on a distant planet all at once. They’d already been there for two hours and hadn’t even noticed the time passing. What to do with all the books they were planning to buy was becoming a problem.

Riaka sighed and put the book she’d been looking at back. The cover made it sound interesting, but reading the first few pages made her think it would end up being lame. She arched backward to make her spine crackle and pop then glanced around to see what might just catch her eye. Not always the best way to find good new books, but sometimes it worked. An odd sound caught her attention.

"Eh?" Something bright red flickered across her peripheral vision. She took a few steps along the aisle. Someone let a bird loose in here?

Luri’s head came up too. "Was that a bird flying past?"

"I think so."

They moved quietly and slowly, not wanting to startle the bird; it sounded like it was hovering just around the corner. They peeked; and two pairs of eyes widened in surprise.

"OK, zoology major," said Luri. "What kind of bird is THAT!?!"

"Beats the heck outta me; I didn’t take ornithology, remember? Looks like a rooster on steroids and a scarlet ibis had a love child, though." Riaka blinked and rubbed her right eye; her contact lens must be fuzzed up; the ‘rooster’ looked like it was glowing.

They followed the creature as it flew onward, around another corner and down ever-narrower corridors, surrounded by dusty tomes on groaning shelves that reached up to the sky or ceiling; it was hard anymore to tell which. Luri muttered something about Narnia, Riaka grinned and kept her eye on the birdie…

Through a door that unlocked itself for them, into a darkened chamber dense with the smell of cracking leather and ancient ink and yellowing parchment…A flowering of crimson sparks; the two women drew breath to shout – fire! – and the bird disappeared.

A Book fell to the floor.

"Earthquake," Riaka whispered, though she hadn’t felt anything.

"Right," said Luri, not convinced.

They put their armloads of books down. They walked to the Book. Luri picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, hand-bound with a grey leather spine and persimmon leather cover. The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth. Riaka traced the black letters. Luri opened to the Beginning; the print was large enough even Riaka could read it. It seemed to be a turn-of-the-previous-century English translation of a much older Chinese text. They read:

"What is this?" Riaka commented. "The Chinese NeverEnding Story?"

Luri grinned. "Looks like. Shall we?"

"Are you kidding? We are SO there!"

The open Book flared; red light struck them like an ocean wave, knocking them off their feet; across the starry darkness: a shattering cry as a Phoenix rose. Something tore them apart, flung them away, within, then pounded them together again. Gravity spun up and hit them with a planet.

What the Hell!?! Luri and Riaka stared at each other and sat up, afraid for just a moment to look at where they’d landed. They had clung together through the tumult with desperate strength.

"Ow," said Luri.’

"Sorry!" said Riaka, releasing her arm. Luri let go of Riaka’s long braid and they stood.

Golden stone, sand, a few scraggly, dry plants of unfamiliar species. High desert of a kind, but not the Sonoran type they’d recognize. Riaka discarded the comment she was about to make about Kansas and Toto; it seemed rather inadequate. After a while she realized she was going to hyperventilate, so she hiccuped and held her breath to get it under control. Luri decided very calmly to sit down on this nice boulder until her knees behaved themselves.

"All I meant ," Riaka said carefully. "Was that we should definitely buy the book."

Luri made a strangled, half outraged noise. "What we meant was more or less what we’ve got! Only…" Only they hadn’t expected it to actually work! This was the stuff of TV and movies and the kind of books they so often read. "OK, we’re either dreaming, hallucinating, or this is…"

"Real?" Riaka wanted to scoff. Her education had leaned toward science even in grade school. This sort of thing just didn’t happen in the rational universe she was used to. But she also wanted to believe in magic. She had never been able to, though, unless magic was defined as in Clarke’s Third Law. [Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.] She knelt and picked up a handful of pebbles and sand. She let them fall, the sand blowing away in the light breeze. It wasn’t as hot as the landscape suggested it could get, and the sun was high overhead; midday or thereabouts. If she had to guess, she’d say they were still on Earth at least, but where, and probably more important, when? "I’m not dreaming," she said firmly.

"How do you know?" Luri asked, amused. She had her degree in psychology from the same university where Riaka had gotten her zoology degree. They had been roommates for a year there. Luri knew how easily the human brain could be fooled; she wasn’t convinced something relatively prosaic, like drug-induced hallucination, wasn’t going on. But why? Well, they’d find that out when and if they could.

"I don’t dream like this," Riaka said. "Other worlds, sure, but not like this. The landscapes in my dreams are always geologically dubious. Or at least extreme versions of reality. This is too normal."

Luri laughed. "Actually, I know what you mean," she said softly.

A stealthy footfall. A pair of figures rushed at them from behind a nearby rock formation. Luri and Riaka were already tanked up on adrenaline from their sudden transportation; they bolted without even a squeak of surprise. Luri, a natural sprinter, pulled ahead on her longer legs; then, without thinking, even in the midst of panic, moderated her stride just enough to keep from leaving Riaka too far behind.

But the men were faster over the distance. One tackled Riaka, slamming her to the ground. But she spun in midair, her body obeying her training in jujitsu enough so she landed without damage, and she came up kicking and blocking the man’s startled swipes at her. More or less by chance, she caught him a solid blow in the midsection and then the face; he groaned and rolled away from her. Luri was dancing around the other man; he had a short sword out and was teasing her with it, laughing nastily. Riaka quickly and savagely kicked her opponent in the kidneys and neck and ran toward Luri. She threw a rock to catch the man’s attention; now he was between them and had to pick his target. Riaka knew she had been taught techniques that would do her some good if she could get past that sword; but she wasn’t at all sure she could do even that. She was already red-faced and out of breath; she didn’t have the stamina for anything prolonged.

"Now, girlies," the man was saying, mightily amused with this display and planning to give his brother no end of teasing for letting the reddish-haired one get the better of him. "We won’t hurt’cha much if yer nice. We’ll just be takin’ ya over to the White Tiger for a quick sale, that’s all. Get us a good price fer ferriners like you!" He laughed again. His brother, groaning and complaining, got to his feet and stalked over to join the fun; now he was angry, too. He drew his short sword and aimed at Riaka.

A rock sailed out from nowhere, striking the first man on the back of the head.

"Stop it," someone said.

"What?" said several people at once. The slavers turned on the intruder, shouting and waving their swords. But the stranger was quick; evading their clumsy slashes and replying with lightning punches and kicks as a crimson symbol glowed on his forehead; the fight was over in three seconds. It was now the slavers’ turn to run away, cradling broken or disjointed limbs and whimpering.

He was a young man, not especially tall, but then, this was a version of ancient China supposedly. He had finely honed features and startlingly bright, silver-grey eyes. His body, under the somewhat well-worn and dusty calf-length tunic, was the lean, graceful form of a lifelong athlete. He turned toward them.

"Ladies," he said, smiling gently. "Are you all right?"

Luri and Riaka looked at each other. It was a good thing they were still breathing so hard; it kept them from laughing. I might have been more star-struck when I was fifteen, Riaka thought – and Luri could read the gist by her expression; she was thinking along the same lines herself. But, my, isn’t he impressed with himself!

"We’re fine," Luri managed, with a straight face. "Thank you."

The young man bowed slightly and held out a hand, palm up. "Money is a better way to express your thanks," he said. Luri and Riaka blinked. Riaka pointed at her own earrings, Luri nodded. No sense in losing Luri’s opals if they didn’t have to.

"Uh, okay." Riaka unfastened one of her earrings. She habitually wore the thicker piercing studs to keep the holes open and because she could leave them in for long periods without having to bother with them. But she was also wearing her favorite moonstone earrings that she’d bought on one of her and Luri’s previous vacations together. The earring she offered to the young man was one of the studs, standard gold plated, though she hoped he wouldn’t notice it wasn’t solid, with tiger-eye cabochons.

He inspected the earring with professionally feigned disinterest, then stared pointedly at the other four ornaments in Riaka’s ears. "There are two of you," he said.

"Oh, fine," Riaka sighed, while Luri snorted. Riaka gave him the matching earring, then crossed her arms and planted her feet firmly, lifting her chin to meet his silver eyes.

He stared back for a moment, then made a face; her left eye was obviously blind, hazy with a cataract, the iris dull grey and atrophied, the ball itself was turned toward her nose. Both of her eyes shook with nystagmus. Euugh! Freakish! the man thought, but, "A pleasure doing business with you, Ladies," he said. The other girl was certainly easy to look at, at least! Waves of dark golden hair, flawless blue-green eyes… But! He had more important matters to consider. "Good day to you!" He waved as he strode away.

"Wait!" Luri called, running after him. "Where are we?!"

As the man turned back, a red radiance enveloped Luri, sweeping her away before she could utter another word.

The wind blew. Dust swirled. Riaka and the man stared at the spot where Luri had been.

"Bloody…Hell," Riaka whispered. She was breathing hard again. She took a shaky step toward the man. "What…?"

"I don’t know!" he protested, waving his arms as if to fend her off.

"I figured that!" Riaka shouted back. "At least tell me where this is!" What am I gonna do now?!? She held placating hands up. "Please, help me find…" Where’d she go? Who or what took her? Why!?! Why not me too? Smeg!! "Look, what is this place called? Luri and I were just in this bookstore, reading some weird book and suddenly there’s this red light and everything’s inside out and then we’re out here in the middle of nowhere getting attacked by slimes with SWORDS fer cryin’ out loud!!" Get a grip! Get a grip! You can freak out later! Later, when you’re safe…if you’re ever safe…

The man backed away, then stopped. "Well…" He pointed at her moonstones then held out a hand.

"Shyah! As if!" Riaka reared back. He might just take them… "These are my favorites! Besides, I don’t exactly have any coin of the realm, do I; how am I supposed to buy food and stuff if you rob me of anything tradable right off the bat?"

"Rob?!" the man exclaimed. "Me? Rob? I never rob! I’m just a poor businessman trying to keep food in my mouth and shoes on my feet." He assumed a virtuous expression.

"And the law off your tail?" Riaka grinned. Heh. He’s like a cross between Silk and Robin Hood. Or something. I hate dickering, but if I get this right, he could save my butt! She wasn’t about to tell him about the three solid silver medallions she wore under her shirt.

"How about one of them," she said. "Hey, this is 99.5 sterling, and these are unusual rainbow moonstones. You don’t see this kind of silvery green tint in these every day."

The man considered. "Very well." I can get the other one easily enough; this girl doesn’t know how to bargain! "I am Xong Gui-Siu, but most people call me Tamahome. We are near the city of Eiyo; there might be someone there who can tell you what happened to your friend."

Riaka dropped the earring into his palm; he secreted it away in a pocket, then gallantly indicated their direction with a sweep of his arm. Riaka, willing to be relieved for the moment, fell into step with him. "I’m Riaka. My friend’s name is Luri."

"Where are you from, Riaka?" He would try to be friendly, though he had to admit he wished it had been the other one who had stayed. Oh well; the earring she had given him already was worth far more than she obviously had any idea of.

"Er, California," Riaka replied. "I…don’t exactly know how to describe where I’m from without knowing where I am now."

"Hm." Tamahome watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking all around them as they walked, not exactly nervously, but as though she were trying to observe everything as closely as she could. Her eyesight was probably poor in the other eye, too, though she had initially fought off the slaver with some skill. So, she was deformed, but interesting. "This is the Hongnan Prefecture of the Hongnan Empire. We are the South of the Four Lands."

"Four Lands, huh? Four Lands, Four Gods?"

"Ah, so you do know…"

"No, that was the name of the book we were reading. The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth. I think the book brought us here." Riaka bit her lips together. Maybe she shouldn’t explain too much. Except right now there was no one else…in for a penny…or an earring… So and so. South, he’d said. Southern China-ish. Do I really know anything about Asian geography? Not really. Beijing, Yellow and Yangtze Rivers, Mongolia, Japan, Korea, Viet Nam, that’s about it. And she still wasn’t sure if this was the Earth she knew just far back in time, or another world altogether. How convenient not to have a language problem, though. Maybe this is like de Camp and Pratt’s Misadventures of Harold Shea, and I just am perceiving this conversation as taking place in English rather than proto-Mandarin or whatever. She sighed. "California is a…Prefecture…on the western coast of my Land. Different continent. I think maybe different world…I don’t know."

"The red light?" Tamahome was intrigued despite himself. Something about her situation was tugging at his mind. And he was pretty sure she wasn’t making it up, either. That Luri girl had disappeared right in front of him. And this one’s clothing was certainly foreign enough. Light blue pants, a short tunic, buttoned down the front and painted all over with flowers. He’d never seen shoes like hers before either; the red-brown leather uppers were of a strange design, with a small buckle to one side; not entirely outré, but the soles must be made of something strange. She wore an odd sack around her waist, black leather with a woven strap, but the clasp was indecipherable, and there were small, serrated metal strips all over it, whose function he could only guess at. Even the tiny purple thong that bound the end of her hip-length braid was peculiar. Metal thread woven with…what? And wound around, but not tied as far as he could tell. She also wore a kind of black bracelet around her left wrist, with what looked to him like a rectangular gem of some kind set flush with the band, but again the material it was made of was a mystery. He definitely wanted a closer look at it sometime, though.

"I haven’t the foggiest," she answered with a shrug. "A red bird led us to the book, and when we started reading it, the red light brought us here." Is this the NeverEnding Story or Myst? Hmm! But what happened to Luri!?!!!

Tamahome almost stumbled in surprise. A red bird…? But… What if she… He mentally shook himself. For now his main concerns were helping her find her friend, and getting a good price for her jewelry.

They walked on in silence for a while. Tamahome pursuing dreams of avarice, Riaka lost in spirals of questions she didn’t even properly know how to ask yet.

"More input!" she thought. Perhaps best to fall back on her usual strategy: Watch and wait…

a d c b

Back in the Ta No Sekai Bookstore… Luri flailed for balance as she came to herself two inches above the floor and suddenly dropped to her feet. She was back in the dim chamber, the piles of her and Riaka’s desired books still intact. The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth lay open on the floor before her. She paced a tight circle around it, tapping her upper lip with a forefinger. She crouched down and stared at the text. She wasn’t sure she wanted to pick the book up just yet. "The two women tried to save themselves from the slave traders. Just as the slave traders raised their swords, a young man with the sign of the Ogre on his forehead appeared and drove them off."

Luri blinked. "What the…" There was even an illustration; a reproduction of perhaps a block-print; stylized, but still the form of the young man they’d met was recognizable, even to the clothing. "Sign of the Ogre? Is that good or bad?" It might depend on what the original Chinese word had been. She read on; of Riaka’s worry and consternation, and how she paid Tamahome to help her, and their walk to the city. She caught herself slipping again into the stream of the story and shook her head. She closed the book, using a finger to keep her place; she had ideas about what might be going on, but she wanted to read further and test them out somewhere a bit more comfortable. But if I go home, how will I explain where Riaka is? All right, maybe this is just a big joke; maybe she’s just outside somewhere nearby. That would be easy enough to check. Riaka wouldn’t have gone far; she couldn’t drive, and wasn’t familiar with BART; and it would be very unlike her to run off like that anyway. Riaka might be easily distracted by colorful or shiny objects, and might get herself left behind that way, but she would never deliberately ditch someone. She was far too afraid of getting lost herself.

Luri found a piece of scrap paper in her belt-pack and replaced her finger with it as her bookmark. She gathered up the other books she had wanted before, then hesitated over Riaka’s stack. No, I’ll get them for her and she can pay me back when she…when I see her again…however that may happen…

Riaka wasn’t in the bookstore. Luri made her purchases and lugged the large paper bag outside, looking up and down the street. Still no Riaka. She walked the few blocks to the parking structure where they’d left her car. She put the bag in the trunk, sat behind the wheel, closed the door and put the key in the ignition.

No. I’m not leaving her stranded in San Francisco. She’s in the book, and the book’s in the trunk. She’s still with me, sort of. But how was she going to explain…. Well, at least her father was in San Diego for a few more days at a convention. Her older brother was home, though. He would wonder. Maybe in the hour or so it would take her to get back to Sunnyvale she would think of a convincing story. Something about Riaka having to go home suddenly to Sacramento…

Luri settled herself in for a long read. She had all her pillows and blankets arranged to her satisfaction, a thermos full of her favorite green tea ready to hand, and the cats had already been fed. She had decided what she’d tell her brother about Riaka when he got home from work.

She opened the Book and began to read.

a d c b

After a while, the road rose up and went along the top of a levee. Riaka found this arrangement at least familiar, even if the road wasn’t paved. The river was wide and fairly clear, reminding her a bit of the American River back home. They were following a long, left-hand curve when the city came into view on their right. Whitewashed walls, golden tile on the upswept roofs, quite a few trees – and not just in obvious park areas. In the middle, on a slight rise, was the walled fortress portion, with the roofs of larger, grander buildings inside. The Forbidden City, Riaka thought. Or Carcassone. Well, medieval towns anywhere. I’m definitely not dreaming this. I don’t dream like this… She caught Tamahome watching her. She grinned.

"Lovely," she said. From here. Just wait till we get down into the open-sewered streets… He seemed pleased enough with this, almost proprietary. Riaka didn’t learn until much later that he had only just come to the city himself; to seek his fortune, of course.

Roughly across from where the main gates to the inner fortress seemed to be was a stone stairway that led down from the road into the city itself. Riaka was surrounded by the sights and smells and cheerful din of an open-air marketplace. She’d been to enough Renaissance faires and the like to find it both reassuring and bizarre. Bizarre because the situation was so familiar, but the details so alien. Rice and a few fruits and vegetables she could identify, but most of the foodstuffs she might have seen in the Oriental sections of some supermarkets, or maybe not. Cloth, leather goods, jewelry, pots and pottery; fine, and the style wasn’t too far out. Meats; live as often as not, and chopped bits hanging from posts and beams. She kept her hands on her fanny-pack and followed Tamahome as closely as possible.

As they passed a restaurant of sorts, Riaka found, to her dismay, that she was hungry. Oh dear. I don’t like Chinese food! Mexican or Italian sure, but… Oh well, it’s not like I can’t live off my fat for a month anyway. Tamahome seemed to have a destination in mind, though, so she ignored her intestinal rumblings and followed on.

As if sensing her thought, he glanced back at her and smiled. "I know a nice place a few more streets over. We can eat, and then I need to sell—"

"My earrings. Okay." Whatever. Hmm. Waitaminit. "Wait a sec, Tamahome. How much coin do you think I can get for this knife?" She fished around in her pack, then brought out a small Swiss Army knife.

"That’s a knife?" Tamahome looked dubious.

"Yeah, look; it folds. And there’s a little file, and scissors on the other side, and these are tweezers and a toothpick. And a handy little ring to hang it by. All stainless steel; won’t rust. Get me a good price and I’ll buy lunch."

Tamahome’s silver eyes were almost glowing. His long pony-tail whipped from side to side as he glanced around to make sure no one had noticed her gadget; he cupped his hands over the knife and drew her to one side. "Let me see that…" He examined it closely, then licked his lips. Wang Chi had told him to look up a particular merchant when he got to the city… "I know right where to take it," he said. He carefully watched Riaka fold all the little parts back into the housing of the blade, then she handed it to him. He pocketed it and grabbed her wrist, heading off at a near-run.

"Ack!" Riaka held on to her pack with her free hand and tried to keep up.

"You stay out here," he told her when they reached the merchant’s shop. "You’d just sour the deal."

"Thanks." She wasn’t keen on letting him out of her sight. He could ditch her easily, but he could have done that any time. Robbed her too, or worse. Maybe he just wanted to get some friends in on it. She didn’t think so, though. Something about him… So, she shrugged and leaned back against the sun-warmed wall.

Tamahome flashed a grin at her and disappeared inside.

Oh my. He is rather cute, isn’t he…And knows it, no doubt. She shuffled her feet, noticing they were a little sore now that she was just standing. Her soft-soled Dexter Maries were actually pretty good, though, as long as she wore socks, and she was used to being on her feet all day. Not used to running, though. Ouch, knees… She rubbed them briefly, then stretched, popping her back. A lot of other bruises and strains were making themselves felt as well; mostly from the altercation she and Luri had had with the slaver brothers. Propping one foot under her as she settled back against the wall, she looked around.

This seemed to be a fairly major avenue; wide, though still unpaved; crowded with neat shops and bustling people. So far, she’d noticed the streets were remarkably clean. No open sewers down the middle like in Europe. No litter to speak of. The people looked mostly well-fed and happy. Busy with their lives, friendly to each other; not worried about what the government was doing or impending war or anything like that. No signs of plague. That’s a plus, but can I drink the water? She shook her head. No choice. Or maybe she’d stick to tea. What do I know about ancient Chinese history? Besides from Big Trouble in Little China… They invented almost everything before the Europeans, but I don’t know when, exactly. And for all I know this may not even quite be the same ancient China. Hongnan Empire. Hongnan could be; Honen, Hunan, etc. Empire? They weren’t an empire till all the little kingdoms were united ["…in 272 BC…" –grin]. But they could call themselves empire…delusions of empire….the Empire Strikes Back. Again she had too many questions and not enough data to even form useful hypotheses yet. There was a flower stall across the street; she decided to browse there for a few minutes, since it seemed Tamahome was going to take a while, still. She could keep an eye on the doorway for him, and be within sight herself if…when he came out.

The flower stall keeper gave her a skeptical once-over then ignored her. One corner of her mouth crooked up as she bent over to smell a container of what looked like peonies, or maybe roses. Not roses. And roses didn’t get their cabbage-forms until long after the Europeans got to them in the Middle Ages. Were those mums? Poppies; well, duh. Magnolias; interesting; they wouldn’t last long cut, especially if the petals were touched. Tall spiky things that looked like delphiniums but probably weren’t. Compositae. She’d had a couple of botany classes and was a gardener; so she found she could identify some of the flower types, but generally not the species. It was definitely Spring, though. She at least knew that much now. Intriguing; the seasons matched; it was Spring back in San Fran, too…

"Excuse me, Lady?"

Riaka jumped. A young man – younger-looking than Tamahome, though she wasn’t good at judging ages – stood at her left elbow, bowing slightly, smiling like a friendly Golden Retriever. Riaka backed a step. "Yes?"

"Pardon me, but, were you looking for something in particular?"

"Er, no, just looking. Waiting for a friend."

"Ah. But, please, you should see; my aged mother sells the most exotic and wonderful flowers! Just a street over, not far at all; I promise you won’t have seen anything like them!"

I bet. "No, thank you."

The youth continued to harangue her for a few moments; Riaka was about to retreat in after Tamahome, deal or no deal, when the youth appeared to give up and walked serenely away. Riaka went back to her wall anyway, nervous. She had a much larger pocket knife still in her pack; she called it her "MacGyver" knife. Even it was more tool than weapon, though. She wished she at least had one of her daggers…. But, no; really the only kind of combat she had any training in, however slight, was unarmed. A blue belt in Jujitsu was nice, but nothing like a black belt! C’mon, Tamahome, get your butt out here!

A group of young men and boys – including the youth who’d tried to sell her on his mother’s flowers – came boisterous around the corner; jostling and joking their way toward her.

Riaka set her feet just a bit wider than shoulder-width and crossed her arms lightly over her chest. She watched them from the corner of her eye, but kept her head turned slightly away. Shit, shit, shit, shit…

"There you are, sis!" the young man from before called to her as they came closer. "Come on! We’re going over to the Black Pool for food!" The group spread out; she could run and lose Tamahome or stay put and be cornered. "Don’t be shy, sis; you know my friends…"

Someone laid a hand on her arm. She turned a squeak into a kiai and hauled her arm in a circle, breaking the grip. "Leave me alone!" she snarled, batting at another hand reaching for her. The boys laughed.

Down the street, there was a stirring in the crowds.

Another boy tugged at her fanny-pack; she punched him in the stomach – a target so large even she couldn’t miss. The boy doubled over amid hoots and lewd jokes, and then the melee began.

Within the shop of Lo Pan, the dealer in exotic goods of peculiar quality, Tamahome closed the deal to the satisfaction of both himself and Lo, and strung the resultant coins onto a red cord Lo had generously provided at a minimal extra charge. The hair on the back of his neck lifted seconds before he heard a female kiai from outside.

The crowd avoided the gang like a school of fish avoiding sea lions; keenly aware but trying to ignore, swirling at a safe distance before settling back into the intended course beyond the danger.

Down the street, at a stately pace, a procession came closer; people automatically making way…

Tamahome dashed out with only the barest of farewells to Lo, squinting against the bright sunlight, to find Riaka surrounded and flailing. He stood still a moment, taking this in. She wasn’t landing many punches, but her kicks were good more often than not, and it looked like none of the six youths could get a grip on her for long; someone had taught her the trick of hold-breaking, though the style was like nothing he’d ever seen before. And Tamahome knew a lot about fighting.

He waded in, shouting, the sign of the Oni blazing to life on his forehead. The gang shifted focus, perceiving the actual threat.

Closer came the procession; banner-bearers, a handful of mounted guards, more on foot, and in the center an elaborate palanquin borne on the shoulders of twelve burly men, all clothed in the finery of honor. Bright fabrics and feathers, the gleam of gold, shining swords and polearms; the array was nearly blinding. The crowd, lined up now to either side, cheered and waved at the dimly seen figure behind the veils of the palanquin.

Riaka suddenly found herself facing only one opponent. He grabbed her upper arms, meaning to push her up against the wall. Her body, finding itself in a familiar position, took over and let him push. Right hand grasped the boy’s shirt where a lapel on a gi would’ve been. Left hand held the boy’s sleeve below his right elbow. Legs gave a little jump. Right foot set itself against the boy’s left hip, left foot stepped between his legs and knees bent as body sat down and rolled back; going with the motion the boy himself had begun, but now had no control over. [Riaka’s conscious mind, rather cut off from all this, and too slow for it anyway, said, "Tomoe Nage -- well I’ll be damned!"] Voice was almost more continuous scream than kiai, but the boy sailed over and slammed hard against the wall, crumpling headfirst in an uncomfortable heap.

In the palanquin; a voice, melodious baritone. "Why is there a man flying through the air?"

The nearest minion craned his neck and answered, "It appears a woman threw him, Imperial Majesty."

"A woman?"

"Yes, Imperial Majesty."

People schooled away as guards detached from the procession and marched on what was left of the fight. Tamahome elbowed the last of his opponents in the face and spotted the guards.

"Riaka!" He leapt over unconscious bodies towards her. Riaka was crouched beside the boy she’d thrown, checking for a pulse; finding one, she stood. Tamahome grabbed her by the hand and led her at a flying run toward the nearest alley. But another set of guards intercepted them; spear tips reflected the sun, caging them. Riaka almost didn’t stop in time. Tamahome growled.

"Foolish man!" one spearman cried, poising his weapon to strike. "Prepare to—"

Crimson light flared, pouring from Riaka like a beacon. She cried out, the guards stumbled back, Tamahome flinched away, shielding his eyes, but held fast to her hand. But Riaka was fading, between one heartbeat and the next, there was nothing to hold on to…

"The female is disappearing!"

"She must be a witch! Protect the Emperor!"

"Take them both…"

Riaka rode the tide of light – will-she, nil-she – spiraling out and down, the wave broke into droplets…or were they rose petals…or carmine feathers? Single helix through the spangled darkness, then grey clouds, a dim shadow of a world, a familiar house; within, a room, a figure reading, swathed in blankets and cats… "Luri!" She’s back in our world, reading the book! I wonder if she has to…. "Luri! I see you! I’m okay!" Oh, but she probably knows that…Back in our world; I can get back…but... Riaka reached out but couldn’t touch down…the connection slipped…she snapped back to the street in Eiyo and staggered into Tamahome, almost knocking him over as she regained solidity, the light winking out. The guards pounced.

The two were unceremoniously thrown into a cell by silent wardens. A single guard with a polearm remained by the outer door and the only torch. Counting flights of steps on their way down, Riaka guessed they were perhaps two levels underground. The walls were enormous blocks of hard stone, with not enough mortar between to make chipping at worthwhile. The door of their cell was of closely spaced wooden beams in a grid. At least there were no standing puddles, or piles of insect-ridden filth, or rotting skeletons. Riaka kept pointing these things out to herself.

It could be worse…it could be much worse. There’s even a chamber-pot in here. They didn’t beat us up first. Yeah, they’ll get to that later… She had heard someone shouting "witch" back at the street, and now she found she knew altogether too much about the Burning Times; the Witch Craze and the Inquisition. She thought her greatest fear was to be burned alive; she fought not to think about all the other methods of torture she’d read of or learned about via documentaries about the 14^th and 15^th centuries. This is long before then, and not Europe! No, but it’s some kind of China; bamboo under the fingernails. And they beheaded people by burying them up to the neck and doing an Arnold Palmer number on them! Or rode horses over. Terrific…

The detached part of her mind was interested to note that she couldn’t stop shaking, and her face was cold and bloodless. She was sweating and clammy; her breath came in gasps but she couldn’t seem to get enough air. Is this terror? It’s worse than nightmares, worse than watching Jaws when I was nine…What next?

A hand touched her shoulder. She sprang away –as far as she could in the small space – stifling a shriek. If I start screaming now, it’ll definitely get out of hand…

"Sssh, hey…easy, girl, it’s all right…easy now…you’re all right… " Tamahome approached more carefully this time, holding his hands up and speaking nonsense in a low, soothing voice.

He sounds like Dr. Ferguson trying to gentle a horse. The image was sufficiently incongruous Riaka nearly laughed. No, that’s as sure a path to panic as screaming….

"I’m all right," she managed, after a deep breath and an effort of will. It’s not safe to fall apart yet, stupid; just pull yourself together. Think like an amoeba…

No, you’re not, Tamahome thought. He wasn’t thrilled about the situation, but to her it must seem she’d run from one attack to another, and another. He’d hate to see one of his little sisters in Riaka’s shoes, but the otherworld girl didn’t seem to want to be comforted like his sisters would. Even in the dimness, her face was easy to read. It was almost fascinating – and painful – to watch her struggle with and swallow her fear.

"I’m sorry for dragging you into this," she said, settling down in the darkest corner of the cell. She rested her arms on her drawn up knees and leaned her head back against the cool stone of the wall, not looking at him.

Tamahome snorted. "I make my own choices."

"Ah."

She had settled too quickly into this calm, he thought, not sure which state alarmed him more. He cast about for a subject of conversation and found the string of coins he’d gotten for her from Lo Pan. "Hey," he said, holding them out to her. "Here. You still owe me lunch."

She tried to smile at him as she took the string. It was just a baring of the teeth; she bit her lips and took another deep breath to still a shudder. "Thanks." She swung the string idly, then held it up, frowning. "They didn’t take any of our stuff."

"Hm?"

"They let us keep our belongings. Isn’t that kind of…weird?"

Tamahome had no idea. But something was strange. He’d never heard of the Emperor having people arrested off the street and thrown directly into his own dungeons before. In fact, he didn’t think the Imperial Dungeons had been used at all in recent years. A fight like they’d been in would have been handled by the guards and the city peacekeepers and they and the gang would have gone to the city prison to sort things out. What was going on? However, speaking of weird…. "What was that red light coming out of your body?"

"Beats the hell outta me. Oh!" Riaka straightened her legs and let her hands fall into her lap. "I saw Luri! She’s back in our own world. But I couldn’t get back, myself…I sort of missed the trajectory or something."

Tra-what? Tamahome shook his head. "What?"

"I don’t know any of this for sure, but Luri seems to have been sent back; she’s at home, reading the Book. Maybe because someone has to be reading it for all this stuff to work, I dunno."

"And you couldn’t get back."

"No." Is the book the world, or is it just the gate? Riaka suspected the latter, but how could one tell? Did it matter?

Tamahome thought about how he would feel if he were trapped in a strange place and couldn’t get back to the people and places he knew and cared about. He decided Riaka was definitely taking all this just a bit too calmly, but had no idea what he could do to help her – besides get her out of this cell. What could he say to someone so lost?

a d c b

Time crawled. Riaka wished she had made some kind of estimate of the time between her watch and the sun, but she hadn’t thought of it. She had been very hungry for a while, but it had passed. She used the chamber pot while Tamahome – and the guard, interestingly – studiously ignored her, Tamahome even whistling loudly to drown out the sound. She used a Kleenex out of her pack as TP. Afterward, Tamahome availed himself of the facility as well, shoving the pot farther into its corner, then joining Riaka in the opposite corner.

The coolness of the stone walls and floor became colder to them. Blanketless, they huddled together on the floor, away from the chill radiating from the walls. After some awkward and apologetic squirming, they found a position where they balanced and held each other up. Riaka didn’t expect to sleep, even after the day she’d had, but she did.

She dreamed. Great columns and arches of stone loomed around her at impossible angles. Someone showed her a glass sphere with an ocean inside it, saying, "You didn’t want this, so you get the other choice." The sphere was withdrawn; a torch was thrown at her. She flung up her arms and leapt away, but her foot slipped and she found she was atop one of the towering columns as she slid off the edge. But instead of jolting her awake – as such missteps usually did – she fell, trapped in the dream until the rocky ground struck her awake.

Tamahome’s arms tightened around her as she screamed and thrashed; he murmured nonsense again to her until she came fully to her senses. She slumped against him, shuddering once. She rubbed her eyes; the contact lens in the right eye was messed up, but she wasn’t about to take it out. She didn’t have any fluids for it with her, either.

"That was some nightmare," he said.

"You’re not kidding," she agreed. Dreamscape was wrong. Or maybe I just have a good enough heart. Bloody Hell! What happened to my dream-safety? After a series of nightmares in childhood, she had built into her dreaming mind a kind of circuit breaker; she always woke up before a dream got too close to being a nightmare. It was the only extent to which she could reliably lucid dream.

She looked at the guard. He had watched her outburst impassively, but was now back at some kind of parade rest. She met Tamahome’s eyes and inclined her head very slightly at the guard. The torch had burned down noticeably. They needed to wait for a little while so the guard would be bored again, but they couldn’t wait for morning. The chances of someone coming to check on them would be much greater then. They settled again and pretended to doze off.

Riaka counted 500 heartbeats, then tapped the small of Tamahome’s back. She stood up, stretching and yawning, then looked at her watch. She pushed a small button and the digital face lit eerily blue.

"Hey!" said the guard. "What are you doing, there?" The keys were on a ring hooked to his broad leather belt. He took the torch out of its sconce and approached the cell door. Riaka flashed the Indiglo on and off. "What is that? Let me see what you’re doing. It better not be a spell, witch!" Riaka turned her wrist so the guard could see the face clearly as she pushed the button. The guard peered between the wooden bars at the little blue rectangle…

Tamahome’s fist struck with deft precision. The guard crumpled without a sound, and Tamahome caught at his belt just long enough to snag the keys. The torch sputtered and threw sparks as it hit the floor, but didn’t go out.

"Nice work, kid," Tamahome said as he tried the keys one by one in the lock.

"Hey, I was just the decoy." Kid? How old does he think I am?

The right key found – the last on the ring as luck would have it – the lock snicked open and they were free. Riaka dragged the guard into the cell, then came out and shut the door.

"Good idea," said Tamahome, setting the torch back in its sconce. He locked the cell door. He hefted the keys a moment, then left them dangling from a protrusion of the sconce. He was fairly certain they wouldn’t need them to get out.

They found their way to the upper levels. The palace seemed nearly deserted. Riaka decided it must be later than she’d thought. Still, they darted from doorway to doorway, listening keenly and hoping not to get too lost. The building was bigger than it looked from the outside –It’s a TARDIS, Riaka thought, grinning – and layered with generations of added wings, expansions and remodeling. Riaka wished her shoes didn’t clomp so, but she didn’t want to take them off, in case they reached the outside and had to run.

At one intersection they heard marching feet approaching. Tamahome started down one corridor but Riaka started down another. Tamahome grabbed her braid and swung her around; Riaka had had this sort of thing done to her before, so she made no protest as they raced down the hall. But the approaching footsteps turned the corner after them. They took a chance and ducked into a dark room, shutting the door behind them. Riaka stayed with ear to the door as Tamahome belatedly scouted the room.

"Riaka. Look."

"Hmm?" Riaka turned. Near the far wall, a rampant, golden statue glittered dimly, wings unfurled and lifting toward the ceiling, tail streaming through stylized clouds. A lit brazier smoldered at its base, scenting the room with strange herbs and lending a mysterious aura with its smoke. "Oh! Hey, that’s the bird that led us to the Book."

"This is Suzaku. It’s a protector; one of four Deities. The protector of the east is ‘Seiryuu’. The protector of the north is ‘Gembu’. The one that protects the west is ‘Byakko’. And ‘Suzaku’ protects the south; Hongnan Country. Of course the other three Deities are worshipped in their countries as well."

Four gods, four lands; north south east west – earth fire air and water, too? I wonder… "So what are the Seven Seishi?"

"They’re the const—sshh!" Tamahome held up a hand.

Voices approached, passed by, receded. "I’ll explain later; come on."

Once more into the labyrinthine halls and passages. At last they found a way leading outside, dawn was coloring the sky in delicate pastels, but it turned out merely to be an enclosed courtyard. It looked like there was a breezeway on the opposite side, though, and that might go in the direction they wanted.

They started across, keeping to the perimeter, walking quickly, trying to look like they were on official, but urgent business.

Someone giggled.

Riaka and Tamahome froze.

"What’s wrong? You’re lost, aren’t you." Sitting on the railing of what Riaka would call a porch, a figure with long, black hair, swathed in pale silk raised an arm and pointed. "There’s a gate, you can get out through it."

"Um," said Riaka intelligently. "Right." She and Tamahome sidled toward the indicated direction.

"Are you the ones who were arrested?"

Riaka and Tamahome froze again.

"You are, aren’t you. I heard you were impolite in front of the Emperor."

That’s an interesting way to put it, Riaka thought.

"We meant no disrespect," Tamahome said. "We were just defending ourselves."

"It’s all right," said the figure, waving a manicured hand. "I’m on your side. I won’t turn you in to the soldiers, so don’t worry."

Oh, great, thought Riaka. Now what? Make a break for it or hang out and chat with the drag queen? Tamahome was gazing longingly at the gate they could now see was behind them in a corner to their left. But Riaka had a strong suspicion something more was going on; their escape had thus far been ridiculously easy.

"Thank you," she said, bowing, though she didn’t know if that was the thing to do in China as in Japan. "But…who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"I am Hotohori, though I am not always called that."

"I’m Riaka, and this is Tamahome." Hotohori blinked golden eyes at the latter, but merely inclined his lovely head. "Er, Hotohori, I’m sort of…well, actually I’m really lost. I’ve hired Tamahome to help me, but…" What was she trying to ask? Riaka ran a hand through her bangs. "How to get back to my world?" she muttered under her breath. Not that this world wasn’t interesting, but she’d gone thirty-plus years in California without ever having a run-in with gangs or other aggressive males, and here she’d been in this realm less than 24 hours and been assaulted on two – or three, counting the Imperial Stormtroopers here – different occasions.

"Your world?" said Hotohori, gliding down from his perch and approaching her. "Do you mean that you do not come from this land at all, but from a completely different world?"

Riaka made a face. Oops. Now he thinks I’m bonkers. Wait. Tamahome didn’t blink much at that, and Pricilla, Queen of the Desert, here, looks more interested than anything else. What’s going on? "Well, um, I think that’s what’s happened, anyway."

"Oh!" exclaimed Hotohori, clapping his hands. "But it’s wonderful! How fascinating! You must tell me all about your world." He took her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes, flinching slightly at the turned-in left one. Riaka forced herself not to jerk away; despite his manner, there was some vague hint of power about him. "And I want to learn all about you as well." Hotohori murmured. Riaka felt herself actually blush.

"What is wrong?" Hotohori asked gently.

"Oh, nothing!" Riaka said brightly. He’s beautiful, she thought, but he really needs to lose that lipstick…

Running feet and shouting echoed across the courtyard.

"Quick, hide!" Hotohori bustled Riaka behind a thick column; Tamahome took the next one down. Guards trooped into view, splitting into what were obviously search parties. Four came their way.

The three shifted around the columns as the four neared. But a flutter of Hotohori’s silk betrayed them; the last guard in the line turned just enough to see it and shouted the alarm. Tamahome swore and made a dash for the nearest door, Riaka not far behind. The guards pursued. Riaka, not in the best of shape, even in better conditions, was operating on little sleep and low blood sugar; she lost Tamahome almost immediately in the twists and turns of the palace. And the guards caught up with her all too easily. She was grabbed roughly from behind, her right arm forced up behind her back.

"A-ah! Not that shoulder!" she cried. "Not that shoulder!" She danced up on her toes, resisting the hold as much as she could.

"Leave her alone!" The Oni symbol flared. Tamahome leapt at them. Riaka dropped and covered as the guard released her to face – however briefly – Tamahome. Golden eyes peering around a corner widened again in surprise.

"STOP THIS AT ONCE!!!"

The two guards still conscious froze at the familiar voice.

"Your…your Imperial Majesty!" one stammered; they both prostrated themselves before their Emperor. Hotohori stood before them, his coquettish manner vanished.

Riaka looked up and blinked.

"They are not to be harmed without my explicit command, is that understood?"

"Yes, Imperial Majesty!"

Tamahome was nonplussed. "You’re the Emperor?"

Hotohori nodded, smiling.

"The real one?"

"I am."

Tamahome jumped at the floor, kowtowing. "Your Majesty!"

Riaka sighed and stayed where she was. Thought so…

Tired and bedraggled as they were, Riaka and Tamahome were brought to the Great Hall. They knelt on a scarlet carpet several paces back from the foot of a set of steps leading up to the dais, where Hotohori, now in formal, Imperial garb –his hair tucked neatly up under an elaborate little cap – was ensconced upon his throne.

Hotohori regarded them with an unreadable expression for several long minutes. Riaka tried not to squirm, but her feet were falling asleep, her knees were bruised and sore, and she was suddenly very hungry again.

Hotohori glanced at an aide. "Bring Commander Chen."

"Yes, Imperial Majesty."

Commander Chen entered promptly; the soldier who had guarded Riaka and Tamahome’s cell. A bruise was spreading across his left temple, but he seemed otherwise unaffected. Tamahome’s face went noticeably pale.

"Your report, Commander," said the Emperor.

"Sire. All went as you predicted. The prisoners attempted to escape shortly before dawn. They could have killed me easily, but they did not, leaving me locked in their cell instead. They have stolen nothing and harmed no others until their recapture in your presence, Sire."

"Well done, Commander."

"Imperial Majesty." Chen bowed and withdrew.

"Riaka, Tamahome," said the Emperor, "I regret having to deceive you, but I wished to know you better. You are not witches or monsters."

Riaka and Tamahome held their breaths.

"So, you will not be harmed."

They sighed in relief but sat up straighter.

"But, Riaka, I must ask of you a favor. Will you help Hongnan? According to ancient tradition, when the country is faced with extinction, a girl appears from another world. The girl will possess the power of Suzaku and the people will follow her."

Riaka sat back, aghast. Jeeze! No pressure! How am I supposed to answer something like that? And will I be beheaded for refusing? Stall for time! "Emperor," she said. "If the choice is truly mine, then I must, ah, would like to know more about what it is exactly I must do."

The Emperor blinked. But Ching Dai, his First Advisor, smiled.

"Of course the choice is yours, Riaka," Hotohori assured her. "Bring The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth." To Riaka he explained, "This book was given to Taiso, the first Hongnan Emperor, by Tai Yi-Jun, the one who manages this world. It reveals the legend, and gives directions for summoning Suzaku."

Ching Dai motioned an underling to bring the scroll up to the Emperor’s hand. What Hotohori read from the scroll was almost verbatim the beginning of the Book Riaka and Luri had been led to. By Suzaku itself, Riaka was beginning to suspect, or an aspect of Suzaku. Riaka also felt it was likely she was here at all for this very purpose, and refusing would not be a good idea, whether Hotohori penalized her for it or not. She’d read enough mythology to know that running from the gods, or destiny or whatever, never worked and only made harder the tasks you’d end up having to do anyway.

"Just to be clear on this," she said finally. "I don’t have to call the god by being placed on an altar and having my still-beating heart cut from my body or anything messy like that, right? I’m sorry, but I’m really not into virgin sacrifices, thank you."

Emperor, advisors and courtiers all stared at her.

"What kind of world do you come from?" Hotohori asked softly, now thinking he might be afraid of the answer.

"As far as we can tell from ancient records, the previous Miko returned to her world intact," said Ching Dai.

Interesting, Riaka thought. So, I’m not trapped here, either. A Miko is a kind of conduit, then, and when the danger is past, she’s no longer needed and goes home. Huh. There was a definite connotation of virginity in the word "Miko", she noticed. That’s all right, I more or less qualify… She stood – wobbling on feet she couldn’t feel – and bowed, using the form she’d been taught at the dojo, not knowing anything better. "Very well, then, I accept." Oh, goddess! What have I done?!!

The Emperor smiled, and inclined his head. "Thank you," he said, pitching his voice so only she heard him clearly. He stood and gestured grandly. "All, give her your respect!" The courtiers and advisors, even Ching Dai, went down on their knees and bowed to her. Even Tamahome stayed on his knees, though he at least looked up at her. She wasn’t sure what to make of his expression, though. A curtain was drawn aside, revealing a wide door open to the outside. Rows upon rows – thousands? -- of people crouched on the flagstones. "She is the one who will possess the power of Suzaku. She is our country’s protector, Suzaku No Miko!"

What is this, Tiananmen Square? Riaka thought, and shuddered. Oh, hells…couldn’t I have a bath first?

A bath she did have, later, in a suitably imperial bathing room, with golden columns and marble floors and red-painted walls. She managed to convey to the attendants, without alarming them too much, that she was accustomed and preferred to bathe alone. The water was deliciously hot and fragrant, and silk robes awaited her when she emerged. Her own clothes were taken away to be washed, she hoped not just burned or something. Tamahome had been taken to a different area, she was assured, and treated with almost equal respect; he was under the Emperor’s aegis, as Riaka’s protector. Now the maidservants returned and helped her with the robes, and did up her hip-length, hennaed-auburn hair; exclaiming over this last with some admiration. Then they led her to a corner suite of rooms –not far from the Emperor’s own apartments, her maids told her – with direct access to one of the gardens. Riaka would be exploring those gardens at the earliest opportunity…

The meal – brunch, she supposed – laid at the table in what were to become her rooms was elaborate and varied, and she was hungry enough to ignore the fact that she couldn’t identify half of it. The liquor provided she also ignored, and asked for spring water instead, hoping it wasn’t too much trouble to come by. Might as well get the Montezuma’s Revenge over with as soon as possible, since I’m going to be here for a while.

As soon as she had finished her meal, she was summoned again, this time to a different hall, for her initiation. This turned out to be the room she and Tamahome had stumbled into during their attempted escape, with the golden statue, now lit by full day and many lanterns. The brazier now flamed openly, and the statue of Suzaku shone blindingly. The room was perhaps half full of what Riaka supposed were priests and acolytes; all male she noticed with some dismay, until she found a phalanx of priestesses forming around herself; My own honor guard, eh?

"We will guide you and help you through the ceremony," the eldest of these whispered to her with a motherly smile. "It’s actually fairly simple; do not worry, Miko, no harm will come to you."

"Thank you," Riaka whispered back, finding that her hands were indeed shaking, and glad the sleeves of her under-robe trailed far below them.

Her little procession led Riaka down a central aisle, toward golden Suzaku. The priests began to chant. Here comes the bride…oh dear. Precession of the Equinoxes, too, oh my… Tamahome, -- splendidly arrayed now in midnight blue silk with cloth-of-gold at collar and cuffs, -- and Hotohori – in a slightly more crimson version of his Imperial regalia – flanked the brazier and smiled at her. She thought Tamahome winked, but her contact lens was blurring again so she wasn’t certain. She was handed a golden chalice and cued to drink. It didn’t taste like water, not unpleasant, just not identifiable. The chanting grew louder, deeper, thrumming in her bones. Smoke from the fire stung her eyes, she could feel it in her lungs. Two priestesses took her hands and brought her closer to the flames. The heat lulled her, wrapped around her like a blessing, quieting the chatter that usually spun through her conscious mind. Closer. The flames roared upward. A tiny voice inside her shrieked in alarm, but was gently closed away in its own little padded room. Closer. The priestesses held her arms toward the fire as if in an embrace. Riaka gazed into the center of the flames, bespelled by the beauty she found there; golden architectures of fire, rainbows leaping up, ribbons, rivers, tresses, hearts of mountains, of the world…of the sun… The priestesses held her, and joined her in the flames, and none were burned.

"Brigid!" Riaka cried out. "Pele!! SUZAKU!!!"

The fire before the statue sparked and flared, then subsided into the brazier, even as the carven ruby eyes of the statue blazed to life.

"Accepted," the priests all sang together, quietly, with great satisfaction.

Riaka blinked and shook herself. She was unmarked, physically. She looked at Tamahome and Hotohori; they met her gaze with happiness and not a little wonder. She could see the character glowing softly on Tamahome’s forehead; another on the left side of Hotohori’s neck. Oni and Sea Snake. Dimly she acknowledged that whatever magic enabled her to speak and understand the spoken language was letting her read it too.

The priestesses led her back to her rooms. "The sun is still high," said the eldest. "But you are weary. Sleep as long as you need to, someone will see to you if you require anything." She and the others bowed out. A maid came forward from an unobtrusive door and helped Riaka rid herself of the intricate hairdo, and the royal robes. A simple linen garment served as a nightgown, and Riaka slid gratefully into the curtained and canopied featherbed. Used to a firm mattress, it would take some time for her to get used to such a soft cushion, but right then she was too tired to care; she hadn’t slept properly for almost forty-eight hours. Dozing in the dungeon hardly counted.

a d c b

She slept till late the next morning. After a surreal moment, she remembered where she was and sat up. Her dreams had been sufficiently unpleasant she decided to ignore them. She yawned and stretched, cataloging a list of bruises and sore spots as she did so. She was going to have to take her contact lens out and rinse it off; there were no cleansing or wetting solutions for a gas-permeable lens here, so she’d just have to make do. Her uncorrected vision was far to poor to do anything else.

"You’re awake, finally," Tamahome said from the open door.

"Hey," Riaka said, voice muzzy. She cleared her throat. "Obviously knocking before entering hasn’t been invented yet. Or are you just congenitally nosy?"

"Nice." Tamahome sauntered in and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Impertinent, too," Riaka murmured, but she scooted over to make room. The bed was actually California King –or Emperor, rather -- size, but she was used to a twin and out of habit slept close to the edge.

"I just came in to make sure you were okay."

"Oh?"

"The Emperor is worried about you, too."

"Really. I’m fine. Where’s breakfast, or did I miss it?" She cast about for her watch, then remembered it wasn’t exactly set to local time. So, am I dimension-lagged, or what? Ugh. And what do they consider breakfast? Rice, and…?

Tamahome grinned at an exiting maidservant. "Looks like your breakfast is right here." He pointed at a small table, where a tray was set with, she’d guessed it, rice and various other things. Riaka groaned.

"I wonder if they’d be offended if I taught one of the cooks how to make pancakes or toast," she sighed. "Oh well." She’d lost her enthusiasm for getting out of bed, though.

"You’re news all over the country," Tamahome said.

"Already?"

"People are excited; Suzaku no Miko has come. And thanks to you I get to stay in this incredible palace!"

Riaka chuckled. "You’re welcome, I think." Oh lord, I hope he’s not part Kender…! She stared again at her breakfast tray and sighed. She kicked free of the bedclothes and slid past Tamahome off the bed. The drop was shorter than she was used to, though and she stumbled. Tamahome reached out to steady her, but she caught herself and shuffled over to the table, sitting down and tackling the rice first. She could fill up on that and pick at the rest. At least I already know how to use chopsticks. And I need to lose weight anyway. After a few moments of rice-shoveling, she gestured at the other chair. "Tamahome?"

"I’ve already eaten. It’s almost midday, sleepyhead."

"Mm. So what do we have to do today?" She gave up on the rice in favor of a bowl of fruit, which at least was more breakfast-like to her Western mind. They’d given her a carafe of water this time, too.

"We’ll have to ask the Emperor or someone. I’ve been out exploring all morning; my rooms are down the outside corridor to the left and around the corner. The gardens around here are beautiful. Probably you should start looking for the other Seishi as soon as possible."

"Fine, now get outta here so I can get dressed." And take a pee! There was a privy in her quarters, she’d already found earlier. With actual plumbing, it appeared; the seat was tiled and reasonably comfortable, if cold, but there was no toilet paper. She hoped the shallow basin she’d found in an appropriate place was indeed a bidet…

Tamahome let her push him toward the door. "Are you sure you’re all right?" he asked softly, brows knit.

"I’m all right." She pushed him over the threshold. "Go find Hotohori. I’ll be out in a few minutes." She latched the door closed.

Riaka, dressed in the clothes she’d found laid out for her, Good thing I look good in this kind of red, I guess, found Tamahome and the Emperor in Hotohori’s antechamber, already going over the scroll of The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth.

"Finding the Seishi is the first task of the Suzaku No Miko," Hotohori was saying. "But Ching Dai suggested we try the simplest way before sending Riaka out in quest."

"Morning," Riaka said as a servant or majordomo or whatever bowed her into the Imperial Presence.

"Not any more," Tamahome jibed. Riaka stuck her tongue out at him, realizing too late that the gesture might mean something completely different than what she intended. Fortunately, it seemed to translate just fine, as Tamahome grinned back. Hotohori frowned at them mildly, and nodded at Riaka.

"I am glad to see you well," he said. "I have many duties and so I could not be with you myself until now; I am sorry."

"Oh, uh, well, you are the Emperor," Riaka replied, gesturing roundly with her hands. "Don’t worry about me; I’m not used to so much attention anyway. What’s your ‘simplest way’?"

"One of the clues given in The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth for finding the Seishi is "Palace" and "Strength". So we will gather all the soldiers of the Palace; we will then test them to see if any are of the Suzaku Seishi."

Riaka found something that looked like a chair, though it could just as easily have been a small table, behind her and sat down. "Test them how?"

"The characters don’t appear at will," Tamahome explained. "They might not even know they carry the mark. So we’ll test them by fire, so to speak -- combat." He smiled wickedly and cracked his knuckles.

"Trial by crisis and observation," Riaka said, nodding. And the Kwisatz Haderach…? "Okay. So what are the Seishi anyway?"

Hotohori explained. "The four gods are actually twenty-eight constellations, or Lunar Mansions – Hsiu – divided by East, West, North and South; each having seven. Ours, Suzaku, is in the Southern sky. Its seven constellations are: Chichiri, Tamahome, Nuriko, Hotohori, Chiriko, Tasuki, Mitsukake. These are Suzaku’s seven Seishi."

"Did you two know you’d been named for the constellations?"

Tamahome and Hotohori both nodded. "Of course," Hotohori said.

"Ah." So I wasn’t much of a surprise, then. Riaka decided that actually made her feel better; at least someone knew what they were doing. "How long is this going to take?"

"The assembly should be complete by the end of a tenday." There were several men who were denizens of the Palace but out on various duties at the moment, and they were being recalled. Hotohori gazed at the scroll for a moment. The events he’d been waiting for since childhood were finally coming to pass. He wanted to run singing through the palace, but he had had long practice at suppressing such desires. "Until then, Riaka, Tamahome, you are welcome and have freedom of the Palace and grounds." Perhaps he would have time to join them, after all, these were ones to whom he was entrusting the safety of all his wide Country; he still wished to know them better. Especially Suzaku No Miko…

Riaka stood, knowing a dismissal when she heard one. She and Tamahome bowed and left the Emperor. Hotohori gazed into his mirror as Ching Dai ushered in his bevy of ministers and advisors, and sighed.

"Gardens!" Riaka enthused, barreling down what she thought was the right corridor. Tamahome grabbed her braid and swung her around.

"This way," he said. "Now I know why you have your hair like that."

The Palace grounds were as extensive as Riaka could wish; it would take her many days to explore it thoroughly. Tamahome was her guide at first, but he found she persisted in wandering off, her eye caught by some bright patch of flowers or unusual composition. He left her to her own devices, then, sure she would be safe within the Imperial compound.

Riaka wandered the gardens, following the paths and bridges through groves and around lakes and ponds; finding small shrines and pavilions both intimate and grand. Without a map, she was more or less lost, but she knew someone would find her eventually. As with the flowers in the city, she could usually identify what type of plant she was looking at, if not exact species. Azaleas, rhododendrons, ferns, peonies, magnolias, lotus, gingko, the ubiquitous bamboo. She knocked on the stems of the larger bamboo, enjoying the musically hollow sound.

The sun westered, then set, blessing her with a spectacular display of color amid tumultuous clouds. It was beautiful, though she thought perhaps the sunsets in her world must have deeper reds, thanks to pollution. Unless fires for cooking or clearing fields, or a volcano somewhere made up for the difference… She turned her steps toward the gracefully swooping roofs she could see off to the east, suddenly hungry enough to ignore unidentifiables again. As she made her way, evening deepened…and then the stars came out.

Riaka stopped, and blinked rapidly to clear her contact lens. Oh my…

There were only a few long banners of cloud left, streaming in the west; nearly the entire sky had opened up above her. Even with full night not yet fallen, the stars shone brilliantly; so bright and clear even she could see faint colors to some of them. The Milky Way was a gauzy scarf draped across the velvet heavens; Riaka’s mind made a leap, filling her up with the journey back in time and over distances in space only comprehensible in terms of high mathematics. Riaka – for just a moment, before the humming babble of her conscious mind returned – disappeared, and became both a mote and a vast, inextricable part of the cosmos.

Riaka wiped her eyes, then brought her attention back to where she was. On a path, still, pointed toward a structure made by humans, but the moon was not up yet, and despite the stars, here on the ground it was very dark.

Oops. Well, I can hear the gravel crunch and otherwise feel the path under my feet, so, onward. I should have found a stick…oh well. This reminded her strongly of all the night hikes she and Luri had taken in the forest just off campus in college. They had taken flashlights but rarely used them. Luri’s night vision was excellent and she took care to wear a light colored shirt, so Riaka could follow her even with just starlight, or when clouds obscured the moon. Sometimes, though it had been so dark under the redwoods they both navigated by feel and sound. Only once had they nearly pitched headlong into the creek alongside… Riaka smiled at the memory and walked on.

Eventually she found her way to a broad courtyard and bright lanterns. Ah, this is the right building after all. Someone waited for her on the top step; even backlit, she recognized Tamahome.

"Don’t you start," she said, shaking her finger at him as she climbed the stairs wearily. "I was not entirely lost." For a moment she marveled at her familiarity with this person she’d only met two, no three days ago. But without Luri, she recognized she needed someone to be comfortable with, someone to trust. Tamahome had already earned that trust thrice over, so he got elected friend. What surprised her was how readily he had accepted this, behaving in a rather brotherly manner almost from the beginning. Mercenary brother, but brother nonetheless.

a d c b

The next morning, Riaka actually managed to wake up fairly close to dawn. She dressed in a borrowed undertunic – or at least that was what she thought it probably was – and a loose-fitting pair of pantaloons she supposed were meant to go under long robes or a skirt. Breakfast was some fruit left on her table from the day before. She braided her hair tightly and set out to find somewhere to practice.

She had ten or so days to kill; considering what had happened to her so far, she decided she would feel better if she could at least practice what little martial arts she knew. If she could get Tamahome to teach her more, fantastic, though she did have the thought that he might not be into teaching, or at least not teaching complete novices like herself – a lot of the upper belts at her dojo struck her as being that way; working with the lower belts was either boring or beneath them.

She headed for the area of the main gate, guessing that the guards’ rooms and armories and perhaps training halls would be there. If they forbade her entrance for whatever reason, the soft, springy turf in a meadowy area of the gardens would do.

Jeez, this place is big! After a fairly respectable walk, and following what she thought was just a hunch, she found a training hall. Inside, Tamahome himself was sparring with some of the guard captains. Obviously holding back; his forehead remained unmarked. Hm. Maybe it was Tamahome I was homing in on…? Riaka watched from the doorway for a while. The floor was hard-packed dirt; no mats.

So much for that idea. The lawn out by the little koi pond would be softer than this! She pushed away from the doorframe and turned to leave.

"Riaka?" Tamahome called from the hall. "Did you need something?"

"No," she replied. "Nevermind."

She set out for the place she had in mind, walking mostly, but jogging short distances – downhill. Get the warm-up started anyway. By the small pond she’d found the day before, she did a thorough series of stretches, then began her rolls and falls, particularly careful with the latter. She hadn’t found any stones in the grass yet, but she was wary from past experience elsewhere. By the time she’d worked up to the no-hand sutemi, she felt Tamahome watching her.

"What are you doing?" he asked when she stopped and looked at him.

"No-hand sutemis," she replied matter-of-factly.

Tamahome rolled his eyes.

"Practice falls," Riaka elaborated.

"So, you’re basically throwing yourself on the ground. On purpose."

"Yes. The real trick, though, is to throw yourself at the ground – and miss!"

Tamahome opened his mouth to reply, and stopped. Riaka thought his eyes were going to cross.

"Tamahome, I’m joking!" she said, laughing.

"I wonder…"

Riaka grinned and waved her hands at him. "Okay, okay. Anyhoo, I’m…trying to work out a little. Recent events have…pointed out how quite thoroughly out of shape I am, and that’s just too scary, so I’d better do something about it, hadn’t I." She pretended to root a rock out of the turf with one toe. "And, would you, if you don’t mind, I mean, if it wouldn’t be too annoying for you, since I don’t know if you like teaching or anything, and I know I won’t have time to learn much or ever be very good, but I’d really feel better if, well, um…" She stopped because he was laughing.

"You don’t have to learn how to fight, Riaka," he said, shaking his head. "That’s what I’m for."

"I know, but…" She stared at the pond. "I just… We haven’t gotten anywhere yet, and I already feel like a fifth wheel. I don’t want to be such a…a…I dunno, burden, hindrance, the weak link. How can even you protect me if I’m completely helpless?"

Tamahome snorted. "I saw you there in town, remember, and with those slavers. You are not completely helpless."

"Mostly harmless, then." Riaka grinned to herself, but wasn’t about to try to explain that one to him.

Tamahome nodded. "Mostly." He’d taught his next-oldest brother, Chueh, as much as he could whenever he was home, Chun-Jing was still a little young. But this wouldn’t be much different; and he’d be able to glean some knowledge of whatever school it was she’d been learning from. It wasn’t anything he’d ever seen before, he was sure. She didn’t know anything advanced, but he could extrapolate… "Show me what you do know, then."

Riaka took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, I’ll just go down the lists I’ve had to learn so far; there isn’t much, numbers-wise, though I know a few variations on the first one. Yawara is the holds/ escapes; let’s see if I remember ‘em in order…" She explained about tapping out just to be sure; she probably couldn’t hurt him, but the yubi toris could be nasty even on mighty men. She herself had "fingers of glass" and patted out almost immediately on those techniques. From Yawara she went to ground-fighting and a couple of odd things that weren’t on the lists but she wanted to get out of the way before she forgot; then on to the throws – Nage.

Nage got interesting. The foot sweeps were easy enough to show him, but while he had learned to take a lot of punishment in a fight and still get up again, and he knew some wrestling from what Riaka suspected might be a version of sumo, he had not been taught the safer falling methods in jujitsu. Strikes, blocks, kicks, but not a lot of grappling were what he knew mostly. So Riaka would load him for the throws but didn’t follow through. Easier said than done in some cases, so they tumbled, laughing, sometimes as Riaka lost her balance with him set wrong across one hip or her feet in the wrong place. She remembered to be careful with her bad shoulder, so nothing untoward happened with that, and she explained how she was modifying seoi nage and seoi goshi to accommodate her old injury.

Tamahome found he could tell when Riaka was doing the techniques correctly; this style was more about finesse than strength. "Are these primarily women’s arts in your world?" he asked her.

Riaka grinned and shook her head. "Not really. Just like here, it’s mostly the men who want to learn how to beat the crap outta each other. Danzan Ryu is a good school for women, though, there’s a whole list that I haven’t learned yet called Goshin that was adopted from a women’s system. Professor Okazaki collected arts from all over the world, including Spanish knife fighting. If we can find a wooden practice blade I can probably remember some of that stuff. Counters to attacks, mostly." She glanced up to find the sun only halfway to noon. She was sweating and puffing, though not really out of breath. Tamahome wasn’t even sweating. "Well, Shime, then, and then I’m out of tricks until we find practice knives. Bokken too, I guess." They had occasionally done some stick-fighting things at the dojo.

Tamahome nodded.

"Right, then. Shime is choking/strangling stuff, and a lot of the ones I’ve learned are counters to throws or counters to counters to throws."

"All are connected," Tamahome commented, grinning.

"Yep. Okay; Eri Gatame. I’ll use Deashi Harai to get you down, since I’m already pooped and we can do half of these right from there anyway."

She had gotten past her nervousness at what she thought of as "showing off" in front of him by dint of the concentration it took to remember and execute the various arts. But then she got to Sankaku Gatame. Come on, Riaka, just do it and go on; you play this straight in class all the time. Except usually the fellows she was working with in class had done it before, were used to it, didn’t think about it as an embarrassing position; particularly since the choke came on so hard and fast it was actually a little bit dangerous. And most of them weren’t strapping, young, silver-eyed Seishi, either…

"Now, when I put my foot against your hip, you just crouch down a little; get your center too low so I don’t have the leverage anymore. That’s the counter to that throw I did just before the Emperor’s guards came after us."

"When you threw that boy into the wall."

"Yeah, that one. And then I’ll counter your counter."

She hopped, placed her right foot and sat, and he crouched before she had a chance to roll back and toss him over. So she kicked one of his legs out with her left foot, put that foot up on his other hip, then brought her right leg up while she pulled his right arm up to her chest with both hands, wrapping her right leg around his neck and tucking that foot behind the opposite knee. With some difficulty she managed to roll him over properly without crunching her toes for once, essentially sitting on his throat. Tamahome’s face turned an interesting color and she released him and rolled away immediately; the usual ending for that technique.

Tamahome sat up, coughing. Riaka crawled back over and watched him carefully to make sure he was okay. "That’s kind of a nasty one if you can get it. I have to do so much finagling I probably wouldn’t ever use it, but…"

"But gods help the one it’s done to," he said, his face returning to its natural golden shade. Some of these arts can kill. I wonder if she knows that. Riaka’s habits were those of someone trained in a formal beginners’ class; holding back, with very little sparring, being so very careful to do no harm, always stopping before any injury might occur. Useful and polite, but no good for street fighting. Her punches and kicks were abominable. He stood and offered her his hand. She didn’t take it, but stood in the same way he had, always facing her opponent, able at any point to go back to a defensive ground position. Well, someone had taught her some caution at least. It was a place to start.

"Can you continue?" he asked.

"Yeah, for a while anyway."

Tamahome smiled. "Good. You need a lot of sparring practice."

He found she did know some basic striking and blocking and kicking. But she had an unfortunate tendency to try to dodge into a punch, and he clipped her soundly several times, even though he kept their speed slower than he did with Chuei. Her blind side was also going to be a problem, but he didn’t see that there was anything to do about that except keep attacking from that side until she learned what it took to ward it.

"Riaka," he said, when a punch of hers had been short by a handswidth for the severalth time. "You’re better at judging distance than you think. Quit whining about it!"

They broke for lunch, then resumed for the rest of the afternoon. Riaka wanted to quit at lunch, and many times after, but didn’t dare, afraid he wouldn’t teach her at all if she wimped out on anything. By evening, when they stopped to bathe for dinner she was trembling with exhaustion and bruised all over – including her face, which she had to explain carefully to Hotohori during the meal.

"I’ll wake you early, don’t forget," Tamahome assured her as they departed for their respective beds.

"Yeah. Terrific," Riaka replied, already half-asleep. She fell into bed.

So it went; whenever they weren’t doing anything else, like being presented at court to some new dignitary, Tamahome had Riaka up at dawn to spar all day. Or at least for as long as her body held out.

a d c b

Riaka woke, sweating and trembling. She’d had a fire nightmare again. This is ridiculous! Whose idea was it to put me in the South/Fire quadrant, anyway? Why didn’t I get water, or if the zodiac’s significant, Virgo’s an earth sign!

Ching Dai’s assembly of excellence was nearly complete. They were, at least in theory, one step closer to finding perhaps one of the remaining Seishi. She had an entire Imperial Compound to explore or retreat to, Tamahome was teaching her more than she thought possible in so short a time, and was amusing company as well, and she’d even gotten to have meals with the Emperor a few times. Things were going fine; what was up with these nightmares? She was breaking out in water blisters on her fingers and even the backs of her hands; a sign of stress she hadn’t had since her last university finals over a decade ago.

She got up and slid open the door to the garden; physical activity always helped her banish oneiric demons. Spring was progressing, and the night was warm – and humid to one used to the hot summers of the Central Valley's Mediterranean climate. But this was southern China, more or less, and monsoon season was fast approaching. The moon was up, a few days past full; that and the astonishingly bright stars gave more than enough light for her to wander the already familiar paths. This was what she needed; she’d find a nice bench somewhere, look up at the stars, think about astronomy. That would put her silly little troubles in perspective.

All right, so what am I stressing over? She thought, as she walked, keeping to the flagstone paths, since gravel wouldn’t be fun with bare feet and she’d forgotten to put on slippers. I’m in an alien environment, so we have culture shock to deal with. But I already know I’ll get home when this Suzaku thing is over with, so it’s more like an extended vacation. Just a ‘There and Back Again’, right? No dragons, even – oops, I’d better not assume that! But Chinese dragons aren’t like Western, so no dealings with Smaug’s kin. What else? Oh, I’ve been in two actual, honest to goddess fights, which I never have before and those free-spars in jujitsu were nothing like. Post-traumatic stress; there’s even a handy, trendy catch phrase! Luri would be amused. And she’s safe at home, but I wish she – or Di or Angela – were here! I don’t want to do this alone! I need occasional solitude, but I hate having no backup! No backup on a major job that apparently only I can do – nice to be needed, but…! – and not enough detail about how it’s supposed to work. Gather the Seishi they say, call the Power of Greyskull-I-mean-Suzaku, they say, save the Hongnan Empire. That’s nice, HOW!?! And what’s this threat of extinction anyway? That stupid scroll doesn’t give any hints about that! War? Plague? Asteroid? The Stay-Pufft Marshmallow Man? Godzilla’s in Japan, so not that… Jeeze, magic makes a muddle of everything! It could be Zool for all I know! Fabulous. She was getting herself worked up, she realized. Well, maybe a good cry would help anyway, though she hated to do it; crying gave her a headache, and she didn’t have any ibuprofen.

She found herself by the large western lake. At the shore, she climbed up onto the flat, smooth top of an enormous boulder and sat down. I’m just plain scared of this whole deal, she told herself. There are too many unknowns! She hunched forward, letting the tears fall. If it’s war, I could get killed, or Tamahome, or even Hotohori. And they expect me to lead them! Who do they think I am, Sun Tzu!?! You gotta be kidding! I’m a vet tech, dammit, not a general! Might be able to do something about plague, but if it’s an asteroid, we’re in deep shit. Fire. She curled over onto her side, compressed around the fear, and the pain of separation from all she knew. All her technical skills were useless here. Maybe she was useless; just a figurehead in some scheme…no, that she was here at all meant there was more than that going on. All right, a pawn of a god, then. And that was worse; the gods could mess you up bigtime for their own reasons, or no reason at all; just got in the way, a bit player, sorry old girl, but we just weren’t paying attention. Odysseus, or worse, Medea, or just about any of the maidens in The Hakkenden. If only Luri had stayed…!

She wept silently, letting the long, racking sobs shake her, but stifling the keening wails that threatened in her throat. Sound would travel too well over the water. Friends, family, cats, job; all left behind. She might get back, but how long…? She cried until her eyes burned, her face was swollen, her head ached and she couldn’t breathe out of her nose anymore. The sleeves of her night-robe were soaked, and there was a sort of puddle on the rock, but she continued, deliberately wallowing, trying to get it over with in one swell foop.

Even inward-focused as she was, some part of her knew Tamahome approached, before he set foot on her rock. He settled beside her and pulled her a little awkwardly into his lap. She discarded the thought of pulling away, take comfort when it’s offered, stupid! He rocked her, and rubbed her back in silence, until she at last hiccuped into stillness.

"Don’t think," he whispered into her hair then, "that you’re all alone. Don’t think that no-one here cares about you."

Riaka snuffled, to no avail; her nose was too plugged. Stop that, you’ll set me off again. Anyway, you only care because I’m Suzaku No Miko. Somehow I’m gonna save all your butts. Ah well. "Ohhh, it’s not even that," she said, rough-voiced. "I’m just plain chicken-shit, that’s all." She uncurled from around him, not looking at him, and crawled down to the water to plunge her face into the cool lake. She blew and scrubbed until she could breathe out of one nostril at least and she didn’t feel so hot and hideous. She wiped her face on her hem.

Hair dripping, she crawled back and sat next to Tamahome.

"How did you…?"

"Find you?" He put an arm around her shoulders. "I…felt…something was wrong with you. I just followed the feeling."

"Woke you up, then, did I?"

"It’s all right, we can both sleep late tomorrow." He grinned at her.

Riaka managed to chuckle at this. She tilted her head back and looked at the stars. Tamahome had pointed out all of their constellations to her a few nights ago; now she could find three readily. If only finding the human counterparts could be that easy.

a d c b

"Emperor, Suzaku No Miko, by your order, we have assembled the best men." Ching Dai gestured to the ranks of heavily armed and armored warriors.

"You have done well," said the Emperor. Riaka looked around for the Emperor’s special troops; there were many among the assembly, but only a few more around the Emperor himself. Either he was amazingly confident of his subjects’ loyalty, or Hotohori had some aces up his sleeve. Plenty of room in those sleeves, too; Riaka thought of Mousse and hid a grin behind her hand.

"Kang-Lin-sama, let’s go back." The maid cowered behind her mistress, hidden from casual view by a large column. "If someone finds you, you’ll be scolded."

Kang-Lin ignored her. Let them scold. Her attention was on the shabbily dressed, frizzy-haired barbarian on the dais beside the Emperor. "Is that the Suzaku No Miko everyone’s talking about?"

"Yes, Highness."

What a cow! "Though she’s not a princess, she’s close to the Emperor. How about the man next to her?"

"He’s the man who protects Miko-sama. One of the Seven Seishi, Tamahome-sama."

"Tamahome…"

Hotohori lifted a finger and was about to speak, but Riaka burst out, "Oh! Wait a sec, Majesty! I beg your pardon, but may I please ask them something first?"

Hotohori smiled at her manner and nodded.

Riaka turned to the men and shouted in her best ‘docent drowning out the clamor of twenty five-year-olds’ voice, "If any of you were born with a character on your body and/or are named for a constellation, please step forward!"

There was a brief murmur, then silence. "Never know till you try," Riaka shrugged.

"Indeed," Hotohori agreed quietly, still smiling. Being emperor meant he had to deal with complex situations and problems all the time. But Ching Dai often reminded him not to overlook a simple solution just because it was simple. In this case, it hadn’t worked, but he was pleased to find that Riaka thought that way, too. He had seen her counting his guards, and had noted her surprised expression; so perhaps she could encompass complexities as well.

"Let the combat begin," he said, nodding at his Armsmaster.

The ranks then divided into pairs and began to spar.

Riaka leaned over and whispered to Hotohori, "They all know we’re looking for Seishi, right?"

"Yes. The whole country knows it. Even if none of these men are Seishi, anyone who is aware of their power should eventually come to us."

"So the trick is to find the ones who don’t know." Riaka shook her head. It’s not going to be this easy. I ‘found’ the first two by chance. I bet the rest will be the same. And I can’t just sit here and wait for them to come to me; I get the feeling I have to take a more active role. But it didn’t hurt to try this first. She watched the sparring for a while, interested in the various techniques, though she was soon frustrated by not being able to see clearly from up here on the heights with the Emperor. On the other side, someone was fighting with a pair of sticks like in Escrima, and someone else had a big wooden mallet – what the heck is he gonna do with that? She wanted a better look at what they were doing, so she went down the stairway and skirted the dueling mass. On the other side she found shelter from the now high sun under a roofed pavilion. She sat down on the top step leading up to it and watched as the pairs split and re-formed; now a more generalized melee resumed. These guys are good! I don’t think anyone’s using blunted edges or pulling punches much. Helps that they have armor, but still! The noise was amazing.

Tamahome shook his head. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. It took a real threat to bring out the character and the power. He stood up and did a few preparatory exercises, joints cracking and popping all over.

"Your Majesty," he said. "Let me try."

Hotohori blinked, then waved him on.

With a gleeful shout, Tamahome bounded into the middle of the crowd, downing the warriors left, right and sideways, cutting a broad swath across the courtyard. Seeing this, the warriors turned more serious, and converged.

Riaka sat up straighter. Uhhm, how good an idea is that?

The Mallet of Unusual Size came flying out of the furball at her; Riaka swore and dove for cover further inside the pavilion. The mallet hit one of the supporting columns and bounced away. Riaka poked her head around a corner. "Be careful with that, you shmucks!" she hollered, not noticing the column beginning to crack.

"Bastards!" Tamahome growled, going at them even more.

The next column over sheared and fractured. Riaka heard it go and looked around wildly. Tamahome disengaged from the battle and ran toward her. Riaka got up and ran, but the building shuddered and toppled; she felt Tamahome hit her just before the building did, and all went dark.

a d c b

"AI! Ow, hey!" Blankets and cats scattered as Luri grabbed at her right leg. Blood was soaking through her sweats. What the smeg!?! She pressed her hand against the wound, but her eye was oddly caught again by a line in the Book: Suzaku No Miko was buried beneath the collapsed structure. Suzaku No Miko’s clothes were colorfully dyed by the blood of her injured leg.

"What?" Oh no. Whatever happens to Riaka in the book happens to me as well. Okay, not everything, but large changes, or something like that. Smegging wonderful… She got up and hobbled to the bathroom, stripping off her sweats. She washed her leg in the bathtub; the wound wasn’t deep, despite all the blood. She debated on going in to have it stitched, decided it didn’t need it. She arrayed bandages and antibiotic cream to her satisfaction, set her sweat pants to soak in cold water in the tub, then limped back to the Book. She took a big swig of green tea and settled herself again.

As she read on, the pain faded…

a d c b

Owwwwww…. I’m alive. Riaka did a quick inventory. She’d rapped her head on the stone paving pretty hard, and her right leg was pinned, and she suspected cut by something across the thigh. But her upper body was strangely unencumbered. The air was close and dust-filled, but she could breathe all right. Someone –oh yeah, Tamahome. You twit, now there’re two to rescue instead of one! She opened her eyes and coughed. It had been a roof and not massive walls that had fallen on them; a little light was seeping in from chinks in the rubble. And red light rayed out from the symbol on Tamahome’s forehead. He straddled her on hands and knees; a human arch bearing the weight of the debris above them.

Oh my gods. She heard Hotohori calling their names desperately. She turned her head so not to shout in Tamahome’s face. "We’re alive!! We’re okay!" More or less… How long would it take to get them out? No heavy machinery, no hydraulic jacks… But human labor built the pyramids, so she should shut up and quit assuming low tech meant no brain. She could already hear them moving rubble, slowly, carefully, small pieces at a time. Tamahome’s arms began to tremble.

"Bloody hell, Tamahome," Riaka hissed, alarmed. "This is a little much, even for you!" As the dust settled somewhat she could make out the column whose weight Tamahome was supporting; but for him, it would have crushed her.

"Stupid," he grated out, sweat starting on his face; the Oni symbol glaring. "I told you…I’d protect you, no matter…what."

"Bloody, smegging, mother pus-bucket…" Riaka went on swearing. She wriggled her shoulders around until she was mostly flat on her back, then put her hands up to the pillar to either side of Tamahome’s neck. Her strength was nothing to his, but every little bit had to make some difference, and she couldn’t just lie there.

As the rescuers pulled away the rubble, something shifted. Riaka bit back a cry as whatever it was cut deeper into her leg. Weight distributions changed and Tamahome clenched his teeth.

"Dammit," he gritted. "I can’t…" Riaka futilely tried to help brace the column as Tamahome’s elbows slowly, unwillingly began to bend.

"Leave this to me, please," said a voice behind Hotohori. Though his ministers had begged him to stay back, the Emperor had joined in the rescue effort almost frenziedly. The Emperor glanced over his shoulder and stood in surprise. A royal maiden in court attire, here?

Eyes lowered demurely, she nonetheless brushed by him and grasped the largest section of roof and tossed it away. It crashed and shattered as she began lobbing other huge bits of the pavilion in various directions, sending the ministers and warriors scrambling out of the way. At last she moved a long section of column to reveal the two beneath.

"They’re alive," she said, as Riaka blinked up at her. "You have the devil’s own luck."

Hotohori clambered to them awkwardly in his imperial regalia. "Riaka, Tamahome! Are you all right?"

"No, Emperor," Tamahome managed. "I am injured." He looked down at Riaka. "And so is Riaka." Physicians came and helped the pair clear of the rubble. They were seated a safe distance away while their wounds were treated. So much for these jeans, Riaka thought, as they were cut away to expose her cut thigh.

"You have served Suzaku No Miko well this day," Hotohori said.

"Do I get a reward? Ah!" Tamahome winced as a particularly painful wound was probed.

"You can have anything you want as far as I’m concerned," Riaka said emphatically. This was three times, now, he’d directly saved her life. "But I haveta ask; does the term ‘self-preservation’ mean anything to you?"

"Heh. I told you before," he said. "I make my own choices. Ah, that really hurts..." Miraculously, his arms weren’t broken, though his wrists were badly sprained and some of the bones may have been cracked. His back, hips and shoulders were damaged, and his elbows and knees had suffered compression injury. Riaka was surprised he had held at all, given the impact loading he’d taken. She was told there seemed to be no concussion, though she’d lost consciousness for a second or two, and she was to inform the physicians immediately if further symptoms arose. Other than a knot on her head and the gash in her thigh – which didn’t even penetrate past the fat – she was fine.

Hotohori approached the woman who’d saved them. "Are you a princess of the realm?"

"Yes, I am, your Majesty." She dusted off her long, trailing sleeves.

"The power," Hotohori murmured. "Could it be…?" He regarded her wonderingly. The edge of something red peeked just above the edge of her ruffled collar. That mark… Without thinking, he reached to draw the collar aside.

The princess gasped and recoiled. "Majesty, what are you doing?"

"I…well…ah…" He pointed to his own collarbone. "The mark…"

"Oh," said the princess. "You mean this?" She pulled her collar down to reveal the character fully as it blazed to life. Hotohori’s eyes widened, though he’d hoped…expected…

"I am Cho Kang-Lin," the princess said. "Also called Nuriko."

Something about this Nuriko tugged at Riaka’s mind. Something was just a little bit odd. The voice? The jawline? The…Adam’s apple, maybe? Actually, I think maybe, but I won’t place any bets just yet. If she’s a he, he’s really good! And Riaka had no intention of saying anything about it; since everyone else seemed to think Nuriko was a woman, and blowing the jig might get her/him killed or something. Or not; the first she’d seen of the Emperor himself he’d been in drag. Valley of the Drag Queens…

"A female Seishi," Riaka said. "And you guys called for all the men! Hello!" She rolled her eyes as Hotohori and Tamahome exchanged a look of shock. Even Ching Dai blinked. She had to rub it in. "The book doesn’t say, does it? It didn’t say the Seishi have to be male, yall just assumed! Bloody smegging patriarchal wing-nuts…" She got up and hopped over to them, gritting her teeth against the pain.

"Princess Nuriko," Riaka almost choked on the title but kept her face straight through main force. "Thank you for saving our lives. I’m Riaka, and…" Nuriko ignored her and glided over to Tamahome.

"The one I meant to save," she purred. "Was Tamahome." She took his startled face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth.

Riaka thought she was going to bust a gasket, keeping laughter in check. Tamahome’s face… Hotohori’s face! She bit her lips hard and gazed innocently up at the sky.

a d c b

Luri felt something odd and glanced down at her leg. On a hunch, she peeked under the bandage. She got up and went into the bathroom. There was no sign of blood, even in the water. She pulled the plug out of the drain and wrung out her sweat pants, hanging them over the shower curtain rod to drip. Walking normally didn’t hurt at all. She took off the bandage; the wound was all but gone, only a faint pink line remained.

"Curiouser and curiouser." Why wound me and then have it go away so fast? As I’m reading…wait. Maybe that’s it. I speed read, but even if I didn’t it takes less time to read about things happening –usually, since the narrative skips over whole days and nights and boring parts and things like that. But Riaka lives them in real-time… Luri was pretty sure she was on to something.

a d c b

Riaka kept the maids from taking her sliced up jeans. After she soaked the blood out, wishing all the while for a good quart of hydrogen peroxide, she figured she could either use the material for other things, or even salvage the pants themselves by sewing up the leg, or make them into cutoff shorts. Meanwhile, the gauzy robes she was given were quite nice, as long as she didn’t have to go out a-questing in them. They were to set out for the other four Seishi as soon as she and Tamahome had fully recovered.

So, as she was changing into her night-robe, Riaka contemplated Nuriko. Doesn’t much like me, does she? After kissing Tamahome, Nuriko had gazed at the Emperor for a moment, then made obeisance and left, trailing behind her a frantic maid. She had coldly ignored Riaka. But if she’s used to court politics, i.e. competing with other women rather than forming close friendships, that isn’t so surprising. And Nuriko had some interesting secrets to keep, unless Riaka was greatly mistaken.

Riaka sat down at the vanity and propped her injured leg up on a cushion. She had just started brushing her hair when Tamahome burst – not literally – through the door.

"Riaka!" he cried. "Hide me!" Riaka pointed out the door to the privy. Tamahome rushed for it, but didn’t make it. A white ribbon lashed out and snaked around his ankles, binding them together and toppling him to the floor. Nuriko, in the doorway, held the other end.

"Ouch," commented Riaka.

"Ah, Riaka-sama, pardon me," said Nuriko. "Tama-chan seems reluctant to be alone with me for some reason. Ta!" She dragged him out the door, laughing maniacally.

Riaka called after them, "Hey, Nuriko, try not to damage him too much, will ya? He’s had a hard day!" Oh dear…

Sitting in the Lake Pavilion, Riaka watched the sunset, as had become her habit when she wasn’t too tired from her lessons with Tamahome. She hummed quietly to herself, enjoying the evening breeze, and wondering who to ask about paper, brushes and ink or paint. She itched to draw and had nothing but the tiny notepad in her belt pouch to do it on. She had several ball point pens, and even a mechanical pencil, eraser and a Sharpie marker; but she wanted a larger area to work with.

There was an odd scuffling behind her.

She turned to find Tamahome inching his way over the arching bridge toward her, wrapped tightly in Nuriko’s white ribbon from ankles to shoulders. Riaka couldn’t help but laugh.

"I’m sorry," she said, getting up with some difficulty and hobbling over to help him. "Are you all right? How’d you get away?"

"I escaped while she was arguing with the chef," Tamahome growled. Riaka unwound the ribbon until his arms were free, then he took over, throwing the wadded up mass into the lake when he was done. Riaka leaned over the railing and watched it sink.

"There was a weight at the end of that, wasn’t there," she said.

"Yes," said Tamahome, not amused.

"Hm!" Interesting weapon. What was that called on Star Trek? The Ahn-Woon? Heh… She looked at him. "Not having a good time, then, huh?"

He glared at her. "You must be joking."

Riaka tried to ignore the straight line, but couldn’t pass it up. "No, I’m Riaka."

Tamahome blinked, then cracked a smile. Then laughed. "I suppose it was funny in a way."

"Except for that face-fall she made you do in my room, yeah, I was pretty amused." She cocked her head at him, noting his stance and thinking about the way he’d been moving. "Are you okay?" she asked again. If she didn’t know better, she’d have said his injuries of that afternoon were a week old already, or more.

Tamahome shrugged. "I heal quickly."

"I guess so! Jeeze!"

Tamahome leaned against the railing next to her as the silence lengthened companionably; both watching the sky turn the color of pomegranates.

a d c b

Riaka didn’t see Nuriko again until the next evening. Riaka liked to take her baths in the evening, after practice, while the other women who used the same sumptuous facilities preferred morning ablutions. So Riaka usually had the place to herself. She was soaking longer than usual this night to ease her bruises, and briefly slipped into a half doze.

When she emerged from the pool, every towel and cloth in the room was gone. Riaka cast about for a few minutes, searching thoroughly for something to use as a drape, then wondered what her chances were of nipping down the hall unseen; it wasn’t really that far. There were painted hangings and tapestries, but she hated the thought of getting them wet.

It occurred to her who had done this, or had it done, and she had another idea. Just you wait, Nuriko!

Mei-Yin had just joined the palace staff that season; she was honored to be serving the visiting royal ladies at such a young age. She was small and fragile-looking but she had an astounding memory and she was beautiful in a quiet sort of way, so the princesses took her in right away, even if with some it was as a kind of pet. Mei-Yin didn’t mind; she had good food to eat, a fine roof over her head, and the mistresses had never yet had cause to beat her.

She turned a corner, carrying a tray with tea for the Miko-sama, when a great, naked, hulking, wild-haired leviathan of womanhood came storming at her.

"Take me to Princess Nuriko’s quarters or suffer!" the amazon roared.

Mei-Yin managed to not drop the tray, but dared take the time to set it down first before doing as she was bid. The monster behind her made no comment. Mei-Yin thanked every god she could think of, not just Suzaku, that they met no one else until they reached Nuriko’s door.

Riaka slammed the door open and filled her capacious lungs to the utmost. "NURIKO!" she bellowed, using the voice that could be heard above the noise of pounding surf from a kilometer and a half away.

Nuriko leapt to her feet, hair in disarray, staring in utter disbelief. Riaka stalked over to her, closing to a distance of three centimeters and stopping with a precise snap of her shoulders that set her large breasts to doing a juggling act all their own. Nuriko gulped.

"You don’t have to like me," Riaka said softly, boring into Nuriko’s left eye with her skewed, cyclopean stare, aware that she was three centimeters taller than the princess and taking advantage of it. "But ixnay on the kindergarten games. Got me…girlfriend?"

Nuriko’s lovely, painted mouth opened and closed a few times, like a carp out of water, then shut with a determined snap.

"Barbarian!" Nuriko snarled, and slapped her face.

Riaka thought about this, fishing for a reaction. She didn’t think she’d ever been deliberately slapped before. Finally she found one.

"Interesting," she said evenly. "Considering you, that slap should have sent my head into low earth orbit." Nuriko continued to glare at her. "Either you’re very careful not to damage the Miko, or…You don’t really dislike me that much." Riaka thought some more. "Other fish to fry, perhaps?" She crossed her arms under her breasts. This resulted in cleavage on a geologic scale. Nuriko was looking a little pale. Riaka took pity on her. "Whether you like me or not, becoming a Seishi will enable you to help save your empire. Think about that, hm?" She turned on her heel and walked out, accepting with a thank-you the robe Mei-Yin tremblingly held out to her as she did so. Slinging the robe around herself, she quietly shut the door.

And nearly ran over Tamahome and Hotohori.

"Wah!" she said elegantly.

The men were trying to look everywhere but at her. She pulled the robe more securely around herself. "Sorry." She pushed past them and headed for her room. "Hey, what are you guys doing in this part of the palace at this time of night? Go to bed!" She turned and made shooing motions at them, then slipped out of sight around the corner.

Hotohori and Tamahome stared after her, then looked at each other. "Did you see that?" Tamahome asked carefully.

"No," said the Emperor. "And neither did you, so shut up."

a d c b

It was the first real storm of the season. Riaka left her windows open to enjoy it, standing in the middle of her main room, hair loose and arms outstretched. Until the wind started knocking things off tables and chests, and Tamahome had to come in and help her get the latches secured.

"That was exciting!" Riaka said, grinning. She stayed by the window that looked most fully out into the garden, watching the wind row the trees, listening to it howl in the eaves. She breathed deep the gathering gloom; fresh air, even as the sky darkened with rain.

"You’re crazy," Tamahome commented grumpily. This weather kept them from sparring, and him from the city, where he was carefully selling things of Riaka’s during the afternoons they didn’t continue her lessons. When she’d found out he’d sold her stud earrings as ‘relics’ of Suzaku No Miko, for twice what he’d have gotten for them otherwise; she had blinked at him for a moment, muttered something incomprehensible about ‘the Middle Ages’, then said, "Whatever flips your pancake." And rummaged around in her fabulous trove of a belt pouch, handing him an assortment of items. All her blank checks, which she signed ‘Suzaku No Miko’ on the back of, fourteen quarters, some bobby-pins, one of those little AVON sample lipsticks, a plastic clasp taken off an old fanny pack as a spare, a tube of tea tree oil that dried her face out anyway, a glasses cleaning cloth, two of her three key chains, a seam-ripper, a 3-foot tape-measure, a credit-card sized Fresnel lens and a vial of Sweet Clover essential oil from Bubbles. She had tried to explain the Fresnel lens to him, but it still baffled him how such a small, flat piece of not-glass could magnify things almost as well as Master Li’s heavy glass lenses. When Tamahome mentioned Master Li’s work, Riaka looked quizzical.

"Telescopes," she’d said, "Hm."

At the end of that day, over the dinner they usually shared – Hotohori joined them when he could, and if he did, Nuriko joined them as well – Tamahome had carefully asked her, "Are you…an…alchemist? In your world?"

Riaka hadn’t laughed, though he’d somehow expected her to. "No," she’d said, after thinking about it. "Not really. I’m a physician’s assistant, sort of; only for animals, not humans. I have had some training in what you’d probably call alchemy, though nothing you’d find familiar to alchemists here… Well, maybe. I shouldn’t assume that. There are things going on here that I’m fairly sure didn’t happen that way in my world 500 years ago, er, before my time. I think. It’s hard to tell." She made a face at a vegetable she’d just plucked out of her soup, then set it aside. "I’m sorry, that didn’t make much sense, did it."

"Yes and no," Tamahome had replied, thoughtful in his turn. He had been trying to fit her into some familiar space or mode of his world, and the incident with Nuriko hadn’t helped. The better he knew her, he’d thought, the better he could protect her and serve as Seishi. At first he thought he’d found common ground in her uneasiness with Palace life. Like him, she was unused to servants, marveled at the richness and craftsmanship of everything here, and felt very awkward on the rare occasions they attended Court. Hotohori had made the latter easier for them by making it clear the Miko and her Seishi were there to observe and would not be required to participate in most of the Court functions. Nuriko had, since her discovery as the third Seishi, also been excused from her usual Court duties.

However, despite daily sparring practice, many conversations, and living in the Palace together for almost half a moon, he still didn’t always know what to make of her…

Now, as he helped her set her room to rights after she’d let the storm blow in, he gave up. She was Suzaku No Miko, and that was strange enough, legends come to life; but, after all, she was from another world entirely, not just a foreign province!

"Do you not have monsoons in your world?" he asked her.

"In my world, yes; where I live, no." She described the climate of her home city, and drew a crude map. Hotohori’s scribes had let her have brushes, ink, and a set of sheets of paper not yet bound into a scroll, and she’d had a hard time keeping Tamahome from making off with some of her sketches to sell. But for this she used her own pen and a scrap from her notepad.

Tamahome absorbed all this, then took the pen out of her hand and examined it with professional interest. "How many of these do you have?"

"No! Mine!" Riaka snatched the pen back and stuffed it into the front pocket with the others. "All right. Maybe when it’s out of ink, they can use it as a talisman or whatever."

Tamahome nodded good-naturedly. He’d never had time for superstitions himself, but he made it his business to understand how such things affected others – his potential customers.

Riaka smirked at him. "You’d love America," she said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We sell everything there. In fact—"

Someone tapped at the doorframe.

"’Min!" Riaka called.

Hotohori entered. "Riaka, Tamahome."

"Have a seat, your Majesty," Riaka said, waving at a chair. "You look tired, take a load off."

Hotohori blinked at this and quickly checked his reflection in the nearest mirror. His normally flawless complexion was marred by slight shadows under his eyes. He resolved to retire early tonight.

Riaka and Tamahome exchanged a look, but carefully schooled their expressions as Hotohori turned back around.

"Riaka," the Emperor said. "I came to inquire about your injury. How soon do you think you can ride?"

Riaka blew a breath out and shrugged. "I can walk on it fine. I dunno, I’ve never done much riding. You do mean horses, right?"

Hotohori nodded, smiling.

"Well. Okay, I’m ready whenever you guys are. Is the rainy season going to make it harder to travel?"

"Yes," Hotohori replied. "But not prohibitively so. It would have perhaps been better if you had come in winter, but that was not for us to choose. If you are here, then danger of some kind is imminent. I am sorry to press you, but I worry for my people."

Riaka nodded. "I understand. I just wish we knew what kind of danger it was."

Hotohori chuckled. "Ching Dai has been nearly tearing out his hair – what hair he has left at any rate – over that very question. He has been consulting every augury and soothsayer he can find of decent reputation. All they ever say is ‘Great danger to Hongnan approaches’ or something of that sort."

"That’s a big help," Riaka muttered. Tamahome rose and joined her at the window. The storm raged on.

"Don’t worry, Miko," he said. "We’ll help you all we can."

Hotohori cleared his throat. "Then I will have the provisions and mounts prepared. Nuriko will go with the two of you. I…wish I could accompany you as well, but…"

Riaka looked at the Emperor sympathetically. "I guess Emperors don’t get to take vacations, huh?"

The Emperor smiled. "Ah, no." He bid them a pleasant midday and returned to his duties.

"He’s the Emperor," Tamahome said musingly. "He can do whatever he wants to do. Why not come with us?"

Riaka stifled her initial response. Tamahome was streetwise, but remarkably naïve in other ways. "He almost never gets to do whatever he wants to do, Tamahome. The ruler of a country or empire has a lot of responsibility. He’s always surrounded by ministers and courtiers and people who want him to do stuff for them. You and I are more free than he is."

Tamahome looked at her. "How do you know? You told me your Country doesn’t have an Emperor."

Riaka sighed. "I read a lot." She grinned. "And we’ve been in Court often enough; you’ve seen how they are. One petition after another; and meanwhile all the ruling class people are scheming to make their piece of the pie as big as possible."

Tamahome’s eyes widened as he thought about it, but he understood what she meant. And found a measure of pity to leaven his envy of the Emperor.

a d c b

They set out early the next morning. Riaka grumbled about the hour, though she secretly enjoyed watching the dawn. At least it wasn’t raining.

Nuriko didn’t seem thrilled either. After the towel incident, she hadn’t bothered Riaka again, but made no overtures of friendship either. Riaka more or less ignored her, leaving Tamahome squirming in the middle.

After a day of this, he took Riaka aside. "You should at least try to make friends with Nuriko," he said.

"What do you mean? I’m not mad at her."

"Oh? You’ve barely said three words to her all day."

"If she doesn’t want to talk to me, I’m not going to force the issue."

"Stubborn girl! If your nose turns up any higher, people will mistake you for a pagoda!"

"What!?! Ex-squeeze-me? I don’t care if she likes me or not; this is not a popularity contest! As long as we’re civil for as long as we have to work together, what difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference because we have to work together. We all have to trust each other, probably with our lives."

Riaka glared straight ahead. She didn’t need him to tell her that. She knew it perfectly well. But it would be stupid to just waltz up to Nuriko and pretend everything was groovy. She had to wait for the right opportunity. "Fine," she growled. Her butt and thighs hurt too much to argue. She’d ridden horses before, sure, but never for more than an hour or two at a time. She’d tried to prevent sores by padding her saddle as much as possible, but at the end of the day, some pain was unavoidable. And it was hot, and muggy, and the bugs were out in force, and if she wasn’t thrilled with Imperial Chinese cuisine, ancient Chinese camp food was only barely classifiable as ingestable. And it’s not my fault I have a ski-slope nose!

a d c b

On the second morning, Tamahome found Riaka and Nuriko had at least one thing in common; they liked to sleep late when they could. They were having very good luck with the weather so far, as it hadn’t really rained much. The sky was deep blue with enough puffs and wisps of cloud to make it interesting. Riaka was terribly sore from riding all the day before, and she guessed it would get worse before it got better. This didn’t improve her temper, but the landscape did. They were moving into more mountainous territory now; foothills at least, clad with woodlands. Riaka wondered how old these forests might be; it was hard to tell, even now humans had been living on these lands for possibly thousands of years. But there were trees here of enormous girth, though she had no idea what kind of trees they were. Mosses, lichens, bromeliads and ferns rioted in the shade; delicate plants sensitive to pollution in her own world grew rampant here.

Riaka consulted the notes she’d made from The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth. Hotohori had offered her the scroll itself, saying he didn’t think Tai Yi-Jun would mind if she had it, since she was Suzaku No Miko. But Riaka didn’t want to go travelling with such an important document; too many ways to lose it, and then where would they be? So, she copied out the pertinent parts about the Seishi and left the scroll behind. Fight/Peasant, that’s Tamahome, Emperor/Sword – Hotohori, Palace/Strength – Nuriko. Easy enough once you know who they are, but now we have to guess. Next seems to be Monk/Face, or is it Mask? Hm. Tamahome and Nuriko had no other suggestions, so they were heading toward the nearest large temple. Riaka again thought this was also too easy a solution, but she didn’t know how else to go about the search; at least it gave them a goal. Hopefully they’d run into this ‘Monk’ somewhere along the way.

As the morning drew on, Riaka suddenly halted, dismounted as quickly as her sore legs and posterior allowed, and hobbled off behind a convenient bush. Nuriko and Tamahome exchanged embarrassed looks.

I was right, Riaka sighed to herself. Rotten timing, but it was inevitable; I’ve been here how long, now? Jeeze. And no ibuprofen. I’ll just have to hope I luck out cramps-wise. Riaka knew she actually had rather mild monthlies; two out of her four female best friends suffered wretched cramps, or worse; endometriosis. And sometimes Riaka didn’t have cramps at all. Maybe she’d been getting enough exercise with her lessons with Tamahome, and she knew she’d lost a little weight; she’d had to cinch her bra in to the next set of eyes. She was hoping that would help. It did, but that was as far as her luck went.

Riaka kept enough pads in her pack for the first day or so, depending on the flow, but after that…

"Nuriko?"

"Yes?"

"C’mere a sec, please?"

Nuriko rolled her eyes, but followed Riaka out of Tamahome’s earshot.

"Do you have any monthly supplies?" Riaka had her fingers crossed. If Nuriko really was a woman, she would know what was commonly used – almost certainly wads of cloth – and would have some in her own pack. But if she was a he, Riaka was hoping he might have the rags as part of his disguise. Nuriko’s Seishi line was still too faint for Riaka to get anything definite from it other than relative location and sometimes emotions.

Nuriko blinked, but recovered immediately. "Of course. Didn’t you think to bring your own?"

"I have a couple of what we use in my world, but that won’t last. And, no, actually, I didn’t think about it coming up. I’ve been a little distracted lately and I forgot I was due." Riaka followed Nuriko back to her mount. While Nuriko rummaged, Riaka stared at her and considered.

"You’re very good," Riaka said quietly. Nuriko froze. "Usually it takes someone who’s had surgery to fool me for so long, or have me in doubt anyway. I’m impressed."

"Surgery?" Nuriko was stalling, and Riaka knew it.

"Yeah. It’s pretty routine. See, I’m from California; it’s not as big a deal there as in other places, though it’s not something just everybody runs out and does. And it’s pretty expensive; I doubt the HMO’s pay for that kind of thing, unless you can prove some kind of psychological…well, no probably not even that anymore. Nevermind."

When Riaka looked up from her ramble, Nuriko’s face was turning interesting colors. Oh, you do know what I’m talking about! That means… "Nuriko, don’t freak out, girlfriend; I won’t tell anyone."

The princess looked Riaka in the eye for a long moment. Then she – he – nodded. "I believe you. Here." She handed Riaka a neatly folded stack of bleached rags, reclosed her saddlebag and remounted.

Riaka grinned and clumsily flung herself back aboard her horse. "Thank you," she said, waving the rags once before putting them away. Tamahome ignored them as hard as he could.

a d c b

On the third day out, Riaka came down with a fever.

"It’s just the flu," she told her companions. Of course it’s the flu; I’m in Asia, after all. Then a headache set in. And she didn’t have a sore throat.

"We should turn back," said Tamahome. Riaka had refused to eat since breakfast, though she would still drink if offered water. Nuriko shrugged.

"This isn’t the flu," said the Princess. At least it kept the cow quiet. Nuriko tried to ignore a twinge of sympathy. Riaka’s face had gone very pale. She was hunching up oddly in the saddle, and she had dropped the reins. Like Tamahome, Nuriko found she had a vague inner sense of something wrong with the Miko. "Riaka, what is it?" She laid a hand on Riaka’s arm, pulling their horses off the road and to a halt. Riaka flinched and swayed. She shivered with fever. Tamahome joined them and dismounted.

"Hurts," she whispered, unable to entirely stifle a moan. "In the joints…all over…Nuriko, please tell me this isn’t…plague or something."

Tamahome gasped, but Nuriko smiled. "No, Miko, it’s not plague, but I suspect what you have is breakbone fever. We’ll know if you get a rash, starting on your face and then spreading."

"Breakbone?" Riaka let Nuriko help her to dismount; she’d have fallen otherwise, the pain was becoming quite severe.

"Don’t worry," Nuriko said. "It’s usually not fatal."

"Usually…" Riaka whimpered.

"What can we do for her?" Tamahome asked. "Can she travel?"

Nuriko patted his shoulder and gave his biceps a pinch. "Relax, Tama-chan. I’ll make her some willowbark tea with feng-ling and valerian. Why don’t you make camp for tonight here, and we’ll head back in the morning."

Tamahome tended the horses, gathered wood and laid a small fire while Nuriko made Riaka as comfortable as possible. Riaka just tried to curl around her misery and spend as much time as possible in a kind of half-doze. This was probably the worst pain she’d ever felt, compounded with the high fever, though that came and went. The rash Nuriko predicted had developed by the next morning.

"Are you sure she can travel?" Tamahome asked again, as Nuriko lifted Riaka bodily onto her horse. Riaka kept her eyes closed and held on.

"There’s no choice," Nuriko pointed out. "The Emperor’s physicians can make her more comfortable than we can out here. The fever lasts several days. Full recovery can take much longer." And the Emperor will see how kind I am to his precious Miko…

Tamahome nodded. He climbed up behind Riaka to make sure she didn’t fall, and tied his horse’s reins to this one’s saddle. Nuriko smiled at them and mounted her own steed, leading them back along the forest road.

That night, Riaka tossed so much on her bedroll it was keeping Nuriko awake.

"Riaka," the Princess murmured kindly. "I can see you’re suffering. There’s a hot spring nearby in the forest known for it’s healing powers. Perhaps it will help."

Riaka bit back her initial response with some difficulty. I have a FEVER you moron, I DON’T want to go soak in a HOT spring!! But fever aside, the heat might help the pain in her joints and muscles. Anything was worth a try at this point. She was missing her world’s medical facilities badly. Even some real aspirin…the tea Nuriko had given her did nothing as far as Riaka could tell, the only benefit being it kept her hydrated. "OK, but you’re gonna have to help me; I’d never find it on my own."

"Of course." Nuriko considered things in irritation for a moment, then decided her plan would still work. She’d just have to hurry back.

Nuriko grabbed the sleeping Tamahome by the handiest extremity and pulled, dragging him over moss and stone until he woke, spitting and sputtering curses. "What the hell did you do that for!?!"

"I have a message for you from Riaka," Nuriko fluttered at him coyly.

"What?!" Was he still asleep, or was this really not making sense?

"She wants you to meet her at the mineral spring in the forest."

"Mineral…how’d she get out there? She can barely walk!"

Nuriko cleared her throat. "Um, I helped her…"

"You… And you left her there alone!?!"

"Ah, well…" But Tamahome was already running.

Riaka floated. The pool Nuriko had led her to was fairly shallow, so her feet trailed on the pebbly bottom, but that was fine. After helping her out of her clothes – Nuriko had already seen her naked anyway – Nuriko had settled her on a sort of stone shelf at one edge, and then ran off, ignoring Riaka’s calls to stay. Dammit, what if I pass out in here? But for a wonder her fever seemed to have faded, though the pain had not and whatever salts and minerals were in the water made the rash burn.

She endured this for a while, though, and the pain did indeed seem to ease some. Even a little was such a relief, though, she sank happily in up to her chin. Then, since no position was any less uncomfortable than any other, she slipped out toward the middle and floated on her back, with just her face out of the bearably hot water. She was still pretty buoyant, she found; though her legs really sank, now. She had to arch her back a little to stay horizontal. And thinking about all this was a nice distraction. When I grow up, I want to be a computational fluid dynamics engineer… There aren’t any leeches in here, I hope. In a hot spring, probably not. Wait, Montezuma’s Well. No, that wasn’t hot, was it? Oh well. Well; deep subject… If Nuriko doesn’t get back here I’m gonna strangle her. Him. Whatever. What is the sound of one Drag Queen strangling? Hello, lovely moon. I can’t get over how bright the sky is! Paint the sky with stars…

Someone was shouting. Glrm. Tamahome? Riaka put her feet down and stood up. Not a good idea. Blood rushed to her toes and she sank as her knees gave. She splashed around for a moment, regaining her balance.

"Riaka!" Tamahome dove in after her, and was lucky he dove shallow, or he would have broken his neck. As it was, he scraped the bottom, but grabbed what he thought was a drowning Riaka as he came up.

"Waaiiouff! Whoa, hello! Eep, Tamahome, I’m okay!" Riaka tried to backpedal, but he held her too tightly. The fear in his eyes startled her. "I’m okay, I’m okay! Just stood up too quick and lost my balance. It’s okay."

Tamahome took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He frowned. "It’s not ‘okay’. Nuriko shouldn’t have left you here."

"You got that right. I am feeling a little better, though. I think the fever’s mostly gone." Oh my. This is interesting. DOWN girl!! His clothes were billowing in the water, brushing against her bare skin, and he still held her, though her own arms were interposed between them, her hands clasped under her chin. The water was up to her shoulders. If only everything didn’t hurt!

He put the back of his hand to her forehead. "Yes, you are cooler."

No I’m not, ahem! But she squirmed, pushing herself away and sinking back into the water. Tamahome let her go with an apologetic sort of gasp. He turned abruptly and made his way to shore, jumping up onto the grassy bank in a rush.

"I’ll get Nuriko," he said, his back to her, and ran off into the trees.

"Damn!" said Nuriko, behind a tree. "I was sure he’d make a play for her!"

"Eh?" Riaka squinted fuzzily at the Princess. "Nuriko, what the smeg are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing."

"What ever. Would you help me, please?"

Nuriko helped Riaka get out of the spring and back into her clothes, and half-carried her back to camp.

a d c b

a d c b

By the next morning, Riaka’s fever had returned, worse than before. They couldn’t make her comfortable anyway, so they concentrated on making the best speed to the Palace.

When they reached the great steps of the Palace complex, Nuriko handed Riaka down to Tamahome, who ran with her – no mean feat – up and all the way to her rooms.

Hotohori was informed by Nuriko, while the Imperial Physicians were summoned. The Prime Physician confirmed Nuriko’s diagnosis of ‘breakbone fever’, and prescribed analgesic and sedative draughts.

"Emperor," said the Prime Physician. "Miko is very weak. Being Suzaku No Miko is a heavy responsibility. She’s stressed and exhausted, both physically and spiritually; she’s completely worn out. She’s a strong girl, but her spirit…"

"Will she recover?" Hotohori asked quietly.

"I can’t say for sure."

Hotohori gazed down at Riaka’s pale, drawn face. At least she was resting peacefully now. "Tamahome. Nuriko."

"Yes, Majesty."

"We must talk."

They retired to Hotohori’s private study. A simpler room than the formal chambers he used in more public functions. There was a large mirror…. Hotohori sat at his desk and set his forehead against his interlaced fingertips.

"Is there anything we can do? She’ll worsen if we don’t do something."

"In her case," said Nuriko, availing herself of a tray of succulent berries on one corner of the desk. "Let her go back to her own world."

"Nuriko, behave yourself," Tamahome chided. Nuriko was just a little too pleased with this idea, and Tamahome wasn’t sure why.

"But," Hotohori said. "Who knows the way to the other world?" He tapped his upper lip in thought. "Tai Yi-Jun."

"Tai Yi-Jun?" Tamahome and Nuriko echoed in unison.

"Yes. The one who gave us The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth. A benevolent wizard from Mount Dai-Shan. Tai Yi-Jun may know how to send Riaka back to her own world." Hotohori stood, putting both hands flat on the desktop. "Bring me The Four Gods’ Sky and Earth of Suzaku!"

a d c b

Six days later. The fever was gone for good now, and the pain as well. Riaka wanted to spring cartwheels around the room, but she didn’t have the energy.

Tamahome and Nuriko had been in to see how she was doing, but they bowed out as Hotohori entered.

"Riaka, how do you feel?" he asked as he sat gently at the edge of her bed.

"Much better, now. I’m actually conscious for five minutes together."

"Good." He shifted position slightly, and looked down at his hands. "I came to tell you, we’ve found a way, we think, to send you back to your own world."

"Send me back!?!" Riaka bolted upright, then swayed as the blood rushed from her head and grey sparkles clouded the center of her vision. Hotohori reached out and steadied her, and she clutched at him until her sight and equilibrium returned. "You can’t send me back," she gasped. "I’m not done here! I mean, I haven’t finished what I was set to do." She squinted at him. Her contact lens was in a tiny glass vessel with distilled water – a miniature, green-tinted saucer the Imperial Physicians had found fascinating to say the least. "As soon as I’m on my feet again, we’ll go back out…"

Hotohori held up a hand and she trailed off. "It isn’t your fault. But the Prime Physician feels you will recover far more swiftly and completely in your own world."

Riaka flopped back onto her pillows and rubbed her face. "But…"

"But when you have regained your health, please return to us; for the country’s sake." He looked away, considering. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. Riaka was herself a comparatively blunt person; he realized he didn’t have to couch his phrases in the most diplomatic terms with her. "When I was a young boy and was first told of the legend of Suzaku No Miko, I began to imagine what this girl from another world would be like. All my life, I have wondered and imagined, and I thought surely this girl could ease my loneliness. But…" He stopped, trying to gauge the reaction on her foreign face.

Riaka grinned at him, then laughed outright. "I’m not what you expected, am I?" At his wry expression, she howled and beat the covers. "All this time, you were expecting…and you got me!!… You poor thing…what a shock…oh lord…" She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her robe. An American in Ancient China… Oh boy!

"I am happy you’re amused. I didn’t want to offend you."

"I really threw your imaginings for a loop, huh?" Riaka sat up – more slowly this time – and thought about it. "It’s just as well, you know. What a load to hand someone: you’ve had this woman of your dreams in mind since you were a kid. Who could live up to something like that? Hotohori, dreams are splendid, but reality can be even better, if you let it."

The Emperor looked dumbfounded.

"Er," said Riaka. "Hey, listen to me, giving love advice – jeeze, what do I know, hm? Don’t stress on it okay?"

Hotohori smiled ruefully.

"All right then, what’s this way you’ve found to send me home?" Riaka still wasn’t happy with the idea of leaving the story only halfway begun, but if she could return, then there were a number of things she wanted to do back home, and things she wanted to get…

Hotohori explained about Tai Yi-Jun and Mount Dai-Shan. "It’s rather far, but I promise we’ll get you there."

"’We’? Are you coming too?"

"Yes. Ching Dai can manage while I’m gone." He chuckled at her look. "I have utmost confidence in his loyalty – more than I may explain. My Empire will be safe for me when I return."

"You’re lucky."

"I know it," he replied, smiling. "And beautiful, too."

"Argh." A yawn caught her off guard.

Hotohori patted her hand. "Rest now, Miko. And think of seeing your home again."

Riaka smiled, yawned again, rolled over and fell asleep.

a d c b

She awoke the next morning at something vaguely approaching a reasonable hour. Tamahome was at her table, counting coins and stringing them on a ribbon.

"Morning," she gargled at him on her way to the privy.

He looked up as she came out. "And it’s not even noon, yet," he said. He had alerted a servant, for now a warm but bland breakfast awaited her on the table.

"Mleh." She picked at the porridge-like substance, drank most of the water, then stared out the window at the garden.

"You should eat more than that, Riaka," Tamahome said, half sternly as he polished a particularly bright coin.

"Glek." This isn’t food…nevermind what it looks like. Besides, I can live off my fat for at least another month or two. I think. It’s hard to tell how much I’ve lost wearing loose robes that tie at the waist all the time. And I never did get around to mending my jeans. At least I still have my shoes. My underwear seems to have disappeared; probably got a little too grungy. Crawled off on its own to start an alien colony… "I wanna go home," she found herself saying.

Tamahome put down his coins and watched her.

"No, I don’t. What am I saying? Don’t listen to me, I need a bath."

"That’s true. Tell me, is there some magic talisman in your world, unavailable here, that helps you make more sense in the mornings,?"

"Yeah, it’s called coffee." Or Mountain Dew. Mountain Dewwwwww… I haven’t had any Dew in how long? Ee-vil! She got up and shambled down the hall to the bathing chamber.

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