She landed in a heap on the long council table, her green duffel thudding heavily on top, the rest of her baggage like unwieldy but colorful hail around her. Owww… That landing could have been better… Oh well, any landing you can walk away from, right? She rolled up to her hands and knees, looking around at all the startled faces surrounding her. Somehow her glasses had not fallen off.

At the head of the table, a familiar voice cried out. "Riaka!"

"Hotohori, uh, Majesty. Sorry for dropping in on you like this…" It was bad, but Riaka just could not pass up such an opportunity. Another couple of feet to one side and she’d have landed in Hotohori’s lap. She wriggled out of the straps of her duffel and slid off the table at the Emperor’s side, to immediately be engulfed in his fervent embrace.

Nani?

"Riaka. Suzaku No Miko, thank Sky and Earth you have returned at last!"

"What?" Uh oh. "Uh, how long have I been gone? It was only a few hours in my world."

"Three months have passed. Much has changed." Hotohori’s expression and tone of voice made it clear the change was not for the better.

Riaka rubbed her face tiredly. OK, this dimension-hopping thing sucks. How many hours have I been up? She looked around at the rest of the Ministers and smiled at Ching Dai. "Okay. Tell me."

Hotohori gestured and another chair was brought to the table. Riaka sat, feeling at a couple of just-acquired bruises.

"I can give you further details later, but for now I will simplify. War is coming at last." Riaka was glad that he didn’t sound thrilled at the prospect. "Tribes from the far north have united under a new king and are invading south. Hokkan, Genbu’s Country is already suffering, and they are therefore pushing at our borders. Qu-Dong is restless." Hotohori paused significantly. "And all four Miko have been called into this world."

Riaka waited. Hotohori looked at his hands. "Uh," said Riaka. "I’m guessing that’s weird somehow?" Actually she had, when she’d given it any thought at all, assumed there would be four Miko. It suited her sense of symmetry.

"Such a thing has never happened before," Hotohori explained. "The ancient records state that on one occasion three Miko appeared, but usually there are only one, or two, if two of the Lands war against one another."

"But not four," Riaka said.

"No."

"So…this is going to be bad, then?"

Hotohori smiled grimly. "I am afraid so."

"Mongolian hordes?"

"Mon-goh-lyahn?"

Maybe not, but then, what did the Chinese call them? Besides bad names… "What are the tribes called?"

"Miko-sama," Ching Dai interjected. "They call themselves ‘Kurgans’."

Riaka sat up straight in surprise. No, wait, don’t assume anything. And they certainly, well, almost certainly, don’t mean like in Highlander! There can be only one…

"You have heard of them in your world?" Hotohori asked.

Riaka waved the idea away. "Yes and no. The name may mean something different here; it doesn’t necessarily connect." She had taken some time while back home to look up a few things about the China of her world in the encyclopedia. Now she really had no idea when this Four Gods’ version was…

She started as she felt a hand laid against her cheek. Hotohori withdrew the gesture and smiled in concern. "Riaka, you seem tired. Your rooms await you, if you wish. It is late…" He did not say that he anticipated he and his counselors would be up for much later still, but Riaka understood.

"Oh, bless your little purple heart; I am tired." She got up and hoisted her duffel, someone had already collected the rest of her stuff and presumably taken it to her suite. "Details tomorrow, okay? My brain is way too fried right now. Night!" She waved at the rest of the ministers and counselors as she strode out the door.

* *** *

"Hello, Mei-Yin, don’t pick that up. Jeeze, I could stuff you in this thing and have room left over for a Sheltie." Riaka picked up her duffel before the diminutive maid could try it, and heaved it onto her bed. "How’re you doing?"

"I am well, Miko-sama. Is there anything I may do for you?" Mei-Yin dared a smile at the – to her – Amazonian Miko.

The Miko pulled off her shoes and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. "Bath? Please? And tell Nuriko if she steals my towels again I won’t give her the presents I brought her from my world."

Mei-Yin bowed and left her, grinning behind a hand.

A few minutes later, Nuriko herself barged into her room.

"Hey, Nuriko." Okay, it isn’t just Tamahome; they haven’t invented knocking yet.

"Riaka!" The Seishi caught her up into a Nuriko-hug; several things up and down Riaka’s back crackled and popped.

"Whoo!" Riaka exclaimed as Nuriko set her down. "Well, I’m two inches taller!" That’s two…man, I’ve gotta keep in mind that I’ve been gone so long, here! They keep taking me by surprise… "How are things with you?"

"Oh, you know me," Nuriko demurred, fluttering her sleeves vaguely.

"Proceeding gaily forward, hm?" Riaka said, grinning, wondering if the colloquialism would translate properly for the joke. Judging by Nuriko’s expression, it had.

"Riaka!" But then Nuriko laughed. "Oh, I like that!"

"Hey, I didn’t make it up." Who did I get that from? Was it Angela’s friends or Luri’s?

"Miko-sama’s bath is ready," Mei-Yin said from an inner doorway.

"Ah!" Riaka pulled a nightgown out of her duffel and waved the hand-dyed fabric at Nuriko. "Nuriko, I have some stuff you might like from my world, but we’ll do that later, tomorrow, right now I need a bath!"

"You certainly do."

"Out!!" Riaka shooed the laughing Seishi ahead of her out the door.

* *** *

Nuriko met Riaka for breakfast at a languid hour the next morning. Whoever did the cooking had remembered Riaka’s preferences from before and had her served a lighter meal of breads and fruit with chilled water to drink, while Nuriko ate the traditional handful-of-courses morning meal of the Palace.

"Where’d Tamahome get to?" Riaka asked, quite casually, as she split an apple with her MacGyver knife. She was surprised he hadn’t barged into her room at dawn to wake her for sparring practice.

"Oh, he left a couple of months ago," Nuriko replied, equally casual. "Soon after your friend the Seiryuu No Miko slipped in here, looking for you."

Riaka almost cut her thumb off. "The what?!?" That must have been one of the details Hotohori was going to tell her about later. "Luri?"

"Yes, I believe that’s what her name was. She wanted us to tell you she’d been here, and wanted to meet you somewhere to talk." Nuriko elegantly placed a piece of roast pork in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "She had one of her Seishi with her," she said after swallowing. "You should have seen Tamahome and that big blonde facing off like tomcats!" Nuriko giggled.

"Yeah?" Oh dear!

After breakfast, Riaka started unpacking, setting aside the things she’d brought for her Seishi, and a few of her favorite bath and body things. Nuriko watched curiously.

"Here," said Riaka. "These are for you." She gave the Willow two scarves; dyed in jewel tones, one teal and jade green in solid pressed velvet, the other cut velvet with blue and violet stripes of varying widths. The second set off the color of Nuriko’s eyes as nicely as Riaka thought it would.

"They’re beautiful!" Nuriko murmured, amazed. She had grown up with the opulence of a noble family, and had lived in the Imperial Palace itself for over a year, but she had never seen fabric quite like this before. She ran her hands over and over the silky nap, marveling over the cut velvet, wondering how long it had taken for such a pattern to be made.

Riaka wasn’t about to try to explain lasers and machine looms to anyone in this world, particularly when she didn’t know that much about them herself. So she piled the other part of Nuriko’s present on the table. "And you can pick out any of these that you like; they’re nail polishes; cheap and readily available in my world, but maybe not so here."

Nuriko made a face. Some of those colors were definitely not found in nature! Blues, greens, teals, lavenders and purples – even white! Nuriko had never even imagined nail lacquer in such bizarre colors. But… She hesitantly picked up one of the small, glass bottles, turning it around to watch the thick, pearlescent, almost metallic, liquid inside swirl heavily. Riaka grabbed another and opened it to show her the brush attached to the inside of the cap.

"That’s clever," Nuriko said, opening the one she’d picked and trying the lacquer on one slender pinkie nail. She didn’t like the smell, but the deep aubergine almost matched the highlights of her hair. "Hmm."

Riaka grinned. "You can play with them if you want. If you don’t like any of them you don’t have to mess with them; it’s up to you. But I knew you’d dig the scarves!"

"Er, yes. I do like them, very much!" She smiled and laughed and hugged Riaka again, not so hard this time. "Thank you, Riaka!"

"You’re welcome. Now." Riaka held up two bags of henna. "If we have time before meeting with Hotohori, if he has time, I want to deal with my hair. I can do it by myself, but it’s more fun with a girlfriend…" She raised her eyebrows in question.

Nuriko winked. "Of course! What are we doing?"

"Well, when Tai Yi-Jun…gave me my hair back, I guess she made it grow out somehow, and I lost my red tint. I want it back, so I brought my henna."

Nuriko nodded, she’d heard of the practice from barbarian lands far, far to the west and south. As she and Riaka mixed up the mud-like dye, Nuriko made some suggestions for a few herbal additions they might make for conditioning. Riaka hedged a little, then decided to go for it. Nuriko had the beauty routine thing down; she probably knew what she was doing.

Riaka washed the stuff out after about an hour.

"Um." She walked over to a window to examine her wet hair in direct sunlight, though the true color wouldn’t show until it dried. "Well, this is interesting."

"Eek!" Nuriko commented. "It wasn’t that color before! What happened?"

"We did add stuff."

"Ohhhh, I’m so sorry!" Nuriko honestly thought her hair was Riaka’s only beauty, and would feel wretched if she had ruined it.

"Don’t freak. Let’s just wait till it dries. I think I kinda like it."

"You would," Nuriko said ruefully.

"Yes." Riaka turned to Nuriko, a little embarrassed, but determined to broach the subject. "Now that we have my head hair in order, I have another…cosmetic problem I’ve been meaning to ask you about…"

* *** *

When word finally came that afternoon that Hotohori had arranged a meeting time, Riaka decided to leave her hair loose, just to see if she got a reaction. The added herbs of Nuriko’s had worked some kind of alchemical strangeness: the hair at the nape of Riaka’s neck was now a dark, glossy crimson – not mahogany or reddish brown, but crimson. Like venous blood, Riaka thought, though she didn’t voice such an unflattering comparison. Well, I’ve seen roses this color…I think… Meanwhile the silver, more plentiful than before, had been turned a bright red-gold; and all the shadings in between were streaked and dappled through the long waves of her tresses. Not quite brindled, not really spotted like an Appaloosa. Riaka liked it. "I’ve always thought I should’ve been born a redhead," she said. "The only problem is, will we be able to duplicate the formula when my roots start to show?"

Nuriko thought she was just trying to be nice. But Riaka was too happy with her red, and with the other hair solution Nuriko had given her, to notice.

Hotohori did a classic double-take, but was far too polite to actually say anything about the hues of her hair, so she was somewhat disappointed. "Good afternoon, Riaka. As I promised, I have more information for you." he said, gesturing her closer and indicating the large map spread out on the table before him. He had considered her penchant for drawing and realized her mind probably worked best visually. "This is a map of all the Four Lands, including some outlying areas for reference, and the approximate location of Mount Dai-Shan, here in the center. The villages along the northern border have been attacked and mostly overrun by both organized military and fugitive groups from Hokkan. Each day they press further southward. To the east, some towns have also been under attack by forces that may or may not be sanctioned by the Qu-Dong Emperor; I suspect the latter, but the nature of some of the attacks is peculiar enough we are not certain."

"What do you mean?" Riaka idly traced the course of a large river. She was sure the general area of the Four Lands was indeed homologous to China, most of southeastern China at least, in her world, but the interior topography wasn’t quite the same, and the scale could be way off. They don’t exactly have satellites to get photos from, now, do they…

"The stranger attacks are apparently by a single…being. Some folk say it is a large wolf, others insist it is a man-shaped thing. Maddened by something, for it howls continuously." Hotohori shook his head. "In any case, our borders are being crossed."

Riaka tapped the map and fished for a polite way to ask her next question, not sure how touchy the subject might be. Then gave up. "So, what are you doing?"

Hotohori smiled at her hesitation. "Our armies, such as they are, are gathering. Hongnan is not – has never been – known for great military strength. But with Suzaku’s help, this will not matter."

Riaka leaned back. "Aaahh, divine intervention. Convenient. No, no, I’m not trying to be sarcastic; I’m serious. It’s interesting that here you actually have gods that manifest, that you can count on." I wonder if they’re super-powered beings from another planet like Apollo on Classic Trek? Might as well call ‘em gods, right? Or is this like the Shin’a’in Star-Eyed? Well, not like, really. Their own version. But in any case, gods that get physical and walk around, not physical as in immanent, like the Goddess. Or abstract like most Protestant versions of Jehovah. All right, that’s a can of worms… Well and well. "Eep, and I’m the intermediary!"

Hotohori smiled. "Did you forget?"

"Well, sorta." Riaka squirmed. This wasn’t a comfortable idea.

"Are there no gods and Miko in your world?"

"Uhhh. Yes and no. Lots of different gods, lots of ways to be a priestess or priest, but…" Riaka didn’t want to get into her own salad bar of spiritual beliefs at the moment. "It would take too long to explain. Nuriko mentioned something about my friend, Luri coming over for a little visit?"

"Yes. My apologies for not telling you sooner; more pressing matters drove it from my mind. She came in search of you, accompanied by one of her Seishi. We believe she is near to having all seven assembled. Her visit was quite brief; I did not see her, but Tamahome and Nuriko did."

"Did she know about all four Miko?"

"I do not know. Nuriko said her accompanying Seishi’s name was Nakago. This may be the same as Jiangjun Nakago, the famous Qu-Dong General and master of a far-reaching spy network. He must know, and I would imagine she would therefore also."

"Huh. Okay. So all four are gearing up. Seems like that means something threatens all Four Lands. Has there been a lot of tension lately? When I was here before, the people didn’t act like war was imminent or anything. Not that I was paying that much attention…"

Hotohori smiled. "No, you are right. Until recently, we had no inkling of such danger originating from within the Lands. Qu-Dong is always on the edge of civil war, but that is normal."

"So why is it such a weird idea that the Four Gods should be needing to team up?"

He shook his head. "This has never been done. The Four Gods are separate and sovereign. They are sometimes enemies, but never allies."

Riaka looked up at him. "Yeah, but you said all four Miko had never come at once before, either. First time for everything."

Hotohori lifted his feather-like, elfin brows at her. "Indeed."

Whoops. Did I just challenge a basic assumption? Well, why bring your Miko all the way from another world if you don’t want that kind of thing to happen? Hey, might be something to that. Things around here get too stagnant; people get a little too into being traditional, and these gods dig a little chaos now and then, so… Riaka warned herself not to get too fond of her hypothesis, but she still liked the idea.

"Tamahome said she seemed worried about you," Hotohori said.

Riaka blinked. "Huh? Oh. Johnny Segue. Right. Was she okay? You said she already has most of her Seishi, so she must be doing something right. Doing better than I am, that’s for sure."

Hotohori came around the table and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Riaka. Do not feel so. Your friend is quite well, and you have done much for us already." He swallowed uncomfortably. "Oneesan, you saved my life…" He had not himself seen what the fire had done to her, but Nuriko and Tamahome had – at his insistence – given him the full tale.

A shiver shrilled through her. Oh. Yeah. I did, didn’t I. In the movies, usually the hero brushed such thanks off casually – "That’s two you owe me, junior." Avoiding an emotional scene? But Riaka had read other things. Saving someone’s life was a big deal, and playing it off was beyond rude. That didn’t mean she knew how to handle it. "Um…you’re…I…it – it was an honor, your Majesty." And I couldn’t have done anything else, under the circumstances. Probably Tai Yi-Jun knew that, grr.

"Riaka." Hotohori settled both hands on her shoulders. "It is no light matter, saving the life of the Emperor."

Riaka gulped. "I can imagine."

Hotohori smiled only slightly at her expression, but his golden eyes were gleaming. "Anything you ask of me," he said, "I will do."

Riaka’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times. "The mind boggles,’ she finally managed.

Hotohori chuckled and hugged her then let her go. "What is boggling?’

"I haven’t the foggiest," Riaka replied. "But you can believe I’ll be taking you up on that offer. Just as soon as I figure out something suitably splendid to ask for."

Hotohori could think of a few things right off, but he wisely kept them to himself.

"Oh! Speaking of stuff," Riaka said suddenly, throwing her hands up in the air. "I have something for you – I’ll be right back!" She dashed off, but returned a few moments later, with two small, tissue-wrapped packages. "Here." She handed them to the Emperor.

The first was a peculiar arrangement of beads and clear crystals, with a larger, opalescent crystal suspended by clear threads of some kind in the center of an octagonal web. It was somewhat tangled, and Riaka spread it out on the table to help get it sorted out. "I made this to hang under the little skylight in my room at home," she explained. "You have so many beautiful ornaments here in the palace, this won’t stand out much, but…"

"But it was made by the hand of the Miko, and my oneesan, and is therefore worth more to me than all the others." He cocked his head and regarded the weblike arrangement again. "A skylight, you say?" Now he could see immediately what the design was meant to look like, suspended from a ceiling, with the fringes hanging down, and the crystals scattering rainbows everywhere.

"Uh huh." Riaka wondered what he was going to do. Start knocking holes in the palace ceilings?

Hotohori opened the second, smaller packet. His golden eyes widened in astonishment. From the folds of tissue he lifted two lacy silver leaves. Riaka grinned widely at his expression, bouncing on her heels. She had thought these would knock the socks off even the most jaded Emperor. Not that Hotohori was particularly jaded, but there weren’t any parallels to this process in this world, she was pretty sure. They might be able to figure it out with these examples, unless some part required 20^th century materials. "I don’t know how these are made, but those are real leaves. Maple and oak. They treat them so there’s just the veining left, then somehow coat them with metal. I’ve seen these in gold and copper, but I like silver, so that’s all I had." And they were even suspended on appropriately red ribbons, since they were originally intended as Christmas ornaments.

"Riaka," Hotohori murmured. "These are…extraordinary. I…I thank you, Miko-sama." He bowed slightly to her, then grinned and gave her a big, brotherly hug. "Thank you, Riaka. Oneesan. For many things."

Riaka reached up and ruffled the Emperor’s hair. "You’re welcome, for many things. Little Brother…"

* *** *

That night, Riaka poked her head into Hotohori’s study, and finding only Ching Dai there with him, said, "Oh, good, he can hear this, too."

"Come in, Riaka," said Hotohori. "What is it?"

"I have something to ask you. Don’t get too excited, it’s not a big thing. Or maybe it is, under the circumstances, but I don’t know… "

Hotohori and Ching Dai exchanged a glance.

"Okay, right. What I’d like to do is somehow send a message to Luri, the Seiryuu No Miko, letting her know I’m back in this world, and can we meet somewhere to talk."

Hotohori sat back in his chair.

"I mean, the spy network in Qu-Dong might already have told her, but I think I ought to tell her myself…"

Ching Dai sat up straighter. "How do you know of the Qu-Dong spy network?"

Riaka grinned at him. "I may look asleep most of the time, but I was listening during all those council and court sessions Tamahome and I sat in on. Plus Hotohori mentioned it earlier…"

"Can this be done?" Hotohori asked, winking at Riaka over Ching Dai’s surprise. "A messenger bird perhaps?"

"We have none trained to go to Qu-Dong, Your Majesty. A human messenger might serve, however. Compose your message, Miko-sama, I will think on who would be good to send."

"Thank you thank you! Night, guys." She sketched a bow and closed the doors behind her as she left.

Back in her own room, she brought out a sheet of her own paper – hydrangea stationery she’d bought on a vacation with Luri – and settled down to write. I wonder if I can still write in English? That would be one code no-one else in Qu-Dong could read, and Luri would then know for sure who it was from.

Riaka found she could indeed still write in English, but it took a great deal of concentration to do so; her hand kept wanting to make calligraphic characters. But after much scratching out of mistakes, she managed to get a brief note written:

My dear Tallihensia…

* *** *

Riaka took one more day to rest up, sleeping for most of it, then she and Nuriko set out to retrieve Tamahome and start anew the quest for the remaining Seishi. To find Tamahome, all they had to do was home in on his link. Nuriko knew he was alive and well, but couldn’t distinguish anything more, so Riaka found herself in the novel position of leading the way.

But, several days later, Nuriko was still at a loss. "Actually, Riaka, I think he must be out of my range or something, because I can’t get a direction on him at all," Nuriko confessed as they rode through the countryside.

Riaka grinned at her. "Bet you can find Hotohori in a hurricane, though!"

Nuriko looked troubled. "Maybe. I think… I’m not very well linked to the rest of you."

Oh, no you don’t! Riaka recognized that feeling all too clearly. "Your link is as strong as the others, Nuriko. Stronger right now because you’re close. Maybe you just aren’t as good yet at sensing them is all. Just give it time." Riaka made a face. "The whole idea kinda takes some getting used to." Reading about telepathic circles, empathic bonds and variations in books from McCaffrey and Lackey to Bradley and "Doc" Smith was one thing, but Riaka had never contemplated actually experiencing anything like it.

She sighed and looked at the sky, letting Bu Xing follow Nuriko’s horse without further guidance, or interference, from her. If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were at altitude, the sky’s such a dark blue! I guess the Central Valley Haze does make a difference… Riaka breathed deeply, trying to sort out all the myriad smells – none of which were car exhaust, the dusty limestone smell of concrete or the chemical fumes she was used to at work. Sun on fields, clear water, animals, the horses and the leather of their gear, Nuriko’s perfume; spicy and woodsy, with a hint of musk; it suited her…him…well. Someone had found the trick of breeding late-blooming roses. Several houses in the village they were passing through were almost hidden by the fragrant blooms. The flowers didn’t have the cabbage shape, just the basic five petals of heraldic roses, but their sweet, velvety scent was almost enough to make Riaka drunk.

Nuriko thought is was a fairly nice day, though they could still be hit by storms, and she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with that without Hotohori there to at least dry their clothes off between dousings. She’d been steering Riaka to hostels and inns as much as possible; Hotohori had given them more than enough gold to make this trip comfortable. Nuriko looked at Riaka sidelong. The Miko seemed lost in her own private world. No conversation. Boring. Nuriko hummed to herself for a while. Her voice was well trained and pleasing to the ear, as befitted a lady of her rank. But it wasn’t as much fun when no-one was listening. She knew there was an easy way to get the Miko’s attention, though.

"Tamahome’s in love with you, you know."

Riaka turned and blinked at her. "What?" Then, replaying the Princess’s words, she snorted. "Nuriko, you are out of your cross-dressing little mind. He is not."

But the Willow Seishi persisted, grinning. "When you left, he just lost it. He couldn’t concentrate on anything; forgot to eat, wandered around aimlessly. He tried going into the city to earn money, but he’d come back a few hours later as if he couldn’t remember why he’d gone. Finally he took off for good two months ago. And you’re blushing." Should I tell her about him stealing those drawings? No, let him get into trouble for that on his own…!

"Shut up, I am not. All that could have other reasons. He’s worried about the god-calling, and what we’ll all have to do before and after. And none of us realized I’d be gone so long. He just got tired of sitting around on his duff. With me gone, he doesn’t have any official Palace duties like you do." Riaka twisted the end of her braid earnestly. "He was bored. Or maybe he went to try to find the other Seishi on his own."

Nuriko was smug. "No, he wasn’t. And he didn’t because he’d have said something if it was something like that; believe me, he wasn’t that coherent." I’ve seen men struck like that before. Even he doesn’t know it yet. I wish Hotohori would… But things had been uncomfortable between her and the Emperor since her true sex had been revealed. To say the least!

"Nuriko, you’re in love yourself, so you want to see everyone else that way, too. You’re imagining things."

"No, I’m not." Nuriko blinked. "Not imagining things, I mean. Why are you so determined to deny it? Don’t you love him?"

"Ig! Nuriko!" Riaka spluttered for a moment, groping for words. "I just don’t think you’re right, that’s all. I was only here for a month!"

"What does time have to do with it?" the Willow answered reasonably.

Riaka ran a couple of lines from a Tina Turner song through her mind, then sighed. "All right, fine. But I never got anything like that from him over the link." Not that I’d have necessarily recognized it if I had. The links were still rather primitive. Riaka sort of saw them as being underground, like the roots of adjacent trees, only not as ramified. Subtler emotions and thoughts were not part of the package.

"And what was he getting from you, hm?" Nuriko’s violet eyes sparkled impishly.

Riaka’s face went red, then white, then red again. "Oh. My. Gods." This had actually never occurred to her. Did I ever? Did he? Would he realize…? Several incidents came to mind, now, where she’d been thinking certain kinds of things, being the red-blooded-American-girl she was. Talk about primitive… And she liked giving her mind free rein; after all, what else was fantasy for, anyway? She had also learned from experience that she was quite good – sometimes unfortunately so – at hiding her emotions. Assuming – as was reasonable until recently – that what went on inside her cranium was entirely private. And it wasn’t, now. Entirely. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh shit………..!!!

Nuriko was laughing so hard she almost fell off her horse.

It’s not funny, Riaka thought in anguish. "Maybe we can just go around to find the other Seishi first, then pick Tamahome up later. He’s probably fine where he is, right?"

Nuriko’s laughter broke off in mid-gale. "Riaka, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing! It’s just awfully embarrassing, don’t you think?"

Nuriko frowned. "You can’t lie to me, you know. Even I can sense that much. You can tell me, there’s no-one here but us girls…"

Riaka had to snort at that. But Nuriko was right; she could tell her. Him. Nuriko was nothing if not superb at keeping secrets.

"You are in love with him, aren’t you."

Riaka flinched. "No. Yes. Sort of. I don’t know! Arg. What a mess. We have enough to do without all this stupid…" She gestured vaguely, helplessly.

Nuriko leaned over precariously in the saddle. "I sympathize."

Riaka blinked. Ouch. "I believe you."

They rode on in silence for a while. The afternoon air was vivid with the colors and scents of late summer. Ripe fruit, green fields and trees and mountainsides, heavy mud from the rains, the tiny spears of the year’s last rice crop just beginning. Riaka tried to lose herself again in the brightness of the landscape, not wanting to think about their conversation.

But Nuriko dug it up again. "Why don’t you want Tamahome to know how you feel about him?" The Seishi could think of a lot of reasons, but she wanted to know what Riaka’s specifically were.

"It’s just better if he doesn’t. Better still if I didn’t feel…this way, but it’s too late for that now. I haven’t been in love with anyone for a long time. I thought I’d escaped it for good. When I’m in love I act like a goofy sixteen-year-old. Write really bad poetry, the whole nine yards. I hate it! I feel like a moron! It’s embarrassing. But once it starts all I can do is ride it out and hope I don’t do anything too stupid." Riaka supposed it felt good to admit it, finally. At least now she had someone to vent to. That by itself would keep her going for months. And they were going to be busy with finding the other Seishi and the god-calling, and dealing with the Kurgans. By the time all that was taken care of, maybe this crush of hers would have blown over. Has that ever worked? No, but I’ve never been a Miko before either.

"Riaka…" Nuriko bit her lips. She understood; well, everyone had their painful pasts, and the commonness of that did not lessen the sorrow and pity of it. "If you love someone, isn’t better if they know? Especially if we’re heading into danger—"

"Dammit, I know! I know all that about ‘love withheld, denied’! That’s what always gets me into trouble! They never want me back, Nuriko. It’s always one way or the other, but never met in the middle. And I wouldn’t know how to handle it if it did, anyway." Riaka clenched her fists. She hadn’t wanted to say that. Honesty was so annoying!

"But, Riaka, I’m telling you, he…"

"No, he doesn’t. You’re hallucinating." Why would he, anyway? But I can’t say that, it’s just fishing for compliments, and I hate that. "It’s just not in me to believe it, that’s all." Except another part of her did, and thought, Of course he does, why wouldn’t he? I’m exotic here; powerful, interesting, and we’re friends, right? Oh shut up…

"We’ll find out when we find him," Nuriko pointed out, grinning.

"No, you’ll just see what you want to see, and now you’ve planted the idea in my head so I will too. That has nothing to do with the reality of his feelings. And don’t you go putting ideas in his head, either, thank you very much!" She shook a finger at the Willow, only half-jokingly.

"Oh, you’re no fun!"

"Nuriko…"

"All right, all right. Hey, how’d it get so dark, so suddenly?" They had ridden on into a wood, but even the close-growing trees shouldn’t have blocked so much light as to make it seem midnight rather than late afternoon.

Riaka looked around, not quite alarmed yet. "Eh?" A sudden movement ahead spooked her mare; Bu Xing, usually so mild-mannered, reared, striking out with her front hooves. Riaka just barely grabbed a handful of mane in time to keep from losing her seat. Nuriko shouted a warning. A dim figure emerged from the undergrowth.

"Who are you?" a stern voice demanded.

"What?" Riaka said nervously, though Bu Xing had calmed as suddenly as she’d spooked. She felt something oddly familiar, but so out of context her mind just wasn’t interpreting it coherently.

"We mean no harm," Nuriko called out. "We’re just traveling through…"

A torch flared, – Riaka winced -- then more; Nuriko and Riaka saw they were surrounded. Men with farm implements held like weapons, and grim, frightened expressions. The one confronting them most directly held a large, two-handed scythe. Thanatos, I presume? Riaka thought. Where’s Mortis, your pale horse?

The something in Riaka’s mind finally, ponderously clicked into place. "Tamahome!"

One of the torch-bearers came forward, illuminating that fine-featured, silver-eyed face; the pointed chin and feathery hair…Riaka’s heart drummed her entire body. Drums…Drums in the Deep… She slid from the saddle. Jeeze, why am I reacting like this? I only just saw him a few days ago!

He stared at her silently, eyes glowing in the torchlight.

"Do you know them?" the man nearest asked him. Tamahome’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He approached her stiffly, so unlike his usual lithe self Riaka took a step toward him, irrationally afraid.

"Hey, Tamahome—"

"Riaka…" he whispered, reaching out with his free hand to brush across her cheek to her hair. He let the scythe fall and drew her into his arms.

Three months! "Gods, Tamahome. I’m sorry," she murmured, hugging him and rubbing his back gently. "I’m sorry I was gone so long; it was only six hours or so on my end. I didn’t mean to worry yall. If I’d known…" Oh goddess, he feels good…smells good… Aack!!! The link!! Down, girl! Leave the poor boy alone. She struggled to smother her feelings, stuff them back in their box, hoping it wasn’t too late; she wasn’t used to stifling herself like this... She patted his shoulder in what she hoped was a properly maternal manner. "Hey, now I have my Crab back, we can find the others, ne?"

He let her go slowly. Nuriko cleared her throat, and Tamahome jumped back almost guiltily, looking around at the men and Nuriko as if only just recalling their presence.

Tamahome cleared his own throat. "Hefei, Weng, it’s all right, these are friends of mine..."

"We figured that out," Hefei said aside to Weng.

"…Nuriko and Riaka." Tamahome turned to the Miko and Willow. "These men are from a nearby village. They’ve hired me to protect them; there have been a lot of suspicious-looking people sneaking around recently…"

A gust of wind blew out the torches. All of them.

Tamahome’s attention was on their surroundings; Riaka was grabbed from behind and pulled away. A strange sense of blurring flowed through her; she held still until it stopped. The she threw herself against whoever it was, scrabbling for arms and kicking at legs. She was let go instantly.

The gloom seemed less here; as she spun around to face him, she could see her attacker clearly. Eh?

He was rubbing his shin where she’d kicked him, but a smile was on his peculiar, too-smooth, too-perfectly-oval face. He was sharp-featured, like a fox, with odd, curving slits for eyes, and Riaka could have sworn his hair was actually blue.

"You’re a fighter," he said. His voice was high-pitched, disguised, Riaka thought; or some kind of affectation. "That’s good, no da. I should have warned you before I saved you, no da."

"Huh?"

"You’ll have to be more careful, Suzaku No Miko; you’re a target for assassination, no da." With that, the strange young man tapped his jangling staff against the ground and disappeared into his wide, conical hat.

"When the going gets weird," Riaka said, kneeling to examine the hat where it had fallen, "the weird turn pro."

"Riaka!"

"Over here, Tamahome," she called. "I’m okay."

Tamahome leaped out of the trees and skidded to a halt beside her. "What the hell happened!?"

"Dunno. This guy just grabbed me, dragged me out here and let me go. He said it was good that I’m a fighter, and that I’m now a target for assassination. Oh goody." She poked the hat with a nearby stick. "And then he disappeared into this." She picked up the hat and stood, turning it around in her hands.

"Assassins," Tamahome said. This wasn’t much of a surprise. He and Hotohori had discussed the possibility before.

Men’s cries and a shriek from Nuriko sounded faintly from the clearing they’d left behind.

Riaka and Tamahome looked at each other for a second, then ran. Riaka wondering the while what she thought she was doing: a sensible person ran away from screams, not toward! She absently slung the fox-faced man’s hat around her neck by its cord.

When they found the clearing again – homing in on Nuriko’s link – Nuriko was contorted up against a tree, pinned but not pierced by a dozen arrows. The men who’d accompanied Tamahome all lay on the leaf-strewn ground; arrows in eyes, throats, hearts – every barb had struck something vital. Dumbfounded, Riaka checked them all anyway, while Tamahome helped Nuriko get unstuck.

"They’re all dead," Riaka said calmly. She was in clinical mode for now, and she’d seen human cadavers before. Just not so…fresh.

"Nuriko," said Tamahome urgently. "What happened?"

After a moment, the Willow caught her breath.

"When the torches went out, I thought I heard something, then you took off after Riaka and arrows started flying out of the trees." Nuriko pointed at a spot on the ground, where seven arrows were grouped in a tight pattern, buried halfway up the shafts from the force of their flight. "I’d swear they were aiming for where Riaka was standing."

Riaka stared at the arrows; the clinical set to her mind becoming a deeper chill. She looked around at the bodies of the villagers. "They killed all these people trying to get to me." Her hands balled into shaking fists.

"Riaka." Nuriko and Tamahome reached out to her in worry, and to comfort, but were stopped by the look on their Miko’s face. And the stark emotion pounding though the links.

Riaka stood still, trying to understand what she was feeling. Icy, metallic, solidifying into her core; it kept sickness and a few other things at bay. "Coming after me is one thing," she snarled. "But leave the god damned civilians out of it! RAT BASTARDS!!" She shouted the last at the trees, not caring if the assassins heard or not. She stood still, wanting to commit a great deal of violence.

She turned to her Seishi and closed the rage away softly behind a very careful kind of door. She would open it again later. When she needed it.

Tamahome led Riaka and Nuriko, once they’d found their horses, back to the village. He introduced them to the innkeepers’ family he’d been staying with, and had a party sent back for the bodies. Riaka washed the blood off her hands, and joined her Seishi at a table in the common-room for dinner. Riaka picked at a few things, ate a couple of slices of bread, drank without tasting a cup of tea, then sat on the end of the bench with her knees drawn up and her back against the wall. Thinking. Feeling nothing but a curious detachment.

Tamahome brooded over the lives of the men he’d chosen to come with him on patrol – Hefei, Weng, the others -- the price of command. Hotohori maybe knew how to cope with it, but Xong Gui-Siu the farmer’s son did not.

Nuriko was just ecstatic to still be alive.

* *** *

Riaka woke unwontedly early the next morning, with vague recollections of unsettling dreams she’d much rather forget. Something wasn’t right. Well, of course not! Someone tried to kill me last night, and killed a bunch of other people instead! A faint jingling sounded outside the window of the room she and Nuriko shared. A horse whickered and stamped. Riaka got up and squinted nearsightedly through the wooden slats that took the place of glass in the window. The sun wouldn’t be up for another hour or two, but there was enough light to distinguish that particular figure to Riaka’s eye.

What the smeg’s he…? Hm. I guess I’m not the only one upset over last night. "Nuriko." Riaka nudged the Willow with a foot. "Nuriko, wake up. Tamahome’s trying to sneak off without us."

"Mwa?"

"Hotohori’s streaking through the village square."

"Very funny," Nuriko said, quite clearly. And she did sit up.

They repacked in a rush, not having unpacked much to begin with, and slipped out into the predawn chill, following Tamahome by link rather than sight.

They traveled through that day and the next, eating in the saddle and making a cold camp for the night, at which Nuriko grumbled, but only briefly. They were following a road, but it passed through wild lands, fieldless and untenanted.

"This is the Shou-Shuang Prefecture. We’re not that far from the Qu-Dong border, I think," Nuriko commented. "Just another couple of days ride east."

Riaka got out the map Hotohori had given her. "Show me."

Nuriko obliged, pointing out their position. "Are you thinking of visiting your friend Luri?"

Riaka stared at the map for a moment, then put it away. "Yeah. But I’m wondering how much trouble we’d get into, going into Qu-Dong right now."

Nuriko grinned. "Probably a lot. But let’s catch that rascal Tama-chan first, ne?"

"Right," Riaka answered absently, looking east.

* *** *

At last they came to a village – a good-sized one, they could see as they came over the ridge that overlooked the place. Mountains to the right, blue ribbon of river to the left, with the tidy huts, green fields and gardens, shops and common buildings between. They rode down the main street, shaded by ancient oaks.

"Well, if it isn’t young Xong Gui-Siu," said a grey-haired elder up ahead.

Riaka and Nuriko kneed their horses off behind a hedge. They had inadvertently caught up to Tamahome before they’d meant to.

"Good afternoon, Grandfather," the familiar voice replied.

"Come home for a visit, eh? It’s been quite a while."

"Yes, sir."

Nuriko made the three-O’s face at Riaka. "This is Tamahome’s village!" she hissed, winking.

"Yeah. I’m blind, Nuriko, not deaf."

"Oh yes, I forgot."

Riaka stuck her tongue out at her. They peered around the hedge and saw that Tamahome had ridden onward. Letting him get a greater lead again, they followed.

Tamahome dismounted at a small cottage, a bit shabby and run-down around the edges, but otherwise neat enough. Tethering the horse at a post, he slung his pack over his shoulder and opened the door. "Chueh! Yu-Lun! Chun-Jing! Jie-Lian! Was everyone good?"

A chorus of child-voices hailed him, as his brothers and sisters converged on their older brother. Tamahome let them bowl him over, laughing and hugging them all at once. After a few moments he went on inside to greet his father. Xong Go-Siu lay on his bed, once tall and hale like his eldest son, now weakened and emaciated by a long illness.

"Pops, I’m home."

"Tamahome." Xong raised a thin hand to clasp that of his son.

"How do you feel?" Tamahome pulled a long string of coins out of his tunic. "Look, I brought enough to last us quite a while this time."

"Forgive me, son, I’m fine. Chueh’s been taking care of the fields."

Tamahome ruffled his younger brother’s hair. "Chueh, you’re a good boy."

"But I’m not doing well," Chueh protested. "They’re not fruiting."

Tamahome just smiled wider and bounced the sting of coins. "Well, then it’s a good thing I went to the city."

Xong sighed, but still felt compelled to take up what had become an old refrain as his eldest son grew into maturity. Not that the boy ever listened anyway. "Tamahome, I’m happy that you care about us, but I want you to start thinking of your own happiness. Think about getting married…"

"Pops…it’s all right…about me." Tamahome squeezed the old man’s hand, then stood. "Well, I’d better be going. Chueh, take care of the family in my place."

"You have to go so soon?" Chun-Jing said plaintively.

Jie-Lian wrapped herself around her big brother’s knees. "Niichan, DON’T GO!"

Tamahome knelt and hugged her. "Tell ya what, Jie-Lian. Next time I’ll bring you a doll."

"Niichan, I like YOU better!"

Tamahome closed his eyes and gathered his young siblings near. "Jie-Lian. Niichan will do anything for your happiness. I’ll grit my teeth and do ANY kind of job. So, please be a bit patient."

Jie-Lian just nodded and leaned against him, with such an uncharacteristic lack of volume and volubility, Tamahome’s big-brother-alarm went off.

"Jie-Lian, what is it?" Tamahome felt her forehead; she had a fever.

"She’s supposed to be in bed," Chueh asserted, hands on hips. "But when you came…"

"Ah, I see." Tamahome winked at Chueh and stood, hoisting Jie-Lian in his arms. "Well, then it’s back to bed with you, young lady." Chueh went back to his supper preparations.

"Nooo! Wanna stay with Niichan!" Jie-Lian made puppy-eyes; this often worked, though not always.

"But you’re sick," Tamahome said reasonably. He carried her to her bed-niche in the other room. "I’ll stay right here with you…" He tucked her in, then turned toward the door, waiting.

Someone knocked. Chueh set the spoon down and started to answer it, but Tamahome got there first. "Nuriko, Riaka, you might as well come in and join us."

Nuriko sashayed in, and made a face at what to her were rather squalid surroundings.

"Okay, check this out, Tamahome," Riaka said, pausing at the doorframe. "This is what’s called ‘knocking before entering’…!"

"Very funny," he said, pulling her inside and shutting the door. "You followed me."

Nuriko rolled her eyes.

Riaka waved her arms above her head, dislodging some twigs and dust from the rafters. "Whoops, sorry…. Well, duh! Of COURSE we followed you! What did you THINK we were gonna do? Just let you sneak off in the middle of the night!?!" Through eel-infested waters?!

"It was almost dawn, Riaka." Tamahome crossed his arms over his chest.

"Same thing!" Riaka shot back. "You could have just said you were going to visit your family."

"She’s got you there," Nuriko interjected.

"Can we talk about this later?" Tamahome said, just a little tightly. Riaka would be easier to deal with, a small part of his mind noted, if she didn’t keep sticking her chest out like that.

"Yes, we can," Riaka answered, grinning.

"Am I right? Are you Niichan’s wife?" Yu-Lun inquired. Riaka laughed outright. The other children chimed in, Jie-Lian getting out of bed again, while Tamahome, face scarlet, made the introductions. "…Pops, this is the Suzaku No Miko, Riaka." He patted Riaka on the head – a gesture she thought she tolerated rather well, considering her impulse was to elbow him in the stomach. "And this guy’s gay – I mean the Suzaku Seishi, Nuriko."

"Taaamaaa--!" Nuriko began, shaking her fist at him.

"Then it’s true," Xong said, gazing in wonder at the Miko. "I am honored that the Suzaku No Miko should visit such a run-down house…"

Riaka didn’t know what to say to this, but Nuriko jumped into the gap with just the right phrases of politeness.

Meanwhile, Riaka knelt down to take a look at Jie-Lian. "Got a fever, there, kiddo. Didn’t your big brother just tell you to stay in bed?"

"No. Chueh did."

Riaka snorted. "You sound like my nephew. ‘Megan did it!’"

"Hey, back to bed, you," said Tamahome. This time Jie-Lian stayed. Her face was flushed, and she was more subdued.

Tamahome shook his head. "Go get the doctor, Chueh, her fever’s getting worse."

Chueh nodded and went, leaving the dinner preparations in Nuriko’s capable hands.

"Um, Tamahome?" Riaka didn’t want to make a wrong move here, but if this was just an ordinary sort of childhood fever… "I have some children’s aspirin with me, do you think it would be okay to giver her some? It’ll help take the fever down."

Tamahome sat on the edge of Jie-Lian’s bed, brushing the little girl’s bangs out of her face with gentle fingers. Yu-Lun brought him a basin of cool water and a cloth to bathe Jie-Lian’s forehead with, and he nodded at her in thanks. "Medicine from your world, isn’t it?"

"Yes." Riaka hated swallowing pills, so she had the children’s chewables on hand anyway. She had a thermometer, too, but the numbers wouldn’t mean anything to anyone here, and the local doctor was on the way. Riaka didn’t want to interfere too much, in case it was something serious.

"Please. Go ahead."

Riaka already had the plastic bottle out and was squinting at the label. It was hard to read fine print with her contact lens in. "How old is she?"

"Three."

"Same as my niece." Riaka shook out one of the small, pink-orange tablets, and knelt to give it to Jie-Lian. "Eat this, Little Bit, it’ll help you feel better."

The doctor, an older woman named Lu Mugumi, came soon after, Chueh in tow, and pronounced Jie-Lian to be suffering from a mild flu. Riaka explained as much as she could about the pharmacology of aspirin – not much; she’d bluffed her way through the pharmacology section of her vet tech classes – and showed her the bottle and tablets. The doctor was dubious at first. "Are you the Suzaku No Miko, then?"

"Uh, yes."

"And this is a common drug of your world, considered safe for children?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Watch her carefully, but I feel all should be well in a few days." She then turned to Xong Go-Siu. "And how have you been feeling, young man?"

"Younger than ever, with my delight at seeing you, Lu Mugumi," Xong replied, with a smile.

"Easy to see where Tama-chan got his charm," Nuriko commented to Riaka. The Suzaku No Miko snorted. After she briefly examined Xong – just as a check, while she was there – and declined an invitation to stay to dinner, the doctor bowed to all and sundry, patted the children, and packed up her bag. Turning to the Miko, she bowed again. "Thank you, gracious Lady, for honoring our poor village with your presence!"

"Um, my pleasure, Doctor Lu."

Tamahome paid her and thanked her, then sighed as she left. "Doctor Lu is a very good doctor, but the whole town will know you’re here by tonight."

"Oops." Riaka grimaced. What a drag, to have to sneak around so much!

* *** *

That evening, after dinner, Tamahome checked on a peacefully sleeping Jie-Lian, then went outside to find Chueh showing Riaka his little kitchen garden.

"Looks pretty neat, to me," she was saying. "I don’t see any weeds, even. Unless that’s what those are…oops." Chueh put his hands to his head as he saw that what she was pointing at was a mass of turnip-looking weeds that had engulfed his row of turnips. Riaka laughed and knelt beside the boy to help him clear the bed.

"Sneaky buggers," she said. Aahhh, she thought. What wonderful dirt! Gardening was such marvelous therapy for any kind of stress. Riaka almost never wore gloves; even though it ruined her long nails, she loved to get her hands in the ground, needed to feel what she was doing. Lovely little rootlets, sweet squirming worms. "This is great soil, Chueh. You should see the hardpan I have to dig in at home."

"You have a garden?" the boy asked, interested.

"Yep. I live with my parents so I can have the whole yard to work in. It’s a lot smaller than your fields, but it’s enough for me. If I lived on my own in an apartment, I’d have to make do with putting things in pots, and I always kill potted plants. If I can stick ‘em in the ground, I do just fine." It occurred to her that Chueh probably thought it was normal to live with one’s parents. And grandparents, and aunts and uncles…

When it got too dark to weed without risking pulling up the actual crop, too, Chueh and Riaka gathered the weeds and dumped them in the compost, since they hadn’t even flowered yet, and headed for the pump to wash their hands.

"Niisan," Chueh said in surprise. Tamahome was sitting on an old, overturned bucket, leaning against the side of the house, watching them. He stood, reaching out and hugging his little brother, then sent him toward the door with a pat on the back. "Go on, Chueh, I want to talk to the Miko for a bit." He ignored Chueh’s wink.

Riaka dried her hands on her pants and waited.

"I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I just…" He lifted his hands, palms up, then let them drop.

Riaka raised her eyebrows at him. "Don’t take off on me…us like that. Scared the hell outta me. Damned assassins lurking in the woods, some weird guy jumping in and out of his hat, and you wander off without telling anyone where you’re going!" She grabbed him by the shirt and shook him a little. "Tamahome, never ever leave your wingman!"

"Wingman?" He covered her hands with his own. Riaka couldn’t help but notice how warm they were. But then, hers were cold from the water.

"Yeah, the guy who’s covering your butt in a fight." She let him go and stalked around. "If you have to bail, fine, just warn someone first, okay?"

He watched her pacing, rubbing her arms as if she was cold. She’s terrified. "I’m sorry, Riaka. You’re right; I have a larger duty now, than just my own family." He intercepted her course and put his arms around her. "For all my life, my family is all I’ve really cared about. It’s hard to get used to."

A hard man is good to find, Riaka thought distractedly. Then she remembered. Doh! Dammit! I hate these links! Hate them hate them! I want the privacy of my own brain back! If only she could figure out a sure way of shutting them down temporarily, just when she needed to. She pulled away from him roughly. And touchy-feely people drive me nuts. Always hugging on you, and you never can know what they mean by it, if anything! Well, that’s just it. Usually it means nothing. And I’m not much of a hugger, so I tend to think it does, especially when it doesn’t. Especially when it’s a guy who’s… ARG!!

Tamahome took a deep breath. There it was again. That surge of emotion through the link, so furiously damped he couldn’t get a handle on it. Then anger. He couldn’t tell if the latter was directed at him this time, or herself. It was maddening. You trust me in everything else, why not this? "Riaka?"

"I saw you guys have a tub out back. Is it okay if I take a bath? I feel grungy after being on the road all day."

"Uh, sure. I’ll get you some towels and a candle. You know how to work the pump?" He had forgotten she liked to bathe in the evenings. Now his face felt unaccountably hot. He hurried inside for the towels without waiting for an answer.

Riaka watched him quizzically. I have to go get my stuff in there anyway, I could’ve gotten the towels myself. Whatever. She shrugged, then followed him. As she came in the door, she bumped into him already coming out with towels and her bag of toiletries in one hand, and in the other he held a candle. She took her stuff and the towels from him but left him the candle, and he followed her to the little flagstone-paved area out back. The back wall of the house, and trellises covered in blooming honeysuckle screened them from view.

Riaka set her things down on a section of ruined stone wall that ran next to the pump that filled the "tub" – an old stone horse-trough. Hey, it’s a perfectly clean horse-trough. Someone had cleverly mortared in a tap at the bottom so it could be drained easily. She looked at Tamahome, and the candle.

"Um, could you light that for me and set it on the table over there, please?"

He cocked his head at her for a second, then complied. She had given him her "lighter" earlier so he could relight the cooking fire for Chueh, but she refused to take it back. It was an item from her own world, yet now Tamahome could sense it made her nervous. He knew why, but not what to do about it… "Do you need anyth—" He turned to find she had already removed her shoes and belt and was unbuttoning her tunic; her back was to him, but… "Uhh…uh… Right! Have a nice bath!" He fled.

Riaka disrobed slowly, already immersed in the scent of the honeysuckle, enjoying the soft, warm breeze of the tropical night on her bared skin. Her new skin. She’d noticed before that she had lost her warm-weather tan, except on her face, leaving her fish-belly pale all over, not just her torso, where her bathing suit covered. Now she took the time to feel other changes as well. Everywhere she had been burned deepest the fat had been sloughed away; so her figure was a little odd, though she noticed her body was starting to even things out. She sat on a river-smoothed, stool-sized rock and dumped a bucketful of water over herself, soaking her hair first, the coolness making her shiver and go to goosebumps despite the warmth of the night. After washing and rinsing her hair, she soaped up the rest of her, taking pleasure in the emerging muscle of her legs and arms, her leaner waist. Her stomach wasn’t flat – no abs of steel here – but it never had been. She would always have a womanly body, she knew; no boy-disguise would ever work for her. Not with these hips. She looked down at herself and grinned. Well, I can chuck the razor. The hair removal formula – or talisman, for to Riaka half the assembly of ingredients had seemed magical in nature – Nuriko had given her worked beautifully. She was now bare as any prepubescent child; a condition she’d longed for ever since the novelty of adult hair had worn off and the irritation of having to shave all the time set in. One less thing to worry about anyway! She dumped another bucket of cool water over her head. Hmmmm. Tamahome’s still heading down to the lower fields; his line’s in turmoil, so he won’t notice. His family is asleep I think. Rats, Nuriko is still up; reading that same trashy novel – yay trashy novels! – no doubt. But maybe she wouldn’t sense…maybe wouldn’t know what it meant? Well…don’t assume that! But if she’s absorbed in the book, and she isn’t very good at interpreting the lines… She squirmed experimentally on the smooth stone. It had been so long since she’d had the privacy, leisure and the inclination, and finding Tamahome again had kind of stirred her up… She stood and went to the pump, working the handle until she had a steady stream, filling the "tub"; thinking that someone had had a fine sense of the beauty of simple things and ancient artifacts, juxtaposed. The horse-trough had carvings on it just visible enough to be intriguing without being certain what they were. Riaka climbed in to soak in the lukewarm pump-water. Nearby was a large table made from an ancient, pitted grindstone, where Tamahome had set the candle. The candle, the table, the flowering honeysuckle, the stone tub and the bright stars above…Riaka almost felt she was inside a Loreena McKennitt song. She lay back, resting her head against the rim, opening herself to the sky, moving her fingers with practiced skill, imagining the lords of the constellations coming down to make love with her…

When the cool night breeze started her shivering, she climbed out and dried herself languorously, putting on rose-scented lotion and one of her long , homemade nightgowns. She opened the tap and watched the water flow down a channel to Chueh’s kitchen garden. Then she hopped up on the stone table, looking out over the starlit fields. After a while, she lay back sleepily, her hands clasped behind her head, worshiping the stars wheeling above in the "dark cloak of night"…

She sat up as Tamahome climbed up with her. "They’ve all shifted," she said, waving a hand broadly across an arc of sky. "I can’t find the Hsiu anymore. The season changed on me…"

Tamahome chuckled. Riaka was so like a kid in some ways. Though any child in the village would know the Constellations no matter what time of year it was. How strange her world must be if the stars are so unfamiliar to her. Or are the constellations different in her world? "Here…" He tucked one leg under himself and scooted around behind her, putting his head next to hers so he could point the stars out with a minimum of parallax. Her hair was loose and damp, sweetly smelling of foreign herbs and flowers, mixing with the scents of the flowers on the trellis around them… He pulled his attention back like an unruly horse. "There," he said, pointing with his right hand, lining up with her good eye as best he could. "There’s the line of Hotohori’s tail, and the head." That constellation had been the one she seemed to be able to find the easiest, perhaps because it most nearly resembled whet it was supposed to represent.

"Ah! Okay, there they are." Riaka smiled. Now she could find them in order. "Heh. Hotohori’s tail, eh?" She turned her head to look at him and found his face very close to her own. "I won’t tell anyone you said the Emperor has a tail…" His silver irises glowed uncannily in the moonlight. Oh my.

"The season hasn’t changed," he murmured. "It’s still monsoon. It’s still hot…" A breeze lifted a lock of her hair – fine and thin, like a child’s – and swept it around against his face. He shut his eyes for a moment, the sweetness of the honeysuckle suddenly overwhelming.

"Yes," agreed Riaka weakly. "It is hot." A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his face and neck. She wondered what it would be like to lick it off, then clenched her jaw. She turned away. I’ve got to stop this! She tried to throw her thoughts in a different direction, and at the same time squeeze the link down to almost nothing. Distraction was the only way she could think of to get her emotions to behave around him. He’s distracting, all right! Stoppit! Diversion! Her attention was easily caught by shiny objects…so was his, come to think of it. Which gave her an idea…

"Oh! I brought you some stuff from my world!" She hopped off the table and ran into the house, quickly returning with a bag and a flashlight. "This would’ve been better to show you in the daytime, but I forgot, what with one thing and another."

"Yes," he agreed softly.

"Now, this is quite a mess; I was in a hurry and just threw everything in here. Lessee…" She set her three-cell Mag-lite on the table and rummaged in the bag. Tamahome leaned forward, intrigued despite himself; the old gleam of avarice returning to his eyes. She dumped the bag out onto the table, spilling a score or more beaded necklaces, bracelets and earrings across the stone. Some were simple, some more complex; all she had made herself, she explained to Tamahome. "I didn’t make the beads or the findings, I just put them together. I made all this stuff for myself, so I can dispose of it any way I want. I can make more later, so you can have all of them." Once she had most of it untangled, she turned on the flashlight – "No, you can’t have the flashlight!" – and played it over the array, to give him an idea of the colors.

Tamahome’s mind staggered at the sums he was already calculating. This trove alone would feed and clothe his family for years, and maybe add to the house, if they were careful. And he still had… "Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, snapping his fingers. "I forgot. I have something for you." He pulled a small leather bag out of his tunic, hung from a long cord around his neck. Opening it, he fished out two small things that glittered. "Something to return to you, I mean." He held out a closed fist.

Riaka grinned and obligingly held her hand out, palm up. He opened his fist and the two somethings dropped into her hand. She shone the flashlight’s beam on them; her moonstone earrings.

"I thought…you were going to…sell them," she said, swallowing determinedly. I’m not going to get misty-eyed over this…I’m not!

Tamahome pretended to be offhand. "Weeell, I just never got around to it."

"So, do I still owe you lunch, or not?"

He gave a bark of laughter, quickly covering it with his hand as the sound echoed in the night air. But his shoulders shook, and Riaka clapped a hand to her own mouth, holding her stomach with the other arm. They tried to muffle the sound, but an occasional squeak or snort kept escaping, sending them off again, Riaka kicking her feet in the air, Tamahome pounding the table with a fist. Riaka rolled back, dropping the flashlight, scattering the jewelry, catching some in her hair, then somehow falling off the table altogether. Tamahome stifled his howls behind a forearm, but reached out with the other hand to help her back up. They leaned against each other, laughing helplessly, wiping tears from their eyes, having found a safe outlet at last.

If Nuriko had been awake, she would have told them to shut up and go to bed. But it was only Chueh who watched them for a moment, grinned, then went to his own pallet on the floor next to his father’s bed.

"So," said Tamahome, finally catching his breath. "Are you ready for sparring practice in the morning?"

"Aye-firmative," she agreed happily. He leaned over and blew out the candle, hopping down off the table, then helping Riaka down. She was apt to miss her footing in the dark. Riaka collected the jewelry and her bathing gear, took a last deep sniff of honeysuckle, and they made their way around and into the house.

"Mind if Chueh joins us?"

"Not at all. He’s a good kid." Riaka surprised herself at how much she meant it; she generally didn’t like children. But Tamahome’s siblings were all remarkably good kids. No screaming, or running around making messes, or whining for everything they wanted. They actually helped each other and worked around the house. Without being asked, as often as not. Are they human? But then, their mother was dead, Riaka assumed, and the father was ill. And if Tamahome was gone so often, these kids had to fend for themselves most of the time. Had to grow up fast. "‘Night," she whispered as Tamahome closed and barred the door behind them. She stepped quietly across the floor to where her bedroll was already laid out by the sleeping Nuriko.

"Good night," came his whisper back.

* *** *

Tamahome lay awake on his pallet across the threshold. Thinking about those moments on the stone table, when he and she had been so close, and the odd link-surge had come, at about the same time as his own emotions had threatened to overwhelm him. Her feelings right then, and mine, were…the same. Strange… He was inexperienced, not stupid. It didn’t take a lot of arithmetic to figure out. How did this happen…?

* *** *

That morning Riaka was awake long before she heard Tamahome and Chueh stir, rustling about the two-room cottage. She sat up and yawned, rubbing her face, but wired up inside, ready and anxious for their workout. She got dressed in her gi, under a blanket, braided her hair tightly, and went out to use the facilities, a roll of TP from home in her hand. When she came back around the corner of the house, she found Tamahome and Chueh already outside. Both shirtless, they sat with their legs crossed, meditating side by side. Riaka started her own warm-up while they were thus occupied.

She was to the no-hand sutemis when she noticed them watching her. After weeks of doing her rolls and falls without a nice, cushy mat, she was actually getting quite good at them. She stopped and grinned at them. "Morning."

"Good morning, Miko-sama," Chueh said politely, but his eyes were a bit round from seeing the Miko throw herself.

"Riaka," Tamahome said. He looked her gi up and down approvingly. He saw immediately how the sturdy material was meant to stand up to the kind of grappling her fighting style entailed. The garments’ looseness also served to conceal her figure somewhat; a relief, since Chueh had never worked with a girl before, and Tamahome could see the boy was approaching the age when he might start noticing such things. It took me a lot longer, but….

The three bowed to each other and began.

"Chueh, watch," Tamahome instructed. "Riaka; Sankaku Gatame."

Jeeze, he picked those names up fast! Wish I had a memory like that… "Am I uke or tori?" Without a lapel to grab, she put her right hand on his shoulder instead, and cupped her left under his opposite elbow. The technique would work almost as well this way, it was just a little harder to set up with a less certain hold.

"Tori."

"’Kay," she said, and hopped into Tomoe Nage.

Chueh watched skeptically. Niisan had said the Miko had taught him some new things, but Chueh didn’t quite believe it. No-one had ever beaten Niisan in a fight since Chueh could remember, and Tamahome was a full-fledged Seishi, now. Besides, what could the Temple Maiden from another world know about martial arts?

There, Niisan already had the Miko down on the ground, foiling her awkward move. Huh!?! The Miko had somehow gotten her legs around Niisan’s neck, and was rolling him over, choking him!

Tamahome tapped her leg, and Riaka immediately dove into a roll off him, pulling her legs in fast, because he tended to grab them if she was slow. Tamahome was coughing, but they both got up in defensive stances facing each other. Then he threw her Tomoe Nage and she didn’t counter in time; he followed her over and sat on her chest as she landed, pinning her wrists beside her head. Riaka slid one arm out to the side and bucked him off with the opposite hip, following him over, aiming a pulled punch at his armpit as she clamped his arm between her leg and ribs, sliding into Kata Gatame as fast as she could, choking him again.

This time when they faced each other, he held up a hand to Riaka and turned to Chueh. "So, what does the Miko know about martial arts, eh?"

Chueh had the grace to look abashed. "Don’t let her get her legs around your neck."

Riaka covered her face with her hands, then burst out laughing.

Tamahome was glad his face was already red from the choke. "Uh, well, you’re doing fine, Riaka, you haven’t forgotten anything since last time."

"It wasn’t that long ago for me, remember," Riaka said wryly.

They continued on in a more round-robin fashion, and though Tamahome had Riaka throw Chueh a few times – Riaka was used to picking up large dogs and carrying forty-pound bags of dog food on her head; a slightly underfed ten-year-old was easy to toss and land gently – they mostly stuck to the karate or kung fu style Tamahome was teaching them both.

"Breakfast!" Yu-Lun called out the nearest window. The three finished the kata they were in the middle of, bowed out and made a dash for the pump to wash off before going inside to change and converge on the table.

Nuriko and Riaka saddled and packed the horses while Tamahome said farewell to his family. Riaka rather liked all these horsy chores, simply because she’d never had to do them before. She wasn’t a particular fan of horses, but Bu Xing was such a gentle mare, she felt quite comfortable with her now. It looked like it was going to be a sunny, hot day, so Riaka slung the fox-faced man’s hat around her neck by its ties; she liked having a straw hat to keep the sun off her head and face. She fished in her pack for a moment and pulled out her little, blue sunglasses.

"What were you and Tamahome doing last night?" Nuriko asked slyly.

"Uh, sleeping? What do you mean? When?" Riaka fervently hoped Nuriko would put a lid on her teasing once Tamahome joined them.

"I heard you filling that wretched thing they call a bathtub, and Tamahome was in here getting towels and things. Did he…take a bath too?"

Riaka chuckled. "A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste, eh? You know I prefer to bathe without attendants, thank you."

"Ah, but I bet he was watching…"

Riaka thought about it. "No, I think I felt him go down and around the fields. I’d have known if he was that close, remember."

Nuriko snapped her fingers, disappointed. "Ah well…"

"Hey, Nuriko, Riaka, let’s go!"

Jie-Lian was still snuffling, but her crying for Niichan to stay had quieted. The rest of the children stood in the doorway, already waving, as Tamahome mounted and followed the Willow and the Miko away. The three turned and waved back cheerfully until a bend in the little road hid them from sight.

As they topped the rise that overlooked the village, Riaka stopped briefly to look back at the idyllic vale in the clear morning light. This probably saved her life.

A bolt of energy burned through the air where her head would have been if she’d kept going. Bu Xing reared and threw her; Riaka landed hard but unhurt. Nuriko and Tamahome scattered under a barrage of more bolts, thrown back by some unseen force. A black-cloaked figure leapt from out of the trees, hands raised to cast another energy-ball, aiming directly at Riaka. She backpedaled until she found herself against a tree; she was about to dive around it, when something made her freeze.

"Stop!" said a voice, Riaka wasn’t sure if it was her own or not. Hands extended from either side of her head, palms outward in denial. The arms came further out of the hat slung around her neck, making arcane gestures, gathering chi into a ball, throwing it back at the assassin. The ball struck, hurling him into the trees. Tamahome ran after him, but the black-cloaked man jumped into midair and vanished.

"Damn!" Tamahome snarled.

The hat and arms floated free of Riaka, the arms withdrawing into the darkness. The hat fell to the grass. There was a melodious chiming of metal on metal, and from the hat emerged first a four-ringed staff, then a figure; Riaka saw it was the fox-faced man who’d grabbed her in the forest when the assassins had first struck. His hair was indeed a steely shade of blue… He landed lightly on one foot and took up his hat.

"You’re the guy from the forest," said Riaka.

"The one who told her she’s being targeted?" Tamahome asked, putting himself cautiously between the stranger and Riaka.

The foxish stranger, smiling, just nodded.

"Who are you?" Tamahome asked. "Are…are you human?"

"Don’t be rude, no da," said the stranger. "I’m a wanderer, no da." He put his hat on. "I advised her well, so you should’ve felt the presence of the enemy in the village, no da. Tamahome-kun."

Tamahome glared at him, not least because he was right. And how did this guy know his name?

"Um," said Riaka, stepping out from behind Tamahome. "Thanks for…dealing with that assassin. I thought my cook was goosed for sure."

"It’s a bit soon to say that, no da," the wanderer said over his shoulder as he began to walk down the road. "In fact I have another piece of advice." Riaka took a step after him. "Suzaku No Miko, make your actions responsible ones. Otherwise, people will suffer because of you."

Riaka froze. Some already have! Not just the men killed, but their families…

Nuriko and Tamahome were thinking the same thing.

Then something else occurred to the Oni Seishi. "Shit! Would they…?"

"They wouldn’t," said Nuriko with faltering hope.

Tamahome was already ahorse, face pale, and galloping back to his home.

"Son-of-a-bitch must pay," said Riaka, remounting her mare, urging Bu Xing after him, Nuriko beside her.

"Wait!" cried the wanderer left behind.

As they came around the curving road, they could hear the high screams of children. Tamahome’s forehead was already glowing. Through the open door as they came closer they could see his father, brothers and sisters suspended in some kind of web, struggling futilely, being pulled slowly apart.

"Riaka! Stay back!" Tamahome shouted as he and Nuriko charged the house. Riaka obeyed for once, reining in, but looking around nervously for more assassins.

Sticky white bands leapt out to enwrap the two Seishi – more prizes in the spider’s web.

Oh shit! Riaka backed Bu Xing further. Where’s whatsisbucket when you need ‘im?!

The black-cloaked assassin emerged with a sword, standing in the doorway, and beckoned to Riaka. "Suzaku No Miko, if you do not wish to see these killed, you will come here and be killed by me."

"Run!" Tamahome yelled, before his air was abruptly cut off.

Riaka slid weakly out of Bu Xing’s saddle.

"Noooo!" wailed Nuriko.

Numbly, Riaka drew her leaf-bladed dagger, holding it so the blade was hidden behind her arm. She faced the assassin and began to walk. I’m sorry, Ray, but I’m frightened beyond the capacity for coherent thought. As she got closer, her eyes got very wide. The village had become unnaturally still; everyone with any sense was hiding in their houses. And what could even the village headman or whatever do against a magic-using assassin? What can I do? It didn’t matter, she had to do something. She could feel Tamahome losing consciousness. In three or four minutes without air, he would die. Nuriko was pitting her tremendous strength against the webbing, but it simply recoiled; squeezing tighter the more she fought, until the bands cut into flesh. The children were screaming. Xong, held above his bed, was gasping weakly, almost as cyanotic as Tamahome. The links were red-hot wire shot into her heart and mind. "Never," she said, stopping a couple of horse-lengths away. "Negotiate." She brought her knife up and dropped into a defensive stance. "With terrorists! Come ‘n get me, you bottom-dwelling, mud-sucking, jawless invertebrate!!" She hoped he couldn’t concentrate fully on more than one thing at a time.

The assassin raised his sword, prepared to lunge at her—

Riaka shifted her weight, prepared to run like a madwoman—

A staff interposed, chimes ringing.

The fox-faced wanderer appeared between Riaka and the assassin. He held two fingers up to his lips and gave a sort of kiai; the bonds holding Nuriko, Tamahome and the others slithered into nothingness. The children flocked to their father, while the assassin threw a flurry of darts at the wanderer, but the staff whirled musically into motion, parrying -- one dart sliced open the fox-faced man’s trousers at the right knee, revealing a glowing red character.

The Well! Nuriko saw.

Tamahome struggled to his feet, Oni symbol shining.

Swearing, the assassin turned to flee, but Nuriko, ignoring her wounds, caught him and twisted his arm up behind his back, putting a knee on his shoulderblade. She could rip the arm from the socket easily; best be careful not to do it too soon… "Noooow, what can you tell us?" the Willow said, twisting the arm just a little more. "How many assassins are in Hongnan after Riaka? TELL ME!!"

"WATCH OUT!" Tamahome and the wanderer shouted together.

Arrows hissed through the open doorway; Tamahome and the wanderer shielded Riaka; Nuriko ducked, getting an arrow through one sleeve but otherwise remaining untouched. The assassin died with only another curse crossing his lips.

"Well done, Tamahome, no da," said the wanderer, grinning his peculiar grin. "You felt it this time, no da."

Tamahome nodded acknowledgement and coughed uncomfortably; that shout hadn’t done his abused throat any good. He looked at Riaka to make sure she was okay then rushed to comfort his family.

"How come no-one tried to save me!?!" Nuriko yelled, brandishing the arrow from her sleeve until it shattered in her furious grip.

"You’re the guarder, not the guardee," Riaka said, smiling despite her fright. "Nuriko, you’re messed up, let me look at those cuts."

The wanderer disposed of the assassin’s body with a few muttered words and a flash from his staff while Riaka tended Nuriko’s wounds. If Nuriko was like Tamahome, though, she’d be healed in a couple of days. Riaka shrugged mentally. A little triple-antibiotic and soft bandages wouldn’t hurt, and might speed the process anyway. Afterwards, the Miko insisted on checking the others over as well.

"Huh," she said, examining Jie-Lian’s wrists. "The kids are more or less unmarked physically." Mr. Xong doesn’t look good, though. Riaka sat on the bed and took his pulse, not liking the sound of his breathing. Wish I’d brought a stethoscope. Not that I’m any expert at auscultation, but… She leaned over and put her ear to his chest. After a moment she sat up, wide-eyed. "Yikes! That’s some heart murmur!" At Tamahome’s look, she blushed and clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oops! I’m sorry!" Open foot, insert mouth!

"It’s all right, Miko-sama," Xong said, patting her hand. "I’ve had it for a long time. It’s just getting worse as I get older. I’ll be fine. Chueh, lad, fetch my tea, would you?"

"Of course, Pops." Chueh wiped his face fiercely and ran to a cupboard to get the required medicinal, bustling determinedly about the kitchen corner.

"Should we call Dr. Lu again?"

"No, no; I’ll be fine, Miko-sama, I’m not that frail yet."

"Tamahome?" Riaka thought he’d be okay, but the fact he hadn’t spoken since the warning shout made her nervous. The Oni Seishi waved her off, though, holding his three youngest siblings close. Bruises were spreading around his neck, but his color seemed okay. And what could I do if his larynx or tracheal rings were damaged anyway? I should’ve stopped by work for antibiotics and fluids…um; do I know any dosages for humans? No. I’m just looking for something to do so I don’t have to think about what just happened…it’s either play Nurse Chapel or sit in a corner and gibber. She turned to the wanderer.

"What a surprise," Nuriko was saying to him. "You turned out to be a Suzaku Seishi!"

The wanderer chuckled. "I’m Chichiri, no da," he said. "I’m not a fox…"

"I wondered," said Riaka. "Um, pardon me, but your, uh, face is peeling." Apparently more than one of the assassin’s darts had escaped his parrying, for a flap of skin hung loose from Chichiri’s left cheek. He tugged at it in mild surprise, then grinned broadly.

"Oh, it’s fine," he said, pulling his face off. "I have a spare." Underneath was another, identical visage. Nuriko fell off the bench she’d been sitting on. Riaka blinked and shook her head. She’d seen that trick often enough in the movies; this time she inexplicably thought of Ilya Kuriakin’s many disguises… Well, that’s the "mask" clue for Chichiri all right. I’m guessing the outfit and that neat staff have some kind of monkish connotation? Doesn’t matter, he has the mark, and power, and… She sat down next to Nuriko, who’d recovered her composure somewhat, and closed her eyes, turning her attention inward. There, in the space of what she now pictured as islands and bridges, she could see the new one solidifying. She realized, or perhaps it was suggested to her somehow, that this link had been there, but quiescent, for some time.

"We’ve found the fourth one," said Nuriko, giving Riaka a gentle squeeze around the shoulders. But the Willow looked a little askance at Chichiri and his "spare" face and leaned in to comment sotto voce to Riaka, "This guy’s weird."

"At least I’m not a gay boy," Chichiri replied, unruffled.

Nuriko stiffened and glared at him.

Riaka ignored them. "Three to go," she said. "If we can all keep alive long enough…" She noticed her hands were shaking and clasped them together. She stood and turned back to Tamahome and his family.

"It’s all right now," he was saying, his voice hoarse and weak, but not broken. "The magician says he doesn’t feel any indication of the enemy."

"It’s me they’re after," Riaka said, leaning on the corner of Xong’s bed niche. But is it like with Frodo, the danger to them passes when I’m gone? Or not…? She gritted her teeth. Better talk about this once the kids are in bed. It definitely looked like they were staying at least one more night here in any case.

* *** *

The rest of the afternoon was spent reassuring the children, having lunch and explaining to all the neighbors what had happened.

After dinner, the Seishi and their Miko held council.

"All four Miko have been called?" Tamahome asked incredulously, his voice cracking like an adolescent’s on the last word. Riaka tugged his mug out of his hand, put more honey in the tea and gave it back to him.

Chichiri nodded. "And the Western Seven are nearly complete, no da."

"This is going to be a terrible war," Nuriko said glumly.

Riaka looked at her sharply. "Are you so sure that’s what the danger is?" Hotohori had been the same way. "What if our job is to stop a war, not fight one? Or something else entirely; a meteor on collision course or who knows what."

"I wish you hadn’t suggested that, no da," Chichiri replied ruefully. Nuriko’s and Tamahome’s eyes were very wide.

"Sorry. It was the first appropriately cosmic disaster I could think of. In my time it’s kind of a popular topic; we’ve had a couple of recent near misses; scared the heck outta all the astronomers."

"I can imagine, no da. But I suspect our problem is more earthly in origin, no da."

"The invading Kurgans," Nuriko said. "That still means war, Riaka."

"All right, but not between the Four Lands. Hotohori and I already talked about this. We may have to unify the Lands and the Gods somehow. Luri and I can team up readily enough, if yall cooperate, but…"

"You know the Seiryuu No Miko?" Chichiri asked, surprised in his turn for once.

"Yeah, we originally came to this world together. Been friends for years in our world. Don’t know the other two girls, though, so that won’t be as easy." Riaka swirled the spoon in the honey jar, making spirals. "I need to meet with Luri. She’s better with people than I am. I do dogs and cats, not humans."

"You want to sneak into Qu-Dong?" Tamahome asked her. "Like she snuck into Hongnan with that big, straw-haired ape of a Seishi of hers?"

Reowr! "Maybe. Ching Dai said he thought he could get a message through to her. I wrote one only she would understand. Haven’t heard back yet."

"If you ever do," Nuriko pointed out. "The messenger may have been intercepted, or the message itself. It does no good for only your friend to be able to read it if she never even gets it."

Riaka left the spoon in the jar and rubbed her face with her hands.. "Yeah. Have to hope for the best, I guess. Or send another message."

"We still have three more Seishi to find," Tamahome said.

Riaka nodded. "Right." She hesitated over her next thought, sure it wouldn’t go over well at all. "But before we get back to that…Tamahome….we have to, um, get your family out of here." She held up a hand before he could interrupt. "I’m not kidding. The bad guys know where you live, now. Are you so certain they won’t be back? I’m sure we can get Hotohori to put them up in a house in the city, or in the Palace itself." And you know where you can stick your pride. She met his eyes defiantly, knowing this was the arena where she could get into real trouble with him. She had enough friends who got rabidly clannish at times that she recognized the warning signs.

Tamahome regarded her stiffly, his lips compressed into a flat line. Nuriko watched them avidly. Chichiri appeared to be studying the grain of the table, though it was hard to tell with his strange eyes.

"This is our home," Tamahome said very quietly. "Pops won’t like it. And it would be hard on the kids to uproot them…"

"Oh, and it was easy on them being strung up like that this morning? And watching you dying slowly of asphyxiation with your face swelling up and turning blue? I’m sure that was lots of fun." She took a big swig of her sweetened tea, blinking hard, willing her stomach and hands to stop shaking. Don’t lose it now, you can freak out later…much later!

Tamahome pressed his hands flat on the table. His instinct was to leap across the table and gather her into his arms; to protect…protect the Miko. That’s what he was for! Her fear drove him like whips.

Nuriko and Chichiri were tense, also focused on the Miko.

Knock it off, you guys, Riaka thought; their sympathy right now was the last thing she needed. "We can rig a horse-litter for your dad, or buy a wagon or something. I don’t know what you want done with the fields. I know it’d be a lot of work later if you just let them go, do you have any neighbors who might tend them for you?"

"Wang Chi," Tamahome said, after some thought. "And his brothers. I can always come back and beat them up if they try to annex our land." Wang Chi was the closest thing to a boyhood friend Tamahome had. Most of his age-mates were more interested in teasing him…or were afraid of him. But that didn’t matter now. "I’ll talk to Pops." He took a sip of his tea and grimaced. Riaka had put too much honey in. "I think we can all leave in the morning." Packing wouldn’t take long; they didn’t have much, possession-wise. They could probably even get it done tonight. Chueh was going to love this, really; he’d see it as a grand adventure.

* *** *

"Riaka," whispered Nuriko in the darkness. Their bedrolls were closer together than usual, and the Willow reached over to hug the Miko, accepting no protests. But the Miko didn’t protest; she hugged the Seishi back and burst into silent tears. Nuriko petted her hair and let some of her own tears fall. "That was a stupid thing to do, coming back at the assassin like that," she said softly. "You scared us half to death – even I could feel that through the links; Hotohori-sama was so worried!"

"I know, I’m sorry," Riaka sniffled against Nuriko’s shoulder. "I’ve been trying to send him reassurance; he was fairly alarmed." I hope he wasn’t in the middle of a court session or anything awkward. "Nuriko, I really think that initiation as Suzaku No Miko changed me somehow. I never would have confronted that guy like that before; believe me, I would have run away." She thought about it for a moment. "The problem was, I could feel him hurting you, and…and killing Tamahome. The Seishi are to protect the Miko, but I think there’s as strong a compulsion on the Miko to not let her Seishi be killed. Doing nothing was not an option."

"It was still stupid," Nuriko murmured.

"Yeah," Riaka sighed. "I expect I’ll get the same lecture from Tamahome in the morning."

You could get a lot more than that from him if you tried, Nuriko thought, but for once didn’t say. "Thank goodness for Chichiri. Even if he is weird."

"Hey, I rather like him. I can deal with weird. I’m weird. You’re weird."

"You’re definitely weird. I’m not weird, I’m beautiful."

"You sound like Hotohori…"

They muffled giggles in their blankets. At a flush of irritation through the links from Tamahome, they settled down and snuggled in together for mutual comfort. Nuriko doesn’t feel like a man, it occurred to Riaka. All right, how many men have I snuggled with? One? Two, if you count Tamahome in the dungeon…which wasn’t exactly snuggling. But still. Well, she…he…is shorter than I am, and smaller; more delicately built, er, so to speak. Much stronger, but then, Nuriko is stronger than everyone… Distracting herself with thoughts of chromosomes and hormonal influences, freemartins and Kleinfelter’s Syndrome, Riaka fell asleep, safe with her Seishi.

* *** *

Tamahome woke with a gasp, his heart hammering. He put a hand to his throat, lying still until his breathing steadied, assuring himself he could still breathe. There was a rustling from the other room. He turned over to see Riaka sitting up, looking back at him.

"You okay?" she whispered. Worry came clearly through the link, and her fear, chronic and throbbing like a sore tooth. He hated to leave his place at the threshold, but Chichiri was on watch in a tree outside. Tamahome wondered if the strange monk even needed sleep. The Oni Seishi padded over and sat next to the Miko. Nuriko was asleep, but not peacefully so.

Riaka and Tamahome leaned together like they had in the Imperial dungeon. He was gratified to sense that her fear ebbed when he was close like this. If only I could stay this close to you…

"How’s your throat?" she asked.

He shrugged; by morning the bruises would begin to fade. "Nightmare?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Same here," he said.

"How’re the kids doing?" Earlier, all four children had awakened crying; even Chueh, though he tried to hide it. They were all asleep for now.

"I don’t know," Tamahome whispered. "I think they’ll be all right eventually. Kids are resilient, and they have the move to look forward to, now." He hoped they wouldn’t get too used to living in the Palace… He sighed, inadvertently breathing in the scent of her hair. "Riaka…"

"Wait," she whispered, interrupting. "I’ll make you a deal. You skip the lecture on how dumb I acted this morning, and I’ll skip the lecture on you rushing in to get captured, okay?"

Tamahome ducked his head. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it was a valid topic. "Agreed," he murmured. "Chichiri’s right, we all need to be more careful."

"Heh. I like Chichiri." Riaka closed her eyes, casting outward. "Whoa! His line’s powerful!" Tamahome shifted uncomfortably. Riaka poked him in the ribs. "Quit squirming. Next you’ll be walkin’ sideways… Shh, I have an idea." Eyes still closed, she sent out – she hoped – a pulse of happy-to-see-you-feeling through the link to Chichiri. One ping and one ping only, please… To her delight, Chichiri bounced it right back at her, magnified and far more refined. "It worked!" she said.

"What did you do?" Tamahome asked.

"Be quiet and I’ll show you." She put a hand on his chest to still him, and sent him the "ping".

Tamahome blinked and sat up straighter. "What was that?"

"Well, we don’t get words or actual thoughts through the links, right? So that was kind of an emotional ‘heigh-ho’ sort of greeting. Chichiri gave it back much better than I sent."

"Oh." He pressed her hand against his heart, closed his eyes and tried to send her the "greeting". But his emotions at the moment were a little muddled and didn’t translate well.

"Eh?" Riaka murmured. "Try it again. It’s like this…" Ping.

Tamahome lobbed it back more cleanly this time. The lines were a mode of communication, he realized; they ought to learn to use them as effectively as they could. It might be important later. He opened his mouth to say so, but the Miko was distracted.

"Nuriko’s having a bad dream," Riaka said.

"Should we wake him?"

"No, if she gets through it without waking, she probably won’t remember it."

"Ah, right."

They both watched the Willow’s eyes move erratically, listening to her shallow breathing. "His line is strange…" Tamahome whispered.

"Mmhmm. Probably that’s the dreaming. And we can tell it’s not a nice dream. She’s upset, scared."

"Angry," Tamahome added. Riaka nodded.

"Hope she doesn’t come up swinging," she said. Tamahome’s eyes widened at the thought. He wrapped his arms around Riaka, ready to leap them both to safety if necessary. They watched and waited.

After what Riaka guessed was about ten minutes, Nuriko’s eyes stilled, and she passed into a deeper phase of sleep with only a slight whimper. Riaka and Tamahome sighed and relaxed, surprised at how tense they’d become.

Riaka yawned, the excitement suddenly over. "We’re not sparring tomorrow morning, are we?"

"Not with getting the kids and Pops moved. In the evening maybe."

"Oh, fine." She lay down, rearranging her pillow. "’Night again."

"’Night," he whispered. He rose and silently returned to his own bedroll, though he would rather have stayed where he was. Now there was a cold spot along his side where she had been…

* *** *

"Whose idea was it to travel with kids?"

"Yours, Riaka," Nuriko answered dryly.

"Oh, yeah."

"Be nice," Nuriko admonished. "Those are Tama-chan’s darling little sisters and brothers; you have to make a good impression on his family."

"Shut up, Nuriko."

"You wouldn’t want to give him the idea you don’t like children…"

"Shut up, Nuriko."

"And they say it’s different when the children are your own…"

"Shut UP, Nuriko!!" Riaka sidestepped to the road’s verge and hefted a good-sized rock, as if gauging the angle to throw it at the Willow.

"Mercy! Mercy!" Nuriko yelled, waving her sleeves in mock alarm.

"Hey!" Tamahome called from the end of their little caravan. "What are you two fighting about now?"

"Noooothing!" the two shouted back.

Chichiri, walking up ahead on point, grinned.

They had been on the road back to Eiyo for four days, with another three or four to go at the pace they could keep, depending on storms. With gold from Hotohori, Tamahome had bought – as cheaply as he could haggle – a wagon and a team of two horses to pull it. In this was his father, nested securely on the bundles of the family’s belongings; and Chueh drove. Riaka and Nuriko led their horses, also laden, with Chun-Jing and Yu-Lun riding atop the packs. Tamahome rode his horse, with Jie-Lian wrapped in a blanket on his lap. The neighbors had seemed rather glad to see them go; Tamahome couldn’t really blame them, but it still made him angry.

Riaka had to admit, to herself anyway, these kids weren’t so bad. They had been through a rather traumatic experience and were maybe a little subdued at times, but even the barrage of questions she got from Yu-Lun was more amusing than not.

"Why is your hair that color?"

"Why do you and Niichan fight every morning?"

"What’s that thing you keep sticking in your eye?"

"What’s wrong with your eyes?"

"Do you have any brothers and sisters at home?"

"How did you get to be the Miko?"

"It was an accident," was how Riaka answered that one.

"You’re awfully clumsy, aren’t you."

"Yu-Lun!" Tamahome chided her, aghast. But Riaka and Nuriko were howling and wiping their eyes. "Out of the mouths of babes," Riaka laughed.

Nights they set up a camp near water and assigned watches. Riaka and Nuriko vied for firstwatch, both being night-owls. But Riaka had less trouble getting to sleep again, once awakened, so she usually took second after all.

So far, there had been no more arrows or black cloaks from the trees.

* *** *

It was the end of Chichiri’s watch; he’d wake Tamahome soon for the last shift before dawn. He glanced at this companions; Tamahome was usually awake by now.

Da? How curious. Tamahome and Riaka were both dreaming, curled up together. Chichiri hadn’t gotten around to asking why Tamahome always slept between Riaka and the fire – when they had a fire, it was still warm enough often to do without – though he could maybe hazard a guess. In any case, the lines from both had the strange flavor of dreams, and were… Chichiri focused his attention… Their lines are…winding together…how are they doing that? Were they dreaming the same dream, then? But that shouldn’t be possible, should it? That wasn’t what the links were for… He thought about it more deeply. No, it’s not what the links are for, but, given those two, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He wondered how long this had been going on, and what they were dreaming about. As the intensity of their dream increased, however, he found out more than he wanted to know.

* *** *

Riaka was having another necking-in-the-backseat dream. She liked those, they were amazingly, vividly tactile. Instead of Miles Vorkosigan in a flyer, though, this time she was – predictably – with Tamahome. But the vehicle kept changing from some kind of car, to the back of a grain wagon or something, or maybe both at once, she wasn’t really paying attention. Likewise she couldn’t tell if it was Luri driving or Nuriko. Or neither. And this dream was unwinding far beyond any she’d had before.

She had her arms around his shoulders, running her hands through his hair, which was thick and satiny smooth rather than soft, stroking his ears and neck lightly with her fingertips. Her lips rested against his forehead. But unlike her usual, rather passive dream-lovers, this Tamahome was taking his own initiative, with his own intensity. She could feel his mouth on her throat, moving over her collarbones, biting gently on her shoulders. His hands roved over her body, pulling urgently at her clothes. There didn’t seem to be any fastenings on either of their clothing. She could get his shirt down around his ribs, but not altogether off, and he was having even more trouble with the weird things she was half-wearing. The frustration drove them to greater frenzy. He tried to push her down into the upholstered seat, or grain-filled bags, but the dimensions of the vehicle kept changing; always awkwardly wrong. She tried to wrap her legs around him but there was a window in the way, and her knee got pinned against a rough-hewn board. Finally their mouths met, devouring hungrily. One pair of hands clasped, fingers interlaced, knuckles and the beds of their nails white. They pushed against the walls to press themselves together. With his free hand he managed to get her shirtlike garment rumpled up to her neck, gasping at his body’s reaction as her small, pink nipples popped into view. He bent over her – or was she above him? – lapping at the little buds, taking one into his mouth and sucking hard. She writhed, cried out, arched toward him, opening up to draw him in…and woke up.

The transition from dream to waking was abrupt and disorienting; breath and heart rates didn’t match, neither did anything else. Much. It took Riaka several minutes to sort herself out. Certain parts of her real body had responded to her dream-state to an unusual degree. What was embarrassing was that she discovered she had rolled off her bedroll and onto Tamahome’s, with whom she was now intertwined. As far as she could tell, he was still asleep, though as she very carefully extricated herself she found his physical condition was similar to her own. Oh. I get it. That's probably what started me dreaming that way in the first place. And their light blankets had gotten twisted together around them, explaining other elements of the dream.

Riaka finally got herself resettled back where she belonged, on her own bedroll. Tamahome didn’t stir. Riaka stifled a groan. Arg! How am I supposed to get over this silly crush if I keep having dreams like this?!? The temptation to…touch him had been achingly strong. But she’d been resisting urges like that for decades, and the memory of such a dream would keep her warm for almost as long. Besides, what if he woke up? She sighed and rolled onto her opposite side, going over the dream a few times to make sure it got put in long-term storage. Despite wanting to go over it a few times more, she soon fell asleep.

In the darkness, Tamahome’s long eyes glittered for a moment, then the thin rings of silver framing depthless pupils were shuttered.

Up in his tree, Chichiri sighed and lowered his shielding. How could Nuriko sleep unaware through that? He hopped lightly down to earth, walked over and nudged Tamahome with the butt of his staff. "Your watch, no da."

* *** *

There was such a stir as they had entered the city gate, it reminded Riaka of her position in this world. Not a very comfortable position at the moment… And what position would you prefer? Oh, let’s not go there, there are children present!

"Smile, Riaka," Nuriko directed her. "Nod, don’t wave."

"Okay, I’m not used to being in parades, you know."

"Well, you’re not just in a parade; you’re the Suzaku No Miko – the center of hope for the whole country."

"Gee, thanks, Nuriko. I feel a lot less self-conscious now."

"You ought to be self-conscious, with hair that color."

The kids were having a grand time, as the Imperial Guard turned out to escort them to the Palace. Jie-Lian was even granted a ride on her Niichan’s shoulders; her flu seemed to be over for such an occasion. A litter was brought to accommodate Xong as they came to the Palace steps. Tamahome stayed with his family; chamberlains came to help them get settled right away; no doubt runners had warned the Palace of their approach well ahead of time. Riaka was so glad to be home she let a groom take Bu Xing without a backward glance, didn’t notice that Nuriko and Chichiri followed suit, and ran up the entire set of flights; skipping down the familiar maze of halls to the throne room, where she strode through the open doors with a "We’re baa-aack!!"

Riaka decided interrupting court like this was great fun.

Hotohori, abandoning Imperial decorum for a moment, ran gracefully down the steps of his dais to embrace her. "Oneesan," he murmured. "Thank the heavens you are safe!"

"Oh my god, that must have sucked!" Riaka said, returning his hug with an extra squeeze. "You sitting here all alone with only what you got through the links! Are you okay?"

The Emperor nodded, but his golden eyes were suspiciously bright.

"We’re all okay, Hotohori; it all turned out, and we even found another Seishi; Chichiri."

Hotohori looked over her shoulder, smiling and nodding at Nuriko, who blushed. Riaka turned in time to see this and grinned at her.

"Chichiri," said the Miko, "this is Hotohori; the second Seishi I uh, found. I keep running into you guys by accident…"

"Welcome, Chichiri," said the Emperor.

"Daaa!" said the monk-wanderer, a bit flustered.

"Come, tell me all about it," Hotohori said, one arm still around Riaka’s shoulders, beckoning Chichiri and Nuriko along to his private study while Ching Dai gestured for the Resondeur to ring the gong signaling the end of today’s court session.

By the time they finished their tale – and the lunch that was brought to them – Tamahome found them. He bowed very low to the Emperor.

"Thank you with utmost respect, Hotohori-sama, for giving shelter to my humble family."

Hotohori nodded in return. "I should apologize to you for allowing the assassins to gain access to my subjects; it is my sworn duty to protect them. I have so far failed in that duty. We have moved Nuriko’s family within the Walls also; it seems safest." Chichiri had declined the offer, stating he no longer had any family; they had all died in the terrible floods ten years before.

Riaka, sitting on Hotohori’s desk, drew her knees up under her chin. "Actually, the ultimate responsibility for protecting the Land is mine, isn’t it. Or all of ours, together." Landlaw… She stared at the painted screen on the opposite wall. "I shouldn’t have gone back to my world. That was stupid. Three months wasted because we didn’t know about the time difference."

"How could you know?" Hotohori said. "It did not occur to me to ask Tai Yi-Jun about it, either, and I have read the records." He shook his head. "The time difference is not mentioned. I am not sure the most recent Miko ever went back and forth like that."

"Oh, great, I had to be the wishy-washy one."

"You were sick," said Tamahome.

"By the time we got to the mountain, I was fine," Riaka answered. "We could have avoided that whole test thing…"

"I think some testing was unavoidable," Hotohori pointed out.

"It could have been much worse, no da," Chichiri added.

Riaka made a face. "Worse than that…euuuh…okay, nevermind. So, the three we have left to find are Chiriko, Mitsukake and Tasuki."

"Child/Wisdom, Doctor/Heal and Fire/Mountain," Hotohori read from the scroll itself, open on his desk. Tamahome went over to the map table and studied the map for a moment.

"If we go west; a direction we haven’t been yet," he began.

"You’re reaching, Tamahome," Riaka put in.

He grinned at her. "Yes, but if you think about it, you keep finding the Seishi by accident. Why not go with a random direction, or a gut feeling? The closest mountain to the west of here is Mount Lige-san, a dormant volcano."

"Okay," said Riaka, smiling at his choice of words. "Makes as much sense as anything else." She hopped down from the desk and joined him at the map. "Where is it? Mm, the print’s too small for me to read without taking out my eye."

Tamahome straightened abruptly, giving her an odd look.

"She means the little lens in her eye," Nuriko explained.

"Oh, that’s right." He leaned over again and pointed the mountain out.

"Isn’t Mount Lige-san overrun with bandits?" Nuriko asked Hotohori.

Hotohori, watching Riaka and Tamahome, shoulder to shoulder at the map, discussing routes to the mountain, and ways into and out of Qu-Dong, took a moment to answer. "Ah, yes, I believe so. But how would ordinary bandits fare against the Seishi?"

Nuriko had to chuckle at that. "Will you be able to come with us this time?"

Hotohori looked down at his folded hands. "I wish to, but…"

"The country is more or less safe for now, no da," said Chichiri. "I could become Hotohori for a while."

"What?" Hotohori’s eyes widened.

There was a puff of green smoke, an odd ringing through the air. When the smoke cleared, Chichiri had transformed to a replica of the Emperor, down to the embroidery on his hem. "Just alike, no da!" Even the voice matched, though the speech pattern was still obviously Chichiri’s.

"Oh wow, is that an illusion or are you a shapechanger?" Riaka asked, fascinated. Any magic, sufficiently advanced, is indistinguishable from technology, she thought to herself. Probably an illusion or something like; if he was a shapechanger he wouldn’t need the smoke.

Tamahome simply stared.

"Chichiri," Hotohori said, amazed. "You would do this, for me?"

"Yes." Chichiri-as-Hotohori nodded, smiling.

"I…I… I am far more beautiful than that!" Hotohori exclaimed. "I have longer slits at the outer corners of my eyes." He came around the desk to look over his replica more closely. "My nose ridge is sharper."

Chichiri watched him, mouth agape. "I can’t improve it any more, no da," he protested.

Hotohori circled around behind him, then stood face-to-face. "My skin is more like fine porcelain." The corners of the Emperor’s mouth twitched, and his eyes sparked with amusement. "Change yourself over again!" But he couldn’t keep his face straight any longer and burst out laughing, both at himself and at his companions’ expressions. He embraced his double lightly, then stood back, still honestly amazed at the resemblance. "Thank you, Chichiri."

"Ching Dai is in for an interesting time," Nuriko commented.

Hotohori laughed again. "We shall warn him," he said. "But perhaps not just yet, hm?"

"Someone’s in a good mood," Riaka said aside to Tamahome.

"He doesn’t get let out of his cage very often," the Oni Seishi replied quietly.

Good memory, Riaka thought. Quick study. Still hasn’t learned to knock first… "Are we leaving tomorrow morning, then?" she asked the room at large.

"Might as well," said Nuriko, who was still looking back and forth at the two Hotohoris.

"We don’t have to go at dawn, though, right?" Riaka asked hopefully.

Hotohori smiled at her. "Not if you do not want to."

"Hot dog." Riaka craned her neck to gauge the light coming in through the clerestory windows. "It’s only a little past lunch; I’m going for a swim, then I’ll repack. Anyone coming? Do your sibs swim, Tamahome?"

"Ahh, all but Jie-Lian, and she’s learning."

"Nuriko? Hotohori? Chichiri?"

"No thanks," said Nuriko, who didn’t want to get her hair wet. "I’ll come watch you children, though."

Hotohori shook his head regretfully. He was an excellent swimmer, though he rarely had time to indulge in it. "If we are to leave tomorrow, there is much I must discuss with Chichiri."

"Da," said Chichiri in agreement, poofing back for now into his own appearance.

"All rightee, then," Riaka said, and waved as she preceded Tamahome and Nuriko out the door.