The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and
possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.
------------------------------------------------
Hearts of Ice
Part 23: Dragon
by Krista Perry
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Akane stood before the cave of the Ancient One, carefully
cradling Ranma's limp form to her chest. As she stared into the
darkness of the gaping hole, she was acutely aware of the feel of
Ranma's body in her arms. If she didn't think about it, she
could almost pretend he was only asleep... or even unconscious.
But his clothes were sticky with drying blood. His skin was
the color of cold ash.
And his ghost was standing next to her.
She couldn't think about it. She couldn't think about it,
because if she did, she would scream or cry or laugh or sob and
never stop. So she didn't think. She just had to act, and get
the problem solved. She had to fix this. She had to find a way
to repair this... problem... that threatened to separate her from
Ranma forever, just when she had finally found him again.
He wasn't looking at her. He hadn't looked directly at her,
ever since she had picked up his body from off the stony,
bloodstained ground. And he didn't look at her as he stepped
forward -- seemingly unaware of how his feet never quite managed
to touch the ground -- and cleared his throat to address the
great Chinese dragon, who was their last hope.
"Hey, Ancient One!" Ranma yelled. "Get your scaly dragon
butt out here, I wanna talk to you!"
Akane gasped, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes.
"Ranma!" she squeaked in panic. "What do you think you're
doing?!" She glanced anxiously into the unyielding darkness of
the cave, half expecting a huge dragon's head to emerge, mouth
open to swallow them whole... but nothing happened. She lowered
her voice to an intense whisper. "Are you trying to make him
angry?"
"Of course not," Ranma replied irritably, still not looking
at her. "I'm just trying to get his attention, that's all."
Akane groaned. "Idiot, that's not the way to convince him
to help us!"
"Well, what do *you* think we should do?" he snapped,
finally turning to face her. His eyes strayed to the body she
carried, and she could see his face cloud with a dark, painful
emotion that made her own heart ache in response.
Ranma suppressed a wince as he saw the anguish in Akane's
expression. He was trying so hard to pretend that it didn't
bother him, seeing her hold his dead body in her arms. But...
when he did... it brought the reality of his situation into
painful focus. As each moment passed, each second spent
surrounded by a terrifying feeling of nothingness, of absence
that had invaded nearly all of his senses... he found he was
starting to feel less like a person, and more like a mere
apparition. A lost spirit, increasingly disconnected from the
physical world... from everything that he longed for.
"Look, Akane," he said, lowering his eyes again. "This so-
called all-powerful dragon didn't do a thing to help me when I
was bleeding to death right outside his cave. It *had* to know I
was there, since I'm the only one it even allowed on this stupid
mountain. It obviously doesn't give a damn about mere humans."
His voice was full of bitterness. "And you think I'm gonna be
polite to him now?"
Akane didn't answer him for a long moment. Finally, he
looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her head was bowed,
and he couldn't tell if her eyes were closed, or if she was
simply looking down at his dead face...
"If it means getting you back," she whispered at last, "I
would grovel like a worm."
And Ranma immediately felt like the worst kind of worm
himself. "Aw man, Akane..." he said, his tone softening. "I'm
not saying I wouldn't do that too. Hell, if I thought groveling
before this dragon would get us what we want, I'd do it in a
second." He shook his head. "But think about it. This dragon
only grants requests to the *strong.* It only respects people
who can survive all those demons down there, and still make it up
here alive." Ranma clenched his fists and looked at the ground
so that Akane wouldn't see the helpless, infuriated look on his
face. "Well, I didn't make it. But I'm sure as hell gonna make
sure that this dragon knows just who he's dealing with anyway."
He looked up at her, expecting her to be angry; expecting
her to yell at him for being a macho idiot...
But she didn't. In fact, he thought he saw her almost
smile, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"You... have a point," she said slowly, remembering a few
entities she had run into in the Kami Plane, who had similar
attitudes. "So... do you have a plan then?"
Ranma blinked. A plan? "Uh, well," he said, hesitantly.
"The original plan was to just come and fight him until he agreed
to break the blood spell, since I don't got any magic binding
scroll like Shampoo had... but..." He looked down at himself.
"I'm kinda at a disadvantage at the moment."
Akane snorted. "Only you would call death a
'disadvantage,'" she said, with a half smile.
Ranma grinned. "Yeah. This is just a temporary setback,
right?"
Akane's small smile grew, and she nodded. "Right."
"Damn right!" Ranma raised his fist enthusiastically.
"Nobody defeats Ranma Saotome for long. Not even death! I ain't
gonna give up until the Ancient One agrees to help us. Even if
all I can do right now is... is *haunt* him."
Akane giggled.
And Ranma suddenly felt great. Here was Akane, obviously
upset and disturbed by the events of the past few minutes, and if
that weren't bad enough, she was carrying his corpse... and with
all that, he had still been able to make her smile. To make her
laugh.
It was a new power, a kind he had never really exercised
before. Before the blood spell, he had been too afraid of his own
reaction to her smiles to actively seek them out. But now...
"Besides, if it comes down to it," Ranma continued, trying
not to get flustered by the realization of how cute she looked at
that moment, "I... I think you could take him on. I mean, you
helped me fight that eight-headed dragon at Ryuganzawa, and that
was back when you were a clu... I mean, back before you became
this, uh, kick-ass demon hunter."
Akane snorted. "Nice save," she said, her smile turning
wry. "But thanks."
"Ah-heh..." Ranma's hand slipped behind his head, even as
he mentally kicked himself. *Idiot, don't blow it now by
falling back into old habits!*
"Okay, then," Akane said, nodding firmly. "We'll do it your
way. If the Ancient One wants strength... We'll show him what
it means to cross Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo."
Ranma grinned. "All right! Now you're talkin'!" He turned
back to the cave entrance. "You hear that, dragon?" he yelled.
"We ain't taking no for an answer! So come on out and face us!"
They were answered with an all-pervasive silence from the
darkness.
In fact, as they stood there, they slowly realized that,
through their whole conversation, there hadn't been the slightest
flicker of response from anything inside the cave at all.
"Ancient One!" Ranma could hear his voice echoing deep
inside the cave. "Hey, c'mon! I don't got all day!"
*Got all day...* the cave echoed.
Ranma and Akane looked at each other, both at a loss.
"Um..." Akane cleared her throat after a long moment.
"Maybe he's not home," she suggested.
Ranma immediately spluttered in exasperation. "Not home?
Not *home*? He's a dragon! Where's he gonna go, grocery
shopping?"
"I don't know," Akane replied tersely, "but he's not
answering, obviously, and I'm not sensing anything either. So
either he's gone, or he's so deep in the cave that he can't hear
us."
Ranma sighed. "Great. Just great. What do we do now?"
"Well, why don't we just go in and look for him?"
"Akane..." Ranma sighed again. "Look, that may seem like a
great solution to you, since you've apparently developed this
hyperactive battle sense that will keep you from running into bad
guys and walls and other stuff in the dark, but only two of my
six senses seem to be working at the moment," he said, pointing
to an ear and an eye, "and if we go in there, I'll be down to
one."
"Oh." Akane's mouth puckered in a small frown as she looked
at him, her eyes glimmering with distress. "I'm sorry, I keep
forgetting that you can't... I mean..."
"Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter anyway," Ranma said,
looking into the impenetrable shadows inside the cave. Being
blind wasn't so bad when you could at least sense your
surroundings. But this... "We don't got a choice. I guess what
we could do is, you could talk, and I'll just try to follow your
voice and do my best not to... to float through a wall or
something."
"Well, actually..." Akane's battle aura flared about her,
bathing everything within a fifteen foot radius in a flickering
blue light. She looked at him, enjoying the brief flash of
astonishment on his face. "I've had a bit of experience in
dealing with, um, pitch-black caves," she said.
Ranma stared, then raised an eyebrow. "Okay, that's...
cool." Akane's amazing control over her ki was going to take
some getting used to, especially since he was used to her ki
being wild and unfocused. But he certainly wasn't going to
complain -- at least, not right now. He felt embarrassed at how
relieved he was that he didn't have to go into the dark, unable
to sense anything around him...
...because, where before he had at least taken comfort in
the seeming-solidity of his own ghostly form, that comfort was
now lost in the terrifying sensation of continually bleeding from
the long, thin puncture wound in his abdomen. On top of that, no
matter what he did, he couldn't seem to wipe his bloody hands
clean...
And... there was a small seed of growing panic deep inside
his chest -- a desperation that craved to touch something solid;
that hungered to feel even something as insignificant as air
against his arms and face...
Or... better yet... something like the flicker of warmth
he'd felt when Akane had touched him, or when he had brushed his
intangible fingers against her face, and she had shivered...
Even that small, barely-felt whisper of life had been so
wonderful in comparison to the nothingness...
Delicious, almost...
Ranma swallowed, startled at the direction his train of
thought had turned...
...as he suddenly remembered hanging helplessly in the
embrace of a kuei. A kuei, who took pleasure in capturing
humans; in plunging its ghostly hands into living bodies, holding
its victims in a trance so that it could *feel* something beyond
itself...
Oh no.
"Ranma,"Akane said, her voice full of concern. "What's
wrong? Are you okay?"
He was a kuei. He was a kuei, and he had *touched* Akane...
touched her with tainted, cursed hands, just so that he could
feel... And Ranma blinked, realizing belatedly that his
horrified understanding must be plain on his face.
"Nothing," he said quickly, turning away so that she could
no longer see his expression. "I'm fine. Come on, let's go."
"But--"
"I said I'm fine, okay?!" he snapped. And immediately
regretted it. Even if he couldn't see her face, he could tell
from the abrupt silence that Akane was hurt.. "Oh man... I'm
sorry," he said miserably, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't
mean to yell."
"I'm just worried about you!" she said. Her voice was
tearful.
"I know," he said softly. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm
just..." He looked down at his bloody hands. "Let's just go
find this dragon, okay?"
Akane stared at Ranma's back, his stooped shoulders... at
the blood that continued to seep from his ghostly wound... and
realized with a start that Ranma, in spite of all his usual
bravado... was scared.
"Okay," she whispered.
And she stepped forward into the cave, her battle aura
penetrating the thick darkness, pushing it back. Ranma followed
her silently.
~*~
Fear was a strange thing, Nabiki realized, as she followed
Kuno closely through a night-shrouded copse of trees, keeping her
eyes fixed on his shadowed form ahead of her. She'd never
realized before just how many different ways there were to feel
afraid. There was the blinding white, almost detached terror of
seeing the thread of your own mortality slide along the razor
edge of death.
*Yeah. Been there, done that.*
And then there was the fear she was feeling now - not the
raw terror of before, but more of... a thick dread... a kind of
breathlessness, as if her lungs were full of lead; a tightness
through her shoulder blades, like taut piano wire. As if a
threat was still there in the writhing darkness of the living
forest around them, but lurking just... out of sight...
...or waiting for them at the end of the trail...
*Please, Ranma. Hurry and come back and defeat Cologne
*before* we reach the campsite...*
It was a selfish thought, she knew. Cologne had something
terrible planned for Ranma; something insidious. And the old
ghoul had seemed pretty damn confident that her final card in
this game of desperation would be powerful enough to make Ranma
abandon Akane and the rest of them, and willingly spend the rest
of his life as a deferring, subservient husband in a hard-nosed
matriarchal society. So whatever it was that she had planned had
to be bad. Very bad.
But even so, Ranma was still their best chance of winning
this conflict. Ukyo, Ryoga, Shampoo and Mousse had been
defeated, and she didn't have any further delusions that she and
Kuno might be able to stand up to the ancient Amazon alone, so
what other hope did they have?
What if Ranma didn't make it back in time? What if he was
so busy having his glorious reunion with Akane that he didn't
return until it was too late? What if she and Kuno inadvertently
beat him to the clearing, and walked right back into Cologne's
waiting hands?
Then again, maybe that wouldn't be a problem, if they kept
up at their current pace...
Nabiki held her arms up protectively around her face and
eyes because of the threat of unseen branches. Kuno was taking
similar precautions, she noticed, and yet he refrained from
clearing the way with his bokken for fear of losing the evidence
of the path he'd created in daylight. Still, she took comfort in
the fact that at least he seemed to know where he was going.
"Watch your step," he said softly. "The terrain is very
uneven through here."
"Thanks." She ducked under a low-hanging branch that Kuno
held out of her way, and felt a rush of gratitude for the small
kindness. Some lingering tattered shred of stubborn pride
instinctively bristled within her, but she immediately squashed
the impulse. To slip back into ice-queen mode now would be
detrimental to her present purpose -- namely, getting out of this
predicament alive. Kuno was in full-blown protective guardian
mode, and she knew it would be the height of foolishness to
undermine him when this was exactly what she needed if they were
going to survive the night.
It still amazed her how he had managed to shed his insipid
Love-Struck Warrior Poet persona in favor of his new-and-improved
Humbled Fallen Samurai. But hey, if putting on that mask allowed
him to wear a courageous facade in the face of humiliation... if
it gave him the ability to protect her and make her feel even the
slightest bit safer than before... if, by some chance, it
actually *changed* him... so much the better.
*Hey Kuno, do you have an extra mask I could borrow? I have
to admit, yours actually seems pretty cool right now. Oh, and
while you're looking through your Bag o' Personalities, could you
check and see if you have anything that could make me a fighter
strong enough to kick Cologne's butt, rather than some pathetic
liability to this whole stupid expedition?*
Nabiki clenched her jaw. True, she wasn't too thrilled
about having to be completely dependent on Kuno for protection,
but at least she could live with it. Living *was* the idea,
after all. Getting back home in one piece without any serious
maiming would be a pleasant bonus...
What she *really* hated was this place. This primeval
forest, four days journey away from the nearest primitive human
dwelling. This deep, isolated forest that guarded the steep,
jutting peak of a lonely forbidden mountain... was *old.* A
landscape straight out of her worst nightmare. The twisted,
towering trees, the tangled vines, the thick, spongy carpet of
leaves and pine needles, the moist, musty air that she could feel
under her skin... All these things held secrets that a person
who had spent most of their life sleeping under the neon-polluted
night sky of Tokyo would never dare guess.
We are far older than you, the forest sang softly, and she
heard the song clearly in the faint, echoing call of birds; the
rustling, grunting and hissing of wild animals. The trees moved
and swayed to the voiceless music of the cool night wind. We are
older than you, they sang, and we are home to creatures whose
natures you could not possibly imagine...
Kuno could hear it as well, apparently. She could tell by
the way he kept pausing, tilting his head slightly, then moving
forward again with a caution that belied the boldness of his
bearing.
Shampoo had said that the woods were safe; that the only
real danger lay on the demon-infested mountain.
But Shampoo had been wrong about a lot of things lately.
*I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it...*
She took another careful step... and froze, startled, as all
sounds around her abruptly ceased. The thrumming music of the
living forest silenced, the cool breeze died into nothing, and,
for a brief, frightened moment she thought she'd gone deaf, but
for the throbbing of her heartbeat in her ears. She stumbled,
nearly falling into Kuno, but he turned and caught her arm,
steadying her.
"Ah," Kuno gasped softly; and yet his voice carried loudly
in the sudden absence of other sounds. "It seems we are near the
Mountain of the Ancient One."
"Apparently," she agreed wryly, swallowing against the
thickness in her throat. She had experienced the same phenomenon
earlier that day where, in just a few steps, they had walked out
of a forest rustling with the constant murmur of life, and into a
forest where even the wind was still... except when it whispered
with a mocking voice as cold as death.
Entering the noiseless shroud that surrounded the Mountain
of the Ancient One had been unnerving the first time, in broad
daylight. Now, in the pressing darkness of night, knowing what
she knew...
"Come on." Nabiki clenched her teeth against the sudden
urge to chatter. "Let's get going. Ranma's probably already
taken care of everything, and they're probably looking for us."
Kuno nodded, released her arm, then stood for a moment,
looking searchingly into the thick tangle of forest before them.
"What are you waiting for?" Nabiki wrapped her arms tightly
around her chest and glanced around with growing nervousness. "I
don't know about you, but I want to get out of here as soon as
possible."
"The trail is gone."
Nabiki blinked. "What?"
Kuno turned to look at her, and even in the darkness, she
could see the perplexed look that creased his shadowed features.
"The trail... the path to the camp site that I created as I...
fled..." He reached out to carefully plunge one hand into the
unyielding tangle of shrubbery and vines in their path. "It has
disappeared. There are no more broken or severed branches,
nothing... It seems to have been overgrown, or... changed,
or..."
Funny, the different kinds of fear a person could feel,
Nabiki mused, as a completely new sick sensation suddenly filled
her gut. She should have known something like this would happen.
The forest within the Ancient One's boundary of silence seemed to
have erased their path.
"So," she said, and she was surprised at the calmness of her
own voice. "What you're saying is that we're lost. Well, can't
you just make another path going straight ahead? Won't that lead
us back to the camp site?"
Kuno cleared his throat uneasily. "I'm afraid," he said
quietly, "that, in my haste to save our lives, my escape was not
very... linear."
Nabiki stifled the urge to groan.
"However," he continued, turning to push at the tangled
barrier of foliage with the flat of his bokken, "I believe that
if we continue to follow the uphill grade, we shall eventually
emerge from this forest at the base of the mountain. We can then
follow the circumference of the mystical unseen barrier until we
discover our place of camp." He tilted his head at her in a
deferring gesture that surprised her. "Does this strike you as a
reasonable course of action?"
"Uh... sure," she replied slowly. It certainly sounded
better than her first rather dangerous inclination to try
climbing one of the twisted trees in the dark to see if they
could get their bearings.
She eyed Kuno speculatively. First, being able to follow
little more than a deer trail in near pitch black, and now this.
Kuno was turning out to be even more useful than she first
thought. Certainly more useful than *she* was feeling at the
moment, which is why she found it so odd that he would look for
her approval when he was clearly the one with the understanding
to deal with their current situation. "So, you learn all this
forestry stuff when you were a little Samurai Scout?" she asked
dryly.
"Yes."
Nabiki blinked as she caught the underlying smile in his
voice. Then her mouth quirked up at the corner in response.
She still wasn't sure what to make of this new side of Kuno.
He was much more quiet, for one thing. Introspective, even.
When he did talk, he still sounded a bit like an anal-retentive
literature student, but at least he had sense. And maybe even a
sense of humor. Which was a good thing to have, she supposed,
when you didn't even know if you were going to live through the
night.
"Well then," she said, smiling. "By all means, lead the
way."
With that, Kuno turned and began clearing the way before
them with swift sweeps of his bokken. Nabiki found herself once
again amazed at Kuno's skill; how he could make a wooden practice
sword behave like a blade of sharpest steel.
He was no Ranma when it came to martial arts. But that
didn't change the fact that, before Ranma and his other martial
artist cohorts had showed up in Nerima, Kuno had been the best,
which was no small feat.
The cleanly severed leaves and branches fell to the ground
with a steady rustle that might have been comforting... were it
not for the complete absence of other sounds.
"Hey, Kuno."
"Yes?"
"Can you sing?"
Kuno paused in cleaving his way through the forest and
turned to look at her in surprise. "Pardon?"
She shrugged. "It's just... this freaky silence and
everything. It's creeping me out, and I thought, you know, maybe
a... a hiking song or something..." Kuno stared at her, and she
could feel herself flushing red. She was suddenly glad, at least
momentarily, for the cover of darkness. What on earth was she
thinking, asking Kuno if he could *sing* of all things? Gah!
Chalk up one more strange thing that fear could do to a normally
rational person like herself...
"Okay," she said, clenching her teeth, "I know, it's a
stupid, cheesy idea. I don't care. Besides, it's not like we'll
be able to take Cologne by surprise or anything, what with you
crashing through this jungle like a rabid elephant." She waved
her hand towards the fallen foliage in an impatient gesture. "So
it's not like a bit of extra noise would hurt."
Kuno paused, as if carefully considering his words. "I
didn't say it was a stupid idea," he said at last.
"No," she replied shortly, "but you were staring at me like
it was."
"I was merely wondering why *you* don't sing, if you feel
such a need for it."
Nabiki nearly choked. Her? Sing in front of Kuno? "Sorry,"
she said quickly, "but my throat's so dry right now, I'd sound
like a bullfrog on a gravel diet."
Was that a smile on the edge of his lips? In the darkness,
she couldn't tell. He'd better not be laughing at her...
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a singer," he said.
Nabiki sighed and ran her hand through her hair, which,
after four days in the wilderness, only served to remind her how
badly she wanted a shower. "Fine. You won't sing, I won't sing.
Forget I mentioned it. Let's just *go,* okay?"
"Very well."
Kuno turned and resumed his hack-and-slash passage through
the forest.
After a few moments... he began whistling.
Nabiki blinked in surprise.
It was a rough, raspy sound at first, but then Kuno paused
to lick his lips. When he began again, the notes were clear and
steady, floating thinly through the vast silence that surrounded
them.
The notes rose and fell in a light, airy melody. It sounded
like an old folk song of some kind, though Nabiki didn't
recognize it.
And she felt herself flushing again, embarrassed and yet
grateful all the same. She felt silly, feeling so suddenly
comforted, like a child afraid of the dark who needed a night
light and a teddy bear. But better this than to allow herself to
be overwhelmed by everything that had happened, topped off with
her fears of everything that might be ahead of them... or around
them...
It was... awfully nice of Kuno to whistle, she reluctantly
admitted to herself. Probably one of the nicest things anyone
had ever done for her...
And in a way, his kindness scared her even more than the
terrifying, supernatural silence. His change in demeanor; his
unexpected thoughtfulness was making her feel... warm things
about him. He was whistling past the metaphorical graveyard for
her sake, to keep fear, ghosts or both away. He was giving her
strength and support at a time when she'd never felt more weak
and worthless. And, at this moment, he was making her feel so
intensely grateful, she could feel tears beginning to burn her
eyes and throat.
*On second thought... maybe this is the *perfect* time to
slip back into ice queen mode,* she thought.
Still, she possessed at least one more thread of self-
control; at least one spark of rationality that hadn't yet been
severed in the past few hours. And she clung to it like a
lifeline.
She was Nabiki Tendo. She could handle this. If there was
a way to get out of this nightmare alive, she would figure it
out.
And then she could decide, with a mind not muddled by
terror, how she *really* felt about Kuno.
So, instead of crying, she clenched her teeth against the
aching in her throat and the burning behind her eyes, and
followed Kuno silently. And she listened intently to the slash
of his bokken, the rustling of leaves and branches falling before
them, and the cheery folk tune that Kuno kept whistling, keeping
them surrounded with a small pocket of sound that was, if not
safe, at least keeping her terror at bay.
And then, in the distance, far outside their little pocket
of noise... they heard the wailing.
They both heard it at the same time, and they froze in mid-
movement, staring wide-eyed out into the darkness. Kuno's
whistling faltered, the notes dying on his lips, as the faint,
eerie sound reached their ears.
Nabiki's jaw was clenched so hard, it hurt. Taking a deep
breath, she forced herself to relax. "Um... I know I'm going to
be sorry for asking this," she said in a low voice, "but... what
in the hell was that?"
"I don't know." Kuno frowned, peering intently into the
inky darkness.
Nabiki grimaced. "Can you tell where it's-"
The words froze in her throat as the haunting, inhuman cry
rent the air again -- a shriek of fury and despair that made
goose bumps erupt along her arms.
And then Nabiki felt the strange breeze on her skin, biting
cold like the sting of needles.
"Okay," she said, with a strange, tight calmness. "I'm for
running. Right now. How about you?"
But before Kuno could even reply, they heard the scream
again, full of soul-rending rage, and Nabiki felt her heart
clamber violently up her throat as the sound reached a nerve-
jangling crescendo. And with the scream, an icy, freezing wind
whipped through the woods around them, lashing the foliage into a
frenzy, numbing the skin of her face and arms, making her nose
run and her ears ache... Through her shivering terror, Nabiki
realized belatedly that she was clutching Kuno's arm, and that
she intended to run, it didn't matter where, just as long as it
was away from *that* and so she would run and she would drag Kuno
along with her...
...but then the wind died. And as it did, the scream
faltered... and dissolved into quiet, broken... weeping?
Nabiki stood like a statue, peering blindly into the
darkness, listening intently, trying to hear over the thudding of
her heartbeat in her ears. Still, in the ensuing silence, it was
much easier to tell the direction of where the sound was coming
from...
Ahead of them, and off to the left...
"Kuno," she whispered, almost mouthing the word to keep the
sound from carrying. She pointed off to the right. "Let's go
that way. Come on, now's our chance."
Kuno didn't move. He was staring into the thick forest
towards the haunting, sobbing sound of despair.
Nabiki tugged impatiently on Kuno's arm. "Kuno..."
"Shh," he hushed. "Listen..."
"I don't *want* to listen," Nabiki hissed, trying to keep
from raising her voice. "I want to get the hell out of--"
And then the weeping changed to a whisper that sent a chill
of dread rippling up Nabiki's spine. The whisper was distant and
faint, but clear in the absence of other sounds.
"Akane," the voice sobbed quietly in a strangely familiar
voice. "Akane-chan..."
Kuno turned to look at Nabiki, and even in the darkness
Nabiki could see that his eyes were as wide as hers.
"Oh gods." Nabiki blinked as the pieces suddenly fell into
place. "It's the Snow Woman."
Kuno looked at her sharply in surprise. "The Snow Woman?
Are you sure?"
"Pretty damn sure," she replied shortly, still shivering
from the sudden onset of the unseasonable winter cold.
"But why is she here?" Kuno's voice was barely audible, but
Nabiki could still hear the disturbed tone of his voice. "Does
she not reside in the Kami Realm, as you said? Why did she
scream with such distress, and why is she calling for your
sister?"
The questions, which echoed the ones in her own heart,
caused an old familiar calm to settle within her. Nabiki felt
her down-to-business mask fall into place with an almost audible
*snap* as a fiery anxiousness rose within her chest, burning
through her frozen, incapacitating terror.
She looked at Kuno with a stoic, half-lidded gaze. "Let's
find out," she said.
That was all the urging Kuno needed. He immediately turned
and began to slash a trail through the choking foliage towards
the sound. Nabiki followed.
As they made their way through the dense forest, she noticed
that the fresh spring growth of the surrounding foliage... was
covered in a thin layer of white frost. The frost glinted in the
brief patches of starlight that managed to struggle through the
tangled, leafy canopy overhead. With each step they took towards
the piteous sound of the Snow Woman's quiet sobs, the temperature
seemed to drop, and the frost seemed to thicken around them until
each brush of a leaf brought with it the sensation of ice melting
against warm skin. The frozen ground crackled beneath their
feet.
Nabiki wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to
chatter.
Gradually, she began to see a soft blue glow filtering
through the darkness of the winter-shrouded thicket before them.
Each frost-layered leaf and branch seemed to catch the ghostly
light and hold it within each crystal, so that they seemed almost
luminescent in and of themselves. A thick white fog crept across
the forest floor, cold tendrils writhing about her ankles.
They were making their way through enchanted, crystalline
scenery straight out of a fairy tale, and Nabiki would have found
the sight almost beautiful, were she not so anxious to find the
source... The eerie bluish light was a welcome guide, making
Kuno's job of creating a path much easier, and Nabiki suddenly
found herself stepping quickly to keep up with him.
They emerged abruptly into a clearing, and they both
stopped, amazed at the sight before them.
Everything was covered in gleaming ice. Sheets of it
covered the ground, the rocks, the plants...
The Snow Woman knelt on the frozen ground, her head bowed as
she wept, her long white tresses flowing around her like water.
The soft blue glow that lit the clearing emanated from one
slender white hand that was pressed against the invisible barrier
of the Ancient One's Mountain... only the barrier was no longer
quite so invisible, for it was now covered with glittering
patches of frost that seemed to hang in the air like motionless
ice spirits.
Scattered on the frozen ground around the Snow Woman's
shuddering form, large jagged shards of a shattered mirror lay
glinting in the starlight.
Nabiki and Kuno stared, speechless.
The Snow Woman slowly raised her head and looked at them,
her smooth white face, etched with resigned misery, flickering
with brief surprise at their intrusion.
"You," she said softly, hoarsely, looking at Nabiki. "I
know you. You are Akane's sister..."
Nabiki stepped forward hesitantly, swallowing against the
sudden dryness in her throat. "Yes," she said. "Where is she?
Is she safe?"
"Safe?" came the lifeless reply. "Oh, no, no... Not safe,
not now... I tried to stop her... I tried to reach her first so
that she wouldn't see... but the dragon's barrier... He wouldn't
let me through..." Her free hand strayed to the slivers of glass
that surrounded her. "And... my mirror..."
"What are you talking about?" Nabiki asked tightly, trying
to smother the rising fear and frustration that swelled within
her at the Snow Woman's cryptic response. "Why isn't Akane
safe?"
The Snow Woman groaned low in her throat, a terrible sound
of anguish. "She is on the mountain... alone... and she mustn't
see..."
"See *what?*" Nabiki snapped, her ire rising. "If she's on
the mountain, then she's *not* alone! That means Ranma is with
her. He saved her, he broke the blood spell!"
The Snow Woman turned and glared at her suddenly, her frost-
blue eyes blazing even as tears of ice slid down her cheeks.
"You foolish child, don't you understand?" she cried. "Ranma
*cannot* save her! He is slain! Murdered by the demon
Shadowcat!"
Nabiki felt the blood slowly drain from her face. Behind
her, she heard Kuno mutter a low, broken oath. "Wh-what?"
"Ranma is dead," the Snow Woman said with a voice so full
grief and bitterness that it was like a raw, open wound. "And
Akane is alone on the mountain with nothing but demons and his
corpse for company."
"No," Nabiki whispered numbly. "That... that's
impossible..." Her head suddenly felt like it was full of cold
lead. Her hands were tingling. Her heart was thudding like a
rabbit's deep inside her chest. "Ranma... he... he can't..."
The Snow Woman sagged suddenly, reaching out with a white
hand to touch a shard of mirror lying on the frozen ground beside
her. "I saw it with my own eyes..."
Nabiki shook her head forcefully, as if doing so would
somehow erase the horror of the Snow Woman's revelation. "But...
the blood spell... Ranma broke it..."
"Yes. With his death," the Snow Woman whispered.
Nabiki stared at the Snow Woman in white-faced silence as
she suddenly found herself wondering how her little sister would
react when she found his body...
Kuno spoke from behind her, his voice low and intense.
"There *must* be some way to get past the barrier."
The Snow Woman turned on him, clenching her fists. "Do you
think I have not tried?! I have summoned all my power, weakened
though it is by this warm season, even calling upon the lingering
memory of winter from the earth for strength... and I can do
nothing! I have even pleaded for help from the foreign gods of
this land, but they answer me with silence!"
No adequate response came to Kuno's mind. He could only
stand, looking at the pale, beautiful woman of legend, helpless
and immobile, his mind numb and reeling at the news of Ranma's
death. The "foul sorcerer Saotome," the bane of his existence,
who had kept his True Loves from him for so long...
He would never get the chance to tell Ranma he was sorry...
And Akane...
"Cologne," Nabiki whispered.
Kuno looked at her, alarmed. "What?"
Nabiki turned her flat-eyed gaze towards him. "She had the
scroll that Shampoo used to get on the mountain the first time.
This is her land, these are her gods. On top of that, she's got
a few thousand years of Amazon history behind her, as she never
hesitates to remind us. If anyone knows how to get past the
Ancient One's barrier, she does."
"Are you suggesting," Kuno asked steadily, "that we return
and request help from one who desires to kill you?"
Nabiki didn't answer. Instead, she looked at the Snow
Woman. "You fought Cologne before. Can you do it again?"
The Snow Woman shook her head wearily. "I was able to
defeat the Amazon, only because I had the power of my own domain
at my command, and because I was able use my mirror to bridge the
gap between realms. Now my mirror lies shattered, and I am
trapped in this land, in a season where Nature itself binds my
power."
Nabiki nodded, her mouth a tight, thin line. "I see. Well,
Cologne has her own little handicap to deal with. I shot a big
hole in her shoulder, and I'm sure it's taking a lot of her will
power, or ki, or whatever to keep herself upright."
The Snow Woman looked at her sharply, her eyes wide.
"Shot..?"
"You know, with a gun." Nabiki's face was expressionless as
she made a shooting motion with one hand. "Bang. The old ghoul
was busy taking out my friends, so she wasn't expecting it. The
wound probably would have killed anyone else, but like I said,
she's got that ki stuff to hold herself together. Still, I
expect that would even the odds a bit for you."
The Snow Woman frowned speculatively, and she straightened,
rising gracefully to her feet. The weary resignation in her
countenance slowly faded as a new spark of faint hope glinted in
her frost-blue eyes. "Yes," she murmured. "That would indeed
level the playing field..."
Kuno watched the eerily-calm exchange between Nabiki and the
Snow Woman with growing unease, and cleared his throat. "Even if
by chance the old woman does know the secret to pass the barrier,
how can we force her to reveal it to us? I do not think she
would help us... *especially* if she were defeated."
Nabiki shrugged with a casualness that Kuno found deeply
disturbing. "She went through all this trouble to get Ranma,"
she said. "We'll just tell her he's in trouble. Or maybe even
offer him to her in exchange for getting us through the barrier."
Kuno couldn't hide his shock at her callousness. "But--"
"He's dead," Nabiki said coldly, her eyes flat and opaque as
smoked glass. "It doesn't matter. There's nothing we can do
about it now, but that doesn't mean I can't use the knowledge to
my advantage. I just want my sister off that mountain. Now are
you going to help us or not?"
Kuno stared at her for a long moment.
Nabiki stared right back at him. And, just beneath the
surface of those flat, emotionless eyes... he thought he saw a
flicker of unspeakable grief and anger...
He closed his eyes and nodded. "All right."
"Then let us not waste any more time," said the Snow Woman.
"Lady," Kuno said with cautious respect, "while I agree that
we must act with haste for Akane's sake, I am afraid we are lost
in this wilderness. Our camp lies somewhere near this barrier,
but the base of the mountain is vast."
Rather than answering, the Snow Woman reached down and
picked up a single shard of mirror, the size of her hand, and
kissed it with her icy breath. The swirling frost magic cleared
to reveal within the shard, the image of an ancient, white-haired
crone, hunched over her wounded shoulder as she stared into the
flickering flames of a campfire...
"There," Yuki-onna said, her voice as cold and hard as the
mirror's surface. "This will show us the quickest way." She
looked up and met Kuno's astonished gaze, and a small, grim smile
quirked the edges of her white lips. "For good or ill, young
mortal, we will confront the Amazon soon."
~*~
Akane had lots of practice when it came to entering the
domains and habitats of preternatural beings, so she wasn't all
that surprised when, as she stepped into the absolute darkness of
the Ancient One's cave, she felt as though she were passing
through a whispery-thin membrane, moist and fragile, like the
surface of a soap bubble. It allowed her to pass, flowing around
her without breaking, springing back taut and whole behind her.
And then she was inside the cave, with Ranma standing next to
her.
*Did you feel that?* she wanted to ask him, but before she
could... she saw the cavern.
They stood for a moment in stunned silence as they stared,
wide eyed, at their surroundings.
"Whoa," Ranma finally said.
"You said it," Akane breathed. "I guess I won't need to use
my battle aura after all."
The cavern was, as she expected, immense. It reminded her
of the inside of the Tokyo Dome, only... bigger. However... the
rounded walls and ceiling were formed of perfect, unnaturally
smooth pearl-gray stone. And, embedded within the stone....
thousands upon thousands of large, tear-shaped gems lined the
cavern, shining with faint golden light, suffusing everything
with a soft, warm glow.
Ranma cleared his throat in surprise. "Shampoo... didn't
mention this," he said.
Akane looked up at the ceiling that seemed to reach much
higher than the mountain peak outside had indicated. "She
probably didn't see it, if she stayed outside the cave," she
murmured with soft amazement. Shifting Ranma's increasingly-
heavy body within her arms to get a better grip, she walked over
to the nearest wall to examine the strange glowing stones. "We
passed through some kind of barrier. Probably an illusion spell
of some kind that keeps intruders from seeing what's actually in
here."
Ranma gave her an odd look, which she missed, because she
wasn't looking at him. As a matter of fact, he noticed, she was
being quite careful to look at everything except him.
Not that he could blame her. Looking down at himself in the
warm, golden glow, he could really see, for the first time, just
how bad he actually looked. Out on the night-shrouded mountain
side, darkness and faint starlight had done wonders to cover up
the gore. He grimaced. Those gruesome specters they had
encountered at the Cave of Lost Love didn't have a thing on him,
he mused soberly. The blood that slicked his hands, drenched
his shirt, and trickled continuously from the corner of his
mouth, glistened, bright and wet in the unforgiving light.
Another somewhat less-disturbing discovery was that, while
Akane had faint shadows spread about her feet like flower petals,
due to the thousands of glowing stones that surrounded them, he
remained perfectly shadow-less. Creepy.
"So," he said with forced casualness. "You've come across
something like this before? Something looking different on the
inside than it does on the outside?"
"Mm, once or twice," Akane agreed distractedly, as she got a
close-up look at one of the glowing, tear-shaped stones. It was
easily twice the size of her head. And, now that she was closer,
she could see that the stone wasn't embedded in the wall at all,
but rather, it was smooth and flat, and mounted to the wall by
three tiny golden hooks -- two at the wide rounded base, and one
at the pointed tip. She wanted to touch it, to see if it was as
warm as the light it emitted, but she wasn't willing to let go of
Ranma's body to free her hands.
"Dragon scales," Ranma said, coming up behind her.
"Yes," Akane agreed. "I think I remember hearing somewhere
that, after a dragon sheds its scales, they glow..."
Ranma shook his head as he took in the overwhelming view.
"Jeeze. The Ancient One must be one damn huge monster. But hey,
I betcha he's saving a ton on his electric bill."
Akane let out a short, nervous laugh, as she glanced at
Ranma out of the corner of her eye. She didn't quite succeed in
suppressing a shudder as she carefully averted her gaze away from
him, and silently prayed that Ranma didn't notice.
He noticed. He thought about saying something, like *Sorry
I'm looking so gross at the moment,* but somehow he got the
feeling that it wouldn't make her feel any better. It certainly
wasn't making *him* feel all that great...
"Hey, look," Akane said, breaking him from his dark
thoughts. "What's that over there?"
Ranma followed her gaze to the far end of the cavern, where
a small, oval shaped hole broke the smooth continuity of the
scale-lined wall. "Maybe a doorway or something? Though it
seems really small for a dragon..."
"Come on." Akane began walking towards it quickly. "Let's
check it out."
Ranma frowned, keeping a silent, gliding pace with her as
they crossed the floor of the vast cavern. *You stay here,* he
wanted to say. *This is too weird, too dangerous. I don't want
you getting hurt. Let me take care of it.*
Yeah, right. He couldn't stop her from going, even if he
wanted to -- a fact that was bugging the hell out of him to no
end. Ranma clenched his jaw in frustration. The situation was a
double-edged sword. So what if Akane was now a veteran warrior?
That didn't stop him from wanting to protect her; from wanting to
keep her from needing to fight. But to do that, he needed his
life back, and to accomplish that... Akane might need to fight.
And fight a dragon who, from the looks of the cavern, was just as
huge and dangerous as Shampoo had said...
Of course, fighting the Ancient One wouldn't even be an
issue if they couldn't even manage to *find* him...
As they approached the oval hole, they discovered that it
was indeed a doorway of some kind. The opening was about five
meters high and three meters wide. Beyond, a single glowing
dragon scale was mounted on the wall, softening the darkness
within with diffused, golden light, and they could see a winding
staircase, formed from the same strange smooth pearl-gray rock,
that spiraled upward.
Silently, Akane stepped into the passage way. A cool breeze
brushed her skin, and she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
"Ranma... can you smell that?"
"Akane..." he sighed, as he drifted beside her.
She opened her eyes as she felt herself flush with
embarrassment. "Sorry. I keep forgetting that you..." She
sighed. "Anyway," she continued in a low voice, "this is weird,
but... I can smell flowers. And... water. Like the air before a
rainstorm."
"Rain?" Ranma blinked. "Inside a cave?"
"I've seen stranger things," Akane replied with a half-
smile. "Come on." She started up the narrow, winding spiral
staircase.
Ranma followed close behind, since the stairway was too
narrow for them to walk side by side. At first, he was inwardly
annoyed; his already severely bruised male pride rankling at
being unable to take the lead.
However, after several minutes of climbing, each moment
spent staring at Akane's back, Ranma found himself...
increasingly fascinated by the sweeping mass of her long, dark
hair. It swung almost hypnotically before his eyes, back and
forth over the graceful movement of her swaying hips as she
climbed the stairs with swift ease...
Ranma blinked, only then realizing that his eyes were about
as wide as saucers. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to look
away, even as he wondered how long he had been staring. What on
earth was he thinking? This certainly wasn't the time or place
for such thoughts! And, oh man, if Akane knew what had been
going through his mind, she'd be furious...
Then again...
*Never be sorry for wanting to touch me...*
Akane's words from just a short while before rang in his
head, mocking him as he looked down at his bloody hands. Okay.
Maybe she wouldn't be furious. But that possibility only made it
worse...
*Akane... you have no idea...*
He was acutely aware of that small seed of panic, that he
had first felt at his realization of the true nature of his kuei
curse, slowly growing within him, and he fought it back fiercely.
The desire to touch something solid was a deep, gnawing ache.
And worse, the memory of Akane's living warmth evoked a *hunger*
in him, as though his chest were hollow, and could only be filled
by allowing his intangible hands to drift within her living
body...
His bloody fingers twitched at his sides, and he clenched
his fists convulsively.
Okay. The walls. He'd look at them. They were a hell of a
lot less interesting. Each rotation on the seemingly-endless
stairway only brought into view yet another glowing dragon scale
and more stairway. But at least *that* view didn't make him want
to reach out and...
"Ranma..."
Ranma jerked, facing forward abruptly, hoping that the guilt
he felt wasn't plain on his face.
But Akane wasn't even looking at him. And, peering beyond
her, he could see that she had reached the top of the stairs, and
was standing in front of another doorway. It was the same shape
and size as the one below, but the opening was draped with
cobalt-blue silks, billowing with the slight breeze that
whispered through the opening. White pearls, each the size of
his fist, lined the oval rim, shimmering with a muted, silvery
light.
Akane turned to look over her shoulder at him then, and her
expression was tense with an almost fearful anticipation. "Come
on," she whispered. "I think this is it. There's something
powerful in there..." And before Ranma could even utter a
warning for her to be careful, she slipped through the veiled
doorway, holding his body close.
Akane swallowed a gasp as she stepped through the shrouding
veils of silk... and emerged from the cave into open air, and
onto a landscape of rolling, tree-lined hills that stretched in
all directions.
The night sky above was brilliant with a vast expanse of
stars, glittering with impossible nearness. The Milky Way seemed
to move and ripple above her, like a bright river flowing across
the sky, bathing the land in pale light. Immediately before her,
a scarlet bridge stretched over a small stream that cut a swath
through carefully trimmed grasses before merging into a vast,
still pond that reflected the night sky in all its glory. Lotus
flowers floated on the pond's silver surface, their moonlight-
white petals open to the sky and wet with dew. Beds of flowers
and rocks were arranged tastefully around the pond. The humid
air was heavy with the scent of lilies that lined the banks of
the stream, and a gentle breeze whispered through a grove of
willow trees near the pond, the tips of their low-hanging
branches stretching out over the watery mirror.
Most impressive of all, though, were the eight pillars of
iridescent light in the distance. Each pillar seemed to be a
point in a vast, perfect octagon, of which the garden stood at
the center. The pillars rose from the ground, stretching up
until they seemed to merge with the light of the stars
themselves.
Ranma came to stand by Akane, his eyes scanning the skies,
but not to take in the splendor of the stars, nor the strange
pillars of light. He took in his surroundings, oblivious to the
beauty, with a caution born of not being able to use the living
senses he had lost; of being unable to perceive the source of the
power Akane had mentioned. Gradually, as his searching eyes
found no hint of any other presence, his caution melted into
outright aggravation. He turned to Akane, to see if she was
having any luck, but found that she was too busy ogling the
flowers. "Well?" he said irritably. "Where the hell is this
dragon, anyway?"
Akane shook her head. "I... I don't know. There's a
feeling of power here, but... it's all over. I can't tell where
it's coming from. It's too spread out." She shrugged uneasily.
"It might even be coming from those columns of light, for all I
know."
Ranma snorted with disgust. "Sheesh. You'd think that, as
big as he is, the Ancient One wouldn't be able to hide so damn
well."
Akane was about to respond, when she caught a glimpse of
movement out of the corner of her eye. Ranma noticed it the same
moment, because they both turned towards it simultaneously.
Something was moving towards them through the shadows of the
willow grove less than twenty meters away.
"Akane." Ranma hissed the warning through clenched teeth.
She nodded, and hastily knelt down, gently laying Ranma's
body on the grass before reaching back to draw her sword as she
stood in a ready stance. Ranma stood next to her, anxiously
wishing he could do more than just stand by helplessly if they
should be attacked by whatever creature a dragon would leave to
guard its lair...
They watched the figure emerged from the shadows of the
trees... and they both blinked.
It was an old man, stooped with age. He wore long
nondescript brown robes, and his gray hair was pulled back into a
ponytail at the base of his neck. His long, thin mustache hung
nearly down to the end of his beard, which was tied neatly at the
end with a short piece of string. He paid them no heed, but
instead, walked slowly over to a bed of pale blue irises, knelt
down, and with great care, began to pull weeds, placing them into
a small cloth bag that hung at his waist.
Ranma stared, flummoxed. "Uh... The Ancient One has a
gardener?"
Akane looked slowly over at Ranma, her eyes still wide with
surprise. "Ranma," she whispered. "I think that *is* the
Ancient One."
"What?" Ranma looked again. Yup, still the same old guy,
digging in the dirt, and apparently too senile to even realize
they were standing less than fifteen meters away. "No way. That
ain't him."
"Yes it *is*," Akane insisted, leaning towards him and
lowering her voice even further. "Trust me, I've seen this a
dozen times. An all-powerful deity disguised as a lowly peasant
or priest or something. And besides, can't dragons change
shape?"
"You're asking me?" Ranma grumbled, making no attempt to be
quiet, his frustration at the whole situation getting the better
of him. If, after everything he'd been through, the dragon
turned out to be some stupid old guy, he was going to be
incredibly pissed. "You're the expert, obviously, so you tell
me."
Akane's expression slid into one of hurt anger. "I'm just
trying to help," she whispered back fiercely.
Ranma almost snapped back, old habits rearing their ugly
heads... but instead, he sighed, struggling to get his temper
back under control. "I know, I know," he said wearily. "I'm not
mad at you... I'm just mad at this whole stupid situation." He
looked at her and smiled weakly. "Sorry for being a jerk about
it."
Akane softened immediately. "I'm sorry too." She laughed a
little, but it sounded tired and a little afraid. "This...
getting along... is going to take a bit of getting used to."
Ranma nodded. *I only hope we have the chance to get used
to it,* he thought, his eyes straying back to the old man who
still seemed blissfully unaware of their presence, though, if
Akane was right about him, that probably wasn't the case at all.
He peered at the old man intently, a scowl creasing his face as
the old man continued to work amidst the flowers without even a
glance in their direction. "I'm gonna go talk to him," he said,
stepping forward.
"Wait," Akane whispered urgently. She was going to say,
*Let me talk to him,* since she had more experience in trying to
bargain with other-worldly entities... not that she'd really ever
had much success, but that was beside the point...
However, when Ranma looked back at her, impatience and
determination plain on his pale, gray-skinned countenance, she
swallowed her words. She knew his male pride was stinging badly
from being physically incapable of helping her so far. The least
she could do was trust him to handle this...
"Just..." She took a deep breath. "Try not to make him
angry, okay?" she said with a small, hopeful smile.
Ranma gave her a small flash of his old, cocky grin. "Hey,
don't worry about it. I'll be diplomatic, you just watch." And
before Akane could say another word, he turned and quickly
approached the kneeling old man until he was standing right
before his bowed, silver-haired head.
"Ahem," he said, clearing his throat, hoping the old man
would finally look up and notice him.
The old man didn't look up. Instead, he reached down once
again and parted the irises at the roots to grasp a thin, curling
weed, pluck it carefully from the soil, and place it in the bag
at his waist.
"Um... excuse me," Ranma said, with rather forced
politeness, since he was growing more irritated with each passing
second.
No response. Another weed went into the old man's bag.
"Hey, you," Ranma snapped. "Look at me, dammit! I'm tired
of being ignored!"
Behind him, he could hear Akane groan, and he could almost
hear her thinking, *So much for diplomacy.* He grimaced. Okay,
so he blew it. But he was just so tired of this whole charade...
He broke off in mid-thought as the old man slowly raised his
head to look up at him.
The old man's eyes were utterly inhuman in the wrinkled,
aging face -- solid black and liquid, like a film of ink over
pools of night. And, deep within the center of each midnight
orb, a shimmering glow the size of a pin prick, as if the
darkness within each eye had been punctured and was bleeding
light.
Ranma swallowed his surprise. "Uh... hey there..." he said
nervously, his bravado slipping away beneath that unearthly gaze.
"Uh... so, you're the Ancient One, huh?"
The old man's face creased unexpectedly with a smile. Ranma
could see that his teeth behind the withered lips were white and
sharp.
The old man looked beyond Ranma to where Akane was standing,
wide-eyed. "Daughter of fire and ice," he said, his voice soft,
though there was a distant roaring sound behind it, like the rush
of an immense waterfall. Then he looked back at Ranma, his black
eyes reflecting nothing. "Infant kuei," he said.
Ranma's eye twitched, and he clenched his teeth. *Who are
you calling an infant?* he wanted to say. His chest burned with
indignation and humiliation, but, with every ounce of his self
control, he bit back the words, once again swallowing his pride.
As much as he wanted, to, he couldn't pound the guy's face in, he
reminded himself. He finally had the old guy's attention, and he
had some business to take care of. Getting his life back was far
more important than anything else. He couldn't let Akane down by
losing his temper again.
*Diplomacy,* he thought to himself forcibly.
"Ancient One," he said, and the amount of respect he was
able to muster in his voice surprised even him. "I have a
request to make."
The old man looked at him for a long moment, the strange
points of light glinting deep within his liquid black eyes...
then he laughed quietly; a sound like the shushing of a windless
rainstorm against forest foliage.
Ranma blinked, perplexed and annoyed. "What's so funny?"
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You *are* the Ancient One,
right?*
"I am," came the quiet, amused reply.
Before Ranma could say anything, Akane stepped forward to
stand next to him. "Please, Ancient One," she said, fighting off
a wave of uneasiness as she looked in to the ethereal depths of
the old man's eyes. "I... I am willing to pay the blood price,
in exchange for your help." She took a deep breath as she saw,
in her peripheral vision, Ranma's head swivel towards her, his
eyes wide with shock. "Whatever it takes," she whispered.
"No way." Akane flinched at the anger in Ranma's voice, and
when she glanced over at him, she saw the old, familiar
stubbornness in his expression. "I'm not letting him touch a
hair on your head," he said fiercely.
"But Ranma--"
"You're already wounded," he said, turning away from the old
man to face her directly. "You carry yourself well, and try to
hide that you're hurt, but I know damn well that all the blood on
your clothes ain't just mine. And you're starting to limp," he
said, pointing down to her bloodied foot.
Akane looked down and frowned. She had almost forgotten
about her entangling encounter with the spider demon that had
punctured her foot when she kicked against its spiny legs. Okay,
so it was true that she had been wounded in the fight with the
demons before she crossed back over into the mortal realm, but...
"So what?" she asked, looking back up at Ranma, her determination
matching his. "I can handle a lot worse."
"I said no!" he snapped. And in his eyes, behind the anger,
she could see all of his worry and concern for her, which both
pleased her immeasurably, and irritated her at the same time.
"Ranma, don't be foolish!" she snapped back. "This may be
the only way to bring you back!"
"You ain't paying some stupid blood price when I already
bled all over his damn mountain," he said hotly, gesturing with a
thumb towards the old man, who sat watching their exchange in
silence. "If a blood price is what it takes, he already got one
from *me* ten times over."
"Indeed," said the old man, startling both of them. Ranma
and Akane turned towards him as he slowly got to his feet,
brushing the soil off his hands against his coarse robe, giving
them a glimpse of his long, sharp nails. He looked at Ranma and
smiled, pointed white teeth glinting. "Infant kuei..."
Ranma bristled instinctively against the insolent name, and
clenched his teeth. "Hey..."
"You speak the truth," the old man finished.
That sent Ranma's anger into a tailspin. His jaw sagged as
he and Akane exchanged a surprised, hopeful glance. "I... I do?"
he asked, looking back at the old man who, now that he was
standing, was a lot larger than he first seemed. Ranma had to
look up to meet his disturbing, gleaming black eyes. "I paid the
blood price?"
The old man nodded. "Your blood has fed my mountain, seeped
into its soil. Your dying breath stirred the dust on my holy
ground." His black, bottomless gaze fixed on Ranma's face. "The
price is paid," he said quietly. "What would you have of me,
infant kuei?"
Ranma twitched. "Well, you can stop calling me that, for
one thing!" he said... and as his thoughts caught up with his
mouth a moment later, he mentally kicked himself, even as he
heard Akane's dismayed cry of "Ranma!"
"So." The old man tilted his head slightly. "You wish to
be released from your eternal curse?"
Ranma blinked, taken aback. "Uh... y-yeah," he stuttered,
even as he caught Akane's panicked expression -- an expression
that said she thought he was about to screw up their only chance
of getting out of this mess together. "I mean, no!" he amended.
"I mean..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. *Jeeze,
get a grip, Saotome, this is it.*
He opened his eyes and met the old man's gaze with resolve.
"I want you to bring me back to life. That's my request."
The old man stared at him for a long moment.
"Back to life?" he said at last.
Ranma nodded sharply. "Right. Back to life. See? My
body's right there." He pointed back to where Akane had rested
his lifeless body on the grass. "So just... do whatever you all-
powerful dragons do, and put me back."
The old man's black eyes widened in surprise. "You are
serious?" Then he laughed; only this time, it was a soft, rueful
chuckle.
"What's wrong?" Akane asked pensively. "You... you can help
us, right?"
The old man looked at her seriously. "I cannot."
"Augh," Ranma snarled, clenching his bloody fists in
frustration. "You can't or you won't? Don't jerk me around, old
man! I paid your stupid blood price, now keep your end of the
bargain!"
The old man raised a thin, gray eyebrow at him. "Old I may
be... but 'all powerful' I am not. I am a dragon, the guardian
of the Celestial Realms. I maintain the pillars that support the
home of the gods. Many things are within my power. But the
spark of life, once extinguished by the infinite dark, is not so
easily rekindled, even by one such as I."
Ranma heard Akane's sharp, shuddering intake of breath
beside him. He didn't dare look at her, not with the dread he
felt showing so clearly on his face. It was something he hadn't
truly dared contemplate until this moment. That the Ancient One
wouldn't be able to help them. That he was well and truly dead.
That he had finally encountered the one opponent that he could
not eventually defeat.
Ranma closed his eyes, as if in pain, though, as usual, he
couldn't feel a thing. This... couldn't be. Not after
everything they had been through.
When he opened his eyes, they were slits of blue fire as he
stared up at the old man before him. "You're full of crap, old
man," he said in a low, tight voice that almost hid his fear.
"You... you gotta bring me back to life. You let me onto your
mountain, but didn't let any of my friends come with me. You
didn't help me when I was dying on your damn doorstep. Now I
don't care if you have to pull in favors from all those gods you
say you're protecting. But you are going to bring me back to
life, and you're going to do it now."
"Infant kuei," the old man said with a sigh. "You speak of
the gift of life so lightly. You, a departed spirit, who should
know better than any living creature just how precious and
fragile life is. How, when Death comes, his touch is
incontrovertible and irrevocable. So much so, that the power to
restore the spark of life is not given to all the gods."
"Not all," said Akane, grasping desperately at the
qualifier. "But some, right? There are some gods that can do
it?"
The dragon sighed. "Once there was a woman," he said
quietly, "who lost her only son to a swift, deadly illness.
Grief-stricken, and unwilling to bear the loss, the woman sought
for Xi Wang Mu, the Queen Mother of the West, so that she might
plead with him to restore her son to her."
Ranma frowned. "Oh great. Why do I get the feeling I ain't
gonna like this story?" He glanced at Akane and saw the same
sentiment written on her features.
"The woman knew the legends of the Queen Mother of the
West," the old man continued, as if there had been no
interruption, "and knew that Xi Wang Mu possessed an elixir of
immortality, made from the peaches in her sacred garden that
ripened only once every ten thousand years. So, taking only a
little food and clothing, she traveled many days to reach the
Crown of the World, where the gods dwelled for many years before
ascending to the sky. There, by the great Lake Yaochi, she found
Xi Wang Mu tending to the lotus flowers. Falling at her feet,
in grief and exhaustion, she told Xi Wang Mu of her dead son, and
begged her to restore him to life.
"Xi Wang Mu was impressed by the love and devotion this
mother had for her son, but told her that her elixir could only
grant immortality to the living, not restore the life to the
dead. At this, the woman wept greatly. Xi Wang Mu took pity on
her then, and told her to go to each house in her village, and
speak with each family. 'If you can find one person who has not
been touched by the death of a loved-one,' she told her gently,
'I will bring your son back to life.'
"So the woman did as the Queen Mother of the West asked, and
returned to her village, going from door to door, asking each
person she met, 'Has Death taken a loved-one from you?' She went
to every last house, and put her question to every individual,
from adult to child. Wherever she went, she was met with a sad-
eyed, solemn 'Yes.' And with each affirmative answer, there was
a story to be told, with smiles and tears, of the husband or
wife, parent or child, brother or sister, who had been taken by
the cold touch of the Ghosts of Impermanence.
"And after she had listened to each story, and received her
last answer, the woman despaired, for she knew then that there
was no soul on earth who had not been touched by death in some
manner. And yet, the knowledge also brought her comfort, for she
understood at last that death is no respecter of persons, and
comes to all, male and female, old and young, bond and free."
The old man fell silent.
Ranma blinked. "... That's it?!" he yelled.
The old man looked at Akane. "That," he said, "is the
answer to your question."
Akane's eyes filled with tears. Inside, she was trembling
and angry. She wanted to kick the old bastard, and would have,
if she thought it might have done any good. "So... after
everything," she whispered, "we're just supposed to... to accept
this?"
Ranma eyes widened, and he clenched his fists. He didn't
want to believe that. And yet, his hand went almost
instinctively to his bleeding stomach to feel the ghostly wound
there, and he shuddered at the memory of Yin Wu Ch'ang Kuei's
phantom hand entering his body as his life was swallowed by an
deep, icy darkness...
This was it, then, he realized with a cold, sinking
finality. The Ancient One couldn't help him. He was dead, and
there was no coming back. It was over.
Akane was going to have to leave the mountain without him.
He didn't want her to leave. It was selfish to feel that
way, he knew, but the thought of being trapped for an eternity on
this mountain, alone, terrified him. And the thought of being
separated from her again... forever... was agony.
But she couldn't stay here with him. He couldn't do that to
her. What kind of life could she have in the company of a
gruesome ghost? She deserved a real man, of warmth and flesh.
Not some bloody specter desperately trying to cling to the last
vestiges of his vanished life...
She would probably want to take his corpse with her, for
burial, he mused grimly. Something to remember him by...
He finally glanced at Akane then, and saw the tears in her
eyes, the shock, anger and grief filling her face as she looked
at him.
"Akane," he whispered anxiously, helplessly, the look on her
face filling him with a terrible, trembling ache. "Don't cry..."
He wanted so badly to put his arms around her. "Don't cry..."
She gave a short, violent shake of her head, unable to
speak, and silently mouthed "sorry" as the tears slipped down her
cheeks.
The sight of her tears was too much. Ranma turned on the
dragon angrily, choking on the burning in his throat, in his
eyes. He reached out violently for the front of the old man's
robe, but his fingers passed through ineffectually. "Dammit!" he
cried. "Old man... you *have* to help us!"
The old man shook his head somberly. "I cannot."
"Please" Akane pleaded hoarsely, wretched in her anguish.
Ranma looked back at her, and watched in dismay as she knelt and
bowed until she was almost prostrate, in the most humble
supplicating posture before the old man. She touched her
forehead to the ground, her long dark hair threading amidst the
trimmed grass. "There... there has to be something you can do,"
she said, her voice muffled and broken. "Please... I... I can't
lose him. Not now... not this way..."
Ranma looked at her, the terrible ache filling him to the
point where it almost sent him to his knees. "Akane..."
"Maybe... maybe my life," she whispered.
Ranma's eyes widened. "No!" he immediately protested.
"Maybe... you can use some of it," she continued. "Give
some to him..." She looked up at the old man, tears streaking
her face. "Anything, I'll do anything..."
The old man's piercing eyes were clouded as he looked at the
two of them; his smile long vanished from his ancient face,
replaced with an expression that was almost unreadable.
"Daughter of fire and ice," he whispered. "Your devotion to
this departed one is admirable. But the spark of life is
different and separate from the living ki it creates. The spark
that connects the spirit to the body is rare and unique for each
mortal. It is not something that can be shared, or simply
rekindled on a whim."
"Then what *can* you do, old man?" Ranma shouted. "You said
yourself that I paid your blood price! You owe me *something*!"
"I can remove from you the kuei curse that keeps you trapped
on this mountain in the image of your dead flesh," the old man
replied softly, his black eyes gleaming.
Ranma blinked, taken aback. The old guy could remove his
kuei curse? *Good, but not enough,* he was going to say...
"Ranma."
He looked over to where Akane knelt on the grass, and saw
her wet eyes growing wide with a desperate hope as she looked at
him. "If he... if he removed your curse... if you weren't
trapped here any more..."
Ranma closed his eyes, knowing what she was going to say.
"Akane..."
"You could come with me," she said tearfully. "We... could
still go home together."
Ranma sighed, and turned to her in helpless anger. "Dammit,
Akane, you know I can't do that."
"Why not?" she shouted, getting abruptly to her feet. "It's
better than nothing! It's better than losing you forever! Do
you *want* me to leave without you?"
"Of course not!" Ranma shouted back. "But you can't live
the rest of your life with a ghost! What kind of life is that?"
"Young ones," the old man interrupted, raising one long-
nailed hand in a gesture for silence. When Ranma and Akane
looked at him, his expression was solemn. "I am afraid that is
not possible," the old man said, the rushing sound behind his
voice a soft murmur.
Akane's eyes narrowed. "What's not possible?" she asked.
The old man regarded her with regret. "Once his soul is
released from the curse, he can no longer remain in the mortal
realm. He will be sent to the proper realm of jurisdiction,
under your gods. There, he will either meet with his ancestors
in the eternities, or be caught by the wind of reincarnation on
the banks of the river of death. Either way... you will not see
him again in this life."
Ranma and Akane absorbed that information, silent and
stricken.
Akane was numb. She felt exhausted, boneless. She didn't
even think she could cry any more.
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. When you fought so
hard for something, you were supposed to win. You were supposed
to come out on top. Not lose everything, and all hope in an
instant...
And then, something the Ancient One said penetrated through
the numbing fog of grief in her mind...
She looked up, realization flickering across her tear-
stained face. "Our... gods..." she whispered.
Ranma glanced at her. "What?"
Akane didn't answer. She was remembering her journey
through the Kami Plane. Two and a half years, following any
lead she could find, to a deity powerful enough to break the
blood spell...
She looked at the dragon. "Your gods might not be able or
willing to help us, but..." She turned to Ranma in her growing
excitement. "Emma-o," she said breathlessly. "The Judge and
Lord of the Dead. I never met him, because he doesn't live in
the Kami Plane. He lives in the realm of the Dead -- which is
where you'll go if you get the kuei curse removed."
Ranma looked at her doubtfully. New hope burned in his
chest at the thought that not all options were completely closed
to him, but he didn't dare show his eagerness just yet. "You
think he could..."
"You would have more luck seeking help from a stone," the
old man said bluntly, jarring the two from their sudden hopeful
euphoria. He looked at each of them in turn, the light within
his black eyes glittering intensely. "Emma-o is known throughout
the pantheons as a ruthless and unforgiving judge," he said
reproachfully. "Only those who require punishment are brought
before him. To seek him out willingly is madness."
Ranma was instantly in the old man's face, his nose scant
millimeters from the old man's as he glared into the glittering
void of his eyes. "Yeah," Ranma said, his voice quiet and
intense, "but could he do it? Is he one of the gods who can
reignite the spark of life? Could he really bring me back from
the dead?"
The old man stared at Ranma silently. Ranma met his black
gaze, determined and unflinching. Only the awareness of his own
incorporeal form kept him from reaching up and grabbing the old
man by the front of his robe, then shaking him until he answered.
"He could..." the old man said at last, reluctantly. "But
he won't."
Ranma looked back at Akane and saw his own ecstatic
expression reflected back at him in her face. A faint,
improbable hope was better than none. He turned back to the old
man, a familiar gleam of a challenge lighting his eyes. "I'll
take that chance," he said with a small grin. Finally, he felt
like he was back on solid footing, with a solid goal before him.
"'Cause if he can do it, I'm gonna find him and make him send me
back."
"Fool," the old man groaned, frustration creasing his face
and making him appear even older. "If you go before Emma-o
unsummoned, you risk the hells, or worse."
"The... hells?" At the hesitant sound of her voice, Ranma
turned to Akane to see all of the enthusiasm drain out of her, to
be replaced by fear.
"Aw, Akane, don't worry about that." Ranma grinned. "I'll
be diplomatic."
"No," Akane said with a shake of her head. "Maybe this
isn't such a good idea. If you go before Emma-o, and... and
something happens..."
"Akane, nothing's gonna happen--"
"You don't know that!" she snapped. "Look at us! Look at
*you!*" She gestured sharply at his bloody, ghostly form with one
hand. "Did you plan on this? Has *anything* turned out like we
wanted it to so far?"
Ranma frowned. "Okay, so maybe things haven't gone quite
like we planned! Do you want to just give up now? You just want
me to wander off into the afterlife without a fight, when there's
a chance this could work?"
"Better that, than having you end up in one of the hells
forever," she yelled.
Ranma looked at her incredulously. "I can't believe you're
saying that. You want to give up just because of the off-chance
that this Emma-o guy might be in a bad mood? You were all
excited about the idea just a second ago."
"I... I was grasping at straws, I was scared, and I
forgot..." Akane closed her eyes, struggling to regain her
composure. "You don't know these gods like I do. They banished
one of their own to the hells just because he tried to help me
escape the Kami plane." *Or at least, they tried,* she thought,
remembering Susa-no-o wearing Hoso-no-kami's skin. And then
another realization struck her, like an icy fist to her gut. "If
Emma-o is in charge of the hells," she said hoarsely, "he... he
must be on the Council..."
"He is." The old man nodded slightly in affirmation.
Akane went pale.
"What?" Ranma looked back and forth between the two.
"What's the 'Council?'"
"A fickle assembly of Japanese deities," the old man replied
with no small amount of condescension, "ruled more by whim and
politics than by logic and compassion."
Akane didn't like the old man's tone, but she couldn't
exactly disagree. She wanted to say that Susa-no-o wasn't like
that... but then, he wasn't on the Council.
Ranma scowled. "Look, Council or no Council, I'm going to
face Emma-o and get my life back."
Akane's face clouded over with fear and anger, and her brown
eyes glistened. "But... if you don't come back..."
"I *will* come back," he insisted. She opened her mouth to
protest again, but he silenced her by reaching out. He stopped
just short of touching her cheek with his bloodied, intangible
hand. He ached to brush his fingers against her skin, but he
held himself just scant millimeters away, then leaned forward to
whisper into her ear.
"I promise," he said softly. "I won't be satisfied with
death. If it means risking the hells... then I will risk the
hells to come back to you."
Akane's eyes widened, then shimmered as she pressed the
fingers of both hands to her lips. "Oh, Ranma..." He was being
an idiot. But that was by far the most romantic thing he had
ever said to her. His words, and the look in his blue eyes set
her skin to tingling; her blood rushing. And, for a moment, she
believed him.
The old man sighed. "It is foolish to make promises you
can't keep, boy."
Ranma scowled at the old man. "You keep out of this." He
turned back to face Akane, and the look on her face made him want
to melt. "Do you trust me?"
Akane looked into his face. She looked past his gray-
skinned, blood-flecked features, and into his blue eyes that were
still bright and alive -- the only part of him that, as yet,
remained untouched by his kuei curse. She wanted to trust him.
She wanted to believe he could do anything. Even face down Emma-
o. Even come back from the dead.
"I do," she said, though she feared it was a lie. "I know
you'll come back. Because if you don't..." She leaned forward
to whisper in his ear. "Then I'll track you down no matter what
plane of existence you're in, and find out the reason why, Ranma
Saotome."
Ranma pulled back and looked at her in blinking surprise.
Then he grinned.
"Fools," the old man muttered again.
"Nobody's askin' for your opinion," Ranma said irritably.
"You just do your dragon thingy and lift this curse like you said
you would."
The old man's eyes flashed in his expressionless face. "As
you wish then," he said quietly, and he closed his eyes.
Akane's eyes widened in alarm as the old man raised his
arms. "Wait," she said, because it was too soon--
The old man exploded in a flash of silver and green, and
Akane cried out and shielded her face with her arms as a
tremendous wind thrashed around her. The valley screamed with
the sudden surge of power, as if resentful of having its peace
broken. The flowers and willow trees near the pond whipped about
violently, spilling their leaves and petals out onto the tempest
the tranquil water had become...
Ranma instinctively shielded his face with his arms against
the onslaught, until he realized he couldn't feel anything. He
uncovered his face and looked up...
...and up, and up...
Ranma swallowed hard, and idly wondered if it had been such
a great idea to smart off to the old man... er... dragon...
The wind died abruptly, and in its absence, the trees and
water became almost instantly still. Beside him, he heard
Akane's small gasp as she followed his gaze.
The Ancient One filled the sky, his massive sea-green-scaled
body coiling in a tangle of gleaming, chaotic loops. The
dragon's forelegs and hind legs were almost lost amidst the
coils, but for the five long ebony claws that adorned each foot.
Blood-red eyes, each the size of a house, gazed down at the two
gaping, minuscule humans from within a huge, silver-maned head.
The dragon dipped his gargantuan head gracefully from the
sky, sliding silently through the air until he faced Ranma
directly.
Ranma forced himself not to step back in the face of this
mythic beast that made the eight-headed serpent from Ryuganzawa
look like a regular garden snake.
"*Infant kuei,*" the dragon breathed, and his breath
shimmered hot and gold, like liquid fire.
Ranma gasped, wide-eyed, as he felt the dragon's breath pass
through him. He couldn't move. He stood, immobile, his limbs
outstretched as if caught in mid-convulse. The Ancient One's
breath burned through him, devouring the cold numbness that had
engulfed him since his death...
"Wait," he heard Akane cry, but her voice seemed so distant.
He wanted to turn to her, to tell her it was okay, but he
couldn't move, couldn't speak as the fire burned through him...
"Wait, please...!"
"*I remove your curse from you.*" Another breath; searing
white gold. Ranma bit back a scream; but not of pain, not of
joy. Just a scream, for the sake of feeling; but by his will, it
emerged silent from his lips...
"Please..." Ranma couldn't tell if Akane was talking to
him, or to the dragon. "Please, just let me say goodbye..."
And he could feel the wound close inside him, could no
longer taste the blood in his mouth...
"*Go, now, to your place of eternal rest.*"
The liquid fire bled from his limbs, out his fingers and the
soles of his feet, and suddenly he could move again. He turned
to Akane, even as it seemed that he was moving away from her...
"Akane..." he called, and his own voice was loud in his ears.
He was moving without moving, and she was running after him,
her hands outstretched. But even as she ran towards him, she
seemed to fade away from before his eyes, as if a thick veil of
mist had risen between them. "Ranma," she called, her voice
dwindling. "Ranma, I love you..."
"Akane!" He tried to move towards her but the gesture meant
nothing as the mists thickened before him. "I'll come back, I
swear..."
And then, he heard the sound of rushing water behind him,
and he turned...
Akane cried out as Ranma vanished from her view,
disappearing into the river of stars. She called after him,
once... twice...
No answer.
"*He is gone,*" the Ancient One said, his soft, rushing
voice filling the sky.
As if she needed him to tell her that. She knew that Ranma
was gone. The whole feel of him was gone, and she only then
realized that, until that moment, she had been filled with the
comforting sense of Ranma's presence...
It was gone.
"You bastard." Akane glared up at him with wet, stinging
eyes. "I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye."
The dragon slid towards her in the air, blinking his huge,
scarlet eyes at her. "*There are many mortals in this world,*"
he murmured, "*who would give up everything they own for the
opportunity to be with their departed loved ones that you have
had this night.*"
Akane looked at the ground, shame burning her throat. The
Ancient One was right. She should be grateful that she had the
chance to see Ranma; to speak with him. If it weren't for his
kuei curse... she would have been alone on the mountain. Her
search would have ended when she discovered his cooling corpse on
the bloody mountain path...
Almost automatically, her gaze was drawn to where Ranma's
body lay on the grass, not far from the pearl and silk-lined
entrance to the cave below. Slowly, she walked over to it, knelt
next to it, looked into the pale, lifeless face...
...and felt nothing. She shivered. How could she have ever
thought this empty shell was Ranma? Everything that was Ranma
was gone.
"Where is he?" she whispered.
She felt rather than saw the Ancient One ripple his coils
through the night sky above her. "*He now stands on the banks of
the river of death. Two paths are open before him. The path he
chooses will determine whether or not you will be with him again
in the next world.*"
Akane closed her eyes and clenched her fists. "I'll be with
him in *this* world," she said. She tried to sound defiant, but
it came out sounding hopelessly weary. "He promised."
The Ancient One was silent.
Slowly, carefully, Akane reached out and pulled Ranma's body
to her, cradling it in her arms once again.
It was time to leave. There were people waiting for her at
the base of the mountain, she knew. Nabiki, and her friends.
They had come on this insane expedition to help Ranma save her.
It seemed almost strange to think of them now, after finding
Ranma, and then losing him again.
"*There are those waiting for you,*" the Ancient One said,
as if knowing her thoughts. "*I will send you to them.*"
She looked down at Ranma's cold, slack face. "How in the
world," she wondered aloud, "am I going to explain this to them?"
The only answer she received was a blast of wind that
suddenly engulfed her in a small cyclone, lifting her long hair
to the sky in the updraft, and she clutched Ranma's body to her
chest, squinting against the wind...
...and then she was in a clearing, surrounded by a thick,
dark forest. A campfire crackled in the middle of the clearing.
She blinked a little, her eyes tearing from the wind even as it
abruptly died, plunging her into a deep, oppressive silence. She
looked around...
...and saw Ukyo, bound to a tree, a gag wrapped tightly
around her head. Mousse, in duck form, and... P-Chan?... tied up
and dangling upside down from the branches of a tree. Cologne,
sitting near the fire.
Staring at her. They were all staring at her. And the body
in her arms.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Nobody made a sound.
Except Akane.
"Excuse me," she said, taking a deep breath that was almost
calm. "What the hell is going on here?"
--------------------
End of Part Twenty-Three
(
geocities.com/tokyo/towers) (
geocities.com/tokyo)