Part 2
RYOGA
Love, I get so lost, sometimes-
Days pass and this emptiness fill my heart-
When I want to run away-
I drive off in my car-
But whichever way I go-
I come back to the place you are.
All my instincts, they return-
And the grand facade, so soon will burn-
Without a noise, without my pride-
I reach out from the inside.
In your eyes
The light, the heat-
In your eyes
I am complete-
In your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches-
In your eyes
The resolution of all the fruitless searches-
In your eyes
I see the light and heat-
In your eyes
Oh, I want to be that complete-
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your eyes.
Love, I don't like to see so much pain-
So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away-
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival-
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive.
All my instincts, they return-
And the grand facade, so soon will burn-
Without a noise, without my pride-
I reach out from the inside.
In your eyes
The light, the heat-
In your eyes
I am complete-
In your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches-
In your eyes
The resolution of all the fruitless searches-
In your eyes
I see the light and heat-
In your eyes
Oh, I want to be that complete-
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your eyes.
In your eyes In your eyes
In your eyes In your eyes
In your eyes In your eyes
Peter Gabriel -"In Your Eyes"
Three months later.
Ryoga laced his fingers beneath his head as he stared up at the
ceiling of the room he 'shared' with the Sensei, Shibata having yet to
sleep in it, dozing off in front of the TV instead, unable to sleep.
He was trying to pin down the exact moment he had fallen in love
with Haiku and found that he couldn't. He had just found her more and
more in his thoughts, found himself wanting to be with her more and
more.
It hadn't been a headfirst fall, as with Akane, but more of a gentle
drift. He wasn't sure when she had replaced Akane in his dreams, but she
had, and with a vengeance. And the demands of his body where the cause
of his sleepless state.
Haiku had had to come and get him again. She had come up with a
simple solution to his directional problem by getting him a calling card
and herself a beeper. Whenever he found himself lost, he found the
nearest phone and called her and she came and got him.
The first few times he had to call he had been really embarrassed,
but she truly didn't seem to mind, telling him it gave her a chance to
explore some of the city she wouldn't have gone to otherwise.
The memory of her body pressed against his, the cold wind blowing
the scent of her perfume back to him as they sped home wouldn't let him
sleep. He decided he needed to get up. Maybe he would go down to the
dojo and work a little. That always seemed to help.
He had just passed the sofa of the darkened living room, the TV
throwing a flickering illumination, Shibata asleep in front of it, when
the gleam of light from Hiku's studio door, standing a little ajar,
caught his eye. He changed his trajectory, heading for the light and
Haiku, like a moth drawn to a flame.
She was painting again, half perched on a high stool in front of her
easel, one brush between her teeth, one busy on the canvas. He opened
the door enough to step in, knowing her concentration was so focused
when she worked that he wouldn't disturb her. His gaze wandered around
the walls, taking in the other paintings, as fascinated by them now as
he had been the first time he had seen them.
There were five so far, each one a portrait, but not the usual
ridged postures, more like snapshots, and each rich in the details of a
different time. He had asked her about them the first time he had come
in. There had been only three then. She had smiled and led him to each
one, and introduced him as if they where real people.
The first was a woman in Roman costume, sitting behind an intrically
carved desk, a book open under her hands, head thrown back in laughter.
Her name was Helena.
The second was a European knight with a gentle face, standing
watering a horse, a red cross against the white tabard that covered his
armor. That was Paul, and he was a Knight Hospitaller.
Seti was next, an ancient Egyptian dressed as a king, hands on hips
and one eyebrow raised, a look of inquiry on his face.
Robert had appeared next. He was standing on a windswept plain of
heather, his kilt and red hair blowing in the wind, the curve of a harp
visible above one shoulder. He had one hand resting on the cross piece
of a long sword almost as tall as himself, point on the ground between
his feet, the forearm of the other balanced against the pommel, chin
resting on it, lips quirked in a smile and an amused gleam sparkling
from his robin-egg blue eyes. He was a Highlander.
Then came Ayisha, a dark skinned beauty in a simply woven blue dress
sitting sedately on the stairs of an ornately decorated mud-brick
temple, head tipped up to look into sky. She was from Sumaria.
He crossed the room to stand behind her, studying the figure taking
shape under her brush. This one was going to be a Samurai, leaning back
against the shoulder of his horse, fanning himself with a large fan
which had the rough figure of a dragon sketched across it.
"Can't sleep?" She asks, putting down the palate and brushes, then
reaching up to rub at her shoulders.
He takes the final two steps to her and begins to rub her shoulders
before he quite realizes what he's doing.
"Who's this going to be?" He asks, her long hair tickling the backs
of his hands.
"Hiroshi. He was a seventeenth century Samurai. Hmm, that's nice."
She hums, leaning back a little, her muscles relaxing under his fingers,
his touch awakening in her the longing need she felt for him.
She knew exactly the moment she had fallen under his spell. It was
the first time she had heard him laugh. She had been struggling over her
computer homework, the computer resisting her every attempt to run the
program she had been assigned to write
.
"Stupid thing!" She had hissed at the machine. She considered
chewing the obnoxious little box up and then flushing it's little pieces
down the toilet. She told it so, describing it's execution to it in
great detail, not realizing Ryoga was standing in the doorway. She
whirled as he started laughing, angry. But his laughter was so
infectious she couldn't resist it and soon she was giggling along with
him. He didn't laugh nearly enough.
He stopped suddenly and removed his hands, but not before she
detects the little shake in them. She turns herself around on the stool
to gaze up him and he leans down, brushing her lips with a gentle kiss.
He steps back quickly, head down and hands clenched at his side.
"I'm sorry, that shouldn't have happened." He whispers.
"Why not?" She responds, sliding off the stool and stepping in to
close the distance between them again. She takes his closed fists into
her hands. "I've been waiting for it for a long time."
"You have?" He whispers to her, stunned.
"Why does that surprise you so much?" She queries.
He frowns a little, forehead wrinkling as he tries to formulate a
response for her question.
"It's just, I thought you wouldn't be interested in a guy like me."
"Why not?" She replies, placing his arms around her waist.
"I thought you'd want someone...closer to your own age." He tells
her, finally putting his finger on one of the many things about her that
puzzled him. She seemed so much older than she looked.
She sighs, leans her head onto his chest so he can't see the smile
there. (There is no one closer to my own age.)
"Does age make such a difference to you, Ryoga?" She asks gently,
the smile disappearing as she finds she is fearing his response.
He tightens his arms around her, pulling her closer. "No. It doesn't
matter at all."
"Good." She says as she tips her face up to him and stands on her
tiptoes to kiss him, this time properly.
He seems to melt against her, then breaks the kiss suddenly and
steps back, his face closed and hard.
"What?" She demands, frustrated that he has shut himself off from
her again.
"There's something I have to show you."
"O.K." She responds cautiously.
"In the bathroom."
She follows him to her room, wondering what was bothering him so
much. She noticed that Shibata was not as asleep as he appeared.
"Go to bed." She whispers to him as they pass.
The Sensei opened one eye and grinned at her as they passed.
(Finally! That boy was as dense as a stone, sometimes.)
In the bathroom, Ryoga pulls the soft golden brown sweater she had
bought for him over his head, hands it to her, then the T-shirt under
that.
She folds them as he turns on the shower in the little stall next to
the large tiled tub. She watches him, noticing that his training with
Shibata had returned most of the muscle to his frame, go to the sink to
fill the large wash basin with cold water, then take it and set it next
to the drain in the center of the floor.
He stands with his back to her, stepping out of his pants and
briefs. He throws them into the corner, stands for a moment, his skin
tightening in the cool air, then leans down and upends the basin over
his head.
She just stares as his form shrinks in on itself. A little black pig
turns to look at her, it's ears lowered in distress. She blinks at him a
few times, her face a study in surprise.
The little pig sighs, then turns, moving the curtain aside with it's
snout and scrambles over the small lip of the shower enclosure.
(Well, she didn't scream, faint or run away.) Ryoga thinks as he
returns to his real shape. (That's a good sign. But again, she could
just be in shock.) He turns off the shower and stands, shivering and
cold, not wanting to open the curtain, afraid she'd be gone, afraid
she'd still be there.
She hands him a towel as he opens the curtain, eyebrows raised in an
unspoken question.
"I'm cursed." He states in an emotionless voice.
"Well, it's not too bad, as curses go." She answers with a smile.
He gazes past her, into the mirror. "What could be worse?" He asks,
more of himself than her.
"Having to live forever, for one." She responds lightly.
"Come on." She takes his hand and pulls him into the bedroom,
pushing him down to sit on the bed. "Let's get you into something warm
before you freeze to death."
"It doesn't bother you?" He asks, trying to figure her easy
acceptance of what he had just done as she goes to pull the robe he had
worn the first day he had awakened in her bed out of the armoire.
"What, that you're a shape-shifter?" She responds, bringing it to
him.
He nods, wrapping the soft fabric around himself, it starting to
warm his body but not his soul. She steps out of his sight into the
bathroom.
"It surprised me, yes. Bothers me, no." She tells him, her voice
echoing a little off the tiles. She comes back out, wearing only a large
towel. It covers her from armpit to calf, and he can see part of a
larger tattoo covering her left shoulder.
He rises from the bed, flustered.
"Sit down, Ryoga." She tells him firmly.
He does, keeping his eyes on the back of his knuckles.
"You shared your secret with me, let me share my secret with you."
He keeps his eyes down.
"Ryoga, look at me." She whispers softly.
He raises his eyes as she shimmers with a golden light, her body
stretching out and reforming. He sits, slack jawed and deathly still as
the golden colored dragon tilts it's head slightly to the right and
returns his stare with Hiku's amber eyes. His eyes flick up and down the
length of it's body (maybe eighteen feet from nose to tail) one part of
his brain informs him, then another parts adds (I don't believe this!)
"Haiku?" He whispers.
The dragon nods, then with another glow of light reforms into a
shape he's more familiar with. She stands naked in front of him, the
dragon tattoo that flows around her body a smaller version of her
reality. She retrieves the towel and winds it back around her herself.
"You're cursed too?" He gulps, his expression one of stunned
amazement. (It couldn't be Jusenkyou, she didn't need water to change.)
"Yes, but not in the manner you believe. The Dragon is what I am."
She answers him.
She can tell by his expression that he doesn't understand what she's
trying to tell him.
She sits next to him, breathes a silent sigh of relief when he
doesn't pull away from her. This was always the hardest part.
"This is your true form." She reaches up to touch his chest. "The
pig is the one you take." She moves her hand to her own chest. "This is
the shape I take. The Dragon is my true form."
She watches him think that over.
"You're a Dragon?" He asks, as if trying to accept that fact.
She nods.
They sit side by side, both staring in front of them at nothing.
Haiku waiting, Ryoga thinking.
"You're a Dragon." He states, as if he has accepted that fact.
"Just a little one." She tells him in a small voice.
That causes him to laugh and she flashes him a shy smile.
"Does it bother you?" She asks, dreading his answer.
"No." He tells her, realizing it truly didn't.
"Good." She responds, then moves her hand so it rests over his own.
"Because I have another secret to share with you."
He looks at her a little anxiously. "I hope it's not as dramatic as
the last one."
"This Dragon has loved you for some time now." She tells him,
holding his gaze with her own.
He moves his hand to entwine his fingers with her own.
"Haiku." Is all he says. It is all he needs to say.
He leans to cover her mouth with his own.
"Found her!" Shin grinned as he came into the office, waving a file
folder at his partner in one hand.
Yamada looked up at him from behind the desk, thinking that his
partner was far to enthusiastic for six o'clock in the morning. He must
be getting old.
"Where?" He growls, hoping it wasn't another false trail.
"She's been under our noses the whole time!" The young man crows.
"She's in Tokyo?" Yamada frowns, thinking of all the fruitless
searching, Tamura getting more and more impatient with each failed lead.
"It's a positive I.D.?" Yamada queries.
"Yep. I staked her out personally, just to make sure. It's her. Got
to be. Looks just like the portrait." He tells him as Yamada flips
through the photographs, pausing to stare at a close-up of the woman
they've been hunting for so long.
He closes the file, motions for Shin to follow him and heads up the
hall to Tamura's office.
"Who is this?" Tamura asks, his eyes hard as he pulls one of the
photos out of the docket, turns it so that the two men in front of him
can see it.
It is a picture of a young man riding behind the woman on the
motorcycle, his arms around her in a tight grip as the bike is at about
thirty-five degrees off the ground, a huge smile on his face.
"Hibiki Ryoga." Shin responds. "He is a student studying with the
old Sensei at the dojo in her house."
"More than a student, I think." He mutters, his expression dark.
"Get the men ready, then bring the car." He growls.
The two men bow themselves out.
Haiku sighed contentedly, cuddled into the tight circle of Ryoga's
arms, his body warm and relaxed against her. She had reveled in the
knowledge that she had been his first, and had taken great delight in
helping him discover the joys of his body and her own.
She was watching the ray of sunshine streaming from the window make
it's way across the floor toward the bed as she waited for him to wake.
Suddenly there was someone standing against the light.
(Haiku-chan! You must leave this place! Now!)
"Hiroshi?" She whispers, blinking against the sunlight, but he is
gone, leaving a growing unease in his passing.
She sits up, her head cocked, listening, but hears nothing.
"Ryoga." She shakes him gently.
He smiles, then opens his eyes. His smile changes into a frown as he
sees the tension on her features.
"What?"
"Get up. We've got to get out of here."
"Why?" He asks groggily as she pushes at him, then exits the bed on
the other side, going to the armoire and pulling out clothing.
"Hurry!" She hisses.
"What's wrong, Haiku?" He asks as he buckles the belt of his pants.
She shakes her head at him, not sure as she pulls the sweater over
her head. Then she realizes what it is, the gentle murmur of the TV is
missing.
"Shibata!" She whispers, heading for the door, dread filling her.
The door to the bedroom flies open before she makes two steps, a man
flanked by two others stepping in to fill the doorway.
"Who the hell are you?" Ryoga snarls, seeing Haiku stop dead in her
tracks, a look of fear on her face.
The man stares at him, taking in his half-dressed state, a look of
fury coming onto his handsome features. He makes a small gesture with
one hand. One of the men behind him raises a gun.
Ryoga is spun around from the force of the impact, but he stays on
his feet, his hand coming up to cover the dart sticking out of his left
shoulder.
"Ryoga!" Haiku screams, her voice changing into a bell like roar as
he sees her leap, her body lengthening into it's true form, as the drug
begins to course through his body causing him to sink to his knees.
"No!" He screams in return as the two flanking the man empty their
clips of darts into Hiku's body.
She lands limp, her head only a few feet from his knees as his eyes
follows her down, able to do anything but watch, trying to fight the
drug.
Haiku twitches feebly and hisses as the man parts the two before him
with a touch to their shoulders and comes to kneel down by her head. The
man strokes her neck with a gentle hand, the look on his face one of
reverence and awe.
(Don't touch her, you bastard!) Ryoga screams at the man in his
mind, that being the only part of him that was still under his control.
He sits back onto his heels and stares at Ryoga, who is swaying back
and forth as his balance begins to fail him, then snaps his fingers.
Another comes to him, presents the flat, intrically carved wooden box
that he is carrying. The man opens the box, takes out a lavender jade
collar.
Haiku moans pitifully as he secures it around her neck, causing a
tight fist to squeeze around Ryoga's heart.
"You will change back into your human form now, Haiku." The man
tells her gently.
The drug finally overcomes Ryoga's will and he slides down into
unconsciousness as Haiku shimmers back to lie naked under the mans gaze.
Ryoga comes to, woozy and being dragged by two men, their hands
supporting him under his armpits. He has some recollection of being on a
plane, Hiku's pale face across from him. He struggles a little, trying
to get his feet under him, realizes that his hands are bound behind him
and there is a piece of tape over his mouth.
The two carrying him give him a rough shake, one saying, "settle
down!" in a harsh voice.
He relaxes, letting them continue to drag him as he tries to get his
bearings. He is in the middle of a group of heavily armed men following
a path through an old growth forest, the warmth and humidity telling him
he wasn't in Japan anymore. He catches a glimpse of Haiku walking beside
The Man docilely, head down, he leading her by the hand.
He goes berserk, tossing off the two dragging him. He almost reaches
Haiku when something slams into the back of his head, sending him
crashing to the ground, senses reeling. One of the men kicks him over
onto his back, cocks his gun and places it against his chest.
"Do something like that again and I'll put a bullet through you,
orders or not. Understand?"
Ryoga glares but nods. He is picked back up and dragged stumbling
along again. After about ten more minutes the group stops, fanning out.
The man's two bodyguards come and take custody of him, one holding each
arm and bringing him with them as they follow the man and Haiku.
They step out from under the canopy into a grassy grove full of
wildflowers walled off from the surrounding forest by a perfectly
circular ring of trees. The two stop a little ways inside and push Ryoga
to his knees.
The man guides Haiku to the center of the grove. "Where is he?" He
asks, turning them both in a tight circle, looking at the trees.
"He does not sleep here." Haiku responds in an emotionless voice.
"What do you mean?" The man asks.
"He is not here." Haiku replies.
"Why?" The man asks, eyes narrowing.
"I did not love him." She responds.
"You took his body, there where witnesses! And you bring all of your
lovers here. Chiba wrote all of your secrets down in his book." He tells
her.
"Yes, I took his body." She responds.
"Well, where is he, then!" He snarls.
Haiku doesn't say anything.
"Answer me." He commands.
"I cut him into little pieces and then scattered him to the four
corners of the earth." She replies, her tone flat. "I had no desire for
Chiba's company, so I made sure his ghost would wander lost forever,
always searching but unable to find me."
The younger of the pair holding Ryoga gasps.
The man trembles in rage.
"You lie!" He hisses as he back-hands her, the force of his strike
spinning her around once before she collapses to the ground.
Ryoga bellows from behind the tape, makes it to his feet before the
older of the pair hits a nerve cluster in his shoulder, putting him back
down to his knees, body numb.
The man turns in a slow circle again, glaring at the trees. Haiku
pushes herself up to sit huddled, raises her head, her eyes meeting
Ryoga's. Her lips form the words "I love you" as the mans back is turned
to them.
The younger of the pair frowns as he sees this, a troubled look
coming into his eyes.
Ryoga drops his head, looking deep within himself, trying to focus
the power of his chi. He throws back his head in anguish as it refuses
to come to him, the effects of the drug still muddling his
concentration.
The man looks down at her, then takes a deep breath, getting himself
back under control. He reaches down, takes her hand and pulls her to her
feet, reaches out to touch the red mark his hand has left on her face
with gentle fingers.
"You lied, Haiku. You shouldn't be able to do that with the collar
on. But it doesn't matter. You'll tell me eventually." He tells her as
he leads her by the hand to Ryoga.
He stops in front of him and takes his chin into his hand. Ryoga
jerks his head away, then groans as the older of the two knees him in
the ribs, hard. The man places his hand under his chin again and raises
his head, studying his face.
"Maybe when you tell me, I'll let you come back and bury the body of
this one."
"N..."
"You will not speak until I give you permission to do so." He
interrupts without looking from Ryoga's face.
The word dies unfinished in Haiku's throat.
"She is mine, Hibiki Ryoga." The man whispers to him with a small
smile.
"Kill him." He tells the younger of the pair. "Yamada, come with me.
A young man's first execution should be a private thing."
The older one bows deeply, coming to take up his position at
Tamura's left shoulder.
Tamura takes a step, then is pulled back as Haiku doesn't move, staring
into Ryoga's eyes.
"You will come with me." The man growls, emphasizing the 'will' and
pulls her forwards. Her body obeys him.
Shin waits until they have passed from sight between the trees. He
pulls his gun from his holster and places it against Ryoga's temple.
Ryoga closes his eyes, waiting for him to do it, a part of him wanting
him to do it. The trees ringing them start to rustle in a wind he
couldn't feel and Shin shudders.
(This just wasn't right. But his Father would kill him if he
didn't.) His finger starts to tighten on the trigger, then relaxes. He
brings the barrel of the gun to clip Ryoga's skull, sending him to the
ground unconscious, then fires a shot into the ground next to him. He
pulls the knife out of his boot and drops it within reach of his victim,
then strides out to join the waiting knot of men.
"Wake up!" A voice bellows in his ear.
Ryoga winces, jerking his head away from the sound. He raises his
head a little as he opens his eyes to see the strangely familiar face of
a man squatting next to him. He focuses and realizes that the man is
dressed as an ancient Egyptian king.
(Seti?) He thinks. Then drops his head back down into the soft
grass. (He shot me and I'm not dead yet. Just brain damaged and dying.)
He closes his eyes, waiting.
"Mon Dios! The boys going to die on us!" He hears another voice.
"Not yet." A female voice answers the male one. A breeze ruffles his
unruly bangs, feeling like a gentle caress. "He still has a lot to
accomplish before he comes to us."
"I thought we weren't allowed to look into the future, Helena." A
different male voice answered, this one heavily accented with a Scottish
burr.
(I thought there was supposed to be a white light or something.)
"Desperate times call for desperate measures." The female voice
answers.
The Scottish burr makes a disgusted sound then his voice is close,
hissing into his ear. "Listen to me, boyo, you'd better be wakin' up
now, or you'll be condemning Haiku, an' the rest o' us, to a lifetime or
more of hell."
(Haiku.) That reaches him.
"Help Haiku!" Other voices whisper around him, over and over,
insistent.
He rolls over onto his stomach, the voices urging him on, and gets
his knees under him and sits up. He keeps his eyes closed as he waits
for the world to stop spinning, then opens them onto the faintly moonlit
darkness of the grove. There are figures clustered around him.
"Who are you?" He asks, squinting into the dark. The fine hairs on
his body rise as he realizes that each one is glowing with a dim light.
The Egyptian king lean down close. "We're Haiku's ghosts, who else."
He states.
Ryoga backs away from him as fast as he can on his knees as he
realizes he can see the trees through the Egyptian's shape.
"Seti, you're scaring him out of his wits."
Ryoga whips his head around to stare at the Roman woman from the
painting. She smiles at him. He gulps, closes his eyes again.
(I've got a massive head injury and am hallucinating.) He tells
himself.
"Ryoga, it doesn't matter whether you believe in us or not. Just
listen to us. There is a knife fourteen inches from your left foot. Use
it to release yourself." Helena tells him.
He turns his head to look and sees the blade glistening against the
grass in the moonlight. He maneuvers himself to it. The ghosts watch,
silent. It takes several tries before he gets it into the right
position, his hands numb from the tightness of the rope binding them. He
finally saws through it and brings his arms around in front of him,
rubbing at his wrists, hissing as the painful tingle of returning
circulation rushes through his fingers.
"Let me talk to him." He hears Helena tell the others. All the
figures wink out except one. Helena comes to sit cross-legged in front
of him.
"Ryoga. I know this is hard for you to understand or accept. Haiku
would have told you about us when you where ready to hear it, but that
luxury is gone now. You know what she is?"
Ryoga nods.
"Do you love her?"
"Yes!" He answers, his voice full of anguish. The trees around him
rustle in response.
"As do we all. When you agree to love the Dragon, your spirit is
bound to it forever."
Ryoga frowns, not sure he likes the direction this is going.
"If the Dragon loves you in return, her spirit is bound to yours."
The ghost continues.
"So she sees you all the time?" He asks, wondering if the ghosts
where with them last night.
Helena shakes her head. "Most of the time, no. Only when we are
needed does she see us."
That eases his mind a little. "So, how come I can see you?"
"You are her lover now." Helena gives him a gentle smile as he
blushes. "Haiku is in serious trouble and you need us to help you, so
you are able to see us."
"O.K." Ryoga says, thinking that he'll deal with the other stuff
later. What was important now was to rescue Haiku. "So, who is that guy
and what did he do to her?"
"It is my story, Helena. I should be the one to tell it." A deep
voice booms from behind him.
He whirls to see the form of a man in Samurai armor appear out of
the air.
"She can not see me. That damned 'thing' will not let me close. She
is mourning for her new lost one, who is still very much alive, I see."
The Samurai addresses his comment to the trees around him, then bows to
Ryoga. "I am Ikeda Hiroshi."
"Hibiki Ryoga." He bows back.
Hiroshi settles into seiza in front of him, Helena a glow to his
left. The Samurai looks him up and down and hurumphs.
"My time with the Dragon was short." He glares at Ryoga. "But
sweet." He relents under Helena's withering stare.
"Hiroshi was Haiku's last lover." Helena whispers to him.
"A man came. His name was Kobayashi Chiba. He was, among other
things, a sorcerer. The gods alone know how he learned of Haiku. But he
did. And he came hunting her.
Guns where a new thing then. Had I known that he had one, I might
have reacted differently when he found us." He sighs, his face sad, then
continues. "He shot us both. I died, Haiku, being what she is, did not,
and he knew she would not. And he had created a thing to enslave her
with his foul magic's."
"The collar." Ryoga whispers.
"Hai, the collar. He took her and started a child in her womb,
keeping it there with his sorcery." He hisses angrily.
"She hovered on the brink of death throughout that whole time,
unable to die, his magic keeping us at bay, unable even to offer her
comfort." The ghost wind whips through the trees, making them moan.
Ryoga closes his eyes, the thought of Haiku in such pain torture.
"But he got what he wanted." Hiroshi continues. "A child of the
Dragon. Then, he fell in love with her, keeping her at his side always.
As he lay dying, he pitied her finally, and released her. She had no
such pity on him." He grins wolfishly. "She scattered his remains,
damning him to eternal wandering. Then she brought me back here, for
both of us to sleep. And heal. Now, the Kobayashi bloodline is thinning
and this Child of the Dragon is planning on replenishing it."
"Never!" Ryoga growls. "Not while I'm still alive." He would tear
the bastard apart with his bare hands as soon as he found him. But that
would take time and he wasn't even sure where he was. But the ghosts
did.
"Help me." He bows to Hiroshi and Helena and then to the trees in
the grove.
"We will, Ryoga." Helena answers. "But there is something you must
do to allow us to help you."
"What." (Anything.)
"As I said, we are bound to the Dragon. And to this place, where our
bodies lie. We can be only here or where she is, unless you let us bind
ourselves to you also."
"You want to possess me?" He gulps, his eyes widening in horror.
"Not really. We would be with you, connected to your spirit, but
your mind and body would remain your own. Each of us will swear to it,
and the oaths of the dead cannot be broken." She tries to reassure him.
"When we have accomplished our task, you will return here and
release us back into the grove." Hiroshi tells him.
"How many of you are there?" He asks, trying to convince himself
that this was a good idea.
"Sixteen." Hiroshi answers.
"I'll have sixteen of you running around inside me?" His soul and
body tighten in terror at that thought.
Helena throws back her head and laughs, just like in the painting.
Hiroshi crosses his arms across his broad chest, sighs with exaggerated
patience.
"No. Just those of us that have skills you might require." She
answers.
"Which ones?" Ryoga demands.
Helena turns serious, her head cocked listening to the leaves in the
wind. "Wait, while it is decided. Those who would go with you will
appear before their tree. You must reach through their hearts until you
place your hand onto the bark." She tells him, then both she and the
Samurai wink out.
He sits, resting his head against his knees, his hands clasped
loosely in front of his shins, waiting as the trees rustle back and
forth, their leaves whispering to each other. Then the grove is eerily
still. He lifts his head, scanning the circle. He takes a deep breath,
steeling himself, then rises and goes to the figure standing before a
tree to his right. Helena smiles at him and nods.
"I am Helena Arilious. I was the Dragons eighth love. I was a
scholar." Ryoga closes his eyes as he reaches through her chest,
expecting some resistance and is somewhat startled as his palm touches
the rough bark. A tingle starts at his fingertips and travels up his arm
and into his body. He grits his teeth as it swirls around in his solar
plexus, then dissipates. He can feel a presence with him, but it is
silent and withdrawn.
The next figure appears and he goes to it.
"I am Robert of the clan of Duncan. I was the Dragons tenth love. I
was a scoundrel and a thief and a singer of songs."
They smile at each other as Ryoga extends his hand.
(That it?) He thinks as no other ghosts appear.
Then his head turns as one more figure appears before a tree. He
goes to it. It is a tall, thin man dressed in a simple gray robe.
"I am Darius." He says, stressing the middle syllable. "I was the
Dragons first love. I am a walker of the Left Hand Way. I am the last
you will need." This ghost voice was soft, yet a sense of power rolled
under it.
Ryoga bows low, then lets the ghost enter him. This one was
different and he reels away from the tree toward the center of the
grove, his body singing with power, then it is gone. He takes a few
panting breaths. (What was that?)
(Sleep now, Ryoga.) The ghosts chorus in his mind.
He collapses slowly to the grass, suddenly wearied beyond thought or
care. Robert starts to hum, a lilting tune he has heard somewhere
before, and he drifts off.
The sound of exotic birds wakes him and he blinks groggily into the
early morning light. He sits up yawning, rubbing at his eyes with the
palms of his hands. Then the events of the last day come back to him in
a rush.
(Haiku. That Bastard took Haiku!)
He pushes himself to his feet. He needed to get started if he was
going to hunt The Bastard down.
(What a weird dream.) He goes to the pool in the center of the
grove.
(Ghosts! Feh! That was some powerful drug!) He squats down to take a
drink, looking at himself in the still surface of the pool. Four faces,
side by side, look back.
(Shit!) He yelps as he lurches backwards.
He whirls, sensing a presence behind him. Helena is kneeling about
ten feet from him, one arm up to the elbow in the ground.
"Good morning." She smiles at him.
"Uh...Uh..." He stutters back, heart pounding, as he grapples with
the realization that last night wasn't a dream at all.
"Still here. Come, Ryoga. Dig here." She summons.
He comes to her, eyes darting frantically around, looking for the
others.
"Oh, they're around." She laughs. "You'll see them when they want
you to. Now, dig."
"What am I looking for?" He asks as he scrabbles at the tough sod,
using the knife to help him.
"Treasure." Helena replies. He digs until he is about the depth
Helena had indicated, then carefully continues until his fingers brush
the soft leather bag. He pulls it up, opens it and empties a flow of
gold and jewelry into his lap.
"Take the coins and some of the rings, then re-bury the rest."
He pulls his folded bandannas from his back pocket, takes one to
wrap around the treasure, leaving him with only four. He ties one around
his head, arranging the other three by the knot in the back for easy
retrieval.
"Ready?" Robert calls from the shadow of the trees as he steps on
the loosened dirt of the filled hole, tamping it down.
"Hai." He bows to the trees, and the spirits who dwell in them, then
follows Robert into the forest.
It was a weird day and at the end of it he was still flinching when
one of them would just pop into existence beside him. Robert was the
worst, apparently taking great delight in watching him twitch, appearing
every now and then at his shoulder to say, "This way, boyo."
Helena came twice to point out some edible plants, Darius running up
the animal track that Robert had set him to following, feet not quite
touching the ground, late in the afternoon and doing a fair imitation of
a minor demon, herding a small deer in front of him for Ryoga to pick
off with his bandanna's.
He finished wrapping up the leftovers into several large overlapped
leaves and tied it into a neat bundle with a thin vine, banked the small
fire and sat staring into the dying coals, his one night with Haiku
vibrant in his memory. He drifted off into sleep and dreams.
Darius had come hunting the heart of the Dragon. He had managed to
capture it, but not in the way he had originally intended and had lost
his own in the process.
She had been very young then and the new race that was quickly
overflowing the earth fascinated her. Darius thought that was why she
had stayed her hand and didn't finish him off as he lay helpless when
his spell had failed to hold her, turning itself back on him. He still
wondered if she would have been so merciful if she had known then that
the rising of his race signaled the end of her own.
She had tended him as he recovered his strength, hunting for him,
wrapping her golden body around him against the chill of the night, and
plaguing him with endless questions about everything in her bell-like
voice as soon as she learned to manage his words.
Then one morning she had come to him, giggling, which was a very
strange sound coming from a dragon, with a "Watch! Watch what I can do!"
and shimmered and reshaped herself.
He stared in wide-eyed wonder at the woman Haiku shaped herself
into. She was beyond beautiful. She was... perfection.
"Is it right?" She asked, holding her arms out from her sides and
spinning slowly, her long hair, the color of fine honey, swirling out
and away from her as she turned.
He gulped an nodded. "You are very beautiful."
"Is that good?" She had asked, stopping her whirl and looking at him
anxiously.
He nodded again, becoming lost in the amber of her eyes.
"Good!" She threw back her head and laughed as she whirled some
more.
She captured his heart as she danced before him to a music that only
she could hear.
"I like these!" She crowed, stopping suddenly and dropping to a
crouch in front of him with supernatural speed, wiggling her fingers in
front of his face. "What do you call them, again?"
"Fingers." He had responded with a grin. Then named every part of
her body for her.
The part of him that was Ryoga watched as the long years passed, the
part of him that was Darius taking her into the world of Man, teaching
her it's ways, loving her in body and spirit. Then came the day when the
other Dragon had come, desperate, searching for a mate.
Haiku had gone down into the city early in the morning to visit the
library. He was waiting for her in the late afternoon when the huge red
male had appeared, crashing through the walls of the compound, the
household slaves scattering out of it's way as it took the roof off
their house with one swipe of it's paw.
"Where! Where is the female!?" It had shrieked, the scarring on it's
body telling him that it had not had good experiences with the human
race.
"There is no dragon here." He had hollered back, positioning himself
between the Dragon and the gates, summoning his power to defend himself
and the people fleeing behind him.
"She is!" The dragon roared. "The last female! Where is she?! I can
smell her!" He hissed, snaking his head down, his forked tongue flicking
close to Darius' head.
"On you!" The dragon shrieked.
He managed to keep it at bay for a while, then it overcame his
barriers and sent him crashing through the compound wall to slam into a
tree, his body breaking beyond repair against it. The dragon drew back
one foot, talons extended to finish him when it shrieked in pain,
whipping it's head around to face his new attacker. Darius could see
Haiku, her golden body maybe a third of the size of the males, perched
on his back, all of her talons embedded deeply into his body.
Haiku caught the underside of the males throat where the neck joined
the head as he turned toward her. She hung on, her teeth severing the
arteries as the male whipped his long neck back and forth, pulling her
loose from his body, then she lost her grip and hit the ground tumbling.
She sprang back up and leaped to stand in front of Darius.
The male staggered back a few steps, mortally wounded.
"Why?" It asked as it sank down.
"He is my mate!" Haiku had snarled, in the old tongue.
"It is human!" The male hissed back.
"It is my human!" Haiku growled back.
"You choose the Hated Ones and their world over your own?" The male
howled, then with his dying breath whispered. "Then I give it to you.
Hear me! I curse you! Forever will you wander in their world, always
drawn to them, always loving them, always loosing them! Forever alone!"
As the fire dimmed from his eyes, the power of his curse crackled
around Haiku, knocking her off her feet. She righted herself and
shimmered into her human form as she ran to him.
She made a little muffled cry deep in her chest as she straightened
out his limbs. Darius was glad that the impact had broken his back,
sparing him from the pain. She gathered him up against her, sobbing.
"Haiku." He whispered.
She pressed her forehead against his.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault. But I modify the curse." He said,
summoning the last of his strength. "Not alone. You shall never be
alone. Those who love you will remain with you, always. Their spirits
bound to your own after their bodies fade. Always there to comfort you
when the world is beyond baring."
She moaned as he stared past her into the light. He thought about
the grove where he had first met the Dragon. That would be a nice place
to rest.
"Take me home, Haiku. Take all of us home."
Ryoga pushed himself upright, fighting for breath, feeling as if
he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He pressed the palms of his hands
against his eyes as his pulse hammered wildly and painfully throughout
his skull.
(Ryoga! I am Ryoga!) He told himself, trying to separate himself
from the dream.
(Oh God! What is happening?)
"Take deep breaths, Ryoga. Relax! Concentrate on slowing the beat of
your heart!" Helena called to him from the darkness.
He dropped his hands to see Helena kneeling before him around the
sparks dancing in front of his eyes. Robert was flanking her and both
looked concerned. Darius appeared behind them, to stare at him, looking
as shocked and shaken as Ryoga.
"What the hell was that!" He snarled at Darius, anger and fear equal
in him. "You said you wouldn't get into my head or body! Go away!" He
screamed at them.
And they did.
He sat for the rest of the night, staring into the dark, thinking,
re-playing the dream and what he had learned from it and the ghosts
reaction to it. Darius had seemed as freaked out as he was.
He knew the ghosts where with him, could feel their gentle pressure
as they pressed against his consciousness, trying to get him to pay
attention to them. But he ignored them and felt somewhat better that he
had at least that much control over them.
Toward dawn Darius' voice came into his head. (Ryoga, I would speak
with you.) It echoed.
Ryoga frowned, still angry. "And if I say no?" He asked.
(Then I will remain silent until you agree.) Darius answered.
"No." Ryoga told him and could feel the ghosts finally withdraw from
him.
He watched the rising sun tint the clouds with amazing colors, then
come up behind them to touch them with golden fire, reminding him of
Hiku's' eyes. The last of his anger faded as he realized the ghosts
where going to obey him.
"O.K. What do you want?" He relented.
Darius formed in front of him, sitting cross-legged, his eyes
troubled. "I apologize, Ryoga."
"What happened?"
"We don't know. It should not have happened." He tells him, his eyes
lowered. "You hold a great power within yourself, one you have yet to
tap into. For some reason, our bonding to you is waking that power. We
think that you should return to the grove and release us."
"What? Why?!"
"Ryoga, whatever you did last night to re-live my life almost killed
you. And I can tell you that it will happen again with the rest of us,
if you do not release us."
Ryoga thinks about that, shudders internally.
"I can't." He whispers.
"Why?" Darius asks, and he can hear the rest of them under his
voice.
"I'll never find her without you." He says, hating to admit his
failing.
The rest of them ask politely, one after the other, if they could
come to him and he nods. They appeared together, clustering behind
Darius.
"But what if you die!" Helena asked.
"You'd be leavin' no one to help her." Robert added.
"It's a chance we'll have to take." Ryoga tells them firmly, willing
to risk even death to get to Haiku.
The ghosts look at each other, Helena worried, Robert and Darius
resigned.
"Well, then, boyo. Ye'd best be eatin' so we be on our way." Robert
says as the others leave.
Around mid-morning Darius comes to float along beside him. "How good
is your marksmanship with these?" He asks, pointing to the bandanna
around Ryoga's head.
"I hit what I'm aiming for." Ryoga responds.
"Show me. Can you take that leaf from there without disturbing the
others?" Darius points toward a branch about twenty feet from them.
Ryoga eyes the target, then with a smooth swift motion pulls one of
the bandanna's and sends it spinning. It slices through the slender
stalk where the leaf is attached to the tree, but takes the one next to
it also.
Darius appears next to the bandanna as it flutters to the ground to
rest, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Ryoga walks over, wondering what Darius is up to, bends and picks it
up, returning it to the knot. Darius rises and accompanies him.
"We need to talk about the collar. There are only two ways to
release Haiku from under it's spell. One is for the owner to release it,
the other is to destroy it."
Ryoga narrows his eyes, thinking of a variety of painful ways he
could get The Bastard to take it off.
"I believe our best chance lies in destroying it."
"Wouldn't it be easier just to get The Bastard to take it off?"
Ryoga responds.
Darius shakes his head.
'Why?" he starts to ask, then the hairs on his neck stand up and a
premonition comes over him.
"I wouldn't survive that attempt, huh?"
Darius raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You are having some very
interesting side effects to our bonding, Ryoga."
"I guess that means yes."
"We are not allowed to speak about the future."
"O.K. How do we destroy it?" Ryoga asks.
"I will ensorcel one of your weapons. You must be able to cast it so
that it will hit the collar, and not Haiku."
Ryoga nods his understanding, pulls a bandanna and starts looking
for targets to practice on as he walks.
"I though Haiku was immortal." He asks Darius after his third cast,
wondering why he had stressed the importance of not hitting her.
"She is, but she can still be hurt. The amount of power I'm going to
have to put into the spell will be dangerous to her. I don't think that
you want to spend the rest of your life alone while the Dragon sleeps,
healing herself."
Ryoga shakes his head violently, not even wanting to imagine that
possibility.
At the end of the day, he eats the last of the deer, to tired to
even build a fire. He sits, leaning back against a tree, legs stretched
out, his body demanding sleep but his mind and soul fighting it off in
terror of what might be coming in his dreams.
He knows it is Helena sitting beside him before he looks.
"Darius thinks that you'll go through us in chronological order.
Guess that means I'm next."
He doesn't answer, but she can see the tightening of his muscles.
"My life with Haiku was long and full of joy. An easy thing to
re-live, I hope." She smiles at him.
He leans his head back against the tree, just needing to rest his
eyes for a second.
She tried to relax as she stood on the auction block, keeping her
eyes down so that the crowd of Roman nobles in front of her wouldn't
scare her more than she already was.
The old Master had finally died, leaving his estate in such debt
that his son had to sell off some of the household slaves. He had
decided that her beauty and skills would fetch a good price. She didn't
pay attention as their voices swirled around her, then it was done.
A body servant came to lead her off the platform and toward the
waiting sedan chair. She kept her gaze on her feet, her posture
submissive, praying to the gods that her new owner would be more even
tempered than the last. The body servant stops and bows to the person in
the sedan chair, guiding her by her arm to stand in front of it.
"Humility in slaves is a good thing, but too much is too much." A
sweet voice laughs.
She raises her eyes to met the amber ones of her new Mistress. She
blinks, a little taken aback by her beauty.
"Marcus." The Mistress calls, summoning one of the other of her
household to her. "Buy any of the others you think might be useful, and
try to get a good price this time, please."
The man called Marcus bowed with a grin, something that no slave in
her old household would have dared.
The Mistress tapped on the side of the sedan, sending it forwards,
the body servant indicating with a wave of his hand that she should
follow. The villa was four hundred paces outside the walls of Rome. A
beautiful large house with many adjoining outbuildings.
She followed the body slave, who told her his name was Adrian, to
the baths, then changed into the clothing he provided for her.
Presentable, he led her to the Mistress.
She was in a library lined with more books than Helena had ever seen
in one place. She imagined that this was what the fabled library in
Alexandra looked like.
The Mistress raised her head from the household books she was
figuring in and smiled at her. Helena gulped and dropped her head.
"I am Haiku." The Mistress told her.
"Helena, Mistress." She said quietly back.
"I understand that you have some knowledge of languages?"
"Yes Mistress." She replies, hope stirring in her. The old Master
had no use for the skills she had learned from the priests at the
Temple, before the Roman's came. Only her body.
"Well, what languages?" Haiku asks, sounding a little annoyed.
"I can read and write fourteen, speak nineteen."
"Really." Haiku responds, disbelieving.
Helena nods. Haiku goes and pulls one of the books off the a shelf,
flips through some pages, then hands it to her.
"Read it please." She tells her as she leans back against the desk,
crossing her arms against her chest, obviously not expecting much.
She did. It was a love poem, written in the old picture words of
Egypt. It was very beautiful. She finished it with a sigh, wishing she
could turn the page and see what other things where inside it, but
closed it instead and looked back up to her new Mistress.
She had lowered her head and had a look of profound sadness on her
face.
"Mistress?" She had asked, distressed.
Haiku shook her head, then gave her a sad smile.
"I need someone to tend my library, keep an inventory as I add to
it. You will also be my secretary."
Helena clasped the book to her chest, tears starting in her eyes as
she bowed, then swayed, feeling a little faint as the shock of her good
fortune hit her. The Mistress was at her side with a rustle of fabric.
"What is wrong?" She asked, taking hold of her forearms to support
her, backing her to sit in a chair.
"I...This is just the answer to my prayers. I had given up hope."
She gulped through her tears. Haiku kneeled down next to her, holding
one hand and stroking the back of it gently until she regained her
composure.
She settled into Hiku's household easily, the Mistress coming to her
regularly to check on her, ask if they already had a copy of this or
that book, then starting to spend late nights reading with her and
discussing what they had just read.
The only thing to trouble her was Tiberius, the head groom from the
old Master's estate, who would watch her with greedy eyes whenever he
saw her and the strange desire awakening in her when she was with Haiku.
The household was in a state of controlled chaos, the Mistresses'
banquet only a day away and Helena sighed a little as she lit the lamps
in the library, knowing that she wouldn't be seeing Haiku tonight.
Marcus came in, looking harried.
"The Mistress say for you to write this."
Helena went to the desk and trimmed her pen quickly then nodded that
she was ready.
"The ten kegs of wine you delivered this afternoon are totally
unacceptable. You will have another ten delivered at sunup and of the
quality I paid for or I will make sure the Emperor knows just who is
responsible for the bad taste in his cup."
"Take it to the messenger and tell him that the Mistress says to
pound on the door until he gets an answer."
She repeated that after him as she had been taught as she finished
the note in her neat hand.
"Zues' balls!" He snarled as a resounding crash came from the atrium
where the tables were being set up and whirled on his heel and was off,
leaving her to run her chore.
She waited for the ink to dry enough to sand it, then folded the
paper up and heated the wax to seal it with Hiku's dragon seal.
The last of the light was just fading as she trotted to the gates at
the wall, delivering the note into the hands of the young man who was
running messages that night, waiting until he repeated the instructions
back to her, then turned and slowly began to make her way back to the
house, enjoying the early summer night. She wasn't paying much attention
when she passed the stable, so she didn't see Tiberius standing in the
shadows watching her.
Her scream was muffled by his strong hand as he seized her from
behind and began to drag her, kicking and struggling into the stable. He
cuffed her hard enough to daze her, then threw her onto her back in the
soft hay of an empty stall. He held her down, almost smothering her with
one hand as the other ripped her light toga. He had just started to
force his knee between her legs to part her thighs when Helena saw the
dragon rear up behind him, hissing.
Tiberius didn't even have time to scream as the dragon batted him
off of her to bounce off the side of the stall, dead before he hit the
ground. The dragon turned it's wedge shaped head to look at her,
Tiberius' blood dripping from the claws of one foot. Then the dragon
turned into Haiku. She fainted.
She woke, wrapped in a warm blanket and the firm circle of Hiku's
arms, the Mistress behind her and supporting her so she reclined against
her, her head resting against the hollow of her shoulder, rocking them
back and forth slowly murmuring, "There, there, now, sweet one. There,
there (something, she wasn't sure of the word)."
She shuddered a little, the image of the dragon who turned into
Haiku frightening, but she didn't pull away, feeling safe and secure in
Hiku's arms. She worked on translating the unfamiliar word Haiku was
using to distract her mind from the image of Tiberius and the dragon as
Marcus came in with a tray.
"I took care of it as you instructed, Mistress." Marcus told her as
Haiku took one of the cups from it and held it for her to sip, keeping
it steady as her own trembling hands wrapped around it.
"I told the household that one of the great cats escaped from the
bestiary of the Villa next door and attacked Helena, Tiberius and
yourself. Two of the household are already swearing they saw it leap
over the wall."
(Beloved. The word translated as beloved. Could it be?)
"Is there anything else you require, Mistress?" Marcus asked.
"No. Thank-you. Go to bed, tomorrow will be a trying day for all of
us." Haiku told him.
Marcus bowed and went.
"Are you all right, Helena?" Haiku asked gently, setting the cup
back on the tray after she pressed it back into her hand.
Helena nodded yes then asked in a small, trembling voice, "Are you a
Goddess, Mistress?"
"Gods, no!" Haiku laughed back.
"Then what? The dragon turned into you! And how did you know? How
did you know I was in trouble?" She could feel Haiku tremble a little
against her. She pushes herself up and turns so she can see her
Mistresses face. All traces of the laughter are gone. Haiku looked
scared, tired, and very alone.
"Yes, I am the dragon. But I am not a God, just a very old creature
of the world. And I am blessed with some guiding spirits who watch over
me and those I love. That's how I knew." She whispers, her eyes lowered.
(Beloved. Watches over those I love.) "Mistress, do you love me?"
Helena asked shyly, not daring to hope.
Haiku swallows and nods, closing her eyes. Helena smiles and reaches
out to put her small hand against the Mistress' cheek. Haiku leans into
the caress and covers her hand with her own, holding it there.
As Helena had promised, the rest of their life was one of
exploration and scholarship and long joy-filled nights.
Finally, Helena lay again, wrapped in a soft blanket, leaning back
against Haiku, her body old now and quickly failing her. She tilted her
head back so that she could see the soft creases of Hiku's face, her
gray hair pulled up into a soft pile on top of her head as she had
shaped her body to age with her own.
"Change Haiku. I want to see you as you were the first time I saw
you." She demands.
Haiku shimmers and then the signs of age are gone from her. She
raises her hand to Hiku's cheek and Haiku presses her face against it,
tears starting in her eyes.
"I see them, Haiku!" She smiles as the dragons lovers come for her,
standing around the bed.
"I love you." She tells the Dragon, then starts to step into the
light toward the arms waiting to welcome her.
Ryoga jerks back as something restrains him, letting Helena step
away from him.
(That's far enough this time, young one!) Darius' voice commands.
Ryoga's' eyes snap open, his heart racing, but not as crazily as it
had last night, the accompanying head ache not nearly as fierce and at
least he could still breathe. And for some reason he didn't feel as, he
searched for the right word, violated, as he had last night. Helena was
still sitting next to him, her head thrown back and a gentle smile on
her lips.
"Haiku." She whispers.
"Helena, wait!" Darius calls as he forms beside them, but she is
gone.
Ryoga pulls his knees up and rests his head against them, thinking
he should be jealous and probably offended and wondering why he's not.
"Ryoga?" Darius questions gently.
"I'm O.K." He tells him, realizing he is. "Just tired."
"No one else will come to you tonight, I promise. So rest." Darius
tells him, compassion in his voice and eyes.
Ryoga lies down, his head pillowed into one arm and falls into a
deep, dreamless sleep, trusting Darius to keep the others at bay.
He wakes in the morning as a cold wind whips over him. He sits up
and can see a small whirlwind swirling before him through the ghosts of
Darius, and Robert, who are standing shoulder to shoulder before him as
if to keep it from him.
He crosses his arms in front of his face and turns his head as it
seems to start screaming with fury, picking up small branches and other
debris and throwing them out in all directions.
"What's going on?" He yells over the shrieking wind.
"Helena be throwin' a temper tantrum." Robert yells back over his
shoulder.
"Helena! Stop it! Now!" He bellows as a branch crashes against the
tree behind him, narrowly missing his head.
The whirlwind dissipates at his command, leaving a rain of leaves to
flutter down around the ghost as she sinks to her knees in the center of
where the whirlwind had raged. The forms of the men move out of his way
as he goes to her, kneels down next to her and wishes there was some way
to hug her.
"It's horrible, Ryoga!" She whispers, bring up her hands to cover
her eyes. "He is worse than the other one! And she couldn't see me!" She
wails.
"Come here." He summons her to him, spreading his arms, acting on
some instinct he doesn't understand.
She enters him with a rush and he wraps his soul around her,
whispering "there, there, it's all right, sweet one." Just as Haiku had
done all those years ago. Finally she is a calm and settled presence
snuggled against his being.
"We be close to a village, boyo. You can be gettin' some food there,
an' maybe a quicker form of transportation, too." Robert informs him.
He pushes himself to his feet and follows. An hours walk brings him
to a rutted road, another twenty to the outskirts of a small village.
It's inhabitants gather to stare at him as he trudges in.
"Where are we?" He whispers as he tries to place the strange,
brightly colored clothing and lilting language.
"India." Helena answers.
"Great." He growls flatly.
He exchanged one of the plain gold rings for a simple meal, a change
of clothes, a ride on an ox cart to the next village where the locals
informed him he can catch a bus to the city, and enough money to pay the
fare, Helena translating for him and sounding out the words he wishes to
respond with carefully so he can repeat them.
"I'm not sure this be faster." Robert informs him as he scrambles to
the roof of the brightly decorated bus, having stuck his head inside and
promptly decided that the roof was highly preferable to the variety of
people and livestock crammed inside.
It was faster, but not by much, the bus stopping every fifteen
minutes or so to off load and on load. Ryoga was forced to take refuge
inside in the late afternoon as a thunderstorm came on them, swinging in
through a window and arching his body enough to miss the riders on the
seat under it to land in the isle, one of the old men whacking him in
the shin as a chicken squawked under his foot. He hopped backwards and
went down as something hit the back of his knees. He ended up nose to
snout with a very unhappy pig tethered to one of the seat legs. He
shuddered and pushed himself up quickly, his eyes scanning the bus for a
place to sit.
Of course, there wasn't one. He ended up standing, the pig pressed
up against his shins. It had to be one of the longest nine hours of his
life.
The only thing he wanted when he got off that bus was a bath and a
bed, willing even to endure a haunting to get some rest. He followed
Robert through the crowded streets and into a prestigious looking hotel.
"What are we doing here?" Ryoga whispered to the ghost as he walked
through the magnificent lobby toward the large wood and marble front
desk.
"Haiku stayed here. They take gold." Helena responded from behind
his left shoulder, making him twitch. "Sorry." She apologized.
The desk clerk eyed him, taking in his disheveled and dirty state
with obvious distaste as he came to a halt in front of him.
"Can I help you sir?" He asked.
"I need a room."
"And will that be a Visa or Matercard, sir?" The man sneered.
Ryoga pulled the rolled bandanna from his waistband and unrolled it
on the desk. The clerk gulped as he saw the gold glitter in it.
"Give him two of the coins." Helena told him. "That should get us
anything we want."
Ryoga did, feeling vindicated as the clerk suddenly became a fawning
idiot.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" The clerk asked as
he handed him the key.
"Food."
The clerk takes out a piece of paper and waits. Ryoga repeated the
strange sounding dishes Helena suggested to him, then headed for the
elevator, waving off the boy who was coming to accompany him.
He was feeling much better as he answered the door, toweling off his
hair as the waiter wheeled in the room service cart.
"What's he waiting for?" Ryoga whispered to Helena as the man
hovered by the cart.
"Tell him that his gratuity will be given at the end of your stay."
Helena advised.
He did and the man left, not looking very pleased.
"What time is it in Tokyo?" He asked, spying the phone, thinking he
needed to call Shibata and make sure he was O.K.
"Around one in the morning." Helena answered.
Ryoga debated, then decided that he'd wait until morning.
He ate everything, then went and flopped onto the bed. "O.K. Let's
get this over with."
Robert appeared to sit by him on the bed.
"I'm not sure I be wantin' to share me life with you, boyo." Robert
scowled.
"Great. Don't. Believe me, I don't want to share it either." Ryoga
growled back as he plumped the pillow into a more comfortable shape and
turned onto his side, back facing Robert. He lay waiting, body exhausted
but sleep eluding him.
He heard the ghosts whispering furiously. He rolled back over to see
Robert, still sitting beside him, arms crossed and a stubborn expression
on his face with Helena and Darius standing in front of him, arguing in
fierce whispers.
Ryoga propped himself up onto his elbows. "What is going on?" He
demanded.
"Robert's being shy." Helena answered, frowning.
"I'm not! He just has no right to be sharin' my time with Haiku!"
"You don't have a choice, Robert." Helena tried to reason with him.
"We're his ghosts now, too."
"I do."
"No, you don't. You can't keep him awake forever."
"Enough!" Darius' voice crackled with power, bringing Helena and
Robert to a halt. "Helena, leave!"
She flickered out.
"Do it." He commanded Robert softly, his eyes glowing with cold
fire.
Robert gulped a little, then began to hum softly, the same lullaby
he had taught Haiku so long ago, and Ryoga slipped back down to the bed,
asleep before his shoulders hit the bed.
Well, on the good side, the blizzard had helped him finally manage
to elude the two English knights who had been pursuing him for the last
three days, but on the bad side he had ridden his horse into the ground
in the process and the fat purse hanging from his belt wouldn't be doing
him much good if he froze to death.
He hiked the harp strap a little higher on his shoulder, that and
the long sword against his back beneath it the only two things he truly
owned. He'd have to find shelter soon.
He trudged on, imagining warm food and fire and trying to ignore his
chattering teeth. He blinked a few times, not believing his eyes as the
horse and rider appeared like an apparition out of the blinding snow. He
hollered and waved and the rider kicked the horse forward to draw up
even to him.
It was a lad, blond, beautiful of face and with the strangest eyes.
He took in the good quality of the horse and the stag tied up behind the
saddle and considered taking the lad on, but then decided that he was
too cold and tired to win.
"I'm finding myself lost, young sir. I'm a minstrel by trade and was
told that their was a Lord these parts looking for an entertainer to
help him wile away the long winter hours." (Not exactly a lie.)
"Yes. You're on the Earl of Snowden's lands now, but I hadn't heard
that he was looking for a minstrel." The lad nudges the horse and sends
it dancing sideways out of his reach.
"Have mercy, kind sir. I'm truly lost and without hope of shelter!"
The lad smiled a little, then kicked the horse into a slow walk.
"Snowden is renowned for it hospitality. I'm sure that another voice
at the fire will be welcome." He said, then continued on, not checking
to see whether Robert followed or not.
The boy kept the horse at a slow enough pace for him to follow and
after about half of an hour they broke through the forest and headed up
the hill towards the cluster of cottages that surrounded the castle.
He pulled up at the square and dismounted, the serfs hurrying from
the houses to converge on him.
Robert stood stomping his feet, trying to warm them and blowing into
his hands as the lad undid the knots holding the deer to the saddle and
guided the carcass to the ground, then bent over it to begin separating
a rear haunch from the rest of the body with practiced ease.
"God bless you, Sir! The Holy Angles watch over you, forever, Sir!"
And a variety of similar blessings swirled around the lad as he handed
the meat over and then with strength surprising for so slight a boy,
hefted the deer back over the horses haunches and retied it, then took
the reins and led it to the castle gates.
Robert followed, somewhat surprised. It was the Lords duty to feed
his household and serfs, but during the lean months of the winter, all
went hungry, what food there was going to the Lord and the castle first.
The horses steps rang hollowly as they passed through the wide
vaulted arch that penetrated the wall, a shout telling him that their
coming had been noted. A guard and a groom waited for them at the inner
gate.
The groom took charge of the horse, the lad telling him, "Take the
deer to the kitchens." The groom nodded with a huge grin on his face,
obviously looking forwards to a feast.
The guard slapped the lad on the back and chuckled. "Seems you'll be
feeding us again this night, Henry. All of the others came back empty
handed. Who is your friend?"
"Robert of the clan of Duncan." Robert bowed, his hand moving
unconsciously to catch the harp as it began to slide forward over his
shoulder.
"He is asking for refuge from the storm and seeks employment with
Lord Snowden, Sergeant." The lad named Henry told him.
"Well, we'll see what can be arranged. You go get yourself warm now,
lad." Henry bows and crosses the courtyard.
"You. Come with me." The sergeant led him into the warmth of the
castle.
Robert sat next to the fireplace of the solarium, a little to the
side of the knot of ladies who sat working at their embroiders and
weavings, his fingers coaxing music from the harp as he eavesdropped,
ignored.
It had been six weeks since he had arrived, the Earl taking him into
service in exchange for room and board. It was a grand deal, this
household eating better than any other he had wintered with and he had
quickly found a handsome young widow who was willing to help him chase
the chill from his bed during the long winter nights.
"Elenore has that look in her eyes again." Margaret quipped.
"What look?" Gwyndolyn, the Earls oldest daughter asked.
"Why, that look she gets when she's dreaming of young Henry!"
Margaret replied.
Elenore, the Earls youngest, blushed and dropped her gaze to the
piece of fabric sitting in her lap.
Robert had known that most of the girls in the castle where smitten
with the lad, all of them following him with their eyes as he passed and
sighing. What was strange was that the boy didn't seem interested in any
of them back.
I would be leery of that one." Catherine, one of the matrons of the
group, the wife of Sir John warned in her somber voice. "There's
something strange about him."
"Oh, don't be silly!" Genavive scolded.
"I'm not. He appears at the gates out of nowhere, always hunts alone
and brings back game when the others don't catch a glimpse of hind or
hare, and those eyes! They are the mark of a creature of the Devil, mark
my words. And my husband says he has seen him perform feats of strength
that puts Sir Boris to shame. He believes him to be a servant of the
devil himself."
The knot of women gasp and Robert frowns. He had noticed that the
Captain of the Knights had been jealous of the lad, but this indicated
serious trouble.
"Enough, Catherine!" Gwyndolyn states, her voice firm. "Henry came
with letters of introduction from Great Uncle Edward, asking my father
to grant him sanctuary in this house. We should thank God that He
blesses Henrys' hunts!
And you and your husband don't seem to mind eating what he brings
back. We have eaten better this winter than we have in the last five and
there has been no illness in the house since he's been here and we
haven't lost a single babe born.
He goes to vespers with the rest of the court, something that no
demon could do. I'd say that, if anything, we're sheltering an angel
unawares, not a creature of hell."
Catherine scowls, but Gwendolyn's sharp defense of the lad seems to
have stopped her tirade.
"I think he's an exiled Prince." Elenore speaks up softly. "His
manners and bearing are one of Royal blood. He can read and write better
that the chapel priest, did you know that?"
The Ladies' shake their heads and continue on, each offering an
explanation of who the boy was. He concentrates on the harp for a few
minutes, Catherine's comments setting him to wondering how exactly the
lad did manage to bring in so much game and decided that the next time
he went out, he'd track him and find out. Then another comment catches
his attention.
"The serfs are talking about a dragon appearing in the forest!" That
was Genavive again.
The Ladies' make the appropriate disbelieving sounds.
"No, really. The woodcutter said he's seen it twice, a great golden
beast, passing through the forest without a sound."
"More like he's taken a little too much wine with him to keep him
warm in his task." Gwyndolyn smiles back.
Robert smiles as he agrees silently with her. In all his wandering
there was always a dragon or unicorn or some other beastie haunting the
countryside. He had yet to see one or meet anyone who had. Always it was
the friend of a friend, or some such. He tunes them out again as their
conversation turns to more mundane things, getting lost in the music of
his harp.
Three days later, he stalked Henry. He waited until the two hunting
parties had split up as they entered the woods, Henry, as always,
turning the opposite direction from them both and going alone.
He called a cheerful greeting to the guard as he left and sauntered
down the road until he hit the treeline, then stashed his harp in the
branches of a tree and circled noiselessly to the place he had seen
Henry enter the woods. He tracked him deep into the forest, freezing
into place as he heard the creak of harness.
He crept forwards until he spied Henry's horse, standing hip shot
and tethered to a tree. He waited a few minutes, senses alert, but no
one was about, then came to the horse. He frowned when he saw the bow
and quiver still attached to the saddle and puzzled even more as he
spied the boys clothes rolled and tied behind the saddle, the tops of
his boots sticking out of one of the saddle bags. Surly he wasn't
hunting buck naked and not in this cold. He followed the boys barefoot
tracks through the snow. They went about fifty yards then disappeared.
He repressed a shudder as Catherine's' words came back to him,
circling farther and farther out, looking for any sign. He didn't find
any trace of the boy, but he did find a print, the likes of which he had
never seen before. He put his foot along side it. Whatever it was, it
was big. Really big. He swallowed hard in excitement and fear. Like
dragon big. Henry be damned! He was going to get a look at a dragon!
He followed the faint trail farther and farther into the forest,
when the creak of a moving branch told him he wasn't alone. He hunkered
down behind the remains of a large fallen tree, peered over the top.
The stag was on it's back legs, the front ones against the tree as
it stretched it's neck up to nibble at the bark. He slowly scanned the
surroundings, then a flicker of gold caught his eye.
He stared hard until the dragon resolved out of the dappling of
sunlight and shadows about forty feet to his right. He took it in, a
smile of wonder appearing on his face. It was so beautiful!
He watched it creep forwards a few more feet, head low, stalking the
deer. Then it's head whipped up, the neck making an S-shaped arch, the
deer starting and leaping into the woods.
The dragon whirled and sprang away, but not before the crossbow bolt
embedded itself behind it's right shoulder. Robert froze in place as Sir
John crashed out of the brush, cursing and trying to re-cock the
crossbow as he ran after the dragon.
Robert followed at a safe distance, pausing to watch from behind a
trunk as Sir John stopped, growled some curses and started casting about
in wider and wider circles, apparently having lost the trail. Finally he
turned stealthy and headed off, apparently finding it again.
Robert started to follow when a rustle overhead froze him in his
tracks. A naked figure dropped into a crouch out of a tree close to
where John had started his outward circle, facing away from him and with
a crossbow bolt sticking out of it's back.
(Henry?) Robert gasped as the figure staggered away, going opposite
of the direction John had taken. He hurried to follow, not daring to
call out, fearing to bring John on them both. He heard the rustle of
branches and whirled, his hand going to his sword hilt, expecting to see
the knight, but instead a few of the branches of the tree he had just
passed under shook until they dropped their load of snow, covering their
tracks.
He swallowed hard, the hair on the back of his neck rising. (Angel
unawares! Please, an angel unawares!) He breathed the quick prayer as he
turned to follow Henry, the trees casting snow after him, filling in his
footsteps.
He caught up with the lad about half a mile from where he first
spied him. The boy had finally collapsed, huddled with his knees under
him, forehead resting against the snow, the arm of the damaged shoulder
tucked up against his chest, the bolt moving with each panting breath.
"Oh, Lord, Henry." Robert had whispered softly as he came to him.
The boy turned his beautiful face to him, his amber eyes full of
pain and resignation.
"Easy, boyo." He told him softly as he knelt beside him, eyeing the
wound. He unclasped his cloak and draped it over him, avoiding the
shoulder.
"Where's John?" Henry whispered.
"Going the other way." Robert answered. "Now, you lie still." He
told him as the boy pushed himself up with the one hand, then sank back
down to his original position.
"Pull it out, Robert." Henry hissed.
"It'll kill you, boy. Let me make you a litter and I'll get you back
to the castle."
Henry reached out and grasped him firmly by the wrist. "No. There's
no going back there for me now. He'll know. He'll figure it out. Please,
just pull the damned thing out!"
"You're raving, lad. Just rest, now and let me get started."
"If you don't do it, I'll just go find someone who will." Henry
pushed himself up and sat back on his heels, the cloak falling from his
shoulders as he struggled to push himself up to his feet.
"Holy Mother of God!" Robert whispered, stunned as he got his first
good look at Henry front first. The quarrel had gone clean through her
chest, the tip of the bolt just protruding above her left breast. He
reached out to catch her as she fell back to her knees. "Henry, you're a
woman!"
She pushed him away. "Either help me, Robert, or leave me alone!"
She growled.
"If I pull it, it'll kill you." Robert told her, wondering why she
wasn't already dead.
"No, it won't. I'd do it myself, but I can't reach the damned thing.
Please, Robert. It hurts." That last plea touched his heart.
"All right. Here." (Forgive me God! But she'll be dying soon enough
anyway!) He prayed as he arranged his cloak for her to lie on, then
draped the rest to cover her again. He moved so he had one knee above,
one below the shaft, then gripped it firmly with both hands. "Ready?" He
asked.
She nodded. He pulled with strong but steady pressure, drawing the
thing out of her flesh. She didn't scream as he had expected, only made
a low groaning growl. He threw the bolt away from him as he moved his
weight off quickly.
She sighed hugely. "Thank-you." She whispered, then fainted.
He carried her over his shoulder as he backtracked, relieved that
the tracks indicated that John had already gone back, having given up on
the Dragon in the face of the foul weather coming. The temperature had
already dropped quite a bit and a few flakes of snow had started to
drift down.
He was trying to figure why Henry was running naked in the forest
and how she had managed to end up with a crossbow bolt in her back and
what he kept coming up with was so bizarre that he couldn't accept it.
His years of thieving had made him cautious, and he snuck up to the
area where Henry's horse was tethered, circling around it, making sure
there was no one waiting in ambush. He thanked God that he did, for John
was lurking, waiting for Henry to show, crossbow cocked and ready.
(Lord, did the man intend murder?)
He backed noiselessly away, then backtracked John to his horse. (Tit
for tat.) He grinned. Henry stirred against him as he kicked the horse
into motion.
"Where are we going?" She asked.
"Bad weather coming. We need to find you some shelter and I've got
to retrieve my harp."
She struggled a little against him. "No! You can't take me back
there!" She hissed as her wound pained her.
"Don't worry, Henry. I've got a plan. Now you just rest." She
frowned up at him, but settled more comfortably into his arms.
It was a full out blizzard when he dismounted to retrieve his harp
from the tree. He pulled Henry off the saddle and back over his
shoulder, the woman unconscious again, then sent the horse up the road
to the castle with a firm whack to it's hindquarters. He wondered how
Sir John had explained coming back on Henry's horse without Henry.
Robert had pulled them off the path as he heard the approach of
another horse and John passed them by at a gallop. And how he was going
to explain his own showing up riderless at the gates.
He headed back into the wood and towards his bolt hole. It was an
abandoned hut that he had stumbled across on one of his walks. It wasn't
exactly weatherproof, but it would serve. He built up the fire in the
crumbling hearth then turned his attention to Henry.
He got her wound bound, still trying to figure out how she acquired
it and even stranger still, how she was still alive. He sat as close to
the fire as he dared, trying to stay warm. The only thing that made
sense was that Henry was the dragon. He took a couple of more swallows
out of the wineskin. Then he realized that Henry was staring at him with
her strange golden eyes.
"Where are we?" She asked, frowning.
"Oh, just a place I found the other day." He answered, grinning. He
moved to help her as she struggled up to sit, but she pushed him away, a
look of distrust on her face.
The hair on his neck rose again as she seemed to stare at something
over his shoulder, head cocked as if listening. He turned to look, but
nothing was there.
When he turned back to her, there was something so lost and sad
about her that it hurt his heart.
"There, there, now, Lady Henry. I swear on my honor you've nothin'
to fear from me."
She gave him a tentative smile. "Haiku. My name is Haiku, Robert."
"Lady Haiku, then." He grinned back at her.
They eyed each other for a few moments, then Robert offered her the
wine skin and helped her upend it.
"I saw a grand beast in the forest today, Lady Haiku." He told her
as she drank. "It was a great golden dragon, the likes of which only
live in minstrels tales. And it took a crossbow bolt just like you."
She finished her drink, then stared at him, an aura of menace coming
from her. "Aren't you afraid, Robert?"
"Nay, Lady Haiku. Should I be?" He asked back, full of bravado.
She shook her head, finding herself amused by this crazy human. Then
she swayed as the pain of her wound reasserted itself and her body
demanded rest.
"Easy, there, Lady." He moved in to catch her and lowered her back
to the floor and wrapped the cloak more securely around her. She
murmured something to low for him to make out.
"Just rest now, I'll watch over you. I swear."
And he did. For the rest of his life.
He fell in love with her as he tended her and after a while of
wandering and grand adventures he took her back home, back to Scotland.
He got them a position in a small court, he as minstrel and she as a
governess for the Lords daughters and their life was good.
Then came the day the Bruce called for all the able bodied men of
Scotland to come and fight for their freedom. She had begged him not to
go, but he had, swearing that he'd come home to her.
It battle was fierce and he thought as he fell, the sword that
struck him down cleaving him from shoulder to hip, "Lord, Haiku was
going to be angry."
Darius and Helena grabbed him as they started to rise towards the
light, Robert continuing on as Ryoga fell back onto the bed. He groaned,
head pounding and curled around himself, pressing his hands to the
phantom pain of the wound Robert had taken, then it was gone, leaving
only the headache. He cracked his eyes open and looked around the
darkened room. Helena had replaced Robert on the bed.
"It's all right, Ryoga. All done." She smiled reassuringly.
(Aspirin. He needed to remember to get some aspirin.) He fell back
asleep as he waited for the throb to subside.
He woke up in the morning without a ghost in sight. He could feel
them, but it was like they where somewhere else. He showered, wishing
for a proper Japanese bathroom, wondering what was with the ghosts, but
feeling relieved that they were leaving him alone for a while.
He shook out the clothes he had hung in the closet the night before,
hoping that they'd air out some. They hadn't, they still smelled like
pig and bus and wished he didn't have to put them back on.
(Aspirin and clothes.) He reminded himself as he picked up the room
service menu by the phone and struggled through the descriptions, called
in his order, then made a collect call to the dojo.
"Westwind Aikikai." A strange voice answered. "Yes, I'll accept the
call. Ryoga? This is Yoshi. Where are you?"
"India."
"What?"
"Never mind. Is the Sensei there?"
"Man, what happened here, Ryoga? Sensei is still in the hospital. He
had a heart attack. We came in for class and found him upstairs with
these weird darts in him. And you and Ms. Haiku where gone. Are you
O.K.?"
Ryoga squeezed his eyes shut, anger coursing through him.
"Ryoga?"
"Hai, I'm still here. It's a long story. Is the Sensei going to be
O.K.?"
"Yes. The doctors say he's a really tough old man. He should be able
to come home in a couple of more days. He keeps asking for you and Ms.
Haiku, though."
"Tell him that we'll be coming home in a few more days, too. Take
care of him for us 'till then, O.K. Yoshi?"
"O.K. I'll tell him."
"Thanks. See you." He slammed the receiver back onto it's cradle
hard enough to crack it's casing. He stalked across the room to answer
the knock on the door, envisioning all sorts of unpleasant things he was
going to do to The Bastard before he killed him, and glared at the boy
with the cart.
"Uh, Mr. Hibiki?" The boy stuttered, taking a step back.
"Yes."
"Um, your breakfast? Sir?"
"Thanks." Ryoga growled, pulled the cart in and slammed the door.
The boy hurried back down the hall, thinking that he hated the
morning shift. Some people just didn't wake up well at all.
Ryoga stalked around the room, ignoring the breakfast cart, trying
to get his anger under control. He needed to hit something bad. He
started doing katas instead, pushing himself faster and faster, getting
lost in the rhythm of his art. Twenty minutes later he slowed to a stop,
his mind centered, his anger, which had been a part of his being for as
long as he could remember, contained.
"That was impressive." Helena murmured.
For the first time he didn't twitch. "Where you been?" He asked as
he went to get a towel.
"Your breakfast is getting cold." She answered, side-stepping the
question.
He stuck his head back out of the bathroom to look at her. Robert
had appeared by the window, back to him, looking out into the street.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head.
"Where's Darius?"
She looked down to her hands.
"Has something happened to Haiku?" He asked with a little flutter of
terror tightening his chest.
"Nothing worse than what's already happening. Tamura is planning to
wed her two nights from now." Robert told him from the window.
(Tamura. He had a name for The Bastard now.) "Marry her?" He hissed,
as that sank in.
Helena nodded.
"We've got to get to her now. Where is she?"
"Japan." They answered in unison.
"O.K." He uncovered the plates on the cart, picked one up and
started to eat, pacing. "I need to get a plane ticket, I guess. Do we go
to a pawn shop or do you think the hotel will convert the gold for us?"
He stopped in mid-stride, looking at her. Something was seriously wrong.
He looked to Robert, who was still staring outside.
"What's going on?" He demanded.
"He's sent someone to destroy us." Helena whispered.
"What?"
"You heard her, boyo. He's given Haiku an ultimatum. He'll ask her
once more on their wedding night where Chiba is buried. If she doesn't
answer to his satisfaction, he'll scatter our bones to the winds. This
man needs some serious killing."
Ryoga sank onto the bed, stunned.
"Would it work? I mean, would that kill you?"
"You can't 'kill' something that's already dead, Ryoga." Helena
answers flatly. "No, he plans to do something worse to us. He will turn
us into Lost Ones. Those who wander, always alone, unable to find peace.
We would search for the Dragon forever, yet never be able to find her."
(The Bastard was going to damn Hiku's ghosts? My ghosts? She must be
hysterical!)
"It won't happen." He promised. "Even if it kills me, I won't let it
happen." The two ghosts look at each other, then seem to relax a
little.
"O.K. So where do we go to get our gold exchanged?" He asked, rising
and pacing again, more determined than ever to get to Haiku and The
Bastard as soon as possible.
He settled his account at the front desk, Helena suggesting an
amount to leave the staff and still ended up with enough money to buy a
set of clothes in the way overpriced boutique in the lobby.
The two of them had a 'discussion' over the choice of clothing, she
'tsk'ing in disgust at his choices, he frowning in rejection at hers.
Finally they compromised and Ryoga left the hotel, still thinking that
he looked like an executive in training but Helena assuring him that the
look was vital for the next part of their journey.
Robert steered him to the antiques dealer who had handled Hiku's
coins, and in an hour he was in a taxi and on his way to the airport
with more money stashed around on his person that he had ever seen
before, much less possessed. As Helena had promised, his 'look' lent
credence to the story of a lost and mugged tourist that they cooked up
between them to explain his lack of a passport.
The petty bureaucrat that they ended up with didn't by it, though,
and was going to refuse him a temporary travel visa until Helena did a
thing that made his hair stand up on end. Literally.
Robert growled "Helena, don't." as she stepped right into him.
Suddenly the man was all understanding and issued him the visa,
apologized profusely for his bad experience, shook his hand with a
friendly smile as he rose to leave. He hesitated for a moment, waiting
for Helena, until Robert told him that she'd be along in a while.
He hurried out of the administrative wing of the airport, his prize
clutched firmly in his hand. He bought a first class ticket on the first
flight available going into Tokyo, the counter attendant eyeing him a
little strangely as he pulled out a wad of cash to pay for it. He just
glared at her, daring her to say something. She didn't. He headed for
the gate, the plane leaving in thirty minutes.
"Where's Helena?" He asked Robert as he settled into the seat.
"She's coming. Best be steelin' yourself, boyo."
"Why?"
He jerked as if shocked as Helena came back to him, and he felt a
great drain all the way to his soul.
"uff!" was all he could manage.
(Sorry, Ryoga.) Helena whispered in his head. He suddenly felt as
exhausted as she sounded.
(He was going to refuse us and we couldn't waste the time to wander
through his paperwork. I didn't think it was going to be
this...draining.)
(It's all right. Just give me a little warning next time, O.K.?) He
reassured her as he yawned hugely. As soon as the plane had hurled
itself into the air, he pushed the seat back down as far as it would go,
the vibration from the engines lulling him into sleep.
It was midnight when the taxi pulled up to the house. Ryoga went
around to the back and got the spare key from the hollow in the stone
lantern and let himself in.
"Sensei?" He called as he slid the door aside at the top of the
stairs, but the house was empty.
He clicked on the TV as he went into the kitchen, the background
noise making the house seem less lonely. There was a note on the
refrigerator from Yoshi, with the hospital name and Shibata's room and
phone number. Next to it was a shopping list in Hiku's neat hand. At the
bottom it had a note.
'Remember that Ryoga likes pistachio ice cream. Buy him some.' He
touched those words with his finger tips, could hear Haiku say them in
his mind. Tears stung his eyes as for some reason those silly words made
him realize just how much he loved her.
"Ryoga." Darius summoned.
He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand before he turned.
"Time to make the weapon."
Darius led him into Hiku's study.
"Put it there." He indicated the floor in the center of the room.
Ryoga shook the bandanna he had chosen out, then laid it out as
Darius instructed, each corner pointing toward a cardinal direction. He
looked at the ghost, wondering what was next. The temperature in the
room started to plummet.
"Leave." Darius told him, his eyes starting to burn with cold blue
fire. "I'll come to you when it is finished."
Helena and Robert where waiting for him in the living room.
"Time to create our strategies." Helena smiled as she patted the
sofa beside her. "This will be easier to do if you close your eyes."
"What are you going to do?" He asked, eyeing them both suspiciously.
"Just take you on a little road trip."
He raised his eyebrows in a silent query.
"We're going to Tamura's stronghold and you're going to come along
for the ride."
He frowned at them, not understanding, but he trusted them. "O.K. If
you say so."
"Just close your eyes and relax, take some deep breaths, don't
resist us." Helena instructed.
He did, feeling the presence of both of the ghosts around him, then
there was the sound like rushing wind and the feeling of incredible
speed. He opened his eyes and gulped as he found himself hovering high
over a large walled estate.
He felt a second of panic, then grinned as he realized he wasn't
going to fall. (This is cool!)
"This is Tamura's house, about seventy-five kilometers southeast of
here." Helena told him.
The grin vanished as he 'moved'. He fought down a surge of nausea.
"Robert!" Helena scolded.
"Sorry about that, boyo." He sounded contrite. "Forgot that you are
still bound by the laws of the world."
"It's O.K." He hissed through gritted teeth. "Just give me a little
warning next time, will you?"
They where standing outside of the high walls that surrounded the
estate.
"Here's the best place to be goin' over. The," a picture of a camera
mounted in a tree on the other side came into his head.
"Camera." he supplied the word.
"Aye, that, is lookin' away fer twenty seconds here. Kin ye get to
this tree in that amount of time, boyo?"
This time they moved up and over the wall, across a small open space
of lawn and under the tree with the camera. He nodded.
A large pair of dogs came hurling at them, hackles raised and teeth
bared. Ryoga started to scramble up the tree, Robert tugging him back
down by his ankle.
"Look." He told him.
Helena had kneeled down in front of the dogs, murmuring to them
quietly. They sniffed at her half perceived form, then turned and
trotted off.
"Yeah, but is that going to work tomorrow when I'm really here?" He
asked.
Helena nodded. "They know who I am. They will obey me."
"I hope so." Ryoga muttered.
Robert led him through the rest of the gardens, pointing out cameras
until they reached the house. The way in would be through a small window
into a storage closet. It would be a tight fit, but he could squeeze
through. They moved noiselessly down the hallways, Ryoga feeling uneasy
as they walked past people who couldn't see them.
He paused as they passed the entrance of a large traditionally
furnished sitting room, the life sized portrait hanging over the
fireplace having caught his eye. He drifted into the room, drawn to it.
It was of Haiku.
"Best not to be standin' in one place to long here, boyo." Robert
told him as he came to his side.
"Why?" He asked, staring intently at the portrait. Even though she
was smiling, she looked so sad.
"The children of the Dragon are very sensitive to the supernatural."
Helena told him.
"Too late." Robert hissed.
Ryoga turned to see the man who had spared his life in the grove
standing in the doorway. He frowned as he looked around the room, as if
searching for something. He started across the room, heading for the
portrait.
"Come on." Robert whispered, moving away from him and toward the
door.
"Ryoga!" Helena called softly as he didn't move, studying the man
coming toward him.
He was only a few years older than himself and bore an uncanny
resemblance to the painting behind him. He could be her dark haired
younger brother.
"Come on!" Robert growled.
The young man paused, looking up at the portrait, a troubled
expression on his handsome face, then he looked straight into Ryoga's
eyes.
"I didn't kill you. I could never do anything that would hurt the
Great Mother. You had best leave this house. If my father senses you
here, he will only be more demanding of the Golden Lady." With that, he
turned and walked out.
Ryoga just stood opened mouthed. "What?" He looked at Helena and
Robert, who where frowning at him.
"You be lucky it was that one an' not The Bastard himself. Tamura
would have known you be not a ghost. Now come on!"
They hurried through the rest of the house, plotting a way past the
two sets of guards he'd have to pass on his way to the room where they
were going to attempt the rescue.
The first pair where stationed at the stairway leading to the third
floor. Robert and Helena assured him that they should be able to create
a distraction to give him enough time to slip up the stairs.
The second pair was stationed at the entrance to the short hallway
that led to the double doors into the large room where the wedding was
to be held.
"These you'll have to take out yourself." Robert told him as they
moved past them and through the doors into the room itself.
When the house had been made it had been the room where the Lord had
held court. Now it was lavishly decorated for the upcoming wedding.
Ryoga eyed the distance between the doors and the raised platform at the
other end. He'd have to cross about thirty feet to get close enough for
a sure cast.
They had decided that this would be the best place to attempt the
rescue because no one in the room would be carrying weapons. The guards
at the end of the hall would make sure of that.
"O.K. So once I've gotten her free, how do we get out?" He was sure
that a lot of guys with guns would show up fairly quickly.
"Through there." Robert pointed at the large bank of windows behind
the platform.
Ryoga went and looked down the three story drop. He unconsciously
shifted his weight and bounced a little on his bad knee. It had healed
well, but was still not a strong as it had been. There was about fifty
feet of open ground then trees covered the remaining hundred or so to
the wall. Do-able.
"O.K. Anything else?" He asked, still studying the grounds, trying
to figure the best escape route.
Robert started to answer something when the doors opened behind him.
"Oh, Lord." He groaned.
Ryoga whirled, then froze. Haiku was standing in the doorway.
Helena made a little strangled sound and turned away as Haiku walked
slowly toward the windows, the silk of her kimono whispering as she
moved. Hiroshi was a dim glow trailing her at about fifteen feet.
Ryoga couldn't move, just stare as she came toward him. She was so
thin and so pale! The ghosts moved back as the magic from the collar hit
them. For some reason, it didn't seem to bother him.
She sank to her knees in front of windows, no more than three feet
from him. She raised one palm and placed it against the cold glass, then
leaned her forehead beside it, tears starting down her cheeks. He
couldn't stand it!
"Haiku! Please don't cry! I'm coming for you!" He tried to touch
her, then panicked as he found he couldn't move.
"It's the collar, Ryoga. Don't struggle against it. You'll just have
to wait until she moves." Hiroshi called to him.
He stood, frozen as Haiku cried, his heart a tightening knot in his
chest. "Please, Haiku, move." He pleaded with her, silently cursing the
collar, cursing The Bastard. He couldn't take much more of this. Helena
gave a sobbing cry and winked out.
Shin appeared at the door and moved to her side. "Please, Golden
Lady, don't cry."
She moved away from him and closer to Ryoga. He leaned down close to
her.
"I didn't kill him, Golden Lady. I swear. Forgive me enough to let
me help you in what ever ways I can." He straighten up, then placed his
hand under her elbow to help her up.
"Come, please. Let me take you back to your room before Father
starts looking for you."
She didn't look at him, but let him guide her up and lead her out.
As soon as he was outside of the collars influence, Robert grabbed
him and there was the disorienting rush of speed and wind and he sat
bolt upright on the sofa. He wasn't thinking, just reacting to the red
haze of fury that possessed him. He fumbled for Hiku's keys in the
basket and stormed down the stairs.
"Ryoga, don't do this! It's not time. You don't have the weapon."
Helena appeared in front of him. He spun around her, heading for the
garage and the motorcycle.
"Robert!" Helena screamed.
Robert appeared in the door to the garage barring his way. "Ryoga,
lad, I'm not going to let you pass. Now, ye'd best be getting that anger
of yours under control."
"Get out of my way." He snarled.
"No." Robert grinned at him, making him madder.
"Get out of my way, Robert, or I'm going right through you."
"I wouldn't advise it boyo. It will be an unpleasant experience for
both o' us."
Ryoga just narrowed his eyes and stepped determinedly through the
doorway and Robert. It was like walking through a freezing electrified
shower.
"Oh, shit!" He groaned as he sank to his knees on the other side of
the doorway. Robert echoed that sentiment in his head, then faded into a
background presence.
(Robert?) He questioned, worried. Whatever had just happened had
snapped his beserker rage, leaving him feeling weak but clearheaded.
Robert was there, he could feel him, but his presence was hardly
detectable.
"What did Robert do?" He growled at Helena as he struggled to his
feet. She looked angry and worried at the same time.
"We had to stop you. Robert manifested as much of himself as he
could when you stepped through him. When the stuff of life merges with
the stuff outside of life, they try to cancel each other out."
He just looked at her and shuddered.
"He gave you fair warning." Helena muttered. "You should have
listened."
"Next time, I will, believe me." He scowled as he headed back into
the dojo, fighting the weariness that was settling on him. "Will he be
all right?" He asked quietly as he mounted the steps, Helena floating
beside him.
"Yes. He will recover faster if you'd sleep. Just as I did while you
slept on the plane."
"O.K., O.K." He looked into Hiku's bedroom, someone had made the bed
while they were gone. He couldn't sleep there, wouldn't sleep there
until Haiku slept there beside him. He went to his old room and
stretched out on the futon. (Tomorrow. It would be over tomorrow.)
It was a little unnerving to have Robert float beside him as he
opened up the bike on the highway. He stashed the bike in the trees and
walked the last two miles in, keeping well off the road and out of sight
of the steady stream of cars heading to the house.
He leaned against a tree, dressed from head to toe in black, close
to the wall where he was going in, focusing his chi, running step by
step through the task ahead of him in his mind.
He ran the length of the magiced bandanna through his hands, it
feeling strangely slick and tingly against his fingers as the sun set,
waiting for Robert and Helena, who had gone to check the house for any
unforeseen problems. Darius was with him, but had been so tapped by the
magic's he had woven the night before that he couldn't manifest.
They appeared around him.
"Let's go, boyo." Robert grinned at him.
He took a running start and leaped to the top of the wall.
"Go." Robert told him.
He leaped to the ground below and ran to the tree with the first
camera. The dogs came after him, and he did leap up and pull himself
over a tree branch well out of their reach as Helena worked her magic on
them again.
"Go on, Ryoga. I will have to stay with them until you're in the
house."
He dropped soundlessly to the ground, the dogs growling lowly, but
staying with Helena as he wove his way through the trees, avoiding
cameras.
He waited for Helena in the storage closet, Robert sticking his head
through the door, literally, as she appeared.
"All clear."
Ryoga stealthily moved down the hallways, Robert and Helena giving
him enough warning to hide the few times someone came towards them.
Finally he was at the stairway.
Robert and Helena moved down the hall, out of his sight. He heard a
crash, and both of the guards moved to investigate. He ran up the stairs
with noiseless steps. He took the guards at the hallway totally by
surprise and down without a sound.
Robert and Helena where on either side of him as he kicked the doors
to the room open and started his run, pulling the magiced bandanna and
starting it whirling.
Haiku and Tamura where kneeling in front of the Shinto priest, the
pair of bodyguards on the platform to their right.
Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. He was aware of the background
noise of the people in the hall starting to panic, but ignored it,
focusing all of his attention onto Haiku and the collar around her neck,
the lavender of it standing out against the white of her wedding gown.
Tamura whirled, stared at him, then pulled a gun from his sleeve. He
turned and shot the youngest of the bodyguard pair, who moved enough to
take the slug in his shoulder and not in his chest, then pointed the gun
at him.
(Fifteen more feet.) He flowed with the force of the first bullet
that hit him, it slammed into his right shoulder and he turned with it
without breaking stride.
(Just a little bit farther!) He cast the bandanna just as the second
bullet hit him, low in the chest. He kept his focus on the bandanna as
the impact staggered him backwards.
It hit the collar, then fluttered to the floor beside her. She
remained still, kneeling with her back to him. A thin line of red
stained the white of the silk at her neck, then the collar blackened and
shattered. The third bullet hit somewhere above his left hip, sending
him to the ground. He smiled as he saw her begin to change.
"Kill him for me." He whispered as he fell.
There was the sound of tearing silk then Hiku's bell-like roar
reverberated through the room. Tamura had enough time to turn his head
to stare into the face of the dragon before she tore into him.
Yamada moved to protect Shin, reaching for the gun that had flown
out of Tamura's hand. He pointed it at the Dragon, his hand trembling a
little as she scattered what was left of Tamura away from her with a
swat of a bloody foot.
Shin pulled his arm down. "Don't, you'll only make her madder." He
hissed. "Help me up."
The Dragon whirled and made a moaning sound as she leaped off the
platform to Ryoga, angling her head down so that the soft skin of her
nose was resting against his cheek.
"Hi." He whispered, trying to push away the pain. "Did you kill
him?" He asked, wondering why all of the ghosts where gathered around
them.
"Ryoga." She chimed, her voice full of terror for him as she took in
his wounds and the blood pooling around him. "Help, got to get you to
some help."
Her head whipped back up as a few of the guards finally managed to
pushed their way into the room through the panicked knot of guests who
where gathered at the doorway, trying to get out.
She hissed at them as they leveled their guns at her, gathering
herself to leap. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!" She screamed.
"NO!" Shin bellowed, causing everyone in the room, including Haiku
to freeze for a moment.
"Put them down." He commanded the guards.
"Do it!" He growled as they hesitated. They lowered the weapons,
accepting his authority. Yamada helped Shin to the Dragon as she turned
her attention back to her wounded lover.
"Get the doctor, now." Shin instructed one of the guards, who spoke
into his headset. "Then get these people out of here."
"Help is coming, Great Mother." He told her, holding on to Yamada.
"If he dies, you all die." She promised him flatly. "Any of you that
have my blood flowing in your veins."
Shin shuddered a little, knowing that it was in her power to do so,
and that she would.
She arranged herself around Ryoga, trying to lend him some of her
own warmth as his body grew cold with shock.
"Don't die, don't die." She whispered over and over, like a tinkling
wind chime into his ear.
He wanted to assure her that he wasn't going to, but it would take
too much effort to talk. It was just nice to lie here beside her. But it
would be nicer to go and lay in that brilliant white sunshine that
appeared behind her. He was so cold.
(No.) Darius held onto him.
"Let me go." He hissed as he struggled against him. He was so cold
and the light was so warm.
(Stay, Ryoga! Wait boyo.) Robert and Helena where ganging up on him
too.
"Come on guys. Just let me get warm and I'll come right back." He
pleaded with them.
(No!) They all chorused together and held him down. (Hiku's waiting
for you! Wait for Haiku!) All the ghosts where whispering at him now.
"O.K., O.K. Just shut up and let me rest for a minute." He took one
last longing look at the light, then slipped into a dark, quiet, pain
free place.
Shin stood beside the human shape of the Dragon, pale, his arm in a
sling facing all fifteen of his brothers and sisters who where huddled
in a tight knot before them, the men and boys in front of the women, in
the larger room that formed the ward of the house's hospital.
The door to the recovery room where Ryoga lay, so far still alive,
the monitors beeping reassuringly, having survived the surgery to repair
the damage his father's bullets had done to his body, behind them.
Yamada stood at his left shoulder, in the position of respect for a
body guard.
"What is this?" Sho, his older brother demanded, scowling.
"I summoned you here." Haiku told them.
"You? Who are you to summon us?" That was Kanai.
"I am the head of this family, now." She growled at them.
There was a murmur of protests from them.
She hissed, the sound unnerving coming from a human shaped throat,
silencing them all. "I gave birth to this house, and I will destroy it,
if it pleases me to do so."
"You have no right to command us. I am the oldest, the Family
belongs to me." Sho pulled himself up arrogantly as his hand whipped
behind his back, reaching for the gun holstered at the small of his
back.
He would kill this woman. He didn't believe for a second that she
was immortal or as powerful as his father had raved. He hadn't been at
the wedding, being assigned to guard the front doors instead, and the
report he had gotten from the rest of his family was nonsensical.
Haiku was a blur as she moved. She had learned from the last time
she faced men with guns. Her natural form presented to much of a target.
But she didn't need to change to kill this stupid one. When she stopped,
Sho was dead at her feet, his head resting at an unusual angle on his
neck.
Shin gulped and Yamada stepped in front of him. There where a few
muttered curses and stifled shrieks from the rest of them.
Kanai turned pale as he stepped away from the body of his brother
and the Dragon turned on him, her stare malevolent.
"Did you have something you wanted to say, child?" She asked him
calmly.
He shook his head violently.
"You will show me proper respect." She growled.
Kanai nodded, and bowed low. She glared past him to the others, who
all dropped into seiza and bowed deeply.
"Good. Shin will be my voice here. You will obey him, as you would
me. Do you understand?"
"Hai." They all chorused.
"Leave." She commanded.
They did.
"Oh, for goodness sake, Yamada, I'm not going to eat him." She
scowled at the older man as he moved to keep himself between her and
Shin as she moved back into the recovery room. "Unless he does something
stupid." She added under her breath.
"Shin, we need to talk." She called, beckoning to him from the far
side of the recovery room.
"Get someone to take Sho to the Temple." Shin whispered to Yamada.
"Don't go in there without me." Yamada begged him.
"She won't hurt me, Yamada." Shin assured him, knowing in his heart
that she wouldn't. "Now, do as I asked, please." He told his friend as
he went to the Dragon.
She was sitting in a chair by Ryoga, her hand resting lightly on the
one of his that wasn't attached to the IV, her eyes fixed on his pale
face.
"I don't care what you or this family does." She told him without
looking up. She knew that they where one of the influential Families of
the Yakuza.
"It is yours now, you may do whatever you want with it. I have only
three things I will demand of you. I want Chiba's book. You will scatter
Tamura's remains. I will know if you don't and will not be happy.
And as soon as Ryoga can travel and we leave this house, I don't
want you or any of this Family to come near me or mine. Do you
understand me?"
Shin nodded.
"Good." She smiled at him. "Now, sit down before you pass out."
Six weeks later.
They stood together in the grove, fingers interlaced. Ryoga brought
the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it as he released her,
leaving her standing by the pool as he walked to Helena's tree.
He placed his palm to the rough bark and she left him in a tingling
rush of power. He felt her ghostly kiss against his cheek as she passed.
Robert was next. He left humming with a (Nice to be back home, have
to do something about those branches, though.)
He swayed a little at Darius' exit, which was still much easier than
his entrance had been.
He stood for a moment feeling strangely empty and alone, then there
was a tickle at the back of his skull, on the inside. He reached up to
rub at it, then heard Helena's laughing whisper brush against his mind.
(We're still connected!)
(Figures.) Robert grumped.
(Interesting.) That was Darius. (It seems that we three are bound to
you now, Ryoga, until it's time for you to come home.) He sounded
surprised and somewhat amused.
Ryoga sighed and dropped his head and shook it slowly from side to
side. (I knew this was a bad idea.)
"Ryoga?" Haiku asked, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms
around his waist, careful to avoid the still tender bullet wounds.
(Don't worry, Ryoga! You won't even know we're here, unless you need
us, just like Haiku.) Helena assured him, then all three faded from his
awareness.
"It's nothing, Haiku." He assured her as he turned into her embrace
and leaned down to kiss her.
The trees rustled their approval around them.
Let Ranma have Akane. He had Haiku.
For now and forever.
***********************************************************************
Authors note!
One of my pre-readers said, "You know that Ryoga has a girl friend,
don't you?"
"No." I said.
"Yeah, she's into sumo pigs."
"Sumo pigs?" I said, trying to envision Ryoga in a traditional Sumo
loincloth. A yellow and black striped one. Gotta' admit, that's pretty amusing.
"Yep." My pre-reader said.
"Oh, foo." I said.
So I guess this will have to qualify as an Elseworlds, or whatever. Hope
you enjoyed it. There is another one coming, a little more in the vien
of the traditional Ranma 1/2 universe. Would anyone like to see the
adventures of this Ryoga continue?
Thanks for reading it!
If you want to rant or rave, please feel free to do so!
(And no, I am not Haiku.)
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