X-Originating-IP: [223.345.653.12]
From: "Dairya" (dairya@kakitanet.com)
To: "Toturi" (toturi@mask.net)
Subject: URGENT - PLEASE READ
Date: Tue, 10 Boa 1999 20:59:11 PDT
Mime-Version: 1.0

Toturi -

The Eye has opened.

It is only a matter of time before it will be seen.

The time for masks is over.

Your personal assistance is essential.

-Dairya

______________________________________________________
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I am Yashin. I am Ambition.

"Are you ready, Gusai-sama?" the Crane chuckled. The young priest seemed a pleasant enough host, but there was something disconcerting about him. His skin was stretched altogether too tight across his face, or his voice didn't quite match his lips. Something. His blue eyes burned at me with a feverish intensity, and I knew I could not refuse.

"Yes, Yajinden, I am ready."

"You realize the cost." His eyebrows rose slightly. He was telling me, in his way, that this was my last chance to back out.

"I am prepared to pay it, whatever the cost. My life and honor are only memories."

"A shame your assassin's poison wasn't deadlier, hm, Mantis?" Yajinden chuckled lightly under his breath.

My blood raced and words came to my lips like liquid fire. "You will not speak to me of that again, Crane. Judge me further and you will discover exactly how deadly I can be."

The Crane's lips pressed into a firm line as he swallowed his retort. "I am here to help you, Yurimanu," he said after a pause. "If I cannot speak openly with you, then how will I be able to assist you properly?"

The man turned and shuffled from the room, but I kept a close eye on him. I had heard that Asahina Yajinden was a pious and honorable man, but nothing of my brief personal experiences with him had led me to make that conclusion. He was wily, treacherous, and vindictive. There was far more here than the reclusive, studious shugenja he appeared to be. Unfortunately he was the sole ally I had left in the Emerald Empire. My family, my friends, everyone I had known of worth was dead or worse for my ambition. I followed after Yajinden. My hand moved reflexively to balance the grip of my katana, and found nothing. It had been taken and broken by the Emperor's men, and I had been ordered to execute myself via seppuku. I did not. I had other plans.

"I will need a new blade," I said.

"A weapon will be arranged," Yajinden replied, seeming to find the comment amusing.

A few monks with shaven heads passed in the other direction. They did not bow to Yajinden, though they quickly moved from his path in deference. I felt the same darkness in them as I had in the Crane, something fathomless and evil laying just beneath the surface. All around, I could smell a faint, coppery smell. I knew it from the battlefields as the stench of rotten blood. In Otosan Uchi? In the Temple of Amaterasu, where the greatest heroes of Rokugan had been laid to rest with honor and dignity? What had this place become? What had I become to come here?

"Tell me, Yurimanu," Yajinden said, rubbing his chin with a slender hand. "Do the clothes of a peasant chafe upon a daimyo's skin?"

I said nothing. The man was baiting me, goading me, trying to force my hand into doing something thoughtless. He wanted to test me, but I would not give him the pleasure. I merely followed, and said nothing.

"There is no hope for you in Rokugan, you realize," he said. "Even one with my resources cannot hide you forever, Gusai Yurimanu. The Fortunes themselves wish you dead."

"I do not wish to hide," I relied. "I only want revenge."

"Revenge?" the Crane chuckled and glanced back at me, a wild look in his eyes. "I'm afraid I already have my quota of revenge. Revenge, judgment, passion, all orders have been filled in abundance. All I need from you is your ambition."

Again, I said nothing. I feared the Crane had gone mad. If the rumors of his dark practices were true, madness was only inevitable for one such as he. I hoped he was not yet too far gone to be of use. We passed deeper into the temple, past scrolls and tapestries depicting the line of the Hantei Emperors. Their eyes seemed to follow me as I passed, haunting, accusing. I met each of their gazes and continued onward. The Hantei were nothing to me. A line of arrogant fools who had outlived their usefulness, who no longer knew how to govern properly. I learned too late where the true power lies, not in the throne but behind it. The Scorpion had detected my treachery almost before it had begun, but I never knew. The Scorpion cared nothing for the Emperor, only for the glory he had to gain by stopping the assassination.

"You committed the ultimate evil, you realize," Yajinden said mildly, as if discussing a matter of no import.

"In the Islands of Silk and Spice, ambition is considered a virtue," I replied. "To sit by idly while your destiny awaits is evil."

Yajinden chuckled. "You misunderstand me," he said. "Your failing was not to reach for the heavens." We reached the end of the hallway and the Crane turned. The wild fire in his eyes had become twin pools of darkness. I found myself riveted by his gaze, unable to move or look away. "Your error," he said, "Was that you failed. Do you understand that?" The hallway grew silent save for the sounds of distant chanting as Yajinden waited patiently for my response.

"Yes," I said, for it was the truth.

"There is still time to repair what you have done," Yajinden said. "Again I ask, are you prepared to pay the price?"

"I am prepared to give anything," I said. At the time, it was the truth.

Yajinden scowled. "Everything is not enough, Mantis. You must give me more." He turned and pushed open the chamber behind him. I reeled at the putrescent charnel odor that rolled over me as the door ground outward. Blood, rotten meat, and worse lurked in the shadows beyond, defiling this most holy place. Yajinden disappeared into the darkness beyond. My feet were rooted to the stone blocks of the floor. I knew that whatever lay in that chamber was an evil greater than any that my soul could ever imagine. If I passed in there, I would not return. I realized in that moment that there were worse things then death.

If only I had acted upon that wisdom. If only I had not followed. Somehow, I found the strength to move my legs to follow. As I passed into the darkness, I was seized from behind and gagged. My strength failed, choked away by the vapors soaked into the gag. My consciousness remained, and I knew from the mad glee in Asahina Yajinden's eyes that this had been his intent all along. He wished me to be aware of what would happen next, to witness every sensation and remember every experience to follow.

Pain is too feeble a word to describe what happened next. My body was torn away thread by thread. My soul was scorched and twisted, my bones ground and folded into molten steel. My blood was seared away, fuel for the magics that transformed me. Every drop that boiled built a thirst within me for what I had lost, driving me into realms of agony and madness beyond imagining.

My soul was left in shreds. Hope, love, reason, imagination, all were pulled asunder by the Crane's black claws. These things were not stolen from me but left hovering a hair away from my consciousness, forever out of reach. I was no longer a man. What I was, I do not know, but I was no longer Gusai Yurimanu, daimyo of the Mantis Clan.

As the pain began to recede, I saw my tattered corpse laying upon the floor of the black chamber. My new form reflected in its dead eyes and I saw that my soul was now encased in a wicked katana, blue steel glowing pale as a corpse thirsty for blood. The Crane had peeled my essence physically, spiritually, and emotionally, leaving only one thing to drive me.

"Finished," Yajinden said. As he overlooked his handiwork, a smile flickered in his eyes. "Of all my creations, you are the only one that is perfect. Vengeance will consume itself. Passion may fade. Judgment, when rendered, is no more. But ambition. Ambition endures forever. You are Yashin now, Gusai Yurimanu, now and forever. You are Ambition."

And so began fifteen hundred years of torment.

Kameru sat up with a gasp, the real world settling out of a haze around him. His brow was covered in a cold sweat and his breath was gone, as if he'd been running for a long time. The horror of the dream sank for a moment into his mind, then the memories scattered like leaves before a storm. Yajinden. Gusai Yurimanu. Who were these people? The dream seemed tattered and badly stitched around the edges, not like his normal dreams at all. Something felt wrong about it, as if it had been badly spliced together and thrown into his mind. His eyes fell on Doji Meda's sword, laying on the table nearby. It glinted blue in the morning sunlight.

"Kam?" Ryosei said, peering around the edge of the doorway. "Are you all right, Kam?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Ryosei," Kameru said. He smiled up at his sister. She had been so worried about him. She'd hovered near him like this for four days now, as if she expected him to disappear at any moment. He hadn't even considered asking her where she had vanished to before the coup, he was just glad to see she had returned. He turned and sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands. He stared at the Crane katana that lay before him. "I think I'm fine, anyway."

Ryosei frowned, pushing aside the shoji screen and stepping into the room. "If you feel sick or anything-"

"You worry too much, 'Sei," Kameru said with a chuckle.

"I know," she said, glancing at the floor. "I just... I just don't want anything to happen to you. Not after... after father."

"I know, Ryosei," Kameru said seriously. "I appreciate it, but you don't have to worry. If there's something wrong, I promise not to keep it bottled in like dad did." He rose slowly and tucked Meda's sword into his obi. "I'm not going to do anything like dad did," he promised. Ryosei crossed the room and hugged her brother. Kameru patted her gently on the shoulder.

"Have you written your speech yet?" she asked, brightening.

"Sorta," Kameru said. "I know what I'm gonna say. I think dad would approve."

"Good," Ryosei said. "That's great, Kameru. Good luck. I'll be rooting for you from the crowd."

"Thanks," he said. "I appreciate it, 'Sei."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" she said quickly. "Hoshi Jack came to the Palace this morning. I think he wants to talk to you."

"Good," Kameru said. "I think I could use some advice right now. Send him in, please."

Ryosei smiled reassuringly and nodded, ducking back out of the room. Kameru glanced in the mirror. He looked a wreck. He'd hardly slept since the coup. It was almost noon already and his advisors would be here soon. Between making preparations for his coronation, arranging his father's funeral, and begging him to make some sort of decision about the Crane they were dominating a lot of his time lately.

Too much to think about. Too many nightmares. Memories of his father haunted him. Shock at what Doji Meda had done echoed in his head. If the Emerald Champion could be a traitor, then who else was one? What bothered him most, however, was fear for what would become of Kamiko. She had shot the Jade Champion on national television. There was no way to pardon something like that. There was no way to excuse it. Was there? Still, he didn't feel any differently about her. He wished she could be here with him right now, to tell him what to do. There just wasn't any alternative left. Or was there? He was the Emperor, after all. Kameru sighed. He wondered if he would be the sort of Emperor Rokugan would need, or even want. He leaned heavily on his small dresser.

"It doesn't get any easier, I'm afraid."

Kameru turned about quickly and bowed to Hoshi Jack. "I'm sorry, I hadn't heard you enter, Shinsei-sama." Kameru was surprised; in his other meetings with Jack, he had seemed much taller. His aura of wisdom and inner strength had always seemed to billow outward and fill the entire room. Now, he seemed just a man. A tiny little man, ready to break apart and blow away in the wind at any moment.

"A man of faith learns stealth, if he be wise," Jack said with a dry laugh. "Those who truly need advice generally spend a lot of time trying to avoid people like us. And please, it's just Jack. Shinsei passed on to Yoma a long time ago, and though I fill his role I am not he. I can only pray that I uphold the wisdom of my ancestor."

"Of course, Jack-sama," Kameru said.

"And dispense with the titles, please," Jack laughed. "You are the Emperor of Rokugan. You needn't refer to a simple monk as 'sama'."

"If you say so, Jack," Kameru replied, smiling. The old monk had a simple and easy-going manner about him that Kameru found it difficult not to like. "Please, sit down."

Jack bowed politely and seated himself in a small plush chair Kameru indicated. Kameru seated himself in another chair nearby. "Would you like some tea?" the prince asked, ringing a small bell to summon a servant.

"No, thank you," Jack said. "I did not come here to drink tea, and I don't think you summoned me to watch me drink."

Kameru shook his head. "I didn't summon you, Jack."

"Indeed you did, Kameru," Jack replied, folding his hands in his lap. "You summoned me by necessity. My line goes where it is needed, and there is no one in Rokugan who needs my guidance more than you."

"Me?" Kameru asked, taking a teacup from a servant with a nod. "I thought it was your duty to gather the Seven Thunders."

"An important part of my duty, yes, but truth be told the Thunders generally do a good job of gathering themselves. I'm simply a guide. Along the way, I help people. Take you, for instance. You may be the most powerful man in Rokugan, but you've lost a great deal. Your father. Your friends. Even your name will soon be lost."

"I suppose it will," Kameru said. "I hadn't thought of that. It won't be official until tonight, but I guess I'm Yoritomo the Seventh now."

"An ironic number for the time of the Seven Thunders, no?" Jack said with a chuckle. "An appropriate one. The bloodlines of Rokugan have mixed and melded over the centuries, especially in the Mantis Clan which has ever sought to improve its station in every arena. Hida, Doji, Isawa, Otaku, Mirumoto, Matsu, Shosuro, the blood of all the Thunders runs in your veins. No man could be a more effective Emperor in these times, but you must maintain your focus. Tell me, Kameru, what do you believe in?"

Kameru paused with his cup halfway to his lips, unprepared for the question. "What do you mean, Jack?" he asked.

"When you have nothing else to turn to," Jack replied, "From where do you draw your strength? Why do you keep fighting when there is no other reason to fight?"

Minutes passed in silence as Kameru considered the question. In the gardens below, birds sang lazily to the midday sun. "My father," Kameru said. "I do what I do for my father. I would want him to be proud of me, even if I don't always follow the path he laid out for me. Especially if I don't follow the path he laid out for me."

Hoshi Jack cocked his head slightly. "Really. Is that all?"

Kameru was silent again. Immediately, he thought of Kamiko. Of course he couldn't say anything about her. She was a wanted criminal now, a traitor to the Diamond Throne.

"Kameru," Jack said. "The reasons why a person does what he or she does are as important as the actions themselves. If your actions are without purpose, then your actions are without value. Why do you want to be Emperor, Kameru?"

"I don't want to, but someone must," Kameru replied immediately. "Someone must restore peace to Rokugan. I just hope I don't end up walking in my father's footsteps. I'm proud of my father, but he left the Empire in a pretty bad state. Amijdal's still threatening to invade if we don't send Orin Wake back, and I haven't a clue what to do now that all of those other countries have surrendered to us. The Allied Senpet Nation, the Ivory Kingdoms, all of them are just waiting for some moment of weakness."

"So return Orin to them as a gesture of goodwill," Jack said. "He's an innocent man, is he not? You will soon be the Emperor, and he is your friend. Do it for your friend, if nothing else. A man who leads with his heart rules the hearts of those who follow him."

"He used to be my friend," Kameru said. "He doesn't trust me anymore, and he hates the Empire for what we've done to him. Ishihn and I were ready to discredit the Jade Champion to try to set him free but that ship has sailed. Maiko and Ishihn are both dead and now it's my decision to make. I think if he did go back, Amijdal would definitely declare war on us after hearing what Maiko and the Imperial Guard did to his family. I can't allow that, but I can't keep a friend in prison either. Can I make a choice here without making the wrong one?"

"I suppose we shall find out," Jack said. "Fear not, Kameru. For what it is worth, I will be with you. I will help you see this through to the end. I'm sure that my friends back at the monastery on Togashi Mountain won't appreciate that. Poor Hoshi Ma'ken has been hosting my television show for nearly a week in my absence. He has no clue what to do." Jack laughed quietly.

Kameru nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Jack," he said. He sat silent in thought for a time before speaking once more. "Jack, do you think my father did the right thing?"

Jack's bushy eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry, Kameru. I'm not certain what you're getting at."

"The war, the ultimatum, the fire dragon, all of it," Kameru said with a wave of his hand. "My father began all of this with a accusation of treachery that he never quite explained. Did he know the next Day of Thunder was coming? Was he trying to finish all of this before it began?"

Jack nodded and closed his eyes. "I would like to think so. I believe your father had only noble intentions. I did not know him, but his reputation precedes him. He was an honorable man, if a temperamental one."

Kameru scratched his short goatee with one hand, thinking of what to say next. "Well, was he right?" Kameru said. "Was he right to seek out an unknown enemy on his own terms, or did he simply make things worse?"

"I cannot read what might have been," Jack replied. "I can only say this. I have battled against darkness all of my life. In my experience, one does not seek evil. In doing so, you become what you most fear."

Kameru sighed. "Father didn't leave me an easy job, that's for sure."

"Another man's shoes never fit properly," Jack said with a small chuckle. "I think that is enough of an old man's cliche's for one day. Before I bore you to tears, I think I will have some tea."

Kameru summoned the servants once more. As the two waited, Jack turned toward the window, listening to the songs of the garden. "The birds have returned," he said. "The battle frightened them away, but already they have settled back into their familiar territories. The resilience of life is simply amazing."

"Speaking of birds," Kameru said. "What happened to your crow?"

"Hm?" Jack replied, glancing back at the young emperor.

"Shinsei and the Hooded Ronin are always depicted with a crow," Kameru replied. "You don't have one. I was wondering about that. Is the crow a literal thing or is it just a symbol?"

Jack drank his tea quietly, a troubled look crossing his ancient features. "Both," he said. "My original descendant, the first Shinsei, came to the people of Rokugan to help them in their battle against the dark kami, Fu Leng. In those times, the Shadowlands were young. No one, not even the Crab, truly knew the extent of Jigoku's power. Only one creature was brave enough to scout the Shadowlands for Shinsei."

"The crow?" Kameru asked.

"No," Jack answered. "There were no crows in those times. His call was answered by the dove. After many days, the dove returned, but its feathers had become as black as midnight from the terrors it had seen. The other doves would have nothing to do with this bird. That was the first crow, named by Shinsei for the mournful cry its song had become. Afterwards, the crow perched on Shinsei's shoulder always, forever guarding him from the darkness with its hard earned wisdom."

"And where is your crow?" Kameru asked.

"Gone," Shinsei said, his eyes upon his tea. "I have sensed it. I have called for it, but it has not come. What this portends, I do not know. Perhaps my powers are incomplete? Perhaps we shall have to rely upon our own wisdom this time? A hard thing to ask of us. Fu Leng made his presence known, but Jigoku's current has not even deemed to show us his face. His touch is known, to be sure. No doubt his machinations launched the Badger's assassination attempt, Doji Meda's Coup, and possibly even the Senpet Invasion. Whoever he is, whatever he is, it is powerful and its influence is everywhere."

A thousand questions sprang to Kameru's head. Who was their enemy? What would be the threat that the Seven Thunders must stand against this time? Who were the Seven Thunders? What would happen if they did not succeed? How could he help? All of these questions would have to wait, as the door of Kameru's chamber suddenly opened. A small army of advisors entered the room, wearing the colors of nearly every clan. They gathered a respectful distance from Kameru and bowed in unison.

"Kameru-sama," said Tsuruchi Shinden. He was the younger brother of Tsuruchi Kyo, and whip thin like his missing sibling. "If you have a moment, I'd like to go over the security procedures for this evening's ceremony."

"Lord Kameru," said Daikua Mokin, a plump and pompous Mantis diplomat. "I would like to discuss the peace treaty with the Crane. I believe that Asahina Munashi would be most receptive to any terms you have to offer. He is a most honorable man."

"Bah," barked Kitsu Tono, advisor to Matsu Gohei. "The Crane deserve nothing of peace! Kameru, General Gohei tires of this senseless siege. The Lion await your order to attack Dojicorp."

"And start a war anew within the city? Preposterous!" argued Shiba Minoko, a Phoenix Caretaker and ambassador to the court. "Yoritomo-sama, there is still the matter of the ultimatum. There is still time to sow peace. Surely you don't plan on carrying your father's misguided war to fruition?"

"Kameru, if you have a moment," interjected Soshi Roshin, a pale young fashion designer. "I'd like you to try on your kimono for tonight's ceremony. Your specifications were more extreme than I'm used to, but I think I really created something here. I just want to make sure it brings out your complexion properly." He held forth a bright white cotton garment.

Kameru glanced about the crowd, trying desperately to get a word in edgewise. All of them wanted something from him, all of them were fighting to drown each other out so he would hear only their demands. He saw one pair of eyes near the door, one pair that was simply watching and waiting.

"Heichi Tetsugi," Kameru said sharply. "Get all of these people out of here. Tell them I must prepare for my father's funeral and the coronation. After the ceremony, I'll speak to each of them in turn."

Tetsugi blinked in surprise. The Imperial Magistrate was unused to receiving commands from Kameru, but his hesitation evaporated quickly. "All right, people," he said, circling in front of the crowd with his arms outstretched. "The Emperor is a busy man. I apologize, but all of you will just have to get out."

The crowd grumbled and argued, but Kameru was no longer their target. Tetsugi received each of their comments and veiled insults in turn, and gradually pushed them all back out into the hallway, physically when he had to. Soon, only Kameru, Jack, and Tetsugi remained in the chamber.

"Thank you, Tetsugi," Kameru said. "That will be all."

The Boar magistrate nodded and bowed deeply to Kameru. He turned to bow to Jack as well, but paused. A brief flicker of recognition seemed to pass between the two, but then it was gone. Tetsugi bowed to Shinsei's descendant and exited the chamber to organize the Emperor's advisors.

"I think it's going to be a long day," Kameru said, sinking back into his chair.

"For the Emperor, every day is a long day," Jack replied.

Jared Carfax flipped through his newspaper and sipped his coffee. It was the little things, really, that made life worth living. Coffee in Rokugan was awful, more awful even than that green tea they insisted on drinking. It was still coffee, though, and it reminded him of home. He hadn't been home in a long time. Jared finished up his coffee and folded the newspaper under his arm. He knew everything that was in it already, but he liked to read anyway. He headed for the front counter to pay his tab. The waitress and the bus boy were having a quiet discussion when he arrived.

"They say Amiko is really sick," the waitress said. Her eyes were red from worry and exhaustion. "Really sick."

"Will she be okay?" the bus boy asked quickly. "Will the baby make it?"

"They'll both be fine," Jared said. "The baby will grow up to be a captain in the Imperial Guard."

The waitress and bus boy looked at him in bewilderment. Jared just shrugged. "Sorry about my accent," he said. "I do my best. I'm gonna give you a twenty hyakurai bill so I can get a five back, is that okay?"

"Um... yeah," the waitress said, still giving him an odd look. She took his check and gave him his change. "Thank you very much."

"You have a good day, Teruyo," Jared said. She nodded. She hadn't been wearing a name-tag.

Jared stepped back out onto the street and took a deep breath. The wind swirled about him. Of course it did. The wind was always happy to see him. He began to whistle as he walked, strolling aimlessly through the streets. He didn't have any particular place to go today, but he liked to walk. A destination would come to him eventually. One always did.

Down the street, a dark haired little girl with a brightly colored ball looked up at Jared and giggled. She tossed the ball into an alley and hurried off after it. The sound of trash cans crashing into each other followed. Jared looked around, but no one else seemed to have heard. Hoping she wasn't hurt, Jared broke into a jog and ducked into the alley.

"Hello?" he called out. "Little girl, are you all right?" The wind surged about him, ready for his command, but Jared was careful to leave his power unused. He saw nothing, no sign of the girl. Only debris from the fallen trash cans lay in the alley. He stepped further in, peering about curiously.

"Hello there, Carfax," said a voice from behind him.

"Stones," said another.

Something heavy hit Jared in the base of the skull. He fell forwards into the garbage, but rolled around quickly, prepared to summon forth his power. "Lightn-"

"Silence."

Carfax gagged as the breath was torn from his lungs. If he couldn't speak, he couldn't command the elements. He was as helpless as a mortal. On his hands and knees, he looked up at his attackers. The little girl stood with her ball under one arm. Behind her stood a tall man with nearly ebony skin. He wore the ancient armor of a Crab samurai, but it was broken here and there by stalagmites that grew from his body. Their eyes glowed with a menacing light.

"Stop struggling, Carfax, it's insulting," the girl said. "You're weaker than I to begin with and you certainly can't stop two of us. I'm going to let you speak now, but keep in mind: if you try anything foolish, it won't be the first time I've killed an Oracle."

"Y- you..." Carfax found his voice returning slowly. He didn't dare try to summon the lightning again, or he knew they would be more thorough this time. "You're..."

"Sen, Dark Oracle of Air," the little girl said. "This is Hida Kunisada, Dark Oracle of Earth. Since we're in town, I thought we might pay you a visit. Call it professional courtesy. Call it a warning. Whatever." She bounced her ball and caught it again.

"Are you going... to kill me?" Jared said hoarsely. He rose to his feet again, preparing to fight.

"Kill you?" Sen rose one eyebrow. "What would the point be in doing that? It would be a waste of energy. If I kill you, Yoma will create a replacement. I'll have to kill that one, too, and then I'll get nothing done for killing Oracles all day. Better to keep you alive and intimidated. Which you should be. I've been an Oracle for six hundred years, and I'm quite capable of kicking your sorry gaijin ass." The little girl smiled brightly, but her glee didn't reach her ancient, evil eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Carfax asked. "Why are you in the city?"

"Why should I tell you?" she asked.

"You follow the same rules we do," Carfax smiled. "I get one question."

Sen tossed her hair back and rose an eyebrow. "Of course you do," she said. "We're looking for the stone. Our stone."

Carfax was irritated. That answer hadn't been as helpful as he'd hoped. He tried a different tactic. "And you," Carfax said to Kunisada. "Where are the other Dark Oracles?"

Kunisada coughed, the sound of two great boulders grinding together. "All but Void have been here or will be soon," he said. "They have felt the stone awaken."

"Now," Sen said. "Our turn. Where in this town can I find one who would call himself a kolat?"

Carfax's mind swirled as the answer formed before him. "Bayushi's Labyrinth," he said.

"And how many of your Oracle friends are in the city?" Kunisada rumbled.

"Earth and Fire are here," he said. He cursed himself. Sometimes he hated being an Oracle.

"Well," Sen said happily. "Thank you for your help, Carfax. By the way, stay out of our way. And tell your friends to do the same. Come, Kunisada." She skipped off down the alley.

Kunisada cocked his head slightly. "Avalanche," he said as he turned to walk away.

The walls surrounding Jared Carfax suddenly cracked and shook. For lack of a mountain to fulfill the Dark Oracle's request, the surrounding buildings were preparing to crush him. "Tornado!" Carfax shouted desperately. The wind roared, whipping around him in a turbulent column that threw the debris and rubble away before it could fall. After several moments of crashing rocks and howling wind, the alley settled back into a relative calm. Jared Carfax stood in the midst of a heap of rubble, his white suit now torn and dirty. He quickly darted to the street and looked both ways.

The Dark Oracles were gone.

"Damn it," he cursed. "Just damn it all to Jigoku. Why did they have to show up now?" He turned back the way he had come and started looking for a telephone.

In a simple cell in the deepest levels of the Diamond Palace, Orin Wake read. The book was a hard cover mystery novel, the latest work of Kitsuki Iimin. It was an awful, convoluted thing full of unlikely conspiracies and far too many characters to make any sort of coherent sense. One of the guards had tossed it into his cell an hour ago in a rare moment of pity. It wasn't much, but it was better than staring at the walls of Level Zeta and slowly going mad.

"Hey, gaijin!" shouted a voice. Orin looked up. In the cell directly to the right of his own stood a young girl with spiky green hair. She had been brought in earlier that day for reasons he didn't know or care about. She wore the same slate grey, long-sleeved prison shirt and baggy pants as Orin, but had her shirt unbuttoned and tied up around her waist to show off her midriff and cleavage. She might have been pretty, but Orin thought she looked a bit like an idiot. If it weren't for the hair, her attitude, and the fact that Orin Wake wasn't particularly fond of anything related to the Diamond Empire right now.

Orin looked back at his book.

"Hey, gaijin, where did you get the book?" she demanded. The girl stood at the very edge of her cell, just behind the invisible barrier of air and void kami that kept the prisoners contained. All the prisoners here knew full well what would happen to them if they tried to pass through that barrier. The guards with Level Zeta clearance - the only ones who could pass through the fields - liked to demonstrate from time to time on newspapers or chunks of ham. Sometimes the debris flew twenty feet.

Orin looked up slowly. "My name isn't gaijin," he said. "It's Orin. Orin Wake."

"What kind of name is that?" she giggled.

"It's a Yodatai name," he said. "It means 'The Lord of the House.' As in 'The lord was in the house ruling three quarters of the world while your ancestors were grubbing in the rice fields.' Leave me alone."

"I'm Meliko," she announced, placing one hand on her chest proudly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I can't stop you," Orin said blandly.

"If the Yodatai were so great then why are they all dead now?"

Orin looked up again, irritated. The girl hadn't said anything else to him since she'd arrived, but she already ranked among the most annoying people he'd ever met. "Who in Kharsis' name are you?"

"Like I said, I'm Meliko," she said, bouncing and smiling.

"He means what are you doing here," grumbled Ishio from his cell further down the hall. He was the only other resident of Level Zeta, a big Daidoji bushi. He proudly claimed to be the only member of the Crane coup that the Mantis captured alive. He lay back against one wall of his cell, one arm hanging in a sling where it had taken a Wasp bullet. The Asako doctors had tended to the Crane's wounds with their standard level of care and expertise. Ironically, Ishio expected to be executed within the week. He looked forward to it, in fact. With stoic pride, he boasted to anyone who would listen how he planned to spit in the faces of the Imperial Guard as they threw the switch and die screaming Doji Meda's name.

"Oh," Meliko said. "Well, I'm just a tourist. This was all a mistake."

"A mistake doesn't get you to Level Zeta," Ishio said wryly. "This is the sort of place where they throw you in and forget you. Orin over there's a political prisoner and I'm a rebel. What did you do?"

"Um..." she rolled her eyes upward as she chose the words. "Well, if you're ever thinking of stealing a helicopter and landing it on the roof of the Diamond Palace? Even just for kicks? Don't. The Wasp Clan has very little sense of humor about that kind of thing."

"Moron," Orin said, not looking up from the book. "You're lucky they didn't just shoot you."

"I think they thought I was cute," she smiled brightly.

"How sad," Orin replied.

Meliko frowned. "Yeah, well, like I said. No sense of humor. Just like you."

"Well, it could be that," Ishio laughed. "Then again, maybe like Orin said you're just a moron."

Meliko blinked. Her small face tied up into an angry frown. "I'm a moron?" she said, cocking her head in disbelief. "For your information, I am a mighty boulder in the river of history! I part great waters! I'm gonna be remembered! And you, Daidoji? You're just, like, a pebble so lay off."

Ishio laughed out loud for several moments. "Screw you, heimin," he said finally.

"Yeah, you wish," she said, folding her arms and pouting. "Yet another witty rejoinder from the Esteemed House of the Crane."

Orin closed his eyes for a moment. He was starting to get a headache. Whether it was from Meliko or just a coincidence, he couldn't tell.

"Wake?" Meliko called out softly. "Wake, you never answered my question."

"Call me Orin," Orin said with forced patience. "Our family names come last in my country."

"Sorry," she said. "Orin, you never answered my question."

"What question?" he said. His head throbbed.

"Where did you get that book?" she asked. "Those guards didn't let me keep anything. They frisked me really thoroughly."

"I'll bet," said Ishio. "I'll frisk you thoroughly."

"Shut up, Crane," she said.

"One of the guards gave it to me," Orin said, intercepting their argument. "He said he was through with it."

"Well, that was nice of him," she said. "I wonder if the guards would give me anything?"

Ishio laughed out loud again.

"I said shut up, Crane," she snapped.

Orin said nothing. He had his suspicions of where the guards preferential treatment of him had originated. Lately his meals had improved in quality and they were leaving his electricity on at night. It had to be Kameru. The prince was trying to help him in any way he could, pulling strings for him to make his captivity more comfortable.

Orin wondered if Yoritomo VI had really died. Daidoji Ishio claimed to have seen the Emperor collapse in the throne room. Obviously the Crane coup hadn't succeeded or Ishio wouldn't be down here right now, but it was still possible that Kameru was Emperor now. Orin hoped so. As vehemently as he'd anticipated his martyrdom the last time Kameru had visited him, he really preferred freedom. He just wanted to go home to Amijdal and forget all about Rokugan, the place that had killed his father, taken away his friends, and ruined his life.

Orin yawned, and his stomach turned slightly. Odd for him to be so tired this early in the day, if it was even early. With no television, radio, or clocks you could lose track of time easily down here. Suddenly the wall of red beams at the end of the corridor vanished and a trio of Wasp Guardsmen marched into the hallway. Orin didn't recognize any of them, nor did he see the guard that always stood on the other side of the beams. Curious, for such a high security area. They approached his cell, looking directly at him.

"Who are you?" he called out. "Where are the usual guards?"

"Orin Wake?" said the leader. He was a pale man with very dark eyes and sharp features. The men flanking him were large and looked very similar to one another, with dark suits and black sunglasses. All three wore large pistols openly holstered on their belt like Amijdali cowboys.

"Who wants to know?" Orin asked. He rose to his feet. He felt a little sluggish as he moved, as if he'd just been sleeping. The hard cover book felt heavy in his hands.

"That's the book," the guard on the right said. "It's him." The guard immediately drew his pistol and pointed it at Orin.

Confused and numb, Orin's thoughts raced. He felt his reflexes dull, preventing him from dodging properly. He knew then that he had been drugged. Strange, that. The guards always searched the food thoroughly. After all, no one had any business killing the prisoners on Level Zeta except the Emperor himself. He staggered, and the heavy book slipped from his hands.

"Before you die, Amijdali scum," the Wasp said. "Know that Rokugan is only the beginning. The Stormbreaker will consume the world, and your death is the next step on that path." He clicked back the hammer on his pistol and fired.

The shot went wild as the Wasp suddenly was kicked from behind. A spray of blood erupted as the Wasp tumbled forward into the tetsukami field of Orin's cell. The Wasp slumped to the ground, decapitated. The remaining two men whirled about angrily, pistols drawn.

"Hi," said Meliko, standing in the hallway behind the fallen Wasp.

"Yoma's Fire!" cursed one of the Wasps, firing on the girl immediately.

Meliko stepped aside in a blur of motion, appearing behind the rear Wasp and grabbing the sides of his head in both hands. With a twist and a sickly crack, he fell to the floor as well. The remaining Wasp took advantage of her immobility, backhanding her across the face with the butt of her pistol. She stumbled back against the steel wall and slid to the floor.

"Who are you?" he asked, taking a step back and keeping his gun solidly trained on the girl. "How did you escape your cell?'

Meliko looked up with blood on her chin. She grinned and slowly rolled up her shirtsleeve. A metallic hornet was tattooed on her bicep, swirling in a cloud of glistening mist. "I'm special," she said.

"An ise zumi!" the Wasp said, his eyes wide in shock.

"Your Stormbreaker doesn't have a monopoly on the shadows, traitor," she giggled lightly as she leaned back against the wall. "Kill me if you want. I know you won't miss. Kill Orin, too. I can't stop you. Hell, kill Ishio if you like. But remember this day. Remember that the Dragon are waiting for you, and never stop looking over your shoulder."

"Damn straight! That goes for the Crane, too!" Ishio called out from his cell. The Wasp gave him a sideways look and the Crane quieted down. He clicked back the hammer of his pistol.

Orin lunged. Exhausting the last bit of strength the drugs had left him, he seized up the detective novel from the floor and hurled it at the Wasp. The paper and heavy cardboard was immediately shredded by the tetsukami field, spraying the Wasp's head and shoulders in a fountain of shredded paper and cardboard shrapnel. He was distracted only a fraction of a moment, but then Meliko moved. She thrust her shoulder into the man's stomach, sending him flying backward with awesome force. He fell through the door of Meliko's former cell. His scream was brief. What was left of his body landed in a cloud of red mist on the other side of the doorway.

"Nasty," Meliko said, looking down at the blood staining her shirt and chest. "And I wanted to keep this shirt."

Orin collapsed with a thud, no more strength left in his body. The room started to go black.

"Whoops, I was supposed to save that guy," Meliko said out loud. She quickly trotted over to Orin's cell and held one hand out to the tetsukami field. "Little brothers, little sisters, let me pass," she said. "It's me, Meliko." She stepped into the cell with no difficulty and wrapped one arm around Orin's shoulders.

"Wha?" he said, looking into her golden eyes in confusion.

"Togashi Meliko," she smirked. "I'm a warrior of the Hidden Dragon and I'm here to rescue you."

"Woo-hoo!" Ishio cheered from down the hallway. "That's showin' 'em! Stick it to the Man!

"Too late for that," Orin said. His breath was coming in gasps now, and his face was covered in a cold sweat. "The book was covered in contact poison. I was dead before they got here, they just came to gloat."

Meliko looked back at the shredded book. "Poison?" she said. Her nose wrinkled. "Poo. I should have thought of that. I'm sorry, Orin, I'm sort of new at this." She stood up, hefting the gaijin's massive bulk with difficulty. "Don't worry, Orin. I've got some friends that can help you. We just have to hurry." She staggered out of the cell, dragging Orin with her. Once again, the tetsukami field parted to let their little Togashi sister and her charge pass unharmed. They slowly made their way to the end of the hall. The usual Mantis guard posted there lay unconscious on the floor.

"Hey!" called out Ishio from behind them. "You just gonna leave me here, Meliko?"

Meliko glanced back at the Crane. "I thought you wanted to be a martyr," she said.

"Ha!" the Crane said. "Only if I don't have a choice!" "I thought you said I was a moron," she added.

"I didn't mean it!" he said. "C'mon, I'm sorry!"

"Didn't you make some sort of perverse comment about frisking me?" she said, cocking her head.

"And the offer still stands!" he said. "C'mon! They're gonna kill me!"

Meliko sighed. She turned toward the door again, staggering a little as she dragged Orin.

"Hey!" Ishio shouted desperately. "You planning on carrying him all the way out of here by yourself? I've only got one good arm but I'll give you a hand!"

Meliko looked at the heavy, nearly unconscious gaijin. "Well, in that case, sure," she said. She set Orin down gently and trotted over to open Ishio's cell.

"Damn, thanks," the Daidoji said, bowing to the girl gratefully. "I didn't think there were any more Dragons. You sure picked the right time to show back up."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" she grinned. She jogged back over toward Orin. Ishio followed barely a step behind.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Ishio asked, helping Meliko pull Orin to his feet once more. "The trick with the tetsukami was impressive but it's not going to get us past the palace gates."

"We're not leaving the Palace," Meliko replied. "We're going to the Factory."

Rojo sat back in the elaborate scanning machinery of the Togashi Mountain Factory. Gears and machinery spun all about his small chair. The hairs on the backs of his arms stood up, risen by the presence of so many busy kami in one place. The Factory here was ten times as elaborate and powerful as the one beneath the Diamond Palace in Otosan Uchi. After two days of meeting nothing but frustration there, Hisojo had transferred Rojo here. He felt as if the power of the spirits was rushing through his veins. It made him feel alive. He knew the power of one spirit in particular was running through his skull. That one he could do without.

"Anything?" Rojo asked.

Hisojo sighed and shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "I don't understand it. Neither my conventional scanning equipment or the tetsukami magical sensors can find the tetsukansen. It's as if it just wasn't there. As if it were masking itself somehow. Perhaps... perhaps Saigo was wrong? Perhaps it ceased to function so long ago that there is nothing left now?"

"No," Rojo said. "The prophet was right. He had to be. There are too many coincidences. I've lost control far too often."

"Er, no," Hisojo said with a laugh. "You're wrong. Ichiro Chiodo lost control. He walked into Dojicorp with a Senpet automatic rifle and a deathwish. You've merely developed a temper. For one with such a stoic and driven mind such as yourself that's no mean feat, granted, but I don't think you're about to begin murdering children in the Stormbreaker's name. Perhaps... perhaps that's it? Perhaps it hasn't ceased to function at all?"

"What?" Rojo replied. "What do you mean?"

"I suspected as much from the start," Hisojo replied. "These tetsukansen are not mind control devices. If such were so, we would have no chance. The Stormbreaker could replace anyone, at any time, with a willing and undetectable pawn. By the Fortunes, I could be a conspirator. Lord Hoshi could be a conspirator. Luckily, such does not seem to be the case. The tetsukansen do not direct action, they simply enhance it."

"Enhance it?"

"Please, Rojo, stop parroting my every word. I'm getting to the point," Hisojo said. "What I mean is that the tetsukansen are not puppeteers, but advisors. They encourage evil. They reward it. They make it seem like the only obvious choice. After time, such choices begin to become second nature. You end up with a person like Tsuruchi Kyo. He may have been an honorable man, once, but in the end he was twisted completely to the Stormbreaker's will."

"Could that happen to me?" Rojo asked, worried. "Could I be turned against the Dragon?"

"Rojo," Hisojo said with a sigh. "Do you remember Project: Mifune?"

"Vividly," Rojo said with a pained look. "I spent two weeks hiding in the snow outside Shiba Castle spying on Mifune, all because Lord Hoshi thought that he might be a kolat. I nearly lost my toes to frostbite before we learned the truth."

"Exactly," Rojo said. "Anyone with that degree of loyalty isn't going to be shaken by anything. Not even by an evil cyborg implant nestled in their cerebral cortex. I'm sorry, Rojo, but you're just too stubborn to become a minion of evil."

Rojo nodded obediently.

"Disappointed?" Hisojo asked. "If you'd like, I'm sure we can still arrange for your seppuku. I can talk to Lord Hoshi right away."

"I don't think that will be necessary," he replied with a small smile. "Hisojo, do you think that it can be removed?"

"It would be risky," Hisojo said. "Remember, it's still a kansen, a dark spirit. If it knows we're trying to undo it, it may simply animate the metal components of its shell and shred your brain, much like one of those odd in-the-egg scrambler devices that annoying Yasuki Garou tries to sell on television."

"Well, that was a graphic image," Rojo blinked.

"I've been watching too much television," Hisojo replied. "If you don't mind, Rojo, I'd like you to remain in the scanning chamber for a few more minutes. There's some more data I'd like to collect."

Rojo nodded and sat back once more. Hisojo stepped outside the machinery, a worried expression on his aging features. One thing was still worrying him. Rojo had become implanted, that seemed certain. But how? How could such a thing be? The Hidden Dragon remained well outside Rokugan society. In their secret identities they were non-persons, heimin or minor samurai of negligible status. It was unthinkable that someone would waste a tetsukansen on someone like Rojo, unless they had so many of them that they were just randomly implanting everyone. No, that was just silly. A change in behavior on that scale would never go unnoticed. But what was the alternative? The truth settled on Agasha Hisojo like a black shroud.

"You think there may be a traitor among you," said a voice in Hisojo's head.

The old Dragon turned around. He didn't show any sign of surprise whatsoever at the presence of the large, shadowy figure. "Lord Hoshi," he said, bowing.

Hoshi returned the bow. "You believe there is a traitor among the Hidden Dragon," he said. "You believe that Rojo was betrayed and implanted. You wonder how such a thing could possibly have escaped my knowledge."

Hisojo nodded. "The thought had crossed my mind. I thought you were omniscient, Lord Hoshi."

"Not quite," Hoshi replied. "You crafted me well, my friend, but not that well. I know as much as my blood allows."

"And that is quite a bit, considering your genetic heritage," Hisojo replied. "A traitor is the only explanation."

"Indeed," Hoshi said. "This is known to me."

"Then who is the traitor?"

"I am," Hoshi replied.

Hisojo's face was expressionless. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"A necessary evil," Hoshi replied. "Months ago, I learned of the tetsukansen. I felt them as they were created, and knew them to be a threat of unimaginable proportions. The technology that fuels them advances exponentially. They are not yet the puppeteers you fear, but they will be. I wanted to observe their progress, test the limits of their abilities."

Hisojo scratched his thin moustache with one hand. "So you created a tetsukansen," Hisojo said. "You did it here. You used the Factory to synthesize one, and you implanted Rojo."

"Yes," Hoshi said. "I am sorry, but it was the only way. I knew that he, of all of us, would be strong enough to bear the burden."

"But what of what we've lost?" Hisojo asked, suddenly angry. "The tetsukansen monitor as well as influence! All the work Rojo has done, all of the things he has seen? All of it, betrayed to our enemies! Why?"

"We cannot hide from destiny," Hoshi said. "The Stormbreaker would have found us in time."

"To blazes with destiny!" Hisojo shouted. "How could you do such a thing, Hoshi? We're fighting a war here! Have you learned nothing from the lesson of Ishinomori? Our only weapon is secrecy! Now we no longer even have that. What if the Stormbreaker's spies have compromised Togashi Mountain?"

"The Mountain is unimportant," Hoshi replied. "You and I are unimportant. Only the Day of Thunder is important. Only the defeat of Jigoku should be foremost in our minds."

"Hoshi, thousands of Dragon lives depend upon our security here," Hisojo spat. "Tell me something. In your enlightened wisdom, did you ever happen to consider this? If the Dragon Clan dies, then what good does it do to win the Day of Thunder? If all of us are destroyed, what does it matter if we win or lose?"

Hoshi said nothing for a long moment. He simply looked at Hisojo with pain in his odd, ancient eyes. "You do not understand," he said. "The conquest of Jigoku extends beyond the mere physical world. If we lose, all is lost. You cannot understand what eternity means."

"And you cannot understand mortality," Hisojo said. "You've gained much from your divine blood and your almighty connection to the power of Yoma. But have you ever come to think of what you've lost?" Hisojo whirled about and stormed out of the Factory, his green and red robes flaring out in an angry wave behind him.

Lord Hoshi stood alone in thought, silent and inscrutable.

Godaigo stumbled downstairs into the diner. Shotai's wasn't very crowded today. Even Shotai was out, which was rare. Most of the Army was out monitoring the streets or doing something with Ginawa down at Golden Sun Bay. The doctor made his way to his favorite booth and collapsed, exhausted. Across from him sat Mikio, the only high-ranking officer of the Army still in attendance at Shotai's. The heavy-set mechanic claimed to descend from the Kaiu family, and certainly had the build for it. He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and waved amiably.

"Morning, doctor," he said. "How's things?"

"Terrible," Godaigo said, burying his face in his hands. "Dairya is the most impossible patient I've ever known."

"That would be Dairya," Mikio said. "I've known the guy for a long time, and he's never taken anything lying down. Must be driving him crazy, stuck up there in that bed like that."

"To say the least," Godaigo said. Between the surly ronin and the Army's other regular flow of wounded, the doctor had far more than he could handle. Tokei lent a hand with his magic sometimes, but he knew nothing of medicine and ended up just getting in the way as often as not.

"Well, if anyone will recover it'll be him," Mikio said. "We Crabs are built tough."

Godaigo looked up curiously. "Crab?" he said. "Dairya's not a Crab."

Mikio stopped chewing for a moment. "Oops," he said. "Forget sometimes we're not supposed to talk about that kind of thing."

"Wait, no," Godaigo shook his head in confusion. "Dairya can't possibly be a Crab."

"Eh," Mikio shrugged. "Well, since the cat's out of the bag anyway... Well, I used to be a Seeker, you know that." He indicated the single eye tattoo on one massive bicep, the badge of the Seekers. "Well, I went on a few missions with him. He was Yasuki Kaii back then. He wasn't a Seeker, mind you, but he was Yasuki Special Ops. Next best thing. You must be thinking of someone else."

"No, I'm quite certain," Godaigo said. "Dairya was a Tsuruchi. I knew him before the Army." He realized he was walking on dangerous ground here. Toturi's Army members weren't supposed to discuss one another's pasts without permission, and Dairya had never given it.

"Hm," Mikio said. He shrugged and looked back at his eggs. "Well, whatever. Probably something to that, but none of my business. Dairya's a good man."

"I suppose so," Godaigo said, uncertain.

The doors of the diner opened with a creak. They'd been designed to, in fact. Shotai's wasn't the sort of place you went unless you were expected. Mikio and Godaigo both glanced up to see a pair of strangers in dark coats enter, the sort of coats no one in Little Jigoku had the money to buy. They both wore masks; one was bright red porcelain and the other was a rubber elephant face. Scorpions.

"Damnit, Ginawa would have to pick the day the Scorpions show up to go watch the ships come in," Mikio mumbled.

"Hello," the smaller Scorpion said in a polite voice. "Can either of you gentlemen help us?"

"We're closed, gentlemen," Mikio said sternly. The big mechanic rose from his chair. The big ex-Crab hesitated for half a moment when he realized that the larger Scorpion was nearly a four inches taller than he was. He hovered just behind the smaller man with an aura of quiet menace. Mikio had seen Scorpion Enforcers before, and if this wasn't one of them then he was a Crane.

"We're not hungry," said the Scorpion. "My name is Bayushi Oroki. We're here looking for a friend." Oroki looked about the room calmly and without concern. The Enforcer, on the other hand, continued to monitor Mikio and Godaigo carefully.

"Your friend isn't here," Mikio said. "Get out."

"Oh, yes he's here," Oroki chuckled, turning toward Mikio with amusement in his eyes. "His name is Soshi Zeshin, though you may have known him as Yasuki Kaii? Tsuruchi Danbe? Maybe Kakita Tanaka? Or... or perhaps you know him as Dairya?"

Godaigo and Mikio said nothing.

Oroki laughed lightly. "Dairya? Deryah? I'm sorry, am I pronouncing the name right? Diarrhea?"

"How the hell do you know about Dairya, Scorpion?" Mikio asked. He took a step forward. Zou immediately moved between Mikio and Oroki, holding a large hand out in warning.

"Have you been spying on us?" Godaigo asked. Mikio slowly began to reach for the concealed pistol holstered at his back, but stopped when the Enforcer narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Spying?" Oroki asked, badly feigning insult. "I'm astonished, my dear Godaigo. How little you must think of me. Mikio, stop reaching for the gun. You'll upset Zou. It's not nice to upset Zou, he just got out of the hospital."

"You know our names?" Godaigo said. "How do you know our names?"

"Dairya told me," Oroki replied. "Dairya invited me. Tell me, my dear little ronin, how do you think Dairya made your peaceful little world possible? Who in the Fortune's grand Empire do you think has been funding your little Army?"

"I think I need to talk to Dairya," Godaigo said.

"Yes," Oroki nodded quickly. "Communication, I find, broadens one's capabilities. You'll have to wait in line behind me, unfortunately. Now tell me where he is or Zou will become cross."

"Scalpel?"

"Scalpel."

"Clamp?"

"Clamp."

"Saw?"

"Saw."

"The old man was in pretty good shape for his age, eh? Who'd have thought he had so much fight in him. Did you see the duel on TV?" Doctor Kusai shook his head in wonder and continued cutting at the cadaver's sternum.

"Yeah, well he sure paid for it," Masa replied. "He must have been exhausted. From the amount of lactic acid we've found built up in the muscles I'd guess he hadn't slept in days. What could drive a man like that?"

"Well, he was the Emperor. He had a lot on his mind, right? Here, hold this while I open this up." Masa worked his finger around the corner of Yoritomo's ribs while Kusai adjusted his positioning for leverage.

"Do you feel kind of weird, doing this?" Masa asked.

"Doing what? We're coroners, Masa," Kusai laughed at the younger man. "We see this sort of stuff every day, remember?"

"Yeah, but this is the Emperor!" Masa said, wincing as Kusai elicited a crunch of bone from the cadaver's chest. "This is Yoritomo the freaking Sixth we're cutting here! One-two-three-four-five-Yoritomo-SIX!"

"Try not to think about it, Masa," Kusai said. "Prince Kameru requested a thorough autopsy and I plan to do just that. Actually, I consider it an honor that I was even considered for this job and you should, too. We'll be the last two men to see the face of the Emperor before he's cremated. In the meantime, just think of him as another patient." Kusai leaned closer to the opening in Yoritomo's chest, squinting his eyes at the deceased Emperor's internal organs. After thirty years working as a coroner, the smell hardly bothered him anymore.

"Um..."

"Yes, Masa?" Kusai sighed. "What is it now?"

"His head," Masa replied, pointing as he stared in numb disbelief.

"What?" Kusai asked, looking up.

The Emperor's head was moving, slowly lolling from side to side.

"Is he alive?" Masa asked.

"I hope not, or we just killed him," Kusai replied, gesturing at the gaping hole in the Emperor's chest. "This is highly irregular. Maybe you should go get a guard in here."

Masa nodded, darting off toward the hallway to fetch the Mantis Guards that stood just outside. They had been ordered by the prince to keep close to the operation in case any help was required, but quickly after the operation began the smell had set in. At that point, both guards had decided to retire to the hallway and let the doctors do their job. Neither Kusai or Masa had minded. Neither of them were quite sure what good a couple of soldiers would do in an autopsy anyway.

Kusai picked up a scalpel in one hand, peering cautiously at the Emperor's head. The old coroner didn't believe in magic. Everything, even shugenja and tetsukami, had a rational explanation. To him this wasn't magic. Simply put, Rokugan kept very close spiritual ties with the dead. No one could work around dead people for three decades and not encounter a ghost or two, not in the Diamond Empire. It wasn't magical, it was just an occupational hazard most people didn't want or need to know about.

"I just want you to know," Kusai said calmly. "I thought you were a very good Emperor, Your Majesty. The taxes have never been lower."

The head began to shake back and forth. It flopped to one side at an awkward, broken angle. Yoritomo VI's face stared at Kusai with blank eyes.

"I'm sure your son will do a fine job," Kusai said, a bit of a quaver working into his voice. "A remarkable young lad, that Kameru. The spitting image of you."

Yoritomo's head snapped backward. A sickly crack erupted from the skull as it split in two along the bridge of the nose. Kusai backed all the way to the wall and hoped that Masa would stop screwing around and bring those guards.

"Um... death to the Crane?" he said.

A searing whine filled the room as a jet of pink vapor erupted from the dead Emperor's skull. Tiny bits of metal and circuitry chittered to the table around Yoritomo's head, and the pink smoke congealed to form a twisted, leering face.

"FREE!" it hissed. "AMGAR LOLINDUS UT KANSEN FREEE!"

"Tetsukansen!" Kusai said, his jaw dropping open in shock.

The cloud smiled, looking at the doctor as if it had heard its name.

"I'll just be going now," Kusai said, taking a tentative step toward the door."

The kansen cackled and narrowed its eyes. The tray of drills and scalpels beside Yoritomo's stretcher began to vibrate rapidly. Kusai threw himself to the floor barely in time as the sharpened surgical instruments leapt from their places and embedded themselves into the steel wall.

"UNDAR ITSHINDUS, MANTIS!" the vapor screamed, laughing hysterically.

Kusai scrambled across the floor on his hands and knees. A glass beaker shattered above him, spraying the floor with broken glass. The kansen continued laughing maniacally the entire time, though its voice seemed to be growing weaker. Kusai continued crawling toward the door as rapidly as his old bones would allow, ignoring the cuts on his hands and legs. Self preservation was an issue but so was an urgent need to report what he had seen. Until now, only high ranking physicians and police investigators had been appraised of the existence of tetsukansen, but if the Emperor could be implanted then no one was safe. People had to know. He had to survive.

Kusai fell back on his rear with a scream as the kansen suddenly appeared before him. It opened its mouth wide and hissed. A broken flask upon the floor spun through the air, grazing the side of Kusai's neck and leaving a trail of blood. The kansen chuckled again and drew in for the kill as the doors to the morgue burst open. A pair of uniformed Mantis guards charged into the chamber, pistols drawn, though they drew up short at the sight of the kansen hovering over Kusai.

"HAHAHAHAHA, MURA SHINKO MABRU UT KANSEN, SAMURAI!" the kansen screamed triumphantly as it turned toward the guards. The scalpels on the floor began to vibrate again.

"We're not samurai," one of the guards replied. "Shugenja." The guard drew a small plastic scroll card from his pocket and pointed at the kansen, speaking ancient words of power. The kansen appeared confused for a moment, then faded to nothing.

"Good thing you were here, Ranbe-san," Kusai said. A guard took the doctor's hand and hauled him to his feet.

"It's not a coincidence," the guard replied. "We were afraid something like this might happen. Damn unpredictable tetsukansen. They do their jobs well enough, but when the host dies, they just go berserk."

"Yes, it was a tetsukansen!" Kusai said, still shocked. "We have to tell Prince Kameru! We have to tell the Emperor!"

"We don't have to tell anyone," the guard said flatly.

"What?" Kusai said, his brow furrowing in confusion. Suddenly, the other guard seized his arms from behind, and Kusai realized that Masa was nowhere to be seen.

"What are you going to do?" Kusai said.

"Don't worry," the guard said, "You're not important enough to kill." He drew another card from his pocket and placed a gentle hand on Kusai's forehead. "You're not even important enough to implant. Just hold still. This won't hurt a bit..."

Later that day, Daikua Kusai would wonder at length how he had managed to cut his hands and knees so badly. You'd think you'd remember a thing like that.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is Matsu Shingo for KTSU news. When I last spoke to Akodo Daniri, I commended him for his bravery during the Dojicorp shooting. Now, in the wake of the Senpet Invasion and Doji Meda's failed coup, the Empire is in this brave Lion's debt thrice over. The people of Otosan Uchi cheer his name in the streets. He is, once again, a true hero. We go now to Ikoma Keijura in our own studios, live with Akodo Daniri."

"Thank you, Shingo-san," Keijura said. The young reporter sat before a small table, lounging back in a small but plush brown armchair. At the other side of the table, in an identical chair, sat Akodo Daniri. The actor was dressed in a plain shirt and dark tie, but still wore his trademark sunglasses. His usual cocky grin was replaced with a somewhat reserved, flat expression.

"Daniri," Keijura said. "In the space of just a few short weeks, you've gone from a television action hero to a real-life hero of the Empire. What does that sort of thing feel like? I'll bet it's a rush."

"Well, Keijura," Daniri said. "I appreciate being able to help out, but I'd rather it had been someone else."

"Really?" Keijura said, surprised. "How so?"

"In the movies you get to do multiple shoots," Daniri replied, "and if you get shot its just a packet of ketchup in your shirt tied to a firecracker. It's like a big game. Real battle is too dangerous for me. I say leave it to the professionals like Gohei and the Imperials. I prefer the nice, simple life of being a Golden Sun celebrity."

Keijura chuckled. "Your modesty does you credit, Daniri. Your bravery speaks for itself, however. Isn't it true that even the Matsu Gohei himself, the man you mentioned, a man known for his strong criticisms of the Akodo family in general, has personally commended your heroism?"

Daniri nodded. "I met him just yesterday, in fact," Daniri said. "Gohei's a good guy. We got along great. He's got kind of a bad rep, actually. Everyone thinks that he's some kind of monster but he's not so bad. He just has a very clear view of what honor and courage mean and expects everyone to adhere to it. Luckily I seem to have gotten on his good side, but I think that's because he hasn't seen any of my movies, and I gave him a stuffed Akodo doll for his daughter."

Keijura nodded slightly. "Everyone's a critic, I suppose. I also hear you've been invited to the funeral of Yoritomo VI tonight on Daikua's Isle. You'll sit in the front row with the Great Clan Daimyos as a personal guest of Prince Kameru. A great honor, to be sure. How does that feel?"

"I have?" Daniri blinked. "I... I didn't get any invitation."

Keijura chuckled. "I suppose I'm being a bit unfair. This was all a scheme cooked up by the Imperial heir, Prince Kameru. I hear he's got quite a sense of humor. He wanted to see the look on your face when I presented you with the invitation personally." Keijura handed the actor a white envelope sealed with the Imperial mon.

"Sense of humor?" Daniri mumbled to himself. "Sense of melodrama is more like it. Damnit, Kameru."

"Well, only a few hours left till the ceremony so I'm sure you suddenly have a lot to do," Keijura said. "It's been good to talk to you again, Daniri. Back to you, Shingo."

The director nodded and gestured to Keijura, indicating that they were now off camera. The young reporter heaved a great sigh and removed his tiny ear-piece.

"What the hell was that all about?" Daniri said tersely.

Keijura glanced at the actor in surprise. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" he asked quietly.

"Surprising me with that ridiculous invitation," he said.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, but it's legitimate news," Keijura shrugged. "I just wanted an honest reaction from you. The audience appreciates that sort of thing. I thought you'd be as glad to hear about it as anyone else. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," Daniri said tonelessly. He slumped back in his chair and gazed at his shoes.

"I don't see what's bothering you so much, Daniri," Keijura added, rising from his own seat. "You're a hero. Not just an Akodo action hero, but a real one. The Emperor appreciates that. The Lion clan respects you for that. Even Gohei respects you for what you've done and that's nigh unheard of. You're bringing the Lion Clan the glory of the old days. Enjoy it. There's nothing to worry about. You've got millions of Lions behind you, every step."

Daniri just sat silently, ignoring Keijura. The reporter watched Daniri for a moment, then sighed in exasperation and exited the studio, leaving the Akodo to his thoughts. The crew lingered for a while, then began to file away as well. The novelty of having a superstar in the studio quickly faded when said superstar did nothing but sulk.

"Life is difficult, Akodo," said a voice from the doors of the studio. "Your existence, I expect, must hence be twice as difficult."

Daniri looked up into the stern eyes of Kitsu Mizutoki, KTSU News' ancient sodan-senzo forecaster. The last time the monk and actor had met, Mizutoki angrily chastised Daniri for his vanity and foolishness. Now, the old Kitsu looked simply sad.

"Twice as difficult?" Daniri said carefully. "What do you mean by that?"

Mizutoki smiled, but only slightly. "We Kitsu speak with the shiryo, the spirits of the Lion, even the spirits of the lost Akodo. I have spoken with the shiryo for many years now, and they keep no secrets from me. I know who you are, Genju Danjuro."

Daniri said nothing. Somehow, he felt relieved that someone else knew his secret. "How long have you known?" he asked.

Mizutoki cocked his head at the young actor. "I have always known," he said.

"Is that why you were so angry at me that day in the parking lot?" Daniri asked. "Because I'm not a real samurai?"

"No," Mizutoki replied. "I was angry at you because you were a fool. You used your stardom for nothing more than wealth and self aggrandizement. You carried the name of the Akodo as if it were nothing more than a fashionable coat. What a sad end for such a proud family, I thought."

"Thought?" Daniri asked. "Past tense?"

"I see difficult times ahead for you, Akodo Daniri," the old monk said gravely. "The spirits writhe and twist around you, some for good, some for ill. I just wished you to know that one thing is still true about you. One of the things that I said before."

"And what is that?" Daniri asked.

"You still give people hope," Mizutoki replied.

"Last time you said it was a false hope," Daniri said.

"That may still hold true, or that may have changed," the old monk replied, rising to his feet once more. "That you must answer for yourself. For all our sakes, I hope you have changed. One shiryo in particular seems to think that you have." Mizutoki quietly padded across the studio toward the exit once more. He turned at the exit to face Daniri once more, and an ancient wisdom seemed to lurk just behind his gaze.

"Danjuro, Daniri, whatever you choose to call yourself, whatever path you wish to follow, remember one thing," Mizutoki said in parting. "Walk that path in honor, and you will always have a friend among the Lion." With that, he turned and left.

Daniri sat where he was, deep in thought. That things would only get worse was obvious; he didn't need a monk to tell him that. Jiro was still playing Toku with Toturi's Army. The city was slowly but steadily going to hell. Apparently he'd gone from a mere actor to an Imperial commodity. With a murky past like his own, the prospect of any sort of political career was hazardous. His past became a moving target for the enemies of anyone who supported him.

Why had the old man even come? To warn him? To taunt him? Daniri sighed and ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. He thought of Kochiyo. She knew his secret as well. Why was that any different? Maybe because that had been his choice to tell her. Maybe something else. Daniri stood and retrieved his coat from the corner of the studio. Somehow, he felt lighter, more confident. He couldn't forget the monk's warnings, but his reassurances hovered about his mind, also. Somehow, it was good to know that someone who knew his secret still believed in him. Even if that someone was a crazy bald old man that spent all his time in a television studio being paid to talk to ghosts.

"What's on your mind, lover?" asked a voice.

"Gah!" Daniri said, turning with a start.

Shosuro Kochiyo giggled at him, sauntering a few steps back toward the door with her hands behind her back. "Surprised?" she asked. "I thought Akodo Daniri would be harder to sneak up on."

Daniri smiled and moved close to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to pull her close. "Kochiyo," he said fondly. "What are you doing here?"

"Just dropping off a resume'," she said vaguely.

"A resume'?" he replied. "At KTSU? Are they hiring geisha?"

"No, silly," she replied, punching him lightly on the chest. "I don't want to be a geisha forever, Daniri. I think I caught the acting bug from you."

"I certainly had the chance to transmit it," he smirked.

"You jerk," she said with mock offense.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to be an actress?" he said suddenly. "Just let me know, I can get you a part on War Machines any time. You could be a love interest. Or better yet, a villain. You could beat me up, then you could redeem yourself and get your own series with higher ratings than mine. That would be fun."

"It wouldn't be fair to do that," she said. "I'm not going to get a job because I know Akodo Daniri."

"Why not?" he asked. "That's how half my friends get their jobs. Besides, you're beautiful. You'd be a star within a week and leave me in the home for retired action heroes alongside that Amijdali guy with the terrible accent."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" she said. Kochiyo laughed and kissed Daniri impulsively. Daniri kissed her back, and the studio was quiet for several moments. "So what's up?" she asked. "You doing anything tonight?"

"Oh... I dunno," he said, drawing the envelope Keijura had drawn from his pocket. "Feel like going to Daikua's Isle?"

"The Imperial coronation?" she said, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Well, yeah," he said. "But I don't know if it would be right to bring you along just because you know Akodo Daniri..." he trailed off.

Kochiyo snatched the invitation from him and kissed him again.

In the depths of the Mountain, the Old Man waited. The Mountain was no longer a hospitable place, but he waited still. The radiation of the Fire Dragon had swept across the desert and settled heavily here. It would not be a safe place for mortal life for some time. The Old Man, however, was something more than mortal.

"Fatima has been destroyed, master," said a faceless figure in the shadows. It was also able to weather the hostile conditions here. Of all his assassins, only it had remained by his side. They had too much history for any other outcome.

"Report," the Old Man replied. He turned slightly in his chair, turning to regard the sky through the great opening in the mountain's face. The moon gleamed red through the dust and poisonous haze, an angry eye searching for the Old Man. It would not find him. Not even the thrice-slain, thrice-cursed eye of Onnotangu could find the Old Man.

""But she was discovered," the figure said. "She used her power too much, too quickly. Our ravenous ally consumed her."

"A pity," the Old Man said with a sigh. "Did she succeed with phase two of her mission, at least?"

The figure nodded. "Yoritomo VI lies dead. Prince Kameru ascends the Diamond Throne this evening."

"When she was taken," the Old Man said. "Did anyone know who she was, from whence she came?"

"No, master," the figure said.

"Then her mission was a success," the Old Man said.

The figure cocked its head slightly, its blank face wrinkling slightly. "A success?" it said. "I had thought phase three was to monitor Prince Kameru, to determine whether he would become a threat to the Allied Senpet Nation?"

"So Fatima believed," the Old Man said, and a great sadness seemed to wash over him. "In truth, Yoritomo Kameru was never a part of her destiny. The Senpet Nation, and whether Kameru plans to destroy what is left of it, are immaterial. All is immaterial. Only the Day of Thunder matters now."

"And what shall we do, Master?" the figure asked.

"Nothing," the Old Man answered. "Your Day has come and gone. Our part in this was a small one, and now it is over." "Just like that?" the figure said. "Fatima dies and it means nothing to you? The Shadow takes her soul and you do not care?"

"I have never cared," the Old Man said. "I have not cared about anything in a very long time. I can no longer afford to. Love, care, trust, lead to weakness. You know this, my daughter."

"Then why?" the figure asked, incredulous. "If you care so little about this world and its people, then why did you send Fatima in the first place?"

The Old Man did not answer. He did not need to answer. Eventually, his faceless daughter went back to the darkness from whence it had come.

A cluster of clouds passed over the moon, veiling the mountain from Onnotangu's eye. The Old Man looked at the sky and smiled, something he rarely did. "As a favor," he said, answering his daughter's question at last. "A favor, Shosuro, for a dear brother."

Dairya stared out the window bitterly, thinking of old lifetimes. Outside, the city of Otosan Uchi lived and breathed. The streets of Little Jigoku teemed with the sounds of life. People were going back to work, fixing up their meager homes again. With the Army to protect them, things were safe. For a time. He wondered how long it would last. He'd tried to make a difference. That was what counted, wasn't it? He wondered if any of it would make a difference, in the end. Too many regrets. Too many mistakes.

The small, antiseptic bedroom had become his world. It would be a few more weeks before his back healed enough for him to even venture out in a wheelchair, and months more after that before he would begin the therapy that would allow him to walk again. He'd be dead long before that. The cancer would see to that. He'd thought the crash into the Scarab would have killed him, a brilliant sacrifice to end his misguided life. As it turned out, it hadn't. The Fortunes weren't through with him yet.

"It has been a long time, Zeshin-sama."

Dairya's head turned quickly, his one eye wide open in surprise. A young Scorpion in an expensive black coat and red porcelain mask stood in the doorway. He bowed deeply and folded his coat over one arm, revealing an equally expensive suit underneath.

"Oroki," Dairya said. A smile spread slowly across the ronin's craggy features. "It has been too long."

Oroki closed the door to the small room and nodded. He sat in the chair nearest the bed and removed his mask with one hand, setting it on the dresser carefully.

"You look tired, Oroki," Dairya said.

"I am tired," he replied. "I received your e-mail."

"So this isn't a social visit," Dairya said.

"No," Oroki said with a small shake of his head. "But I must confess, the day I heard about your accident, I almost stopped by."

"That would be out of character for Bayushi Oroki," Dairya said with a chuckle.

"Yes," Oroki said with a tired sigh. "That would indeed be out of character for the man Bayushi Oroki has become. At least part of him. We're all made up of many facets. It's how we put them together that makes us what we are."

"What a wise expression that is," Dairya said thoughtfully.

"And how modest the man who taught it to me," Oroki replied. "Now what is this about the Eye?"

Dairya considered his reply carefully. "The first shard has been released," he said. "All of the precautions we've taken, all of the protective measures, all the information we've gathered.. It's all for nothing now."

"Information is its own reward," Oroki said. "Who took the stone?"

"It was at Lucky Star Center," Dairya said. "The Locust Clan took it. Somehow, Inago Sekkou found out about it and tracked it down. He even killed Chikao, the Keeper. How the Locust ferreted out the location, I'll never know. The man must be pretty hot kappa-fodder to have broken Katsunan's code."

"Do the Locust still have it?" Oroki asked.

"Luckily, no," Dairya said. "By sheer coincidence, a member of the Army managed to implant himself into Sekkou's team. I have it right here." He gestured at a plain brown-wrapped item sitting on the table beside them. Oroki had assumed it was a loaf of bread. The Scorpion carefully unwrapped the paper and his eyes widened as he saw what lay underneath. Motes of light and color sparkled within the stone. Somewhere, deep within, he saw the image of a scorpion. A white scorpion. He looked away.

"Do they know what it is?" Oroki asked quickly, worried.

"No," Dairya replied. "Tokei knows it's powerful, but he has no idea. He'd crap if I told him the truth. Toku managed to make off with the Eye while Sekkou was occupied with the Shinjo. Shinjo Katsunan sure wasn't shy about unloading the purple troopers on Lucky Star when he heard about it. He knew the Eye was in there and was damn well ready to keep it there."

"I thought Katsunan was being a little... severe," Oroki said. "But then again, I've never really seen eye to eye with the man."

"Different clans, different methods, same goal," Dairya shrugged. "It's all moot now. The Eye's been removed from its bag. It's just a matter of time before they come looking for it. You know what that means."

Oroki was quiet. "Someone has to stop them," he said.

"Yes," Dairya replied. "And it has to be one of us. If anyone else were to find out about the Eye, it would be a disaster. The Senpet Invasion would look like a visit from your grandma. I'd handle it myself, except for the minor inconvenience of this broken spine of mine."

Oroki nodded. "How many of the Masters are in Otosan Uchi?"

"Me," Dairya said. "Four more. All of them are entangled in other affairs at the moment. That or I can't trust them. That leaves just you. Take the Eye when you leave. Then it's just a matter of time before they find you."

Oroki shook his head. "This is a bad time," he said. "I'm in the middle of a lot of things right now. Zou's recovery. Shiriko and this whole white scorpion nonsense. Sachiko and that damn Moto nonsense. I've too much going on right now."

Dairya's face darkened. "Dammit, Oroki, your games can wait until later," he roared. "You know how important this is!"

"Yeah," Oroki said. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. What do I do?"

"When the Oracles come for you..." Dairya paused for a long time. "You have to kill them."

"Kill the Oracles?" Oroki said. "Don't be foolish, Dairya. That didn't work when they tried it three centuries ago. It won't work now."

"It will," Dairya said. "Everything on the earth can die. You just need the right weapons. The Migi-Hidari might just do it. It's a longshot, but it's our only shot."

Oroki nodded. "It looks like it's time for me to visit my father," he said.

On the rear wall of the council chamber blazed the symbol of Shiba, a crossed pair of flaming swords. The seal was great and ancient, one of the few artifacts from old Shiro Shiba that had been moved to the capitol instead of the Phoenix's new territories in the south. It was hard to believe it had not even been a month since the last time she had stood here in this place. Then, she had just been Isawa Sumi, a young girl of some note as a shugenja. Now she stood on the other side of the table. Now, she was the Champion of her Clan. She carried the pearl handled blade of Ofushikai upon her belt and wore a brilliant orange silk kimono, topped by a haori with the blazing five-ring mon of the Isawa family on both sides.

The room was very quiet. Only Isawa Kujimitsu and Shiba Mojo were here with her now. Kujimitsu sat at the Elemental Council's table, thumbing through a paperback novel. He seemed very old just then, and very alone. All of the other Masters were dead or gone now. He was the only one left, and soon strangers would fill the positions of the other Masters. Mojo stood near the rear of the chamber, lost in thought. He smiled reassuringly when he noticed Sumi enter, then returned to his brooding. Sumi worried about him. The usually jovial and mischievous man seemed oddly haunted of late, ever since the night of the Senpet Invasion. Did he feel he had failed her somehow by not being there, or was there something more?

"They wait for you," prompted a quiet voice in the back of Sumi's mind. "They won't do a thing until you lead them."

Sumi gasped, surprised at the sudden intrusion. The souls of the past champions of the Phoenix dwelled within the sword she wore at her waist. As long as she bore it, she was granted their wisdom and guidance. They did not force their knowledge upon her often, but it was always a bit of a shock when they did.

I am Shiba Tamoko. I spoke rather than listened. I raised an open hand of harmony to the Asako and Isawa, bringing the feuding families of the Phoenix closer than they had been in centuries. My name is still lingers on the tattered ledgers of history, ranked among the greatest promoters of peace who ever lived.

Sumi blinked and shook her head to clear it. Every time one of them advised her, a bit of their memories remained with her. She was growing wiser, but also losing her individuality. The voices didn't seem to want to possess or control her, they just couldn't help leaving a small piece of themselves behind.

"Ah, good, you're here," Kujimitsu said, looking up as he rose and putting his book away under the table. Gensu, Mae, and Kul no doubt await you even now."

Kujimitsu pressed a button on the table and a trio of large television screens rose from the center of the floor. They turned and pivoted, swiveling to bear on Sumi where she readied herself before the Shiba mon. The screens hummed to life. On the left, an elderly man with great cavernous wrinkles etched upon his face bowed politely. He wore the old fashioned billowing robes of a Rokugani shugenja. The golden flaming quill mon of the Asako family shone brightly on his left breast. Sumi knew from Kujimitsu's briefings that this was Asako Kul, daimyo of the Asako family. He was no doubt at the Great Seal this very moment, taking a short break from his endless vigil over the heart of the old Shadowlands.

In the center a sharp-faced, middle aged man bowed with terse precision. He was Shiba Gensu, cousin of Shiba Mifune, newly raised daimyo of the Shiba family. He wore the hard plasteel armor the Shiba favored, though more ornately decorated than most. A pair of yojimbo stood to either side of the man. Sumi recognized one of them as Katsumi, a young girl who lost her hand to an exploding void pistol during the battle against Oni no Kaze. Her right arm now ended in a tetsukami prosthetic. Though she bowed along with her master, her eyes were flat and cold as she regarded Sumi.

On the right, a young girl with short-cropped hair smiled broadly. She wore the odd green-red robes of the Phoenix Agasha. Agasha Mae's family was a small one, as most of their number had returned to Togashi Mountain during the Shadow Wars and were subsequently destroyed by the Fire Dragon explosion. Still, she had been eager to sit in on this meeting for a chance to see the new daimyo if nothing else.

"I'd like to call this meeting to order," Sumi said in as stern a voice as she could manage. She had been working on her oration, and hoped that she at least in some way managed to impress the men and women who were supposed to follow her. She sat in the great chair at the head of the room, resting her hands upon the sculpted golden phoenix heads that rose from the arms. Cameras all along the ceiling clicked and focused, transmitting her image to Neo Shiba, Agasha's Trust, and the Great Seal instantaneously.

"Of course, Lady Sumi," Gensu said in an oil-slick voice. The thin bushi seated himself behind his own large mahogany desk. His followers sat after he did. "I bid you greetings from the lands of the south."

"As do I," Asako Kul said. "I offer my sympathies for the death of your father. Isawa Asa was a good man, one of the few I truly respected." Kul's voice was clear and steady. His eyes may have become unfocused with age, but his wits were still clear and sharp.

"Thank you," Sumi said sincerely. "I appreciate hearing that. Many people made some very unfair judgments about my father near the end, after the circumstances of his death."

"Yes, a tragedy, I'm certain," Gensu said, glancing away and back. "Is that really what we came here to discuss?" Agasha Mae's mouth closed with a click. She had been about to introduce herself, but decided it would be best to wait until Gensu spoke his piece.

Sumi frowned. "No," she said. "It is not. Kujimitsu had communicated to me that you had some questions regarding the succession. Since this matter regards the entire clan, and I have not yet had the opportunity to properly become acquainted with the esteemed Kul or Mae, I have chosen to invite them to this meeting as well."

"Your position," Gensu said dryly. "Well, I am honored that you deigned to hear my claim, though I would have preferred you come to visit me personally at Neo Shiba, home of that sword that you bear."

"He hopes to manipulate you, to show that you are weak before his allies," said the quiet voice. "Do not allow him to steer the conversation his way. His type wins battles without ever drawing a sword."

More memories...

I am Shiba Gen, general of the Imperial Legions for twelve years. My skill on the battlefield is unparalleled, matched only by my skill at the negotiation table. I thought that gaining glory and honor would grant me the power to bring peace, but it only brought enemies...

Sumi quickly pushed away the memory. Though she was curious about the many famous past champions whose spirits inhabited her sword, this was not the time to become lost in reflection.

"Gensu, I am the Phoenix Champion and I have responsibilities in the city," Sumi said sharply. "My time is a valuable commodity, and one highly valued by the new Emperor. Surely you do not think your claim is important enough to pull me from the city while Prince Kameru ascends the Diamond Throne?"

Gensu frowned. His lip twitched. Clearly he hadn't expected such political savvy from this slip of a girl. "I was thoughtless, Sumi-sama," he said carefully. "Forgive me. However, the present difficulties in the capitol do not explain why you have not deigned to visit us earlier. After all, you have claimed the title of Phoenix Champion for nearly a month. Had you no time to present yourself before the daimyos of your family, or were we not worth your time?"

"Now that's hardly a fair demand, Gensu," Kujimitsu said. "You know what's going on here. Bishamon's blood, the Senpet invaded! Shinsei has been revealed! Yoritomo VI has died! Is none of that beyond your own petty concerns?"

"Please, Kujimitsu," Asako Kul said smoothly. "There is no good purpose in such agitation. The proper ascension of the new daimyo is as important as any of those other matters. The Empire has risen and fallen on the strength of a single daimyo. If Yoritomo I had not been daimyo of the Mantis during the Shadow Wars, Jigoku may have triumphed. Perhaps we all would have perished. I will not take that risk with the Phoenix. Not now, not ever. I, for one, would like to verify Sumi's worthiness to rule."

"But it has been verified," Sumi replied. "The sword chose me. The Soul of Shiba itself selected me as the rightful heir."

"So you claim," Gensu nodded impatiently. "But only the champion may speak to the Soul of Shiba. How can we be so sure?"

"The sword came to her of its own accord," Kujimitsu said, an edge of anger burning in his voice. "I saw it with my own eyes. While I appreciate your desire for strong leadership, Shiba has been selecting its own successors for two thousand years without your advisement, Gensu."

"And thank the Fortunes for that," Asako Kul said with a small smile. "If our Shiba cousin had the responsibility of selection, I believe our condition would hardly improve."

Gensu's brow furrowed in anger. "Am I not yet the daimyo of the Shiba?" he demanded. "Has my family somehow been demoted in status while my attention was elsewhere? Am I less deserving of respect than this... this council of one?" He gestured angrily toward Kujimitsu. "And what of the rumors of the new Elemental Council? That they will not even be of Phoenix blood? Is this how you begin your tenure, Isawa Sumi? By selling out your name to anyone with the money and influence to feed your desires?"

"He is a firebrand," said the quiet voice in Sumi's mind. "He will burn in fury and his family will follow. Stamp him out and the fire will begin again elsewhere. You must defuse his anger now before it becomes an inferno."

And again...

I am Shiba Uesugi, mother and wife. My children look upon me with joy in their eyes. My name is carried across the breadth of the Emerald Empire in the songs of heroes. I am glad of my life, and the chance Amaterasu gave me to live it.

Sumi focused on Gensu, concentrating not to let Shiba's thoughts overwhelm her own. "You seem to think I hate the Shiba, Gensu," she said. "What sense does that make? I am of your own blood. My father was a Shiba and so was my grandfather."

"Neither of whom you knew," Gensu sneered. "And let us keep in mind that you were raised by the Isawa, and that your true father was a fugitive khadi sorceror. What sort of loyalties do you bear, Isawa Sumi?"

Agasha Mae looked very uncomfortable. She didn't know how to get into this discussion, or even if she wanted to.

"Sumi's parents," Kul said slowly, "Were Phoenix, Gensu. Zul Rashid is a Phoenix. Whatever he was in the past is immaterial. The Phoenix are one, now and always. I will not hear you speak dishonorably of a former Elemental Master."

"You miss my meaning, Asako," Gensu sighed. "I imply that though Sumi carries our blood, her heritage and upbringing are so impossibly confused that she cannot possibly lead us effectively. The Shiba will not be led except by one of their own, born and raised. If she will not step down, then we demand the right to choose a suitable spouse, so that the needs of the Shiba may be accounted for."

"I do not mean to lead the Shiba," Sumi replied. "I never did. But I do mean to lead the Phoenix."

"The Phoenix are always led by a Shiba," Gensu countered.

"That seems to have changed," Kujimitsu answered. "The Soul has made its choice."

"Again with that mystical claptrap," Gensu said, flustered. "If you put so much stock in your mysticism, Isawa, then why is there so little magic left in your family that you cannot even fill out the Council of Five? Answer me that? Are we to be judged by Unicorns and led by half-gaijin bastards? Where will this girl lead us?"

Sumi was furious. She could feel the kami raging around her, echoing her anger. With an extraordinary effort of will, she managed to maintain her rage and appear calm. She opened her mouth to reply, but Asako Kul spoke first.

"Your insults are immature and offensive, Shiba," Kul said. "This girl, as you call her, may or may not bear two thousand years of experience in the blade at her side. I plan to verify this personally. In the meantime, you may call our mysticism 'claptrap' if you will, but remember that it is the claptrap of my family that has kept the demon hordes of Jigoku in check for a hundred years."

"Good point," Kujimitsu added. "Further, where is the harm in the reins of the Phoenix changing hands? If nothing else, this will unify us even more than before. The eternal wisdom of the Shiba combines at last with the power of a Phoenix shugenja."

"With an Isawa, you mean," Kul said quickly. "Gensu's struggle to maintain the power of his family may be more blatant, but you cannot deny your own agenda, Kujimitsu. The Isawa family wanes in power. No doubt you believe an Isawa Champion will change your position greatly?"

"I would not take advantage of Sumi," Kujimitsu retorted.

"Not intentionally, but there is the danger just the same," Kul said. "The Champion and the Council have ever been separate for good purpose. Through our division, we maintain our balance. Through our singularity, we maintain our unity."

Agasha Mae looked like she was about to say something, but didn't. She just looked confused.

"You argue for and against both sides, it seems," Gensu said to Kul. "What would you recommend? That Sumi change her name to Asako, no doubt."

"That is not my intent, but were she to come to us we would gladly accept her," Gensu said simply and without guile.

"All is chaos," said the voice. "The Phoenix sow the seeds of their own destruction ever and again. A single strong voice can plant the seed that will allow it to rise again."

More memories followed...

I am Shiba Haronobu, Imperial Advisor. I sought to bring my clan strength and unity, but I succeeded too well. I never saw the Otomo's dagger...

Sumi stood. With a loud bang, she hammered the hilt of Ofushikai down upon the table. Kujimitsu turned with a start. Kul looked merely curious, Gensu wary. Agasha Mae looked terrified. Mojo's hand was halfway to the butt of his pistol before he realized what was happening.

"Stop it," Sumi commanded in a thunderous voice. "All of you."

Her voice echoed through the chamber. The four leaders of the Phoenix families simply watched her for a long moment, uncertain of what to say next.

"You're acting like children, all of you," Sumi said. "Fighting over titles and calling it your right, calling it necessity, calling it unity. This is not what Rokugan needs. This is not what the Phoenix need. I was born a Shiba. I was raised by the Isawa. I did not wish for this position, it thrust itself upon me in the midst of combat. However, know this: I will not cast off this responsibility lightly, no matter what any of you think. The Shiba will not follow an Isawa Champion. The Asako believe a Champion has no place so close to the Elemental Council. The Isawa believe that my past friendship will grant them an influence over the clan that their magic can no longer provide. I am sorry, Kujimitsu, but it is true."

"I will not marry a Shiba," she continued. "Not under your terms, Gensu. I cannot rule as an Isawa. Kul, you were right about that."

"So... what will you do?" Agasha Mae asked, a bewildered look in her dark eyes. She wondered, vaguely, if Sumi intended to join the Agasha.

Sumi slowly untied the haori that hung about her neck. With a tug, she pulled it free exposing her bare shoulders. The gold and red cloth fluttered to the floor of the council chamber. The swirling five-ring mon of the Isawa spun once in the air and lay still.

"As of this moment, I am no longer an Isawa. I am no longer a Shiba. I will never be an Agasha or Asako or anything else for that matter. I am only a Phoenix. I am only your Champion. I am Sumi, and only that."

"But you can't-" Gensu said quickly.

"Can't I?" Sumi cut him off. "The decision has been made, and you will live with it."

From the looks on the faces of the assembled Phoenix, she wondered if the decision was the right one.

Once every hundred years, perhaps once every one thousand years, a spirit like his was born. He had one of those rare, eternally pure souls, able to weather the harshest and most degrading of experiences and still come out with his innocence in tact. Though he could indeed be violent when the need arose, he was never cruel. He never enjoyed inflicting pain. He simply did what he was told to do, and hoped that he was doing the right thing. He had a simple wisdom that seemed to protect him from harm, and a talent for seeing the beauty of nature. Under different circumstances, he might have made a wonderful Shinsei.

Unfortunately, he had been born an ogre.

Kaibutsu looked at himself in the dirty hotel mirror. His big shoulders shifted nervously, and a worried frown creased his big mouth. He reached up and adjusted his new mask for the one hundredth time. Sometimes, the people didn't recognize him for what he was. Kaibutsu was very small for an ogre. With the right mask he could pass for a rather large human. He liked that. Kaibutsu liked people. They were much nicer than ogres, but only when they didn't know he was an ogre. But he really couldn't blame them for fearing his kind. He feared his kind too. A lot.

That was why he liked the Locust Clan. They were bad people, and sometimes they did bad things. But then there were the other times. The times when they relaxed together in the tunnels, or when they had the meetings in the room Inago called the Heart of the Machine. Inago would raise his fist and say encouraging things and make Kaibutsu feel strong and worth something. Kaibutsu would raise his fist too and shout louder than all the rest. The Locusts respected Kaibutsu, because he was strong. They liked Kaibutsu, because he could fight.

It wasn't much. Deep in his heart, he knew that. He would have preferred that they like Kaibutsu for Kaibutsu, but it was a start and it was more than he had ever had before. He had been secretly overjoyed when Inago Sekkou had offered him the special mission, the secret mission. Maybe it meant that someone really liked him at last.

"Kaibutsu will not fail, Sekkou-sama," the little ogre said resolutely to the mirror. "Kaibutsu will find Jiro and the white rock for you." Kaibutsu knew Sekkou couldn't hear him; he wasn't quite that dim. Still, it made him better to say that every morning before he set out. For four days he'd been searching Little Jigoku for the little human and hadn't found anything yet. He hadn't lost a shred of hope or energy, but he was beginning to miss the Machine a little.

Kaibutsu picked up his dufflebag from the bed. It had everything he would need in it, everything he was allowed to take with him before he left. A blanket, a little money, and a large pair of iron nunchaku in case he ran into trouble. The nunchaku were large by Kaibutsu's standards, which meant that they were large indeed. They filled out most of the inside of the bag, twin iron posts so heavy that a normal human would tear the muscles from his spine just trying to lift them. He'd made them himself out of a pair of discarded railroad ties and a bit of the chain they used to hold ship anchors on the big boats out in Golden Sun Bay. Kaibutsu hefted the bag with ease, turning toward the door.

The ogre made his way down the steps of the shabby La-Zee Ronin Motel, squinting and turning his head away from the bright morning sun. He ducked into the front office for a moment to check out. It wasn't entirely necessary; La-Zee Ronin was a pay-in-advance, get-the-hell-out-by-noon sort of motel. Still, Kaibutsu wanted to say goodbye to the friendly desk clerk and get some more of those tasty little chocolate donuts out of the lobby vending machine. Kaibutsu liked donuts.

"My friend, my friend, what a curious little creature you are," Omar Massad chuckled to himself. He squatted in the shadows of the alley across the street, watching the ogre's movements with interest through his binoculars. Four the last four days, he'd been tailing Kaibutsu. He would have felt that he was wasting his time if he hadn't been so entertained.

"Inago, if you only knew," Massad said, watching the ogre stroll aimlessly down the street and pop donuts into his large mouth. "You think Sekkou is brewing himself a rebellion. If these are his troops, I don't think you've a thing to worry about."

Massad hadn't really been surprised that he'd been sent here. There wasn't any other choice, really. The Jackal was clever, perceptive, and utterly ruthless. Furthermore, as a gaijin and an internationally wanted criminal he had nowhere else to go except the Locust Clan. Though his powers were unique in Rokugan, the short tenure of his membership also made him expendable. None of this bothered Omar Massad. He'd expected as much. That was how things worked in a terrorist organization like this. You start at the bottom, then kill your way to the top. It was all about seniority, and having the biggest gun. He had the Soul of the Slayer, and that was a very big gun indeed.

Four days ago, the orders had finally come down. Massad had been relaxing in his room at the time, meditating on the infinite clear facets of the Soul. Inago himself entered Massad's room, leaping right into his instructions with out introduction or preface.

"Kaibutsu has left the Heart of the Machine," Inago had said in his strange, slightly metallic voice. "He is following Sekkou's commands rather than my own. You will leave as well, Omar Massad, and keep the ogre in sight. Report all of his movements directly to me."

"You want me to follow the oaf, eh?" Massad had replied.

"Follow him, and find out what Sekkou is planning," Inago said.

"Should I kill the bug-head while I'm at it?" Massad asked. "I could do so, easily enough. He's not half as hard as he thinks."

Inago's hands tightened into fists, and released again. "No," he said tersely. "For the moment, I need Sekkou. He has been acting curiously, but his mind is crucial to our goals. For the moment, I would rather attempt to stifle his plotting than eliminate him altogether."

"All-rightie," Massad said. "You don't have to explain yourself, you're the boss."

Inago nodded. "That will be all, Massad." He turned to leave.

"You just let me know if you change your mind about Sekkou," Massad said. The door closed and Massad's eyes gleamed in the darkness. "I've been wanting to kill that guy since we first met."

"That goes for you, too," Massad said, watching the ogre walk down the street. "I'm not sure what it is about the Shadowlands, but you creatures just irritate me. So blasted unpredictable. Not like a ghul. Right, Gekkar?"

The massive undead man said nothing, but stared straight ahead with dead red eyes. Massad had bought the ghul a pair of sunglasses so his odd gaze would be a bit less noticeable, but they still shined through if it was dark enough. Most of the time, the big ghul simply looked like any one of a hundred other thick-necked goons that floated about the streets of Little Jigoku looking for trouble. Massad found that less people asked him what he was doing when he brought Gekkar along.

Kaibutsu rounded a corner down the street, and Massad stepped out of the alley to follow. Gekkar followed Massad, a wordless and obedient puppet. The two of them crossed the jagged, pock-marked street, not bothering to look for traffic. There still wasn't any traffic in these neighborhoods, not enough to worry about. The construction crews were busy rebuilding the Diamond Palace and Golden Sun Studios. The streets of Little Jigoku had never a high priority for repair in the best of times. Now the people of the neighborhood were growing accustomed to walking. A few Asako Gyrocopters flitted past here and there. The little vehicles had become very popular. Massad wouldn't be caught dead on one. He knew how tetsukami worked, and refused to trust his life to anything as frivolous and dead-on stupid as an air spirit. Even more worthless than the Shadowlands.

Massad ducked into a doorway when he saw Kaibutsu. The ogre was just standing on a street corner next to a lamp post, watching people walk by. Massad inclined his head slightly and nodded, a quiet note of respect. Kaibutsu wasn't bothering total strangers for information. He wasn't stumbling about randomly. He had just picked a busy street corner and settled in to watch, eating his donuts patiently. Omar suspected Kaibutsu was looking for the boy, Jiro, and whatever it was that Sekkou had tried to steal at Lucky Star. Omar hadn't told Inago that. That would have been too easy. Anyway, he wanted confirmation. That, and he wanted to get his hands on whatever it was Sekkou had planned to steal. When in the midst of a power play, become a player yourself. It was a rule that had made Omar Massad the criminal mastermind of Medinaat-al-Salaam.

Kaibutsu suddenly looked up, an eager look in his beady eyes. Massad squinted curiously and scanned the streets, wondering what the ogre could possibly be looking at. He saw nothing change, nothing different at all. Kaibutsu immediately headed off down the street, his stride purposeful. Massad followed after, with Gekkar in tow.

Twenty minutes later, Massad crouched in the shadows again watching the ogre. He had stopped before a small diner, peering at the building curiously. Why had he stopped here? Was the ogre just insane? Then Massad noticed. Kaibutsu's nose was twitching quickly and his eyes were closed. He was tracking Jiro by smell.

"That's extraordinary," Massad said, turning to Gekkar. "Why can't you do anything that useful?"

Gekkar did not reply.

Kaibutsu didn't enter the diner. Instead, he settled in on the steps of an apartment building down the street and waited. Massad could see why. The diner wasn't very crowded, and didn't look like it was supposed to be. Occasionally, a large man would glance out and scan the streets, then go back inside. A black Otaku off-road vehicle was parked outside. It was the sort of vehicle that could handle Little Jigoku's streets, but wouldn't last long without being stolen. No one around here drove a car like that. Whatever that place was supposed to be, it wasn't a diner. After a few minutes, a pair of Scorpions in expensive black coats emerged from the diner, got in the car, and drove away.

"Shotai's, eh?" Massad said to himself. "Shotai's indeed."

"Dang, Rakki, you're the luckiest man alive," Ide Gombei said, staring in blank disbelief at Rakki's dice. Gombei was a small time informant who sometimes dropped by the Tower to shoot the breeze or play some dice. Right now, the garage was packed with off-duty officers. They tinkered on their vehicles, listened to the radio, or just sat around doing nothing. Shinjo Gombei wished that he'd picked one of them to play dice with instead. He could never beat Shinjo Rakki.

"A lot of people say I'm lucky, but it's just not true. There's no such thing as luck," Rakki said. "Winds and Fortunes is all skill."

"Yeah, right," Gombei laughed. "You're the luckiest guy I know. You spend the whole Invasion hiding in an alley and then you get a promotion just because you were the first one to call it in. What's up with that?"

"I'm glad the Senpet invaded, personally," Rakki answered. "Anything to get me out of harbor patrol. If you ask me, the harbor's a much worse place to be stationed, even compared to Little Jigoku. The Locusts might try to kill you every once in a while, but they don't make a habit out of it." Rakki suddenly blinked, as if he'd finally digested Gombei's earlier comment. "Hey, anyway, I didn't hide. I was fighting the whole time. Alongside Akodo Daniri. I even got his autograph."

"Yeah, sure," Gombei said. "I bet you got to ride in the Akodo War Machine, too."

"I did," Rakki said. "Well, sorta. I fell down and he carried me the last few blocks to Shinjo Tower. Man, that things like a hundred feet tall."

"Lucky bastard," said a random passerby.

"It's not luck!" Rakki retorted over his shoulder. "It's all about opportunity and knowing how to properly utilize it. You understand that, right, Gombei?"

"It's luck, Rakki."

"It's not luck. I'm not lucky."

"Shinjo Rakki?" said a woman's voice.

Shinjo Rakki looked up into the most beautiful pair of green eyes he had ever seen. "Yes, I'm lucky," he said, "Er, I mean, I'm Rakki."

She rose one eyebrow at him. "I'm Otaku Sachiko," she said, adjusting the helmet she carried under one arm. "I'm your new partner."

"Wow," he said. "The same Otaku Sachiko who took out Oni no Taki-bi? Katsunan's niece? That's you?"

"That's me," she said. "Pleased to meet you, Rakki. You ready to go out on patrol or what?"

"Um, just a minute," he said, quickly gathering the koku that Gombei had lain out along with his dice and sticking them both in the pocket of his sleeve.

Sachiko turned with a laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she headed for the line of Otaku motorcycles against the wall. "You know, gambling is illegal," she called out.

"That's what I keep telling Gombei," Rakki said back. "But as long as he keeps losing, I don't see the need to arrest him."

"Wow, an Otaku," Gombei said, staring at Sachiko as she walked away.

"Stop that," Rakki said, lightly slapping the man on the side of the face. "That's my partner's rear you're staring at."

"My apologies," he said, shaking his head and blinking several times. "How do you do it, Rakki? A promotion, a new bike, and Otaku Sachiko for a partner. You're my hero."

Shinjo Rakki snatched his helmet from the seat beside him. "Just lucky, I guess."

"Kameru-sama," Tetsugi said as he followed the young prince down the hallway. "You will forgive me, but I am uncertain as of yet how to address you."

"Well, I'm not officially the Emperor yet," Kameru answered. He had washed and dressed in a fine green kimono. At Tetsugi's suggestion, the Ancestral Weapons of the Mantis were buckled upon his belt. He needed to make an immediate and lasting impression to keep the clans from walking over him forever. He had some other ideas about that as well, but the swords had been a good idea. "In about an hour I'll be coronated officially but for now I'm still Kameru."

"Ah," Tetsugi replied. "I suppose this may be a bad time to bother you with this, but I had hoped to ask you about something before we reached the helicopter." Tetsugi spoke slowly, carefully. Though he'd watched Kameru's growth in preparation for the day the boy would become Emperor, he was still an unknown. He'd progressed too quickly. With the sudden shock of his father's death, Ranbe Ishihn's murder, Orin Wake's imprisonment, and the looming war with Amijdal there was no guessing how the boy would react. Damn Meda for acting too quickly. If the coup had been attempted the day before the Ultimatum ran out things would have been fine. Then, at least, Kameru wouldn't have so much time to think, to make a bad decision due to inexperience.

"Ask what you will, Tetsugi," Kameru said. "You were one of my father's closest advisors, and I'd like to maintain your counsel."

"Of course," Tetsugi replied. He felt a brief pang of guilt. Yoritomo VI's trust, in the end, had been misplaced. Tetsugi had plotted against him with the rest. He'd been nearly certain that the war Yoritomo was brewing was the threat he had been waiting for. He was so sure that the Emperor would be the source of the next evil, the next Day of Thunder. Well, ninety percent of life was contingencies and the man who called himself Heichi Tetsugi was no fool. "It is about the Minor Clans, Kameru," Tetsugi replied. "Certain members of the Assembly, as you know, were subverted by the Crane. They played a minor part in Meda's attempted coup."

"Yes, Gohei reported Toku Yaro making rude gestures to him from a helicopter, shortly after the Monkey sealed the gates," Kameru said. "The Wasps still haven't been able to track him down."

"Indeed," Tetsugi replied. "Well, I know Toku Yaro. I've worked with him on the Assembly of Minor Clans for a long time, and I know him to be a reasonable and honorable man. I did some research into his sudden change of loyalty, and have come up with some interesting conclusions."

"Really," Kameru said.

"Apparently, Dojicorp has managed to gain nearly a controlling interest in the Saru Security Agency over the course of the last few months," Tetsugi said. "It is my belief that they were preparing to engage in a hostile takeover of Yaro's company."

"Blackmail is no excuse for treachery," Kameru replied. "Is that what you're suggesting?"

"Of course not," Tetsugi replied. Inwardly, he nodded in satisfaction. The boy was not as thickheaded as his reputation suggested. Good. "I don't think Yaro was entirely aware of what Meda was planning. As you remember, the descendant of Shinsei was announced that day, and with the exception of Akodo Daniri there were no Lions present for the announcement. It is my belief that this was Meda's ploy, to convince Yaro that he was participating in a simple political game, keeping the Lions from attending the most important religious event of the millennium."

"He barred the gates of the Palace!" Kameru said incredulously. "That's a game?"

"The court is a large place to play," Tetsugi said with a sigh. "You grew up in the Palace. You know that sometimes the games are not so simple."

"Well, if Toku Yaro isn't Meda's accomplice, then why has he fled the city?" Kameru asked, gesturing quickly to punctuate his words. Tetsugi could already tell that the boy was more energetic than his father, and more prone to argument. Yoritomo VI did not argue, he commanded; something that did not always work in the former Emperor's favor.

"He fled because he is a man with many enemies," Tetsugi replied. "The Saru Security Agency are, after all, mercenaries. They have been hired to intercede for and against nearly every clan in the Empire. Many men would like to see Toku Yaro's head on a spike, and he has few friends in the court."

"Discretion was the better part of valor, as it were?" Kameru asked.

"Exactly," Tetsugi replied. They were nearly at the helipad, and Tetsugi nodded toward a pair of Wasps to open the doors for them. "I know that there are those in the Imperial Assembly who will seek to condemn Yaro and his clan. I hope that you will be patient with him. Perhaps he is not entirely free of blame, but an obligated servant is more useful than a dead martyr."

Kameru considered this. "Perhaps you're right," he said. "And what of the Crane? Since we're on the subject, what do you feel I should do about them?"

Tetsugi paused a moment. He tested others so often, he had an instinct for knowing when others were testing him back. This was one of those times. "The Crane are a large clan," he responded. "To condemn them all for the actions of a single man, especially when that man was as influential as Doji Meda, is risky. You may end up with a civil war on your hands. Still, treachery cannot go unpunished, and examples must be made."

Kameru nodded. "Good advice," he said. "Not easy advice to follow, but good advice."

"Good advice is rarely easy to follow," Tetsugi said quietly. He stood back to allow Kameru to exit the Palace first. Tetsugi's mind wandered in thought. He'd saved the Monkey, that much was certain. The other Minor Clans that had followed his advice had participated little; their involvement was easy enough to conceal. The assembly members who had argued against the coup were still a problem to be dealt with. Tetsugi couldn't kill them; he just didn't operate that way. He couldn't hold them forever. He couldn't lock up five innocent samurai forever to hide his own dishonor. The truth would come out eventually.

"Unless it just disappears," he said to himself. "Sometimes, the truth just disappears." He could do it again... He'd done it before.