Waters Under Earth at Transpacific Fanfiction:  
http://www.humbug.org.au/~wendigo/transp.html

Commentary's appreciated; public or private, your choice.

Incoming!  :)  All comments strictly my opinion; comments
Gary Kleppe has already made are not duplicated (unless I goofed).

Chapter 35 : Oak and Ash and Thorn

    He had not been able to move.  They had held him down, and
cut him arm that they might catch the blood in a bowl of hammered

cut his arm

silver.

{dark ritual snipped}

The dead passed eyes and tongue back and forth among themselves,
fondling them as if they were toys.  Too deep among they dead to

among the dead

breathe.  Too deep among the dead to move.  Too deep, too deep,
too deep.

{What's Hellstrom's word for this?  "Squicky"?  Very squicky.}
   

    "He came in the house, Nabiki," Kasumi answered.  Her voice
was a whisper flat as a pane of glass.

{Eleven words with the precision and impact of a Bakusai Tenketsu.
Applause.  Images like this are what I read WUE for.}

    Long silence.  Suddenly, there were tears in her eyes.  Arms

{Suggest "With her arms...}

bound to her sides by the same thin cords that cut lightly into
the flesh and bound her to Kasumi, she could not wipe them away.

    He would not, of course, ask if she was all right before
making sure Kasumi was, Nabiki thought sourly.  "No, Dad.  No, I
don't think she is."  The blankness in Kasumi's eyes as she lay
naked and violated in her bed came back to her, and how the light
had shone on Tofu's glasses so that they became opaque and hid 
his gaze.

{Yow.  Another vivid image -- we've seen this so many times in
the anime, and now it's sinister.  Will I ever see Tofu the
same way again?}

    A slightly annoyed twist came onto Unagi's wide mouth.  "You
ask a lot of questions, don't you?  I am not surprised that 
honoured mother of the night used you as her informant."

    He said it too loudly.  Nabiki felt rather than heard her
father's reaction, and stopped in her walking to look back at 
him, regret breaking over her so suddenly that she found herself
at one of those rare points where she had no idea what to say.

{Busted!  I knew this moment was coming.  Ouch.}

    Soun raised his head, face half-hidden behind tangled hair.
His eyes, though, were perfectly clear.  They burned.  "Nabiki,"
he asked, very softly.  "What does he mean?"

    "Window's locked, I guess," Nabiki said, hesitantly coming 
up behind her father.  

    He nodded.  His shoulders were slumped and weary.  In the
chair, Kasumi stared straight ahead at nothing, lips tight and
motionless.  Her eyes reminded Nabiki of the painted ones of
dolls.

    "Too small to go through anyway."

{Wow, he's depressed.  Shampoo would have gone right through
the wall, and Soun could too... couldn't he?}

    Hands on the sill, her father's head was bowed so low that
his hung all about his face.  "I didn't want you to--"

his hair hung

    He said nothing more.  A divide, steep-sided and empty, had
opened between them.  Nabiki watched him walk to the chairs and
pull one next to Kasumi.  When he spoke to his oldest daughter,
his voice was pitched too low for Nabiki to hear.  Old wounds, 
the buried pain of never being able to have any real closeness at 
all to her father even as a child, throbbed anew beneath the 
scars lain over them.  Akane had been Dad's student, the follower 
of the Art.  Kasumi had kept his house.  What had she done?  It 
wasn't surprising, in the end, that it had come to this.

{A good point.  If one doesn't buy into the "Nabiki supports
the household" fanfic convention -- and I don't -- something
like this is almost inevitable, even in situations less dark
than this.}

    Kasumi never said anything back, but her father kept on
talking.  After she could not stand to look at them any longer,

{Pronoun trouble.  :)  Suggest replacing one of the "she"s in
this paragraph with "Nabiki".}

she took one of the chairs over to the corner of the room near
the window, and picked up a fashion magazine three months old 

>from the table.  She read two articles without remembering a 

single thing from them, and then the sound of the door opening 
drew her attention from the pictures of elegant women in their 
new summer colours.

    Nabiki had only met Akari briefly, and her impression had
always been that Ryoga's new girlfriend was perfect for him.
They were both cute, loyal, and slightly dim.  "Yeah, whatever."

{How... uncharitable... she is.}

    Nabiki ignored her and began to organize the disseminate 

{Isn't "disseminate" a verb?  "disparate", perhaps?}

thoughts running through her head.  If Akari had been taken as
well, then they were all obviously intended as hostages.  She'd
guess Ranma's mother would be showing up soon.  

    As she pondered, she vaguely noted her father get up and
lead the shaky Akari to a chair.  Hostages or bargaining chips,

getting up and leading  {perhaps?}

against their family and friends.

    She was riding on the back of a great dark bird.  Its 
feathers were of iron, its beak was of brass, and its eyes were
filled with molten steel that glowed a fierce red.  They flew
over an endless dark ocean that rolled and surged, white-capped,
below them.  The bird was terrible, but the only alternative was
to release her grip upon the feathers and go plunging into the
sea.

    There was no sound except for the rapid beating of the 
bird's wings, a choppy noise like the buzzing of many insects.  
The transition from dream to reality was as subtle as the change 
of seasons; the metal of the bird became the metal of the cabin, 
the black ocean became the night that sped by outside, and the 
too-fast sound of the wings Nodoka now realized was that of 
helicopter blades.

{Vivid, poetic description.  Nice.}

    "You are in no position to be making demands," Yoko replied
with what seemed a thinly-veiled contempt.  The sounds of the

seemed thinly-veiled  {"a" unnecessary?}

helicopter blades cutting through the night seemed in time to the
too-fast beatings of Nodoka's heart.  Kontongara took a mild sip

{"beats" or "beating", perhaps?}

of her wine.  The wash of light in the cabin reflected not the
least in the solid black of her glasses.  There was a memory, on
the edge of Nodoka's mind, of what Yoko's eyes had looked like
when she'd removed the shading lenses - but something else held
the memory upon that edge, and would not let it cross over into
full recollection.

{Sometimes, the undescribed is more terrible than the described.
The Lovecraftian influence again...}

    How long a time lay between those words and the next Nodoka
could not have said.  Such a thing as time had ceased to matter.
When at last Yoko spoke again, it was so quiet that Nodoka barely
heard it.  The pale woman had turned her head away, and cupped 
her chin with one ancient hand as she stared out the window.  No
blindness there; Nodoka did not remember precisely what had been
beneath those glasses, but it had not been blindness.

    "Do not speak to me of grief."

{Ouch.  Why must you make us pity these evil ones?  (Rhetorical
question...)}
   

    Unlike her sister, the forking maze of the future did not
lie open and comprehensible to her.  There was only immediacy for
her, and instinct.  There were chances, and only that.  For now,
she waited.

{Echoes of Lachesis, but, even more, of Verthandi.}

    Yamiko simply watched her cool, efficient ko-daimyo look at
Tofu, and chuckled inwardly.  Little love lost there between 
teacher and student.  On her lap she held a scrawny cat that had 
been wandering the streets of the town, and fed it scraps of meat 
that she pinched between her fingernails.  The cat purred 
contentedly, a sound that Yamiko had always found soothing and 
conducive to planning and thought.

{Sudden image of what Ernst Stavro Blofeld wants to be when he
grows up...}

    "Perhaps you are simply growing incompetent."

{Are you sure you want a paragraph break here?}

    The words cracked like a whip.  Tofu began to realize then
just how angry Yoko was, and Unagi grinned slightly with 
pleasure.  Yamiko knuckled between the cat's ears, and it arched
its back and purred louder.

    Tofu had not even noticed him, but he hid his shock well
enough.  "What--"

    Yamiko chortled softly.  A dank sound.
    
    "Eight men," Yoko said.  "Eight men bound to us.  It was
only appropriate."

{It was at this point that I realized who the fifth was.}

    Unagi leaned back slightly in his chair and looked at the 
window at the silence of the town.  "There is no further reason

looked out the window at the silent town.  {perhaps?  Looking at
silence seems too stretched a metaphor... your call.}

to delay, I think."

    "He broke her," Nabiki muttered.  "I couldn't do it, and the
son of a bitch broke her."

{Ouch.  So few words, for so much pain.}

    Oh, child.
    
    When she wrapped her arms around Nabiki's slim shoulders and
drew her close, the girl stiffened at first.  For a long minute,
Nodoka simply held her, and said nothing.  

    At last, slowly, Nabiki raised her arms and put them around
Nodoka.  She couldn't weep.  But she clung, desperately, like a
child, for a long time.

{I like your depiction of Nodoka's strength and emotionally
responsive nature here.  The spring steel (not the brittle stuff)
under the dotty-mother image is quite clear.  Applause.
The one thing I'm not sure about is whether she's that
perceptive, considering how long Ranma and Genma fooled her,
but it's not a major point, so I won't dwell on it.}

    Hours from sunrise, the hostages were taken back to the
field, and loaded into the back of van.  A certain mentality
falls upon prisoners who believe they have no hope of escape that
lets them survive.

{I agree with Gary.  Perhaps: "A certain mentality had fallen upon
them: the mentality that falls upon prisoners..."}

    There two dozen of Unagi and Tofu's men there, and perhaps 

There were two dozen  {or}  Two dozen of ... men were there,

half that number of Circle members.  The prisoners hands had

prisoners'

been bound again, and they stood in a small and silent huddle,
all terrified in their own way of what might happen next.

    After a time, five people came walking out of the night and
into the grove.  There were the two senior Circle members, and 
their ko-daimyo, and one other.  The last was the only one of 
them who bore visible weapons among the five; two sheathed swords 
at his waist.  Nabiki saw the clothing he wore, though his head 
had been covered by a blank hood of black leather, and recognized 
him.  She let out the tiniest sound of grief, not even a whisper. 
Next to her, Soun glanced up at his middle daughter, and looked 
away.

{It's quite clear that this is Kuno, thanks to his earlier
appearance.}

    The dozen Circle members, bright and chaotic patches of 
colour against the dark clothing of the others, linked hands and
ringed Yoko and Yamiko.  Unagi and Tofu moved closer to the
prisoners.  Tofu gave the barest of grins to Kasumi, and Soun
snarled deep in his throat and almost started forward.  A soft
word from Nodoka checked him.

{Man, that must have been some word...}

    Soun raised his head from the ground to see the women
walking in an arrow shape towards the stream, his wounded 
daughter pulled along by the leaders.  Handcuffed or not, he was
going too--

{Maybe I'm just too nitpicky, but "arrow shape" means to me a
long line with a small wedge at one end.  "Arrowhead", "wedge"
(if the interior is filled), "vee" (if it isn't) or "vic" (if
you're a Brit) give a better image.  Up to you...}

    A foot landed on the small of his back, not hard, but with
enough pressure to prevent him moving.  Unagi, perhaps ten years
older than him, looked down.  "Honoured mother of the shadows 
will not harm her permanently," he murmured reassuringly.  "Do
not fight or I will be forced to hurt you further."

{What a nice guy he is, for an evil minion.  :) }

    "And quite a few more of mine are close at hand," Fuhaiko
said, picking up as the other woman stopped talking.  "I've been
having them move into the area over the last few days.  
Concurrent, I might add, with your rather surreptitious movements 
of your own.  You shouldn't have left us out, Yoko."

{Redundant?  Could change "your" to "the" or cut "of your own"...}

    Soun glanced over to his daughters.  Nabiki caught his eye,
and he looked away.  He could not bear to look at his middle 
daughter, now that he understood.  Oh, Nabiki, he thought
mournfully.  How could you betray your family?  The forgiveness 
of that did not yet lie within him, and he hated himself for
that.

{Well stated.  Nabiki's got to earn forgiveness.  More on this
later...}

    "Do I not."  Yoko's voice was low but triumphant.  "Who do

not?"

you think I am, Fuhaiko?  I am the eyes of the night, and _I can
see all of what you have done_!"

    Soun saw Yamiko give the slightest, and most unnoticeable of
hand signals to Unagi.

{...but he noticed it?  Hmmm... a tad too hyperbolic, methinks.}

    Fuhaiko leapt, bolt after bolt flying from her hands.  Yoko
dodged, shielded, and counter-attacked with a wave of force that
sliced the tops off several trees but failed completely to hit
the other sorceress.  Somewhere on the edge of her mind, the
realized that the Circle had just been broken.  Fourteen hundred
years of tradition thrown out, just like that.

{This is what I was expecting when I said that evil held the seeds
of its own destruction. Yoko has to know Samofere's prophecy --
why didn't she realize that it was talking about this? Or did she,
and was arrogant enough to proceed anyway? Or, if she accepted the
prophecy, why wasn't she better prepared for it?  Evil is Stupid.}

    "Fuhaiko and Nenreiko attempted to usurp power from me, the
one chosen by the master to be the supreme mistress of the 
Circle Eternal," she said crisply.  "They received what they 
deserved after making false accusations.  Do you understand 
that?"

    "Supreme mistress!" one of the Circle members cried out.  
"There is no such thing!  Power is shared between--"

    Yoko waved her hand.  The woman fell without a sound, broken
like a toy.  No one said anything else for what felt like a very 
long time.  

{And now the Circle is broken in another way, and reformed as a
pyramid.  Nice symbolism.}

    Magic.  That was all it could have been.  And something
different, more powerful, than Ranma's transformations or
otherwise.  An entire forest had changed in front of her eyes.
She had felt the power in the air, the invisible presence of
something totally beyond her experience.  And it frightened her.
There was nothing humorous about it, nothing laughable as 
Ranma's curse had been so often.  It was primal, deep, and
powerful.

{Of course, so's Ranma, now.  If Nabiki ever meets Ranma again,
I don't think she'll find him quite so amusing... not if she's
smart.}

    If she could manage to elude whoever might be pursuing, and
get out of this forest, and get to a phone, then maybe there'd be
hope for the rest of them.  Maybe Kasumi and her father and 
Nodoka and Akari had gotten away too.  Maybe they'd all escape.

{"a phone"?  Gods, what an idiot.  Who's she gonna call?  The
police?  She STILL doesn't understand.}
     

    "Nice bunny," Nabiki tried.
    
    The monstrous animal growled, and leapt the stream in one
bound.  A tremor shook the earth when it landed.  Nabiki saw
that there was a gaping wound on its side, blood darkly matting
the fur, and a scrap of what looked like clothing in its teeth.

{Don't tell me.  A bloody bunny?  Argh.}

    A blur leapt from the darkness of the woods, and three 
quick impacts sounded, one after the other.  The rabbit dropped
as if poleaxed.  

    A slender boy about her age landed lightly on his feet
before the rabbit, a long push-broom held loosely in one hand
like a staff.  He wore a short black jacket over a blue tunic and 
pants, and the white headband did little to hold back his unruly 
bangs; at the back, his hair had been gathered into a small, 
stubby ponytail.  "You'd better head back," he said.  "This place 
is full of traps."  The words sounded more automatic than 
anything else.  There was a terrible weariness in his eyes.

{I was just wondering what he was up to while all of this was
going on...}

    Nabiki's mind whirled, found the name.  "You're Shinnosuke, 
right?"

    "Oh, Nabiki," Kasumi murmured.  Her hand moved up and down
Nabiki's back, again and again.  "Oh, do you think he wouldn't
have done it anyway?  It's him, Nabiki.  It's him who did it.  
Not you."

    "How can you say that?"  With a hard twist of her body,
Nabiki broke free from her sister's arms.  "After what I did?  
Don't you get it, Kasumi?  I was their damn pawn!  I sold us 
out!  I took their money and--"

    Kasumi smiled.  Her eyes were infinitely old in that moment, 
deep as oceans.  "It's okay, Nabiki.  I forgive you."

    Here in night, in the tangled underbrush and the mist and
the rising trees, there was nowhere left to hide.  From herself,

>from anything.  Nabiki couldn't look at her sister.  It was not

possible to meet that gaze.  The next word was torn from her
throat as if by some unstoppable force; her voice was bare, 
absolutely naked, completely vulnerable: "Why?"

    In the small space between them, Kasumi stretched out her
hand.  "Because I love you, Nabiki.  Because you're my sister.  
Do you think you've fallen far?  I tell you that some have fallen
farther still, and come back."

    Nabiki couldn't say anything.  Words would not let 
themselves be formed.

{If Nabiki has any shred of conscience left -- and you've made
clear that she does -- Kasumi's unconditional forgiveness cuts
her like a knife.  She's not off her own hook yet.}

    "Mother's calling, Nabiki," Kasumi said.  Her smile was
beautiful in the darkness.  "We have to her.  We'll be safe 
there."

    This is not my sister, some tiny part of Nabiki thought.
These are not her eyes, or her words.  But it was, she realized.
This was Kasumi.  As if Tofu had never touched her.  As if all
her life she'd been only a plant growing in the shadow, and this 
was what she would have been if the shadows had never been there.

{Er... I think she was right the first time.  Either this isn't
really Kasumi, or Kasumi's channelling the Dragon of Life...}

    "Okay," Nabiki heard herself say.  She reached out and took
Kasumi's hand in hers.  Their fingers intertwined, tightly, like
ivy.

    Someone laughed, nearby.  "You'd best be careful, girls."
>From behind a tree, Tofu stepped out.  He was grinning like a
shark.  Trapped within the lenses of his glasses, the moonlight
turned his gaze into a blank and unreadable expanse of silver.  
"This forest is just _full_ of monsters."

{Eeek!  If I have chiropractic nightmares, it's YOUR fault!}

    Yamiko made a soft sound that carried yet through the
darkness, a thin and rheumy chuckle that grated on the senses.
Akari wondered faintly just what it was that the shadow-wielder
hid under her mask.

{There are some things man was not meant to know...}

Down they pulled her, down towards the bottom, towards the dark 
and unseen end.  Without a deep breath of air to hold in her 
lungs, it did not take long for the night to come down.

{Fortunately she's picked the single best body of water in the
world to drown in.}

    Kasumi's voice was strong and steady as she spoke.  "No,
Tofu.  I'm not afraid of you any longer.  I used to be.  But now
mother's shown me what you are."

{She's channeling the Dragon of Life, all right.  Yay!}

    "This is the last, Tofu," Kasumi said.  Her voice was calm
as her eyes.  "By oak and ash and thorn, you will leave us now,
or you will die."

{And yet another mythology is tied in.  Nice to see the old
words still have power in this distant land.}

    Nabiki saw a single wave behind Tofu that didn't move, and
her eyes widened.  Then, in a fountaining column of earth and
stone, the head rose atop a towering serpentine neck.  It was 
massive and ancient.  Moonlight edged emerald scales with silver.  
White-bearded, it had the vague resemblance of a patriarchal old 
man turned into a serpent.
    
    Nabiki stared, in awe and fear.  As if responding to the
dragon's presence, the mist suddenly rose until it was thick
throughout all the air, giving the entire scene the unearthly 
quality of a nightmare or a dream.
    
    Yamata no Orochi.  The lord of the forest.

{In case you were wondering, the hairs on the back of my neck
just stood up.  Man, there's cavalry, and there's CAVALRY!}

    Cradling her broken arm against her side, Nabiki got to her
feet and began to walk towards the spot where Kasumi lay.  
Halfway there, something crunched underfoot, and she looked down
to see Tofu's glasses, broken and twisted under the heel of her
shoe.  

{Very nice touch.}

The overall impression of this chapter is increasing tension.
33 was relatively light, with some victories for the Good Guys,
and 34 was logistic -- moving pieces into position -- but this
one grabbed the screws and CRANKED.  Aiya.  The story is wound
up tight, and is going to go SPROING real soon, I can feel it.

A great read, as always, I'm looking forward to the next chapter,
as always, and I really like getting it in one part, too.  :)

Thanks for writing and sharing!


Vince Seifert    Network Analyst     seifertv@csus.edu
http://webpages.csus.edu/~seifertv/  updated 1998Jun04
CSUS hired me to build their network, not to speak for the university.