Stupid rassum-frassum e-mail... Ignore all my attachments...

I have copied. I have pasted. If it doesn't go through this time, I will
officially stop trying. I swear to you all, as the Admins are my witness, I
will set my computer on fire before I try to post this chapter a FOURTH
time.

Once again, I am deeply sorry for this. I don't know why my Inbox has become
deranged. Please C&C, if you actually bothered to open this by now. 

**********

OBLIGATORY LEGAL DISCLAIMER : Some of these guys aren't mine. The 
Sailor Senshi belong to DIC and Kodansha, while the Troopers are owned
by Sunrise and Graz Entertainment. Okay? So don't bother suing me. I'm 
a student. 

                   RONIN SUMMER VI : DARK CRUSADE

         A Sailor Moon / Yoroiden Samurai Troopers cross-over

             by Morgan Hudson (dataraven_659@excite.com)

Chapter Sixteen : The Iceman Cometh

	Youja didn't bleed; they couldn't. There was no blood, no 
flesh behind their armoured shells. The forged metal plates, with 
their almost seamless joins and carefully meshed joints, embraced 
nothing more substantial than smoke itself. And yet, arguably, 
something infinitely more precious - at least to the youja in question.
The swirling, sooty mist that burbled inside their armour, that poured 
from their wounds and drifted off into the void, was the very essence 
of their selves, the core of their astral beings. 

	Youja didn't bleed, but they could bleed to death.

	Certainly, Yoen thought as he futilely clutched one gauntlet 
to the side of his cuirass, there had been enough of his troops doing 
so over the past few days. First had been Enka, he recalled, who had 
fallen at the hands of a vile creature in human form that Yoen now 
knew was called 'Thraw'. Yoen had seen, on the night of that fateful 
raid, as Enka was struck from behind by a dirk that tore straight 
through his breastplate and gouted his essence faster than a tilted 
bucket emptied itself of water. Ichimatsu had been next, gone mere 
minutes later when that same monster had relieved the youja of his 
head. In the space of those few moments, two of the most experienced 
members of the Guard had been exterminated, and Yoen had been helpless 
to save either. 

	The Guard had done their best that night, he knew. They had 
been caught off-guard, outnumbered, and woefully unprepared for the 
enemy they fought, yet had nonetheless managed to do their duty. The 
Lady had been protected from those foul creatures, and that was worth 
any cost to themselves. But still... the thought rankled him. Twelve 
youja, the best, the most highly-trained and empowered members of 
their breed, and their numbers had been halved in a single night. 
There had been Enka and Ichimatsu, yes, but then to lose Kusuburu, 
Ippuku, Endan, and Kemuri as well! A mere day later, and Thraw had 
claimed two more of their number; bold Hakuen and brave Baien, their 
spirits lost in a vain attempt to prevent the capture of the Lady. And 
after she had endangered herself to save them, no less!

	This Thraw creature was a devil, Yoen thought, as he watched 
the black smoke ooze sluggishly from the piercing wound in his side, 
tightening his gauntlet's grip over it. Had Thraw been spawned from 
the Abyss? Did he exist solely to return them all to the nothingness 
that had spawned them? Of twelve, eight destroyed in the space of two 
days! Only four remained, maybe fewer; there was no way of knowing if 
young Shien and Kokuen still existed. 

	He felt a wave of concern wash over him, and turned to look 
at Shouen. Without the presence of any humans or youma, there was no 
need to primitively vocalise their thoughts to each other. In response 
to his comrade's worry, he gave the mental equivalent of a pat on the 
shoulder as Shouen uncorked a small container at his hip and poured 
gunpowder down the barrel of his musket. All is well, Yoen thought to 
the crimson youja. No need to be worried. 

	But you are worried, Shouen responded silently. I can feel 
that as surely as you do. Why mourn for those gone? They are gone. 
Enka, Endan, Kemuri, Ippuku, Ichimatsu, even Hakuen and Baien... they 
are merely names now. Meaningless. The stuff of their essence has 
returned to the source, defused itself back into non-being. They are 
no more.

	But they WERE, Yoen argued. They used to be. From the day that 
the Lady drew their essence from the Astral Plane, bonded it to their 
shells, they existed. Their skills, their experiences, their LIVES... 
All are gone. Is it any different from the death of a human?

	Humans have souls, Shouen noted as he drew a lead ball from 
the pouch he wore over his shoulder and wrapped it in cloth, sliding 
the bullet down his musket's barrel with brisk, powerful thrusts of 
his ramrod. We do not. Our existence was formed from ether, and to 
ether we return. Our quondam members are now as they were before the 
Lady formed them; nothing. Even their shells have evaporated by this 
point. There is nothing to remember them. 

	As there will be nothing to remember us, Yoen thought with a 
psychic sigh. 

	The Lady is well, Shouen reminded his leader. Uncorking the 
small container at his hip yet again, the youja placed some powder on 
the pan of his rifle and snapped the frizzen down to cover it.

	There is that, Yoen admitted. We have protected her. And we 
shall continue to do so - she gave us existence; we owe her that much 
in return. 

	Despite his bold thoughts, however, he could already feel 
himself growing weaker. The battle with those strange insect creatures 
had cost him dearly; his silver shell was pitted and scratched from 
blows dealt by their blade-like arms, and the metal plates had been 
rent in several places. His wounds were not major, but there was no 
way for any but the Lady herself to heal them, and with every second 
that passed another part of his essence drifted away on the breeze. It 
might take days, even weeks, but eventually there wouldn't be enough 
of him left to hold together. His armour would collapse, and the last 
vestiges of his identity would float into oblivion. 

	Youja didn't bleed, but they could bleed to death, and Yoen 
knew he was doing so. Shouen, as well, had tried with little success 
to staunch his wounds; Yoen sensed the ripples of pain that writhed 
around his colleague with every motion. As he watched, Shouen bent 
over and grabbed a thick tuft of millet that was growing wild between 
the brambles, brush, and pine needles that littered the forest floor. 
With a sharp tug, the youja tore the coarse grass from the ground and 
held it over a gash in his pauldron, black mist seeping through the 
matted plants. 

	But slower. If Yoen had actual eyes, he would have blinked. 
Instead, the glowing blank orbs floating in his helmet's eyeslot 
simply dimmed sharply before flaring back to life. As he watched, 
Shouen forced the millet into the wound, plugging the tear with matted 
grass. 

	A branch snapped, and both youja turned their heads, lunging 
to their feet as they stared in the direction of the sound. Grabbing 
his bisento from where it stood propped against a nearby tree, Yoen 
let the shaft of the weapon fall into his other hand and shook a 
dollop of gleet from its scimitar-like blade. Shouen quickly raised 
his musket, sighting down the long barrel into the dark gloom of the 
forest. 

	Don't go off half-cocked, Yoen silently reminded his 
subordinate.

	I never do, Shoen thought in response, easing his weapon's 
hammer back the rest of the way with his thumb. The sharp, ratcheting 
sound of the tumbler echoed through the night, as the few birds who 
had been daring to sing fell as silent as the armoured forms that 
stood ready for yet another wave of attackers. Slowly, the sounds of 
their oncoming adversaries began to filter through the still air of 
the forest...

	"Are you ABSOLUTELY sure this is the right way?" The speaker 
had a sprightly tone, mocking and yet cheerful at the same time. 

	"Ask me that one more time and I'm gonna stretch you until I 
look you in the eye, kid! For the last time, we're not lost!" Unlike 
the first voice, this was uttered in a dull rumble that caused the 
branches overhead to tremble. 

	"Fine," the first voice replied, coming closer. "I mean, I'm 
only asking because we've been walking for a VERY long time..."

	The bushes rustled, and a small human with short dark hair 
popped out of the brush like a rabbit. He was dressed in dark slacks 
and a shirt which might once have been white, before a healthy blend 
of grass-stains, dirt, blood and sweat had turned it into something 
more like an impressionist painting. His collar hung open, and had 
long since lost any starch that it may have once possessed. He jolted 
to a stop, looking up at the two armoured figures looming over him 
with an air of utter resignation as they slowly lowered their weapons.

	"Okay," he sighed, "are you here to arrest someone new, or 
just back up the other pair? And do you, by any chance, have anything 
vaguely edible? We haven't eaten since I got here, and I don't like 
the way all these youma have been eyeing me."

	"Talk to the Senshi," a gigantic youma grumbled as he crashed 
through the underbrush and circled around to stand beside the small 
human. He was a minotaur, with the lower legs and head of a bull and 
the torso of a man. Vines and creepers hung from his sharp, heavy 
horns, and the short black fur that covered his body was matted with 
sweat and mud. Small red eyes narrowed in a dangerous squint, and the 
youma shook his head as he snorted loudly. "They're the ones who keep 
talking about hamburger and steak. If I weren't such a good-natured 
fellow, they'd be smears on the landscape by now."

	"We've got company," the human said to the minotaur, who 
scowled and clenched his fists. 

	"I'm not THAT blind, boy!" The youma focused his gaze on the 
two youja as best he could, clouds of steam blasting from his nostrils 
as he leaned forward and sneered, thick lips pulling back from fangs 
the size of a man's fingers. "All right," he admitted, "so it's the 
rest of those damned tin men. What do they want?" 

	"I think they're here to arrest us again." 

	"They weren't there to arrest us the FIRST time!" 

	"Okay, so they're here to arrest the Storm Senshi again. 
Poh-TAY-toe, Poh-TAH-toe." The boy put his hands in his pockets and 
shrugged. "Really, Takenoko, you shouldn't get so worked up over 
little details like who's under arrest and who isn't. It's not good 
for your blood pressure!"

	At roughly that moment, a lithe, athletic woman in a golden 
leotard skipped around a tree and vaulted onto the minotaur's 
shoulders, resting her elbow on his head as she cupped her chin with 
one gloved hand. Large bows of midnight black graced her chest and 
back, while a pleated skirt of the same velvety material swirled 
around her hips. Blonde hair framed her face to hang at her shoulders, 
a far cry from her once ankle-length mane, and her lips were quirked 
in a smile. 

	"Gee," she said whimsically, "Empress Kayura sure seems to 
want us pretty bad. And to think, we never even knew that she was 
interested..." 
	
	"Sure," a tall and leggy brunette woman groaned as she 
stumbled over an exposed tree root and nearly fell face-first into 
the clearing, "just go traipsing off without a care in the world, and 
leave me to do all the grunt work, as usual. I mean, it's not like I'm 
weighed down, or unbalanced, or anything! Don't worry about me!" She 
was dressed in a navy blue sweater that was far too small for her; the 
sleeves ended at her forearms and the hem strained to cover her hips. 
The only other thing she wore was a smaller woman in a blue leotard, 
carrying her like a living backpack. The petite, blue-haired girl 
seemed to be sleeping, chewing absently on her comrade's ponytail as 
she slumbered.

	"Very well," the blonde replied airily, "I shan't." Raising 
an eyebrow, she turned her attention back towards Yoen and Shouen, 
somehow managing to give the impression of an eagle staring down at 
some mice from her lofty perch. "Now then," she sighed, "I suppose 
you'll be giving some boring speech about how my sister and I have 
abandoned our posts and blah, blah, blah, treason, blah, blah, blah, 
placed in custody, blah, blah, blah, executed at earliest possible 
convenience." She smiled. "Is that about it? Because we'd really like 
to get around to ignoring you as soon as we can."

	"Yeah, okay," the dark-haired boy interjected. "Hang on a 
minute there, Lightstorm; I think these guys were going to tell us 
something about food." He was wringing his hands and gazing hopefully 
at Yoen and Shouen as the two youja shared a confused look. 

	Yoen shrugged and shouldered his bisento, his other arm snaking
around his torso and clamping down on the wound in his side. Shouen 
glanced briefly at the boy and let his eyes dim slightly. They vaguely 
recalled the small human from earlier, but he had seemed mostly 
harmless, and not worthy of much attention. 

	The brush rustled one more time, as Kokuen and Shien emerged 
and joined the rest of the straggly group. On noticing their 
companions, Shien's eyes flashed yellow and a wave of unadulterated 
glee surged throughout the clearing, so vivid that it seemed as if 
Yoen could cut it with his blade. Kokuen, on the other hand, looked 
ready to hide under a convenient rock. 

	"HAH!" Shien blurted out, pointing at his ebon-armoured 
partner. "You're not in command any more, Kokuen! That means I don't 
have to let them live!"

	"That's nice," the human said absently, waving one hand at 
the pair of youja as though to fan them away. "Now, uh, you DID say 
you had food, right?" 

	"Woah!" Lightstorm leapt to her feet, causing Takenoko to 
wince as her high heels dug into his shoulders. "And just who the 
hell said you were LETTING us live, jarhead? Don't go getting any 
fancy ideas just because we've been nice to you..."

	"Uh, about that food..." 

	"You are prisoners of the Empire, girl," Shien intoned. "I 
should think that your ultimate fates were obvious. Having been found 
guilty of treason, our Empress will no doubt have you executed on 
sight."

	"I keep telling you," Kokuen argued testily, "had their deaths 
been the wish of our Empress, I feel she would have included such in 
our orders. We were merely sent to find the Storm Senshi and return 
them to her. She said nothing about execution at all!" 

	Yoen hemmed thoughtfully as he overlooked the two bickering 
youja. Both Shien and Kokuen had valid points, but he wasn't sure he 
approved of the zealousness with which they seemed to be anticipating 
the Lady's wishes. It bordered on insubordination, to assume they knew 
her mind. Still, they were both mere weeks old, two among the legions 
of youja freshly created to help fill the gaps in the Lady's army 
after so many were lost battling Jadeite. Why, Kokuen's very position 
was still fresh, created to provide representation in the Guard to 
holdings which had until recently belonged to the demon Saranbo. A bit 
of over-enthusiasm was to be expected from fledglings during their 
first true campaign.

	Come to think of it, he supposed the Storm Senshi were still 
rather new to things, themselves. True, they had played a part in the 
final battle with Jadeite, but he was uncertain exactly how much action
they had seen before that. For all he knew, they could be nearly as raw
as most of his Guard. Perhaps it was best to be merciful towards them, 
until and unless the Lady herself could decide their final fate. 

	"Guard Kokuen," Yoen rumbled, "we two youja seek permission 
to join your command for the duration."

	"Your assistance shall no doubt prove invaluable," Kokuen 
replied automatically, responding to the formal request as he had been 
conditioned to. "I welcome you to my cause."

	"We shall seek to prove our worth," Yoen answered, finishing 
the formalities as he bowed his head to his subordinate. "May Kayura 
guide us."

	"Okay," the human muttered to the minotaur, "what the hell was 
all that about?" 

	"I'm not sure, Jun," the huge youma responded, shaking his 
head slowly. "I've been working with these damned tin soldiers for 
weeks - most of the time they don't talk at all, and if they do, it's 
just nonsense like that."

	Sensing their confusion, Shouen walked over towards the pair 
and rested his long musket across his crimson shoulders. The smoke 
rising from his wounds wreathed around him like a cape of soot as 
he peered at Jun and Takenoko with his blank, soulless eyes. 

	"Commander Yoen has just arranged for the two of us to join 
your party, until such time as Empress Kayura can be found. For the 
time being, we nine shall travel together." His glowing eyes narrowed 
slightly. "Is that clear enough for you?" 

	"Crystal clear," Jun replied with a grin and a shrug. "So if 
we're all friends now, would you mind sharing some grub? Like I said, 
it's been a few days, and..."

	"We have no food to give you," Shouen said brusquely, 
interrupting the young man's spiel. "None of us are carrying any 
provisions."

	"What? No food?" Jun looked as though the youja had just told 
him there was no Santa Claus. "Why not?"

	"We are youja. We do not eat, drink, sleep or breathe. To us, 
rations of any kind would merely be excess and useless baggage."

	"Huh." Jun scowled and placed his fists on his hips. "Right 
then. Well, can't blame a guy for trying, right?" A look of 
concentration on his face, the dark-haired boy looked around the 
clearing. Suddenly he froze, his body stiffening as though electricity 
were coursing through him. "Takenoko," he asked calmly. "How hungry 
are we? I mean, seriously." 

	"Starving," Takenoko answered, rubbing his muscled stomach 
with a hand the size of a serving platter. "Why?" 

	"Because we're gonna eat something, man. We can't keep walking 
like this, or we're bound to keel over." Jun cleared his throat and 
walked over to where one of the mantid corpses lay sprawled on the 
ground, ichor pooling from where Yoen's bisento had cleaved it from 
thorax to abdomen.

	"Hey, Takenoko," he asked, "you ever have lobster?"

	"Those aren't lobsters, Jun. They're giant bugs."

	"What did I tell you about getting worked up over little 
details like that?" Jun asked with an amused smirk. 

**********

	In retrospect, Jun admitted to himself, they really had been 
more like bugs than lobsters. By the time the youja had finished 
shelling them and he had put the meat on spits, it had smelled like a 
skunk swallowed a hand grenade. Still, after two days it had been 
better than nothing. With Takenoko's direction, they had even managed 
to save enough that night to keep them fed for the rest of the week. 

	It tasted better as jerky, he thought as he took a bite of 
the dried meat in his hand. Kind of sour and greasy, but not as bad 
as when it had been fresh. He'd had to march with stomach cramps 
after that first day. Sailor Lightstorm had claimed that she was being 
bothered too, but Jun suspected that was just so that Takenoko would 
carry her. After all, Thunderstorm and Icestorm had eaten more than 
either of them, and neither one had any problems whatsoever. 

	"So," he asked, "are we still going west?" 

	"Just another minute," Kokuen said, as he stared intently at 
his scythe, which had been thrust into the forest floor. Yoen and 
Shouen crouched near him, one looking up at the sky and the other 
joining Kokuen in the staring contest he seemed to have entered with 
his own weapon. With all the speed of cold molasses, the scythe's 
shadow moved towards the three youja. Shien leaned against a nearby 
tree, his gaze on the Storm Senshi, who were doing their absolute 
best to ignore his attention. Icestorm was trying to climb a tree, 
Thunderstorm was trying to remind her that she didn't know how, and 
Lightstorm had plopped down on the ground with her hands behind her 
head and a smile on her face. Since they'd gone and found such a nice 
sunny place, she'd explained, she was going to work on her tan. 

	"When we first planted this weapon," Kokuen explained over 
his shoulder, "we made sure that it was casting no shadow. Now, as the 
sun has moved, a shadow has appeared." 

	"Yep," Jun said with a smile, "and since the sun moves from 
east to west, that means that the shadow we see is pointing east. 
We walk in the other direction, and we'll know we're heading west. 
Neat trick, huh? I learned it when I was a kid." 

	"This is really humiliating," Takenoko grumbled from his seat 
against a tree that seemed to be leaning slightly under his weight. "I
don't get lost THAT often."

	"It's not you, big guy," Jun explained. "I mean, in the forest
it's easy for anyone to get turned around. We don't know any landmarks,
and a lot of the foliage is hard to tell apart. It only makes sense 
for us to stop every few hours and check our direction." With a sigh, 
the young man stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Now if Nasuti were 
here," he continued, "we could borrow her compass and use that. But 
since she isn't, and I don't pack for these things the way she does, 
we'll have to make do."

	"Uh, little help here, guys?" 

	With a soft groan, Jun looked over his shoulder. There, arms 
and legs both wrapped firmly around a tree branch and eyes squeezed 
shut with terror, Sailor Icestorm dangled several dozen feet above the 
ground. Standing at the foot of the tall old pine, Sailor Thunderstorm 
was tapping one foot and looking peeved. 

	"You just had to do it, didn't you?" the brunette fumed, as 
her foot tapping increased in frequency. "This is the second time 
this week, you know. I keep telling you, and you never listen; YOU 
CAN'T CLIMB TREES! Why do you insist on climbing trees?" 

	"I-I-I think maybe that Sailor Mercury chick likes to climb 
trees," Icestorm stammered. "I m-must have picked it up from her when 
they m-made me." Opening one eye a slit, she squeaked and tightened 
her grip until the branch began to creak. "C-Can we please talk about 
this, like, when we're both on the GROUND?" 

	"Well don't look at me," Thunderstorm snapped back. "I'm not 
exactly dressed to go shimmying up there after you. This thing I'm 
wearing's barely decent when I'm standing still!" 

	Lightstorm lifted her head, glancing over at her two sisters 
and fellow clones. "I just don't want to," she said simply, and went 
back to tanning.

	"I'm too big to get up there," Takenoko said, staring at Jun. 
"I suppose I could always shake her out of the tree..."

	"NO! NO!" Icestorm wailed from her precarious perch in the 
branches of the pine. "NO TREE SHAKEY!" 

	"...Unless, of course, you've got a better idea than that, 
boy," Takenoko finished, with a truly evil smile that showed off each 
and every one of his long, sharp fangs. 

	"I hate each and every one of you," Jun said softly, as he 
walked over to the tree in question. Looking up, he cupped his hands 
to his mouth and shouted up to the frightened Senshi. 

	"Hey, Icestorm! I'm coming up to get you! Just stay calm, and 
I'll be right there! Okay?" 

	"Okay!" A small voice drifted down from the girl as she did her
best to graft herself to the branch she was hanging from. 

	Grumbling under his breath, Jun slid a katana blade out of the 
belt loop in his pants and tossed it aside. No point letting it get 
caught on something, he figured. Rolling up his sleeves and rubbing 
his hands together, he turned to the tall young woman standing next 
to him. 

	"Mind giving me a boost, Thunderstorm?" 

	The brunette stared blankly at him, then laced her fingers 
together and held her hands out at waist level. Jun stared at her 
hands, and placed his hands on his hips. 

	"Bit of a high step for a boost, isn't it?"

	"If you're expecting me to bend over," Thunderstorm replied 
calmly, "you should've lent me a longer sweater. Jump up, and I'll 
boost you."

	"Fair enough," Jun answered, and placed his hands on the taller
woman's shoulders, bracing himself as he hopped up and placed his 
foot in her hands. "Okay," he said, grunting from the effort of 
holding himself up with his arms, "BOOST!" 

	With a grunt of her own, Thunderstorm shoved his foot up as 
hard as she could and Jun quickly grabbed ahold of one of the nearby 
branches, his face pressing against the coarse bark as he felt 
Thunderstorm release his foot and step back, muttering something 
dangerous under her breath. Takenoko mumbled something back about not 
looking, and Lightstorm said something about not caring. He let his 
legs swing back and forth a little before trying to find some purchase 
for his feet. Stupid Icestorm, he thought as he began to clamber up 
the tree. Who climbs up a tree they can't climb back down? Other, 
apparently, than himself. That WAS going to be a heck of a drop once 
he got back down to that last branch, wasn't it?

	Compiling a list of who in their group he had offended the 
least and what arguments he might use to enlist their help in getting 
back onto the ground ate up a fair amount of time. Before Jun actually 
had an answer in mind, he was already one branch below Icestorm. 
Pausing to catch his breath, he glanced down for a moment and 
quickly decided that was a bad idea. Exhaling loudly, he gripped the 
trunk of the tree with one hand and looked off into the distance. Not 
down. Down was definitely off his list of looking options for the time 
being. 

	"Well, now that's just weird," he said with a note of surprise 
as he saw one of the single strangest things in his life. Demon Lords 
he could handle. Black magic was old hat to him. Heck, he had been 
personally invited to a massacre, once - albeit more as a witness than 
a participant. Blood and gore and things that went bump in the night 
hadn't bothered him since grade school. 

	But snow? When it was so warm he was sweating through his 
shirt? Not to mention one that only snowed over a single piece of 
land: the wind whipped the snow as haphazardly as usual, but there 
was an obvious, clearly defined border to the storm. From his vantage 
point, it seemed to form a perfect -if large- square. 

	"Hey Icestorm," he called up to the petrified girl dangling 
above his head. "Take a look over there, to the west. Is it just me, 
or are we all a few hours away from walking into the weirdest blizzard 
ever?"

	Resolutely, the young woman shook her head and clutched her 
branch even harder. The branch, which had been creaking and groaning 
for some time in an attempt to drop some discreet hints against such 
action, finally gave up on the effort and splintered into a lifetime 
supply of toothpicks instead. With a yelp of shock, Sailor Icestorm 
dropped towards the earth like a blue-haired meteor. Reacting on what 
what was probably instinct -but which he would later argue was sheer 
idiocy- Jun thrust out his arms and lunged forward in an attempt to 
catch her. 

	Given his own somewhat untenable position at the time, this 
was not the best of tactical decisions. Jun felt a sudden jolt as 
the girl landed in his arms, followed immediately by the queasy feeling
of his balance shifting as his head and feet rapidly switched 
orientation. By the time he actually registered the sensation of his 
toes scraping off of the branch -and one shoe off of his foot- both 
branch and shoe were distant memories. The world was a blur of green, 
and one which was blurring far faster than he wanted it to. The sound 
of screaming filled his ears, and his lungs burned as he fell. Smaller 
twigs and needles scratched at his face and body like skeletal 
fingers, and Jun actually had a moment to hope that they didn't wind 
up splattering themselves on one of the wider, stronger tree limbs 
below them. 

	As quickly as it had started, it stopped. The world lurched 
violently, and Jun's stomach leapt up behind his lungs as he came 
to a sudden halt. For a few seconds, he stared at the grass that 
was growing haphazardly from the earth a few feet below his toes. 
Something slammed into the back of his head, and when it bounced 
to the ground he noticed it was his shoe. Well, that was good. He'd 
been afraid it got stuck up there. 

	Icestorm lay on the ground as well, looking up at him with a 
sheepish grin as she rubbed the back of her head. At first, Jun 
thought she was rotating, but decided that might just be a touch of 
vertigo. Then he realised that it was actually HIM who was slowly 
twisting back and forth, and thought to turn his head. 

	A massive pair of thick, muscular pectorals stared back at him.
With a deep chortle, he was lifted higher until he was looking his 
saviour in the face. Small red eyes twinkled with amusement from behind
a broad, whiskered snout, and Jun smiled weakly as he waved to the 
minotaur holding him. 

	"Well," Takenoko said with another chortle, "maybe now you 
realise why I spend all of my time on the ground. It's pretty damn 
hard to fall out of a meadow, and you usually won't make as much 
noise coming down if you do." He gently shook the boy, and Jun bobbed 
up and down like a fishing hook on the end of a line. The minotaur was 
holding him in the air by the back of his pants, he realised, and 
wondered if it would have been less embarrassing to just hit the ground
and take his chances.

	"Here," the massive youma grumbled good-naturedly as he 
gingerly set Jun down. "Try to get the jelly out of your legs, kid. 
Walk it off; you're fine."

	"R-right," Jun stammered, and thoughtfully braced himself with 
one hand on one of Takenoko's legs as his own pair trembled forcefully.
His fingers were tingling, and that, combined with the sensation of 
somebody rubbing ice cubes up and down his spine, was enough to tell 
him that his body was just beginning to come down from the adrenaline 
high. No damage, but it would be another minute before he trusted 
himself to stand completely under his own power.

	"Hey, Takenoko," he said, in an attempt to make conversation 
while he waited for the feeling to return to his feet, "What's the 
weather usually like around here? I mean, do you get many freak 
snowstorms this time of year?"

	"None, ever." Takenoko crossed his arms across his barrel-like 
chest and huffed. "We're too far south for that kind of weather, Jun. 
At least, at this time of year. Maybe up closer to the poles there's 
blizzards right now, but if there's any around here, it'd be the first 
time in about a thousand years. Why?" 

	Jun explained what he had seen while in the tree, and watched 
as Takenoko's expression slowly shifted from one of polite interest 
to intense disbelief and, finally, thoughtfulness. The youma narrowed 
his small eyes and scratched his muzzle, his thick fingers rasping 
against the stiff whiskers that grew there. He looked down at Jun with 
a question in his gaze, then snorted and shook his head, placing his 
hands on his hips and examining his hooves as though someone had 
written the answer he was looking for there. This must be what uffish 
thought looked like, Jun decided, and waited patiently for the 
minotaur to finish. 

	"Well," Takenoko finally declared, choosing his words as though
he might be struck down by the gods for selecting the wrong one, "It  
could just be a freak storm, I guess. Or maybe one of the boys set up 
shop and didn't bother writing to tell me about it. I suppose we should
swing by and give it a look-see, just in case. It's not too far out of 
our way, at least."

	"Cool," Jun declared, and glanced around the clearing. "You 
guys done finding east?" he asked the youja, who nodded as they rose 
to their feet and picked up their weapons in expectation of the march 
ahead. Which reminded him... 

	"Hey, anybody seen my sword? I'd hate to lose it before I got 
a chance to give it back to Naaza." 

	Thunderstorm looked around and shrugged. "Don't you remember 
where you tossed it?" 

	"Somewhere," Jun snapped in reply, and pushed away from 
Takenoko's side. Dropping to his hands and knees, he began to crawl 
along the forest floor, sweeping aside dead leaves and fallen pine 
needles as he searched. "It's got to be around here; we can't leave 
until we find it!" 

	Sailor Lightstorm sat up and watched the proceedings with 
interest as Jun scrabbled around on the ground like a cute little 
puppy looking for its ball. Kokuen and Shouen joined the boy in his 
search, as Shien and Yoen checked the makeshift bandages that covered 
each other's armour, tightening a few that had been loosened during 
the march and begun to leak black smoke. With a sigh, she rested her 
hands on her knees and bit her lower lip thoughtfully. Far be it from 
her to do more than the absolute minimum her duties required, but the 
little munchkin looked so worried... and he WAS pretty cute. Sighing 
again, the blonde woman stood up and began looking around. 

	Something gleamed softly in the scrub, and Lightstorm glanced 
over in its direction. Whatever it was, it was hidden pretty well in 
the snarl of brambles and brush that grew so prolifically between the 
trees of the forest. No way Jun threw his sword hard enough for it to 
land in there. Probably not what she was looking for, she decided, and 
turned away. 

	Except... why did she keep getting the nagging feeling that it 
WAS what she was looking for? Turning back, the young woman saw 
whatever was in there gleam again. It certainly did have a metallic 
sheen, she thought, and took a step closer. Her hand moved down 
through the thick underbrush, deftly avoiding the thorns and brambles 
as she closed her fingers around the object. It felt so weird, almost 
as if it wanted her to pick it up. Stepping back again, she drew her 
acquisition out of the cover and into the light. 

	Sunbeams shone coldly off of the smooth surface of the curved 
sword blade, and Lightstorm smiled. There it was; the same katana she 
had seen hanging on Naaza's hip about a dozen times before. With a 
cheerful nod, the Senshi turned and walked over to where Jun was still 
searching through the forest litter. 

	"Hey, Jun! This what you're looking for?" 

	The dark-haired young man glanced up and grinned, his eyes 
lighting up at the sight of the katana in her hands. "Hey! You found 
it! Way to go, Lightstorm; thanks!" He reached for the blade eagerly, 
and she quickly pulled it away, holding the sword behind her as she 
pushed on Jun's chest with her other hand. 

	"Now, what's the big hurry, Jun? I'd say a little finder's fee 
would be in order, after all the trouble we went through. Nothing big, 
maybe just a little show of your gratitude..."

	"I said thanks." Jun stared at her with uncomprehending eyes. 
"What more could you possibly want?"

	"How about a kiss?"

	"Ah, GEEZ! Couldn't I just give you money, or something?" 

	"Hey, I am NOT that kind of girl, Jun Yamano!" Lightstorm 
grinned mischievously, a twinkle in her eye. "No kiss, no sword." 

	"But my girlfriend-"

	"Isn't here, and the last I heard you were fighting with her, 
anyway. Do you want the sword, or what?"

	Jun scowled and fumed in silence for a minute or two. Sailor 
Lightstorm took the opportunity to pull off one glove and examine her 
nails. She really needed to get a manicure, one of these days... 

	"Okay," he said after another few minutes, and stepped forward,
grabbing the sword as he lightly pecked her on the cheek. "Thanks for 
the help, Lightstorm; you're a great girl."

	Lightstorm looked shocked for a moment, then shrugged 
philosophically. So it hadn't been exactly what she had in mind. She'd 
still take it. Besides, the jealous looks that Thunderstorm and 
Icestorm were giving her made up for any disappointment in the outcome.
Wait until she told them that she'd already gotten a better kiss 
from him a few days ago...

	"Funny," Jun mused as he held the katana before him and 
examined it critically. "It feels kinda... different, somehow. Heavier,
maybe. I mean, it LOOKS right, but, well, are you sure this is the 
right sword?"

	"Oh, come on, kid!" Takenoko called out impatiently. "Of 
course it's the right sword! How many swords do you THINK would be 
lying around on the ground waiting for you to pick them up? Just stick 
it back in your pants and let's go check out that weird snowstorm!"

**********

	Takenoko sneezed, and shuddered like a flag in a stiff breeze. 
In response to his violent motion, the small crust of snow which had 
been forming on his fur slacked off and fell to the ground to join its 
cousins. 

	"Well?" Jun asked, rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a 
vain attempt to keep his blood flowing in the freezing cold, his breath
steaming from his mouth and drifting away on the breeze. "Any ideas?" 

	"Not sure," Takenoko shouted back, raising his voice to be 
heard over the wind. "There were a bunch of ice and snow youma back in 
the day, but most of them got wiped out by Beryl. Not too many of the 
ones who survived made it out of the Pit. Maybe we should just go on!"

	"Aww," Icestorm pouted as she lifted a large boulder of snow 
and set it on top of the other two she had already stacked. "Do we 
have to? I was, like, just starting to like this joint!" With one 
finger, she stabbed two holes in the top snowball and drew a curved 
line beneath them, creating a happy face.

	"T-T-T-T-Twit," Thunderstorm spat out between her chattering 
teeth. Unlike her energetic partner, the tall brunette looked to be 
two stages away from full-blown hypothermia. Hugging herself and 
walking doubled over, she shivered and gasped for breath as she 
shifted uncomfortably from one bare foot to the other. Understandably, 
the knee-deep snow and sub-zero temperatures seemed to be disagreeing 
with her. 

	Marching past her, Shien stopped in mid-step and turned his 
helmet in the young woman's direction. "You are cold?" he asked, in 
his usual emotionless tone. 

	"Of c-c-course I'm c-c-cold!" Thunderstorm moaned, giving the 
violet youja a dirty look. "M-my feet are b-blocks of ice!" 

	Shien tilted his helmet to first one side, then the other. 
Shouldering his naginata, the youja grabbed Thunderstorm by the wrist 
and slung her onto his back, lifting her free of the snow. 

	"I have been told that youja armour is warm," he said casually.
"Tuck your feet under you and press them against my backplate."

	"I thought you wanted us dead," Thunderstorm said suspiciously,
doing as he had instructed. Be damned, she thought, youja actually were
pretty warm. It was better than before, that was for sure. Of course, 
if anyone said anything about it, she'd have to kill them.

	Shien looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes blank pools 
of white as they swirled in the shadow of his eyeslot. He looked mad, 
but then, the faceplate always kind of looked like it was frowning at 
her. "Yes," he agreed, with a slight nod, "dead. Not suffering."

	Yoen marched past the pair, his bisento resting easily in his 
hand as he used the butt of the weapon to test the snow ahead of him. 
The weather itself was no problem for his breed, but the snow might 
hide any number of traps and snares, natural or deliberate. Suddenly, 
he stiffened perceptibly. The bisento chopped through the air as it 
fell forward, slapping against his other hand as he spun it into a 
battle-ready position. He sensed Kokuen doing the same with his 
scythe, even as Shouen dropped to one knee and began to load his 
musket. Carefully, the silver youja began to edge backwards, covering 
his crimson companion as the other youja hurriedly rammed a ball down 
the musket barrel and applied powder. Kokuen was standing on the other 
side, facing outward and instinctively covering that approach. All of 
his troops could sense it; something was out there, lurking in the 
snow.

	Something that was angry. 

	Noticing the strange behaviour of the youja, Jun glanced back 
at them and scratched his head. Takenoko was right - half the time 
they didn't communicate, and the other half of the time they made no 
sense. The only one who seemed even close to normal was Kokuen. 

	"Hey!" he shouted, trying to get their attention and failing 
miserably. "What's up, you guys? You hear something? See something?" 

	"Something like-" Kokuen said, before a spout of snow burst 
from the ground. There was a loud clanging sound, like somebody 
hitting a bell with a hammer, and the black youja fell to the ground 
with a large dent in his chest. Shien and Thunderstorm fell next, as 
the purple youja's head suddenly snapped back and sent him crumpling 
on top of his passenger, who yelped as the weight of his armoured 
shell crushed her into the snow. Yoen swung his bisento in a glittering
arc, and Jun thought he saw something blur through the air as it 
ricocheted off of the swinging blade. Another piece of snow puffed 
upwards, to Yoen's left, and then another a few seconds later on his 
right. The youja captain shifted his stance, kicking up a cloud of 
the light, powdery snow as he stepped forward and swung his weapon 
in a horizontal slash, ducking low as he did so. Another blur, as 
his polearm quivered like a diving board, and Yoen suddenly flew 
backward several feet, ebony vapour pouring from the wound in his 
side as it opened further.

	Shouen finished loading his musket and lowered the rifle, 
cocking back the hammer with a reverberating click. Snow erupted 
to his left, then his right, then directly in front of him. Moving 
as if aiming at something nobody else could see, the youja jerked his 
musket upwards and fired, the roar of his weapon slicing through the 
air like a cannon as fire and smoke belched from the muzzle. 

	Icestorm yowled as the head of her snowman erupted in another 
of the now-characteristic plumes of snow. "HEY! I worked really hard 
on that, you big MEANIE!" Scowling prettily, she picked up a piece of 
the shattered snowman and threw it. 

	With a cry of surprise, a figure shimmered into view and 
stumbled onto its face, the remnants of her makeshift snowball still 
decorating the back of its head. 

	"Serves you right," Icestorm sniffed, and wiped her nose on 
the back of her glove. "You shouldn't go jumping on other people's 
stuff. I mean, that's just rude."

	"Hey, wait a minute," Takenoko mused, trudging towards the 
downed figure as the three downed youja clambered back to their feet. 
"I think I know this little punk."

	Rubbing the back of his head, the creature leapt up and landed 
in a crouch, hands raised. It was humanoid, in that it had two legs, 
two arms, one head, and so on. It was impossible to tell much else, 
as the being was dressed in baggy white pants and a white turtleneck 
sweater, with white gloves over its hands. There were what appeared 
to be ballet slippers on its feet, and the creature had donned a 
hooded navy jacket of what appeared to be silk. A belt of white cloth 
tied the jacket at his -for it appeared to be male- waist, and the 
hood cast whatever facial features he might have had into shadow. 

	Little, Jun thought, was obviously relative. The guy might have
been shorter than Takenoko, but he had a few inches on Icestorm, 
Lightstorm, and even Jun himself. In fact, now that he was holding 
still long enough to be seen, he looked to be about the same height as 
Thunderstorm, and that was a respectable height by human standards. 
He had the slim, wiry build of a gymnast or a dancer, which combined 
with his height to make him look rail-thin, almost more like a 
scarecrow than a living creature. 

	"Yeah," Takenoko sighed, "I know this runt." Turning to the 
youja, he waved for them to lower their weapons. "Don't bother killing 
him, guys; he ain't worth it."

	"Takenoko," the stranger said coldly, the first word he had 
spoken since appearing. 

	"Hey, that's more like it! All that silence was throwing me 
off for a bit." Smiling, the giant minotaur clapped his associate on 
the shoulder. "What happened to you, Jackie? You used to talk a mile a 
minute. There was a time when I would have said we couldn't shut you 
up if we melted your mouth. 'Course, there was also a time I wanted 
to try it..."

	'Jackie', Jun noticed, still hadn't relaxed his stance in the 
slightest. If anything, he had been growing more tense the longer 
Takenoko talked. Jun had the sudden mental image of a jack-in-the-box 
with just a few turns left on the handle. Any second now, he figured, 
that weasel was going to pop.

	"Hello," he said quickly, waving to the strange youma. "I'm 
Jun Yamano! I don't believe we've been introduced." Walking over, he 
extended his hand. Either this will work, the young man thought, or 
he'll tear off my arm and club me with it. One of these days, I'm 
going to teach myself to think and THEN act...

	After a brief pause, the youma reached out his hand and 
clasped Jun's, shaking it brusquely. "I am Toushousha Hidoi," he 
explained. "Most of the people I have fought beside call me Kousou..." 
His hood turned in Takenoko's direction and the youma's voice turned 
sour. "With," he amended, "one particularly annoying exception."

	"Well, it's good to meet you, Kousou," Jun said with a large 
grin. "If you think you can keep from nipping at my nose for a few 
more minutes, we might be able to settle our differences. My friends 
and I were just passing through when we noticed this interesting 
little snowstorm. I'm sure you can understand, we were pretty curious 
about this place, and then an old friend of Takenoko's turns out to be 
living here! I mean, what were the odds? Now, we didn't mean any harm, 
and I'm pretty sure there wasn't any done, so why not just forget the 
whole thing happened? I'm sure you two want to get re-acquainted with 
each other, so why don't we all just go somewhere a little more 
comfortable and talk?" 

	"No," Kousou said blankly. 

	"Oh, come on!" Takenoko said with false cheer. "You're trying 
to tell me that your house is a mess? Back in the Pit, you used to 
make your own brooms! We can sit down, talk about some things, maybe 
have a nice chat with Carlin - you are still playing butler for her, 
aren't you? I'm sure she'd be glad to see me again..." 

	"MISTRESS Carlin," Kousou interjected, "is not taking 
visitors at this time." With the almost furtive air of someone who was 
far too accustomed to being by themselves, he looked around and then 
motioned for the minotaur to follow him. "Come with me. I'll do what I 
can to help you, in her place."

**********

	The first thing that Kousou could do to help them, Jun had 
suggested, was offer them a bite to eat. Dried bug was okay for the 
first few days, but it got old pretty fast. As an end result, most of 
the group wound up crammed around a small wooden table with a rather 
acceptable feast spread before them. Better than dried bug, at least. 
Jun had commandeered the only chair, leaving the Storm Senshi to make 
do with whatever boxes, stools, or overturned flowerpots they could 
scavenge. Takenoko, for reasons of height as well as girth, had deemed 
it best if he sat on the floor. The youja, having no need to eat, 
merely stood nearby and kept a wary eye on their newest associate. 
Given the speed with which he'd managed to attack them before, they 
weren't taking any chances.

	Kousou, as it turned out when he finally got around to 
lowering his hood, was actually quite human-looking. In fact, Jun 
mused as he munched happily on a biscuit drizzled with some kind of 
honey, the wiry youma could have been a model back on Earth, if not 
for his coloration. His hair was short, slightly wavy, and as white 
as bone. So were his eyebrows, which made a stark contrast with the 
dark blue skin of his face. Still, a little makeup and some hair dye 
and he'd have no problem blending into the human population. Of course,
the silver facial tattoo on his right cheek would still be a little 
odd, but not too inhuman to draw attention to itself. 

	"I'm sorry about the lack of furniture," he was explaining 
at the moment, as he stirred a type of soup that Jun was unfamiliar 
with. Its main ingredient seemed to be some kind of turnip, or radish.
"There really isn't much need for it, around here. I'm usually on my 
feet most of the day, and I've converted a lot of the rooms of this 
place to make room for my experiments."

	"Still looking for a cure?" Takenoko mumbled through a mouthful
of sandwich. 

	"Maybe," Kousou admitted with a nervous tic of a smile. "Not 
having too much progress, but we've got nothing but time around here. 
Well, time and money. We're the richest farm in these parts."

	"Why?" Jun asked, taking a sip from the tumbler in front of 
him. "What's the reason?"

	"You're drinking it," Takenoko explained. "That juice is made 
from snowberries - they only grow in the cold. If you ferment them, 
you get a drink with a kick like you wouldn't believe, and no hangover 
in the morning, either. Of course, since they only grow in about 
eighty below zero temperatures, they're pretty rare. Most farmers 
could only harvest them one, maybe two months a year."

	"With our powers, we make it cold enough on our property for 
snowberries to thrive all year round," Kousou added, filling in for 
Takenoko as the minotaur paused to dig into the plate of biscuits that 
Jun had been perusing earlier. "As far as I know, we're the only farm 
in the whole kingdom that does it. So, we received a special provision 
from some guy with an eyepatch last week. We're the official suppliers 
of snowberry juice and wine for the royal castle itself. Half of what 
we're growing now will end up on the table of whatshername... Empress 
Kayura. She gets her favourite drink any time she wants it, and I get 
all the money I could ever need." 

	"Nice," Jun said approvingly, lifting his cup in salute. 

	"Yes, for all the good it's done me." Kousou gestured, and a 
slim blade leapt from the sleeve of his jacket to land in his hand. 
Grabbing what Jun had assumed was an orange, the youma began to peel 
it. Under the thick rind, the fruit was a vibrant shade of green, and 
seemed to have the consistency of a potato. The peel fell away in a 
single piece, and Kousou quickly diced the green bulb and dropped 
the small pieces into a nearby bowl. Turning to the burbling soup, he 
ladled out a steaming dollop over the chopped pieces of fruit. 

	"Say," Thunderstorm mused as the slender youja headed for the 
door with the bowl in hand, "you and me are pretty close to the same 
height, huh? Think you could spare an outfit? I ain't exactly dressed 
for polite company, y'know."

	"Sure," he replied, with a quick and humourless smile. "Help 
yourself. If you'll excuse me, I need to deliver this." Bobbing his 
head in a slight approximation of a bow, he left and closed the door 
behind him.

	"Okay." Jun set down his cup and looked around the table. "So 
who here thinks we should follow him?" 

	The vote was unanimous.


**********

	With a practised ease, Kousou nudged the door open with his 
toe and sidled his way into the room, steaming bowl perfectly balanced 
in the palms of his cupped hands. The light from the hallway spilled 
over his shoulders and caused the ice-covered floor to sparkle like a 
star-filled sky as he delicately glided towards his mistress. The 
entire room was turning into an ice cave, the walls and furniture 
coated in thick, glassy sheets of frozen material. It was one of many 
reasons that no light was allowed in her chambers - by this point, 
the ice was thick enough that its reflections could blind lesser 
creatures. 

	Kousou blinked his third set of eyelids self-consciously. His 
breed had long ago compensated for such snow-blindness, but the effect 
might have been painful to Mistress Carlin's own, less adaptive, eyes. 
Especially since she was incapable of opening or closing them. Moving 
her would solve nothing - whatever room she moved to would freeze over 
soon enough. He stepped over a large, shadowy mound of amorphous ice 
that memory told him used to be a small footstool. Casting his gaze to 
the ceiling, he saw the thick columns of icicles had stretched low 
enough that the larger ones were making him duck his head to get past 
them. 

	Finally, he reached his goal. There, sitting in her frozen 
throne, was Mistress Carlin. The delicate fingers of frost had begun 
to creep up over her draping sleeves, stiffening the velvet fabric and 
beginning a process that would eventually freeze them to the chair 
itself. Her robe caressed her curves, looking almost like a night-gown,
and her face, if he were to pull back her fur-trimmed hood far enough 
to see it, would no doubt be as composed and serene as if she were in 
fact merely slumbering. The truth was far more serious - no fog rose 
from her mouth or nose, her chest neither rose nor fell, and her skin, 
if he had dared to touch it, would have seemed as cold and lifeless as 
the icy seat that held her. 

	Yet she lived. He knew it. A simple glance at her necklace 
revealed that the large opal resting in the valley of her breasts 
sparkled with as much lustre as it ever had. Were she to die, that 
same stone would be as dull and worthless as a piece of dried clay. 

	Kneeling next to her, he gently shifted the hot bowl of soup 
he carried to balance on a single hand as he used the other to reach 
into the depths of her hood and grip her face, gently pushing against 
her cheekbones and forcing her head to tilt back. Moving his fingers 
slightly, he proceeded to pull down on her jaw and open her mouth. 
It was entirely by touch that he rested the edge of the bowl against 
her lips and tilted it, pouring a small measure of the soup down her 
throat and taking infinite care not to spill a drop on her robe. His 
hand moved in a slow rocking motion, allowing the hot broth to trickle 
past his mistress' lips as his other hand carefully prevented any 
fluid from leaking out of the corner of her mouth. Soon enough the 
bowl was empty, and he sighed in a mixture of disappointment and 
relief. Disappointment, as every time he saw her, that she had not 
somehow come back to life, and relief that she was at least still 
swallowing. Gem aside, is served as a panacea to the eerie feeling that
he was tending to a corpse. 

	Kousou looked downward and saw a shadow move in the single beam
of light cast by the doorway. But he was the only thing in the entire 
room that was able to move, and it hadn't been him. That had been a 
shadow that didn't belong. Scowling, the tall youma stiffened his 
fingers and shook his arm in such a way that the dagger up his sleeve 
fell down into his palm. Not that he didn't know who it had to be, but 
old instincts died hard and he saw no reason to let them. 

	"Nice place," Takenoko snorted. "Reminds me of the one you had 
back in the Pit."

	"Get out!" Kousou replied, his voice a threatening snarl. "My 
mistress doesn't wish to be seen like this!" 

	"Man," Jun commented as he stepped past the doorway and looked 
into the room, "is it ever cold in HERE! I thought it was bad outside, 
but this is definitely worse." Noticing the robed figure seated next 
to Kousou, the small human bowed respectfully. "Sorry to intrude," he 
said in an amiable manner, "but we wanted to let you know that your 
friend here has been very hospitable, and you're very... dead. Ooh. 
I think you're right, Takenoko: I could have done without knowing 
about this."

	"She is not dead!" Kousou snapped. 

	"It's more like a coma," Takenoko expounded. "Although I had 
kinda hoped the lass would have snapped out of it a little by now." 
Frost crunching under his hooves, the giant minotaur tromped over to 
where Carlin sat and squinted into the shadowy depths of her 
ermine-trimmed hood. "Doesn't move, or talk, or blink, or breathe, or 
speak, or anything. Hell, nobody's even sure she knows what's going on 
around her."

	"And how is that different from dead?" Jun asked curiously.

	"I can't cure death," Kousou responded. 

	"You haven't cured this yet, either," Takenoko noted with a 
clinical snort. "Not that you haven't tried your navy blue ass off for 
about sixty years. I'll give you credit where it's due, Jackie-boy; at
least you're a DETERMINED crackpot. You know what's expected of you. 
That's an important thing, in crackpots. Otherwise you all just run 
around pulling cursed swords out of walls, and such."

	"Hey!" Jun yelled. "I already said I was sorry about that, 
okay? It was an honest mistake! Besides, that sword's long gone, now!"

	"I am not a crackpot!" Kousou yelled, at almost the same time 
as Jun. Unlike Jun, the slim youma's body had tensed suddenly, and 
his face was contorted with rage. "I know a cure! I can save her!" 

	"Really? Cool!" With a giggle, Icestorm slid past the trio on 
one foot, her other leg stuck out behind her at a right angle. Humming 
a happy tune, the girl spun like a top and proceeded to slide past 
them yet again, going in the opposite direction. "So, uh, why haven't 
you, like, done it yet?"  

	"Okay," Thunderstorm said quietly, "so she knows how to figure 
skate. That's okay, I can live with that, there's nothing wrong with 
that. But would it kill her to at least wear SKATES when she does it?"

	Lightstorm, meanwhile, was all but crawling in Carlin's lap 
as she stared under the cover of the other woman's hood. "Hey," she 
said appreciatively, "this kid's kinda pretty. I mean, not as pretty 
as ME, of course, but it's not exactly fair to make that comparison. 
I mean, I'm ME, and she's, just, well, not bad. Above average - I'd 
say a seven, at least. Still, a bit of lipstick, touch of blush, maybe 
some eyeliner over here... I could make her an eight."

	"Nobody's making Mistress Carlin ANYTHING!" Kousou shouted. 
"There's nothing wrong with the way she looks! I just need to get the 
Orb of Cailleach, and she'll be FINE!" 

	"The what of I-beg-your-pardon?" Jun asked with a confused 
look on his face.

	"The Orb of Cailleach."

	"Sorry," Jun admitted with a blank look. "Still not ringing 
any bells."

	"It is a mystic gem. Supposedly, it formed from the frozen 
tear of the Cailleach herself. It's supposed to grant its bearer power 
over many things, including weather, wisdom... and diseases."

	"Oh, THAT Orb! Well, you could have just said so." Jun rested 
one hand on the pommel of his katana, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I 
know all about that thing. The good old Orb of... uh... Coy-luck?"

	"Cailleach."

	"Right! Boy, if I had a dime for every time I'd heard about 
that old thing, let me tell you..." The dark-haired boy rubbed his 
nose with his thumb and nodded knowingly. "So you need to find this 
Orb of- this thing, and use it to cure your friend, huh?" 

	"I know its location," Kousou corrected the young man. "I 
simply cannot obtain it." 

	"Huh?" Lightstorm looked over with interest. "Why not?" 

	"Because there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," Jun 
replied, answering for Kousou. "Knowing where it is and actually taking
it are two different things. Believe me, I know. You may think that 
you've got a handle on stuff, but there's just no telling when some 
demon ninja is going to show up and try to spoil it for you. Then the 
next thing you know, there's bodies on the floor. Happens every time." 

	"Really?" Icestorm asked as she gracefully leapt over a frozen 
footstool and continued her circuit of the room. 

	"Well," Jun corrected himself, "it's happened every time I'VE 
gone hunting for a mystic gem, at least. I assume the whole deal's 
pretty much par for the course." 

	"I know that if I could just recover that gem, I would finally 
be able to cure Mistress Carlin," Kousou said dejectedly, "but it's 
too much for just one youma to handle. And I couldn't just leave her 
here by herself for too long..."

	"Okay, already!" Jun said, laughing as he clapped the taller 
youma on the shoulder. "You can stop twisting my arm, pal; I'll be 
more than happy to lend you a hand with this whole orb thing!"

	"But, I couldn't ask such a-"

	"Ask?" Jun guffawed even louder, throwing his head back as he 
laughed heartily. "People don't have to ASK me for help! I just GIVE 
it to them!" 

	"Yeah!" Icestorm chirped happily. "We GIVE it to them!" 

	"What a great idea!" Lightstorm gushed, racing across the room
and latching onto Jun's arm. "Jun and I will stay here and keep an eye 
on the living popsicle, and then YOU can all go out looking for that 
orb thingy! It's perfect!" 

	"Oh," Takenoko said, quickly stepping in as he noticed the 
desperate panic building in Jun's eyes, "we wouldn't dream of keeping 
you and your sisters apart, now, would we? I know how lonely you all 
get when you're away from each other. I'll stay and look after old 
Carlin, here. We go way back." 

	"Quick question," Thunderstorm said, lifting her hand for 
attention. "Can I please get some clothes on before we head back out 
there? Because I don't want to be using the purple people eater for a 
foot warmer if there's another option."

	"As I said," Kousou reminded her, "you're more than welcome to 
help yourself to my own wardrobe. Admittedly, it's not exactly high 
fashion, but I'm sure you'll find a few things. My chambers are just 
down the hall from here; I like to stay close to Mistress Carlin in 
case something should happen during the night."

	"Thanks!" Thunderstorm said with a wink as she pointed her 
index finger at the youma and made a clicking sound with her mouth. 
"You know, of all the creatures I've met, I think I hate you less than 
most." With that stunning endorsement, the brunette turned and exited 
through the door.

	"We'd better go with her," Lightstorm muttered to Icestorm from
behind a glove. "There's no telling what that girl will pick if we 
leave her to herself!"

	"Like, awesome point, sis!" Icestorm agreed, her face 
brightening as an idea struck. "Hey, ya think she'd look good with 
pigtails?" 

	"Well," the blonde Senshi said with a knowing smile as she 
and her sister left in search of their partner, "there's really only 
one way we'll ever find out, now, isn't there?" 

	"Jun," Takenoko said in a low rumble, "why don't you go pack up
some supplies for your little trip? Jackie and me need to have us a 
little chat, here."

	"Huh? Oh, sure thing, Takenoko!" Jun threw a jaunty salute and 
scrambled out of the room as quickly as he could, leaving the two 
youma alone with the still form of Carlin. 

	"Okay," Takenoko said softly. "So how about you tell me the 
whole story now, Jackie? Why are you lying to my friends?"

	"No lie," Kousou said quickly, as Takenoko took a menacing 
step closer. "They offered their help freely, and I'm glad for it. I 
need them to-"

	"Bullshit," Takenoko spat, before adding "if you'll pardon the 
expression. First of all, I know all about the goddamn Orb of 
Cailleach, remember? It used to be right on Carlin's index finger. So 
if that was all you needed, why wait this long? And why don't she 
have it no more?"

	"I never used it because I didn't know I could!" Kousou 
explained, backing slowly away as the giant black minotaur advanced 
like a stormfront. "It wasn't until a few weeks before we broke out of 
the Pit that I found the scroll that told me about it! It's one of the 
ingredients I need to cure her, Takenoko. I gathered all of the others,
but by then the Orb was gone!" 

	"What, it walked away? You think I got solid muscle between 
these horns? You think just because my eyes are bad I won't see through
your story?" Takenoko snorted a small cloud of steam, his red eyes 
sparking angrily as he stepped forward yet again. 

	"I'm telling you the truth! It was taken!" 

	"Who? Who took it? Who could so bad that you'd be afraid of 
them? You move faster than a bad rumour, Jackie-boy, and the last time 
I checked, you weren't afraid of anybody. So who?"

	Kousou smiled nervously. "Would you believe Daija?" 

	"Holy flaming shit. Are you crazy? You're going to let those 
kids go after Daija? She'll have them for breakfast!" 

	"She'll have ME for breakfast, or at least she wants to. You 
know she's always hated Mistress Carlin, and she'll do anything to keep
me from getting the cure! She stole the orb off of Mistress Carlin's 
finger when I was fighting in the Pit, once. That's why I'm afraid to 
leave Mistress Carlin here unguarded! She'd be totally helpless if 
Daija slithered in here and I was gone. I attacked the way I did 
earlier because I thought you might be her, or working for her."

	"Me? For her?" Takenoko harumphed. "Not likely. The woman's a 
total loon." 

	"She's nesting a few miles from here. I set up our farm nearby 
because I thought it would let me keep an eye on her; in case she might
leave the Orb behind when she went out, or something." Kousou sighed, 
looking up at Takenoko as the minotaur loomed over him. "I called for 
Regan and Corax to come and help me, but they haven't shown up yet. 
Dakatsu should be on his way, too - you know he always gets involved 
if Daija's around."

	"Makes sense," Takenoko admitted. "After all, she is his 
sister. Can't blame the man if he takes it personally when she tries 
to murder his friends." 

	"Yes, but they aren't here." Kousou shrugged. "They should have
arrived days ago, and they never showed up. These friends of yours 
dropping into my lap and offering to help are about the only thing to 
go right for me all week. Can you blame me for accepting their aid?" 

	"You don't know what you're getting into, Jackie. That Jun 
kid - he's got this way of getting his nose in stuff. Don't get me 
wrong; he's a great kid, he means well, it's just... Things got this 
habit of going straight to hell around him. He's, like, a karmic 
hurricane, or something."

	"All the human needs to do is keep his head down, Takenoko, 
as I intend to do myself. Daija may be dangerous, but I doubt even 
she would have much of a chance against those three -and I use the 
term figuratively- girls." Kousou raised his hands placatingly and 
smiled slightly. "You do realise what kind of creatures you're actually
travelling with, don't you?"

	"Yeah," the minotaur grumbled, rubbing the back of his thick 
neck. "I kinda figured it out a day or two ago. One of 'em accidentally
changed into her true form. Took me a while to realise what I'd been 
looking at, though." The heavy head suddenly snapped up, beady eyes 
narrowing in suspicion. "Wait a minute... How in the hells did YOU 
figure out what they are?" 

	"The blue-haired one," Kousou answered. "I'm a snow demon, 
Takenoko, remember? Don't you think a bobcat like me can recognise a 
tiger like her when I see one? It's like looking eight steps up the 
food chain. Once I realised what she was, I figured the other two had 
to be the same. I just don't understand what they're doing slumming 
around with lower life forms - no offence."

	"None taken. I thought they might be stuck the way they are, 
but that brunette was able to switch her bodies around like she was 
changing socks. At least, when she got mad enough, she could. And why 
would she change back, if she'd gone back to normal?"

	The tall blue youma shrugged. "Beats me, but if they're willing
to take a few rounds out of Daija for me, I want to let them. You told 
anybody else what you know?" 

	"What, that the Storm Senshi are a bunch of friggin' 
elementals? Who would I tell? I'm pretty sure THEY already know. None 
of the tin soldiers would believe me, and the kid wouldn't understand. 
He's a human. Probably doesn't know an elemental from a hole in the 
ground."

	"Do you want me to accept their help, Takenoko? Because if 
you say so, I'll tell your friends 'thanks but no thanks'. I can find 
another way to help Mistress Carlin. We've waited sixty years; we can 
wait sixty more if that's how long it takes to get the Orb from Daija."

	"No," Takenoko groaned, resting one hand against an ice-coated 
dresser and using the other to vigorously rub the back of his head. 
"It's too late. That Jun kid was serious; if he knows you need help, 
he's giving it to you. Besides, I don't like seein' the lass frozen 
stiff any more than you do. Take them, and get the damned cure. But 
there's going to be a few conditions."

	"Conditions?" Kousou blinked. "What do you mean?"

	"You go and get that magic rock of yours, Jackie. You shine it 
up real pretty, and you heal Miss Carlin. Then we're going to sit down 
with BOTH of you and talk about helping us the way we helped you. And 
you're gonna say yes whether you think it's a good idea or not. Then 
we're all gonna sit around until those other boys you called show up. 
And THEY'RE gonna join us, too, because you're going to help me 
convince them. And there's one other thing, Jackie. I am dead serious 
about this one."

	"What?" 

	Takenoko placed his hands on either side of the snow demon's 
head, leaning forward until his muzzle was pressed into the smaller 
youma's clavicle and their eyes were perfectly level. "You're going 
out there with three girls and one kid," he said quietly. "Now, those 
tin men can look after themselves, so don't worry about them. But I'm 
going to be here waiting for you, Jackie-boy. And at the end of the 
day, if you don't have three girls and one kid with you, then gem or 
no damned gem, you better do yourself a favour and NOT COME BACK." The 
minotaur's eyes flared with a crimson glow, and a thick cloud of steam 
rose from his nostrils to swirl about both of their heads. "Am I," he 
snarled, showing off his fangs, "making myself perfectly clear?"

	"Perfectly," Kousou replied, seeming oddly unruffled. 

	"Good," Takenoko replied with a tooth-filled smile. "It's 
always nice when two old friends can see eye-to-eye on something like 
this, isn't it? Now you get out there and save this little lady."

	With a grateful nod, the snow demon ducked under the minotaur's
arm and headed towards the door, grateful for the respite. Halfway 
across the room, he slid to a stop and looked over his shoulder. 
Takenoko leaned against the wall, his mass allowing him to loom over 
most of the furniture without even having to stand upright. 

	"I'll be waiting," he said darkly. "And I'll be counting, too, 
Jackie-boy. Three girls. One kid. Or no you."

	"I understand," Kousou responded, as he exited, "but Daija 
might have different ideas."

**********

To Be Continued...





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