Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Hearts of Ice ❯ Dragon ( Chapter 23 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and
possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

------------------------------------------------
He arts of Ice
Part 23: Dragon
by Krista Perry
------------------------------------------------


Ak ane stood before the cave of the Ancient One, carefully
cradling Ranma's limp form to her chest. As she stared into the
darkness of the gaping hole, she was acutely aware of the feel of
Ranma's body in her arms. If she didn't think about it, she
could almost pretend he was only asleep... or even unconscious.

But his clothes were sticky with drying blood. His skin was
the color of cold ash.

And his ghost was standing next to her.

She couldn't think about it. She couldn't think about it,
because if she did, she would scream or cry or laugh or sob and
never stop. So she didn't think. She just had to act, and get
the problem solved. She had to fix this. She had to find a way
to repair this... problem... that threatened to separate her from
Ranma forever, just when she had finally found him again.

He wasn't looking at her. He hadn't looked directly at her,
ever since she had picked up his body from off the stony,
bloodstained ground. And he didn't look at her as he stepped
forward -- seemingly unaware of how his feet never quite managed
to touch the ground -- and cleared his throat to address the
great Chinese dragon, who was their last hope.

"Hey, Ancient One!" Ranma yelled. "Get your scaly dragon
butt out here, I wanna talk to you!"

Akane gasped, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes.
"Ranma!" she squeaked in panic. "What do you think you're
doing?!" She glanced anxiously into the unyielding darkness of
the cave, half expecting a huge dragon's head to emerge, mouth
open to swallow them whole... but nothing happened. She lowered
her voice to an intense whisper. "Are you trying to make him
angry?"

"Of course not," Ranma replied irritably, still not looking
at her. "I'm just trying to get his attention, that's all."

Akane groaned. "Idiot, that's not the way to convince him
to help us!"

"Well, what do *you* think we should do?" he snapped,
finally turning to face her. His eyes strayed to the body she
carried, and she could see his face cloud with a dark, painful
emotion that made her own heart ache in response.

Ranma suppressed a wince as he saw the anguish in Akane's
expression. He was trying so hard to pretend that it didn't
bother him, seeing her hold his dead body in her arms. But...
when he did... it brought the reality of his situation into
painful focus. As each moment passed, each second spent
surrounded by a terrifying feeling of nothingness, of absence
that had invaded nearly all of his senses... he found he was
starting to feel less like a person, and more like a mere
apparition. A lost spirit, increasingly disconnected from the
physical world... from everything that he longed for.

"Look, Akane," he said, lowering his eyes again. "This so-
called all-powerful dragon didn't do a thing to help me when I
was bleeding to death right outside his cave. It *had* to know I
was there, since I'm the only one it even allowed on this stupid
mountain. It obviously doesn't give a damn about mere humans."
His voice was full of bitterness. "And you think I'm gonna be
polite to him now?"

Akane didn't answer him for a long moment. Finally, he
looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her head was bowed,
and he couldn't tell if her eyes were closed, or if she was
simply looking down at his dead face...

"If it means getting you back," she whispered at last, "I
would grovel like a worm."

And Ranma immediately felt like the worst kind of worm
himself. "Aw man, Akane..." he said, his tone softening. "I'm
not saying I wouldn't do that too. Hell, if I thought groveling
before this dragon would get us what we want, I'd do it in a
second." He shook his head. "But think about it. This dragon
only grants requests to the *strong.* It only respects people
who can survive all those demons down there, and still make it up
here alive." Ranma clenched his fists and looked at the ground
so that Akane wouldn't see the helpless, infuriated look on his
face. "Well, I didn't make it. But I'm sure as hell gonna make
sure that this dragon knows just who he's dealing with anyway."

He looked up at her, expecting her to be angry; expecting
her to yell at him for being a macho idiot...

But she didn't. In fact, he thought he saw her almost
smile, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"You... have a point," she said slowly, remembering a few
entities she had run into in the Kami Plane, who had similar
attitudes. "So... do you have a plan then?"

Ranma blinked. A plan? "Uh, well," he said, hesitantly.
"The original plan was to just come and fight him until he agreed
to break the blood spell, since I don't got any magic binding
scroll like Shampoo had... but..." He looked down at himself.
"I'm kinda at a disadvantage at the moment."

Akane snorted. "Only you would call death a
'disadvantage,'" she said, in a way that communicated that she
didn't really mind thinking of it that way either.

Ranma grinned. "Yeah. This is just a temporary setback,
right?"

Akane's small smile grew, and she nodded. "Right."

"Damn right!" Ranma raised his fist enthusiastically.
"Nobody defeats Ranma Saotome for long. Not even death! I ain't
gonna give up until the Ancient One agrees to help us. Even if
all I can do right now is... is *haunt* him."

Akane giggled.

And Ranma suddenly felt great. Here was Akane, obviously
upset and disturbed by the events of the past few minutes, and if
that weren't bad enough, she was carrying his corpse... and with
all that, he had still been able to make her smile. To make her
laugh.

It was a new power, a kind he had never really exercised
before. Before the blood spell, he had been too afraid of his own
reaction to her smiles to actively seek them out. But now...

"Besides, if it comes down to it," Ranma continued, trying
not to get flustered by the realization of how cute she looked at
that moment, "I... I think you could take him on. I mean, you
helped me fight that eight-headed dragon at Ryuganzawa, and that
was back when you were a clu... I mean, back before you became
this, uh, kick-ass demon hunter."

Akane snorted. "Nice save," she said, her smile turning
wry. "But thanks."

"Ah-heh..." Ranma's hand slipped behind his head, even as
he mentally kicked himself. *Idiot, don't blow it now by
falling back into old habits!*

"Okay, then," Akane said, nodding firmly. "We'll do it your
way. If the Ancient One wants strength... We'll show him what
it means to cross Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo."

Ranma grinned. "All right! Now you're talkin'!" He turned
back to the cave entrance. "You hear that, dragon?" he yelled.
"We ain't taking no for an answer! So come on out and face us!"

They were answered with an all-pervasive silence from the
darkness.

In fact, as they stood there, they slowly realized that,
through their whole conversation, there hadn't been the slightest
flicker of response from anything inside the cave at all.

"Ancient One!" Ranma could hear his voice echoing deep
inside the cave. "Hey, c'mon! I don't got all day!"

*Got all day...* the cave echoed.

Ranma and Akane looked at each other, both at a loss.

"Um..." Akane cleared her throat after a long moment.
"Maybe he's not home," she suggested.

Ranma immediately spluttered in exasperation. "Not home?
Not *home*? He's a dragon! Where's he gonna go, grocery
shopping?"

"I don't know," Akane replied tersely, "but he's not
answering, obviously, and I'm not sensing anything either. So
either he's gone, or he's so deep in the cave that he can't hear
us."

Ranma sighed. "Great. Just great. What do we do now?"

"Well, why don't we just go in and look for him?"

"Akane..." Ranma sighed again. "Look, that may seem like a
great solution to you, since you've apparently developed this
hyperactive battle sense that will keep you from running into bad
guys and walls and other stuff in the dark, but only two of my
six senses seem to be working at the moment," he said, pointing
to an ear and an eye, "and if we go in there, I'll be down to
one."

"Oh." Akane's mouth puckered in a small frown as she looked
at him, her eyes glimmering with distress. "I'm sorry, I keep
forgetting that you can't... I mean..."

"Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter anyway," Ranma said,
looking into the impenetrable shadows inside the cave. Being
blind wasn't so bad when you could at least sense your
surroundings. But this... "We don't got a choice. I guess what
we could do is, you could talk, and I'll just try to follow your
voice and do my best not to... to float through a wall or
something."

"Well, actually..." Akane's battle aura flared about her,
bathing everything within a fifteen foot radius in a flickering
blue light. She looked at him, enjoying the brief flash of
astonishment on his face. "I've had a bit of experience in
dealing with, um, pitch-black caves," she said.

Ranma stared, then raised an eyebrow. "Okay, that's...
cool." Akane's amazing control over her ki was going to take
some getting used to. But he certainly wasn't going to complain
-- at least, not right now. He felt embarrassed at how relieved
he was that he didn't have to go into the dark, unable to sense
anything around him...

...because, where before he had at least taken comfort in
the seeming-solidity of his own ghostly form, that comfort was
now lost in the terrifying sensation of continually bleeding from
the long, thin puncture wound in his abdomen. On top of that, no
matter what he did, he couldn't seem to wipe his bloody hands
clean...

And... there was a small seed of growing panic deep inside
his chest -- a desperation that craved to touch something solid;
that hungered to feel even something as insignificant as air
against his arms and face...

Or... better yet... something like the flicker of warmth
he'd felt when Akane had touched him, or when he had brushed his
intangible fingers against her face, and she had shivered...
Even that small, barely-felt whisper of life had been so
wonderful in comparison to the nothingness...

Delicious, almost...

Ranma swallowed, startled at the direction his train of
thought had turned...

...as he suddenly remembered hanging helplessly in the
embrace of a kuei. A kuei, who took pleasure in capturing
humans; in plunging its ghostly hands into living bodies, holding
its victims in a trance so that it could *feel* something beyond
itself...

Oh no.

"Ranma,"Akane said, her voice full of concern. "What's
wrong? Are you okay?"

He was a kuei. He was a kuei, and he had *touched* Akane...
touched her with tainted, cursed hands, just so that he could
feel... And Ranma blinked, realizing belatedly that his
horrified understanding must be plain on his face.

"Nothing," he said quickly, turning away so that she could
no longer see his expression. "I'm fine. Come on, let's go."

"But--"

"I said I'm fine, okay?!" he snapped. And immediately
regretted it. Even if he couldn't see her face, he could tell
from the abrupt silence that Akane was hurt.. "Oh man... I'm
sorry," he said miserably, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't
mean to yell."

"I'm just worried about you!" she said. Her voice was
tearful.

"I know," he said softly. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm
just..." He looked down at his bloody hands. "Let's just go
find this dragon, okay?"

Akane stared at Ranma's back, his stooped shoulders... at
the blood that continued to seep from his ghostly wound... and
realized with a start that Ranma, in spite of all his usual
bravado... was scared.

"Okay," she whispered.

And she stepped forward into the cave, her battle aura
penetrating the thick darkness, pushing it back. Ranma followed
her silently.

~*~

Fear was a strange thing, Nabiki realized, as she followed
Kuno closely through a night-shrouded copse of trees, keeping her
eyes fixed on his shadowed form ahead of her. She'd never
realized before just how many different ways there were to feel
afraid. There was the blinding white, almost detached terror of
seeing the thread of your own mortality slide along the razor
edge of death.

*Yeah. Been there, done that.*

And then there was the fear she was feeling now - not the
raw terror of before, but more of... a thick dread... a kind of
breathlessness, as if her lungs were full of lead; a tightness
through her shoulder blades, like taut piano wire. As if a
threat was still there in the writhing darkness of the living
forest around them, but lurking just... out of sight...

...or waiting for them at the end of the trail...

*Please, Ranma. Hurry and come back and defeat Cologne
*before* we reach the campsite...*

It was a selfish thought, she knew. Cologne had something
terrible planned for Ranma; something insidious. And the old
ghoul had seemed pretty damn confident that her final card in
this game of desperation would be powerful enough to make Ranma
abandon Akane and the rest of them, and willingly spend the rest
of his life as a deferring, subservient husband in a hard-nosed
matriarchal society. So whatever it was that she had planned had
to be bad. Very bad.

But even so, Ranma was still their best chance of winning
this conflict. Ukyo, Ryoga, Shampoo and Mousse had been
defeated, and she didn't have any further delusions that she and
Kuno might be able to stand up to the ancient Amazon alone, so
what other hope did they have?

What if Ranma didn't make it back in time? What if he was
so busy having his glorious reunion with Akane that he didn't
return until it was too late? What if she and Kuno inadvertently
beat him to the clearing, and walked right back into Cologne's
waiting hands?

Then again, maybe that wouldn't be a problem, if they kept
up at their current pace...

Nabiki sighed, trying to push all the useless thoughts of
what-if out of her mind, focusing instead on the more immediate
task of creeping carefully through the thick foliage. It
couldn't have been more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes since
they left the clearing, but it seemed like forever. The going
was almost infinitely slow, and getting slower by the minute as
the trees seemed to close in on them. Kuno's makeshift trail,
created by their initial flight from Cologne, was becoming
virtually nonexistent. Nabiki held her arms up protectively
around her face and eyes because of the threat of unseen
branches. Kuno was taking similar precautions, she noticed, and
yet he refrained from clearing the way with his bokken for fear
of losing the evidence of the path he'd created in daylight.
Still, she took comfort in the fact that at least he seemed to
know where he was going.

"Watch your step," he said softly. "The terrain is very
uneven through here."

"Thanks." She ducked under a low-hanging branch that Kuno
held out of her way, and felt a rush of gratitude for the small
kindness. Some lingering tattered shred of stubborn pride
instinctively bristled within her, but she immediately squashed
the impulse. To slip back into ice-queen mode now would be
detrimental to her present purpose -- namely, getting out of this
predicament alive. Kuno was in full-blown protective guardian
mode, and she knew it would be the height of foolishness to
undermine him when this was exactly what she needed if they were
going to survive the night.

It still amazed her how he had managed to shed his insipid
Love-Struck Warrior Poet persona in favor of his new-and-improved
Humbled Fallen Samurai. But hey, if putting on that mask allowed
him to wear a courageous facade in the face of humiliation... if
it gave him the ability to protect her and make her feel even the
slightest bit safer than before... if, by some chance, it
actually *changed* him... so much the better.

*Hey Kuno, do you have an extra mask I could borrow? I have
to admit, yours actually seems pretty cool right now. Oh, and
while you're looking through your Bag o' Personalities, could you
check and see if you have anything that could make me a fighter
strong enough to kick Cologne's butt, rather than some pathetic
liability to this whole stupid expedition?*

Nabiki clenched her jaw. True, she wasn't too thrilled
about having to be completely dependent on Kuno for protection,
but at least she could live with it. Living *was* the idea,
after all. Getting back home in one piece without any serious
maiming would be a pleasant bonus...

What she *really* hated was this place. This primeval
forest, four days journey away from the nearest primitive human
dwelling.

She had never really been too keen on wilderness, even when
she was much younger and her family would go on the occasional
vacation. Like the one to Ryuganzawa, for instance. And yet,
even with their misadventure of losing Akane for a short time,
the outing hadn't been *too* bad because no matter where they
went, the closest civilization, a hot furo and a soft bed were
only a few hours away at most, even on foot. Oh sure, now she
knew that Ryuganzawa was full of a bunch of weird overgrown
animals... not to mention a big eight-headed serpent that
apparently had some weird fetish for women and sake. But *she'd*
never seen those creatures... or felt their presence... and
that's what mattered. Heck, other than that, the place had
seemed remarkably normal. Lots of standard trees and bushes.
Bugs. Squirrels. Hot springs. The inn they'd stayed at even
had television.

But this place...

This deep, isolated forest that guarded the steep, jutting
peak of a lonely forbidden mountain... was *old.* A landscape
straight out of her worst nightmare. The twisted, towering
trees, the tangled vines, the thick, spongy carpet of leaves and
pine needles, the moist, musty air that she could feel under her
skin... All these things held secrets that a person who had
spent most of their life sleeping under the neon-polluted night
sky of Tokyo would never dare guess.

We are far older than you, the forest sang softly, and she
heard the song clearly in the faint, echoing call of birds; the
rustling, grunting and hissing of wild animals. The trees moved
and swayed to the voiceless music of the cool night wind. We are
older than you, they sang, and we are home to creatures whose
natures you could not possibly imagine...

Kuno could hear it as well, apparently. She could tell by
the way he kept pausing, tilting his head slightly, then moving
forward again with a caution that belied the boldness of his
bearing.

Shampoo had said that the woods were safe; that the only
real danger lay on the demon-infested mountain.

But Shampoo had been wrong about a lot of things lately.

*I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it...*

She took another careful step... and froze, startled, as all
sounds around her abruptly ceased. The thrumming music of the
living forest silenced, the cool breeze died into nothing, and,
for a brief, frightened moment she thought she'd gone deaf, but
for the throbbing of her heartbeat in her ears. She stumbled,
nearly falling into Kuno, but he turned and caught her arm,
steadying her.

"Ah," Kuno gasped softly; and yet his voice carried loudly
in the sudden absence of other sounds. "It seems we are near the
Mountain of the Ancient One."

"Apparently," she agreed wryly, swallowing against the
thickness in her throat. She had experienced the same phenomenon
earlier that day where, in just a few steps, they had walked out
of a forest rustling with the constant murmur of life, and into a
forest where even the wind was still... except when it whispered
with a mocking voice as cold as death.

Entering the noiseless shroud that surrounded the Mountain
of the Ancient One had been unnerving the first time, in broad
daylight. Now, in the pressing darkness of night, knowing what
she knew...

"Come on." Nabiki clenched her teeth against the sudden
urge to chatter. "Let's get going. Ranma's probably already
taken care of everything, and they're probably looking for us."

Kuno nodded, released her arm, then stood for a moment,
looking searchingly into the thick tangle of forest before them.

"What are you waiting for?" Nabiki wrapped her arms tightly
around her chest and glanced around with growing nervousness. "I
don't know about you, but I want to get out of here as soon as
possible."

"The trail is gone."

Nabiki blinked. "What?"

Kuno turned to look at her, and even in the darkness, she
could see the perplexed look that creased his shadowed features.
"The trail... the path to the camp site that I created as I...
fled..." He reached out to carefully plunge one hand into the
unyielding tangle of shrubbery and vines in their path. "It has
disappeared. There are no more broken or severed branches,
nothing... It seems to have been overgrown, or... changed,
or..."

Funny, the different kinds of fear a person could feel,
Nabiki mused, as a completely new sick sensation suddenly filled
her gut. She should have known something like this would happen.
The forest within the Ancient One's boundary of silence seemed to
have erased their path.

"So," she said, and she was surprised at the calmness of her
own voice. "What you're saying is that we're lost. Well, can't
you just make another path going straight ahead? Won't that lead
us back to the camp site?"

Kuno cleared his throat uneasily. "I'm afraid," he said
quietly, "that, in my haste to save our lives, my escape was not
very... linear."

Nabiki stifled the urge to groan.

"However," he continued, turning to push at the tangled
barrier of foliage with the flat of his bokken, "I believe that
if we continue to follow the uphill grade, we shall eventually
emerge from this forest at the base of the mountain. We can then
follow the circumference of the mystical unseen barrier until we
discover our place of camp." He tilted his head at her in a
deferring gesture that surprised her. "Does this strike you as a
reasonable course of action?"

"Uh... sure," she replied slowly. It certainly sounded
better than her first rather dangerous inclination to try
climbing one of the twisted trees in the dark to see if they
could get their bearings.

She eyed Kuno speculatively. First, being able to follow
little more than a deer trail in near pitch black, and now this.
Kuno was turning out to be even more useful than she first
thought. Certainly more useful than *she* was feeling at the
moment, which is why she found it so odd that he would look for
her approval when he was clearly the one with the understanding
to deal with their current situation. "So, you learn all this
forestry stuff when you were a little Samurai Scout?" she asked
dryly.

"Yes."

Nabiki blinked as she caught the underlying smile in his
voice. Then her mouth quirked up at the corner in response.

She still wasn't sure what to make of this new side of Kuno.
He was much more quiet, for one thing. Introspective, even.
When he did talk, he still sounded a bit like an anal-retentive
literature student, but at least he had sense. And maybe even a
sense of humor. Which was a good thing to have, she supposed,
when you didn't even know if you were going to live through the
night.

"Well then," she said, smiling. "By all means, lead the
way."

With that, Kuno turned and began clearing the way before
them with swift sweeps of his bokken. Nabiki found herself once
again amazed at Kuno's skill; how he could make a wooden practice
sword behave like a blade of sharpest steel.

He was no Ranma when it came to martial arts. But that
didn't change the fact that, before Ranma and his other martial
artist cohorts had showed up in Nerima, Kuno had been the best,
which was no small feat.

The cleanly severed leaves and branches fell to the ground
with a steady rustle that might have been comforting... were it
not for the complete absence of other sounds.

"Hey, Kuno."

"Yes?"

"Can you sing?"

Kuno paused in cleaving his way through the forest and
turned to look at her in surprise. "Pardon?"

She shrugged. "It's just... this freaky silence and
everything. It's creeping me out, and I thought, you know, maybe
a... a hiking song or something..." Kuno stared at her, and she
could feel herself flushing red. She was suddenly glad, at least
momentarily, for the cover of darkness. What on earth was she
thinking, asking Kuno if he could *sing* of all things? Gah!
Chalk up one more strange thing that fear could do to a normally
rational person like herself...

"Okay," she said, clenching her teeth, "I know, it's a
stupid, cheesy idea. I don't care. Besides, it's not like we'll
be able to take Cologne by surprise or anything, what with you
crashing through this jungle like a rabid elephant." She waved
her hand towards the fallen foliage in an impatient gesture. "So
it's not like a bit of extra noise would hurt."

Kuno paused, as if carefully considering his words. "I
didn't say it was a stupid idea," he said at last.

"No," she replied shortly, "but you were staring at me like
it was."

"I was merely wondering why *you* don't sing, if you feel
such a need for it."

Nabiki nearly choked. Her? Sing in front of Kuno? "Sorry,"
she said quickly, "but my throat's so dry right now, I'd sound
like a bullfrog on a gravel diet."

Was that a smile on the edge of his lips? In the darkness,
she couldn't tell. He'd better not be laughing at her...

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a singer," he said.

Nabiki sighed and ran her hand through her hair, which,
after four days in the wilderness, only served to remind her how
badly she wanted a shower. "Fine. You won't sing, I won't sing.
Forget I mentioned it. Let's just *go,* okay?"

"Very well."

Kuno turned and resumed his hack-and-slash passage through
the forest.

After a few moments... he began whistling.

Nabiki blinked in surprise.

It was a rough, raspy sound at first, but then Kuno paused
to lick his lips. When he began again, the notes were clear and
steady, floating thinly through the vast silence that surrounded
them.

The notes rose and fell in a light, airy melody. It sounded
like an old folk song of some kind, though Nabiki didn't
recognize it.

And she felt herself flushing again, embarrassed and yet
grateful all the same. She felt silly, feeling so suddenly
comforted, like a child afraid of the dark who needed a night
light and a teddy bear. But better this than to allow herself to
be overwhelmed by everything that had happened, topped off with
her fears of everything that might be ahead of them... or around
them...

It was... awfully nice of Kuno to whistle, she reluctantly
admitted to herself. Probably one of the nicest things anyone
had ever done for her...

And in a way, his kindness scared her even more than the
terrifying, supernatural silence. His change in demeanor; his
unexpected thoughtfulness was making her feel... warm things
about him. He was whistling past the metaphorical graveyard for
her sake, to keep fear, ghosts or both away. He was giving her
strength and support at a time when she'd never felt more weak
and worthless. And, at this moment, he was making her feel so
intensely grateful, she could feel tears beginning to burn her
eyes and throat.

*On second thought... maybe this is the *perfect* time to
slip back into ice queen mode,* she thought.

Still, she possessed at least one more thread of self-
control; at least one spark of rationality that hadn't yet been
severed in the past few hours. And she clung to it like a
lifeline.

She was Nabiki Tendo. She could handle this. If there was
a way to get out of this nightmare alive, she would figure it
out.

And then she could decide, with a mind not muddled by
terror, how she *really* felt about Kuno.

So, instead of crying, she clenched her teeth against the
aching in her throat and the burning behind her eyes, and
followed Kuno silently. And she listened intently to the slash
of his bokken, the rustling of leaves and branches falling before
them, and the cheery folk tune that Kuno kept whistling, keeping
them surrounded with a small pocket of sound that was, if not
safe, at least keeping her terror at bay.

And then, in the distance, far outside their little pocket
of noise... they heard the wailing.

They both heard it at the same time, and they froze in mid-
movement, staring wide-eyed out into the darkness. Kuno's
whistling faltered, the notes dying on his lips, as the faint,
eerie sound reached their ears.

Nabiki's jaw was clenched so hard, it hurt. Taking a deep
breath, she forced herself to relax. "Um... I know I'm going to
be sorry for asking this," she said in a low voice, "but... what
in the hell was that?"

"I don't know." Kuno frowned, peering intently into the
inky darkness.

Nabiki grimaced. "Can you tell where it's-"

The words froze in her throat as the haunting, inhuman cry
rent the air again -- a shriek of fury and despair that made
goose bumps erupt along her arms.

And then Nabiki felt the strange breeze on her skin, biting
cold like the sting of needles.

"Okay," she said, with a strange, tight calmness. "I'm for
running. Right now. How about you?"

But before Kuno could even reply, they heard the scream
again, full of soul-rending rage, and Nabiki felt her heart
clamber violently up her throat as the sound reached a nerve-
jangling crescendo. And with the scream, an icy, freezing wind
whipped through the woods around them, lashing the foliage into a
frenzy, numbing the skin of her face and arms, making her nose
run and her ears ache... Through her shivering terror, Nabiki
realized belatedly that she was clutching Kuno's arm, and that
she intended to run, it didn't matter where, just as long as it
was away from *that* and so she would run and she would drag Kuno
along with her...

...but then the wind died. And as it did, the scream
faltered... and dissolved into quiet, broken... weeping?

Nabiki stood like a statue, peering blindly into the
darkness, listening intently, trying to hear over the thudding of
her heartbeat in her ears. Still, in the ensuing silence, it was
much easier to tell the direction of where the sound was coming
from...

Ahead of them, and off to the left...

"Kuno," she whispered, almost mouthing the word to keep the
sound from carrying. She pointed off to the right. "Let's go
that way. Come on, now's our chance."

Kuno didn't move. He was staring into the thick forest
towards the haunting, sobbing sound of despair.

Nabiki tugged impatiently on Kuno's arm. "Kuno..."

"Shh," he hushed. "Listen..."

"I don't *want* to listen," Nabiki hissed, trying to keep
from raising her voice. "I want to get the hell out of--"

And then the weeping changed to a whisper that sent a chill
of dread rippling up Nabiki's spine. The whisper was distant and
faint, but clear in the absence of other sounds.

"Akane," the voice sobbed quietly in a strangely familiar
voice. "Akane-chan..."

Kuno turned to look at Nabiki, and even in the darkness
Nabiki could see that his eyes were as wide as hers.

"Oh gods." Nabiki blinked as the pieces suddenly fell into
place. "It's the Snow Woman."

Kuno looked at her sharply in surprise. "The Snow Woman?
Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure," she replied shortly, still shivering
from the sudden onset of the unseasonable winter cold.

"But why is she here?" Kuno's voice was barely audible, but
Nabiki could still hear the disturbed tone of his voice. "Does
she not reside in the Kami Realm, as you said? Why did she
scream with such distress, and why is she calling for your
sister?"

The questions, which echoed the ones in her own heart,
caused an old familiar calm to settle within her. Nabiki felt
her down-to-business mask fall into place with an almost audible
*snap* as a fiery anxiousness rose within her chest, burning
through her frozen, incapacitating terror.

She looked at Kuno with a stoic, half-lidded gaze. "Let's
find out," she said.

That was all the urging Kuno needed. He immediately turned
and began to slash a trail through the choking foliage towards
the sound. Nabiki followed.

As they made their way through the dense forest, she noticed
that the fresh spring growth of the surrounding foliage... was
covered in a thin layer of white frost. The frost glinted in the
brief patches of starlight that managed to struggle through the
tangled, leafy canopy overhead. With each step they took towards
the piteous sound of the Snow Woman's quiet sobs, the temperature
seemed to drop, and the frost seemed to thicken around them until
each brush of a leaf brought with it the sensation of ice melting
against warm skin. The frozen ground crackled beneath their
feet.

Nabiki wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to
chatter.

Gradually, she began to see a soft blue glow filtering
through the darkness of the winter-shrouded thicket before them.
Each frost-layered leaf and branch seemed to catch the ghostly
light and hold it within each crystal, so that they seemed almost
luminescent in and of themselves. A thick white fog crept across
the forest floor, cold tendrils writhing about her ankles.

They were making their way through enchanted, crystalline
scenery straight out of a fairy tale, and Nabiki would have found
the sight almost beautiful, were she not so anxious to find the
source... The eerie bluish light was a welcome guide, making
Kuno's job of creating a path much easier, and Nabiki suddenly
found herself stepping quickly to keep up with him.

They emerged abruptly into a clearing, and they both
stopped, amazed at the sight before them.

Everything was covered in gleaming ice. Sheets of it
covered the ground, the rocks, the plants...

The Snow Woman knelt on the frozen ground, her head bowed as
she wept, her long white tresses flowing around her like water.
The soft blue glow that lit the clearing emanated from one
slender white hand that was pressed against the invisible barrier
of the Ancient One's Mountain... only the barrier was no longer
quite so invisible, for it was now covered with glittering
patches of frost that seemed to hang in the air like motionless
ice spirits.

Scattered on the frozen ground around the Snow Woman's
shuddering form, large jagged shards of a shattered mirror lay
glinting in the starlight.

Nabiki and Kuno stared, speechless.

The Snow Woman slowly raised her head and looked at them,
her smooth white face, etched with resigned misery, flickering
with brief surprise at their intrusion.

"You," she said softly, hoarsely, looking at Nabiki. "I
know you. You are Akane's sister..."

Nabiki stepped forward hesitantly, swallowing against the
sudden dryness in her throat. "Yes," she said. "Where is she?
Is she safe?"

"Safe?" came the lifeless reply. "Oh, no, no... Not safe,
not now... I tried to stop her... I tried to reach her first so
that she wouldn't see... but the dragon's barrier... He wouldn't
let me through..." Her free hand strayed to the slivers of glass
that surrounded her. "And... my mirror..."

"What are you talking about?" Nabiki asked tightly, trying
to smother the rising fear and frustration that swelled within
her at the Snow Woman's cryptic response. "Why isn't Akane
safe?"

The Snow Woman groaned low in her throat, a terrible sound
of anguish. "She is on the mountain... alone... and she mustn't
see..."

"See *what?*" Nabiki snapped, her ire rising. "If she's on
the mountain, then she's *not* alone! That means Ranma is with
her. He saved her, he broke the blood spell!"

The Snow Woman turned and glared at her suddenly, her frost-
blue eyes blazing even as tears of ice slid down her cheeks.
"You foolish child, don't you understand?" she cried. "Ranma
*cannot* save her! He is slain! Murdered by the demon
Shadowcat!"

Nabiki felt the blood slowly drain from her face. Behind
her, she heard Kuno mutter a low, broken oath. "Wh-what?"

"Ranma is dead," the Snow Woman said with a voice so full
grief and bitterness that it was like a raw, open wound. "And
Akane is alone on the mountain with nothing but demons and his
corpse for company."

"No," Nabiki whispered numbly. "That... that's
impossible..." Her head suddenly felt like it was full of cold
lead. Her hands were tingling. Her heart was thudding like a
rabbit's deep inside her chest. "Ranma... he... he can't..."

The Snow Woman sagged suddenly, reaching out with a white
hand to touch a shard of mirror lying on the frozen ground beside
her. "I saw it with my own eyes..."

Nabiki shook her head forcefully, as if doing so would
somehow erase the horror of the Snow Woman's revelation. "But...
the blood spell... Ranma broke it..."

"Yes. With his death," the Snow Woman whispered.

Nabiki stared at the Snow Woman in white-faced silence as
she suddenly found herself wondering how her little sister would
react when she found his body...

Kuno spoke from behind her, his voice low and intense.
"There *must* be some way to get past the barrier."

The Snow Woman turned on him, clenching her fists. "Do you
think I have not tried?! I have summoned all my power, weakened
though it is by this warm season, even calling upon the lingering
memory of winter from the earth for strength... and I can do
nothing! I have even pleaded for help from the foreign gods of
this land, but they answer me with silence!"

No adequate response came to Kuno's mind. He could only
stand, looking at the pale, beautiful woman of legend, helpless
and immobile, his mind numb and reeling at the news of Ranma's
death. The "foul sorcerer Saotome," the bane of his existence,
who had kept his True Loves from him for so long...

He would never get the chance to tell Ranma he was sorry...

And Akane...

"Cologne," Nabiki whispered.

Kuno looked at her, alarmed. "What?"

Nabiki turned her flat-eyed gaze towards him. "She had the
scroll that Shampoo used to get on the mountain the first time.
This is her land, these are her gods. On top of that, she's got
a few thousand years of Amazon history behind her, as she never
hesitates to remind us. If anyone knows how to get past the
Ancient One's barrier, she does."

"Are you suggesting," Kuno asked steadily, "that we return
and request help from one who desires to kill you?"

Nabiki didn't answer. Instead, she looked at the Snow
Woman. "You fought Cologne before. Can you do it again?"

The Snow Woman shook her head wearily. "I was able to
defeat the Amazon, only because I had the power of my own domain
at my command, and because I was able use my mirror to bridge the
gap between realms. Now my mirror lies shattered, and I am
trapped in this land, in a season where Nature itself binds my
power."

Nabiki nodded, her mouth a tight, thin line. "I see. Well,
Cologne has her own little handicap to deal with. I shot a big
hole in her shoulder, and I'm sure it's taking a lot of her will
power, or ki, or whatever to keep herself upright."

The Snow Woman looked at her sharply, her eyes wide.
"Shot..?"

"You know, with a gun." Nabiki's face was expressionless as
she made a shooting motion with one hand. "Bang. The old ghoul
was busy taking out my friends, so she wasn't expecting it. The
wound probably would have killed anyone else, but like I said,
she's got that ki stuff to hold herself together. Still, I
expect that would even the odds a bit for you."

The Snow Woman frowned speculatively, and she straightened,
rising gracefully to her feet. The weary resignation in her
countenance slowly faded as a new spark of faint hope glinted in
her frost-blue eyes. "Yes," she murmured. "That would indeed
level the playing field..."

Kuno watched the eerily-calm exchange between Nabiki and the
Snow Woman with growing unease, and cleared his throat. "Even if
by chance the old woman does know the secret to pass the barrier,
how can we force her to reveal it to us? I do not think she
would help us... *especially* if she were defeated."

Nabiki shrugged with a casualness that Kuno found deeply
disturbing. "She went through all this trouble to get Ranma,"
she said. "We'll just tell her he's in trouble. Or maybe even
offer him to her in exchange for getting us through the barrier."

Kuno couldn't hide his shock at her callousness. "But--"

"He's dead," Nabiki said coldly, her eyes flat and opaque as
smoked glass. "It doesn't matter. There's nothing we can do
about it now, but that doesn't mean I can't use the knowledge to
my advantage. I just want my sister off that mountain. Now are
you going to help us or not?"

Kuno stared at her for a long moment.

Nabiki stared right back at him. And, just beneath the
surface of those flat, emotionless eyes... he thought he saw a
flicker of unspeakable grief and anger...

He closed his eyes and nodded. "All right."

"Then let us not waste any more time," said the Snow Woman.

"Lady," Kuno said with cautious respect, "while I agree that
we must act with haste for Akane's sake, I am afraid we are lost
in this wilderness. Our camp lies somewhere near this barrier,
but the base of the mountain is vast."

Rather than answering, the Snow Woman reached down and
picked up a single shard of mirror, the size of her hand, and
kissed it with her icy breath. The swirling frost magic cleared
to reveal within the shard, the image of an ancient, white-haired
crone, hunched over her wounded shoulder as she stared into the
flickering flames of a campfire...

"There," Yuki-onna said, her voice as cold and hard as the
mirror's surface. "This will show us the quickest way." She
looked up and met Kuno's astonished gaze, and a small, grim smile
quirked the edges of her white lips. "For good or ill, young
mortal, we will confront the Amazon soon."

~*~

To be continued...