He almost broke into a wide smile, but forced himself to stay utterly impa.s.sive. It drove her crazy when he seemed unreachable like that, and it would escalate the tension and the enjoyment of the game.

"You don't like me?" she said.

"You know I do," he said finally.

Shuko moved toward him, but he stopped her.

And instead he brought both of his hands around her neck and squeezed.

Her eyes popped open, going white with terror.

She tried to speak, but Nezuma's grip was total and without any gaps. Air simply would not flow and enable the words to escape the python-like grasp he had on her throat.

He expected her to fight.

She did not.

He leaned close to her face. "It was your idea that we should leave Ueno Castle this afternoon and chase after our prey like a pair of fools."

Her head shook just a little bit. The color in her face deepened as she struggled to maintain consciousness.

"Now, we have lost them."

He could feel her pulse throbbing against the dam he'd created with his grip. Blood desperately wanted to get into her head while more wanted to get out of it. Neither would succeed as long as he held her the way he did.

"You know that I do not tolerate failure," he said.

Her eyes implored him. If she could have spoken, she might have pleaded with him for mercy. But Nezuma was not a merciful man.

Not tonight anyway.

"We could have stayed longer and possibly found them, but your carelessness and impatience made us look like fools. Worse, we looked like amateurs and lost our strategic ground to a ninja of all things."

He leaned closer and kissed her lips. They already felt cooler to the touch.

Pretty soon, he reasoned, she'd lose consciousness. If he kept the pressure on after that, her brain would starve for oxygen and she would die.

"Let this be a lesson to you."

He increased the pressure on her trachea. Her body started to spasm. Her limbs flailed, thrashing in the water, spilling the contents of the ofuro ofuro bath over the side. bath over the side.

"No one is safe from my wrath. Not even the likes of you-a woman I truly love."

He released her.

Shuko gasped loudly and then immediately retched over the side of the tub, spraying vomit over the surface of the deck. She collapsed in the water, her hands on her neck, trying desperately to flush her system with oxygen.

She drank a little bit of the water and then spit that over the side, ridding herself of the last bits of vomit in her mouth.

"M-master..."

Shuko's breathing was shallow and intense.

"I apologize for my stupidity, master."

Nezuma smiled. "I know you do."

"It will not happen again."

"No," Nezuma said. "Because if it does, I will not release you from certain death. You will die by my hand."

He looked deep into her eyes and bared his teeth.

"Let's go to bed now. We have much to do tomorrow." He gathered his red kimono. "Hopefully, we can find some way to make up for the grave mistakes you made today."

22.

"Nice place."

Ken looked around the expanse of the ryokan ryokan rural inn and nodded. "These places are what I love best about traveling out of the city. You'll find old-world charm and people who still strive to keep tradition alive in spite of the onslaught of technological advances." rural inn and nodded. "These places are what I love best about traveling out of the city. You'll find old-world charm and people who still strive to keep tradition alive in spite of the onslaught of technological advances."

Annja grinned. "Sounds like you've made that speech before."

"Never," Ken said. "I'll get us checked in."

"I don't suppose they have a vacancy sign out front?"

"Not really."

Annja stepped over the crushed-gravel walkway, aware that her footsteps made a lot of noise in the dark of night. To her left sat a heavy stone lantern with a candle burning inside that cast some light onto the walkway. But it was far from overpowering, merely a gentle flickering glow that helped her find her way.

Ken, naturally, walked right across the gravel barely making a sound. Annja frowned. "Show-off," she muttered.

He glanced around. "Huh? Oh, sorry."

"I don't suppose you give out free lessons on exactly how you're doing that without making a lick of noise?"

He stopped and pointed at his knees. "I keep my knees bent. And my footsteps are much closer together-a short stride."

"Is that it?"

He smirked. "My feet also don't lift and stomp down on the rocks. They roll over them. It's a sort of rolling footwork that compacts the stones together before too much weight is applied and causes the action to make a lot of noise."

Annja tried lowering herself on bent knees and kept her feet closer together as she rolled across. The stones still made noise when she tried it.

"It does take a great deal of practice," Ken said. "And leaves are even tougher."

"Swell," Annja said. "I guess I flunk out as a ninja-in-training, huh?"

"Maybe you can get some gravel installed at your apartment in Brooklyn."

She pointed. "Now, there's a thought. A bad one, but it's a thought nonetheless."

Ken smiled. "I'll go ahead and check us in while you practice." He moved on, leaving Annja alone in the darkness.

Bend my knees, she thought, frowning again. I was bending my knees. And then the rolling footwork. How the h.e.l.l did he do that? She bent her knees again and tried allowing her feet to come down almost in an arc with the heel touching first and then the rest of the foot as she rolled across the stone.

This time, the noise was greatly reduced.

"Hey, cool-"

She stopped.

A breeze had scampered across the area, rustling tree limbs and leaves. She shivered and realized she felt tense. She turned and looked out into the night. The ambient light from the lantern wasn't so bright that she couldn't see into the darkness.

All around the inn the mist-enshrouded mountains of Iga loomed. The birthplace of ninjitsu ninjitsu was what Ken called it. She shivered again as another breeze laid its hand across her shoulders. Imagine the history of this place, she thought. Imagine what it would have been like traveling through here at night hundreds of years ago when this region was controlled by the ninja. was what Ken called it. She shivered again as another breeze laid its hand across her shoulders. Imagine the history of this place, she thought. Imagine what it would have been like traveling through here at night hundreds of years ago when this region was controlled by the ninja.

Annja frowned. She was letting her imagination run away with itself. She was, after all, a scientist, and even though Ken had certainly proved that ninja still existed and Annja herself had trained in some of their amazing techniques, she was letting the superst.i.tions about them get a hold of her mind.

And that was dangerous.

Still, it was somewhat spooky being out in the night like this when everything else was completely silent.

Where was Ken?

She moved up the path and found the entrance to the inn. From inside, much brighter light spilled onto the gravel walkway. She saw Ken talking to the innkeeper, a gaunt old man wrapped in a dull gray kimono.

As Annja approached, the innkeeper looked around Ken and frowned when he saw her. He muttered something to Ken, who barked back at him.

Annja could feel the tension immediately escalate. "Everything okay?"

Ken looked back at her. "Give me a moment, would you?"

"Sure." Annja backed out and waited just outside the entrance. She made a note to start studying j.a.panese when she returned home. Whatever Ken was saying to the innkeeper, it didn't sound particularly friendly.

Had Garin been right about him? Was Ken someone Annja should be wary of? Was he up to something bad? Her instincts offered no warnings.

Ken ducked back outside. "I apologize."

"Everything all right?"

Ken glanced away. "I'd rather not discuss it."

"It sounded serious."

"Stupid is what it is," Ken said.

"I'd like to know."

He sighed. "All right. The innkeeper was a bit upset that you weren't j.a.panese."

"Excuse me?"

Ken nodded. "I know, I know. It's ridiculous, right? In this day and age, the idea that someone would be racist or xenophobic is truly appalling. It turns my stomach, believe me. But unfortunately, once you leave the cities, in parts of j.a.pan, just like in America, you run into hicks who can't figure out if the earth is round or not. This guy happens to be one of those special morons."

"A j.a.panese hick." Annja grinned. "Who woulda thought?"

"Not me," Ken said. "Or I certainly wouldn't have taken you here. However," he sighed, "it is late and I'm not so sure we can make it to another ryokan ryokan. They tend to close early and if we don't take what we have, we might not have anything."

Annja nodded. "And I expect we'll be out for a few days in the woods anyway, so I suppose we ought to have one final night in comfort, so to speak."

"Exactly."

"I've dealt with worse," Annja said. "And I'm sure you have, too."

"On a highway in Mississippi outside of Keesler Air Force Base a few years back," Ken said, "I was walking with a good friend of mine who happens to be African-American. We were walking toward the riverboat-gambling area and a pickup truck full of rednecks rolled by hurling racial epithets at us."

Annja shook her head. "What did you do?"

"Well, my friend wanted to fight them then and there, but they were driving too fast for us to catch on foot. However, as providence would have it, we were invited to a party at a local motel and what vehicle should just happen to be in the parking lot but the very one full of those inbred, narrow-minded idiots."

Annja grinned. "I take it you enlightened them as to the error of their ways?"

"Believe it or not," Ken said, "I did very little. The real dervish that night was my friend who stood all of about five and a half feet tall but had a spirit a mile high. He sent three of them to the hospital."

"Sounds like a good friend to have."

Ken smiled. "There have been several times since that night that I have dearly wished he was around."

"Get the room," Annja said. "And don't worry-I won't send the old man to the hospital unless I absolutely have to."

Ken ducked back inside and returned moments later. "We're all set. Follow me."

Annja entered the ryokan ryokan again and found the innkeeper suitably sheepish this time. Whatever Ken had told him had apparently reduced his hostility exponentially. The innkeeper gave Annja a stiff bow and welcomed her. With one hand holding a candle he beckoned them to follow him down a narrow corridor. again and found the innkeeper suitably sheepish this time. Whatever Ken had told him had apparently reduced his hostility exponentially. The innkeeper gave Annja a stiff bow and welcomed her. With one hand holding a candle he beckoned them to follow him down a narrow corridor.

On either side, Annja could hear the soft snoring noises of other guests. She and Ken had left their shoes in the entranceway and on stocking feet they made no noise as they traversed the hall's shiny wood flooring.

At the far end, the innkeeper turned left down another corridor and at last knelt before a shoji screen door and slid it back on its runners.

Inside, a young woman dressed in a floral kimono knelt and was placing small plates of food and bowls of rice on a low table. She looked up and bowed at the sight of Ken.

"Dinner?" Annja asked.