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s presence remained。
Akiko was curious but knew better than to ask him why he was going to the trouble of erasing all evidence of the ryu's presence in the warehouse。 Since this third…floor door was the only one that led out to a landing and the outside； it was the only one that concerned him。
Dressed； Akiko picked up her bag and went out past him。 She watched him carefully padlock the door。
〃I have no place to stay；〃 she said。
He gave her a key out of his pocket。 〃There's a spare bedroom；〃 he said。 〃Don't touch anything else in the house。〃 He wrote a street address down for her。 〃Wait for me；〃 he said。 〃I don't know when I'll be back。〃
Three weeks later they were in the countryside； surrounded by Mandarin orange groves。 Much of the southern island was still rural； retaining a high degree of the old ways。 Saigo said he liked that。
Even this far south the snow lay heavily banked； glossy on its surface； crackling underfoot with the thinnest crust of ice； as delicate as Ming porcelain。 In the moonlight it was luminescent； pushing back the spectral darkness。
Their breath hung in the air； their words made visible in albescent puffs； as connected as an island chain。
Much had changed in Akiko's life in this time； and she wondered if the same could be so for him。 With almost any other person she would have known the answer。
It had begun three weeks ago when he had e back deep into the night； opening the house door with absolute silence。 Akiko had been dreaming； but even so his spirit obtruded into the beta level in which her mind drifted while her consciousness slept。
She opened her eyes and was fully awake。 This had never surprised her because she had been born with the ability but it confounded others。
Saigo； standing in the shadows just inside the doorway； said； 〃Were you asleep？〃
If he were any good at all； he would know the answer to that； so she said； 〃No。 You wanted me to wait for you。 I did。〃
He came into the room on the balls of his feet and she felt the spitting of his spirit again； the anarchic emanations of a spiteful child。 She did not flinch from him or give any sign； no matter how remote； that she knew of his intent。 To do so would remove her greatest power over him。 Also； it would frighten him and she could not afford that。
After he had hit her and assuaged his own weaknesses； he said； 〃There is a package outside。 Go and fetch it。〃 His voice was absolutely normal。
Akiko got up and went past him。 As she did so she felt the dullness of his spirit like a sated serpent； dozing。 On the stoop she found； to her surprise； a young girl of her'own age。 She was leaning against the doorframe and she was shivering。 Putting one arm around her； Akiko took her inside。
The young girl stumbled over the doorjamb and fell heavily against Akiko； who was obliged to support her entirely for three or four steps。 The young girl was late in recovering； and in the warm lamplight inside Akiko looked at her。
Her face was beautiful but as dulled as Saigo's spirit。 The pupils of her large eyes were heavily dilated and there was a subtle musk emanating from between her half open lips。
〃She is drugged；〃 Akiko said。
〃Indeed。〃 His reaction was no more than if she had said； She's Japanese。 〃Put her to bed；〃 he said a trifle wearily。 〃She will share your room。〃
Without another word； Akiko did as he ordered her。 When she had put the young girl to sleep on the one cotton futon； wrapping her carefully in wool blankets； she returned to the living room。 She watched Saigo。 He had sunk onto the tatami； his snow…covered coat crumpled around him like a frozen lily。 His chin was on his chest and his head was nodding。 His eyes were not quite closed。
For a moment Akiko wondered what would happen if she took him now； she knew that she could do it and if that were to be her strategy she would find no better time。 He was at full kyo。
But at that moment his head snapped up and he glared at her like a viper poised to strike。 Immediately； sensing the acute danger； she washed her mind of taking the offensive； and sinking down； knelt before him； her hands open and in her lap。
His eyes became hooded and at last he had fallen asleep。 Akiko dozed as well。 But once she awoke just before dawn； her attention focused。 Across from her Saigo still slept； his breathing deep and regular and slow。 Still she could not rid herself of the feeling that he continued to watch her。
Work at the dojo was difficult in the extreme。 All life there appeared to e to a stop when she approached。 All were polite to her； but there was no harmony when she was about； and no one was more aware of this than she。
She felt that the sensei distrusted her and the students disliked her。 There was no help they would give her if it were not a matter of face that they do so。 She had never felt so alone； adrift； absolutely cut off from everything and everyone。 It was as if she were an iceberg in the tropics that the sun refused to melt。 If she existed at all for。 them it was as a wound which refused to heal。
They wished her gone and she knew it。 Still she refused to knuckle under the force of their bined will。 Men had never dictated the course of her life and she was not about to allow them to now。 She had fought against that； perhaps； from the moment of her birth。 Her will was cast in the terrible shades of steel…a thousandfold…that went into the creation of the katana； the sword of honor。 Did they actually think that they could break her？
But； oh； how they tried！ For a start； the sensei put her in with the slowest group of students； those young men who； Akiko judged； would be forced to leave the ryu within six months。 Inside an hour she had made an astoundingly accurate assessment of their abilities。 All were at a lower level than she was。 It was a deliberate slap in the face； but rather than allow herself to feel humiliation she resolved to use this maneuver to her own advantage。
As any student new to a particular ryu will do； she sat silent and rapt during the sensei's lessons； watching with concentration the exercises and； later； the strike…defense binations being illustrated。
All of this was material that Sun Hsiung had taught her and which she had mastered years ago。 Her mien was that of the learning student attempting to absorb the new and plicated。 For the moment she was content to give them what they expected。
When it came her time to practice the moves； the sensei gave way to one of the students in the class。 Another deliberate slap in the face； for all who had gone before her had worked directly with the sensei。
She was given a polished wooden pole perhaps half the thickness of a bokken…the wooden kendo practice sword…and three times as long。 She arranged herself on the polished wooden floorboards； enpassed by wood。 She did not ignore this aspect of her surroundings； taking her cue from the qualities of hardwood that the Japanese most prized： flexibility and durability。
Went into shinki kiitsu and； lifting her pole at the last possible instant； she easily knocked the student off his feet as he attacked。
Within the silence surrounding the class； the sensei sent the next boy at her。 The result was the same； though