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ive inches。 At that point he saw another hairline connecting with the first at right angles。 His pulse began to jump and he looked around； fearful that he might be observed。 All was quiet。
Now as he craned his neck he could see that the porcelain vase was at the very center of what could only be a secret door。 He jammed the flowers into the vase and carefully lifted it away； putting it to one side。
He produced a blade so thin it appeared no wider than a filament of wire。 The point of this he slowly lowered to the hairline shadow； probing with the utmost caution for should he slip or in any way mark this polished； smooth surface； he would be undone。 Already his brother in arms had been discovered； by what method he could not guess； and destroyed。 There must not be the slightest hint that another traitor existed within the dojo。
His ears attuned for the slightest alteration in the quiet background sounds from within the buildings； he worked his blade surely and methodically； rejoicing at the slightest movement of the wood panel； content to be patient。
And at last he was rewarded。 There was no hinge； the piece just lifted out。 Tengu nodded to himself。 Considering the nature of the hiding place it was a far securer system； for the sensei was sure to see any signs of tampering with such a tight fit。
Beneath the panel was a drop of perhaps three inches； then a horizontal metal door with a spring lock。 Again； using his multipurpose knife； the man popped the lock。 Inside he found papers。 It was these he had e here to search for。 Quickly now； he stuffed the wad of rice paper into his loose cotton jacket。 He could feel their frail fluttering like a trapped bird against his bare skin。 Then he set about returning the double…lidded safe to its original position。
Concentrating fiercely； he spent an extra few minutes arranging the day lilies in the simplest yet most sublime arrangement。 His ikebana sensei would have approved。
Now； in the failing light； he finished packing up his meager belongings in a cotton roll sack that fitted across his shoulders and； touching the packet of papers held fast by his belt against one side of his lower belly； he emerged from his room into the empty corridor。
Swiftly； yet with no hurrying of his spirit； he went through the maze of the dojo； passing without incident through the ancient stone gates。 He skirted the red lacquer torii which stood guard over the grounds and took the high； winding path that would lead him through the foothills of the thickly wooded slopes of the Yoshino mountains。 Rising stands of cypress； cedar； and fir； rendering the air heady with their scents； swept away almost to the apex of the vault of the heavens； standing black and impenetrable against the last fiery glow of sunset。
Already； to the east； a few first…magnitude stars could be seen dimpling the oning bowl of night。 Swallows and gray plovers darted through the rustling edges of the fields below him； on their way home before the keen…eyed predators of the dark roused themselves and took wing。
Behind him； lights were already lit within the walled fortress of the dojo； wavering and hazy。 He was well quit of them。 It took all of his concentration to keep his thoughts utterly disciplined every moment he was there。 It was an exhausting business even for one such as he； for he knew by observing carefully that this particular dojo specialized not only in a myriad of arcane bujutsu subdisciplines involving the body but a number involving the mind as well。
As he pushed onward up the twisting woody slope； Tengu contemplated this。 He was somewhat acquainted with the dark side of ninjutsu。 But here in Yoshino he had begun to enter into areas in which even he did not feel entirely fortable。
Rounding a long； sweeping bend； he lost sight at last of the bastion which had been his home for so long。 He felt as if some obscure weight which had been crushing his heart had been lifted from him。 And； like the horned owl； who； bloody clawed and bloody beaked； lifts it prey up into the night； he felt a kind of eerie elation that seemed to fizz the blood in his veins。
And with it came a curiosity he could not control。 Searching for a slight break in the underbrush on the upward slope to his left； he struck off from the path in an oblique angle。 Now； hidden within the sheltering cedars； he sat cross…legged on a moss…encrusted rock。 He chose it because it had the appearance of Tokubei； the great mythic fire…breathing toad。
Mounting it made him feel more keenly the hero that he was。 He reached into the crossed opening of his jacket。
He looked up and outward past the barely discernable mountain path to the wide valley beyond； dotted here and there by glowing lights from small houses and farms。 He caught the pungent scent of a fire and he thought of the hearth； a steaming bowl of miso soup piled high with noodles。 Then he shook himself and； producing a plastic…sheathed pencil flash； unfolded the sheets of rice paper he had stolen from Kusunoki's safe。
With a curt nod he set himself to reading the vertical lines of ideograms。 Why not？ He had certainly earned the privilege。 For fully half an hour he pored over the text； substituting kanji for the ryu's plex ciphers； and as he did so his heart began to pound within his chest； his pulse rate shot up； and he found he had to fight to control his breathing。 Buddha！ he thought。 What have I stumbled onto？ His fingers trembled when he thought of the overriding implications for Japan。
And so engrossed was he in his reading that he did not notice until it was very…close a small bobbing light flitting like a will…o'…the…wisp through the trunks of the cedars。 Immediately； he doused the pencil flash； but it was already too late。 The light had stopped its rhythmic movement and now shone still and fierce at a spot on the path directly below where he sat。
Cursing the excitement that had narrowed his normally keen senses； he refolded the papers； stuffing them back into his jacket。 He hid the flash and； climbing down off the rock； moved slowly off the slope。 Far better； he felt； to emerge himself from the forest than to have the source of the light e up to find him。 Especially if it was one of the sensei from the dojo。 Tengu girded himself for such an eventuality； bringing his ki up to a sufficient level so that he could call upon its power at a split second's notice。
But as he emerged onto the serpentine pathway he saw that it was no sensei who had inadvertently seen his light but merely a young girl。
She was dressed in a gray and green kimono； rope geta on her otherwise bare feet。 She carried a small kerosene lantern in one hand； a janomegasa； a brightly colored rice…paper parasol； in the other。
Moisture beaded his face and he became aware of the soft pattering of the rain。 He had not felt it at all within the sheltering arbor of the forest。 He saw the rain in beads； sliding down the oiled rice…paper janomegasa； dripping dolefully into the earth。
〃Pardon me； madam；〃 he said； bowing mainly to hide the flood of relief in his eyes。 〃I hope my light did not frighten you。 I was out collecting wild mushrooms when I…eh…？〃
She had taken a quick step toward him； raising