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world。 It is a cold and hateful place； joyless and as sere as the ' great Gobi。
Air bellows in and out of her lungs as if through some baleful force outside her ken and she curls up inside herself； crying and shivering。
Still her hands are calm and controlled as she places them one over the other around the wound leather handle of the katana； feeling its weight and its balance； knowing … and not knowing how she knows … the perfection of it。
Now her bare feet are placed slowly one before the other； at precise angles； as she draws ever closer to the muscular back at the front of the room。
Cool light floods her as she es out from the shadows and she pauses a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the glare。
Now she is so close that it seems her harsh breath must brush his skin。 Her arms are raised high over her head in preparation for the one lethal blow。 One instant and it is all over： the striking of a match in the dark； the flick of one fingernail against another。 The difference between life and death。
The tip of the katana begins to quiver as the killing energy is built up。 One cannot use the iai in this situation … the great scream that releases so much energy。 How does she know this？ she wonders。 One must draw the power upwards from the lower abdomen … more； more； the muscles are so weak。
And it is at this moment； as the katana mences its dark downward rush； that her core； at last seeing； begins to uncurl。
No！ she screamed to herself。 No no no！
But the blade was already a blur； cleaving the air as it went down and down and； despairing； she knew that it was far too late。
In flight； his spirit seemed to take on the characteristics of an old man。 Not any old man but a particular one。
Nicholas； unbound； was old yet seemed not to feel the years。 Rather； they hung over one bare； insubstantial arm like a series of silk scarves； each one a different colour； corresponding to its memories。
In the sky of the new day he danced the dance of life； a delighted child who has nevertheless seen many things； experienced many days and nights。 He fashioned stalks of wheat from the stuff of the clouds and； grasping one in each fist； swirled them around and around his head like crepe paper streamers。
Below him the continent of Ask stretched itself like an enormous tiger； yawning in the early morning； just beginning to stir。 Yet it was the Asia of another time； before the advent of heavy industrialization； the revolution in China； the devastation of Vietnam and Cambodia。 The air was like incense。
Nicholas became aware of Justine and the katana at the same instant。 Had he not been so far away； the haragei would have picked up the intent far sooner。 But he was relaxed and； for that moment went unaware。
But in this last instant he had heard the bolt of black thunder and was already turning as the katana rushed down upon him。
There was； of course； no time for cerebration。 Had he paused to think； even for the barest of instants； he would have died。 As it was； it was closer than he liked to think about。
There are various methods of winning a battle without a sword。 The one he knew best was Letting Go the Hilt and he used it now； instinctively reaching up with his arms crossed just past the wrists so that he came hi within the arc of the blade； slamming Justine's forearms away and up。
He was on his feet and she came at him with a horizontal cut from left to right and he knew then what had happened。
With a shattering cry； he extended his left leg； bending at the knee； and crossed hi right arm over his left； applying a blow to her fists with the flat of his hand。
He stamped； startling her； and broke towards the katana。 Half way there； he realized that the blow he was about to deliver would shatter the bones in her wrists and instead grasped them； wrenching backwards； right over left； until she cried out and the blade clattered to the floor。
Her knee came up and struck him in the pit of his stomach。 He bent over and she pounded his back with both her fists。
The breath whooshed out of him but； in falling； he managed to use his forearms to sweep her off her feet。 She fell heavily half on top of him and immediately began to strike out。
Nicholas reached up through the rain of blows； touched the side of her neck。 Something screamed。 It came from her wide…open mouth； it used her vocal cords； but she never could have made that sound on her own。 Her strange black eyes flew upwards in their sockets until only the whites showed and then the lids came down and she slumped； unconscious； across him； her long hair half…covering the shining steel blade of the abandoned katana。
It had been that second cut。 Left to right。 Justine was right…handed and would have cut from right to left。 It was not Justine who wielded the blade。 In any event； she would not have been able to handle the katana so well。 '
Saiminjutsu … the art of ninja hypnotism … was just one of the sub…specialties he had learned years ago。 He worked over her for more than four hours … to undo was far more difficult than to do … using everything he had been taught； to exorcize the demon that had been planted in her。
Sweat dripped off them both like rain； mingling on the wooden floor； as he worked on and on until； at last； her body shuddered in his arms and she gave a fierce； startled cry。
Within moments； she was in a sound sleep。 But he would not give her up； even then； and held her； cradled protectively in his arms and lap； leaving her only once during the long； heating day to relieve himself and to wet a towel with cool water so that he could place it over her forehead。
For almost all of the time； he stared down into her face； his features somehow different from what they had been earlier。 Once； the sound of the quiet bubbling of the fish tank intruded upon his thoughts and he looked briefly over at the denizens of the deep at play among the tall green columns of vegetation and the spiny backs of coloured rocks。 They regarded him impassively from beyond the glass； from another world entirely。
By the third day she had recovered fully。 Before that； she slept on and off most of the time as one does when fighting off an evil disease。
During that time； Nicholas fed her and washed her； not minding at all。 He would sit on the porch for long hours at a time； staring out at the sea； past the bathers and the sun worshippers as if they did not exist； but he did not go onto the beach nor near the water。 He would not go that far away from her。
And when that day dawned when she opened her eyes and they were perfectly clear； the tiny scarlet motes in the left one as brilliant as fires on a plain； he put his arms around her and kissed her。
It was not until he had made them breakfast and she had taken in the paper that he told her what had happened。 He told her everything because this was something she must know； to understand that she had had the strength and the courage to pull through。 Because he never could have acplished it on his own。 She had fought the Kobudera from the beginning。
'I am strong now。' She laughed。 'As strong as you。'
'In a way；' he said； more seriously than she； 'yes。' ^She shuddered。 'Such power needs gett