Child

[Philomel]

Despite these troubles it was not the Ixian Knights which separated the two women.

Instead it was something far more oderous and horrible. It was the will of man. Not Harry, nor the shepard, nor Marmaduke. Not Veridian, not the farmers who had noticed the farmhouse was in use again, nor Mister Mushi who was sailing to Raiaera. It was an ordinary man, who had little to do in his life but be desperate - but a man who still had secrets. And he watched the farmhouse for several days as he assessed the strengths of the two women within.

It came with the pitch black of night. A shaking of her shoulder and a hiss.

"Lacey?" the voice whispered

Philomel grunted, waving her hand, eyes still tight closed. "She'm no' here. She'm on the ship."

"No, Lacey, I need you to wake up," a slightly confused tone to the voice this time but nevertheless insistent. Her shoulder shook, again and harder

"Ugh, she no' here, geddit? If you wan' mum then ..."

"Your mother?" a pause, and the pressure at her shoulder was relaxed a little. "Your mother is alive?"

"You'm the one keepin' af-after her ..." Philomel battered the hand out behind her more aggressively. "Tell her I be back after baby is born. I don' want to get up, Maverik. I am too ..."

A sudden, dull silence.

"But you are called Lacey."

There was a beat. A pause in the air as Philomel, woken up and dulled from waking up, blinked, her mind placing the pieces together. Blinking, she stared at the wooden panels that made up the wall before her, the seconds ticking by as she slowly realised just what she had said.

Lacey. The voice had caled her Lacey and then she had denied that that was her name. Lacey was the name she had given for herself to Mister Mushi. The same one he must have inferred to Sakura as being her name and now -

"Shit."

She sat up, bold and upright, turning swiftly to face the geisha standing on the floor by the bed and looking down at her, all the horror of the world on her face. By the light it looked to be about early dusk, with the faint sounds of morning dawn chorus filtering in through the single window to the small but perfectly useable room. Philomel bit her lip, knowing that from now on things would be even more strained between them.

"Gah ... shit," she muttered, raising a light fist to her mouth and hiding half her face, as she gazed with a sort-of apologetic glance to Sakura. "Sorry. I had to use a fake name so that no one would know ..."

"I see." A lip twisted up with distaste and Sakura was suddenly very unamused. "Whatever. What I came to say is that there are people downstairs. And they do not seem friendly.

"In fact they sound like the rioters from Akashima."

~*~