((Follows the events of Hanging Softly Upon the Cheek of Night))

The return journey from the Realm of the Thaynes happened faster than I could blink. One moment I stood on a lush mauve carpet of grass and moss, listening to the musical sound of the wind trawling the treetops. The next my sandalled feet scraped on the harsh stone floor of the tunnel beneath the Shiriyama mountains. The verdant sunlight vanished, replaced by the near total darkness of the cavern.

I breathed deeply of the dank air, grounding myself back in mortal reality.

“Gingitsu,” I called for the trickster kitsune, the silver-furred scoundrel with nine tails who had taken my boots as the price of guiding me to Phantaria.

Only the echo of my own voice responded. I did not bother to repeat myself. The Lore Guardian was responsible for the portal between the Realm of the Thaynes and the mortal world. He would know I had used it; he was choosing not to show himself.

With measured strides I moved out of the long tunnel, trailing a callused hand along the rough-hewn wall to assist my low light vision.

“Adachi-san?” I called as I neared the tunnel’s entrance. I did not want the sacred crystal cavern’s protector to try cutting me in half again. This time there was no response at all. My low voice went out the opening and vanished into the night.

“Hinata?” I spoke the nekojin’s first name as I rounded the corner, sandals slapping the ground lightly. Only a light breeze greeted me.

I breathed out. Where could the samurai have gone? It had taken the full weight of my reputation to get past him in the first place. Nothing could have forced him to leave his post. And judging by the depth of the darkness outside, only a few hours had passed since I entered Phantaria.

I breathed in, and nearly retched. The wind coming into the tunnel smelled wrong. Rather than pure mountain air, the scent of too much death invaded my nostrils.

McKinely.

My mortal lover was the first thought to cross my mind. I had left her in a little cabin not far from Ninyama, the village surrounding the crystal caverns.

Forgetting Gingitsu, Hinata, and my boots, I raced out into the night. The rancid wind whipped through my black shirt and pants, and soot sprayed from beneath my sandals.

The village lay in ruins. Each building looked as if it had been bombarded by onager stones in a siege. I ran past burned out homes, overturned handcarts, and crumbling masonry. I ran until the mountain wind cut me like a knife, and didn’t stop until the flapping sandals carried me to the little cabin.

Its ceiling was caved in, its wall marred by black. As the growing sense of dread threatened to consume me, I forced myself to look inside. McKinely was nowhere to be seen.