Sakura shut the bedroom door where Yoko now slept. She had drifted off nearly as soon as her head hit her pillow. The young dancer was overjoyed when they had returned, though most of her happiness was drowned out in a flood of loathing. She wanted to throttle ever single member of The Sable Adventurers.

She could almost scream. Sakura would have, had it not been for her sister’s sake.

She was safe. But will she be all right? I’m hardly all right. How can she be? Of course she’s not all right. Had they been too late, she might have been shipped off and sold as a slave in some foreign land.

It was all she could do to keep from tearing up. She drew up her kimono as she walked across the hall and down the stairs. Her tabi slippers made soft noises against the finely polished hardwoods as she went. Yoko would be fine. She hadn’t been hurt. Not seriously.

And besides, mother is with her now.

Her thoughts raced in her mind, but she pushed them back. She arrived in the dining room where the mage and his young companion sat. The boy looked healthy, but the mage was clearly not feeling well after his ordeal saving Yoko.

“…we could not have done it without you,” her father was saying.

The mage nodded dully, his eyes almost unfocused.

“You look unwell,” her brother said, glancing toward Sakura as she entered the room. She knelt down at the table and reached for the hot teapot. She poured every cup she could reach and then her own, but she didn’t drink.

“Shall I look at you?” she suggested.

“No,” the man said. “I’m well, I’m simply drained from the fighting.” He looked back to her father. “Is your family going to be safe now? What’s to stop The Sable Adventurers from coming after you? Surely they know storming their headquarters was your doing.”

“They know,” Tomiichi said.

“This city’s corruption runs deep,” Hitomo said, “and the shōgun is a tired old man who either doesn’t care or doesn’t know the things which are going on under his nose. The daimyōs are corrupt, taking bribes from whomever gives them.”

“Mostly criminal organizations,” Tomiichi added.

“Like The Sable Adventurer’s guild!” the mage’s young companion said.

They all nodded. “What’s stopping them from marching back over here and taking her back, taking all of you, or worse?”

“They could,” Hitomo said. “But now it might be more trouble than it’s worth, even if we did just send a message, an intentional message, that The Sable Adventurers can be challenged.” He sighed. “We’re lucky they’re one of the smaller guilds. They don’t have the resources to wage back-alley wars.”

“And besides,” Tomiichi said, “I have friends. Not all the Guard is corrupt.”

“The Guard has formed a secret protection circle,” the old man said. He rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “Nothing official, just… preventative in most cases.”

Sakura finally spoke up. “They might be organized,” she said, “but the gangs in our cities work in such ways as to stay out of the public eye, making their dealings look like sporadic crimes.”

“Mmm,” Hitomo acknowledged with a nod. “That is their operating method.”

Tomiichi set his tea cup back down on the table after taking a sip. “We can protect ourselves against it, so long as we know we’re the targets of such gangs.”

The mage nodded. He looked like he was about to fall over. “Why not have your Guard help instead of me?”

“Hmm,” Hitomo noised, touching his chin. “As you said, they probably know who attacked their guild, but since you’re a foreigner, there’s still a chance they will not.”

“So you do fear reprisals.”

The mage looked like he was having trouble staying away. Sakura glanced toward her brother and father. Neither of them said anything, so neither did she—but he had a good point. “Would you like to sleep here tonight?” Sakura suggested. “You’re exhausted.”

Just then there was a knock at the door. Hitomo and Tomiichi jumped, moved to the other side of the house and peaked outside. It was their reaction that made her feel more insecure, that what they said about being safe—protected by the circle—might not be as certain as they had made it sound.

“Is it Hisato?” Tomii asked.

“No,” her father said, and simply jerked his head at Sakura. “It’s for you.”

Oh, that’s right, she thought. I’ve completely forgotten! And yet, she didn’t care at all. The only thing she did care about was that she had her sister back and that she was safe.

She opened the door. It was Kaiya. Her eyes moved up and down Sakura and she gaped. “Whaaaat? What are you doing? What have you been doing?!”

“I’m—I was…” She glanced back.

“You were supposed to be at the palace ages ago! Umo has been wondering where you are for hours, you little fool! He’s nearly in a rage as it is.”

“I’m on my way now,” Sakura said.

“Yes you are!” Kaiya screeched. “Get your things. We’re leaving!”

“You’re worse than my mother.”

“Your mother isn’t dancing for the royal family at the palace tonight!”

Sakura turned toward her father and brother. Being the relatives of one of the main performers, they were expected to be there. At least when the Emperor himself would be watching.

“I’ll stay behind,” Tomiichi said.

They all knew what he meant. No one said anything else about it as Hitomo told her he and her mother would meet her at the palace. It seemed her parents had also forgotten during this day’s ordeal.

“I want to come,” the mage’s companion said. There was a bright, interest on his face. Despite his experience—his recent experience as well—he was still little more than a child.

Sakura looked at him. And the man she had saved said, “Out of the question.”

“You’re not my master anymore.”

“I’ll be your executioner if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“There’s no need for that,” Sakura said. “He can come.” She turned to the young boy. “This will be my thanks to you. For…” Kaiya was there. “For everything.”

Ishi smiled.

“What is this?” Kaiya said, almost sneering at the boy. “Who is this filthy boy?”

“It’s no concern,” Sakura said pointedly. “Take care of him. See that he gets something to wear.”

“I should see that you get something to wear.”

Sakura said nothing, only stared at the other woman. She could always out last her in this game, and finally she gave up, sighed so loudly she was nearly moaning. “Very well, Sakura.” Then to the boy she barked, “You! Whatever your name is. In the coach. Now.” She jabbed a thumb, indicating the carriage.

“My name is Ishi!”

“Now!” the dancer barked, sweeping her arm along. Her tone brooked no argument, but she was always easy to misbehave around.

He obeyed quickly and ran to the coach, inspecting the vehicle when he came to it, the coachman eyeing him askance. The driver was a local man, but well trained in the western delight that had been brought to Yukai City.