A young woman wearing a black cloak and pointed hood met them, leading the way up into the tower. At the railing, there was another woman there, wearing luxurious foreign clothing. Beside her there was a small hunching man wearing a kimono in the Mikuman style, though he wasn’t from Mikuma—that much she could see by looking at him.

The woman, tall, turned slightly. Her face shone in the moonlight. She was beautiful. “Ah,” she said, “The Sword of a Thousand Suns has returned.” She turned to address her captor and her eyes went to Sakura. “And what is this?”

“My prisoner,” he said. “She is not to be harmed.”

The woman sniffed, then seemed thoughtful as she looked at Sakura from head to toe. “Mmm.”

That look—she didn’t like it. It seemed lascivious in a way. “Are you not just the yummiest thing? I could feel you approaching from the edge of the harbor.”

“I said she’s not to be harmed.”

“I heard you, swordsman.”

The small hunching man looked upon Sakura with a similar interest, but his was a more open, unbridled hunger, slathering even.

“Hmm,” the woman noised thoughtfully. “What are your aims, Karimato-san?” The honorific, she stressed with what sounded to the dancer like mild contempt.

Her captor—Karimato—the name… it seemed familiar. He said nothing. Have I heard this name before?

Finally he said, “I seek a duel with the White Feather.”

“Ah,” the tall woman said. “Now it makes sense. I wonder, would your master Hukama-sama approve?”

“It’s not your concern, witch.”

The little man beside her seemed confused. The “witch” as her captor had called her, breathed in deeply as she looked about across the harbor where the battle was taking place. It was much too quiet now.

“The battle is over, it seems. Perhaps you will get what you wish, swordsman. Assuming this “White Feather” of yours hasn’t perished.”

“She’s alive,” he said.

“And how do you presume to get her here?”

“She will come,” he said enigmatically.

“Oh, a plot! I love plots—I love mysteries.”

The small man beside her seemed to be even more confounded than before. “Oh never mind your simple brain can’t fathom this, dog.”

He snarled up at her, demanded she not call him that. In reply she giggled. “Well… you’re certainly no spider either. Tell me, Karimato-san. Tell me your plans. Perhaps I can assist?”

Sakura felt so out of place standing there on the guard walk between her captor and these other characters at her front looking over the harbor.

Why had the fighting stopped? What happened?

And then the woman looked at her, addressing her directly. “Your emperor is no doubt dead. That is why the battle has ceased.” She said the words with unbridled amusement.

Sakura sucked in a sharp breath. Impossible. How can the emperor be dead? But somehow her thoughts went directly to Lawrence and his wellbeing. Is he alive?

“So,” the woman continued. “Can I assume this”—she looked Sakura up and down again—“this girl is of very little use to you, so long as you get what you want? This White Feather woman?”

“Yes.”

“Very well,” she said, looking back out across the harbor. “I want this woman. Promise to give her to me and I will assist you in your aims. Can we make an arrangement?”

“I do not require your assistance, witch,” he said contemptuously, though his tone was quiet and level.

“Ah, but you might find that you do. How else will you get the White Feather here? Does she have some connection to the girl?”

Who is this White Feather?

Sakura heard mention of her in the camp but she didn’t remember ever seeing the woman, though she had heard Lawrence mention her. Or had she been that woman they met in the forest?

“The mage will come,” Karimato said, joining the woman and the small hunching man at the railing.

“The White Feather…” the tall woman mused. “She’s no mage. Who do you speak of? The plot thickens, it seems.”

“He will bring her to me.”

In his voice, Sakura could sense the tinged annoyance there. “Well,” the woman said sweetly. “I will assist you, should you require it of me. After you are finished with your task, you will no doubt have no need for this mage or this girl you have brought here.”

“Perhaps,” Karimato said.

The witch smiled, giggling, a tinkling, musical sound. “Let us find out what will happen.”