CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Tetsu, you’ve had someone’s blood on you every time you come in from patrol for the past week and a half,” Chief Kato admonished the Vice-Commander a week later. “Why is it that I feel almost sorry for these criminals you’re dragging in? Yes, I know they’re guilty as hell, I’m not accusing you of anything except maybe taking out your frustrations on the streets.”

“I have a reputation to maintain,” Harada reminded the Chief with a bitter smile. “Can’t have it rumored I’ve gone soft.”

“Trust me, that’s the last rumor you’ll hear at this point,” Kato replied.

“I’ve had more of my own blood on me than anyone else’s,” Tetsuya pointed out. “And I never strike first, you know that.”

“Yes, I know that – but somehow I doubt you’re working very hard at finding peaceful solutions.” Kato was becoming seriously worried.

“No, I’m probably not,” Harada admitted. “It’s not in me right now.”

“Do you need some time off?” Kato suggested.

Harada looked horrified. “No! That’s the last thing I want.”

Kato sighed. “Then you have to control yourself a little,” he said sternly, deciding yet again not to push the issue further. He thought he might approach Thalia once she came back from interviewing some witnesses to a burglary.

She and Seizo had obviously mended their fences; they had been so clearly pleased with each other since the stakeout they’d shared that Kato would have worried over the possibility that Seizo was successfully stealing Tetsu’s woman, except the affection between them was not that kind. He had even overheard Seizo calling her ‘Kaa-chan’. That was odd in its own way, especially given how close in age they were, although he supposed Thalia did have a definite maternal streak.

***

“Yamamoto,” Thalia called softly, beckoning when he looked up. It had been just over a week since her stakeout with Seizo, and although she still had not even tried to approach Tetsuya, she felt a little better about the way things were going.

“Lieutenant Cairde,” Yamamoto said, saluting her as he approached, returning her smile.

“Do you have some time off?” she asked.

As it happened, he did, and he hadn’t been sure what he wanted to do with it. He told her this, wondering what job she wanted to send him on.

What he did not tell her was how depressed he was. He had begun to feel more invisible than ever, and with every success in his career, he felt that much more negated as a human being. He was unsure what to do about this, since he loved his job and could not imagine doing anything else.

“There’s something I want to show you,” Thalia said. “Let’s take a carriage.”

So they drove out to the woods, parking alongside the road in a remote part of the forest he had not yet explored. He wondered what was going on, but didn’t ask, not wanting to ruin the mood of mystery.

“You know about my shape-shifting?” she asked. He nodded. “And you know I have a familiar, an animal companion?” Again, he agreed, thinking back to the night he and the Vice-Commander had seen her and her wolf shift into owl and bat, then fly off together. “Good. I didn’t want you to be startled when you met Alecto.”

As soon as her name was mentioned, the huge wolf came bounding toward them. Forewarned or not, Yamamoto found this terrifying, and ducked behind the flimsy half-door of the carriage. Thalia held out her arms to the huge beast, embracing her and laughing. When the animal was calm, Thalia called Yamamoto to come and meet her.

This took a tremendous exertion of courage on his part, but he managed to leave the shelter of the carriage and even extend his trembling hand for the wolf to sniff. It seemed she approved, wagging her tail at him very politely.

“We’re going to head into the woods,” Thalia explained. “I was hunting here last week with Alecto, and we found something I think you’ll be able to appreciate more than most. To get there, you’ll need to ride on my back; I’ll go over there and change shape, then come back to pick you up.”

Yamamoto’s eyes got very big, and he did not know what to say. The prospect of this adventure scared him a little, but excited him too. He could not remember the last time anyone had found something especially for him.

Thalia didn’t wait for his reply, but went off into a thickly wooded glade where she could have privacy to change into her horse form. She brought her long dress back to Yamamoto in her teeth, so she would have something to wear when they got up there. She bent down so he could mount, knowing he was far more timid – as well as significantly shorter – than the Vice-Chief.

Once he was up, she found he kept his seat well after the first few moments of growing accustomed to each other as well as to the strangeness of the situation and the terrain. All Yamamoto needed was nurturing and confidence, she thought, and this was one way of helping him get some.

She had not noticed it, but apart from the complications of her relationships with Tetsuya and to a lesser degree with Seizo, it was not taking her long to carve herself a niche within the Shinsengumi. She felt maternal toward many of the younger officers, several of whom were still in their mid-teens. She had earned the trust of the older guys because of how clear it was that she had their best at heart. Most of them did not know about her shapeshifting or the full extent of her Fury abilities; the senior officers were keeping that close. Yet there was something intangible about her, nonetheless, that won their respect as well.

Yamamoto began to relax and enjoy himself just before they arrived at a magnificent waterfall, a white roaring torrent cascading 70 feet, then arching off a rock before descending another 90 feet into a river far below. It was breathtaking, all right. Hints of rainbows caught the light in the mist it generated around itself. He dismounted and stood admiring the view, remembering what a pleasure just breathing could be.

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When Thalia returned, he thanked her profusely. It had been a long time since he’d been able to get out like this, and he’d never seen this breathtaking waterfall before.

“I’m very glad; but this isn’t our destination yet,” she said, giving him a saucy wink. “Alecto will lead us from here – it’s not far.”

So they followed the great black-and-brown wolf deeper into the forest, among great stands of bamboo with stalks as thick as Thalia’s waist, ferns that grew as tall as they were, and soaring grey-brown trunks of ancient deciduous and evergreen trees alike. The forest hummed around them, replenishing Thalia’s strength with every breath of the redolent early summer air.

Not much further into the woods, they arrived at a cave entrance that almost seemed to beckon. Yamamoto had a long-standing fascination with caves and tunnels, their hidden treasures and intricacies. He never mentioned it, in order to avoid needless mockery connected with his undercover work.

Yet somehow, the fact that Thalia was apparently well aware of something he was half-ashamed of did not bother or surprise him in the least; she was just magical. He didn’t question it.

She extended her hand to him. “Come, Alecto can see in there, and she’ll lead us. It won’t be far.”

So he took her hand in both of his, stumbling only once in the darkness, until they passed into a realm of impossible beauty with a suddenness that stunned him.

They were without question still underground, but it looked as if they had come out into a night scintillating with millions of stars, some of which seemed to hang almost within reach. They were not merely overhead, however; in every direction, they shone and sparkled in varied hues of blue, green, purple, even red and orange. Some were sharp and faceted, like crystals; others gleamed softly with soothing radiance.

Even on the ground, there were outlines of light illuminating rocks or patches of damp ground, and Thalia led him, still holding his hands in hers, to a pond where there were plants and jellyfish that pulsed with their own shades of radiant light.

He had read about glow-worms and a few other forms of bioluminescence, but never in all his life had he dreamt that such a glory of it as lived in this chamber could really exist. He was stunned, overwhelmed with awe. He knew there were tears on his face, but didn’t care.

“Humans have not been in here for a long time, apart from you and me – well, half of me qualifies – and very few others,” Thalia said in a soft, reverent voice. “Do you know why?”

He shook his head, still unable to speak.

“The hikers that do come out this far see the magnificence of the waterfall out there, roaring and plunging so dramatically and with such vibrant power, and they are awed by it. But they go away without suspecting what hidden life might thrive behind it; what unimaginable beauty remains out of sight, preferring the darkness in order to shine. Some might think it a terrible shame that most people never know this beauty is here; as for me, I think it’s too extraordinary, too beautiful, to belong to everyone.”

He began to see what she was saying; the metaphor behind the reality. It made his tears come faster.

She continued. “It may be that you are never recognized in public, like the Commander, Vice-Commander, Captains, and even myself. It may be that you never have many friends who really know you. You’re not a loud, foaming torrent as we are; you are the unseen magnificence reserved for those few who are thoughtful enough to look for it, who deserve to be rewarded with such a rare treasure.

“Please never doubt, Yamamoto, that the waterfall loves and respects the hidden beauty that makes a home in its shadow, unseen. Also never doubt that there will be those exceptional few coming along every now and then, who find the hidden treasure and adore it as it deserves.”

Yamamoto might be the top spy and undercover operative with the Shinsengumi, but he was also still half boy at eighteen; a boy who missed his dead mother with a deep, quiet ache. Thalia soothed his heart when he had not even been fully aware how much it was aching.

“How do you always know what to say?” he asked when he could speak, knowing his depression had begun to lift because of her, because of this place, because she made the time and took him, and no one else, to see this.

“Oh – I don’t. Sometimes not even when it matters most,” she replied with a sad smile she thought he wouldn’t see.

***

Three weeks later:

Most people become immobilized – or at least slowed down – by depression; Harada Tetsuya was not most people. When depression hit him hardest, he gritted his teeth, defying it, and worked harder than ever. Since he accomplished more this way, he tended to take it as yet another sign that he was just meant to be unhappy.

Kato scoffed at this idea. “How can you know that, Tetsu, when you’ve never been happy? See what you can do when you’re happy; not just content but joyful, and then tell me how much more efficient you are in a depression.”

“Tch,” was all he’d replied to that. Throughout his entire life, there had been just those few hours with Thalia when he had felt completely alive and joyful; he certainly accomplished something during that time, but he doubted it would qualify as boosting productivity. Going by that standard, he thought, if he were happy very often the only thing he would accomplish was a population boom.

He still did not know what to do about Thalia, so he was leaving that situation alone for now. It was too painful for him to examine closely. She was the one who had closed the door on conversation, so she was the one who should open it again. Soon, that would be over a month ago.

He was beginning to think she was going to pretend he no longer existed, and would never speak to him again except as a stranger or a superior officer. And maybe that was best after all.

Meanwhile, he had been growing more suspicious that something was going on beneath the surface with Hellfire Rising. He had no evidence, so he didn’t bring it up, but he checked into it on his own time. The stakeout continued, and he still thought eventually it would bear fruit; the trouble was he had begun to think that would happen on Hellfire Rising’s terms if they did not figure out the bigger picture. He had a feeling Hellfire Rising knew they were expected, and were taking counter-measures.

Harada had developed a healthy respect for intuition, particularly his own. It led him the right way most often, and it was telling him now that there was something ominous and unseen going on; so when he felt it tug on one corner of his mind as he was walking past the docks further north than the one they were watching, he stopped and looked around with an attitude of casual boredom.

The Tigress was standing in a doorway across the street with a couple of her men. He could not repress a smile when he saw the cast on her catastrophically broken wrist. She had not seen him, but she soon would if he stayed there.

But it was not she who had attracted his attention; someone had just taken leave of the Tigress, and was now walking away from her in the opposite direction. Details about the figure were obscured by the long nondescript cloak he or she wore, yet something about it set off alarm bells in his mind; he needed to follow.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself, thinking what a pain in the ass it was that Tigress was standing between him and the cloaked figure. If he walked past her she would see him, and most likely start an uproar. If he went around the block, the cloaked figure would disappear by the time he caught up.

He eyed the building across the street from him; there was a balcony on the second floor and a broad wooden counter on the first. With some creative maneuvering, he could scale it up to the rooftops and follow from there.

As soon as he thought it, he acted: he crossed the street, leapt up onto the counter, grasped the post at the edge of the balcony and swung himself up over it, balanced on the railing of the balcony and pulled himself up onto the roof with smooth, catlike grace. He ran low over the roof tiles, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

When he reached the corner, he looked down onto the street; the figure in the cloak had turned the corner and begun striding further north. Tetsuya appraised the situation and decided to stay on the rooftops for the moment while tracking his quarry. His distinctive uniform and the daylight were against him, but the street below was empty, and he would be even more conspicuous down there. The streets were narrow alleys here, not built for allowing motor vehicles, so he could leap the gaps easily.

Every time he looked at the person in the cloak his instinct tingled a warning. He stayed low, maintaining a smooth, silent pace and keeping his quarry in sight.

Four blocks north, the cloaked figure turned west, away from the water. Harada followed, keeping to the rooftops. Near the mid-point of that block, the cloaked figure paused, looked back, and entered one of the warehouses.

All Tetsuya’s instincts were on full red alert now, though he still had no concrete reason for suspecting there was anything that should concern him here. He weighed his options after taking a cursory look at the rooftop of the building into which the cloaked figure had disappeared; there was a hatch up here. It would probably be locked, but he thought he would check it anyway.

He should be calling backup before going into any situation, especially blind; however, this was just a hunch he was following. It wasn’t official business – yet.

He went over to check the hatch; if it was locked, he would call for someone to come and back him up.

It was not locked; it opened without the hideous squeak he had been afraid of, so he lowered himself into the building onto a catwalk near the rafters.