Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own many, many people, who I am not going to name specifically here.

Re-Visions

Chapter 12

Even a city as new as Fanelia rebuilt has a less than picturesque side. In fact, respectable citizens had long shunned the southwestern section, a few streets beyond the main gate, even before the city had been razed. No matter what Van tried, the dregs still drifted to this spot. At least (in his defense) these dregs were few in number.

There were two streets in this section called the 'Traveler's Hell'; named so because many travelers from other countries would end up there, unaware of the lurking danger. Sometimes, these unwary journeyers would end up dead, killed by a thief, or at the very least robbed and beaten. It didn't happen very often, but it still did happen. Few were ever caught or punished for their crimes.

Deep in Traveler's Hell was an inn and tavern, incongruously named the Traveler's Haven. Despite the newness, there lingered an odor of soured ale, of unwashed bodies. The floor had shone with fresh lacquer for about an hour, before being covered with refuse and spilt brew. Acrid smoke hung heavy in the air, as the men lazing about puffed on rolled weeds for the pleasing effects. This night was no different from any other in the false haven.

Into the squalor strode a tall man wearing a long, dark cloak, the hood of which shadowed his face. The cloak tented curiously behind him, and when he spun at a hail from a familiar voice, all could see that a long sword caused it. He spotted the man who had called him, and stalked over to his table by the windows, well removed from the few who lingered in the alehouse at this late hour.

The new arrival slid into the chair opposite the other man and growled, "You are such a fool! I've told you time and again to not draw attention!"

The other man rubbed his hands nervously. He was short, not terribly slim, but despite his girth, he was quick and agile. His features were coarse, blunt, his eyes a watery indeterminate color. He wore a heavy cap on his head, even on this warm night, to hide and protect the smooth pate beneath. His age, like his eye color, was unknown, and his conscience, like his hair, was non-existent. He kept looking down at his hands, as if to make sure they were still attached. The backs were pink and shiny, the hair all burnt away. His palms were dark, black, from running his hands over the flames he so loved. Candle flickers to the burning of Fanelia, they were all his ladies, his loves. He loved it when the flames licked at his fingers; he called it the sweet caress. The ladies had caressed him so much, he could hardly feel it anymore. As long as the fingers still worked, though, as long as they could still appreciate the fire, he would be content.

But he was too upset now to think of that. "I can't, lord," he said in a low voice, watching as his fingers twitched of their own accord. "I can't set it tonight."

The hooded man sighed. "Why not, Daj'n?" he asked quietly.

Daj'n leaned across the table. "Because she knows! The bloody wench from the Mystic Moon! She was there, this morning, when I went to find the best house. She was talking to some kid with black hair, and she said, 'I had a vision,' so I knew it was her!"

Again, a soft question from the hooded man. "So, even though I have paid you for this, you will not do it?"

"She told that kid, damnit!" Daj'n hissed. "Who's to say who is waiting for me? Who he might have told? I think she even heard me in the alley . . ."

"She didn't see you, did she?" There was a sprinkle of fear in the other's tone now, but Daj'n didn't notice, too caught up in his own worries.

"No, no, I ducked back in time, she didn't see me." He scratched at his heavily whiskered jowls. "Gods know who else that little witch has told . . ."

Within the depths of his hood, the man smiled. "Well," he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I suppose it's safe to say she told the king . . ."

"The king?" Daj'n stared at him openmouthed, and his face paled. "You mean . . . that kid is the king?" His fingers began to twitch again.

"Indeed." The man seemed to dismiss it. "Now, Daj'n. Are you sure you're not going to set it tonight?"

"The king! She told the king! I am a dead man!"

"Stop it!" The man reached across the table to grab his tunic, and shook him. "Get a hold of yourself." He flung the smaller man back down into his chair and sat back himself. "Yes, she told the king. The king told his council. If his orders were followed, there should be a squadron of samurai surrounding that area tonight."

The firebug's eyes bulged. "And . . . you still want me to do it?"

The man laughed, a hollow sound. "If his orders were followed, I said. I know there will be no guards there tonight. So go do it, or am I going to have to persuade you, as I did after that carpenter was killed?"

Daj'n shuddered. He hadn't wanted to kill that family, but he hadn't known they were there. He'd only heard about their deaths the next day, and it had frightened him a little. He'd been appalled at the feeling of power and satisfaction the knowledge had given him. He had refused the hooded man's urgings, requests and orders for a moon afterwards. He'd spent the month alternately roaring drunk and hungover. He still ached from the beating he'd gotten last sevenday, and didn't care to repeat the . . . persuasion. He stared fixedly at the table. "All right. But not tonight . . . tomorrow night. I still need to find the best place to set it, so it doesn't spread. I have to do that during the day. If you hadn't said only one house at a time, it'd be easier." He sighed when the other nodded.

"Very good, Daj'n. A few extra coins for your trouble." He threw a couple pieces of silver onto the table. They rang once and disappeared. Satisfied, he prepared to go.

"My lord?" Daj'n finally got the courage to ask what had been troubling him. "My lord, why? Why are you burning Fanelia down piecemeal like this? Shouldn't you . . . be glad that . . ."

The backhanded fist surprised him. It was delivered with sufficient force to knock his considerable weight from the chair. Stunned, Daj'n only had time to blink before the hooded man was straddling him, hands on his collar again, but squeezing his throat this time. Immediately, the noise surrounding them died away, and every man was staring at them, even the alekeep.

"You are an idiot." Every word the hooded man spoke was clearly enunciated in a tone that everyone heard in the silence. "I have my reasons, and you will never question me again. Is that understood?" When Daj'n was silent, he applied a little more pressure. "Is that understood?"

Eyes starting from their sockets, face red, Daj'n nodded frantically, banging his own head against the floor. Slowly, the large hands withdrew, as if reluctant to let him go. The other man straightened. "Be sure my orders are carried out." With that, he swept out of the tavern, his sword clanking. For a long moment, everyone stared at Daj'n as he lay gasping for air. When he arose and looked around, however, all had returned to their previous conversations. Rubbing his throat, he resumed his seat, and stared at his twitching hands.

Tomorrow . . . tomorrow, his lady would burn again . . .

***

Van awoke instantly at the strange sensation. It didn't feel threatening, but it still brought him awake. He had not been a heavy sleeper, and during the war, he had trained himself to become awake and aware at the slightest need. Now, it was hard to stop it. He forced himself to continue breathing deeply, forced himself to keep his body relaxed. He had been sleeping on his side, on his hard pallet, and stared at the opposite wall as he quickly took stock.

Yes, someone had curled up behind him, spooning him. An arm snaked across his waist, brushing his bare skin. It squeezed him a little bit, a quick hug, then laid unmoving.

Merle had stopped sneaking into his room long ago, and she had never done this, anyway. She usually curled up at his feet, if she didn't wake him up by hugging the life out of him. But the other option was almost too incredible to believe. "Hitomi?" he inquired softly.

"I'm sorry, Van," she whispered against his back. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Is something wrong?" he asked, when she said nothing further, her hand tracing circles on his stomach. Part of him wanted her to stop, as it distracted him, and part of him . . .

Her fingers stilled, flattening against his skin. "I couldn't sleep . . . I was thinking about what you said . . . and I guess . . . I'm a little scared." He felt her bury her face against his back.

He rolled over to face her then, making sure that the light blanket covering him stayed up over his hips. She was laying on it, so it was no easy task. At least she was clothed, he thought, resting one hand on her side. Hopefully, no one will walk by this late. "Hitomi, you have nothing to be scared of," he said, his hand moving to stroke her back.

She shimmied down until she could rest her head against his chest, his arm about her shoulders now. "It's just . . . I get nervous around people I don't know. Especially people who hold as much power as your council . . ."

He snorted. "What about me? I am the king, after all!"

She muffled her laugh against his chest. "That's different. I know you. I trust you . . ." Her voice quavered a bit.

Frowning in the dark, he leaned back to look at her. She was merely a shadow in the night. "You haven't met them yet. How can you think you won't be able to trust them? They're just people; they're not going to eat you. Really, they're very nice . . ."

"That's just it. I don't know. But when you said we had to meet with them and tell them, I felt a chill come over me. I'm not sure if it was a warning or if it was just nerves. I'm hoping it was just nerves." She hugged him tightly. "But I kept thinking about it, I couldn't stop- and I couldn't sleep. So I thought that . . ." She stopped, feeling her cheeks heat.

He smiled, knowing she couldn't see it. "You thought what?"

She sighed. "I thought that . . . maybe if I was with you, I would feel less scared, and then I could go to sleep. I always feel safe when I'm with you."

"Good." He held her closer for a moment, then sighed in turn. "And as much as I'd like to protect you through the night . . . you can't stay here now."

She stiffened in his arms. After a long silence, in a small voice, she asked, "Why?"

"There's this stupid law that Fanelian kings and princes have been trying to get repealed forever. It says that the king, or future king, may not marry any woman with whom he . . . well," Van blushed, and he was glad that she couldn't see it in the darkness. " . . . he has . . . uh . . . relations before his marriage."

Silence. "But . . . we're not having . . . 'relations'," she reminded him.

If you stay here much longer we might. The thought shocked him, and he swiftly erased it from his mind. Instead, he said, "We know that. But if you were to stay the night, someone else would assume that we are. I want you to be my wife too much for that to happen. Please."

A sudden thought struck her and she asked a bit fearfully, "Does . . . does this law mean that we can't spend any time together before we are married?"

He chuckled. "No. But it does mean that we would have to be chaperoned, at the very least, or else be around a group of other people."

"How many kings have tried to revoke this?" she asked with some heat. "And why haven't they?"

"All of them. And it's protected by some clause of another law. It's supposed to ensure that all of Fanelia's queens are pure."

"Queen," she repeated thoughtfully, her fingers tracing circles on him again. "I hadn't thought of that. I'm not sure I want to be a queen. I just want to be your wife."

He was so distracted by her touch that he almost missed her words. When they did register, he smiled. "Unfortunately, you can't be one without the other." He caught her hand and held it, preventing it from doing anything further to his person. "I know this will seem a little harsh, but it's something that you'll have to get used to. I had to, and I had been expecting it since I was five years old."

She nodded. "I know." She still made no move to leave.

"Hitomi, don't worry about tomorrow. They'll be so glad that I'm not fighting marriage that they'll welcome you with open arms. There are only four of them. That's not so terrible. A full council would be six or eight more people."

"You're right." She sat up, as his arms fell away from her. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I'm glad you let me." Her hand found his and she clasped it tightly. "Can I still kiss you? Or does that law prevent it?"

"It's supposed to prevent us being alone together, where we might get into 'mischief'." He grinned. "We can still kiss. In fact," his voice grew soft and a bit husky. "I will probably be in great need of your kisses . . ."

Before he finished speaking, she captured his face with her hands and kissed him deeply. Her hair tickled his cheeks. She pushed him onto his back, to get a better angle for his mouth. He felt her tongue flick against his lips, and he willingly opened them. His hands spread over her narrow back, pulling her closer, his resolve crumbling as he tasted her.

When she finally pulled back, amazed by her own aggression, they were both gasping for air. He moved his hands to her upper arms, but did not push her away. "I . . . I think that we'd better not do that again," he whispered. "I like it too much."

She laughed softly and kissed him again, gently this time. "Me too. Good night, Van." With one last caress for his cheek, she climbed to her feet and padded out of his room.

Van stared at the ceiling for many minutes after she left, not sure whether or not to curse that law. As he lay there, it came as rather a shock to him when he realized he wanted her almost as much as he loved her. The feel of her body, pressed against him, had sparked his memory of his father's advisors, instructing him in Fanelian law so long ago. But he would never dishonor Hitomi by asking her to lay with him before they were wed. Even if he had lost himself in the moment, as he so nearly had, the mere thought of spending his life without her would bring him sharply back to reality. If asked the question, he would have to respond with the truth, as would she. They were both unable to lie.

Reluctantly, he decided it was probably a good thing that damn law existed. But acknowledging that didn't make sleep return any sooner.

Although she felt better after talking to Van, sleep did not come easily to Hitomi either. Thoughts were buzzing incessantly in her head, and she could close her eyes only for a moment at a time. About daybreak, she gave up the pretense and decided today she would run before Van arose. She put on the clothes she'd wheedled out of Merle for running. They were more of Van's castoffs; a loose sleeveless shirt, about the size he'd worn during the war, and a pair of pants, so worn that she'd cut off the legs and used the excess material to patch the other pair. They were threadbare and shiny on the seat. She hoped they'd hold together a little longer.

She had not taken five strides before she realized again, as she had just days ago, how out of practice she was. The spots did not start dancing in front of her eyes until after she had completed 100 meters. She stopped, panting, and waited for them to clear. Warning me not to push myself, she thought. If I don't push myself, I won't get any better than I am right now. I still get tired too easily. I know I'm still recovering from all that I did to myself, unconsciously or not.

After a few minutes, the spots stopped flashing and she started to walk back, dreamily looking forward to a hot shower. She caught herself doing it and groaned softly. I've got to get used to it, she thought. That is something else Gaea doesn't have- no CD players, no television, not hot showers. I have a lot to get used to . . .

But it does have Van. That's something I could never get used to being without at home, no matter what conveniences surrounded me. She grinned as she climbed up the ladder. It was still early enough that there was no one about. I can at least take a quick dip in the river and get rid of the sweat . . . and wash the clothes I wore yesterday. She straightened her blankets and grabbed her clothes, before returning outside.

Merle had shown her a quiet place where the women from the castle bathed. Quickly, she shucked off her sweaty clothes and immersed herself in the water. Immediately, her teeth started to chatter. Cold! she thought, as she had the previous time. Well, it is mountain run-off, she reminded herself. What do you expect? She got out after a few more moments, when she really started shivering. She brushed the water off her arms and legs as best she could, but still didn't feel dry enough to dress. She began to soak her other clothes, and realized she'd forgotten soap. "Way to go, Kanzaki," she muttered, disgusted with herself. Well, nothing for it now but to just let the water wash away what it could. She draped the wet clothes over some nearby branches, then dressed in her own shirt and jeans. Still feeling a bit chilled from her bath, she pulled on her sweatshirt as well, and found a place to sit in the sunlight. The sun was well risen by now, and the air was just starting to warm. After only a few minutes, she found herself getting drowsy, and laid back on the grass. Van will come get me . . . was her last thought as she fell asleep.

The meeting was set for midmorning. Van was about ready to start pulling his hair out. Why does she do this to me? he wondered angrily, pacing around her room. It is almost time, and she's gone. She'd better not be wandering around the city again.

He heard a noise in the corridor. "Hitomi?" he called, and looked out the door. He was surprised to see Merle's pink head. She had taken a scrap of cloth and tied her hair back into a tail, as Hitomi had worn hers yesterday.

"Lord Van? Is Hitomi there?" she asked brightly, trying to peer around him.

"No, she's not." He scowled for a moment. "We have to be at my council meeting in just a little while." He stepped back into the room, allowing her to enter as well.

"Why?" She watched his face, and knew the answer when the scowl softened into a small smile. Before he opened his mouth, she squealed and swarmed all over him, hugging him tightly. "Lord Van, you did it! That's wonderful! Congratulations!" She kissed him chastely on the cheek. "When?"

Puzzled, he replied, "Last night . . ."

He was startled when she whacked him lightly on his arm. "Not that, you big twit! When are you getting married?"

Taken aback, he rubbed his arm absently. "I don't know. Whenever we want." Then he grinned at her. "Soon, I hope."

Merle laughed. "Well, that's more important than helping me clean. If she wants to help when you two are done, I'll be in your parents' rooms. I've finally got a long handled brush away from Gerean's crew, from downstairs." She started to leave, and over her shoulder continued, "She might have gone to do laundry. Your clothes she was wearing got really dirty yesterday. All covered with ash." She grabbed the prized brush, leaning outside by the door, and was gone.

Van cursed himself for a lovesick fool and hurried to the castle gate.

It was only a few minutes later that he found her, sleeping peacefully in a bright patch of sun. It made her sandy hair shine with highlights he'd never noticed before, almost golden in color. His anger was forgotten as he knelt beside her. She looks so tired, he thought, reaching out to shake her. I wonder if she slept at all last night.

The only response his gentle shake evoked was a groan. A slightly harder one caused her to put one arm over her eyes and mutter, "Please, Mom, just a few more minutes . . ." He laughed at that and watched as she sat up, blinking at him.

"Good morning, love," he said, still grinning. "Are you ready?"

Memory came rushing back, and she groaned again, running her hands through her hair. "We're not late, are we?" she asked, climbing to her feet and grabbing still damp clothes from where they hung.

"No, not yet. We still have a little time." He stood and took hold of her arm as she reached for the other shirt. "Don't I even get a 'good morning'?" he asked with mock petulance, drawing her into his arms. The wet clothes were pressed to his chest, but he didn't mind.

Smiling up at him, she stretched to give him a brief kiss. "Good morning," she said softly, pulling away. "Was that better?"

"Much." He smiled back at her, then released her. "If we hurry, we'll even be a little early."

Pausing only to let Hitomi dash up the ladder with her damp clothes, they ran to the council chamber. "They're already here," Van said quietly, peering in. "They've been asking about you, your health, since I told them you'd returned. They may want to ask you some questions." He caught sight of her nod, and turned to look at her. Her face was completely white. "Hitomi," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, looking into her anxious eyes. "This will be all right. Don't let them intimidate you. They're not monsters."

Her smile was shaky, but she nodded again. "I'll try." She took a deep breath. "I told you I get nervous . . ."

"There's only four of them," he reminded her. Lowering his voice, he continued, "And really, Kenet- Captain Tesk, of the samurai- doesn't carry as much weight as the other three. They were councilors under my father. Kenet only became a captain after Fanelia started to rebuild. He wants to be a general, but I don't think he can compare with Balgus." He grinned down at her. "You'll have to tell me what you think later."

"Not many people can compare with Balgus," she replied, with a bit of reverence in her tone for the slain general. "And thank you for distracting me."

He tucked one of her hands into the crook of his elbow, then smirked at her wondering expression. "I did have to learn etiquette, you know," he told her, amused. "I just was never very good at it." She giggled, and then he entered the council chamber, shortening his long stride to allow her to walk beside him.

There had been a quiet conversation in the council chamber, but it died away as the king made his appearance . . . and accompanied by a girl! There was rather a stunned quality to the following silence, as Van drew Hitomi over to the small circle of crates.

Hitomi quickly took in the three figures that rose at Van's approach. A blond man with stooped shoulders, a tall, brown haired man with a beard, and an older woman with silver hair and a cane. At one of the open windows, on the far side of the room, she could see a dark figure, with black hair, but he had his back to them, as if ignoring them. Her attention was brought back as Van started to speak.

"Lords and Lady, may I present to you Hitomi Kanzaki, the Seer from the Mystic Moon." There was a murmur of greeting, and Hitomi made a deep curtsey, awkward as it was to do so in jeans. "Hitomi, my council. Robero Jor." The blond man bowed. "Tavin Gare." A brief nod from the bearded man. "Avengine Fanel, my distant cousin," he added by way of explanation as the woman smiled graciously and nodded. Glancing around, he saw the figure at the window. "Captain!" he snapped. The figure jerked and half-turned. "If you would be so good as to join us." His tone was sharp, and Hitomi was disconcerted. From what he'd said before, she thought Van liked the captain of his samurai, and only doubted his ability.

"Before we begin today's meeting, I have one thing to say." Van took a deep breath, and Hitomi realized with some amusement that he was nervous as well, not as she was, for he knew these people, but regarding the announcement itself. She squeezed his arm. "Hitomi has done me the great honor of agreeing to become my wife and queen." His voice carried through the silence. Each of his advisors stared at him in varying degrees of disbelief, except one.

Lady Avengine wore a knowing smile, and hobbled over to take Hitomi's hand. "My congratulations, Lady Hitomi," she said, her voice strong though her body was frail. "I wish you and my young cousin every happiness." Her eyes twinkled at them.

Hitomi smiled and pressed her hand in return. "Thank you, Lady Avengine," she replied softly, making every effort not to trip over the unfamiliar name.

"And you!" She lifted her cane to tap Van's chest. "I knew just where your mind was, every meeting we've had for the past moon. Good lad," she chuckled huskily, patting his cheek. Van blushed, but said nothing.

Hesitantly, the other councilors moved forward to congratulate their king. Hitomi kept her eyes away from the captain of the samurai deliberately, concerned about the malice she felt, and it seemed to be coming from him . . .

To her credit, when Tesk finally spoke, she betrayed no reaction, though his voice scared her nearly to death.

"My lord, what spell has she cast upon you?" His voice was deep, scornful. "Or perhaps there is no spell, for she surely is not much of a Seer. She did not foretell the fire two mornings ago, and the fire she predicted for this morn did not occur. Where are the vaunted powers of the Seer of the Mystic Moon? What say you, my lady?"

Suddenly, as Tesk was speaking, Van felt little shivers of fear, beneath the anger the other's words had aroused in him. The fear was Hitomi's, he realized, as he felt her fingers clench his arm in a tourniquet-like grip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her, her face pale, with a small spot of pink in her cheek. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at Tesk, in what appeared to be dread. At the back of his mind, he heard her voice, whispering, Ken . . . ji? A bewildering series of images flashed through his head, punctuated by her remembered fear.

Taking what little courage she felt she had, Hitomi released Van's arm and stepped forward. She spoke quietly, though her tone was firm. "Captain, I did not ask for my powers, and they are not under my control. I do not have visions all the time, nor can I evoke them at will. If, by warning Van of what I saw yesterday, I helped stop that vision from becoming reality, I am grateful that some good has come from my sight."

She could feel Van's concern for her, his pride in her, and it lent strength to her trembling knees. "And as for spells . . . I know none. I am not a witch. I am merely a girl, an ordinary girl from Earth, though extraordinary things have happened to me." Her voice rose a bit. "I love Van- I love your king- enough to give my life for him. How can you hate me for that? How can you . . ." Without warning, her knees buckled, her mouth an O of astonishment as she fell.

Van caught her before she could tumble all the way to the floor. He eased her down, frightened for her now. "Hitomi?" She was shivering in his arms, her eyes wide and a glassy green. Her mouth formed soundless words, and her arms twitched, as if she would reach out. She was having a vision, he knew. He could sense nothing from her, though. She had closed their link before the vision came upon her. Her breathing was growing harsh, as if she were suffocating in her mind.

"Sire?" Jor knelt beside him, troubled.

"She's having a vision," Van said tightly. A bad one, he added silently, staring into her sightless eyes with something akin to despair.

"Is there any way to snap her out of it?" Lady Avengine peered over Jor's shoulder. "Move over, Rob," she grumbled in irritation. Obligingly, Robero shifted so she could study the girl more closely.

Van shook his head. "I don't think so. She usually comes out of them herself." Almost as if she heard his words, she whispered, "No . . ." in a tone filled with fear and desperation, and blinked. Van was relieved to see she was herself again, but only for a moment. No sooner had she focused on him and smiled than her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp in his arms.

A sardonic voice spoke into the hush. "Well, she pitches a good fit." Kenet Tesk folded his arms across his breastplate, staring at Hitomi in disdain. Tavin Gare stood near him, dark brow furrowed.

Still cradling her, Van turned to glare at the samurai. His eyes glowed red in his rage. How he wanted to thrash the insolent man! But I can't leave her, he thought, not right now. "Get out," he growled. "Before I do something you'll regret."

Tesk snorted, but sauntered toward the door. "Who will regret it?" he muttered under his breath, too low for Van to hear.

Van scooped Hitomi up into his arms and stood. "I'm taking her to Sari."

"My lord." Robero climbed to his feet as he spoke. "We do have something of great importance to discuss with you, aside from your announcement."

Van paused, frowning. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He looked down at Hitomi. Even unconscious, her face was troubled. He wanted to know what caused her such distress.

"No, my lord." With a groan, Lady Avengine slowly lowered herself to sit on a crate. "We received . . . an ultimatum this morning, from our firebug."

He was silent a moment, fighting a brief internal battle. I hope she will understand. My people come first. "All right. I'll be back in a little while."

He had hardly reached the door when a sentry blocked it, breathless from his run from the city wall. "Sire," he gasped, oblivious to the woman in Van's arms. "Airship circling . . . make as Asturian . . . signaling for landing . . . near castle . . . how to respond? Can't . . . can't find Captain Tesk . . ." He braced his hands on his knees, panting.

"Direct them to land outside the city walls. If the ship's captain has a problem with that, tell him to talk to me later, after I conclude my council meeting." He strode off, leaving the guard gaping after him.

It's Asturian? Allen, he thought, glancing down at Hitomi again. Allen. He will not take you from me . . .

An odd thought struck him. It never rains but it pours.