::Chapter Six::

Argh, you're going to blast the whole royal compound! Here, watch me carefully.
Shayla-Shayla turned John around by his shoulders to face the opposite direction, towards the mountains, and stepped back. Nanami stepped back as well, and her face wore an expression of tolerance as Shayla prepared to demonstrate her prowess yet again. While she understood the reasoning behind her own presence, that hadn't prevented Nanami from being bored silly two days into John's training. At least his stay in the Temple Home had been mercifully short, she reminded herself.
Shayla began to glow a fiery orange-red, and John could hear and feel the raw power of the energies she was drawing to her command, and for a second it frightened him. But she was in total control of them, and his bones resonated with the force of the blast she sent hurtling into the air, well above and beyond any population centers.
They were practicing on a range just outside the walls of Floristica, on the southwestern side of the city where there was very little usable soil. Due to an odd geographic arrangement, an underground granite formation blocked off a good section of the land in this area from the surrounding water table, with the result that while moist from the rains, the soil here was devoid of almost any and all nutrients. On the weekends it was a popular hiking spot, but the residents of Floristica had long ago learned that Shayla liked using it for practicing her techniques where no one else could be harmed. Which was much more preferable than practicing in the middle of the city, as she had often done in the past.
But John had been facing the city when he had started to the term given to the moment of concentration required to form the spiritual energies of the lamp into a coherent external force. The past week had been spent entirely on this concept, and while he had learned enough about his own abilities to no longer trigger the lamps by accident, John was still a bit confused about the methods for controlling them.
As he watched, Shayla's fireball fell in the distance and detonated with a roar of superheated air and dirt, and she turned to him and said flippantly, Now you do it.
He snorted in response. As though it were that easy! But he was resigned to follow her instructions since Afura was tending the Muldoon Temple today. Not that being forced to work with Shayla instead was necessarily a bad thing, but to her credit she was doing an excellent job of explaining the basics. They seemed to have found some common wavelength right off, and John suspected that it had something to do with their shared dislike of authority. He'd come to see most of his new acquaintances as a good friends these past few weeks, but the only one he didn't seem to be able to connect with was Afura. She seemed to be embarrassed about the duty that Mother Moram had imposed on her, and John couldn't figure out if it was because she knew he liked her, or if she thought it was beneath her station, somehow, to train him.
Shayla continued, you shouldn't really be thinking about what you're doing. It's instinctual; there's no set methods for achieving a desired effect. Just envision it happening.
John nodded to himself, then turned to face the fields. He raised his right hand - the one with the six-jeweled lamp on it's wrist - and placed his left one over the ruby set into it. He'd established this early on as a way to help him concentrate on just one effect, and not activate all of the gems simultaneously. The first disastrous experience with that had been enough.
He began to glow himself, at first a pale reflection of the energies Shayla had gathered, but they grew steadily and within a few seconds, his aura was twice the size hers had been. Then, with a roar that must have shook the bones of the earth they were standing on, he let loose, and a peircingly-bright ball of flame shot from his hand leaving a trail of red behind it. It flew to the point on the horizon where Shayla's fireball had exploded, and sent a cloud of flame and debris into the air that towered over her own effort.
When the rubble had finished falling, John looked over at his teacher. Shayla stood there, eyeing the horizon admiringly, and her head turned toward him.
That wasn't half bad, there. Let's try something else. She smiled wickedly, and some deep instinct told John to back up a few steps. Nanami followed his example and watched nervously.
They both saw Shayla gather for a few seconds, but this time the energy of her aura leapt straight up into the air, and as it began to take shape he could see her concentrating on making it ever more powerful. A giant red phoenix appeared above her, as tall as the Royal Palace itself, and as Shayla yelled with all her might it roared out of the sky and struck the ground with terrifying force.
The ravaged across the landscape, tearing up earth and what little patches of grass and desert foliage had managed to scrape out an existence here, and it left a trail of flame wherever it passed. John looked at her, and the effort and energy she was putting into this demonstration frightened him. Her concentration was total, and as she moved her hands the phoenix changed it's course in turn. After fully a minute their fury was spent, and Shayla collapsed beside John in exhaustion. Nanami caught her before she hit the ground, and as she looked out over the destruction Shayla had wrought, Nanami said gently, Um, I think you overdid it.
I should say so, said Afura from behind them. Nanami and John yelped in unison as her intrusion startled them. An ash-black path twenty meters across was clearly visible from their vantage point, and it twisted across the land like some half-crazed snake.
I should have known she would pull something like this. Poor Shayla, you can always count on her for a good show, that's for sure. I guess I simply can't trust her to be on her own for five minutes without nearly killing herself, she continued in her best scolding voice.
The acid in her tone was too much, and John spun around and yelled back, Hey, she was just trying to show me what the extent of her own abilities was! How can I base my own techniques on yours if I don't know what you're capable of?
His question caught Afura off guard; it made good sense in hindsight, so why hadn't she considered it before? But before she could respond, Nanami looked up from a half-conscious Shayla and added her own rebuke.
Yeah Afura, you know you're awful hard on her. I know the two of you are friends, but that's no reason to ridicule her in front of a student. I know my sensei would never criticize another teacher in front of the students no matter how much he deserved it.
Afura was stunned. They were right, and she knew it; there was a line between friendly jabbing and harsh condemnation, and she'd just crossed it. But what was more disconcerting was that this boy had called her on the carpet for it, and she stifled her instinct to yell back at the both of them for contradicting her that way. She was terribly conflicted between the need to be harsh in her discipline yet understanding of her charge, and she suddenly felt far too junior for what Moram had forced her into.
But the Headmistress had demonstrated a positive knack for knowing when to push her own students, and when to back off, and she hadn't assigned Afura as John's keeper by pulling her name from a hat. So instead of simply biting back, she calmed herself and came to grips with her own ambiguous feelings, and this time addressed John with respect.
You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so harsh. But the truth remains that her little demonstration was extremely dangerous, and no matter how well you think you're doing, you're not ready to try something like that, she said.
John's temporary flash of anger left him, and he nodded assent. Their eyes met, and he thought he sensed some sort of recognition on her part, an acknowledgment of his rectitude. He smiled at her, and said, well, I think I've had enough demonstrations' for one day. Whadda ya say we head back to the palace?
Afura shook her head slightly, then looked at Nanami, and asked, can you make it back to the city allright? There's one more thing I want to do today, but I think we'll be perfectly safe for now.
Nanami started to say something indignant, but just then Shayla sat up.
Ugh, I think I overdid it, she said weakly, and Nanami couldn't help but laugh. John and Afura joined her, and Shayla's face flushed as she turned away from them.
John squatted down next to her, put a hand on her shoulder, and between giggles said, I think you can consider me duly impressed.
His face was too mischievous to be angry at, so she smiled at him and said as she stood up, Yeah, well, don't you dare let me catch you copying my techniques! There's nothing that gets on my nerves more than a copycat!
Afura stepped up to her at that point. Can you take Nanami back to town for me? There's one more demonstration I want John to see.
Shayla nodded, and said, sure, no problem. We've got to stop somewhere for some food, though. I'm starving! As if to confirm this, her stomach growled audibly.
Nanami chuckled again. Sure, I know a great place just inside of town!
The two of them walked off together, chatting about this and that, and John turned to Afura. So what's this big thing I've just got to see? he asked her.
Her cheeks heated unexpectedly at his question. I uh, well, that is, she said weakly, and he turned up his scrutiny just a notch. What was she embarrassed about?
Put your arms around me, she managed to say perfectly seriously, and it was John's turn to be embarrassed.
Uh, can I ask why?
You wanted to see what we're capable of? Well, unless you wanted to try and follow me up on your own... she asked, and pointed a finger upwards.
John caught his breath for a second. Intellectually he knew that she could fly; as a Priestess of Wind, she'd damn well better be able to. But it was really something that had to be experienced to be believed, and despite his momentary hesitation John felt his adrenaline begin to rush as the seriousness of her proposal registered.
It took a second, but then his face lit up like a spotlight and his grin seemed to reach around from one ear to the other. He exclaimed and all the awkwardness between them disappeared as he put his arms around her waist and clamped his hands in front of her, and they took off into the clear blue sky together.

It had been all of eight days since John had returned from his mysterious ordeal at the Temple Home. To allow him, as well as the rest of the Great Priestesses to attend, Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony had been placed on hold' temporarily, which had given the poor Dean of the Royal History Academy a serious case of the hives. But Mr. Fujisawa had taken the opportunity to scale two peaks he'd had his eyes on ever since he'd come to El Hazard, and this time Miz and Mika had gone with him.
Nanami had placed her restaurant in the hands of her best manager, and while he was competent with the business side of things, he lacked the flair for cooking and the customer service that had made the original Shinonome Diner such a staple among the residents of Floristica. Unfortunately, Nanami was permanently on loan to Afura while John was being trained in the use of the lamps, although she took every chance she had to stop by and check up on things. And while it was a far cry from Tom's Diner back home, John admitted that this was probably the only earth food he'd be eating for the foreseeable future, so he'd learned to enjoy their frequent visits.
The three priestesses were totally engaged with his training. When Afura wasn't drilling him relentlessly on the history and technical aspects of their beliefs, Shayla was showing him the practical applications of her powers, and Qawoor was teaching him how to maintain spiritual balance and harmony with the elements he was learning about. If he wasn't meditating with her, blowing up bits of the landscape with Shayla, or reading along with Afura, he was sleeping or eating. And so very little was seen of him or Nanami around the palace while they were thus engaged.
Princess Rune seemed to have found something to do while the preparations for Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony were on hold; she was slowly but steadily working her way into the slot of Palace Majordomo. While it was literally unheard of for a member of the royal house to engage herself in such menial activities as washing bed sheets or cooking, Rune had been insistent that the army of servants she commanded allow her to participate in the day-to-day operations of her home. Whenever anyone asked her why she'd taken such an interest in homemaking, her eyes glazed over and she became unresponsive.
And while her sister was busy occupying herself, Fatora had begun to take a more active role in the external politics of the kingdom. As a child she had been briefed on the importance of diplomacy and maintaining the delicate relationships between the royal family and the system of independent steadings' which had flourished under Roshtarian rule for the past few millennia. But she'd always left the details to Rune, whom she assumed had been the more capable of the two of them.
That was the old Fatora, however, and while she'd been sitting at one of the seemingly endless formal occasions' which it was her curse to attend for the rest of measurable time, she'd had a sudden realization; the meetings were so dull because not one of the diplomats here were distinguishable from the others. Individuality and assertiveness Fatora had in reserve, and so she'd decided to solve this minor dilemma by taking over negotiations herself.
The first time she'd done this, the results had been, well, less than desirable. Not only had her interruption in the middle of the talks alienated her own diplomatic corps, her method of resolving the conflict, while effective, had caused the opposing sides to sign a treaty that they would never enter into conflict again so long as Fatora was the Royal House's chief negotiator.
Her initial success had spurred her on, despite the pointed hints every member of the corps and even her own sister had dropped. But Rune and Dr. Stalubaugh had come to the conclusion that if she was not to be stopped forcibly, the least they could do was school her on proper diplomatic protocol, and so he had been sent along with her when the dispute over mining rights had sprung up between the steadings of Caldan and Ohn.
All this explained why the only person available to help Makoto with his latest project was poor Alielle. Since he'd gotten back from the Temple with John, Londs had enlisted him for the task of figuring out how the car' could be used to enhance the capabilities of their Army. With the Eye of God temporarily forgotten, Makoto had thrown himself into this new challenge with relish, grateful for anything that would distract him from his failures there.
They sat in one of the drafting rooms that was used by the royal engineers to maintain the cruiser fleet, situated in the primary maintenance building attached to the Main Hanger. The room had been designated specifically for Makoto's use, and amongst all the blueprints and maintenance equipment was a high-powered scientific calculator set into a drafting table, and a full set of drawing and drafting tools. Londs had also installed a small cot and a teapot, since Makoto's propensity for working past exhaustion was well known.
He was chewing slowly on a pencil over his latest concept when Alielle walked into the room.
Master, it's time for lunch! she announced, but all the acknowledgment she got was a sort of grunt from his general direction. He was obviously concentrating hard, so she decided that a more forceful approach was necessary.
Alielle picked the lid off the lunch tray she'd brought, walked up to Makoto and hit him in the back of his oafish head, causing him to spit out his pencil.
I said it's time for lunch! You're never going to get anything done if you starve yourself, so put down that pencil and start eating right now! she yelled, and set the tray down on the small coffee table next to his cot.
Makoto turned around, rubbing the new lump forming slowly on his skull. Allright, allright, I'll eat, he said to her apologetically, and he walked over to the cot and sat down. On the tray was a freshly tossed salad, some fruit, and an assortment of cheeses and bread that looked like the Palace Chef himself had arranged it.
Wow, this looks great Alielle, thanks! he said, and she beamed sweetly at him as he dug into his food. Then she looked over at his drafting table curiously, and asked him, So Master Makoto, just what are you working on now?
He looked up from his salad, and said between mouthfuls, Well, I don't think we have the resources to produce a rotary engine, but with a few modifications, the block from John's car could be used as propulsion for a small aircraft. I found a few old diagrams of a sailcraft that the ancients used during the Holy Wars. If it works, we could build a fighter jet that wouldn't require a runway to take off or land!
Alielle's expression was confused. Fighter Jet? she asked.
Yeah. You see, in every war on earth since the turn of the century, small aircraft called fighter planes have played a very important role. They're small and incredibly fast, and can drop precision strikes on military targets without endangering anyone else's lives. But until now, Roshtaria hasn't had the means to make them practical. His enthusiasm was obvious, but Alielle had adopted the patient expression she used whenever he went off on one of his technical tangents, and she simply smiled and nodded as he continued.
But I think I've figured out how to increase the efficiency of his old engine and use it to power a single jet engine that could provide enough thrust to make a small one-main sail-cruiser the fastest flying craft that Roshtaria has ever seen! Look, I'll show you... He'd stopped eating totally now, and Alielle glanced pointedly at the remaining salad before she'd let him continue.
Makoto sat down obediently and ate the rest of his lunch in silence. The second his fork hit the empty plate though he was back up and at his desk, making very precise marks on his tablet and mumbling to himself quietly. Alielle sighed and turned to the book she'd been reading to pass the time, and the two passed the rest of the day in studied silence.

This, this is incredible! Londs exclaimed when Makoto finished with his presentation. It had been only five days since Londs had asked him to help with the designing of new weaponry, and already he had brought the final designs before the Royal Bureau of Weapons. And the craft he was proposing they build was nothing short of revolutionary to Roshtarian thinking.
The sail cruisers that were such an integral part of their travel network between steadings operated on well-understood principals. The sails' created a negative-gee force that allowed whatever was supported by it to float over the ground. But they had always been used in large-scale craft, and the sails themselves were incredibly delicate and difficult to maintain. Thus the Royal family, and a very few wealthy merchants were the only ones who could afford to use the cruisers with any regularity. Smaller, more personalized transports were not unheard of, but again they required a great deal of money to operate and thus were only used along highly profitable routes, such as the path to the Arliman Hot Springs, and then only in limited numbers.
The sails also provided very little foreword thrust, and their overland speed had been limited to no more than 120 kph, at most. And the energy requirements for something the size of a royal cruiser were tremendous, to say the least.
But the craft Makoto had designed was a breed removed from the lumbering Caravans. By trimming all of the deck space from a traditional cruiser, reducing the size of it's sails by a factor of two, and leaving on just enough fuel bunkerage for a limited endurance of no more than five hours' flight time, he'd managed to create something not much bigger than an F-14 fighter.
The teardrop-shaped pilot's pod was just big enough to squeeze someone into, and the controls were familiar enough to any cruiser pilot, with one tactile-interface pad and a readout display. The craft was capable of flight in it's own right, but would have been limited in altitude and speed where it not for the internal combustion engine' that Makoto had built into it.
While the notion of shifting gears in an airplane seemed downright backwards to him, for the Roshtarians it was simply part and parcel of adapting a new technology to their own framework. The single jet engine, with the intake on the top of the pilot's cockpit bubble, would provide enough foreword thrust for the craft to reach upwards of 400-550 kph, and enough lift for the sails to provide it with more than one hundred times a normal cruisers' maximum altitude. Of course, they were still dreadfully limited when compared to the fighters Makoto was basing his design on, and their reliance on good atmospheric conditions limited their flight ceiling considerably, but by and large they were far more capable than anything the Air Corps had at it's command, and he was already working on improving the design.
Well, there's actually just one slight problem with it, Makoto responded, and Londs looked at him questioningly.
Most of the parts we need for the new design already exist, it's just a matter of modifying them correctly. But the engine is another story. You don't have anything else like it in all your kingdom, and it's going to take time to build them from scratch. I don't really know much about them, besides, so you're going to have to rely on John to teach you how to build them.
Much to his surprise, Londs merely nodded. We anticipated that whatever else came from it, this engine would have to be replicated, and I've had my engineers laying out the necessary equipment for the past several weeks. But you are correct that we cannot even remove it, much less reengineer it. We will have to have John's assistance. Makoto, his tone became much more serious and, Makoto thought, tinged with the just the slightest hint of respect, on behalf of her majesty Rune Venus, and all the people of Roshtaria, I thank you for what you have accomplished. This craft is nothing less than a revolution, and I have total confidence that you will succeed in building it for us.
Makoto blushed at the compliment, but then he extended his hand to Londs, and the much larger man accepted it gracefully.
Aww, don't mention it. It was the least I could do while I was here, said Makoto. For the prototype at least, I think we can use the actual engine from John's Mustang. He'll have to help us remove it, of course, but after that there's another issue.
What is that? asked Londs.
Makoto looked back at Alielle, who had been standing behind him this whole time with stacks of presentation materials.
We're gonna need a test pilot.

****


It had been a long day.
Diva and Jinnai were relaxing in the ready room just behind the thrones they ruled the Bugrom Empire from. He had returned from his inspection tour of their tunnel network with some startling news, and a rather unexpected visitor. Diva knew very well that the Phantom Tribe had no respect for her armies, but that was fine, since she had no respect for their weak and fledgling nation either. She had been ready to turn the wraith' away immediately, but Jinnai had stopped her from dismissing him out of hand.
Which, she admitted, was probably wiser in the long run. While she would never care to admit it, her empire was still relatively weak itself, and any strategic alliances that were made at this point could only be beneficial. But her skepticism for the Tribe's motives was plain on her face as she sighed and addressed her general.
I'm still not sure this is a good idea, Katsuhiko. We can't be sure that they won't turn around on our eve of victory and backstab us. I don't think I'm willing to take that risk.
Look, Diva, said Jinnai, if we don't crush Roshtaria completely, they will surely destroy us. That blasted Mizuhara would never pass up the chance to ensure that my superiority could never get in his way again. And while I would never suggest that the Bugrom Empire wasn't capable of crushing them, I like our chances better with the Phantom Tribe's abilities on our side. Just think of what we could accomplish if the enemy couldn't even see our troops when we're right in front of their ugly faces!
Diva threw her mug of tea right at his feet, and he yelped in alarm as she put as much authority into her voice as she could muster. It won't matter if we win or not if we're not even there to enjoy our victory. Are you so certain of your ability to control these allies'? Their messenger got through our strongest fortifications with ease; what makes you think that they wouldn't do that again to dispatch us?
Her fury at his shortsightedness was real, but brief, and when he responded his voice wore that smug self-assurance it always seemed to.
Well then, my dear, we'll just have to take out an insurance policy, won't we? And I think there's one sitting just across the room.
His eyes turned meaningfully towards the small cell' on the other side of the throne room, where Kiro was being kept under constant guard until there was a message to send back to the Phantom Tribe, and his smile was ugly.

****


You want to WHAT?
Their plan had made perfect sense to John. Until the point, that is, where he had detailed the necessity of taking his beautiful car apart bit by bit. And not just dismantling her, but tearing her very heart right out, the meticulously detailed 289 V8 he and his father had rebuilt to factory specs. Even the spark plug wires were stock, for heavens sake, and Makoto wanted to hook up a completely different electrical system to it!
To his credit Makoto had proposed this, this Frankenstein-like operation with a straight face, so he obviously didn't know how much it meant to John. Makoto had never driven, much less owned a car of his own before he was thrown into El Hazard, and John was willing to forgive him for this fact.
Do you even realize how much effort I put into getting that engine compartment to look as spotless as it is? I've had to keep those damned Royal Security' engineers from taking her apart behind my back ever since I got here, and now you want me to help you gut her? No Way! I'll help you draw up the plans for your own version of that engine, but removing it is out of the question. John crossed his arms and nodded, and Makoto hid a sigh.
The two of them were standing in one of the innumerable gardens that circled the palace walls, and Nanami was sitting by a fountain swirling her hand in the waters distractedly. Whenever the boys talked shop she tended to tune it out, and Makoto felt a pang of sympathy for her situation. It couldn't be easy to sit idly by and wait for disaster -in the form of a Phantom Tribe assassin- to strike, which was about the only time her abilities would be useful. And while he could understand the Headmistress's concerns, he also couldn't help but feel that she was overreacting just a bit. After all, the Tribe hadn't been heard from once since their defeat at the Eye of God. What made her so sure that they'd show up after all this time just to steal away one teenage boy?
But we need to experiment with a new fuel mixture, to make sure we can even run it once the gas in your tank runs out. At this comment John shot him a very nasty look indeed, and he rushed to continue before he could turn that look into a very nasty insult.
Please, John, they're desperate for anything they can use to make sure the Bugrom don't conquer their kingdom. You may not understand this very well, since the United States never lost a war. But these people nearly lost everything, and we've got to do everything we can to make sure it doesn't happen again! You just have to let us do this!
John's expression of defiance broke slightly at the obvious depth of feeling in Makoto's pleas. He put his hands into his pockets - the pockets of the special pants he'd had made that were exactly the same as his others - and sighed in resignation.
Yeah, I guess you're right, he said, and Makoto's eyes lit up, but there's no way you guys are doing a single thing without my supervision! Besides, I know all the tools we're gonna need, and we'd better get started finding suitable replacements.
Makoto smiled and nodded a thanks, then looked over to the fountain. Hey, Nanami, we've got to go down to the East Gallery. Was there anything you wanted to do while we were here?
She got up slowly and walked over to them. No, that's okay. Thanks for asking, though. There's really nothing I can do for the restaraunt while I'm stuck here. Her voice carried a distinctly sour note in in, and John walked up and put hand on her shoulder.
Look, I know there are a million other things you'd rather be doing than playing babysitter to me, he began, but I really appreciate it. I don't know how much of a danger the Phantom Tribe' is, but I guess until I get good enough with this thing- he lifted the hand which had his lamp, which he had promised never to remove until this threat was over -I need all the help I can get. Oh, wait a minute...
He looked up at nothing in particular, obviously thinking deeply about something, and almost a full minute passed before Nanami broke his concentration.
WELL? What is it? she demanded.
he looked surprised that he'd been spoken to, I was just thinking, why couldn't a Priestess of Light watch out for assassins?
Makoto's interest was piqued at this revelation. I didn't know there were more than the three Muldoon Priestesses. What do all of them do?
John gulped, and a horrified expression crossed his face. He'd just inadvertantly spilled one of the biggest secrets of the entire Seminary. All the literature on the Holy Wars that existed outside of the Temple contained a very carefully edited version of the Temple's involvment in them. The official line was that there were Three Priestesses, one for each of the common elements, and they were there for the public to believe in. They were the ones who tended the temple on Mt. Muldoon, the only holy site accessible to the common folk, and as far as the public had ever known they were the only three to come from the Seminary.
The reasoning behind this was easy enough to understand; the less the public knew, the more likely they were to leave the rest of the Priestesses alone. There was a tragic history in the Temple lore of power sought or hated by the wrong people, and the incredbile secrets they harbored could not be allowed to fall into the hands of those who would use these powers for evil. The more modern example of Jinnai or the Phantom Tribe came readily to mind, but of the two the only ones to even learn of the Temple's true role in the history of Roshtaria was the Tribe. It was they who had attempted to break down the walls of the Temple in search of their secrets, and it was still they whom the Seminary feared would attempt the same thing again.
But in order to keep this as tight a secret as possible, John had sworn never to reveal the fact that there were other Priestesses to anyone. If that knowledge became public, then the Tribe's spies would pick up on it too easily, and the less they knew, the better.
The reason that John had been given the two stones of Light and Earth was easily explainable; everyone knew he was from earth, and that meant that he had powers above and beyond anyone else. But he'd just slipped on a secret of immense importance, and his expression was severe as he grabbed each of his friends by the arm and walked them over to a dimly-lit corner of the courtyard.
Now listen, he said to them in hushed and urget tones, no one outside the Temple knows that there's more to it than the three Muldoon Priestesses. That's to remain a secret; don't even let the three of them know that you know. It's vitally important that you keep your mouths shut on this one. Understand?
Both their eyes were wide with curiosity and apprehension. He was obviously deadly serious, but just as Nanami opened her mouth to speak he said, So, let's get going, huh? I wanna turn in early tonight, and smiled politely as he walked away.