Hakkai raised his hand to his eyes, but even when he shielded them from the tearing wind he could see next to nothing. He thought he could hear Hakuryuu's squeaking, but then again it might have only been the wind whistling through the high reaches. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have had Hakuryuu shift--the jeep couldn't handle the steep slopes or this much snow, but his headlights would be a beacon, and they could have made some shelter by drawing a tarp over the frame. And Hakuryuu didn't get nearly as cold when he was a vehicle.

Too late now, at least until he found them. "Goku!" he called against the wind. "Hakuryuu!"

"Over here!" And that he did not imagine. The relief warmed him like fire, and he slogged forward--the snow was well past his knees--until he reached a blur of brown and orange, camouflaged by a coat of snow.

"Goku," he admonished, crouching so he was speaking into his friend's ear, "don't run off again!"

"But I saw it," Goku said. "I think. Here."

He pushed into his hands what Hakkai first thought was a heap of snow, then realized was actually a bundle of white dragon. Hakuryuu chirped piteously as Hakkai clucked his tongue and stowed him away under his jacket and shirt. The dragon was icy, nestling against his stomach, and he winced. Hakuryuu would not be transforming anytime soon, at least until he had warmed up.

"Serves you right," Hakkai murmured, not meaning it, but the dragon usually was more cautious. He looked to his other companion, of whom that could never be expected. "Goku, where did you see the cave?"

Goku frowned. "Don't know. I swear it was right here."

"The snow's disorienting. We might be close. But we have to wait here for Sanzo and Gojyo, they're right behind me--Goku!"

Goku was pushing ahead into the drifts, heedless of Hakkai's warning. "It's gotta be around here," he shouted back over his shoulder. "I saw it!" The mountainside was steeper here, and Goku struggled to climb higher. He pulled himself up the face of a boulder so sheer it had barely collected any snow, used the added height to peer around. Hakkai wondered if perhaps he could see better--long practice, those centuries in the mountain, when the blizzards hid him from all the world...

Then he realized that he could still see Goku above him--the snow must be letting up, or they were in the eye of the storm; the flakes were smaller and fewer and he could make out the dim shape of trees around them. Hakkai looked behind him, but glimpsed no sign of brilliant red hair. But they could be just out of sight. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, "Sanzo! Gojyo!"

"Sanzooo!" Goku added to his call, "We're her--uwa~AHH!"

The wind, which had died a little, returned with a vengeance, so strong that Hakkai stumbled, and Goku, right in its path, tripped, and fell forwards.

Off the rock, his arms windmilling. Hakkai lunged to catch him, and then Goku slammed into his chest and knocked them both down. The snowdrifts were soft, but not enough to stop their momentum on so steep a climb. Tangled together, they rolled down the incline, literally head over heels. Hakuryuu wailed, and it flashed through Hakkai's thoughts that this was a much faster form of locomotion, if only it weren't in the wrong direction. Hopefully they wouldn't bowl over Sanzo and Gojyo, who would not appreciate losing this much distance--

They stopped with a thud, in a snowbank concealing an outcropping of stone. Hakkai struggled to sit up, brushing away the snow gathered on his face. His cheeks were too numb to feel the freeze. Against his belly Hakuryuu gave a soft "kyuu", but it was reassuring, not a cry of pain.

Goku was laying across his legs, preventing him from standing. Reaching out, gingerly until he verified he felt no injury beyond the expected bruising, he nudged the other youkai's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Goku said nothing. Hakkai shook him, gently, and the boy's tousled brown head lolled back, so that Hakkai saw the blood on his temple, stark red against the white snow.

* * *

Sanzo muttered something, but Gojyo could barely hear his voice, much less the words. "What?" he shouted.

The monk looked back at him. "We should've reached them by now!"

And yet there was no sign of youkai or dragon. "Maybe we passed them?"

Sanzo stopped, as did Gojyo, an instant before they collided. The monk had stuck a purple wool hat over his blond hair; now, with his robes layered with ice crystals, it was the only color on him. His usually pale skin was now easily as white as the snow; it occurred to Gojyo that this might not be a good thing, however prettily it brought out his eyes. Humans were more sensitive to climate than youkai, generally. But it was Sanzo who was leading the way, obstinately pushing through the snow to...where? Where the hell were they going, anyway?

"This is your fault," Gojyo said, angrily, and pleased that he spat it out before his teeth could chatter. "If we'd gone around--"

"Would you prefer we turned back now?" Sanzo shot back. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and he was hunched against the wind.

"You got a better idea?"

"Fine, then, let's go!"

"What about Hakkai and Goku?"

"We'll leave them a note! I'm sure they'll find it easily!"

Neither moved. The gale howled, lashing them with ice. Sanzo shifted, pushing his arms deeper into his sleeves. "Come on," he said, just loudly enough to be heard. "They're probably right ahead."

"If they're not?"

Sanzo smiled; at least, Gojyo thought that was why his lips contorted. "My fault, isn't it? So, not your problem."

"To hell it's not--" But Sanzo had turned, was plowing forward up the slope. "Goddamn monk," Gojyo snarled, and the heat of anger gave him the strength to follow.

But that furnace went cold, too quickly. He was stumbling in the snow, and only belatedly realized the pace had become easier. "Oi, Sanzo!"

"What?"

"Are we going the right way?"

"The hell should I know?" He didn't even sound angry, and Gojyo squinted at him through the whirling flakes. Was he even paler?

"We're not going uphill anymore."

Sanzo looked down, as if he could even see his sandals, buried as they were in two feet of snow. But the ground here was level. "We're not."

"Are we at the pass?"

"...doubt it."

"Must be a ledge or something." He took a step forward.

And found his boot sliding out from under him, sending him to the ground with a crash that sounded even through the snow.

"Gojyo!" A flurry of robes and ice, and Sanzo loomed over him.

"Ch'. Snow broke my fall." Gojyo struggled up, only to have his feet slip again. This time he wobbled, but caught himself before he tripped.

"Stupid kappa. Don't tell me you're drunk!"

"You're the only one who brought beer!" Gojyo snapped back. "This rock is fuckin' slippery!" He pounded it with his boot.

There was a booming sound, a weird echo of his thump, and then the crack of a gunshot. Gojyo stared, but Sanzo's hands were empty, no revolver in sight.

"Who's shooting?"

Sanzo's eyes widened. "Shit," he said. "Gojyo, this isn't rock--"

Another crack sounded, a great hollow boom, too big to be a gun, too high to be a cannon, and then, without further warning, the ice under his feet fractured. Gojyo had a split second to register that Sanzo's face had lost its final hint of color, and then he was plunging down into water as cold as the snow and much, much darker.

to be continued...

By popular vote Sanzo will be called a monk for the rest of this story. Still on the fence about which I like better. Thanks for the reviews, they're the ink that keeps a writer's pen flowing, or the juice that powers her computer...anyway, they keep me muse going, and this story will be going on, too--soon!