The sun shining in his face woke Zoro. He jerked up with a start, his body stiff from sitting on the cold stone. Rubbing his arms to work circulation back into the muscles, numbed by the chill night, he climbed through the window back inside.

Sanji was gone.

Zoro didn't even remember falling asleep. It was only a little after sunrise, but yesterday they had come before dawn, and how the hell had he slept through it? The bastard could have at least said something, when they came--

--if he had been awake at all, when they took him--

He came across priests and acolytes as he descended the tower, but none were free to answer any questions. In fact most of them, upon spotting him, apparently recalled business elsewhere, for several so urgent that they had to run, tripping over their robes. Those few who didn't hurry off froze in their tracks like deer in a poacher's lantern at his approach, meeting his queries with dumb bewilderment.

One acolyte looked young enough, and nervous enough, that Zoro grabbed his skinny arm, gave him a shake to knock him out of that mute daze. "Hey," he said, "you know that Seven Deaths thing? Where's it going on?"

The boy swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. "I--I don't--" His eyes dropped from Zoro's face, landed square on his swords and shot up again, white showing all the way around the hazel irises. "--Can't tell!" he squeaked. "I can't, please don't--"

Zoro let him go, a bit surprised to see the acolyte rub his arm as he shrank back. He hadn't been gripping that hard. He didn't think. "Sorry."

The acolyte shook his head. "No, no, I'm sorry--really, I just--"

"I won't interfere," Zoro said. "I swear."

"I can't--"

"At least tell me how long this is going to take."

"I can't say, sir," quavered the kid. "I mean--"

"No one can," said a quiet alto behind them. Zoro looked back, saw the blonde acolyte.

Disregarding her petrified brethren, she held out a tray with two rice balls to Zoro. "Here, sir. I was assigned to the kitchen this morning, and noticed you hadn't found it yet for your breakfast."

Zoro ignored the offer. "What'd you mean, no one?"

"The deaths of the goddess are different for every man," she explained. The boy took advantage of her distraction to flee down the corridor; Zoro didn't bother trying to stop him, and the other acolyte didn't look like she was looking for an opening to follow suit. "More I can't say."

"But they aren't real anyway. What your damn goddess does is just part of the ceremony, it was just a trick--"

"The goddess is real," and a hint of real strength showed beneath the softness, steel under plush.

"I don't know what the hell she is," Zoro said. "Real, hoax, I don't care, but she showed my friend something that wasn't. A damn illusion."

"The moon goddess has granted me visions before," the blonde woman told him, "and they were all true, or became that way."

"If you say so, but this goddess lied to him, and I want to know what kind of bullshit she's putting him through now."

"As attendant, you're not permitted--"

"Then screw it, I'll quit being attendant. Where are they?"

"Only the attendant and the devout can approach the sinner, once he is the goddess's." Her eyes, watching him, softened in the morning sunlight. "But your friend is a good man, and strong. I saw how in the ceremonies before--"

"Yeah, you've all been watching, haven't you? Not much else to do for fun around here, huh," Zoro growled. "I'm not going to do anything, I gave my word. I just want see it for myself. Where'd you take him?"

"You aren't allowed--"

"I don't care."

"I can't tell you, sir."

Zoro closed his fingers into a fist; deliberately, emphatically, drew it back and drove it into the wall beside them. He heard the stone crack, waited for it to settle before asking, quietly, "Where."

She stared at the chips of granite flaking down, and the tray clattered at her feet, rice balls rolling off. She made no move to pick them up, watching him with the stillness of a mouse waiting for a hawk to dive. But she didn't answer, and for all the fear in her eyes, the resolution was greater. Almost as stubborn as the damn cook, this woman. He sighed. "Fine. Forget it."

As he turned and walked away, he could almost feel her gather herself, heard her inhale enough air to ask, "Where are you--"

"I'll find the place myself."

"Sir, you can't--" She took a couple steps toward him, but stopped in her tracks when he stopped.

"I promised I wouldn't mess with your ceremonies. Not that I'd just do nothing. You won't even tell me what the hell you're doing to him." Without looking back, he dropped his hand to his katana hilts. "Please don't get in my way."

What she whispered might have been a denial, or agreement, or one of those meaningless apologies he had heard too many of lately. It was too soft to make out over the tempo of his boots against the stone floor as he strode away. She didn't follow.

There were people as always in the main courtyard with the fountain, but no tell-tale gathering of priests, no sign of the high priest or the little priestess or Sanji. A cluster of robed townspeople scattered out of his way like startled pigeons as he cut across the circle, a couple narrowly missing falling into the fountain's basin. Did any of them know about the ceremony? Probably not enough--only the devout and the attendant could see him now, she had said.

The temple was too damn big. Three towers, and Sanji could be in any of them. Without an idea what they actually were doing, he didn't even know what to look for. A big room, a small one--were there any locked rooms in this place? He had hardly seen any doors at all, just open doorways and silk screens. Wouldn't need so much as a single sword to get through one of them.

Not that it mattered; Sanji wouldn't run even if he did break one down. They might as well have him in an iron cage. Zoro would prefer they did, for that matter; he knew how to handle that.

Sixth death; second death of the goddess, second to last of the ceremony. The little priestess would be there for it. Find her and he would find Sanji. What had the boy last night said? That the priestess spoke with the goddess all the time--usually, anyway, when the deified bitch wasn't sulking. And those conversations were at the fountain, or in her room. The priestess's private chambers--he doubted, however, that any of the people around the temple would be eager to tell him where that was. But she had come to their room yesterday, by lying about going to her own room. Probably the same tower, then. There were other passageways off the stairs to their room, and the flight continued up to higher levels.

After a not entirely intentional detour through the dining halls, the foyer of the main entrance, and a small atrium filled with vine-covered statues, Zoro located the spiraling stone steps which were becoming familiar. He climbed now only as high as the second floor, brushed past two priests who lost all inclination to block his way when he drew a couple centimeters of one katana, and shoved aside the screen with enough force that the frame jumped its tracks and crashed to the floor. But the room behind was nothing more than sleeping quarters, two rows of empty couches with neatly made bedding, arranged around the same central column that rose through their own chamber.

The next room above was the same, but there was a gap in the second row of couches, probably where their couch had been taken from. On the next flight, the corridor branching off the stairs curved around the tower, but pacing its circumference he eventually found himself back where he started, having encountered no turns or any entryway. He walked it a second time, running his hand along the inner stone wall, but it was smooth all the way around, the granite blocks so neatly placed he couldn't have wedged the tip of a blade between them.

Mounting the stairs once more, he found himself at their own chamber, still empty, no sign of his crewmate. He debated waiting; they had brought Sanji back here every time before--

--if there would be anything to bring back, this time. 'The last day's when death becomes real.'

He left before he put his fist through one of the windows, climbed more stairs. Above their chamber was another empty, entryless corridor, which he again circled twice and found no sign of anything along the walls but carved and painted symbols. He was wondering if he should look more closely when he heard something above him. Voices, perhaps.

He ran up the stone steps, only to find they ended abruptly, at a door, a true door of heavy oak, hinged to the stone frame with iron pegs. When he put his hand to it, it swung open, counterweights levering its mass aside.

There were no voices now that he could hear, just the whistling of wind. He climbed the ladder behind the door, pushed up a slanted wooden panel and found himself on the tower's roof. Tiered clay tiles rose above him in a broad cone, the peak twice as high as his head. There was no space here for any ceremony, but Zoro climbed out onto the closest rank of tiles, went around the pinnacle to look at the other two towers, their points level with this one. He could see nothing, however, all the glass windows reflecting back the opaque cloudy sky, a match to the gray stone of the towers. The wind blew between the trio of manmade peaks, carrying the scent of pines and the bite of cold from the snowy mountains beyond the city.

He returned to the ladder and had begun to descend when he heard a muffled thud. The door had slammed closed. Releasing the rungs, Zoro dropped to the floor and yanked at the handle. The door didn't budge. He tried pushing it instead, but somehow it was bolted shut, though when he listened he heard no footsteps, no sign of anyone there to have closed it.

"Hey!" he shouted anyway, banging his fist against the wood. "Let me out of here!"

No one answered. "I thought I wasn't a prisoner," Zoro yelled, hammering the thick boards. "Open this!"

He hadn't seen anyone on the final stairs, no one following him, that he had perceived, and it would be a rare man who could move so quietly he wouldn't have noticed. Maybe they wanted to keep him from that ceremony, but no one had done anything to trick him into coming up here.

No, you trapped yourself fine all on your own. Stupid, to let down his guard, just because they were all so damn polite. "Let me out!"

Still there was nothing. The door was thick and solid, not giving the slightest when he slammed his shoulder against it. No good kicking it; if Sanji were here, perhaps, instead of wherever the hell they had actually brought him...

Zoro pounded the wood again, listened to the heavy thud. He pulled his third katana, grimaced as he raised it. Swords weren't axes; this could damage that master blade. It was the lightest of his three, but he didn't trust the cursed sword to the task, and wouldn't so demean the white katana.

Space was limited, and he angled the blow carefully to get the maximum power. Locking his arms rigid to match the force of an axe's weight, he brought down the sword, chopping into the wood, only to have the steel blade clang against metal with a crash that set his head ringing. Iron bolts ran through the breadth and height of the door. No wonder it was so damn heavy. Without the room for a complete swing he couldn't slice the metal; in an hour or two he might hack through it, but he didn't have the time. Too damn weak.

He climbed back up the ladder, studied the situation more closely. The tower's stone walls were too sheer to make climbing feasible. If they hadn't trusted Sanji's word, wanted to keep him by force, this might have done it--up here on the roof, the open sky above. It had been sunny earlier, but clouds had rolled in off the autumn sea. With the sun hidden somewhere behind that gray expanse, the wind was chill enough to raise gooseflesh on his bare arms. He shouted into it, but there was no way to tell if anyone could hear him through the stone walls, and the towers were too widely spaced to give back an echo.

He debated his other options. Climbing would be difficult, but if he jumped, he might be able to catch one of the balconies on the way down. Or he could just knock off a few of the clay tiles and see if anyone noticed them crashing to the ground. If they landed on someone's head it would be a hard signal to miss, but he supposed it might not be taken well. Best to check first. Making sure the tiles under his feet were secure, Zoro carefully sidled down to the edge of the roof. There was no rail, only a low stone ridge that he set the toes of his boots against and leaned out to look down.

There were people below, more than he would have expected, blue and gold robes fluttering like leaves at the tower's base. They were milling around in an agitated way, scurrying back and forth. Maybe they were looking for him. "Hey!" he shouted down to them, "up here!" But they were too distant for him to be able to tell if he had been noticed. "Look up, idiots!" he bellowed. If it wasn't him they were searching for...

"--Sir?"

Zoro paused, holding his breath to listen. Another tentative knock sounded. "Uh, sir, are you on the roof?"

"Yes!" Idiot. He recognized the muffled voice as the acolyte he had accosted earlier. Scrambling up the tiles, he almost slipped, caught the trapdoor before he fell and threw it aside to drop down the ladder.

The kid on the other side of the door sounded confused. "But how did you bolt it from the inside?"

"I don't know, the wind shut it." Or something. Someone. Maybe. He didn't think this guy would have had the guts for it, anyway. "Can you open it? I won't get in the way of the damn ceremony, I swear--"

"I believe you, sir. Besides, you couldn't, since it's already--"

"Just open it!"

The bolts scraped and squealed, and Zoro jumped back as the door swung open, narrowly missing slamming him into the wall. The acolyte in the corridor beyond blinked at him nervously. "None of the ceremonies take place on the roof, sir, but your friend might be back in his chamber by now--"

Shoving past him, almost knocking the kid down, Zoro spiraled down the stairs, taking the steps four at a time, faster than he could fall. When he reached the corridor he covered its length in a few long strides, wrenched the screen aside.

The chamber was empty; the acolyte had been wrong, he thought, and then he looked outside.

Zoro made it onto the balcony without actually knowing if he had used the door or a window or just gone straight through the wall. Sanji was there already, the black lines of his suit in stark contrast to the clouds' dreary barren grays, and the wind whipping his hair into his closed eyes. His expression under the wild blond strands was empty, impassive, lips slightly parted, frozen in the instant before speech, as if he had forgotten what words he had intended. Zoro started to call his name, stopped with his own mouth open, not knowing if he dared do anything that might start time again.

The damn cook was on the balcony's edge, on the wrong side of the railing, with his heels only just on the ledge and his arms behind him, fingers hooked over the balustrade as he leaned out into that bleak sky.

to be continued...

Not much to say here, except I'm glad we're all enjoying ourselves (even if certain chars are not...) - more to come, and thanks again for the great reviews!