Sunday 26/9/2060, Location: 32.67595, 128.87782, Time 02:52

Back over open water, they flew on quietly through the clear night air. Ahead, there was a faint glow on the horizon, the Japanese mainland being a good ninety kilometres away, beyond the curvature of the earth, but the light pollution from a major city was strong enough to colour the atmosphere. Marius let his systems communicate with the Japanese air traffic control computers, negotiating a flight path towards the airport and assigning him a corridor of cleared space. A human controller might have been curious about the delay over Fukue Island, but the automated systems didn't seem to care too much – he had a valid flight plan, and that was enough.

Slowly the sky brightened and office blocks, residential towers, billboards and street lights crept into view over the horizon, a mass of lights and movements even at this time of the morning. The city appeared in a thin band at the horizon and Marius checked the map, unsure why it appeared to be so narrow – then realising that there was a low series of hills close to the sea that cut off the view of much of the city at this point, so he was seeing only a thin slice of the metropolis.

Aswon was sat strapped into his seat, breathing slowly and practicing his breath control when he felt a faint stab of anxiety in his gut, a faint feeling of unease and uncertainty. He tried to ignore it at first, but the feeling grew stronger and stronger as they flew on. Opening his eyes he stared across the cabin at Shimazu who was frowning and had his hand clenched around the pommel of his sword, eyes flicking around the cabin restlessly.

"You feel it, too?"

"Yes Aswon. Not sure what though."

"Whatever it is, I don't like it."

"What are you two on about?" Kai asked, looking between them.

"You can't feel it? A disquiet? Like something is wrong?"

"Oh that? I thought I had gas…"

"No, something is definitely wrong. Hey, Tads?" Aswon called over to Tads, but it appeared that she'd managed to fall asleep, her head lolling to one side as the straps held her upright in her seat. "Tads? TADS!"

"Murph? What?"

"Something feels wrong…" Aswon saw the frown on her face appear as she felt the weird sensation ripple over her as well. "Any ideas?"

"No. It doesn't feel like a direct magical attack, but I'm going to try shielding us. Has anyone checked the outside view?"

"I'll do it." Shimazu loosened his restraints and leant forward to grab the headset so he could have a look outside the craft, pulling the optical feed down over his head and then glancing out of the viewing prism to see what lay ahead.

Aswon hit the seatbelt release and was stood ready with his spear a split-second after their cries rang out. Tads had recoiled, her head striking the fuselage behind her that intensified the look of pain that washed over her. A tiny trickle of blood had spurted from her nose, normally a sign of magical drain from casting a spell and trying to channel too much mana too quickly. Shimazu had pulled his head back as if something had been clawing at his face, and his body gave a shudder – and a moment later a similar trickle of blood oozed down his face from under the viewing goggles. Certainly he wasn't casting any spells, which meant that something was seriously wrong!

"I tried to wrap us up in a shield, but the mana here… it's wrong. Tortured. And I can feel the spirits are really unhappy. They want to leave, to be gone from this place. It's…. evil somehow."

"Whatever it is, we're headed straight for it. Outside there's black pillars of corrupted mana, spiralling into the sky. It's… bad. Going to get much worse. I have a horrible feeling I know where we are." Shimazu had taken off the headset and punched up the general frequency on his comms set. "Guys, where are we? I mean what city are we flying over?"

"We are just approaching the western edges of Nagasaki. Why?"

"That explains it. We're being affected back here."

"Affected?" Marius checked over his sensors, confirming things visually as well as electronically. "All appears fine here. What is the issue?"

"I'm not sure it's going to show up on technological sensors. But astral space is nasty and getting worse." Shimazu shook his head as if trying to clear away buzzing flies, making a face as he was unable to shake off the feelings that grew stronger and stronger with every passing moment.

"Nagasaki? Oh crap. Vadim – stay out of astral space! Don't try and cast any spells!" Aswon warned. "Is this a place with a horrible history or something?"

"Yes. The details are unclear – it all happened a long time before the Crash. But there was some kind of war, and they dropped a nuclear bomb here. Killed a hundred thousand people in a single attack. I think it was the last big attack of the war, and after that the Japanese surrendered as they couldn't stop the other side from doing the same thing over and over again to their other cities. But there's two cities in Japan where they dropped nukes, and they're both the same. Mana so badly warped that you can't do magic, and it can be painful just to be there if you have talent."

"Do we need to climb higher? I think I can get clearance to rise a few flight levels?"

"No, that won't help. It's like a funnel rising up from the city… and I don't think we can get above it. We just have to avoid using magic, or interacting astrally while we're over here. Just tell me we're not going over Hiroshima either?"

"Negative. That city is well to the north of us, and away from our flight plan. Is that the same there?"

"Yes. And some parts to the east of Tokyo too. I remember they were the awful jobs we had to go on sometimes. Businessmen would arrange to go to somewhere like this if they feared or distrusted magic, to make it hard to eavesdrop on them or to ensure magical security – because it was so hard or dangerous to cast a spell there. But it made the job of bodyguards like myself much more difficult too, and really unpleasant."

"I can feel the ward around the tilt-wing being attacked now – it's like something is trying to eat it. It's down to half strength, at best. Please tell me there's not much more to go?" Tads called out, shuddering as she tried to feel the effects on the ward while limiting her exposure to astral space.

"We are over the centre of the city, and heading out now, another ninety kilometres to the airport. But according to the maps, there is a large national park coming up soon that we will be overflying."

"That will help hopefully – natural environment should have helped the manasphere recover more than the city. Just for your reference, Marius, what we found here we'll also find at other places around the world that might look fine physically, but have an awful effect on the astral realm. There are a couple of places in Russia where rocks from the sky have burnt away the land and created massive destruction, that are just like this… I think there was one we flew past as well on the lake in Russia, where Yakut was trying to take down the dam."

"I seem to remember another place that was discussed a while back, too." Aswon scratched his head as he tried to remember the details. "Fukoshima, I think it was. Another pre-crash disaster, but this one was in peacetime. But some kind of accident caused an explosion at a nuclear power plant, and that irradiated a whole bunch of a city and the countryside. Things like that can pollute the land for hundreds of years, and that leaves a lasting taint on the astral space that coincides. We may have to start working with Hunter when we're planning routes to make sure that when we fly over somewhere it's fine astrally as well as physically…"

The next fifteen minutes passed without further incident, Marius following the approach route and glide path down towards Kumamoto airport. After a quick conversation, he selected one of the pre-programmed skins present in the computer, and watched the readouts as the sensors reported the change in skin colour of his craft and the sprouting of Mitsuhama logos onto the tail, along with a false registry number.

As he was passed over from regional control to the local tower he noticed a distinct shift in the accent of the controller – from a smooth English that was clearly spoke as well as their first language to something much more heavily accented. Still, it was easy enough to understand the instruction – land on runway zero-seven, rollout to taxiway Whisky, then follow Quebec and Romeo to the light craft hanger. His landing was flawless, touching down perfectly on the centre line and making good use of the runway, needing only eighteen hundred of the thirty-two hundred metre long runway but still feeling like luxury after some of the places he'd had to set down in recently.

He turned right off the runway at the Whisky marker and followed the taxiway down towards the hanger marked, noting a few lights on and some small aircraft present. He trundled along towards the hanger, pulling round into a large area marked off with yellow paint and then started the power-down sequence on the engines. Hunter turned at some movement over by the hanger, watching a roller shutter door rise up and a small cart appear, turning to head in their direction.

"Kai, we've got airport staff inbound. Time for you to go do your stuff… I'm staying in here!"

"Don't worry, Hunter, Shimazu and I will handle this. Probably best if they don't see or meet anyone else." Kai nodded to Shimazu, and headed out of the side door, his features subtly shifting to present a more 'Japanese' visage that should meet the expectations of the locals. By the time they'd closed the door behind them and ducked under the aircraft to face the hanger, the roller door had opened again and another vehicle had emerged – this one a small tow truck with a fuel bowser slung behind it. It, too, was headed their way, following the first vehicle which was just pulling up to a halt outside the box painted on the floor. Two men appeared, both middle-aged. From the passenger side of the vehicle was a security officer or policeman – hard to tell which, or if there was a difference. One hand held a peaked cap firmly on his head, while the other hovered over the large pistol slung from his belt. The other man wore plain black trousers and a white shirt, underneath a jacket which had the Japanese flag emblazoned over the heart. As he turned to reach back into the vehicle behind him they could see the word 'Customs' written in Japanese and again in English underneath it.

They waited until the engines had shut down and the rotors had stopped spinning before entering, which gave the fuel crew time to arrive too, waiting patiently in their cab. The customs official strode over to them briskly, the policeman following a pace or two behind. As they approached Kai and Shimazu, Kai gave a polite bow, then pulled out his datapad and keyed it alive, pulling up their transit plan and flight permits. After polite but perfunctory greets were exchanged, Kai presented his transit plans for inspection, with the Customs official making several notes and filling in check boxes swiftly on his own tablet. After checking that they were not dropping off any cargo in this prefecture, nor trans-shipping passengers, carrying any dangerous goods, live specimens or proscribed medications they were informed that no customs inspection was required, just an attestation of their manifest. Kai happily signed and printed the form, and after a brief moment of consideration the tablet lit up with an 'Approved' logo on the screen.

They turned on their heels, heading back to their buggy and with a choppy wave, signalled the fuel crew to approach. Fuelling was arranged, and two minutes later they were topping off the tanks, replacing the fuel used since Shanghai. When the fuelling was complete, they also left, returning to the hanger and disappearing inside. The area was quiet, nothing moving nearby, though they could see a steady stream of navigation lights from a hanger right down at the other end of the airport – probably a local drone delivery hub.

"All systems are ready, Kai. Fuel at one hundred percent. However, we do not have an onward flight plan filed at this time – we had clearance to arrive here and embark on a crew-rest period only."

"Ok, so I guess the next leg is where we need to go stealthy. How far to the next location from here?"

"About six-twenty-five klicks, on a direct route, Kai." Hunter responded. "We're just past four AM now, so we can be there by about five, five thirty, depending on the route"

"Excellent. Ok, so if we get some spirit concealment up, disguise us with a spell, can we sneak away from here?"

"Assuming that Tads operates as normal, the hardest challenge will be the airport radar. We are very close, and our deception systems will only do so much. But I believe so."

"Good, Marius. Ok, five minutes then, just to make sure everyone inside has had chance to relax and settle back down in front of the trideo, then we'll go for it…"

Tads had a good look around using the viewing prism as the time expired, making sure that she couldn't see anyone looking at their craft, and then concentrated on her spell, masking the vehicle and wrapping an illusion around it. The tilt-wing rippled and morphed, turning into a large twin rotor heavy lift chopper. Those who knew their helicopter designs might have wondered why Mitsuhama would be using a very old Russian design for one of their craft – but Tads felt she could mimic the team's old MI-6 chopper better than she could bring to life something else from a picture. Besides, the size was about right, and if anything the shape might confuse and distract people! She continued to watch as Marius powered up the engines, manipulating the image to match the noises she was hearing.

Marius lifted them up ten metres, high enough to clear any reasonable ground obstacle, and then flew east, trying to stay below the level at which the tower radar would detect them. He swore quietly to himself though as the radio chirped at him, broadcasting on the guard frequency.

"Mitsuhama rotor, Kilo-Kilo Four Two Niner Three – you do not have flight clearance! Power down at once!" The voice was thickly-accented and sounded angry and surprised in equal measures. Marius checked his height – he was still low, and he couldn't imagine he was visible on the sensors yet. As he glanced around through, he realised he could see the tower behind them – almost certainly, he'd just got unlucky and someone had happened to be looking this way…probably watching him with binoculars now, and able to read the tail number. Well, the illusion of one anyway… "Kai, we are detected. Someone needs to talk to the tower to deal with them!"

"Ok, Patch it through. Shimazu – talk to them will you. I think we need a native speaker for this."

"What now?" Shimazu spluttered, then caught his breath as the voice transferred into his earbud.

"You are instructed to land immediately. Repeat, you do not have take-off authorisation. Land immediately!"

"Negative tower. We have clearance. Check your files." He released the transmit button then coughed. He thought for a moment, and realised that he'd sounded weak over the radio, and probably not that convincing, then keyed up the microphone again. "Tower, we have clearance already, arranged via our regional headquarters. Be advised we are carrying VIPs… our regional director and his senior…ah… secretary. If attention is bought to this flight, he will no doubt become very angry. I advise you to check your records, clear the flight and forget you ever saw us."

The tilt-wing was still gathering speed as Marius lowered the nose, and they'd crossed the airport perimeter now, heading over the neat squares of farmland that lay at the end of the runway, increasing the distance between them and the tower with each passing second. Shimazu hoped the threat of a senior manager away for a raunchy weekend with his mistress would trigger the imagination of the tower controller – and also make him want to avoid his vengeful wrath if some lowly night shift operator drew attention to his indiscretions. Mitsuhama was one of the ten mega-corporations that strode the world like colossi, and powerful though they were in other countries, Japan was their home turf and they carried enormous power and prestige here.

The radio remained silent, and the distance between them extended. With every passing moment of indecision from the controller, he made it harder and harder to take action – and easier and easier to just decide to try and sweep the whole thing under the carpet and claim never to have seen anything at all. Assuming he could get rid of any records of the radio traffic, that is – which again would work in the team's favour.

They flew on, and once they've crossed the first peak and broken clear line of sight back to the airport, Marius eased up slightly and gained some altitude. Their journey eastwards took them along the spine of a series of hills and mountains, many of which were probably volcanic in origin – but the rugged terrain also meant the area was mostly empty, with only a few small isolated towns flashing by underneath them at the junctions of valleys and watercourses in the steep terrain.

They were approaching the coastal town of Usuki when Marius detected another chopper ahead, lifting off from the docks area. A quick check of the sensors showed a broad and long fuselage with a large rotor assembly, painted up in white livery with a purple and orange logo. As it climbed into the air it too turned east and started to accelerate ponderously. Marius slowed, lowering his altitude and started to manoeuvre very carefully. Hunter stirred next to him, watching as the anti-collision lights grew closer and closer to them.

"Marius, we're a little close don't you think? What are you doing?"

"Getting in underneath him. On a chopper like that, there is a blind spot, a big one, directly astern and below. He looks like he is heading the same direction as us."

Hunter watched as Marius approached the FedEx freight chopper carefully, sliding into position below him and then matching speeds. The freight chopper must have just taken on a full load of cargo of some kind – he took quite a while to reach top speed, making Marius perform a series of adjustments to match position with him. But, to anyone outside visual range, they'd show as a single radar return, and with the spirit concealing them, they were likely not to be spotted visually either.

The freight chopper headed east, covering three hundred and sixty kilometres before it turned north on approach to the city of Osaka, all the while accompanied by a stealthy shadow. As the FedEx chopper swung north, Marius peeled off to the south, staying in their blind spot for a few minutes before swinging back around once the distance had opened up, just in case. That left them the last two hundred kilometres to travel, heading eastwards over more rugged terrain. Marius had come to the conclusion by now that land in Japan came only in three flavours – cities, industrial farmland and mountains – there seemed to be nothing else, and very little variation inside those types either.

A little after five in the morning, the tilt-wing crossed the shore, heading in from the bay towards Zaozan peak, nestled amongst two large built up areas where housing and farmland were mixed in, following the contours of the mountains. They flashed over a small fishing port and what appeared to be a disused quarry before climbing up towards the peak, Marius looking towards the glowing sky at the east, the sun threatening to rise at any moment.

"Ok, Marius, should be coming up on a car park, bearing zero, nine, eight. Looks big enough for several coaches and stuff, should be plenty big enough to land in. Puts us only two hundred metres from the peak, so should be an easy plant."

"I have it. Deploying landing gear. I will keep the engines running, I see no need to stop at this one."

"I'll dive out, find a place to stash it, then get back in." Aswon volunteered. "If it's a car park, they're going to have bins, benches, maybe signposts… tourist stuff. Should be plenty of options." He recovered a token from the bag and got himself ready as Marius bought them in for a landing. It wasn't quite as smooth as he would have liked, but the car park was on a fifteen degree slope that wasn't evident from the map, and he had to turn them carefully to avoid just rolling downhill as soon as he touched down.

True to his word, he kept the rotors spinning and the engines powered up, watching on the feed as Aswon jumped down from the doorway and started to stride across the car park to the road on the northern side. He was just passing by the engines, having to skirt wide to avoid the jet blast that was slowly softening the tarmac and making it run downhill, even with the engines throttled way back, when Marius caught a flash of colour on the sensors the other side and sounded the alarm.

"Achtung! One target, female, leaving the treeline to the south, heading your way, Aswon!"

While the team studied the monitors, Aswon glanced back over his shoulder to see what was going on, and spotted the figure. She was tall and appeared to be very broad at first glance – at least until he realised she was wearing some kind of ceremonial robes or garb. Huge sleeves trailed down almost to her knees, and the multiple layers of coats, wraps, robes and undergarments rippled in the wind. The closer she got to the tilt-wing, the more her robes were whipped about by the downwash, and they could see her struggling to gather the garments in and keep them under control. Despite this her face seemed to be tightly under control – features calm but determined as she stared at Aswon.

"She looks religious. Sounds like a Shimazu problem to me!" Aswon turned back and continued to head towards the road, spotting two benches, a bin and an ornamental garden that all held promise as a location to plant the token in. He head Shimazu grunt as he swung the door open to the tilt wing and jumped down, heading over to meet the newcomer.

"Please! Stop! I beg of you. Your presence here could ruin everything!" Her hands pressed together as she addressed Shimazu, and her robes fluttered madly around her head once more as she genuflected at him. He looked at her, struggling to keep her head free from her robes, but standing dignified and calmly even so.

"Marius, can you power down, please. I want to hear what she has to say." There was no response over the comms, but the engine noise cut back after a few seconds, diminishing the flow of heated air, and above them the rotors started to slow. Aswon had continued to walk and was close to the benches now, looking around him for a suitable place, and for the first time Shimazu saw a little emotion enter the face of the priestess standing before him.

"Please, your friend. He must not be here. Not today. Not until sunset. He will undo all of our work!"

Aswon looked around him and found just what he was looking for – a small crack between two of the large rocks making up the outer edge of a flower bed. He pulled out his phone and raised it up, taking some random pictures of the signs and the woodland over the road, and then let the token fall out of his hands to the ground. It slid down into the nook, visible, but protected on all sides by the soil and rock around it. Aswon smiled as he hit the bullseye, then turned and took a few more photos facing towards Shimazu, before starting to head back that way, acting like just another tourist.

"What was he doing there? Why are you here?" She started to walk around the front of the tilt-wing, her robes trailing behind her and billowing now in the much-reduced wind. Her black hair streamed behind her as she closed the distance – but then ignored Aswon and headed over to the area he'd been standing in. Shimazu hustled to catch up with her. "It is very important – we must rededicate the shrine, and we can only do this if the area is in balance. It must be in harmony…"

She stopped and looked down, examining the area where Aswon had stood, quartering the ground with her gaze. Either she had the eyesight of a hawk and had seen him drop something, or she was incredibly paranoid. Possibly both… Shimazu looked down and spotted the token quickly enough – it helped that he knew exactly what he was looking for of course.

"If she finds it, that's going to be a problem," Kai murmured, watching through the sensor feed from inside the craft.

"If she does find it, she'll probably take it back to her temple at a guess. And that's on the mountain, inside the zone. So it should still be good. It just means she has to deal with the Triads and the Yakuza turning up looking for it."

"I… Maybe, maybe not. I don't like it. If her work is here but her home is somewhere else, it could end up there. Or in the bin. Too much of a risk."

"Another target! Same position, coming out of the woodline. Armed!" The sensor footage split, one camera feed showing the priestess and Shimazu standing by the flower-bed, while the other half showed a fit and wiry looking man emerge from the trees, carrying a large sword over one shoulder. He wore an outfit that reminded them of the training suits for a martial art, his hair neatly bundled and tucked under a bandana. A small pair of wire rimmed glasses were perched over the nose, and his face was lined and marked with age – yet he appeared spry and fit. The engine noise started to pick back up as Marius applied power, the rotors starting to spin back up to take-off speed once more. "Kai, what are you doing?" Marius felt his side twitch as Kai slid the door open and jumped down, turning to face the armed newcomer and give him a friendly smile and a bow. The man saw him, nodded and started to walk towards him.

Over at the flower bed, the priestess was still searching, and Shimazu asked her if he could help?

"We have been working for weeks now. Conducting minor rituals. Clearing the mountain of contaminants. Sanctifying the ground, cleansing it, purifying it. Bringing the land back into harmony, spirits of sky, earth, wind and ancestor. But now the balance is disrupted, and we cannot begin the ritual. We have only a few minutes! Ahhhh!" She spotted the token, and used her left hand to grab her right sleeve, pulling it back to reveal a slender arm with pale flawless skin. Quickly Shimazu dived down and grabbed the token before she could touch it.

"Ahh, maybe my friend dropped this. My apologies. He can be clumsy when he is taking pictures. I'll take it away."

"Hunter, she looks like she found it, but Shimazu has it back. If we take off, where else can I land within the allowed radius of the top?"

"Nowhere good, Marius. The volcano isn't that big, and it's all wooded on the slopes, until we hit either road, houses or farmland. There's the quarry we flew over on the way in, but that's too far out. We'd have to do the hover and levitate trick again."

"I do not know what the thing is your friend left. But please, I can feel it has disrupted the balance of our land." She stared at him, voice low and full of emotion, yet still somehow reserved and dignified. Shimazu shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. She seemed so sincere and truthful – he didn't know what was going on, but it was very important to her.

"We have been tasked with leaving this thing here, for some reason. On this volcano. Is there anywhere we can do this without affecting your plans?" He decided to try the truth, and let her feel the depth of his sincerity in return.

"Yes – you can leave it on the hill if you wish. But tonight, after sunset. Once the shrine is aligned and repaired. All I ask is that you delay your task for twelve hours."

"Twelve hours? We can leave it here, but not for twelve hours?" He recited her words back to her, watching her nod and not realising he'd said that for the benefit of the rest of the team.

"We could maybe leave a spirit holding it, like we were doing with the grenades. As soon as it hits dusk, it drops the token?" Tads suggested. "It won't be neat, but it keeps it off her mountain until dusk?"

"Please! We have only a few minutes before the ritual must start. You must take it and leave!" She gestured up to the top of the hill at the steadily brightening sky. Shimazu looked up and made an educated guess – the ritual had to start at dawn, and probably stop at dusk. The twelve hours she was citing was an approximation, and probably a little over.

"Boss – can we delay for twelve hours?" The engine noise continued to rise up and the downdraft intensified, and they heard Marius starting to call out over the radio, telling Kai they had a plan and to stick to it…

"Tell her yes, we can wait. But we need somewhere to park and wait. We're happy to help her, if we can, for her being so understanding. I gotta go, sword dude is just about here. Good morning sir! A lovely morning, is it not?" Kai swapped over to halting Japanese and gave the man a broad smile, hoping that he'd gotten the inflexion right and not called him a distressed cabbage by mistake.

Aswon had jumped onto the viewing prism and slewed the angle round to study the priestess.

"Ok, human, looks unaugmented. Not detecting any traces of magical power. Actively trying to pierce any masking….no, nothing. So she's either more powerful than I am, or she knows the weird technique that Chun had, or she really is just a priestess. One moment… woah! Ok, man with a sword IS magically active, Kai. Be careful! He's a mage of some kind, concerned but not hostile. A little less powerful than I am. And not at all worried about being near you, which suggests that sword is not just for show." He blinked, and then concentrated on the sword for a moment. "The sword is… well it's not a weapon foci – at least not yet. But it looks like it has the potential to be. It's been prepared… yeah, it looks ready to enchant. And I'm getting some strong vibes from it, duty and honour."

The priestess hurried back towards the tilt-wing, Shimazu walking with her. She approached the man with the sword, and bowed her head to him, struggling once more to restrain her clothing in the torrent of air that whipped around them.

"Master Isarroko. May these people come to your workshop, while we carry out the rites?"

"Hai."

"My thanks. If your pilot can fly down the hill, to the quarry. Master Isarroko will direct you. But please, go! There is no time left!"

"Go ahead, I'm going with the priestess to see if I can help with the ritual." Kai made a shooing motion to Shimazu, who gave him a pained expression as he contemplated leaving him alone – but the sky above them was getting lighter by the moment, and there was no time to argue. Shimazu nodded and vaulted up through the door, then turned around to offer Isarroko a hand as well, but found that he'd already grabbed the handle at the side of the door and swung himself up onto the floor, legs dangling out of the side. He grinned and made a circling motion with his hand, and Shimazu just shrugged, then activated his comms.

"Marius, up in the air please, and down the hill to the west – we're heading for the quarry at the bottom, and we need to clear the volcano before sunrise." He staggered slightly as the craft vaulted into the air abruptly – Marius's way of telling them he was pretty annoyed with the whole situation, but inside a second they were above the trees, and three seconds later they were screaming down the slope like a banshee. Isarroko clung onto the handle with one wiry hand, holding his sword with the other and leant out slightly, the slipstream making his flesh ripple as they flew down the mountain, a broad smile spreading across his face as trees flashed by no more than three metres away.

Nearing the bottom of the hill, Isarroko turned to Shimazu and pointed down towards a large wooden house on the north east side of the quarry working, with a courtyard enclosed on three sides.

"Please land in there, and we can…." Shimazu turned to listen to him, swinging to his side to try and get closer. Isarroko's eyes went wide as he caught sight of the sword scabbard, his voice tailing off and he just stared, slightly open mouthed. Shimazu saw shock, surprise and something else in his expression… desire perhaps?

"You obviously recognise this, let's have a chat afterwards, once we've landed." Isarroko nodded and pointed down at the courtyard again, and Shimazu called forward to Marius to advise him of the landing instructions.

"Master Isarroko – I have a question. We have been told about snow beasts, on the mountain. I am concerned about our boss. I assume he is safe with the priestess?" Isarroko smiled, then gave a hearty laugh, the noise distorted by the rush of air past the open door.

"Snow beasts? Yes, there are beasts – though you are too early in the year for them. But they are not creatures you should fear, they are instead wonders of nature. There is a lake you see, and water from the lake is carried by the wind up to the shrine…." Isarroko described how the water condensed out of the atmosphere, coalescing onto the trees and vegetation and driven by the wind until it formed near horizontal ice formations, turning the flora into bizarre looking shapes, as if a horde of gargoyles had been frozen by the winter. His language was poetic and there was much reference to the local spirits forming the shapes, battling each other as part of the ongoing cycle – but it boiled down to local weather making strange shapes, and being an attraction for the tourist market. It appeared that the finer points of the written form of Japanese language required more careful translation than they'd managed so far…

Marius bought them into land, the tilt-wing filling the courtyard, though not as tightly as it had at the academy in Hong Kong. Hunter once again indicated that he was planning on staying aboard and not exposing himself to anyone in Japan that might take umbrage with him, settling down with his computer to do some research. That left Marius and Aswon to roll out one of the fuel barrels and set up the hand pump, working to top off the tanks.

Tads, Shimazu and Master Isarroko headed to the side of the courtyard, where their host slid back some large panels, revealing a large forge and blacksmithing setup that took up the entire wing of the courtyard. A forge dominated the centre, two large sets of leather bellows attached to the side, while quenching troughs, anvils and tools were arranged to either side of the mouth of the blackened furnace.

"I will fetch water for your comrades working in your vehicle, before we ascend to the shrine for the ritual." They took a seat on some straw mats, and waited while he headed to a pump at the end of the building, filling a large earthenware pot and collecting several ornately carved wooden cups. When he had laid them out ready for the others, he gathered his sword and started to head up the hill, closely followed by Shimazu, Vadim and Tads.

Up at the top of the mountain, the priestess led Kai up stone steps surrounded by towering trees, mist filtering through the leaves and lending the area an unnatural quality. As the first rays of sunlight washed over the shrine, the priestess raised her arms and started to chant. The archaic language was confusing, and Kai quickly lost track of what she was saying, contenting himself instead to looking supportive and trying not to be in the way. Three other priests and priestesses were present, all chanting along, their voices overlapping at times, in harmony at others. For ten minutes they continued, then abruptly stopped. The others headed along paths, disappearing into the woods, while the priestess they had first interacted with beckoned Kai over to a small building by the side of the shrine and motioned for him to sit.

"My name is Yani Turokwina. Welcome to Zaozan. Please, will you join me for tea?"

"Thank you. The name's Kai, and I'd like that."

As he sat down, she began a highly ritualised serving process. He watched carefully, wondering if she realised that she was performing a magical rite that was centuries old, or if she was just following tradition. It didn't have any effect – at least not that he could see – when carried out by someone without talent, but it showed that there was potential here… if someone did carry out the rite that had the talent to channel mana or interact with astral space, who knew what would be the result?

She was patient and explained the ritual to him, teaching him how to carry out his part and allaying his fears that he was interrupting her rites, reassuring him that there was time allocated for just such an encounter. He was most of the way through when the Isarroko and the others appeared, their cheeks rosy and chests rising and falling rapidly from the swift ascent. Isarroko took up a position in front of the shrine, and knelt down, sword laid out in front of him while he placed his head to the floor and prayed.

When the tea ritual was concluded Yani moved over to stand near Isarroko and started to chant once more. Smoothly the swordsman rose, and began a complicated kata, the sword flashing around over his head and around his body, striking back and forth in times with the chants. Shimazu watched with intense concentration, amazed at how fluid the old man was, and trying to assess his technique and form.

"Hey, Tads, I just thought…our spirits? Are they going to interfere with this magical rite thing they're doing?"

"No, Kai. I let our spirits go before dawn and didn't summon any more. I thought it might not be appropriate."

"Ahh, good call. You should try the tea by the way, it's lovely."

She nodded, but she too was concentrating on Isarroko and his performance. She wasn't sure whether he knew the techniques for masking his aura and was just choosing not to, or if his talents laid elsewhere – but as he carried out his kata she saw him concentrating and focussing magical power at key junctures. Shimazu could see them too, and realised they related to the same techniques he'd been learning from Aswon – methods to focus the mind and centre the body to achieve excellence.

While the others watched the ritual, Kai went back to the tea set, casting a careful eye over it. The set was hand made for sure, in a traditional style and the painting was precise and of great quality, with just enough imperfections to assure him it was authentic and painted by hand, not produced by a machine. Along with the building itself, the chairs and various other bits of furniture or belongings, there was enough antique and vintage equipment here to turn a handsome profit at any number of antique fairs and make a number of collectors very happy. He gently put the cup and saucer down after examining it, taking care to place it back in exactly the same place and at the same angle, just in case…

After an hour, the first part of the rituals seemed to be concluded. Isarroko collected his sword, and informed the team that they were welcome to return with him to his home, as he was not required again until noon. Kai elected to stay with Yani, to further observe the rites and rituals, but the rest of the group followed the spry old man as he descended the hill, dropping two hundred metres vertically in the kilometre walk back to the quarry. When they got back to the house they found the Aswon on watch, while both Marius and Hunter were snoozing, having finished the refuelling of the aircraft.

Tads, Shimazu and Vadim entered the forge area as Isarroko beckoned them inside, and all three of them stiffened as they felt the subtle change in the mana field. It was an odd sensation – in some ways like the feeling they had when flying towards Nagasaki, the mana being difficult to grasp, feeling strange and odd. And yet, the feeling was utterly unlike that of the city. Nagasaki had been subjected to an attack with the most destructive force man had yet devised, killing tens of thousands in a fiery flash, blinding more and subjecting tens of thousands more to horrific burns and the slow lingering death from radiation poisoning. Putting aside any arguments about the lives that might have been saved by hastening the end of the war, it was still an act of cold, calculating, very human conflict – where the deaths of so many had been engineered and carried out in a deliberate and systematic fashion. The death throes and psychic screams of their suffering had rent a void in the manasphere that remained to this day, a backlash of emotion against the pain and anguish caused.

The feeling in the forge was nowhere near as strong as that – but it was also subtly different. It echoed the odd feeling they'd had at Chun's, where there had been a faint background aura of sweat, toil and effort. Here though the feeling was stronger, and slightly different – though it encompassed many of the same emotions. Shimazu in particular seemed to be moved by the feeling – when he closed his eyes he could almost hear the hammering of metal over generations of swordsmiths, carrying out their art and imbuing a part of their soul into the blades they were forging, the smell of coal and wood burning, the spitting of molten metal, the flashing of water to steam as a billet was plunged into a quenching trough. The whole building oozed a sense of history and age, speaking of generations of labour that had been carried out within these walls.

Isarroko pulled out two large swatches of cloth from a bag, laying one over each hand carefully so all of his flesh was covered.

"May I see your sword?"

"Of course." Shimazu shifted around slightly and unclipped the scabbard from his waist, and then carefully drew the blade. Setting the scabbard to one side, he presented the sword in two hands, transferring it onto the silken material. Isarroko carefully lifted the sword up and examined it closely, his eyes darting back and forth as he took in the details.

"May I ask where you obtained this?"

"We were carrying out an operation in the country of Iran, when we discovered it. It was…salvaged, from people unworthy to carry it." He spoke carefully, considering his words before opening his mouth. He wasn't quite sure why this man was so entranced with his sword, but he clearly was – and equally strangely, Shimazu felt that he needed to be honest in what he said. Maybe because of some respect for his craft and skills? He certainly didn't feel like he was being magically coerced, and Tads hadn't spotted anything untoward either. "We feel that the sword is better placed with us, with people who understand the true value."

"It must be fate. To bring you here, at this time, on this day. The ancestors have blessed us with a sign." He tested the balance on the sword, sighing with happiness as he easily found the point just before the crossguard where the blade would balance on a finger with ease. Bowing his head, he returned the sword to Shimazu, then shucked off the cloths and rose smoothly to his feet. "I will return momentarily."

He was gone for no more than a minute, returning with a blade in a small scabbard. He sat before them once more, sitting back on his knees and placed the scabbard before him.

"This is his little brother. They have been apart for quite some time." Lifting the scabbard with his left hand, he grasped the handgrip and drew the sword a little, exposing a few centimetres of blade. Transferring the weight to the right hand, he moved his left thumb over to the live edge and gently scraped it, lifting up a small flap of skin until a few drops of blood formed. With a flick of the hand they were sent into the open mouth of the forge, the sizzle lost in the roar of the flames. Playing a hunch, Shimazu reached over to grab the two silken cloth swatches and covered his hands, allowing Isarroko to lay the blade into his open hands.

"May I ask why you cut yourself?"

"To show respect for the blade. The weapon was forged by my great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great- great-grandfather, and is the weapon of a Samurai. It is honoured and venerated as such. Shimazu tried to keep up with the generations, but wasn't sure if it was thirteen or fourteen he'd counted. Either way, if this blade had been in his family that long, it was likely forged back in the fifteenth or sixteenth century. He turned the blade over, examining the workmanship and spotting the similarities between the two blades, the same patterns and markings woven into the blade, the style of the pommel and crossguard, the subtle curve of the blade. He bowed his head again as he returned the blade to Isarroko, and then drew his own sword once more to hold against the smaller weapon.

"They are indeed alike. Other than the additions made to this one of course." He gently rubbed a thumb over the oricalcum wire worked into the hilt and crossguard, along with the subtle etchings. He cast a quick glance over towards Tadibya, and she gave an answering nod. "Our shaman, Tadibya, is an enchantress and has taken the blade and used her craft and skill upon it, working mana into the blade and making it a fearsome weapon, feared by djinn and evil spirits. It has saved my life several times."

"May I show you something? It will require heating the blade, but will not damage it." Shimazu nodded, and watched as Isarroko donned sturdy leather gloves, then took each weapon by the handle and carefully placed the blades into the furnace. He didn't pump the bellows, the dull red heat of the sleeping flames being sufficient for his task, and they watched in silence as the blades took on a dull cherry red colour that worked from the tips towards the pommels. As the glow worked backwards, a subtle pattern appeared before the crossguard, a complex series of characters inscribed or etched with great skill.

"What is that?" Shimazu leant forward, curious as to the glyph that had been on his blade since he'd found it, yet never seen before.

"It is the mark of the Rakkashima clan. My bloodline. I do not know what twist of fate has bought you here, what ancestors I have to thank – but you have reunited the great blades of my house, a blade once thought lost forever, to our great shame." Shimazu's heart began to beat a little faster as he heard Isarroko speak. His language and attitude suggested that he wanted to keep the blade – that he believed it was his, and that it had returned home. And, culturally, Shimazu had to acknowledge that he had good claim to the blade – the similarities between the blades were too strong to be coincidence, and the makers' marks proved that they had been crafted by the same blacksmith at the least. But it was HIS sword. He had invested blood, sweat and tears with that sword over the last months, making it an extension of his own body. A method to exert his will over the world, to protect his friends and to deal with their enemies. He'd invested part of his own soul in the magical enchantment that was bound into the weapon, and it was tied to him in a way most people would never grasp.

There was only one way he wanted to give up the blade – over his own dead body.

"I must make you a weapon in recompense of course. I cannot leave a warrior without a sword, especially when he has bought our honour home. The hand of fate has been just, but such gifts must be answered in kind."

"I am afraid that this is not possible. I'm sorry, and I speak with the greatest respect. I cannot argue that the sword is that which you claim. But I cannot give it up."

"Why?" The question was asked softly, without anger. It was the question from a man who sought understanding, who recognised the raw emotion that had leached into Shimazu's voice, who saw the conflict within him.

Shimazu considered for a moment, and then deliberately dropped his masking, exposing his magical nature to Isarroko. Along with it, the link to the sword became visible, a flow of mana between them, linking the soul of the sword with the essence of the man, a complex interplay of energy that bound them together.

"We have fought enemies across many countries. Defeated foes of darkness and evil. This sword has been my weapon in defeating malevolent entities of many kinds." A thought occurred to him, and he glanced at Tads. "If you are willing, I can show you. Our shaman could cast a spell, linking our minds and allowing me to show you what this blade has done, and what it has achieved?" Isarroko examined Shimazu and the sword carefully. Outwardly he gave no sign of alarm or surprise, but he could clearly see Shimazu's essence now, and there was no denying the level of magical mastery he had attained. He sipped at some water and then turned to nod at Tads. She moved around to sit by their side, touching each gently on the shoulder and cast her spell, throwing her will into the casting to overcome the resistance of the forge.

Once he felt the mind-link in place, Shimazu started to think back to the scenarios where he had fought with the sword. Fighting the werewolves in the valley near Tashkent, slicing and stabbing at the creatures as they tried to climb into the truck after dominating one of the team to open the door. Engaging with the spirits that had attacked them in Russia, seeking to confuse and hurt them. Attacking the shapeshifters at the frozen lake when they had gone on a desperate rescue mission to recover Tads from her abductors. The hours of practice spent attuning his will to the sword, and the sword to his will, flashing back to standing guard over Tads while she quested to the astral realm, practicing katas and drawing the weapon until he had mastered the blade utterly. Fending off the attacking giant bear in Tehran at the smuggler market, his sword slicing through the magical foe as his body and blade acted as one.

He cast his mind back to the enchanting of the blade, of sitting with Tads as she laboured to craft his foci from the raw material, delicately stretching the alchemically created wire around the handgrip, inlaying gold into the etchings, as she and he poured power and their essences into the blade. After a moment's thought he showed other scenes too – the wrecked body of Tads after she'd been assaulted and mauled. He replayed the scene with the Jewish retrieval team sent after the golem, where he'd been soundly pounded. For every victory the sword had bought him, he reflected on a failure to protect his team, where his skill had not been sufficient to protect them from harm. And through it all, he let transfer over the desire to be better, to do better. To stand between the team and those that would harm them, with the sword at his side. Finally, he thought back to the ancient temple, their fear-laden descent into the depths on another rescue mission. The eldritch horror that lay waiting for them, striking terror into their hearts. Frantic gunfire and futile attacks, the fighting retreat once they had the victims rescued. And the promise made to the great dragon Aden, standing atop one of his lairs that they would return to deal with that threat. A threat that Aswon had sworn to carry out as a magical deed, pledging his soul to its completion, no matter the cost. And of Shimazu's intention to accompany the team back into that pit of despair, to protect them.

"That is why I must take the sword. I believe it was destiny that led it to me, or me to it. But one thing I can do is promise, on my honour – that if I were to fall, that I would ask my teammates to bring the sword back here, to bring it home. Not to let it fall into the hands of another."

"I must think on this."

Shimazu pulled the blade out in front of him, studying it carefully then raising his eyes to stare at Isarroko. A calmness fell over him and his breathing faded away as his body stilled. He wasn't sure what drove him – his loyalty to the team, the bond to the magical group, or just the expectations of his ancestors and culture. But he raised the thumb of his left hand to near the guard and then pressed down firmly onto the blade.

Still hot from being plunged into the fire, the sharp blade sliced and cauterised into the flesh, a faint smell rising from the thumb as the blood that rushed to the surface evaporated immediately, rising from the wound.

"I can also promise you. When we go back to the temple, to defeat the horror, I will do so in your ancestors' honour. I will raise the blade high, and slay this force of evil, in the name of clan Rakkashima, venerating the craftsman who poured their essence into its creation. I will restore the honour of the blade that has not been carried by a Samurai for too long."

Shimazu bowed his head, and Isarroko mirrored him. Tads and Vadim looked on, feeling the tingle in the air as the magical pact was sealed, and wondered what Isarroko was going to do in the face of such a promise.