Wednesday 29/9/60, Location: 60.31944, -141.09447, Time 15:47

The real world had faded away, replaced with a confusing wash of emotions and memories, wisps of events past and planned futures, swirling in a sea of possibilities. His training let him sort through the threads of feelings that radiated from the necklace. Slowly a more coherent series of events swam into focus around him…

Darkness, not black, but dark, faint tinges of light fringed with pink. Slowly the darkness lifts as the hands are moved from in front of your eyes.

A woman is revealed, wrapped in a blanket. Smoke wafts around her, the fabric behind her ripples in the wind. Black hair sweeps over the top of her head, drifting down the side of her face. She tucks a few strands behind her ears and smiles at you. Corners of her mouth crease and crinkle, and her brown eyes sparkle in the firelight.

She moves, and the blanket falls open, revealing her tanned and lithe body, firm breasts smooth and inviting. She wriggles forwards, and you feel your own arousal rising. Glancing up, her smile broadens as she stalks towards you on all fours, moving to lay over you and wrap you in her arms. As she squirms, your own blanket falls away, your flesh making contact with hers.

The excitement builds in you as you join, penetrating her, your bodies moving in unison, two people locked together passionately in the tepee, illuminated by the fire and with nothing but the whispers of the wind to disturb you.

Ecstasy. Then quiet fulfilment. Wrapped in blankets, lying intertwined. Her fingers running across your chest, while you do the same, tracing gentle fingers over the soft flesh. Reaching under the furs and pulling out the small package, presenting the necklace to her. Joy and wonder. Her playing with the necklace, holding the polar bear fangs up and examining them. Your gift to her, conquest from your tribal hunters, binding her peoples and yours together, a union between two families.

The fire dying down, the sweat on your bodies from the night of passion, goosebumps now rising in the chillier air. Neither of you wanting to let go, to stop, for this perfect night to end. Your marriage consummated, just the two of you alone in the forest, all responsibilities of the tribe forgotten for one night. Wrapping blankets around you. Bodies pressing together, feeling the fangs pressing into your flesh, leaving indentations in both of you as you clench, promising to be with each other, always.

Firelight fades, slowly returning to darkness.

The darkness receding, this time abruptly, blinding light as the flap of the tent is thrown open. A different tent, a different time. Screams and shouts. The tribe running around, gathering equipment. Hunters, beckoning you forth. Sadness in their eyes, fear and unease in the way they stand. One of them holds out the necklace to you. A pain in your stomach as if kicked or stabbed with a knife, loss and separation. Racing with the Hunters across the landscape, running to the river, where it was found. Searching – but no sign of your wife, or your son. Vanished, without a trace. Collapsing to your knees, your head in your hands, the tears flowing down your face at their loss. Vision fading as you sob uncontrollably.

Now visions came at pace, flashes of movement and violence. Running, screaming. Branches whipping past your face, scratching at your skin. Holding your child to your breasts, your heart pounding, fear driving you on.

Shouts and cries from behind, gaining on you. Impact, driving you to your knees, arms cradled about the boy. Hands grabbing you, rolling you over, pinning you down.

Screaming, biting, scratching. A slap, so hard it loosens your teeth. A backhand that splits your lip, sending a spray of blood to one side. Laughing, cruel and insidious. Clothes ripping. Your child plucked away from you by rough hands, dangling above you while you sob. Fumbling, pressing upon you. Hatred and fear, anger and futility. Feelings of disgust and revulsion washing over you. The face swimming into focus above you, a crescent shaped scar by the side of the nose, a wonky tooth, grey eyes as merciless as those of a storm. Pressing, forcing, thrusting. Struggling and writhing, but it's no good. No good. You're not strong enough.

Broken and bruised you lay, spent from your struggles. More laughter overhead as they ready themselves to leave, fastening uniforms. Then fresh fear as pain washes over you, your hair grabbed and your body dragged over the rough ground. Dragged to the river. The terrible sound of a gunshot echoing through the trees and a splash as something hits the river, and with it the terrible feeling of your heart breaking, guilt and anguish rippling through you. Then a cold sensation at the back of your neck.

Darkness.

Slowly the world swam back into focus, and Shimazu became aware of the tears rolling down his cheek and the ragged rising and falling of his chest as his heart pounded. The emotions were real and his body tingled and trembled as adrenaline coursed through his system, his brain responding to the 'feelings' he had awoken.

"Was this given to your wife?"

"Yes." Kutara gave a smile, a sad and somewhat wistful expression as his mind cast back to happier days.

"You were a lucky man. She…. She loved you very much. I felt it." Shimazu saw the shaman start to cry as well, naked emotion visible as memories resurfaced. "Do you know who did it?" Shimazu felt his stomach drop as the shaman's head whipped up to face him, and the look of joy and happiness faded in an instant.

"Did it? Did what."

"The men that…. what did you think happened?" Shimazu realised he'd probably said too much already, caught off guard by the wash of emotion that had overcome him.

"They went missing. Disappeared while they were out foraging. We searched for days, weeks maybe. No sign of them, but then one day we did find the necklace, caught on some rocks in the river."

"Do you have a man in your tribe with a crescent shaped scar next to his nose?"

"No, nobody like that. I can't remember ever meeting someone like that at all."

"That man. He, and others. They… I'm sorry, so sorry. They killed your wife." He watched as the shaman's hands clenched, the skin going pale as the fingers gripped together tightly, while the shoulders trembled with tension. A few seconds passed with nothing but the howling of the wind outside the cave to be heard. The rest of the team had guessed at least some of the story from the context and Shimazu's minimal description and they waited in silence as the mood turned grim.

"Will you share your memories with me? Show me what you saw?" Kutara kept his face pointing down towards the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. Shimazu turned towards Tads rather than answering him directly.

"If I join in the spell, I can choose what to share, can't I. My thoughts can't be probed or taken against my will?" Tads nodded at him, confirming his thoughts. "Sorry, nothing against you, Kutara, but we're involved in some things we cannot share with others. But I will share my thoughts with you." He shuffled forwards, scooting across the floor until he was barely a handsbreadth from the shaman. Taking a few deep calming breaths, he held out his right hand, and sat with head bowed. Kutara extended his own hands, lightly resting them on either side of Shimazu's then cast his spell. Mana coalesced around him, a bright orb of power visible to everyone with astral sight. His spell was plenty powerful enough, and he seemed very adept at casting it – and Shimazu felt a weird sensation as he sensed Kutara in his consciousness, almost like someone looking over his shoulder.

He relived the experience, remembering the scene as best as he could and reflecting on the encounter, the view of the man's face and the details of his scar in particular, then regressed further to experience the joy as the gift was given again, trying to end on a happier time.

"You know more. Please, I must see it. I need to see it. If you know something more, please share it with me."

"What I see won't help you, but will only bring you pain. It's not new information, and once you have seen it, you can never unsee it. I don't think it is wise."

"Please." Kutara's voice was barely a whisper, but there was such longing and sadness in it that Shimazu couldn't resist. He thought back through the rest of the scene, working through her flight and the assault. When it was done, he tried to flash back to the necklace again, grounding the memories on something more pleasant. "Thank you." Kutara let the spell dissipate and fade away. In a smooth move he rose to his feet and started to move to the far side of the cave, away from everyone else. Shimazu reached over and held out a hand in front of him, gesturing for him to stop and wait for a moment.

"I have no words of solace for you. All I can tell you is that if I meet this man, regardless of the repercussions, I will bring him to justice. I did not see what happened, but I felt it. And nobody should have to experience that." The others in the team fixed him with curious looks, wondering just what he had felt that would make him utter such a promise. Shimazu looked up, glancing over to the team with his face now emotionless and still, as if drained of all feelings by the mind-link with the shaman. Aswon made eye contact and nodded firmly, trying to show his support. He had a fair guess of what was going on, and could imagine that Shimazu had probably felt first hand what it must have been like, no doubt giving him a unique viewpoint. The realisation of what they were talking about – or rather not talking about – rippled through the rest of the team, and the mood became very sombre. Kutara sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest, starting to rock almost imperceptibly.

"Shimazu, if you can give us a good description of this tribesman, perhaps we can get some of Tads' spirits to search for them. I suspect it will be too long ago, but there is always a chance of finding someone."

"They weren't a native, they were Anglo."

"Ahh, in that case, Hunter, perhaps you can help here. If we get a description of the individual, we can run a matrix search. If they're Anglo, they're going to be on a database somewhere, or caught by a traffic cam, or the entrance door for a restaurant. We'll find them if we really want to – it's just a matter of time.

"Sure. I'll need as much info as possible, and a matrix connection of course. Which means not in here. So, I'm going to get some sleep, as I might be doing searches during the next flight, instead of resting after our little hike tomorrow." With that, he pulled a blanket up and over him, turned to face the wall and settled down to try and sleep. With that the cave fell quiet again, nobody quite knowing what to say or do to deal with Kutara and his grief.

Ten minutes dragged by painfully slowly, with only the quiet snuffles of Hunter's half-snores to distract them from the silence. Aswon reached a decision, and cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the rest of the team. He poured himself some water, then gently poked the remnants of the wood on the fire, trying to coax a little more light from it.

"Kutara, we've travelled far and wide, though this is the first time we have come to your lands. Would you like to hear some stories of places far away? To thank you for your hospitality?" For a moment he wasn't sure if the shaman was going to respond, but a hand unclenched from around his legs and wiped at his face, then he looked up to meet Aswon's gaze, eyes red and watery.

"Yes, I will hear your tales." They could hear the catch in the voice, saw the obvious effort to portray some semblance of normality.

"Well… very good, I will try to tell you a tale that is worthy then. Far away to the west…or the east I suppose, is a place called Istanbul, though some would call it Constantinople. A sprawling place it is, two vast halves of a city straddling something called the Bosphoros, a river so mighty it joins two seas together and boats hundreds of metres long can sail along it. We were there to meet with a contact, and during our time there, one of our team became injured in a road accident. The police were coming, and we did not have the correct papers to be there, the permits needed to be in the city, you see. So Marius here came up with an amazing idea…" Aswon went on with the story, detailing with colourful language and emotive storytelling how they had impersonated a special operations team to escape official attention from the local law enforcement officers, while not going into the specifics of why or how deeply enough to represent a real risk to the team.

When his tale was done, and with a little prodding, Tads went on to describe their mission into Yakut, searching for the rare Dragonspine plant, talking about the rainbow of mana and the shimmering astral construct that had appeared and describing the wonder they had seen, and how careful they had been to move the plant to ensure it was safe. Then she moved on to tell the tale of meeting the Quoll, and how jealous she had been at first of Hunter who had been taken for a ride up the mountain in exchange for other stories. With a broad grin on her face she continued, describing how she had returned later as an astral traveller, experiencing something even better herself.

"You know – even though it's on the other side of the ocean, I think given how powerful you must be as a shaman of this land, we might reach the Quoll's mountain in little more than an hour. Allowing for getting there and back, we would still have time to spend a while there to talk to him, and introduce you. If you wanted to go." Tads paused for a moment, and then thought about the journey a little more – about ten thousand kilometres over the featureless ocean, with no landmarks to navigate by… and unfamiliar ocean at that, with the possibility of all manner of strange creatures or phenomenon. "On second thoughts though, perhaps that is a little dangerous. Maybe something to do when and if we come back this way, where we don't have to risk injury with a mountain to climb in the morning…"

"I've got a story to tell you. One that might not sound quite as happy as those others, but one that I think you should hear. You see we have another member of our team, a lady called Nadia. She's not with us, she's back at our base, organising things there and making things better." Shimazu saw the looks of alarm and concern on the other team member's faces, but ignored them and the shaking head of Aswon. "It's ok – I think Kutara needs to hear this story." Shimazu leant forwards, looking at the Shaman and ignoring the rest of the team for now. "So, we were again far away, over in the edge of Russia, at a place underground. And Nadia went for food, but did not come back…" He recounted the events back at the Quarry, the team going looking for Nadia and meeting Gemini, and of finding out what had nearly happened to Nadia in those dark tunnels. He didn't dwell on that though, swiftly moving on to Marius and the anger he had felt, describing him tooling up for a fight and preparing to wage war upon their enemy, regardless of the consequences for the team afterwards. He went around the team then, adding how each had come along, not seeking confrontation quite as hungrily, but standing together as a team, in defence of one of their own.

More animatedly he recounted the challenge, the fight in the sandy cave between the two combatants. Gesturing to the sleeping form of Hunter he described how the enemy had been ruthlessly and horrifically dealt with, their enemy savaged and humiliated, toyed with and cast aside as being unworthy of their further time.

"We were lucky, you see. We got to Nadia in time, and we could take action. And we did. We avenged her. I'm sorry that we could not have been there for you. But we have heard your story, seen your tale. And now, knowing what we did, you should take some comfort in knowing what we have said. If we find that man, he will face justice. Regardless of what it may cost us. We promise."

Kutara took a deep ragged breath, then let it out slowly. Hearing the story had hurt. His love had not been as lucky as Nadia, had not been rescued in the nick of time. Shimazu had not spared the details though, telling his story regardless of his pain, making him face up to the facts. He took another deep breath, and for a moment felt the touch of his totem, caressing his mind. He thought about the animals in the world, sometimes starving in the winter months, dying of a minor injury that festered and grew. Nature could be unforgiving and harsh, but it was all part of a great cycle.

Another deep breath, and he sat up straighter. His pain was still there but pushed to the side now. A feeling to be examined and dealt with, not a monster that engulfed him. There would be tears still to come, he was sure, but for now he had those feelings mastered. He nodded at Shimazu, passing along his unspoken thanks for the 'tough love'. But looking around the team, he saw the expressions on their faces. Despite being so different, in looks and attitude, he could sense the bond between them. And having heard of their tales and exploits he now had more of a measure of them, recognising that much of what they must have done had been left out. He prided himself on being a good judge of character, a benefit of being a follower of Eagle. Keen eyes and a sense of when deception was afoot, he had not heard of any idle boasts during the stories, no fabrications of fantastical elements. But now when he looked over at them, Shimazu's promise to visit justice on the perpetrator gave him some small measure of comfort and hope. These were dangerous people, and he was glad that Eagle had sent him to negotiate with them and not to stop them…

"Heh… I just realised. Perhaps there's another story to tell. Down across the ocean, before we found the Quoll, there was a smuggler stop we found, and a man called Gwok…" Aswon launched into the tale, and Kutara listened some more. As the tribesman described the cluster of grenades being dropped into the warehouse, he even managed a genuine smile.

Shimazu sat back and studied Kutara carefully, trying to be objective and thinking back to his classes at the university of Alexandria. He certainly seemed to have heard the message that Shimazu had tried to send and though he was no doubt going to have demons to wrestle with in the future, for now he had himself fully under control.

When Aswon had finished his story, Tads started to ask about conditions on the mountains they would be facing tomorrow, and between her and Aswon they established the type of terrain and challenges they would face. From Kutara's description it was to be a harsh ascent, climbing swiftly over some very difficult terrain, the thin air sapping at their strength and dulling their wits, though he seemed far more concerned with the weather. When they had discussed the climb until there was nothing more of value to discover, she went on to revisit his spell used to alter the temperature, asking to study his foci and listen to him as he described how he cast the spell once more. She in turn demonstrated some more food creation, giving him a variety of different foods to test.

One by one the team settled down for the night, taking their usual watches and making the most of the warmth and shelter to rest for the challenges of the next day. The night passed without incident, and the chance to rest and acclimate for half a day had done them all the power of good. In conjunction with a hearty breakfast and more water to drink, they were fully refreshed as they broke camp just before dawn. Aswon, Shimazu, Hunter and Kutara were to climb the mountain and plant the token, while Kai and Marius along with Tads and Vadim stayed with the tilt-wing. Vadim and Tads though would swap out, taking shifts about an hour long to accompany the climbers and keep an astral watch on them. They wouldn't be able to do much to assist them physically if needed, but would be very effective against any magical critters or spirits that decided to attack them.

They set off as soon as the light permitted, climbing around the cliff that had provided their shelter for the night and up onto a large snow field. Aswon climbed first, his spell letting him stick to the rock face with relative ease, trailing a rope behind him. Next up came Hunter, his metallic climbing claws gouging little holes into the rocks and keeping him firmly in place, too. With the two of them at the top of each leg of any climb, they could provide assistance and safety to the other two as they climbed, belaying them up and helping to lift them past difficult sections.

Once on the top they swapped over, Shimazu taking the lead and striding forwards over the surface of the snow, leaving no trace of his passage other than the small holes poked down through the frozen surface as he checked for hidden cervices and sinkholes. One thing they did quickly realise was that the overcast day and threat of a storm was also a blessing in disguise. Without the thick cloud cover, the rays of the sun on the brilliant white snow would soon have blinded them, even those with some form of protection from flares and bright lights either built into their cyber-eyes or granted magically. As it was, the glare was unpleasant, but tolerable.

They climbed, alternating between ice sheets, snow fields and small cliffs or ridges that needed to be climbed, but Kutara guided them well, showing them paths and routes that avoided some tricky areas. After ninety minutes of steady climbing, they reached a huge chasm in the snow, a remnant of some massive avalanche in the past. They rested for a few minutes, eating and drinking to regain some strength and worked out how and where they were crossing.

Once across the crevasse, they pushed on, climbing higher and higher. Now fatigue and the thinner air started to make their presence known, and Aswon had to call out a warning twice, pulling both Hunter and Shimazu back from hidden dangers that he spotted. His years of experience working in rugged terrain in a variety of mercenary outfits proved to be incredibly valuable, saving them from mis-steps and falls. As they climbed on, they rounded one of the peaks and were battered with an onslaught from the wind as they emerged from the lee of the mountains, walking directly into the gale. The snow was compacted enough that it stayed in place, but each of the team could imagine that if they'd been in even light rain, this could have been potentially deadly.

It was just gone noon when Hunter's internal GPS pinged, informing him they had climbed high enough to be inside the drop zone. He looked around the large snow plain they were on and couldn't spot anywhere suitable to place the stone though, instead pointing at a small ridge about three hundred metres away.

"Aim for…those rocks… Plant it there."

They adjusted direction, heading over to the shallow escarpment and soon found a nice split in the rocks that they could jam the token into. Hunter pulled out the small ying-yang covered rock and pushed it firmly into place, wedging it in tightly. As he moved back, Kutara leant in to examine it, peering at the small token with his hands well clear.

"Huh…"

"You spot something? Something magical?" Aswon asked, controlling his breathing carefully.

"No. Just thinking. So small. But represents something so big."

Hunter moved over towards the western edge of the ridge and examined the view. The rise they were on fell away sharply in a cliff face that fell three, maybe four hundred metres a few paces ahead of him, before breaking up and turning into sweeping valleys and ridges that led out to the deep fjords far below and the sound, leading out to the ocean. It was a breath taking view, spectacular and pristine nature stretching out to the horizon over twenty kilometres away, and with what appeared to be unspoilt wilderness on either side of them, as far as the eye could see. He snapped off a few photos from his camera, wincing as he saw the battery level dropping perceptibly in the intense cold caused by the environment. Shimazu and Aswon joined him, standing in silence on either side of him, drinking in the sight as well.

"The storm is coming. We should head down. We'll be hard pressed to make it back by dusk." They turned to Kutara and nodded. Gorgeous as the view was, nobody wanted to think about trying to climb back the way they had come in darkness, no matter how augmented their vision might have been.

The descent proved to be trickier than the climb. They weren't sure if the wind had actually picked up in speed, or if it was just because it was pushing them to go faster rather than them having to lean into it, but it gave them several moments of concern. Shimazu's uncanny ability to walk over the top of the snow almost proved to be his undoing as a massive gust of wind pushed him along, and with almost no friction he slid forwards, his arms windmilling frantically to try and stay upright. As he slid towards a cliff edge he had to throw himself flat onto the ground, rucking up his outer layers and using it as a brake, scooping up snow with arms and legs to stop himself from sliding any further.

Mid afternoon saw them back at the large crevasse, and the returned the way they had came, slowly belaying across on the rope they had left in place. Hunter was the last man over, and as he was almost to the northern side the piton they had driven into the rocks on the upward side gave way. With a dull twang the rope went slack, slingshotting the piton over towards them at high speed. Hunter swung down into the edge of the crevasse like a suicidal pendulum, slamming into the wall heavily, driving the wind out of him. The others grabbed for purchase as the rope pulled them to the edge, almost losing their grip as the piton slammed into the rocks and shattered, sending fragments of metal outwards like a grenade. A moment later, though, they head the grunts of effort coming from over the lip and the scraping and grating sound of metal on rock, followed by a hand thrusting up over the edge as Hunter pulled himself up.

They pushed on, racing down the slopes trying to beat the encroaching darkness. While they were now on the sheltered side of the ridge, cut off from the direct assault of the wind, they were also on the darker side, the setting sun blocked by thousands of tons of rock and snow. Though it was only late afternoon, their northerly position and the season conspired to keep the sun low on the horizon at the best of times, and they struggled on through the gloom. As they crossed the last of the great ice sheets that had made up part of their journey, Shimazu started to slide away from them. This time it wasn't the wind, but the icy surface he stood on that was moving, a huge sheet of ice about forty metres wide starting to move down the slope, picking up speed.

He turned and ran, 'uphill', legs pumping as he tried to counter the slide beneath him. At first he gained, but as the ice accelerated he lost his advantage and struggled to stay in place. The others dug in, stamping down on the snow and trying to brace, getting ready for the rope to snap taught as he was swept along with the avalanche. Just as the rope straightened out and they felt the first tug as his weight hit them, the sheet slid out from under his feet, disappearing north into the darkness, leaving him on freshly exposed snow, panting heavily. Thunder sounded below them as the ice started to break up on the rocks below, digging in and starting a true avalanche that sent thousands of tons of rock, snow and ice tumbling down the mountain.

The rest of their journey, thankfully short, was made without incident, and they crossed down into the basin where the tilt-wing was waiting as true darkness descended. They'd been climbing for more than eight hours and all were exhausted, despite their high levels of fitness. Even though their arms and legs felt leaden, there was also a sense of exaltation at having completed the climb. It was a sobering thought in some ways – a full day to travel about eight kilometres horizontally – something they could have easily run in an hour over more forgiving terrain. But, despite a few close calls, they had made it without injury, and beaten the arrival of the storm too.

"So Kutara. Thank you for being our guide. We were most fortunate to meet you here."

"Indeed, Aswon. What a coincidence. I'm sure the breath-taking view we saw earlier will be something I remember clearly. Most clearly indeed. I could almost describe exactly where we were standing when I saw that view."

"Choose wisely." Aswon nodded at him, not needing to say what about. He was about to say something else when Kai bundled out of the side door, and headed over to them.

"Hey, look. I don't know if you've got signal where you live. Or a phone for that matter. But here's a matrix contract address for us, and some other details."

"Thank you. We don't have phones generally. But the council does. Hmmm." He thought for a moment, then continued, giving the details of the nearest tribal council office to the area his tribe called home. "If you call them, they can take a message, and pass it along to Twin Forks. It might take a few days for someone to be heading in the right direction, but it will get to us. Even if it's just to tell me to get to the council and call you."

Tads jumped down and headed over, handing out freshly conjured sugary donuts to everyone to help get some energy in them, and glared at them until they all tucked in.

"If you're willing to share some details, I'd like to know where your tribe considers home. You may be days away by electronic contact, but if we're still on the continent, I can probably reach you by astral travel in a few hours. That way I can either pass a message on to you directly if I can find you, or let someone know we're sending a message to the council…"

Kutara thought for a few moments then nodded in agreement, and spent a few minutes describing the valley far below where the fast-flowing river split around a stand of massive ancient trees, then split again. The twin forks in the river were distinctive and could be seen from all the mountainsides around, the lush growth surrounding them a result of the yearly spring floods from the rivers that fed down into the valley. A thought occurred to Aswon, and he waited for Kutara to finish, then asked him a question.

"Say, Kutara. We're heading south from here, towards another mountain. We've heard there's uh….great views there, too." He smiled, revealing his fangs and Kutara snorted in amusement. "I think it's called Mount Ratz. Do you know anything about it?" He pulled out his tablet and keyed it alive, then spun it round and showed the position on the map.

"Oh, that's a long way. That's almost over the border! No, sorry, I've never been that far south. I don't think I can help you…" Aswon shrugged, and told him not to worry – it had been a long shot, but worth asking.

The team that had stayed with the tilt-wing had already packed up all the gear and secured it whilst they were waiting, and the team was ready to go. Vadim and Marius climbed out of the chopper to say goodbye, and Kutara worked his way through the team, shaking their hands as he did so – at least until he reached Shimazu. Stepping forwards he wrapped his arms around the big Japanese man. Shimazu tensed, looking slightly uncomfortable as his personal space was invaded, but did nothing to dissuade him or make him stop. As Kutara released him, he clasped him on the shoulders firmly, an emotional 'thank-you' whispered under the sound. With that done he stepped backwards and clapped his hands together loudly and raised his voice.

"Eyes of the Eagle, watch over and protect you, guide you on your journey. Go in peace."

Two minutes later they were in the air, heading north-west, back towards Anchorage. Kai frowned at the map and toggled the radio.

"Uh, Marius. We're going the wrong way?"

"I know. We have to go this way a little until we can reach one of the lower passes. These mountains are high, higher than we can take this craft. It is designed and optimised for low-level insertion, not high-level flight."

"Oh. Oh, right. That's ok then I 'spose."

As they headed around the high peaks, Shimazu gave them a run-down on his vision, filling them in on what he'd seen and felt about Kutara and his family, confirming their suspicions. They fell silent again for a few minutes as they thought about that, each lost in their own minds as they processed their feelings.

As Marius banked sharply to the south-west, it shook them out of their revere, turning them back to their current situation.

"So – where are we looking at next?" Kai asked.

"Five hundred kilometres south from here to the Mount Ratz, which is more or less on the border. Then about seven hundred and fifty kilometres south, all across Tsimshin to the next one, on the southern border." Hunter responded.

"I don't like that at all. From everything I have heard or read, I think we should avoid Tsimshin at all costs. I would favour stopping and refuelling just before we get to the next location, and then once we have placed the stone, retrace our steps and head out over the ocean, and just avoid the country entirely."

"I would agree with Aswon. I see no reason to go there if we can avoid it. The country is supposedly independent, but Mitsuhama have a very strong presence there and many of the local corporations have Mitsuhama guard forces and equipment. They are definitely competent, and I see no reason to court trouble."

"Ok, but what about the smuggler stop? Buck something?" Kai queried.

"We could stop there, it's on an island heading out to sea. I think that was the place we got told to wear a tuxedo…" Tads nodded in confirmation at Aswon's questioning tone. "We could stop and refuel there, but it might be a weird place, and I just have the feeling we'll end up being delayed. I'd rather go around. Maybe visit when we're not under time pressure."

"That sounds fair enough. Ok, so we get close to the next volcano, land somewhere and refuel, and then that does what for us? Supply wise I mean?"

"That will use up about half the supply in the barrels but leave us on full tanks. Gives us a range of over fifteen hundred kilometres, which easily gets us round Tsimshin, including a diversion out to sea, to the next volcano and then onwards to the next smuggler base, with some fuel left over. We don't even need to stop there if we don't want to – we can hop on to Seattle, and that's got anything we'd ever want to buy. As long as we can ghost over the border. THAT is about the only reason to stop and talk to the Cascade Orks I think – they might make that job easier."

"Cascade orks are the ones at El Diablo, right, Aswon?" Kai confirmed. "And the thieving buggers we were warned about. Hmm. Ok – well, maybe we skip there, maybe we just stop for fuel and get out quickly. Maybe we stop and get some help across the border. But that's in two volcano's time, yes? Right. Ok, so Hunter, can you find us a place near the next volcano, and we'll do the fuel thing. Or rather Vadim can do the refuelling…" Vadim's head snapped around to look at Kai with a 'why me?' expression on his face.

"I reckon it's your turn as well, you know…." Aswon added, then smiled lazily. Vadim heard the humour, but also felt the undercurrent of their voices, letting him know they were serious about this. He called forth one of his spirits and then loudly and obviously started to give it instructions in how to refuel an aircraft, giving Tads a quick wink when the others shook their fists at him in mock outrage as he 'delegated' the hard work…

About half-way down the coast they finally met the storm as it raced northwards. One moment the weather was fine, dark and cloudy but nothing but a strong wind. The next the craft dropped thirty metres in a move fit to make a rollercoaster jealous as the wind-shear hit them, while the skin of the tilt-wing was struck with heavy sleet, making it sound like they were in a can full of stones being shaken violently. Visibility dropped to almost nothing within moments and Marius throttled back slightly as he cranked the sensors up to paint the terrain ahead.

About ninety five minutes after leaving Kutara, he angled down to two uninhabited looking islands in the Frederick Sound identified as 'The Brothers', looking for a space on the shoreline where he could set down. On the southern side of the eastern island he spotted a curving cove, somewhat sheltered from the wind and aimed for the end of the shallow beach, putting the bird down smoothly.

For all the joking, Vadim didn't shirk, and grabbed his coat and weapon, before heading to the back of the craft and lowering the ramp. Shimazu came to help him roll the sloshing barrels down the ramp and around to the fuelling port, before retreating back to the ramp to get out of the lashing sleet that hammered down out of the storm that battered at them. Within moments, despite the coat, Vadim was soaked to the skin, water running up the sleeves of his winter parka and down the neck, finding its way in as he methodically worked at the manual pump, transferring fuel into the tank.

"It is fine. Good Russian Weather. Not namby pamby weak stuff. Stronk. All fine…"

Inside, they heard the muttering over the comms system and smiled, then went back to studying the map that Hunter had displayed, looking at the hundred kilometres of terrain between them and Mount Ratz, volcano number eleven on their tour of the Ring of Fire.