Japan.”
“Well, I think we’re going to find the special cave that belongs to the house of the fox. Watch out, the ceiling’s getting lower.”
“How wonderful,” Mariko said. “I was getting so comfortable.”
Catherine crouched down farther, so she was walking in an awkward half squat. The air was close, and Catherine was glad Mariko didn’t get claustrophobic.
“When Briac told you this, were you clothed?” Mariko asked. “Or had he managed to get you out of your undergarments?”
Only a fellow Seeker would make light of Briac attacking Catherine. Their constant brutal training allowed them to find humor in something that was not at all funny.
“Ha ha,” Catherine responded. “No, he told me about the caves before I broke his nose for trying to get at my undergarments.”
“I hope he tries again and you disable his manhood permanently with a swift, sharp kick. My father has trained me how to kick a man to ensure you will never have trouble from him again. Perhaps I should have steel-toed boots made for you, so you’re ready, Cat?”
“If you hate Briac so much, how can you stand to be around Alistair? They stick together, those two.” Catherine was using her free hand to pull herself along the low tunnel wall now.
“Are we crawling to hell?” Mariko asked.
“We must be nearly to the end. I feel a breeze.” She did feel a breeze, but in the beam of her flashlight the tunnel continued. What if there was nothing at the end and they had to back out the whole way? What if she was in the wrong location entirely?
Before Catherine could go too far down that line of thought, Mariko interrupted, picking up the thread of their conversation. “Briac and Alistair have been friends since they were small, and Alistair is loyal, but he’s nothing like Briac.” Catherine smiled at the fierce devotion she heard in her friend’s voice. “Alistair is kind—and so handsome, don’t you think?” Mariko added.
Catherine made a noncommittal sound. In her mind, Alistair’s friendship with Briac counterbalanced his looks.
“He’s a true gentleman,” Mariko went on a little dreamily. “Although…he’s not always gentle.”
Catherine stopped and turned the flashlight back on Mariko. Her pretty friend blinked at her innocently in the light.
“Have you and he—already, Mariko?” she asked.
“Well, not entirely,” Mariko answered, looking embarrassed. “My parents would be most displeased if I did that.”
“That’s one thing you and I have in common,” Catherine agreed, turning back and continuing on. Mariko’s parents were strict beyond all Western comprehension, but Catherine’s parents weren’t far behind. Centuries had passed since arranged marriages were popular in England, yet her parents had not quite caught on. “My mother and father seem to think they own me entirely, body and mind. They’ll be choosing the boys, and also which questions of mine deserve to be answered. Mostly they choose to answer none.”
Mariko sighed. “My parents don’t know the answers to any interesting questions. They gave up on Seeker lore generations ago.” Mariko was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “My mother’s been introducing me to Japanese boys all summer, so they can settle on a match. Several have been quite attractive, fortunately.”
“Boys from Seeker families?”
“No, no. Sending me to the estate for training is only a family tradition. My father wanted me to be trained, he wanted me to take my oath. But he doesn’t expect more involvement than that. Our family athame has been gone for so many generations. I suppose he imagines it might magically reappear one day, and I should be prepared just in case.”
Catherine and Mariko had both taken their Seeker oaths before the summer. They’d gone on one assignment—to break an old Seeker out of a prison in Africa—and then they’d been called home, Mariko to Hong Kong and Catherine to England. Mariko had come to visit Catherine in London a few days earlier, and it was the first time they’d seen each other since leaving the estate.
“So…do you have to marry one of these boys, Mariko-chan?” Catherine asked her.
“Probably.” She sounded resigned and less upset than Catherine would have expected. “But…Alistair. His hair, Cat-chan, his shoulders. When he holds me, it’s like I’m being embraced by a battle robot.”
Catherine laughed at what she could only think of as a very Japanese description. “When you put it that way, I can understand the attraction,” she said. But privately she didn’t understand. They’d known Alistair for years; it seemed silly to be so smitten by a boy they’d watched grow up.
“Please tell me that’s