EL-HAZARD : MORTAL ENGINES

                        by Alan Harnum

                 Chapter Six - Metamorphosen
           
El-Hazard is a copyright of AIC/Pioneer LDC.  This story, 
however, belongs to me, and I request that you don't publicly
post or archive it without my permission.  

This copy of the story is from my centralized fanfiction archive
at http://www.thekeep.org/~harnums/fanfic.  I can be reached by
e-mail at harnums@thekeep.org

* * *

     "I will kill you now."
     
     Makoto realized that he had to move, or he would die.  So he
moved.  Not, he hoped, quite as the Demon-God would expect him 
to.  It had stepped down from its perch on the figurehead now, 
and stood only a few steps from him near the prow of the 
Godswind.  The razor-sharp tines of the trident were crackling 
with power as it built up the energy for a blast.

     Calmly, almost coldly, Makoto walked forward and brought 
the Power-Key Staff up in a sweeping motion, so that the 
connecting prongs at the base came into contact with the tines of
the trident.  Cobalt lightning leapt up the Power-Key staff and 
wreathed him in a sizzling corona.  His eyes locked with the 
centre of the Demon-God's empty face, as if he could stare 
straight through it, straight down into its soul.
     
     And he synchronized with Lethiaphan.  The whirlpool sucked 
him down into the depths of the ocean, into the ancient being of
the Demon-God.  Inside was cold as ice.  It was the surface of a 
glacier, gleaming and smooth and cold.

     The memories flew at him by the thousands, as though he hung
suspended in the ocean while multi-coloured fish swam by him.  
     
     Jigsaw-puzzle pieces of broken glass...
     
     He destroyed a Tirian fleet in a single day, disabling and
sinking the ships, killing the soldiers as they desperately tried 
to keep themselves afloat.  The visages of all he ever killed 
were kept and savoured, gathered like other men collect stamps.  
Here a sailor of Awar with six gold rings through his left ear 
and a scar on his right cheek that twisted his mouth, and here a 
child playing on the pier of the city of Kalam-Laphri when the 
tidal wave he sent washes away half the city, and here a woman 
fair as starlight, a Royal Consort of Zalambar, drowning in the 
wreckage of her pleasure boat because she cannot swim, and here--

     Makoto's sense of self wavered, nearly fell.  The soul of
Lethiaphan was like a black hole, pulling him down within.  He
saw the heart of the Demon-God, the ocean king, and he screamed
in terror.  Mardruk and Ifurita had possessed feelings, emotions,
regrets--stunted, albeit, but they had been there, like seeds
buried beneath frozen earth, waiting to bloom, to flower into the
fully glory...  Lethiaphan had _nothing_; its heart was a void 
held in the semblance of form, driven only by the need to obey 
orders, and a vague enjoyment of killing so basic as to be almost
instinctual.

     Wrong, no heart.  Ifurita had said that, but it had not been
true, there had been a heart within her, buried beneath the scars
of war, but there was nothing here, no feelings of doubt or guilt
or sorrow for him to appeal to.  The endless ocean of the Demon-
God's heart was colder than winter; he floated through it,
drowning in the terrible ancientness, kicking for the light and
air at the top but only driving himself further downwards.
     
     Air...
     
     And the contact was severed in an instant.  In the 
transition between the two worlds, that of his own self and that
awful world of memory within the Demon-God, he felt the wind
nearly tear the Power-Key Staff from his hands as it picked up
and hurled Lethiaphan from the boat so that the Demon-God plunged
like a cannonball into the ocean a hundred feet away.

     "Makoto!  You okay?  Speak to me!"
     
     He blinked.  "Fujisawa-sensei?"
     
     Nanami looked down at him; there were strong, rough hands
cradling the back of his head--Fujisawa-sensei's.  "Makoto, you
were screaming as if you were going to die as soon as you made
contact with it.  What happened?"
     
     Afura strode over, a pale-green aura of air swirling about
her.  "Whatever happened, that one blast won't have taken care 
of it, if Ifurita is any sign."

     "Where's Shayla and Miz?" Makoto whispered.
     
     "Miz is trying to help the men in the water who are still
alive," Fujisawa answered.  "Shayla's here."

     "Hey, Makoto."  Shayla stepped into view.  "Did you set that
one free too?"

     The mere thought sent a wave of terror through him.  "No!"
he answered sharply.  Lowering his voice, he said, "If he were
set free, he would kill until there was nothing left alive.  He's
not like Ifurita.  He enjoys it."  He reached up and clutched 
Fujisawa's arm.  "Fujisawa-sensei, the ocean is his element.  
He's a match for you all here.  We can't--"

     Fujisawa stood up, slowly, letting Makoto lie down on the
deck of the ship.  "We don't have a choice, kid."

     Distantly, the sounds of ship cannons firing reached 
Makoto's ears, and then the screams of men.  "I've got to make
sure Miz is okay," Fujisawa muttered, and then he crouched and
sprang, vanishing over the side of the boat.

     Makoto struggled to his feet, supporting himself with the
Power-Key Staff.  Nanami and Shayla each grabbed an arm to
steady him.  A glare passed between them as they did--Makoto
wondered why.

     The crew of the Godswind were bustling all around the ship
now, manning weapons or making other preparations.  With Nanami
and Shayla's help, Makoto walked to the edge and stared off in
the direction Afura's blast had flung Lethiaphan.

     "He hasn't surfaced yet," Afura said worriedly, crossing her
arms.  

     "He will," Makoto assured her in a raspy, fearful voice. 
     
* * * 

     Miz lowered her hands and sighed with relief.  Air pockets
created by water manipulation had now sealed the damaged hulls of 
the two ships that had collided, preventing them from sinking.  
The crew were helping those who had fallen overboard back onto 
the deck.  From her position, she hadn't been able to see much of 
what had occured on the Godswind; thankfully, Afura's blast had 
flung the Demon-God very far from here.

     The cutter she was on began to turn.  The remaining ships 
were forming a defensive circle.  She resisted the urge to tell
them it was futile.  Against other ships, it might be useful.
Against a Demon-God, it would be of no help.

     At least this one didn't have the power of Ifurita.  She
probably could have annihilated all the boats with one sweep of
her arm.  What it did have had been enough to destroy two boats
and almost cripple two others, however--it was certainly not to
be taken lightly.

     The commander of the cutter came up behind her and clapped
her on the shoulder.  "You saved those ships, honoured priestess.
We are most grateful."

     She gave him a brief smile.  "It was my duty as a Muldoon
priestess."  

     Touching her ring to her lips, she closed her eyes and 
concentrated, letting her consciousness open and make contact 
with the waters all around.

     A second later, her eyes snapped open, and she gasped.

     "Right in front?  How can that--"
     
     Her words ended as the Demon-God rose grim and silent from 
the sea, and walked upon it as if it were the land.  The crew of 
the cutters fired immediately.  Right before the shells hit, Miz
saw the Demon-God gesture with its trident, and the ocean leapt 
up, forming protective walls all around it.  The shells exploded 
harmlessly against the swirling barrier of water.

     "Neat trick," Miz called.  "But I can do it too."
     
     She leapt from the boat as it turned to present its
broadside to the Demon-God, and landed upon the water.  Walking
on water was one of the first things she'd been taught to do as a
priestess, and she was so used to it that the strange feeling of 
rolling solidity no longer bothered her.

     The faceless war machine stood unmoving upon the surface of
the waves for a moment, and then began to walk towards her.  It
raised the spike of its hand, and the blades began to whirl.

     "Ha!"
     
     With a gesture of her hands, the sea rose on both sides, and
a knife-edged wave of water swept forth.  It built as it crossed
the distance between them, growing stronger and faster with each
passing second.  As it was about to hit the Demon-God, it 
wavered, and dissolved into a spray of fine mist.  The whirling
blades upon its arm sucked the spray into themselves, and
concentrated the great mass of water into a single fist-sized ball
whose density she could not begin to guess at.  The ball hung
motionless a few inches beyond the circling blades, forks of
electricity running through.

     "Simple manipulation of water molecules," it said 
tonelessly.  "Now I shall show you complex manipulation."

     Those were Ifurita's words.  A coincidence, or had it 
somehow--
     
     The Demon-God gestured; dozens of tendrils speared off from
the water-ball and dove like serpents into the ocean.  The sea
stirred around Miz, and then came alive.  Gigantic malformed 
fists, attached to vaguely defined arms, rose up and swung at 
her.  Barely in time, she managed to get a barrier up, but the 
effort of holding it strong against the continual battering was 
immense.

     Thankfully, she didn't have to do it long.  A few seconds,
as the fists hammered at her shield, and then it stopped.  She
dropped the shield, and saw the trident stabbing at her.  The
Demon-God stood only a step away, the trident was aimed at her
heart, and she was dead, she realized in a single cold fragment
of terror, dead--

     Masamichi hit the Demon-God in mid-leap, his foot extended.
The crash as his kick hit it in the head was thunderous.  Both of
them were driven to the side by the impact.  The trident missed
her.  Miz let out the breath she'd been holding.

     He was going to sink.  The Demon-God might be able to walk
upon the water, but Masamachi certainly wasn't.  Which would, she
realized, explain why his second action was to throw one arm 
around the back of the Demon-God's neck, wrap his legs around its
torso, and begin hammering it in the head with punches while
yelling battle cries at the top of his lungs.  A cloudy haze of 
power began to become visible around him, as the Demon-God's head 
snapped back and forth as though spring-loaded.  He seemed to be 
holding his own--no surprise, really, Masamichi really _was_ 
quite a man.

     He stopped hitting it.  The head flopped limply to one side.
Masamichi grabbed it by the throat and strained; she could see
the muscles bulging in his arm, even through his clothing.

     Dear God, she thought with a curious mix of elation and
fear, he's going to rip its head off.

     Abrubtly, the two of them dropped beneath the surface.  The
Demon-God had ceased to let the water buoy its feet.  For a few
seconds, Miz was certain that her heart stopped beating.  The
ships were fairly distant now; far away, the boat that had been
flipped over was slowly sinking.

     Afura's voice intruded.  "Miz!"
     
     Miz looked up.  Her fellow priestess came flying down, 
stopping a few feet above the water, which depressed and swirled
like a tiny whirlpool in reaction to her wind-aura.  "Where's 
Lethiaphan?"

     "Lethiaphan?"
     
     "The Demon-God."
     
     "Masamichi..."
     
     The sea exploded.  A towering flume of water rose.  And 
rose.  Two struggling figures could be vaguely seen within the 
mist and spray, but Miz could not tell which was which.  Dread 
filling her, she brought her arms up.  The water around her 
depressed like a crater, as an almost identical flume lifted her 
up to into the sky.  Afura rose beside her in a shroud of air.

     As she reached the same level as the other flume, she saw
Lephiathan ram its spiked hand into Masamichi's side.  Time 
seemed to slow down.  A scream began, rose, and died in her 
throat in less than second.

     The blades opened.  The most awful sound Miz had ever heard,
a wet, grating, steel-on-bone scream, filled the air.  Blood, so
much blood it seemed impossible, sprayed through the air and fell
to the ocean in a crimson rain.  
     
     Masamichi fell the long fall towards the sea, and dropped 
below the waves in utter stillness.

     "Miz!"  Afura's voice reached her, somehow, in the isolation
of her grief.  "Go after him!  I'll hold it off!"

     Miz said nothing.  She released her hold upon the water and
dropped.  As she fell, she twisted, turning over and pointing her
arms out in a dive.  The salty water was shockingly cold as she
hit.  

     Help me find him, she asked the ocean.  Where is he?
     
     Down.  Drifting slowly towards the bottom, leaving a cloud
of blood behind him.  Miz forced herself to swallow her tears,
and went after him.

* * *
     
     Afura threw a quick one-two combination of air bursts, but
Lethiaphan was prepared this time, and dropped from the top of 
its water column and out of the way.  The attacks caught the
collapsing remnants of the flume, and sprayed wide swathes of
water over the ocean.

     Even as the Demon-God hit the water, it was rising up again
towards her upon another flume of swirling water.  Afura twisted,
and the blasts of water, so concentrated and high-pressure that
they likely would have cut her in half, missed her by a wide 
margin.  

     Rising higher into the sky, Afura brought her arms down to 
the sides.  A funnel-shaped column of wind swept down from the
sky high above her, and what was for all purposes a miniature
tornado engulfed Lethiaphan.  Afura gritted her teeth; this was 
dangerous, both to her and to anyone around.  If she lost
control...

     Vaguely, she realized that Fujisawa was probably dead.  It
just didn't seem to have registered yet.  In training, she'd
always had to endure the jokes that she'd be better off as an ice
priestess.  In a battle like this, she had to be cold, sharp as a
blade, or she was dead.  Nearly had been dead after she'd
underestimated Ifurita.  Mere whim had been all that prevented
the Demon-God from killing her then, and Miz and Shayla along
with her.

     Round and round Lethiaphan spun, trapped within the 
tornado.  Afura gestured with her fingers and the speed 
increased, until the wind became sharp as blades.  The Demon-God
was a vague, blurred figure behind the swirling walls of wind.

     Something shot down from the bottom of the whirlwind, almost
too fast for her to see.  The trident.  It struck the ocean, and
the sea rose up in a column, twisting in unison with the motions
of her tornado, until the two had joined, and a waterspout had
engulfed Lethiaphan.

     Her eyes widened.  "No..."
     
     The waterspout exploded.  Hundreds of balls of high-density
water flew from it in all directions, battering against her like 
massive hailstones.  They smashed painfully against her 
shoulders, her stomach, her exposed face.  Afura tried
desperately to stay in the air and protect herself at the same
time, but it was futile; the balls just kept on coming, 
hammering her like rocks, until she cried out in pain and lost
control, falling down towards the ocean as they continued to hit
her.  At the last moment, she managed to twist into a dive and
slow herself, hitting the sea in such a way that the impact 
didn't break her back.

     Gasping, barely able to move her arms and legs because of
the pain of so many bruises, she kicked her way to the surface
seconds later and swallowed desperate gulps of air.  The 
Demon-God was a distant shape, speeding across the ocean towards 
the ships.  Afura tried to raise the strength in herself to fly,
but her body hurt so much.  Finally, almost sobbing with 
frustration and pain, she tread water to keep herself afloat, as
the sound of cannon-fire rose from the ships.

* * *

     "Crap!  Here it comes again!"
     
     Makoto touched Shayla's elbow.  "What happened to Afura and
Miz?  Fujisawa-sensei?"

     "I can't see," Shayla snapped.  "They're too far.  They all
went into the water, I guess."

     Makoto paled.  Shayla softened her voice.  "They're okay,
I'm sure.  If they survived Ifurita, they'll survive this."

     "Ifurita didn't like killing," Makoto muttered.
     
     Shayla bit back a reply.  Makoto said that Ifurita was
rehabilitated now, and that was good enough for her.  They could
argue about it later, maybe, if they lived through this.

     "They're all in the water," Nanami said distantly.  "They're
all alive."

     Shayla turned on her.  "What?  How do you know?"
     
     Nanami blinked.  "I saw.  It's not that far."
     
     "Must've not been paying attention," Shayla muttered darkly.
She turned her attention back to the Demon-God.  As it came
closer, the cannons of the ships fired; explosive shells struck
the sea and shot up massive sprays of water, but she knew none of
them would come close.  It was like trying to kill a mosquito 
with a scimitar.
     
     Makoto grimaced as if he were feeling ill.  "It's coming for
me again.  It can sense Ifurita's Key."  The ships fired again;
the speeding form of the Demon-God was barely visible on the 
waves, darting between the explosions.  "I think it thinks I'm...
like it."

     "Well," Shayla snarled, "it goes through me first."
     
     The two closest cutters were suddenly engulfed by spinning
columns of water.  When the columns fell, the decks were swept
clean of crew.  The boats began to sink, dozens of tiny holes
punched in their hulls. 
     
     Then the wave hit the Godswind.  A few feet taller than the 
deck of the ship, it smashed down atop them with Lethiaphan 
riding the crest.  Shayla heard panicked screams, and was 
tumbled heels over head by the impact of the water.  She ended up 
against the railing, much luckier than the men swept overboard. 
Disoriented and shaking, she stumbled to her feet.  Makoto and 
Nanami were down near the entrance to the lower decks that Fatora 
and Alielle had retreated to.  He was on his feet, but Nanami was 
prone and unmoving, and Shayla assumed she'd struck her head on 
something.

     Lethiaphan stood only a few feet away from them, sea-slick
and filled with terrible purpose.  It strode forward, and even as
Shayla cried out and charged for its back, the trident was 
speeding forward at Makoto's throat.

     He blocked.  She had no idea he could move so fast.  The
Power-Key Staff came up in his hands, shaft catching between two
of the trident's tines as he parried.  Nanami still wasn't 
moving.  

     Ten feet from Lethiaphan, raising her hand to throw fire,
Shayla slipped in a puddle and landed on her back.  It was so 
ridiculous, so stupid, that she hoped she would be able to laugh 
about it later.  The Demon-God twisted the trident, and the 
Power-Key was flung away to clatter upon the deck.
     
     "That was pointless," it said.
     
* * *

     Jinnai's heart beat faster than usual as they approached the
ring of ships.  Of the eleven that Lethiaphan had mentioned, four
of them were nowhere to be seen, and another two were clearly
crippled.  

     Deva, hands tight on the railings, leaned forward and 
scanned the area.  "It's on the flagship.  It appears to be
confronting your rival."

     "What?"  Jinnai's head snapped up as he buried his tumultous
thoughts.  "Excellent!"

     "He appears to be protecting your sister."
     
     Jinnai gripped the staff he'd recently obtained as though he
would snap it in half.  A low growl rose in his throat.  "He
takes everything from me," he snarled at last.  "My rightly-
deserved place as the greatest student at Shinnonome, my victory,
my first Demon-God..."

     "Rather brave," Deva commented.  "But apparently quite 
stupid."

     "Bring the ship in closer!  Bugrom, prepare to board!"
     
     Deva frowned.  "They appear to be aiming their cannons at 
us."

     "Then begin evasive maneuvers!"  
     
     They were close enough now that he could see the deck of the 
flagship.  Makoto had his arms spread, and was standing in front
of Nanami's fallen body, between her and the Demon-God.  Jinnai 
took a breath through his dry throat.  Had it already been too 
late?  Lethiaphan was going to impale Makoto on its trident, or 
maybe go by him for his sister... he couldn't tell.  He wavered 
for a second.  The trident thrust forward.

     "Lethiaphan!  Your master commands you to halt!"
     
     And stopped an inch from Makoto's throat.  Jinnai cursed
under his breath as he landed on the deck of the ship, perched on
Groucho's back.  

     Lethiaphan turned around.  "Master?"
     
     Makoto stared past the Demon-God at Jinnai with wide eyes.
"Katsuhiko, why did you..."

     The sound of cannons firing reached Jinnai's ears.  Too many
things seemed to be going on at once.  Shayla-Shayla was getting
back on her feet, for one.  The crew were also beginning to take 
an interest in him and the Bugrom, for another.

     Fortunately, Jinnai thought fast on his feet.  "Lethiaphan!
Protect us!"

     The Demon-God cleared the distance between them in one leap,
and landed to face the crew and Shayla.  It raised its spike; the
blades opened, spun a few thousand rotations in a second to 
concentrate moisture from the air, and bolts of water flew across 
the deck of the ship, knocking down both the crew and the fire 
priestess.

     Makoto, the little sneak, had run and grabbed up Ifurita's
familiar Power-Key.  A twinge of rage went through Jinnai at the
sight, but he suppressed it.  It was like swallowing bile.  He 
could deal with Makoto later; right now, Lethiaphan was needed to 
protect his escape.  
     
     Deva's voice reached him over the sound of the cannons.  
"Mr. Jinnai, if you could please hurry?"

     Jinnai pointed.  "Groucho!  Get my sister!"
     
     The blue Bugrom made a great leap over the heads of the crew
and Shayla, scooped Nanami up under one arm, and leapt back.  

     "Back to the ship!" Jinnai cried.  "Lethiaphan, guard our
retreat, then join us!"

     Back on the ship, Jinnai sent Groucho to take Nanami below,
then surveyed the situation.  The smaller ships were beginning to
circle his boat, cannons firing as they did.  Deva, at the wheel,
was proving herself fairly skilled at avoiding them.  

     "Go!" he said.  "Lethiaphan, to me!"
     
     The Demon-God landed on the back of the ship, as it turned
around and began to head back the way it had come.  Jinnai ran to
the stern and yelled back at the flagship.

     "Hear me!" he cried.  "You've seen the power of my new 
Demon-God!  All who pursue us will be destroyed by the power of
Lethiaphan!"
     
     He leaned over to the Demon-God and said quietly, 
"Annihilate the next ship that fires on us."

     "Yes, master."
     
     A cannon-shell whizzed over their heads and exploded in the 
water in front of them, throwing up waves that rocked the boat 
slightly.  A few drops of spray lashed against Jinnai's face, and
he wiped them away with a frown as he glanced pointedly at the
Demon-God.

     Lethiaphan gestured with his trident.  A ripple cut through 
the sea, a tiny disturbance that grew exponentially until it 
became a towering, razor-thin edge of water--bearing no small 
resemblance to a gigantic shark fin--that ripped the boat in half 
down the middle.

     The firing stopped.
     
     Jinnai stood at the stern, hands on his hips, and laughed.
     
     "Seems like you lost that battle, Makoto!" he called.  
     
     Then, still chuckling, he went down below to see his sister.
     
* * *

     Bubbles.  There were bubbles all around him, he could feel
them hitting and bursting against his skin like tiny snowflakes,
but he couldn't open his eyes to see them, couldn't move his
hands to catch them, drifting down through the snowflakes...

     Was this what it was like to die?
     
     Snow... he remembered snow falling outside the classroom
window, the students not paying attention to the lesson because
they were watching it, him not caring because he was watching 
too... Makoto and Nanami sharing some joke together, laughing...

     Drift.

     Snow... continuities, cherry blossoms falling in the spring,
a summer rainshower, leaves dropping in autumn...     
     
     It was so cold he couldn't even breathe, or maybe he was 
cold because he couldn't breathe, and it _was_ very dark down
here.  He struggled to remember what had happened.  

     Oh yeah.  The part where he got the left side of his chest
ripped apart.  Didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would.
Kinda numb, really.

     His fist hurt, though.  Demon-Gods had hard heads.
     
     It would have been nice if he could open his eyes and 
actually see where the hell he was.  That seemed to be beyond 
him, though.  

     His life was supposed to flash before his eyes, or 
something.  But all he was able to do was keep on remembering
that one day in class, with the snow falling outside, Makoto and
Nanami laughing, Katsuhiko sitting in the corner by himself,
brooding, such a terrible thing, but look how Nanami turned out,
you couldn't just blame one thing, no matter how terrible it was,
there was something wrong with the boy from the start...

     Sorry, Miz, he thought vaguely.
     
     Shouldn't he be dead by now?  
     
     He hit bottom, and his eyes opened.  
     
     It was dark, but not so dark that he couldn't see.  Fish
swam all around him, and strange and unfamiliar undersea plants
waved their fronds in the slow ocean currents.  High above, he
could see light.

     His side, where Lethiaphan had torn him up, still felt numb.
Hesitantly, he touched it.  His shirt was torn to shreds, but his
skin was whole.  Smooth, even, and hairless as a child's.

     My God, he thought, his mind reeling with shock, what's
happening to me?  And then: when was the last time I took a
breath?
     
     He must have instinctively held his breath when he went
under the water, but even after what must have been at least a
minute without oxygen, he didn't feel any of the familiar 
pressure in his lungs and throat that meant he'd soon be opening
his mouth and gasping for air underwater.

     Fujisawa stood up on the sandy bottom of the ocean, and saw
Miz descending towards him.  Her arms were out to the sides, as
though she were holding up the sides of the luminescent bubble 
that surrounded her and held back the water.  Even from here, he 
could see that she was crying.

     With a push of his legs, he leapt up from the bottom, clouds
of sand rising as he did.  Breaking through the membrane of the
bubble, which clung tight to his body like a second skin to keep
it airtight, was an odd feeling.  

     As soon as he was inside, Miz threw her arms around his neck
and began attempting to cry and talk at the same time.  "Oh thank
God, Masamichi, I thought you were dead, there was so much blood
and you didn't come back up..."

     Awkwardly, he patted her on the back.  Her shoulders 
trembled under his palm.  "I'm okay, Miz."

     One of her hands drifted down and gingerly probed at his
side as they stood upon the yielding yet solid surface of the
bubble's interior.  A mild flush rose to his face as he felt her
fingers drifting over the oddly sensitive new skin.

     "Impossible..." she said softly.  "I saw you... the 
blood..."

     "Don't forget," he replied.  "I'm not a normal man."
     
     Somehow, Miz found a way to tighten her embrace.  "My God, I
though I'd lost you.  I really did.  And then I saw you standing
up... this is a sign, you know.  I'm a priestess.  I'm trained to
interpret signs."

     "It's a sign I've got to be more damn careful when taking on
Demon-Gods, at least," Fujisawa muttered.

     Miz, head on his shoulder, didn't seem to hear him.  "God is
watching over us, Masamichi.  We're meant to be together."

     A large number of fish, bright-coloured and small, had begun
to gather around the gently-bobbing bubble.  Unblinking eyes
stared with blank incomprehension at the two of them.
     
     Somewhat reluctantly, Fujisawa gently removed Miz's arms 
from around his neck.  "Let's go back up, Miz," he said.  "The
others probably need our help."

     The bubble began to swiftly rise from the depths, and the
startled fish swam away to hide among the sand and plants at the
bottom of the sea.

* * *
     
     Makoto slumped heavily in the chair, the Power-Key Staff
across his lap.  Like all the other furniture in the cabin, it
was bolted down so as not to slide across the floor as the ship
moved.

     "We've got to go after her," he said, and not for the first
time.  "God only knows what could happen to her in Jinnai's 
hands."

     "He won't hurt her," Fujisawa said.  He was sitting close to
Miz on a wooden bench built into one wall of the cabin.  "I think 
that's why he came back.  He sent that... thing after us, and 
then thought of her."

     Shayla, who was helping the battered Afura hold a damp cloth
to the numerous bruises on her face, snorted loudly.  "You really
think that little sneak wouldn't throw her life away if he 
thought it would help him conquer El-Hazard?"

     "You'd be surprised how deep blood-ties can go, no matter
who both of you are," Fatora said quietly.  She'd only just
entered the cabin, having been in conversation with the captain
of the Godswind before that.  Her voice rose slightly, as a 
frown came onto her face.  "Or maybe he just wants a hostage."

     "We _have_ to rescue Nanami!" Alielle insisted, a small
tremble in her voice.  "Fatora..."

     "I'll be able to convince them to give you one of the 
cutters," Fatora said confidently.  "But they aren't going to do
more than that."  Her face darkened, and took on the most serious 
expression Makoto had ever seen her have in the short time he'd 
known her.  "A lot of people died out here because I asked for so
many."

     "You couldn't have known what was going to happen," Makoto
said.

     "Actually..." Shayla began, then stopped.
     
     Everyone turned to look at her. 
     
     "What is it, Shayla?" Miz asked.
     
     "Nanami said the one casting the illusions on Jinnai's boat
had a staff that looked kind of like Ifurita's..."

     The sound of Fatora's teeth grinding was audible to 
everyone.  "And you didn't tell us this for what reason?"

     "It just sort of slipped our minds," Shayla snapped back
defensively.  "We rushed back and then you got into those 
meetings with the Senate, and the next thing we knew we were on
the boats."  A stricken expression had come onto her face that
her anger couldn't conceal.  Makoto could practically see the
thoughts going through her head.

     "If they'd had control of Lethiaphan in the harbour, they
would have used it then," he interjected, before things went any
further.  "You were far away.  Maybe Nanami was mistaken."

     "Maybe she wasn't," Fatora said acidly.
     
     Makoto clenched his hands around the Power-Key.  "Jinnai had
a staff in his hands when he came aboard.  And Lethiaphan had a
trident, not a staff."

     "So maybe he's got two of them," Fujisawa said.  A dead
silence fell over the room.  The teacher looked around and
scratched his jaw uncomfortably.  "I mean, it's a possibility,
isn't it?"

     "The one we know he has is more than enough," Afura mumbled, 
her bruised jaw obviously making it difficult and painful to
speak.  "Especially on the sea like this."

     "There's something wrong about all this."  Makoto got out of
the chair and paced the room, keeping the Power-Key tightly in
his hands.  "I synchronized with Lethiaphan the first time it
came aboard the Godswind, and it--"

     "Why do we keep on using 'it'," Shayla broke in.  "It's
clearly male."

     Makoto shook his head.  "That's what I was getting to.  It
isn't.  It doesn't even have a developed sense of identity like
Ifurita and..."  He decided then not to mention Mardruk--let the
wounded Demon-God lie in as much peace as he could.  "And there's 
nothing there.  Ifurita had a sense of self, even thought it was
stunted, and I think I..."  Helpessly, he gestured with his free
hand, unable to express the concept in words as clearly as he 
understood it in his heart.  "I made it grow, somehow."

     Sighing, he sank back into the chair.  "It was holding back.
It could have killed me, and it didn't.  And I don't understand
why--not like I understand why Ifurita held back when she 
attacked the palace."

     "Interesting as all this speculation is, it doesn't help us
find Nanami," Afura said.  She let out a pained groan as Shayla
moved the cloth to another of her bruises.  "Any ideas on how to 
do that?"

     Makoto hesitated, then nodded.  "I think if I concentrate, I
can get a sense of Lethiaphan's position from our 
synchronization."

     "Did you do that before, with Ifurita?" Miz asked.
     
     "No," Makoto answered.  "But I think..."
     
     "The powers we got in the passage from Earth are changing,"
Fujisawa said.  "At least, mine are.  That thing tore me up, and
a few minutes later I was as good as new."

     "Thank God," Miz said, almost too quietly to be heard.
     
     Fatora stood abruptly to her feet.  "I'm going to go talk to
the captain again.  Come along, Alielle."  Once the two had left 
the cabin, conversation resumed.
     
     "So we catch up to them, and then what?"  Shayla's voice was
almost derisive.  "That thing tears us to pieces.  If it destroys
the boat, it won't even need to kill us.  Even Miz can't keep us
afloat forever."

     "This isn't another Ifurita," Fujisawa said.  "It's tough."
Almost unconciously, he touched his side.  "But I don't think 
it's unbeatable.  If we come at it with a plan, we might just be
able to take it down.  And no matter how hopeless it seems, I
have to try--Nanami is my student, and still my responsibility."

     Afura spoke up.  "Makoto, if you can synchronize with it
again, isn't there a possibility you'd be able to shut it down?
Send it into dormancy, like Ifurita was when you first found 
her?"

     Or, Makoto thought, like he'd done to Mardruk after he'd
spoken to him.  "Yes, I think I could."  Had he thought quicker
during his synchronization with Lethiaphan, he would have tried 
it then.  "But I'd have to touch it."

     "So we have a plan, then."  Shayla grinned.  "We keep it
occupied, and get Makoto close enough to shut it down.  Then--"
She punched her fist into her palm with a resounding smack.
"--payback time for Jinnai, the Bugrom, and the Phantom Tribe.  
All at once."

     Makoto remained silent as the priestesses and Fujisawa began
to enthusiastically discuss battle scenarios.  A sense of 
foreboding hung over him, but he refused to worry the others by
sharing it.

* * *

     Even before he hit the water, Nahato was readying himself 
for the struggle to live.  His arms were bound by the Bugrom
Queen's threads, but unlike Lemulla, they had left his legs free.

     Though he tried to twist so that he entered feetfirst, 
Deva's toss made him hit the water in an awkward, painful 
bellyflop that knocked all the air from his body.  Instinctively
he gasped for air, and a wave washed over him, pouring water down
his throat and into his lungs.  He choked and his head dipped
below the water.  Frantic kicks of his legs barely managed to 
drive him back above the surface, where he attempted to tread the
water around him, and expel the water inside him, at the same 
time.  The boat was already distant, carrying the Staff of Deeper
Shadows with it.
     
     With his arms awkwardly constricted, treading water was an
effort he wouldn't be able to keep up for long.  He might be able
to float if he had to, but he had heard there were certain 
predators in the Sea of Tears...

     "Lemulla!" he called.  The silent desolation of the ocean
echoed his words back.  Bound from head to foot, Lemulla would
have sunk like a stone.

     Hot tears stung his eyes.  He blinked them back.  No, he
would _not_ cry like a child, he would go beyond that.  He was 
not going to die here, in the middle of the ocean.  Jinnai, the
Bugrom, Queen Deva, all of them were going to pay.  

     "By shadow, night and pit," he swore.  "I will make them
suffer in ways they cannot imagine."  It was no hollow threat; 
the hate felt like molten metal in his gut.

     For some minutes, he floated in silence.  His bound arms
began to go numb.  The numbness began to spread to the rest of
his body.  Swallowing seawater had parched and irritated his
throat, and made him feel like he was going to vomit at any
moment.

     "Lemulla!" he cried again, though he knew that there would
be no answer.  An exceptionally high wave nearly knocked his 
under again, and he barely avoided taking a mouthful of water.

     Now, each kick of his legs sent shooting pains through his
bound arms.  It wouldn't be much longer until he couldn't stand
it any longer.  Then he would sink, and die.

     "O, Lord," he whispered.  "O perfect night, shadow from 
which all shadows are cast, darkness in which there is no light,
progenitor of all my ancestors, never have you abandoned a worthy
servant.  Abandon not me now."

     The wind changed directions, and salty spray licked at his
face.  His shoulders felt like hot needles were being driven into
them.  

     "Hear my call, o Lord," he continued, in between closing his
mouth to avoid swallowing water.  He switched from the ritualized
prayers he'd been taught as a very young child to his own 
creations.  "I am sorry it took me so long to believe again.  I
have seen your kingdom, the paradise from which we were torn, and
I have heard your voice.  Do not abandon me now, when I have only
just found you."

     He could not stand it any longer.  His arms were being 
ripped from their sockets.  Nahato stopped kicking, and tried to
float on his back.  A wave crashed down on him, then another.  He
slipped below the surface, kicked back up.  He could not feel
anything of his arms except the pain.

     "Where is your voice now?" he shouted, hope gone.  "Where is
your voice, o mighty god of my ancestors?"

     The speck of the boat was gone now, vanished from his sight.
He was alone, utterly alone, on the open sea.

     "You are a _lie_!" he howled, gulping seawater as he did, 
not caring.  Even as he choked, he kept on screaming.  "A lie, 
like everything, damn you--"

     Retching, tasting the salt water in his lungs, he sank down.  
For a short, blessed time, he floated below the rollings of the 
waves and the churnings of the winds, bobbing beneath the 
surface, with only faint, lingering pains in his bound arms.  
Then, when he could hold his breath no longer, he weakly kicked 
to the surface to begin the struggle anew.

     He would do it until he was too exhausted to continue.  It
would buy him a few minutes more of life.  Defiance, although
what he was defying he could not definitely say, held a certain
appeal for him now.

     Despite that, when he saw the long, serpentine body rippling
through the ocean towards him, he was strangely relieved that he 
would not have to toil any longer.

END OF CHAPTER SIX