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across the gap. Swing and dangle from the trap, all the while pulling a sticky curtain across a dark corner. The next day would reveal what had been entangled, for good or ill, and show where the reweaving must begin.
    Kiku switched off the light, and Emily waited for her eyes to adjust so she could find the spider’s handiwork again, now hiding in its natural element, the darkness. A sudden breeze brushed up against the windows, and Emily imagined the invisible web waving, like a tell-tale atop the mainmast of a corsair, or a sashimono fixed on a pole to a soldier’s back and fluttering above his head to declare the clan he serves. She followed it down the mountain, watching it pitch back and forth as he ran. Her bare feet found the cool dirt and the not-yet trampled grass in the interval between the standard-bearer and the dozens of soldiers who charged behind him. An enemy dug in on the hillside leveled their weapons in anticipation of the clash, and the men running behind Emily dodged as best they could the volley of arrows that whistled through the air. Still, many of the barbed shafts found a mark, though most were not fatal, glancing off the iron and leather piecework of their armor, or tearing idly at the flesh of elbow or shoulder joints. A few found the soft skin of the throat, ripping open an artery; others pierced the groin, where armor was thinner to make running possible, leaving victims to claw the ground in agony.
    Another volley brought down a few more soldiers, but plenty of them made it through, the lowly ashigaru lunging in with sharpened yari , trusting the seven-foot pole to keep the enemy at a distance while they stabbed at them with the steel tip. Samurai crashed through the line after them, swinging from horseback with a long sword, the curve keeping the blade from catching on bone or muscle; they slashed at necks and shoulders, sprays of blood blossoming behind them as they went, bellowing a cry in honor of the emperor as their enemies shrieked out the same cry.
    Calm amid the mayhem, Emily turned to step through the center of the battle, placing heel in front of toe, breathing slowly and feeling the grass crinkle under her feet and between her toes. Casting her eyes to one side or the other, a red mist collecting on her cheeks, she watched men kill, or be killed, and walked on by. Even as the sun warmed her face, she saw dark clouds rolling toward the battlefield, swirling around the combatants. In the center of a whirlwind dark as thunder, with rain pelting in all directions, she spied the little girl gazing down at her from on high, smiling serenely as she held out a hand as mighty as the wind.
    With outstretched arm, Emily rose up on her toes to reach for the girl, and just before their fingers touched, a spark leapt across the gap. When she opened her eyes, she felt the warm sun on her face again, and insects with long, broad wings flitted over the grass, and she heard water babbling nearby. The voice of the Queen of Heaven hadn’t come to her in several years, and she didn’t expect to hear it now, but the little princess had haunted her dreams with increasing frequency of late, even though Emily was no longer permitted to visit the Togu Palace.
    Before the first rays of the sun could peek under the window shade, she shook the last wisps of the dream out of her brain and rolled off the futon to find a pair of running shoes.
    “C’mon, Kiku-san,” Emily whispered into Lt Otani’s ear. “The sun is up. Time to run.”
    “Mrrmph,” Kiku groaned, and rolled over to the other side of her pillow.
    Emily let the door click shut behind her, and jogged over to the main field, where the “Fast-Rope” chopper exercises were held. As expected, Durant waited for her there, in olive green shorts and a t-shirt.
    “ Sensei ,” he grunted.
    “No, it’ll cause trouble. Stick to protocol.”
    “LT, then?”
    “Check, Sarge.”

Chapter 4

A Distinguished Personage
    I n the hot and humid season,