September 15, 3043

[...]Sobering thought, death in the afterlife. In Tyr's hall, I know, we're supposed to fight, be killed—but then be raised to party all night before starting the cycle again. What of these peasants; do they rise again? I asked Callous, because I found—am finding—the thought disturbing. The clerics keep telling us to worship so that we can live again ... but what kind of life is this, murdered by bandits? And what comes after the afterlife? Is it all one big spiral, on and on into infinity? I don't want that. I want some promise of peace.[...]

September 16

Some afterlife this is. Makes me wonder about Tyr's afterlife—assuming I ever get there, which according to Callous is pretty unlikely. The one thing I always liked about the Valhalla idea is that I'd get a chance to see Callous and Danny again, after death. Even the prospect of having to fight and die every day seemed worth it, in order to tilt back a cup with the two of them again every night. Now ... I wonder how painful the deaths are, every day? How awful the memories become, after awhile ... of dying, yourself—of watching your friends die, skulls splintered, brains spattered into the mud ... Does the promised revelry every night finally become insufficient? Do the oldest warriors drink along in dark corners, insane, brooding over their peculiar form of damnation...?

September 20

Damn, damn, damn. Today was the award ceremony, and Danny's birthday. Happy birthday. Hope you aren't being flogged for our absence. If I find anyone has hurt him because we are trapped here, I will kill them when I return, regardless of consequences.

[...]

September 21

I failed my chance off the plane today, so now it's up to Cassia and Nichola—Nicholai. A ladybug started a "haiku" and I didn't finish it right, so....I have begun asking Minhiru to teach me the ways of the land in earnest. I think I'll be spending much time here.

There was some nonsense with Nic, Cassie, and invisible monkeys, but it came to nothing.

We return to Sikeju now and then we go to the black sands, so Nic has his shot off this plane. With luck, if he succeeds, he can bring back someone to rescue us.

It'll be the first time I've needed to rely on someone else to rescue me. I will consider it a failure.

September 23

We're on the coast today. Like the rest of this plane, it's beautiful.

The last time I was on the coast, I was camping with Danny.

Tyr help me.

[...]

September 29

We are in Karakai.

I am reminded why I gave up alchohol instead of drugs. It's been a long time since I woke up to an "alcoholic's morning"—the point at which you wake up and realize you haven't woken up without a hangover for the past week or so ... the gritty eyes, the sour mouth ... last night I finally poisoned myself enough, I think. I've been sick all morning.

I hate alcohol. It blunts and obscures, as opposed to my drugs, which sharpened and clarified. But it is all we have. Miniru says spirits enjoy drinking and even get drunk. I just wish it hadn't been sake. I'm not certain I'll ever be able to touch the stuff again.

Of course I will. What else can I do? Callous says this is the Land of Fate. This is my hell.

Do I bother to update this? What else can I do? The rest are out following the latest clues, running the latest maze, except Nic, who is here looking very much like he's biting back on "I told you so." He's been on me ... a week? Has it been that long? Almost.

Four days on the coast while he trained with the Order of the Mouse. I don't understand what they've done to him, but it doesn't seem harmful, and I suppose it is simply part of the game. Thank Tyr he is chosen and succeeding. At least one of us may get away from here.

I spent most of that time letting Minhiru teach me local customs and drinking with him. Full circle. Last time I was on the coast, I was finally content—thought I might finally have a chance at a new life. Now I have nothing. Who knows what's happening back in Glenzor? We've been gone 15 days. Has Danny been questioned and punished? Ambushed and killed? Reassigned on another death mission, this time without us, without a skilled company, to back him up?

Even if we do make it back, somehow, if he's gone ... what will I have to live for?

I have to believe he's okay. It's the only thing that keeps me going. ...And the sake makes it easier to believe.

Nic says we have to destroy the jade statue of Ziejeku with a copper hammer that was here before the Blue Kumai took it. The others are tracking the kumai now. Step. Step. Mice in a maze. Next gate goes up, next tunnel to pass through. Very well. I'm not such a fool to fight the inevitable. Is this the lesson in humility I am expected to learn. fine. I've learned it. We've lost, the last few missions. Beat a man enough and he'll stop struggling. Offer him hope and take it away, and he'll stop hoping.

September 30

Off to follow the kumai and fetch back Nic's copper hammer. Sobriety hasn't made my prospects look any more cheerful. But there isn't much point in not running the maze, is there? With la belle morte keeping pace at my shoulder, of course. Count my blessings.

1. At least some of my friends may win their way off; I will back them all the way.

2. No matter what's happening to Danny, better that he is there instead of here.

3. I am not dead. There is a chance that things will improve.

There, Danny. That's for you. I'm going my best to stand in your place. I'm doing my best.

4. While I am here, I am not dishonoring myself. No worried about whether I should reenlist, the morality of being in love with my commander.

5. Things seem to be changing for Nicholai. For the better, I hope.

There. That's all I can think of. It's something, I guess. A reason—five reasons—to keep going. Oh, Danny. See how you've changed me?

[...]

October 2

[...]The trouble came after the fight. I was gathering up my bags, others were piling bodies on the bonfire, and Laurie was questioning a prisoner. He discovered that the treasure stolen from Karakai was in the lake. Then, before anybody could do anything, Nic was jumping into the water as a shark!

I dropped my bags, polymorphed into a sahuagin, and followed, but in the meantime Nic was both taking and inflicting damage on the giant carp that was guarding the treasure. I didn't have any useful spells, and in a matter of moments, the carp swallowed Nic whole! And there I was in a whole-body polymorph, with no dagger or sword...

We ended up killing the carp and pulling Nic out of its guts with seconds to spare...Callous did a fast set of Cures and we propped Nic up by the fire with a blanket around his shoulders. We did get to the treasure, finally, and it did have the hammer. Once I was sure Nic was feeling better, I conveyed to him my opinion of people who leap into battle alone...especially people who are integral to our survival on this plane...Idiot. All I needed was for him to get killed, too.

October 6

[...] The corridor led down to Boki's chambers, and quite naturally I checked out his bookshelves and desk, hoping to get some idea of his skills, his likely strategies, his personality—you can learn a lot from a man's room—and what should I learn but that he's a poet, his shelves filled with volumes of his work? Pretty good work, too; mostly this haiku stuff about nature, but some other stuff too, darker, angrier. About what you'd expect from a basically good guy who's been cursed and forced to work with bandits...

All right. So I've got a soft spot for tormented poets. I challenged Callous to put his money where his morals are, and offer to remove the wu jen's curses. I guess I just feel sorry for him. Yeah, who am I kidding? He seems to be in much the same position Danny has been in.

Maybe missing Danny is softening my brain. This past day or two, I keep finding myself thinking about him ... just flashes ... remembering how he looked that day on the beach, barefoot, with the cuffs of his white slacks rolled up, the sun turning his hair to gold and his eyes lit up with the same color of the sky ... or at the dinner table in candlelight ... half-asleep in bed, with the morning light glowing off his skin ... I imagine him walking through the camp here in a travel-stained uniform, with that half-frown on his face that means he's worrying some problem to death ... damn.

I copied out a couple of his poems and put them on Boki's desk. Maybe the wu-jen will like them.

So, tomorrow we're going to meet the mage at Monkey's Rock. I sent a Whispering Wind message to him, saying that our shukenja might be able to help him. He might not show up, but at least we've offered.

And everyone's laughing at me and saying that I've gone "nice" on them. Well, to hell with them. If we help him, he might be able to help us. And if he is another Danny, and I didn't help...

I don't know. Maybe my brain really is going soft. He could just end up attacking Callous and me.

After that ladybug-spirit asked me to finish a haiku, and I couldn't, I asked Minhiru to tell me what a haiku was, and finally managed to write one that didn't sound too stupid—just in case I ever get a second chance. I don't think I ever will, but I suppose I should put it in here—the only poem I'll probably ever write in my life. Maybe someone will eventually get this journal back to Danny, and then he can read it and laugh at my bad style.

Go ahead and laugh, Danny—you're in it, anyway, though nobody would ever know.

October 7

Callous has been insufferable, but our plan worked anyway. Ah, the priests of Tyr love this sort of thing! I think they seek out penitent poets as some sort of religous exercise. Anyway, Callous lifted the curses and then had the audacity to blame his actions on me!

[...]

October 22

[...]

Today Danny brought this journal to me and told me to write. I told him that I'd prefer he brought me a flask of laudanum, but he steadfastly refuses to consider it. I'll have to ask an acolyte ... or Laurie ... because the nightmares won't let me sleep. They're never about the actual dying, they're about the afterlife. Half the time I wake up in a cold sweat and can't even scream, my throat is so constricted with terror. Danny keeps the candles lit, though, so at least I know I'm here, in the temple ... usually he wakes up, if I make a noise, but when I can't, at least the light is still there.

Nick and Cassie died, too. But they'll be braver than I am. I don't think anyone else is as terrified of what we've learned as I am. That it never gets any better. There's no end to the pain, the sorrow, the dying...it just happens over and over and over. I keep dreaming of losing everyone and not being able to stop all the dying ... or of being alone in the dark, searching and searching, desperate. Is Father right, after all? Life may suck, but since it's all we ever have, better to prolong the evil you know than risk the evil you don't. How many times do you have to make the same mistakes until you learn to avoid them forever? How many lives and afterlives? Or are we doomed to start afresh in each new lifetime?

I'd always hoped that after you died, you stopped losing everything you cared about. That finally the things you loved would stay there with you. But now I know it isn't true.

They killed Ziejeku, and then Baldarian and the rest came and brought Callous and Laurie—and the rest of us—back here to the temple of Shang-Ti.

We haven't left yet because of the political situation. Danny's waiting for everyone to be on their feet again before we decide how to handle this. I was the first back, but he hasn't said too much about what's going on. He says we have a few days to go still.

He's mad. I haven't seen him this quietly angry for a long time. He's even talking about not reenlisting. That would be fine with me. I'd rather freelance than let PainDealer call the shots. Just as long as Danny doesn't do anything rash, lose control ... but he seems content, for the moment, to wait.

He's almost always here, to keep me company, especially nights. I think he's afraid I might do something rash. I can't decide what to do, really. But it's comfortig to have him nearbye, after the last month. I don't like to think that I'm dependant on him, but it is good to have him near. I want us all back. When this is over, I'll have everyone to my house for diner, to fill all the silences with talk, and light all the darknesses. It'll be the best I can do for any of us.

October 24

Briefing today. Danny revealed his plan to us last night and, all in all, his predictions turned out to be correct. IronBreast kept the screws on, PainDealer finally cracked, and the doppleganger and FireLeech turned state's evidence. PainDealer was killed. Simon amused us by knocking FluidStreamer out, but we couldn't find anything to pin on him, alas. The emperor was brought in to survey the damage, and we were excused, with orders to report back in five days.

Home again—really home, my home! It surprises me how much better I feel just being here, surrounded by things I own, people I know, the house my friend built...

We stopped by to see Zed's prophet and to pay our respects—it seems that while we were gone, we were declared to be saints! The idea entertains me, although Danny disapproves of the whole cult. I should—no, maybe not. Joke about him sleeping with a saint? He probably wouldn't be amused.

He's been acting so concerned about me, these past couple of days—it's almost too obvious, I think sometimes, but then I ask myself, isn't this what you wanted? Yes... it is. It just takes some getting used to. I think Laurie may have guessed, from some of the comments he made today—asked if Danny's staying at my housenow—Nic cut in to cover for me, but I think the damage is done.

Maybe I will finally ask him again, if he'd like to move in. I'm just not ready to accept a "no," though....

October 30

Today I asked Danny to move in with me. He said he'd need to think about it—that it wouldn't be a thing to do lightly, refusing an offer to move into the palace. I said I'd wait for an answer. Of course, I'll argue with anything but a "yes."

November 11

He said yes! There's going to be some rearranging necessary, but that won't be a problem. We'll officially put him in the west wng chamber, of course, but that's just for appearances. He says he'll need a few rooms for entertaining military guests it necessary, and a briefing room. I teased him a little about only moving in because he needed the extra space, but he was quick to deny it, of course.

I'm glad he agreed—asking was scary, and I didn't know what I'd do if he declined. Why is it that at thirty-three, I can still be as nervous as an adolescent? More, actually ... I never gave a damn about anything when I was younger. Maybe because as one grows older, one ends up having more to lose. I suppose this is going to inspire another round of "Oh, I'll move out" comments from Nic, but I don't think he will, really. As for Laurie's suspicions, well, there's nothing I can do about that. I'd like to be able to assume that he'll just bite his tongue and act like a gentleman, but somehow I can't see him resisting the opportunity to make some catty remark. No—that's unfair to him. He's been better than that. And—I don't care. November 13 Nic's said little as the move-in continues, but he's got that vaguely amused glint in his eyes. I'm glad that he and Danny ended up getting along after all—they're the two friends closest to me, and I would have been disappointed if they'd continued to argue. As it is, I've surprised myself by realizing that I sort of like having people in the house—there's something reassuringly secure in sleeping in and awakening to the sound of Cassia and Danny greeting each other in the hall, or Nic puttering among his plants in the balcony. Hell! It just occurred to me. I must be getting domestic. Shudder.