Chisen did not deny it.
"Yes."
Shikamaru gave a small smile. It was not a happy smile, but an "I knew it all along" sort of smile.
"You even planned your own way out. And if there isn't one, you'll burn it down."
"If I don't," Chisen said, "someone else will get burned."
Shikamaru looked at him and said nothing for a long time.
The emergency light at the stairwell flickered, as though it was about to go out, then came back on.
"Three days," Shikamaru said. "I'll get things ready."
Chisen nodded, turned, and headed toward the Medical Department.
Three days later, on the Western Frontier.
An abandoned village, twenty li east of Raincrack Basin.
Chisen stood in the doorway of a half-collapsed earthen house, his sword tucked behind his waist. His right fingertips rested on the hilt, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the old scratches on the sheath. Wind blew in from the west, carrying the basin's distinctive damp smell-silt, rotting grass, and something deeper, a cold, fishy odor that seemed to seep up from far beneath the earth.
Dawn had yet to break. Only a crescent of the moon remained, hanging above the eastern ridge. Its light did not reach the basin, merely tracing pale gray edges around the surrounding mountains.
Kiba crouched in a large oak on the outskirts of the abandoned village. Akamaru lay on a branch beside him, his nose pointed west and twitching now and then. His ears swiveled back and forth like two miniature radar dishes.
"Chakra signatures are starting to gather fifteen li west of us," Kiba said quietly into a miniature communicator clipped to his collar.
Kagura had rushed to make it overnight. Its range was limited, only effective within thirty li of the basin, but its advantage was that it