Falling Through Glass Page 14

  Emmi could tell even at a distance that Takehito’s clothing was of the quality silk that she had been inspecting today—no, she didn’t want to think of that. Instead Emmi concentrated on the details.

  His hakama was deep blue, as was his haori jacket, which bore the Maeda crest, visible in the center just below his unbound hair. He wore only a short sword, its golden scabbard tip poking from beneath his jacket.

  He turned and Emmi gasped again. He looked so much like her father that she wanted to run and hug him and never let go. Of course, he wasn’t her father, and Emmi doubted that he would help her.

  “I dreamed of you,” he said quietly as he stepped into the room and walked slowly toward her. He stopped in front of her and stroked her cheek. “You are much prettier to my waking eyes.”

  Emmi blushed and looked down. Takehito tilted her chin up. “You also have dreams of things that come to pass, yes?”

  Emmi swallowed. “A few times.”

  Takehito nodded. He smiled, and Emmi felt that he was relieved to have someone understand at last. Emmi knew the feeling. Jake was the only one she’d ever been able to confide in about her rare “visions” without feeling like an idiot. If only he hadn’t been out of the country and could have convinced her father to believe her the day of the accident…

  “I believe this belongs to you, Emiko,” he said, reaching inside his black kimono. He produced a small square of rice paper and offered it to her.

  “You know my name?” Emmi blurted, only to feel silly for thinking no one would have told him her name. Reluctantly, she took the packet. Was he giving her money to go away? Deciding to get it over with, she opened the paper. It was her pendant—the one commissioned and handed down by the very man before her—that she had left with Shinjuku-san.

  “It’s my necklace. I mean your necklace. I mean your daughter’s. I mean… I don’t know what I mean.”

  Takehito laughed and again her heart ached. He was so much like her father.

  “Walk with me,” he said after fastening the dragonfly pendant around her neck.

  Donning sandals, they went out into the expansive gardens that surrounded the palatial estate. For the first time since Emmi had fallen into this nightmare, she began to feel safe and cared for.

  It isn’t really the first time is it? her heart asked. You felt very safe and cared for alone in Kae’s arms, didn’t you?

  Yeah well, that isn’t worth thinking about. Not after the look he gave me earlier. What was that about anyway? Emmi wondered as she followed her ancestor along the path of precisely set stepping stones.

  It was just best to try to forget about Kaemon for now and concentrate on finding a way home. Maybe this was Fate’s way of getting her back on track. If Takehito also had prophetic dreams, then maybe he was no stranger to other weirdness. Maybe he could get her home where she belonged.

  Home. Alone, her heart chimed in sadly.

  * * * *

  Prince Asahiko entered his son’s rooms as soon as he received word that Kaemon had returned to the palace. He demanded an explanation for his son’s latest escapade and received it, though he was clearly not satisfied.

  “Why were you at a silk merchant’s in Gion, with that Maeda girl, no less?”

  “Arranging for her to have something suitable to wear for your meeting tomorrow—which is no longer necessary.”

  Asahiko stared questioningly at his son. “And why is it no longer necessary?”

  “It just isn’t. May we drop the subject, Honored Father?”

  “For the moment.”

  * * * *

  Emmi grew attached to Maeda Takehito almost immediately. There was just something about him, something so similar to her late father besides appearance, that it almost made her cry every time he looked at her. As they walked along the garden path one evening, Emmi was reminded of the long walks she and her father had taken so many times. When Takehito wandered off the path and to the edge of the wide, decorative pond to skim stones across the water’s still surface, the feeling hit her again, and she did cry.

  Emmi clung to the sleeves of Takehito’s haori when he comforted her.

  “Do not cry, child. You are under my protection.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kyoto

  Present day

  Jake Hillhouse gave his twin sister a huge hug when he met her at the airport. “You didn’t need to come all this way, sis.”

  “I was worried sick about you and Emmi, and I figure you need backup if the Dragon Lady is coming here.”

  Jake ran his hand through his long hair. “She’s due in an hour, and I am not looking forward to it.”

  “No word on Emmi at all?”

  “Not a one, but I swear I almost heard her when I was meditating this morning.”

  “What did she say? Did she sound okay?”

  Jake’s brow furrowed. “Actually, it sounded a lot like ‘Oh shit’. But I didn’t get any vibes that she was in trouble. It was so faint. I just don’t have the connection to her that I had to Laurie. I don’t think Em’s in the here and now, and I can’t reach her across time.”

  Galen nodded. Her expression was as somber as her twin’s. “If anything bad had happened to her with that storm, I’m sure she would have been found by now.”

  Jake nodded and led the way to a coffee shop near the gate to await the arrival of Emmi’s mother, Tara Maeda, and the investigator she’d said she was bringing.

  “What the hell kind of P.I. is that?” Galen wondered aloud as Tara and her companion exited the passage leading from the plane.

  “He reminds me of a Buddhist monk,” Jake said.

  “Wearing a kimono top, khaki shorts and Gucci loafers?”

  “A gi,” Jake said.

  “What?”

  “The top. It’s part of a martial arts training gi.”

  “Whatever.” Galen fell silent and offered a faint smile to Tara Maeda and her odd companion when they approached.

  “Have you found my Emmi, Jake?”

  “Not yet. She doesn’t seem to be in or near Kyoto, but I’m sure she’s okay. I have an idea but, well”—he paused and cleared his throat—“it’s a bit off the wall.”

  “Is that so?”

  Jake ran his hand through his long hair. “Yeah. I’d prefer to talk to you about it in private.”

  Tara gave him a cold look. “I’m sure I don’t want to hear anything you think you know.” She turned to her companion. “Monk Honji will find my Emiko using more than ordinary, mortal resources.”

  “And that means what exactly? Is he psychic? Some kind of wizard?” Galen asked, shooting Jake a sideways look.

  “I have mastered many ancient, esoteric practices and abilities that might appear magical to those on the outside, those who can never truly hope to comprehend,” the monk said. He gave Jake and Galen a half bow while holding out his hand, palm up. “Hail the Lotus Sutra,” he said before straightening.

  Galen glanced over to Jake, who had an expression akin to horror on his face.

  “You can’t have a Nichiren monk do anything supernatural, Tara. Kenny’s people followed the Jodo sect.”

  “I was married to Kenjiro for twenty-six years, Jake. I think I know that. Besides, Honji-san has transcended the boxed-in teachings of any particular sect.”

  The monk bowed again. “The Powers of the Cosmos do not avail Themselves of merely one set of sutra. I have progressed beyond such confining strictures to embrace the whole that is incorrupt and entire. I add and extract, compress and expand to create that which is akin to karmic culmination.”

  Tara and the monk gave the Hillhouse twins identical inscrutable looks then the odd pair walked away, their matching designer luggage rolling along behind them like two inanimate attendants.

  The Hillhouses followed. Jake shook his head and muttered, “Man, I have a bad feeling about all this, sis. A bad feeling.”

  Jake’s bad feeling grew progressively worse as the days passed. Tara and Monk Hon
ji canvassed every inch of Kyoto. Although Jake wasn’t privy to any information they found, Galen, an investigative reporter, managed to work her particular magic on a few assorted hotel staff. She even got information from people working at the historic sites that Tara and the monk seemed to find particularly interesting.

  “If only the Japanese were half as talkative as some of the Irish informants I once knew, we’d have a lot more to go on, but the best I could come up with so far is that they seem to keep lingering on tours to three places—Nijo castle, some estate in Mibu and the Imperial Palace—especially the Imperial Palace. What do you make of it?”

  Jake pushed his hair back behind his shoulder. “Not much. Nijo Castle is one of the set pieces for the movie we’re doing, since it was a big center of activity when the Tokugawa Shogunate started to hit the skids.”

  He got up from the chair and paced the room. His steps became quicker and more agitated until he slammed his fist against the wall near the window.

  “This is making me fucking crazy. I can’t shake the feeling that Tara and that whacked-out monk friend of hers are going to screw something up.”

  “Do you want me touch base with Jonny to see if he can get through to his mother? He’s on work-study in Hong Kong, isn’t he? He already told you he could get here pretty quickly if you think it will help.”

  Jake leaned against the wall. “It won’t do any good.” He exhaled a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. “You said they’d been to Mibu a lot?”

  “Yeah. Some private estate that’s open to tours. Yanagi something. Wait.” She grabbed her purse and began leafing through a small notepad.

  “Was it Yagi?”

  Galen looked up, clearly surprised. “Yeah. Does it mean something?”

  “I don’t know. That’s where the Shinsengumi got their start. Emmi knew a lot about them because of Kenny. They fascinated the hell out him.” Jake smiled. “Seeing that place when he did that one action flick here had him acting like a kid at Christmas.”

  Galen smiled and looked at her notes again. “Oh, I forgot. The concierge said Tara and her mad monk planned to spend most of tomorrow at the Katsura Villa.”

  Jake frowned. “Kenny loved seeing that, too. The Maeda family has ties to the place through intermarriage with the Imperial Family from way, way back. Maybe they’re not picking up on Emmi at all. Maybe it’s Kenny. Tara misses him so damn much maybe… Shit, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “Try to talk to her, Jake.”

  “She won’t listen.” He sighed and pushed away from the wall. “I’m going to hit the bar and have a drink and decide if I need to bail on Cruze and his movie.”

  Galen set her things aside and went to her brother. “I know you want to stay here and find Emmi, but I think you need to work. I know damn well how you miss the business, and even if you’re not doing the stunts, I know you love being the guy in charge of it all.”

  Jake nodded and gave his sister a fleeting smile. “It’s still a rush. I’ve missed that, being a dull old translator for the past couple years.”

  “Then you get your ass to Tokyo tomorrow and get to work. You said they’d be coming back here to finish filming once the studio is back up to speed with their repairs. Maybe with you out of town I can get Tara to talk to me. I intend to find out exactly what she and that Honji character are up to.”

  Jake nodded. “You wanna go downstairs with me?”

  Galen grinned. “Why not? That evening bartender is pretty hot. Maybe I can get lucky.”

  Jake followed his twin to the door and sent his heartfelt thoughts out to Emmi. I hope luck is on your side, Em-chan.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kyoto

  1864

  An excited maid who looked like she’d seen a ghost woke Emmi up. “A man from the Imperial Palace was here, and Lord Maeda wishes to see you at once.”

  A man from the palace? Could it be Kaemon?

  “Do you know who the man was?” Emmi asked, getting up to dress once again in the simple kimono she’d arrived in. She quickly combed and braided her hair.

  “I was told only that he looked important.”

  That was probably Kaemon. “Does Lord Maeda seem angry?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  That was good. Maybe.

  Emmi followed the maid to the room where Takehito was waiting. Someone else was there too, a boy about Emmi’s age, who reminded her a bit of her brother. Takehito dismissed the servants before speaking.

  “Emiko, this is my son, Sadanori.”

  Emmi knelt on the floor and bowed forward. “I am honored.”

  She looked up when Takehito chuckled. He spoke quickly to his son, and she couldn’t make out all of what he’d said. “What?”

  Takehito motioned her to come join them at the low table. “I told Sadanori that bowing so much must be a wound to your spirit. I have heard Americans are a proud lot who do not bow down to others, and I believe this utterly, from their actions since Perry came.”

  Emmi blushed and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the nagging voice in her head. Go on! Ask him who was here!

  “Honored Uncle,” she stammered, not quite knowing how to address him since he hadn’t told her what he preferred. “I was told there was a man here from the Imperial Palace? It wasn’t about me, was it?”

  Takehito laughed. “I requested an audience with the emperor. It was a messenger telling me my request was granted for tomorrow. I plan to take Sadanori with me, and I will take you as well.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. I can’t do that. I can’t go there. I have no proper clothing. No, I don’t belong there.”

  “I wish you to accompany us, Emiko-chan,” he said firmly. “A woman is on her way to see that you have everything you need. You may go now.”

  Emmi groaned inwardly. Takehito was even better at giving the big brush-off than Kae.

  * * * *

  Why was it that time zoomed by when she was confronted with things she did not want to face? It seemed one minute Takehito was telling her to get lost, and the next she was being swamped by maids getting her ready to go to the very last place she wanted to go.

  Slowly Emmi followed the maid into the main room of the Katsura Villa to await the palanquins that would take her and her ancestors to the Imperial Palace. Of course, following the maid was easier said than done, since the maid was not weighed down in fifty-seven different layers of stuff including towels padding her stomach, above her butt and between her boobs to make her shape into a smooth cylinder.

  Emmi couldn’t forget the two under kimono, the outer kimono and the uchikake, the kimono-ish coat that was embroidered with at least thirty-five pounds of silk thread. To top that all off, there were straps and ties out the wazoo to keep it all in place and to keep her collar at the proper height.

  She didn’t even want to think about the white makeup covering her face and neck. This stuff could not be healthy. She was positive that the makeup person at the movie studio had rambled about how the ‘real deal’ once contained lead as a main ingredient.

  Emmi hoped Takehito didn’t spaz, but there was no way in hell she was going to put that inky black stuff on her teeth. Did these people have no concept of proper dental hygiene? Her parents had spent a fortune having her teeth bleached and straightened in the ninth grade, and she was not going to ruin it now, not even for the Emperor of Japan. She would just keep her mouth shut, which shouldn’t be too hard and would probably be a wise thing in the long run.

  She took small satisfaction in the way Takehito and Sadanori looked equally uncomfortable in their “Court Costume.” Emmi quickly found herself liking her outfit a great deal more. The men looked truly weighted down by the robe-like black tops with the incredibly long full sleeves and backs that resembled a train on a bridal dress. The wide legged pants beneath their robes were longer than their usual hakama, and Emmi knew that if she had to dress in that getup she’d end up entangling her feet and falling on her face. Beside
s, she didn’t have to wear the bizarre, pillbox-type black hat tied on with a thin white cord and sporting a stiff wide fabric tail that rose up then curved down on the hat’s back.

  Just as Emmi was about to ask if she really had to go along a servant hurried in and said the palanquins had arrived. She winced at the thought of getting into the palanquin, hating the thought that these poor guys had to carry her and who knew how many other people all around Kyoto—rain, shine or snow—for a living, especially when she was weighted down with all this ‘stuff’ like a gift-wrapped salami.

  Emmi let out an enormous sigh—as enormous a sigh as a gift-wrapped salami could exhale—and tried to settle back. Endeavoring to reform the civil liberties of nineteenth century Japan was probably not a good idea, especially if she wanted to get back to her own century just as she’d left it without some freaky Butterfly Effect from her meddling.

  A trip to the Imperial Palace mightn’t be so bad. She’d at least catch a glimpse of Kae. Not that he cared about her or would want to see her, but still, a glimpse of him, even for a second, would be nice. The memory of him would go with her no matter where she ended up.

  Every minute that she’d spent with him ran through her mind as they made their way from the villa. Their time had ended with him giving her that cold, cold look. Just her luck to have a mad crush on a guy who couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  As they traveled through the big main gate of the Imperial Place, Emmi peeked through the sliding papered window of the palanquin. She caught a glimpse of seriously bored-looking guards, who seemed too lax about who was coming and going. Certainly they would be expecting guests, and the Maeda family was well-known here.

  Emmi remembered snatches of the stories about how the Maeda had held court rank since before the days of the first Tokugawa shogun. They’d married into the Tokugawa family on a regular basis ever since and of course had ties to the Imperial family.