Burning Starfire, Chapter 4 (Yu-Gi-Oh!, Ryou Bakura & Yami Bakura, #12)
Header: Burning Starfire, Chapter 4 (Yu-Gi-Oh!, Ryou Bakura & Yami Bakura, #12)
Title: Burning Starfire
Author/Artist: Lucky_Ladybug/insaneladybug
Pairing: Ryou Bakura & Yami Bakura
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Theme: #12 - Emerald Streams
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and the story is!
Cross-posted to http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5765057/4/ and ladybug_tales.
Chapter Four
Inside the Magic Holds
Prompt: #12 - Emerald Streams
"I'll never forgive you!"
Yami Bakura shot upright in the fancy bed, the silk comforter slipping from his bare shoulders. Breathing heavily, he stared out at the darkened room, lit only by the moonlight through the window. Then he slumped back into the soft pillow, passing a hand over his eyes.
A recurring dream, eh? That was worse than ever. He did not want to see this every night. The more he saw it, the more it was going to bother him. And he had really almost forgotten it since last night. To be reminded so suddenly brought all of his past feelings concerning it on him again. As if he did not have enough to think about.
He growled, rolling onto his side. What had Yami Marik done to them? Trapped in a world with giant crows and wizards and fairies, forced to set out on a quest for a Door that no one had ever passed. . . . And he could not shake the feeling that the wretch was always watching them. It made him feel like a specimen under a microscope.
Not to mention that something still felt wrong to him about this whole set-up. Why would the queen go out looking for trouble? Why would she bring strangers to the palace without a second thought? She seemed righteous and noble, but was she really? And had she told them the truth about anything that was happening in this crazy land?
After dinner, she had told them they needed to beware of Fafnir's men on their journey. He was a man revered by the people as a national hero, yet was secretly trying to usurp the kingdom for himself. No evil deeds could be directly linked to his name, but there was a small group of rebels in one of the villages who were trying to prove his guilt.
Yami Bakura was inclined to take everything with a grain of salt. Perhaps Fafnir was the villain, but on the other hand, perhaps he was the hero and the queen was the villain, with a devious ulterior motive behind her seeming goodness.
Or perhaps Yami Bakura was just a suspicious old grouch.
He stiffened, coming to attention at the sound of the door inching open. A stream of light entered at the edge of the room, a familiar shadow appearing within it.
"What is it?" he growled.
The silhouetted form belonging to the shadow froze. "I'm sorry, Yami," Bakura apologized. "I . . . I couldn't sleep and I wondered if you were awake. . . ."
Yami Bakura tiredly gestured with his hand. "Come in," he said.
Bakura hesitated. "If you were trying to sleep . . ."
"I'm wide awake. Come in or go out."
Bakura slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He stepped onto the woven rug, then walked over to the bed and sank onto the edge of the mattress.
"It's so strange here, Yami," he said quietly, staring at the floor. The pajamas he had been given hung loosely on his slender frame, somehow making him look even more dejected than he actually was.
"That's an understatement." Yami Bakura came up on one elbow, watching him. The boy looked so bewildered and lost.
Bakura turned to give him a sideways look. "What do you think will happen to us tomorrow?" he wondered. "When we find the wizard and he tests us. . . ."
"I've never been tested by a wizard, unless Karim using the Millennium Scales on my soul counts," Yami Bakura said, his tone deliberately sardonic. "And we know how that went in the end."
"You're different now," Bakura protested. "And even then, you had a perfect right to be angry, to hate. . . ." He shook his head. "I'm just so worried. What if we can't get home?"
Yami Bakura sat up straight. "We'll get home," he said, gruff now. He felt awkward; being comforting was certainly not a strong point of his. And yet Bakura kept coming to him.
Bakura gave a weak smile. "I suppose it's terribly selfish of me, but . . . I'm really glad I'm not here alone," he said.
"Misery loves company," Yami Bakura returned.
Bakura chuckled in spite of himself. "That's not really what I meant," he said. "I don't want anyone to be miserable with me; it's just . . ." He trailed off, thinking. "It's easier to be strong when you're not alone," he finished. "When there's someone there you need to be strong for."
"Bah!" Yami Bakura rested his arm on his knee as he drew it halfway to his chest. "There's always someone you need to be strong for---yourself. You don't want to show weakness to yourself, do you?"
Bakura shifted. "Well, no . . . of course not," he said.
He looked worried again. "I wonder what we're going to do about Father now," he said. "I'm afraid he doesn't trust you at all because of that horrible Yami Marik." And he sighed. "But still . . . I suppose I am kind of glad the truth is out. I never did like keeping it from him."
"There's really nothing we can 'do' about him," Yami Bakura said. "If he doesn't trust me, he just doesn't. I can't control that and neither can you."
"I know. . . ." Bakura looked sad. "But he was just starting to warm up to you a little. I don't want him to feel like you're our enemy. . . ."
Yami Bakura sighed. "If there's any way to correct it, it will just happen by itself over time," he said.
"I suppose you're right." But Bakura sounded mostly resigned and not very pleased with the answer.
He leaned back, unable to keep from yawning. "Oh my," he said somewhere through it.
"You're tired," Yami Bakura grunted. "You should sleep. It's going to be a long day."
"I know." Bakura sighed now, closing his eyes. "I feel exhausted, and yet I don't feel that certain exhaustion that leads to sleep. I've been lying awake for ages." Without really thinking, he laid down on the bed's edge, resting his head against one of the large pillows.
"I doubt we'll ever sleep in a place like this again," he remarked, toying with the opening of the pillowcase.
"Highly unlikely," Yami Bakura said.
"Yami . . ." Bakura sounded sleepier. "Did you ever sleep in fancy places like this in Egypt?"
Yami Bakura stared at him. "What a ridiculous question," he muttered.
"Well . . . I thought maybe you snuck into someone's house sometime and . . ." Bakura yawned again. "Slept in their bed when they weren't home. . . ."
"I never did," Yami Bakura grunted. "What foolish thoughts."
Bakura did not reply.
The thief looked at him in irritation. "Don't tell me you've fallen asleep in my bed," he grumbled, staring hard.
But at last his expression softened---slightly. "Foolish boy," he muttered, reaching over to lift Bakura's legs onto the bed. Bakura only burrowed deeper into the mattress. Rolling his eyes, Yami Bakura covered Bakura with half the quilt and then rolled over, moving to the other side of the mammoth bed.
I'm far too soft in my old age, he said to himself.
After laying awake a short while longer, he too, fell asleep.
****
The rest of the night and the early morning passed in peace. The travelers had breakfast in the royal dining room before packing the supplies they had been granted by the queen. Though the sky was overcast, the clouds did not look as ominous as they had the previous day. But of course, that could change in an instant. Umbrellas and a make-shift rain shelter were added to the supplies before the group was ready to leave.
Sapphire and Kade stood at the top of the west stairs, watching as the party made their way to the bottom. Kade waved, but he looked worried.
"The forest's s'pposed to be Mr. Ghost's house!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you scared?"
Bakura chuckled. "Maybe I will be when we get there," he said.
"Bah!" Yami Bakura grumbled. "Ghosts." If you only knew, child, he said to himself.
"Stay safe," Sapphire said quietly. "I'm afraid ghosts may be the least of your worries on your quest. But if you start to lose your way in the forest, just listen for the emerald stream."
"Emerald stream?" Bakura blinked in surprise.
"It's really pretty," Kade beamed. "A big, bright green!" He stretched his arms wide.
Mr. Bakura nodded. "Thank you for all of your help," he said, looking to the queen. "If there's anything we can do to repay you . . ."
Sapphire smiled. "I only ask one thing in return," she said. "That you make sure that creature doesn't bring about the ruin of this country."
"We'll do our best," Bakura said. "We might not see him again until we find the Door."
Yami Bakura remained silent, but he was certain they would be seeing Yami Marik sooner than that.
Much sooner.
****
The forest looked uninviting even from a distance. The dark trees stood close together, their branches interlocking and all but blocking out the light. The opening looked more like a black hole. Somewhere inside, something rustled and something else yowled.
"Something doesn't feel right about this place," Mr. Bakura said as they drew closer. "I mean . . . besides the obvious." He frowned. "It feels like something doesn't want us to enter."
"The very forest itself is rebuking us," Yami Bakura said. "My Ring is responding to it." He glanced at the Infinity Ring, which was steadily glowing and waning, a cycle that continued to repeat on end.
Bakura stared. "But why?" he gasped. "We aren't going to do anything wrong."
"The queen said we have to prove ourselves to the fairies," Yami Bakura said. "Perhaps we have to prove ourselves to the forest as well."
"And how do we do that?" Mr. Bakura exclaimed. "I doubt talking is going to do much good."
Bakura frowned, gazing up at the trees. Somehow they seemed so stern and cold, as if looking down in disapproval. An involuntary shudder passed through his body.
". . . Maybe we're not supposed to take anything inside that could damage the forest?" he suggested.
The trees' boughs moved calmly up and down, as if in agreement.
"And what would that be?" Yami Bakura growled, folding his arms. "Even my Ring could potentially damage the forest, and I can't take it off."
Now the trees moved their boughs up and down in fury, creating a giant breeze in his direction. He cursed in Egyptian, pulling on the edge of his kilt to keep it down while shielding his eyes at the same time.
"Blast it, I can't take it off!" he yelled. "I'm only mortal as long as I wear it!"
"And Shadi gave it to him!" Bakura exclaimed. "I don't suppose that name means anything in this world, but in our world he's a very wise and just person! Please, we swear we don't bring any harm to anything in this forest!"
"Not unless it brings harm to us first," Yami Bakura snarled.
The trees blew at him again, this time knocking him right off his feet by the force of their collected wind pressure.
Mr. Bakura gawked. Bakura ran over in concern.
"Yami!" he exclaimed, kneeling down to help the tomb-robber up.
Yami Bakura sat up on the grass, gripping the blades between his fingers. "Do those trees really expect that if something attacks us, we will simply roll over and let it happen?!" he burst out, fairly trembling with rage.
"Yami, please calm down!" Bakura gasped, placing an arm around the man's shoulders. "There has to be a way to get through that's fair to everyone!"
"I wonder if they would answer to the queen," Mr. Bakura said. Louder he said, "We've come with the blessing of the queen of your land!"
The trees shook, clearly unimpressed.
Mr. Bakura swallowed hard. "What was that she said to do if we started to lose our way?" he said.
"Something about an emerald stream," Yami Bakura growled.
"She said to listen for it," Bakura said. "But what good will that do when we can't even get inside?"
"Who knows," Yami Bakura said.
Mr. Bakura sighed, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Anything's worth a try, isn't it?" he said at last. "Let's be quiet and see if we can hear anything."
"All we've been hearing are angry trees and things screeching," Yami Bakura muttered. But he quieted anyway, straining to hear. Bakura and his father did likewise. Even the trees calmed down, willing to let them have this chance. Or maybe they were curious, wanting to see the humans fail.
". . . Maybe there is something," Bakura said at last. "Off in the distance, it sounds a bit like a rushing creek."
Yami Bakura snorted. "It's a waterfall," he grunted.
Mr. Bakura frowned. "I'm hearing what sounds like a dripping tap," he said.
Bakura rocked back. "We're each hearing something different," he said. "How can that be?"
"It's all an illusion of the mind," Yami Bakura said. "It would have to be."
Bakura started to stand. "Well, in any case, maybe if we follow the sounds, we'll find the stream," he said.
"In case you've forgotten, the trees won't let us pass," Yami Bakura said in sarcasm.
But Bakura walked up to the entrance in determination. And instead of repelling him, the trees formed their branches into an archway overhead. He stepped through in peace, then looked over his shoulder for the others. "Come on!" he called with a wave. "At least try! Something must be different."
Mr. Bakura nodded. "Ryou's right," he said. "I'm game. What about you, Thief?"
Yami Bakura growled as he got to his feet. "Don't think I'm about to give up," he said. "I have never given up before and I'm not going to start now!" With that he stormed to the entrance. But instead of being blown back, as he was fully expecting, the trees were still. When Mr. Bakura approached a moment later, he too was granted entry.
"This is so strange," Bakura said as they slowly walked ahead. "Did hearing the stream---or whatever it is---really make the difference?"
The trees trembled as they journeyed deeper, but made no move to stop them. Still, it was uneasily obvious that the ancient beings were attentive.
"It feels like a thousand pairs of eyes are watching us," Bakura said. "It's quite unsettling in and of itself, without knowing it's probably trees doing the watching. . . ."
"Stay close," Mr. Bakura instructed. "The last thing we want is to get separated."
". . . I wonder what kinds of ghosts live here," Bakura said. He looked back and forth at the trees. Were unfriendly spirits hiding behind them or in the bushes, staring at them? What if it was even them causing so much commotion instead of the trees?
Or what if it was both?
"There could be both good and bad," Yami Bakura grunted. "They might be mostly benign forest spirits. I'm not sensing anything evil at the moment . . . but that doesn't mean they're not here."
"I know," Bakura moaned.
"We still don't know where in the forest we have to go, either," Yami Bakura said. "And look up ahead---there's three paths to take."
Bakura's eyes widened. "You're right, Yami!" he breathed.
Mr. Bakura stared. "Each path looks mostly the same," he said. "There's no way of telling which one we should use."
As they drew to the heads of the trails, Bakura bit his lip. "Maybe they each lead to the same place eventually," he said. "Isn't that what Sapphire said about what happens if the wizard says you're worthy---he'll give you different directions compared to the other groups, but you all go to the same place?"
"So?" Yami Bakura said. "Are you suggesting we each take a path in the hopes that we'll meet again?"
"No . . ." Bakura said. "More like, it shouldn't matter which path we take together if they all go to the same location."
Mr. Bakura glowered at the roads. "What about the sounds of the stream?" he said. "Weren't we supposed to be following those?"
Bakura blinked. "That's true," he said. "So we should listen very carefully and see if there's one path where we can hear the stream more clearly!"
But even as the others agreed and tried to comply, the forest was not cooperating.
"I still hear a waterfall," Yami Bakura growled. "And it sounds closest to the left path."
"The dripping water is coming from the right-hand path," Mr. Bakura said.
"And I'm afraid the rushing creek is coming from the middle," Bakura said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Well, this is a fine mess," Yami Bakura growled.
Bakura shifted his weight. "I suppose a creek would sound the closest to a stream," he said slowly. "Maybe that's the sound we should be following. . . ."
"There could be a waterfall in the stream, if only a small one," Yami Bakura said.
"The stream could even be mostly quiet except for something dripping," Mr. Bakura added.
Bakura sank down on a log, suddenly overwhelmed. "What are we ever going to do?" he moaned.
Mr. Bakura sat down next to him. "There has to be some simple solution to this," he said. "Isn't that how riddles always are---the answer is right in front of you, only you can't see it?"
"Generally, yes," Yami Bakura said. "It's part of what makes them so maddening." He remained standing, looking at their surroundings with narrowed eyes.
"The trees here are mostly dark green in color, like emeralds," he mused. "Especially down the right-hand path."
Bakura looked up, his eyes widening. "Could that be it?" he said. "'Emerald stream'. . . . Could it possibly have a double meaning, and also be talking about those trees?" He stood, gazing down the path. "They are all in a row," he mused, "like a stream. . . ."
"That's good enough for me," Mr. Bakura said, getting off the log. "Let's go."
Yami Bakura grunted, but followed them as they started down the trail. The trees waved as they went, seeming pleased---or at least docile.
And then, suddenly, something flew right in his face.
"Well, that took you long enough to figure out!" a high-pitched female voice declared.
Yami Bakura flinched at the invasion to his personal space. Then he stepped back, his visage twisting in annoyance. "What business do you have spying on us?" he demanded.
It was as he had feared; the thing hovering in front of him was a fairy. Her long purple hair cascaded down her back, the flow only broken by the four shimmering wings beating too fast to be clearly seen. The lighter-colored dress that covered most of her small body looked to be made of some kind of lavender flower petals.
By now Bakura and his father had both paused, looking back in amazement and astonishment. Mr. Bakura looked to his son, confused.
"Do fairies usually present themselves to people like that?" he wondered.
Bakura shook his head. "I have no idea," he said.
The fairy, meanwhile, had placed her hands on her hips and was glaring at Yami Bakura. "Watch it, mister!" she scolded. "Not everyone has the privilege of being studied by one of the fae."
"I would have been perfectly content if the privilege had been indefinitely withheld," Yami Bakura snarled, moving to walk past her.
The fairy just blinked, suddenly looking confused herself. "Wait a minute!" she said. "You're not the one who solved the riddle."
Embarrassed, Bakura raised his hand. "That was me," he said.
"Oh." The magical being looked him up and down. "My mistake. You big people all look alike to me." She shrugged. "Anyway, down to business. You're looking for the Door, aren't you?"
Bakura blinked. "How did you know?" he asked.
She smirked, looking pleased with herself. "No one enters these woods unless they're trying to find the old wizard . . . or unless they're stupid enough to have gotten lost. And all of you are carrying bags of supplies. Plus, you've heard about the emerald stream. So naturally, I deduce that you've been sent by the queen, just starting on your quest. Not to mention, I've seen people with clothes like yours before."
Bakura rubbed the back of his neck. "That's all true," he said slowly. "And . . . well, the queen said we'll need a . . ."
"A forest fairy to guide you!" the purple-haired girl said with a knowing smile, flying out ahead. "And that would be me---Thistle! I'm the official guide for all the big people that come through here."
Mr. Bakura frowned, suspicious. "What do you want in payment?" he inquired.
She slowed her flitting and looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm a collector," she said. "I pick up all kinds of stuff from your culture and use it to make shiny things. So all I want from you is some trinkets of yours." Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of the Infinity Ring around Yami Bakura's neck. "And I'll be taking this!" She flew over, trying to grasp it in her tiny hands.
Yami Bakura cried out in surprise and frustration. "This is mine!" he retorted. "You can't have it!" He brushed the fairy away, clutching the Ring to his chest.
Thistle righted herself and flew at him again, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. "Then I won't help you!" she snapped. "I want your big shiny ring thing!"
"I couldn't give it to you even if I wanted," Yami Bakura countered, "and I never would want to!"
"Please!" Bakura rushed between them. "Isn't there some other way we could resolve this?" He looked pleadingly at Thistle. "He needs that Ring; it's his lifeforce. Without it, he's only a spirit."
She stared at him. "I knew I sensed another aura around him," she said. "A really old one." She frowned, studying the annoyed thief again. "Coming to think of it, I haven't seen clothes like his in a long time."
She shrugged now. "I guess I could spare the Ring, but it'll cost you even more," she said.
Bakura slid his pack off of his shoulders. "What kinds of things do you like?" he asked, digging through the bag.
She flew over and perched on the edge of it. "I like these!" she said, lifting out a lightweight flashlight and clicking it on.
Bakura gawked. "But it'll be so dark in here at night," he protested. "We'll need to be able to see!"
"If you do everything right, you should be out of here before nightfall!" Thistle replied. "And you can get more of these in the villages." She clicked it on and off several more times.
Mr. Bakura crossed his arms, not pleased. "Is there anything else you like?" he asked.
Yami Bakura stepped forward. "This is ridiculous," he said. "We can't give up our supplies. Let's just find another fairy. Or better yet, just keep going on our own."
Thistle dropped the flashlight into the bag and flew up, giving him a smug look. "The others might want a bigger price, if they'll help you at all," she said. "Everyone knows I drive the best bargains for big people. I'm willing to let go of that Ring, for instance. Some of the others might not be!"
Her smirk widened. "And you'll never make it on your own," she went on. "Everyone also knows you need a fairy to get into the wizard's property! There's a barrier around it that can only be broken by the white magic of certain beings. In the forest, fairies are the only ones who qualify!"
Bakura rocked back. "Oh dear. . . ." He stared into the bag, then back at the confident fairy. "Do you need every one of our flashlights?" he asked.
She sighed. "Well, I guess in a pinch I could leave you with one," she said. "But then I'd want something in place of it!"
". . . I have a watch," Mr. Bakura suggested. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing an expensive timepiece.
Thistle flew over, lifting his wrist and examining it from every angle. "I'll take it!" she declared, peering at her faint reflection in the glass.
Mr. Bakura sighed in relief. "Do you want it now?" he asked.
"I'll take all payment after I've helped you," Thistle said. "It's just possible your price might get even bigger before we're done!"
"'Even bigger'?!" Yami Bakura cried. "Are you trying to rob us blind?!"
Bakura laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just go with it for now, Yami," he said quietly. "It sounds like we do need her help. We don't want to make her upset."
Yami Bakura smoldered. "I hate fairies," he muttered.
Title: Burning Starfire
Author/Artist: Lucky_Ladybug/insaneladybug
Pairing: Ryou Bakura & Yami Bakura
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Theme: #12 - Emerald Streams
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and the story is!
Cross-posted to http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5765057/4/ and ladybug_tales.
Chapter Four
Inside the Magic Holds
Prompt: #12 - Emerald Streams
"I'll never forgive you!"
Yami Bakura shot upright in the fancy bed, the silk comforter slipping from his bare shoulders. Breathing heavily, he stared out at the darkened room, lit only by the moonlight through the window. Then he slumped back into the soft pillow, passing a hand over his eyes.
A recurring dream, eh? That was worse than ever. He did not want to see this every night. The more he saw it, the more it was going to bother him. And he had really almost forgotten it since last night. To be reminded so suddenly brought all of his past feelings concerning it on him again. As if he did not have enough to think about.
He growled, rolling onto his side. What had Yami Marik done to them? Trapped in a world with giant crows and wizards and fairies, forced to set out on a quest for a Door that no one had ever passed. . . . And he could not shake the feeling that the wretch was always watching them. It made him feel like a specimen under a microscope.
Not to mention that something still felt wrong to him about this whole set-up. Why would the queen go out looking for trouble? Why would she bring strangers to the palace without a second thought? She seemed righteous and noble, but was she really? And had she told them the truth about anything that was happening in this crazy land?
After dinner, she had told them they needed to beware of Fafnir's men on their journey. He was a man revered by the people as a national hero, yet was secretly trying to usurp the kingdom for himself. No evil deeds could be directly linked to his name, but there was a small group of rebels in one of the villages who were trying to prove his guilt.
Yami Bakura was inclined to take everything with a grain of salt. Perhaps Fafnir was the villain, but on the other hand, perhaps he was the hero and the queen was the villain, with a devious ulterior motive behind her seeming goodness.
Or perhaps Yami Bakura was just a suspicious old grouch.
He stiffened, coming to attention at the sound of the door inching open. A stream of light entered at the edge of the room, a familiar shadow appearing within it.
"What is it?" he growled.
The silhouetted form belonging to the shadow froze. "I'm sorry, Yami," Bakura apologized. "I . . . I couldn't sleep and I wondered if you were awake. . . ."
Yami Bakura tiredly gestured with his hand. "Come in," he said.
Bakura hesitated. "If you were trying to sleep . . ."
"I'm wide awake. Come in or go out."
Bakura slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He stepped onto the woven rug, then walked over to the bed and sank onto the edge of the mattress.
"It's so strange here, Yami," he said quietly, staring at the floor. The pajamas he had been given hung loosely on his slender frame, somehow making him look even more dejected than he actually was.
"That's an understatement." Yami Bakura came up on one elbow, watching him. The boy looked so bewildered and lost.
Bakura turned to give him a sideways look. "What do you think will happen to us tomorrow?" he wondered. "When we find the wizard and he tests us. . . ."
"I've never been tested by a wizard, unless Karim using the Millennium Scales on my soul counts," Yami Bakura said, his tone deliberately sardonic. "And we know how that went in the end."
"You're different now," Bakura protested. "And even then, you had a perfect right to be angry, to hate. . . ." He shook his head. "I'm just so worried. What if we can't get home?"
Yami Bakura sat up straight. "We'll get home," he said, gruff now. He felt awkward; being comforting was certainly not a strong point of his. And yet Bakura kept coming to him.
Bakura gave a weak smile. "I suppose it's terribly selfish of me, but . . . I'm really glad I'm not here alone," he said.
"Misery loves company," Yami Bakura returned.
Bakura chuckled in spite of himself. "That's not really what I meant," he said. "I don't want anyone to be miserable with me; it's just . . ." He trailed off, thinking. "It's easier to be strong when you're not alone," he finished. "When there's someone there you need to be strong for."
"Bah!" Yami Bakura rested his arm on his knee as he drew it halfway to his chest. "There's always someone you need to be strong for---yourself. You don't want to show weakness to yourself, do you?"
Bakura shifted. "Well, no . . . of course not," he said.
He looked worried again. "I wonder what we're going to do about Father now," he said. "I'm afraid he doesn't trust you at all because of that horrible Yami Marik." And he sighed. "But still . . . I suppose I am kind of glad the truth is out. I never did like keeping it from him."
"There's really nothing we can 'do' about him," Yami Bakura said. "If he doesn't trust me, he just doesn't. I can't control that and neither can you."
"I know. . . ." Bakura looked sad. "But he was just starting to warm up to you a little. I don't want him to feel like you're our enemy. . . ."
Yami Bakura sighed. "If there's any way to correct it, it will just happen by itself over time," he said.
"I suppose you're right." But Bakura sounded mostly resigned and not very pleased with the answer.
He leaned back, unable to keep from yawning. "Oh my," he said somewhere through it.
"You're tired," Yami Bakura grunted. "You should sleep. It's going to be a long day."
"I know." Bakura sighed now, closing his eyes. "I feel exhausted, and yet I don't feel that certain exhaustion that leads to sleep. I've been lying awake for ages." Without really thinking, he laid down on the bed's edge, resting his head against one of the large pillows.
"I doubt we'll ever sleep in a place like this again," he remarked, toying with the opening of the pillowcase.
"Highly unlikely," Yami Bakura said.
"Yami . . ." Bakura sounded sleepier. "Did you ever sleep in fancy places like this in Egypt?"
Yami Bakura stared at him. "What a ridiculous question," he muttered.
"Well . . . I thought maybe you snuck into someone's house sometime and . . ." Bakura yawned again. "Slept in their bed when they weren't home. . . ."
"I never did," Yami Bakura grunted. "What foolish thoughts."
Bakura did not reply.
The thief looked at him in irritation. "Don't tell me you've fallen asleep in my bed," he grumbled, staring hard.
But at last his expression softened---slightly. "Foolish boy," he muttered, reaching over to lift Bakura's legs onto the bed. Bakura only burrowed deeper into the mattress. Rolling his eyes, Yami Bakura covered Bakura with half the quilt and then rolled over, moving to the other side of the mammoth bed.
I'm far too soft in my old age, he said to himself.
After laying awake a short while longer, he too, fell asleep.
****
The rest of the night and the early morning passed in peace. The travelers had breakfast in the royal dining room before packing the supplies they had been granted by the queen. Though the sky was overcast, the clouds did not look as ominous as they had the previous day. But of course, that could change in an instant. Umbrellas and a make-shift rain shelter were added to the supplies before the group was ready to leave.
Sapphire and Kade stood at the top of the west stairs, watching as the party made their way to the bottom. Kade waved, but he looked worried.
"The forest's s'pposed to be Mr. Ghost's house!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you scared?"
Bakura chuckled. "Maybe I will be when we get there," he said.
"Bah!" Yami Bakura grumbled. "Ghosts." If you only knew, child, he said to himself.
"Stay safe," Sapphire said quietly. "I'm afraid ghosts may be the least of your worries on your quest. But if you start to lose your way in the forest, just listen for the emerald stream."
"Emerald stream?" Bakura blinked in surprise.
"It's really pretty," Kade beamed. "A big, bright green!" He stretched his arms wide.
Mr. Bakura nodded. "Thank you for all of your help," he said, looking to the queen. "If there's anything we can do to repay you . . ."
Sapphire smiled. "I only ask one thing in return," she said. "That you make sure that creature doesn't bring about the ruin of this country."
"We'll do our best," Bakura said. "We might not see him again until we find the Door."
Yami Bakura remained silent, but he was certain they would be seeing Yami Marik sooner than that.
Much sooner.
****
The forest looked uninviting even from a distance. The dark trees stood close together, their branches interlocking and all but blocking out the light. The opening looked more like a black hole. Somewhere inside, something rustled and something else yowled.
"Something doesn't feel right about this place," Mr. Bakura said as they drew closer. "I mean . . . besides the obvious." He frowned. "It feels like something doesn't want us to enter."
"The very forest itself is rebuking us," Yami Bakura said. "My Ring is responding to it." He glanced at the Infinity Ring, which was steadily glowing and waning, a cycle that continued to repeat on end.
Bakura stared. "But why?" he gasped. "We aren't going to do anything wrong."
"The queen said we have to prove ourselves to the fairies," Yami Bakura said. "Perhaps we have to prove ourselves to the forest as well."
"And how do we do that?" Mr. Bakura exclaimed. "I doubt talking is going to do much good."
Bakura frowned, gazing up at the trees. Somehow they seemed so stern and cold, as if looking down in disapproval. An involuntary shudder passed through his body.
". . . Maybe we're not supposed to take anything inside that could damage the forest?" he suggested.
The trees' boughs moved calmly up and down, as if in agreement.
"And what would that be?" Yami Bakura growled, folding his arms. "Even my Ring could potentially damage the forest, and I can't take it off."
Now the trees moved their boughs up and down in fury, creating a giant breeze in his direction. He cursed in Egyptian, pulling on the edge of his kilt to keep it down while shielding his eyes at the same time.
"Blast it, I can't take it off!" he yelled. "I'm only mortal as long as I wear it!"
"And Shadi gave it to him!" Bakura exclaimed. "I don't suppose that name means anything in this world, but in our world he's a very wise and just person! Please, we swear we don't bring any harm to anything in this forest!"
"Not unless it brings harm to us first," Yami Bakura snarled.
The trees blew at him again, this time knocking him right off his feet by the force of their collected wind pressure.
Mr. Bakura gawked. Bakura ran over in concern.
"Yami!" he exclaimed, kneeling down to help the tomb-robber up.
Yami Bakura sat up on the grass, gripping the blades between his fingers. "Do those trees really expect that if something attacks us, we will simply roll over and let it happen?!" he burst out, fairly trembling with rage.
"Yami, please calm down!" Bakura gasped, placing an arm around the man's shoulders. "There has to be a way to get through that's fair to everyone!"
"I wonder if they would answer to the queen," Mr. Bakura said. Louder he said, "We've come with the blessing of the queen of your land!"
The trees shook, clearly unimpressed.
Mr. Bakura swallowed hard. "What was that she said to do if we started to lose our way?" he said.
"Something about an emerald stream," Yami Bakura growled.
"She said to listen for it," Bakura said. "But what good will that do when we can't even get inside?"
"Who knows," Yami Bakura said.
Mr. Bakura sighed, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Anything's worth a try, isn't it?" he said at last. "Let's be quiet and see if we can hear anything."
"All we've been hearing are angry trees and things screeching," Yami Bakura muttered. But he quieted anyway, straining to hear. Bakura and his father did likewise. Even the trees calmed down, willing to let them have this chance. Or maybe they were curious, wanting to see the humans fail.
". . . Maybe there is something," Bakura said at last. "Off in the distance, it sounds a bit like a rushing creek."
Yami Bakura snorted. "It's a waterfall," he grunted.
Mr. Bakura frowned. "I'm hearing what sounds like a dripping tap," he said.
Bakura rocked back. "We're each hearing something different," he said. "How can that be?"
"It's all an illusion of the mind," Yami Bakura said. "It would have to be."
Bakura started to stand. "Well, in any case, maybe if we follow the sounds, we'll find the stream," he said.
"In case you've forgotten, the trees won't let us pass," Yami Bakura said in sarcasm.
But Bakura walked up to the entrance in determination. And instead of repelling him, the trees formed their branches into an archway overhead. He stepped through in peace, then looked over his shoulder for the others. "Come on!" he called with a wave. "At least try! Something must be different."
Mr. Bakura nodded. "Ryou's right," he said. "I'm game. What about you, Thief?"
Yami Bakura growled as he got to his feet. "Don't think I'm about to give up," he said. "I have never given up before and I'm not going to start now!" With that he stormed to the entrance. But instead of being blown back, as he was fully expecting, the trees were still. When Mr. Bakura approached a moment later, he too was granted entry.
"This is so strange," Bakura said as they slowly walked ahead. "Did hearing the stream---or whatever it is---really make the difference?"
The trees trembled as they journeyed deeper, but made no move to stop them. Still, it was uneasily obvious that the ancient beings were attentive.
"It feels like a thousand pairs of eyes are watching us," Bakura said. "It's quite unsettling in and of itself, without knowing it's probably trees doing the watching. . . ."
"Stay close," Mr. Bakura instructed. "The last thing we want is to get separated."
". . . I wonder what kinds of ghosts live here," Bakura said. He looked back and forth at the trees. Were unfriendly spirits hiding behind them or in the bushes, staring at them? What if it was even them causing so much commotion instead of the trees?
Or what if it was both?
"There could be both good and bad," Yami Bakura grunted. "They might be mostly benign forest spirits. I'm not sensing anything evil at the moment . . . but that doesn't mean they're not here."
"I know," Bakura moaned.
"We still don't know where in the forest we have to go, either," Yami Bakura said. "And look up ahead---there's three paths to take."
Bakura's eyes widened. "You're right, Yami!" he breathed.
Mr. Bakura stared. "Each path looks mostly the same," he said. "There's no way of telling which one we should use."
As they drew to the heads of the trails, Bakura bit his lip. "Maybe they each lead to the same place eventually," he said. "Isn't that what Sapphire said about what happens if the wizard says you're worthy---he'll give you different directions compared to the other groups, but you all go to the same place?"
"So?" Yami Bakura said. "Are you suggesting we each take a path in the hopes that we'll meet again?"
"No . . ." Bakura said. "More like, it shouldn't matter which path we take together if they all go to the same location."
Mr. Bakura glowered at the roads. "What about the sounds of the stream?" he said. "Weren't we supposed to be following those?"
Bakura blinked. "That's true," he said. "So we should listen very carefully and see if there's one path where we can hear the stream more clearly!"
But even as the others agreed and tried to comply, the forest was not cooperating.
"I still hear a waterfall," Yami Bakura growled. "And it sounds closest to the left path."
"The dripping water is coming from the right-hand path," Mr. Bakura said.
"And I'm afraid the rushing creek is coming from the middle," Bakura said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Well, this is a fine mess," Yami Bakura growled.
Bakura shifted his weight. "I suppose a creek would sound the closest to a stream," he said slowly. "Maybe that's the sound we should be following. . . ."
"There could be a waterfall in the stream, if only a small one," Yami Bakura said.
"The stream could even be mostly quiet except for something dripping," Mr. Bakura added.
Bakura sank down on a log, suddenly overwhelmed. "What are we ever going to do?" he moaned.
Mr. Bakura sat down next to him. "There has to be some simple solution to this," he said. "Isn't that how riddles always are---the answer is right in front of you, only you can't see it?"
"Generally, yes," Yami Bakura said. "It's part of what makes them so maddening." He remained standing, looking at their surroundings with narrowed eyes.
"The trees here are mostly dark green in color, like emeralds," he mused. "Especially down the right-hand path."
Bakura looked up, his eyes widening. "Could that be it?" he said. "'Emerald stream'. . . . Could it possibly have a double meaning, and also be talking about those trees?" He stood, gazing down the path. "They are all in a row," he mused, "like a stream. . . ."
"That's good enough for me," Mr. Bakura said, getting off the log. "Let's go."
Yami Bakura grunted, but followed them as they started down the trail. The trees waved as they went, seeming pleased---or at least docile.
And then, suddenly, something flew right in his face.
"Well, that took you long enough to figure out!" a high-pitched female voice declared.
Yami Bakura flinched at the invasion to his personal space. Then he stepped back, his visage twisting in annoyance. "What business do you have spying on us?" he demanded.
It was as he had feared; the thing hovering in front of him was a fairy. Her long purple hair cascaded down her back, the flow only broken by the four shimmering wings beating too fast to be clearly seen. The lighter-colored dress that covered most of her small body looked to be made of some kind of lavender flower petals.
By now Bakura and his father had both paused, looking back in amazement and astonishment. Mr. Bakura looked to his son, confused.
"Do fairies usually present themselves to people like that?" he wondered.
Bakura shook his head. "I have no idea," he said.
The fairy, meanwhile, had placed her hands on her hips and was glaring at Yami Bakura. "Watch it, mister!" she scolded. "Not everyone has the privilege of being studied by one of the fae."
"I would have been perfectly content if the privilege had been indefinitely withheld," Yami Bakura snarled, moving to walk past her.
The fairy just blinked, suddenly looking confused herself. "Wait a minute!" she said. "You're not the one who solved the riddle."
Embarrassed, Bakura raised his hand. "That was me," he said.
"Oh." The magical being looked him up and down. "My mistake. You big people all look alike to me." She shrugged. "Anyway, down to business. You're looking for the Door, aren't you?"
Bakura blinked. "How did you know?" he asked.
She smirked, looking pleased with herself. "No one enters these woods unless they're trying to find the old wizard . . . or unless they're stupid enough to have gotten lost. And all of you are carrying bags of supplies. Plus, you've heard about the emerald stream. So naturally, I deduce that you've been sent by the queen, just starting on your quest. Not to mention, I've seen people with clothes like yours before."
Bakura rubbed the back of his neck. "That's all true," he said slowly. "And . . . well, the queen said we'll need a . . ."
"A forest fairy to guide you!" the purple-haired girl said with a knowing smile, flying out ahead. "And that would be me---Thistle! I'm the official guide for all the big people that come through here."
Mr. Bakura frowned, suspicious. "What do you want in payment?" he inquired.
She slowed her flitting and looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm a collector," she said. "I pick up all kinds of stuff from your culture and use it to make shiny things. So all I want from you is some trinkets of yours." Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of the Infinity Ring around Yami Bakura's neck. "And I'll be taking this!" She flew over, trying to grasp it in her tiny hands.
Yami Bakura cried out in surprise and frustration. "This is mine!" he retorted. "You can't have it!" He brushed the fairy away, clutching the Ring to his chest.
Thistle righted herself and flew at him again, her blue eyes narrowed in anger. "Then I won't help you!" she snapped. "I want your big shiny ring thing!"
"I couldn't give it to you even if I wanted," Yami Bakura countered, "and I never would want to!"
"Please!" Bakura rushed between them. "Isn't there some other way we could resolve this?" He looked pleadingly at Thistle. "He needs that Ring; it's his lifeforce. Without it, he's only a spirit."
She stared at him. "I knew I sensed another aura around him," she said. "A really old one." She frowned, studying the annoyed thief again. "Coming to think of it, I haven't seen clothes like his in a long time."
She shrugged now. "I guess I could spare the Ring, but it'll cost you even more," she said.
Bakura slid his pack off of his shoulders. "What kinds of things do you like?" he asked, digging through the bag.
She flew over and perched on the edge of it. "I like these!" she said, lifting out a lightweight flashlight and clicking it on.
Bakura gawked. "But it'll be so dark in here at night," he protested. "We'll need to be able to see!"
"If you do everything right, you should be out of here before nightfall!" Thistle replied. "And you can get more of these in the villages." She clicked it on and off several more times.
Mr. Bakura crossed his arms, not pleased. "Is there anything else you like?" he asked.
Yami Bakura stepped forward. "This is ridiculous," he said. "We can't give up our supplies. Let's just find another fairy. Or better yet, just keep going on our own."
Thistle dropped the flashlight into the bag and flew up, giving him a smug look. "The others might want a bigger price, if they'll help you at all," she said. "Everyone knows I drive the best bargains for big people. I'm willing to let go of that Ring, for instance. Some of the others might not be!"
Her smirk widened. "And you'll never make it on your own," she went on. "Everyone also knows you need a fairy to get into the wizard's property! There's a barrier around it that can only be broken by the white magic of certain beings. In the forest, fairies are the only ones who qualify!"
Bakura rocked back. "Oh dear. . . ." He stared into the bag, then back at the confident fairy. "Do you need every one of our flashlights?" he asked.
She sighed. "Well, I guess in a pinch I could leave you with one," she said. "But then I'd want something in place of it!"
". . . I have a watch," Mr. Bakura suggested. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing an expensive timepiece.
Thistle flew over, lifting his wrist and examining it from every angle. "I'll take it!" she declared, peering at her faint reflection in the glass.
Mr. Bakura sighed in relief. "Do you want it now?" he asked.
"I'll take all payment after I've helped you," Thistle said. "It's just possible your price might get even bigger before we're done!"
"'Even bigger'?!" Yami Bakura cried. "Are you trying to rob us blind?!"
Bakura laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just go with it for now, Yami," he said quietly. "It sounds like we do need her help. We don't want to make her upset."
Yami Bakura smoldered. "I hate fairies," he muttered.