L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix

by Stephen D. Sullivan

  As they ate, he looked at the jade amulet that hung around his neck. Already veins of darkness crept into the green stone's round surface. The evil of the Shadowlands was powerful here. He hoped he'd brought enough jade to ensure safe passage in and out of the dark kingdom.

  The mournful sound caught his ears again. Turning to Mouse, he asked, "What's that noise?"

  "Howling Mire," Mouse said. A shiver ran down her tail.

  "What makes the sound?" he asked.

  "Wailing demons," Mouse said. She closed her black eyes, bit her lower lip, and hugged herself.

  "Lowlies think that," Krree said. "Mire has demons, but noise is only an evil wind, Kra'no'krree think." He spat a bit of tough vegetable out onto the ground.

  "Krree just boasting," Chihu said, "has never felt this wind on his fur."

  "Kra'no'krree seen inside mire," Krree said, somewhat annoyed. He bared his front teeth intimidatingly at Chihu.

  "lust not far far," Chihu added, ignoring the threat. He gnawed the last bit of meat off the bone he'd been chewing, i racked it with his teeth, and sucked out the marrow.

  Krree frowned. "Some day," he said, "Chihu's courage will be tested. Then we see how brave Chihu is."

  "Hope courage will not be tested until wedding day," Chihu said, "understand those dangers." He grinned broadly, showing all his teeth. The other nezumi only smiled weakly in return. The strangeness of the Shadowlands had begun to weigh down their spirits.

  Soon, the four companions resumed their journey.

  In the Master of Earth's soul, the call of the earth lessened, livil gradually overwhelmed it. At the center of that evil sat Yogo Junzo, and beyond Junzo lay his undead master. They were traveling in the right direction.

  The plants they passed became more stunted and flabby as I hey approached the mire. Long whitish tendrils, some as thick .is tree branches, covered the earth.

  One of these tendrils snared Mouse's leg. Tadaka hacked the root off quickly, but the encounter left the ratling girl shaken.

  They came suddenly upon the edge of the mire. Chihu put his foot out and discovered that the earth beneath his paw was no longer solid. He squealed as the mire sucked at his shin, t h reatening to pull him under. Tadaka and Krree grabbed him by the armpits and dragged him out.

  Chihu sat on the solid ground at the mire's edge and panted. "Enough courage test, Chihu think."

  Tadaka looked at his three companions. The ratlings tried to hide their fear. They were a proud, brave people. Their courage impressed the Master of Earth. "I don't need all of you to go with me," Tadaka said, "just one. The rest of you can go back to your tribe. It will not be a stain upon your honor. I thank you for taking me this far."

  "Give our word to Ke-o-kecha," Krree said. "We all go with you."

  "Besides," Chihu added, "three luckier than one." He said it bravely, but his voice trembled.

  Though still shaking, Mouse nodded her head.

  "Very well," said Tadaka. "But you may leave at any time, so long as one remains to guide me to Junzo's lair."

  The ratlings nodded their heads and bowed slightly. They were with him on this road to Jigoku until they achieved their objective or death took them. The Master of Earth calmed his mind and drew strength from one of the untainted stones concealed within his sleeve.

  He peered into the iridescent fog of the Howling Mire. Titan shapes loomed in the gray darkness—great Shadowlands trees, gnarled and twisted by the swamp's black waters. The branches bore no leaves, though some hung with vines or tendrils.

  Patches of earth dotted the mire, rotting soil covered with fungus and spiny plants. In some places, the ground appeared solid, but such a spot had nearly claimed Chihu. They couldn't trust anything on looks alone. Nothing in the Shadowlands was what it appeared to be.

  A low, distant wailing, like the cries of dying men, suffused the air.

  "Is there no path around the bog?" Tadaka asked Mouse.

  "No," Mouse answered. "This only track. Careful careful. Many dangers."

  "Do you know the way?" the Master of Earth asked.

  She nodded. "Walking slow, though."

  "Slow slow, if stand and talk," said Krree.

  "Could make boat," suggested Chihu. He shaded his black eyes with one long hand and cast his gaze to the mire's tall trees. He frowned and wiggled his whiskers.

  "Tree juice deadly," Mouse said. "Saw lobuck rub antlers on one. Fell down dead. Mouse won't cut bad trees."

  "Danger danger in water, too, Kra'no'krree guesses," Krree added.

  "Then we'll pick our way through," Tadaka said. He looked at Mouse.

  The young lady ratling shivered. She scanned the perimeter. Finding a likely place, she led Tadaka and her fellows into the Unaru Numa.

  They traveled from one stand of vegetation to another. Thistlemoss stung the nezumi's toes, but they wrapped cloths •iround their feet and continued bravely onward. On the bough of a great fallen tree, the group took supper. They'd seen some small animals earlier during their hike but saw none now. The swamp was drained of life. The only sound was the mire's omnipresent mournful wailing.

  When supper was finished, Tadaka led the nezumi toward the next sward of sickly vegetation. He'd just reached the shore when suddenly the log shook. The ratlings tottered, throwing their arms wide and using their tails for balance.

  On the mossy ground at the trunk's end, Tadaka looked back. He turned in time to see a huge shape emerge from the mire. It surfaced like a breaching whale, thrusting tons of mud and black water aside. The swamp's stagnant air howled at the monster's arrival.

  The creature's great jaws gaped wide, half again as tall as a man. Mouse, Chihu, and Krree screamed. Before Tadaka could do anything, the jaws snapped shut. The great log splintered as the creature took a huge bite. Along with the wood went Krree.

  Mouse and Chihu scampered off the log.

  Tadaka reached into his sleeve and threw a stone. He spoke a word of power. The stone grew as large as a boulder.

  The creature dived back into the mire. The monster sank in a roil of bubbles and vanished from sight, taking Krree with it. The last Tadaka and the others saw of their friend was his tail, pro-t ruding from the muck monster's mouth.

  Tadaka's boulder splashed harmlessly into the swamp.

  Mouse wailed piteously and started to cry; Chihu gibbered incoherently. Tadaka forced them back, away from the water, putting his own body between the nezumi and the menace. He scanned the mire's surface with his keen eyes, but saw only ebony water. Eventually, the mire's howl died down, and the bubbles subsided.

  "I'm sorry," Tadaka finally said.

  "It eat him! It eat him!" Chihu babbled. He picked up a stone and threw it defiantly at the water.

  "We should move," Tadaka said, "in case the creature comes back. I doubt this small, wet island would be much protection."

  That roused the nezumi. The trio quickly picked their way off the small stand and away from the ruined tree trunk. As they walked, over broken lands and through waist-deep waters, the eerie sound of the mire grew steadily louder.

  They should have stopped to rest, but after Krree's accident, none of them wanted to. Tadaka kept his senses open, determined not to be caught off guard again. Mouse maintained a steady direction through the tangled gloom.

  After a time, Chihu turned to Mouse and asked, "Why you know this place deep deep in mire? Rest of pack do not."

  "Gin'nabo-rrr did, " Mouse said quietly, "before he killed by dark ones. Mouse follow him couple times. Once, got lost. Monster chase far far into mire. When stopped running, had reached solid ground. Saw fortress of dark ones." Her tail shook with the thought. She paused before continuing quietly, "Took many walks and many sleeps to find home again."

  Chihu and Tadaka nodded. The trees in the swamp grew so thick the trio had to climb between the trunks to pass. Tadaka found a place for them to rest in a cleft above the muck. They sheltered and slept awhile.

  When they resumed their journey, the gn
arled trees became shorter. The blighted wood thinned out, and the companions walked in the mud. Tadaka and the nezumi found some fallen branches stripped of bark and denuded of poison. They cut the branches into staffs and probed the waters in front of them. Always they watched and listened for bubbles and other signs of monsters. All they heard, though, was the mire's eerie dirge. The companions saw strange fauna, including a rabbitlike creature with feet shaped like small canoes. No animals threatened them, though.

  By lunchtime, Tadaka and his guides reached a spot where the great trees vanished completely. Before the travelers stretched a vast pool, dotted with tree stumps. The wailing was almost unbearable here, filling the fog-shrouded air with a numbing drone. All three covered their ears.

  "Almost there," Mouse said, gasping for breath in the moist atmosphere. Her fur shivered, and her whiskers trembled. " Beyond waste lies fortress of Evil One."

  Tadaka nodded. "Yosh." He peered into the gloom.

  What at first had looked like tree stumps were actually some kind of flora—short and squat, with long broad roots and no apparent leaves. A hole gaped in the side of each plant. The howling noise emanated from the holes. It sounded like the wail of restless spirits.

  "You scent that?" Chihu asked loudly above the howling.

  Tadaka detected a faint, cloying sweetness in the torpid air. "Smells like honey."

  Chihu nodded. "Think there is honey in stumps?"

  "If there is," Tadaka said, "it's unfit to eat. We should move along." He walked forward, probing with his stick. The ratlings followed. The stagnant water was knee-deep and seemed free of sudden drop-offs.

  "Did Mouse sniff smell here before?" Chihu asked.

  The female nezumi shook her head and laid her ears back. "No," she said. "Just wanted get home."

  "Wouldn't hurt to look," Chihu said thoughtfully. "If find honey, we have treat." Before Tadaka could stop him, he walked to one of the stumps and stuck his nose near the hole.

  As his whiskers brushed the surface of the plant, the maw in the side suddenly snapped shut with violent force. Chihu jumped back. The wailing from the stump grew louder.

  "Are you all right?" Tadaka asked.

  Chihu put his hands on his black nose and wiggled his snout. " Nothing missing, Chihu think."

  "You were lucky," Tadaka said. "Don't do anything like that again. I thought after Krree you would be more careful."

  Chihu nodded and hung his head. He joined the shugenja and Mouse, plodding listlessly behind them.

  They passed deep into the swamp of stumps. The plants grew taller and broader as they went. Eventually, the roots choked off the brackish water of the mire. The huge tendrils wound themselves into a tangle, like a vast woven basket. As the stumps grew taller, their maws got wide enough to swallow a ratling—or a man. The noise grew louder in proportion to the stumps' height.

  Just as it seemed the travelers could stand the clamor no longer, the plants suddenly gave way to a rocky slope. The stone was mostly black. Putrescent green veins ran through it, but still the companions were glad of its dryness. They scrambled up the slope, found a flat spot, and paused to rest.

  They ate briefly, and Tadaka took the time to meditate. He hardly felt the good earth now, so deep was it buried. His heart shrank at the remoteness of pure stone.

  While the Phoenix shugenja rested and Mouse cleaned her matted fur, Chihu walked back down the slope, near to the stump forest. He was careful to stay well away from the black waters, even the small pools between the roots.

  "Take that, screaming demons!" he yelled, waving his hands in the air. "We make it through! Song didn't drive nezumi mad. Clever pack avoid teeth of biting stumps!"

  He capered up and down, inventing a festive dance. He turned and wagged his tail disapprovingly at the stump forest.

  Hearing the commotion, Tadaka opened his eyes and stood up. "Chihu! Stop being foolish! Get away from there!" He fixed his stern gaze on the young ratling.

  Chihu shrugged his shoulders and stopped his dance. He scrambled up the slope again. Stooping, he picked a black stone from the slope. He turned and flung it with all his might at the largest of the stump trees. The stone sailed through the air and into the great plant's gaping maw. The hole snapped shut, only to open again a moment later.

  "Eat that!" Chihu cried triumphantly.

  The howling from the tree grew louder. The thick scent of honey filled the air.

  Chihu turned and started to climb the slope once more.

  Mouse screamed. "Chihu, look look.'"

  Chihu spun so quickly that he nearly toppled off the rock.

  A great glowing cloud belched forth from the maw of the stump. At first the cloud appeared to be greenish smoke. Then it resolved itself into hundreds of floating shapes.

  The creatures looked like iridescent jellyfish, with transparent bodies filled with pallid green and purple innards. Long, whiplike tentacles trailed each bloated, undulating body. Some were as small as a fist. Others were as large as a man's head. The translucent jellies jetted through the air like squid swimming through water. They flew together in a great school, wailing hideously.

  The swarm whirled aimlessly for a moment. Then it turned and angled straight toward the companions.

  Tadaka reached out with his spirit, commanding the stone around them to form a barrier against the blighted hoard. His mind sought control, looked for sympathy, but found none. The black rock of the Shadowlands resisted the Master of Earth's power.

  Mouse screamed as the howling, multiarmed blobs dived on them.

  THE SWORD OF THE PHOENIX

  chiba Ujimitsu leapt from the rocks and onto the ogre's back. The Shintao priestesses screamed as they saw him, not understanding that their salvation was at hand.

  Ujimitsu plunged his wakizashi into the nape of the ogre's neck, burying the short sword almost to the hilt. The giant's hard vertebrae turned the blade aside. Instead of severing the monster's spine, Ujimitsu had merely angered the brute.

  The ogre roared and flexed its mighty muscles, shrugging Ujimitsu from its back as if he were a fly. The wakizashi stuck. The monster whirled, and Ujimitsu ducked under its giant fist. The punch splintered a small tree behind the Phoenix Champion, and Ujimitsu leapt away.

  A thousand ancestors clamored in Ujimitsu's head, each offering advice on how to slay the monster. Ujimitsu fought the noise down just in time to avoid a follow-up blow. He drew

  his katana and slashed it across the ogre's knuckles. It howled in pain.

  Ujimitsu jumped back to give himself time to breathe.

  The priestesses whom the ogre had attacked fled pell-mell down the mountain trail. Past the cliff, they darted into the tall trees, heading directly toward the monastery.

  The Phoenix Champion smiled. He had bought their escape.

  The ogre recovered a club it had dropped earlier. It bellowed defiance and came at the flame-clad samurai. The ogre swung.

  Ujimitsu ducked aside, his gold and red kimono flapping. He aimed a cut at the giant's midsection. His sword drew blood before the ogre's club slapped the blade away.

  One of the voices whispered an idea to Ujimitsu. He nodded. As the ogre charged, Ujimitsu leapt high, over its head. The ogre tried to grab him but missed. As he jumped, the Phoenix Champion raked his blade across the monster's eyes. The katana creased the monster's brow, just above the nose. Blood spurted in crimson gouts. The ogre roared in pain. Ujimitsu landed lightly on his feet behind the monster.

  "Ho, beast!" he called defiantly. "You can't be very tough if you're having trouble with a little fellow like me!"

  The ogre turned at the sound. It tried to blink the blood out of its eyes, but couldn't. Waving its club wildly, it charged at the sound of Ujimitsu's voice.

  At the last second, the Phoenix Champion ducked under the club and between the ogre's legs. He slashed his katana across the ogre's hamstrings; the monster's knees buckled. Ujimitsu put his sandal to the ogre's backside and pushed.

  The bru
te fell, screaming, over the cliff. It struck several trees on its way down, sending splinters and pine needles into the air. The ogre didn't stop until it reached the rocks ten stories below. Sharp boulders dashed out the monster's brains.

  Ujimitsu stood atop the cliff, sweating. His breath came in short but satisfied gasps. He wiped his brow and gazed down the cliff, where the ogre's body lay like a broken doll. Bemusedly, he wondered how long it would take to recover his wakizashi.

  Ujimitsu didn't have much time to rest. Time and space blurred for the Phoenix Champion; he seemed to be needed

  everywhere at once. He entered the "Way of the Warrior."

  I kittle ran into battle, day into night, week into week. He ate when he could, slept less often, and almost never stopped moving. He exhausted many horses, but Shiba Ujimitsu himself never tired. He had been born to this job.

  The battle fog lifted, and he found Tsukune in Asahina lands. I ler t roops stood between Hoturi's undead army and a river. The water was too deep and swift for the horses—even a strong swimmer would have trouble surviving the raging cascade.

  Ujimitsu saw all this from a mountaintop nearby. The spirit of his ancestors had whispered to him, leading him here—to this moment in time. A cold waterfall rushed beside him, falling over snow-dappled mountains into a deep pool. The pool turned into the ice-rimmed river that hemmed in Tsukune.

  The Phoenix Champion inhaled deeply and dived, riding the w.ilerfall down. He plunged beneath the surface of the pool, cold tugging at his limbs. He surfaced, gulped air, and swam downstream.

  Shiba Tsukune barked orders to her samurai. They formed a wall of spears between the body of their force and the advancing Shadowlands warriors. Black arrows flew from enemy bows. Sever. il struck Tsukune's mount, and it fell, taking her down with it. The Phoenix general cursed her luck with horses.

  The Shadowlands force charged. Phoenix spears pierced their pale bodies, but they kept coming. Death was no deterrent for the army of Doji Hoturi.

  Pulling herself from under her horse, Tsukune heard the screams of her dying comrades. She struggled to her feet and winced. Her left ankle was sprained. "Form up! Form up!" she tailed to her samurai. "Ganbari masu! Don't give up!"