For hours, they practiced going up and down the dōjō until their limbs ached and their movements were barely audible.
“As defense against intruders, samurai castle had nightingale floors to squeak when person walk on them,” said Sensei Iwamoto. “When you can cross nightingale floor without waking nightingale, you can truly walk like shinobi.”
Afterward they sparred. Kate was paired with Kristjan, the Ice Man. He was much bigger and stronger than Kate, but she seemed to be holding her own. Kristjan was the only student who never displayed his special ability, and this made Cormac wary of him. It still puzzled him why Kristjan had flown the helicopter that day when they were rescued from the attack on the highway.
“Your skills, strength, and fitness will improve each day,” said the sensei at the end of the lesson. “Although weapons training does not begin until year two, I have a gift for you.”
He laid out thirteen pouches made from the same material as their suits. From his own pouch, he removed a handful of small star-shaped steel blades. From his history class, Cormac recognized them as shuriken.
Sensei Iwamoto flicked the blades at the wall. They flew through the air and struck a wooden target with five successive thunks.
“Traditionally, these were dipped in poison,” explained the sensei, “but ours not so lethal. Your shuriken are full with powerful anesthetic, which is released only on contact with certain tissue. They strike tree or wall, they not activate. Only human or animal tissue trigger the compressed gas, inject chemicals into bloodstream, and cause unconsciousness in seconds.”
Everyone gasped.
“We use these in next lesson. They not to be used anywhere else in Renkondo.”
Cormac removed one of the shuriken and looked down at the polished metal. The idea of weapons training was fun, but the thought that he might have to use these on another human being sent a shiver through his body.
The students sat on the floor chatting as they put on their socks and boots. Cormac glanced over at Ghost, who sat on his own, his head cocked to one side, as if listening to something, his lips moving in a silent mantra.
Ghost looked up and Cormac smiled, but Ghost’s eyes were full of suspicion. Then he stood and marched out of the dōjō.
What’s his problem? Cormac got to his feet, wincing as his aching leg muscles screamed in protest. He ran out into the corridor. “Ghost!”
Ghost glanced behind him but kept walking.
When Cormac caught up, he grabbed Ghost by the arm. Ghost spun around, swinging a right hook. The fist caught Cormac on the mouth, whirling him backward into the wall. Pain surged up the side of his jaw and a warm bitter taste coated his tongue. He spat blood on the ground.
“You moron!” said Cormac, shoving Ghost into the wall.
“Hey!” said Kate, suddenly appearing. She jumped between them and pushed them apart. “What’s going on?”
Cormac spat out more blood. “This jerk just punched me.”
Kate looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “What did you say to him?”
“I was trying to be friendly,” said Cormac, glaring at Ghost. “I don’t know why I bother.”
Kate raised her eyebrows. “What’s going on, Ghost?”
He stared at the ground. “Nothing.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
He had a wild look in his eyes. “I don’t know … ”
His head jerked to one side as if he’d heard something. He listened intently for a few seconds before returning his gaze to Kate, his eyes now burning with intensity. “I’m here to become a ninja. Nothing must get in the way.”
“Since when is being someone’s friend getting in the way?”
“You guys do not get my message. I do not want to be a friend. Now leave me alone. Forever.”
“There’s something strange going on here,” said Kate as they watched Ghost walk away from them.
Cormac grunted.
“We need to keep a closer eye on him,” said Kate.
Cormac rubbed his jaw. “That’s difficult when he keeps avoiding us.”
“Then maybe we need to get someone else to keep an eye on him.”
Time to go.
Ghost moaned and turned over in his sleep. Every night, Miguel woke him, whispering about the things they used to do together in the favela. At first, Ghost had found it comforting, but the more it had continued, the more it felt like Miguel was haunting him.
Tonight we do it.
Ghost blinked several times in the darkness. Why won’t you tell me what this task is?
Please don’t make me angry again.
Ghost remembered what had happened in the dining room. He didn’t want to risk it happening again.
Under the bedsheet, he removed his underpants and climbed naked out of the bunk. The cool air chilled his sweat-coated body. He shivered and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sound of Cormac’s breathing. He concentrated, and slowly his mind emptied. When it was a blank sheet, he breathed out, purging his body of everything, including air. He didn’t breathe back in.
Hurry up.
Resist! he told himself. Resist until your body forces you to take a breath. Now! He straightened and gasped, refilling his starving lungs with air.
Tonight—
The wave of icy coldness cut off Miguel’s voice and passed through Ghost like an arctic wind. Though he hated the way it penetrated his soul, he liked how it banished Miguel, even if it was only temporarily.
… to do this.
Invisible, Ghost stepped into the corridor and eyeballed the blinking camera.
He quickened his pace, his brother’s voice guiding him through the corridors. Miguel had told him nothing about the task ahead. He’d said to trust him, and that once it was over he’d leave Ghost alone.
If it meant Miguel could rest in peace and stop haunting Ghost, then it would be worth it, whatever “it” was.
A few turns later, he arrived at the glass-paneled control room. Inside, two people worked on computers.
Go in.
He pushed down on the handle and eased the door open just enough to squeeze through.
Look to your left. Behind that cardboard box is a small bottle and a cloth.
How does he know all this?
It really freaked him out that not only could Miguel speak to him but he also seemed to be able to see through his eyes. Whatever he saw, Miguel also saw.
Clenching his teeth, Ghost moved toward the box. A couple of feet away, with her back to him, a woman keyed information into a computer from a long roll of paper. Keeping his eyes on her, he reached over and found the bottle and cloth.
Put a small amount of liquid on the cloth, but do not breathe it in. A few seconds over her mouth should be enough.
What? Please, Miguel, no …
Just do it!
There was something in the tone that made the voice sound different from Miguel’s, but he’d promised himself that he’d never ignore Miguel again.
Ghost pushed aside his doubts, unscrewed the bottle, and poured a few drops onto the cloth, the strong chemical smell making his eyes water. He placed the damp cloth in his palm and, keeping it down by his side, he crept up behind the woman, then placed it firmly over her mouth. Her hands flew to the cloth, but just as her warm fingers met Ghost’s icy ones, her body went limp and her head flopped forward.
He tried to ease her down to the desk, but lost his grip as her dead weight brought her head crashing onto the keyboard.
On the opposite side of the room, the man shouted something in Japanese. He dashed over to the inert body of his colleague and shook her. Ghost grabbed him from behind and clamped the cloth over his mouth. The man was strong and struggled to free himself from the invisible force. They crashed backward, Ghost falling into a chair with the man sitting on his lap. Ghost pressed harder on the cloth until the energy ebbed from his captive. He wriggled from underneath, leaving the unconscious body slumped in the chair.
Good.
Now put him back at his station.
Ghost wheeled the man back in front of the security-camera feeds. He let the body lie forward on the desk so that from the outside he’d look asleep. He prayed the two controllers were OK, told himself this would soon be over and that they’d never know he’d been here.
The wall of screens showed various corridors, rooms, and outside views. One showed the Moon Sword in its glass case.
Shut down the cameras.
Why?
Just do it, Ghost!
Ghost stopped. Something was definitely wrong. Miguel had never called him Ghost. Because he had only become Ghost after the fire, after Miguel died …
Sometimes you don’t sound like my little brother.
A dart of pain stabbed at Ghost’s brain, reminding him of Miguel’s power.
Use the computer, Ghost …
Fighting the pain in his head, Ghost tapped the keys as Miguel told him, and the message “All security cams disabled” popped up on the monitor.
Now go to the East Tunnel. Quickly!
The East Tunnel was deserted, and Ghost soon reached the huge steel security door that he’d seen on their first day on the way to the sword ceremony. This time it was open. He slipped through and walked down the concrete tunnel, lined with those deadly sensors in the walls. Disabled now. He hoped.
Where was Miguel taking him? The only room down here is the sword room. He stopped.
Fifty feet away was indeed the sword room, and facing him were three armed guards.
Don’t make a sound. One clumsy step, and they’ll shoot, even if they can’t see you. All you have to do is get close. I’ll tell you what to do next.
“UP WAKE! UP WAKE!”
Kate opened her eyes. Chloe’s heavy breathing drifted down from the top bunk. Kate flicked on the bedside lamp to find Savage on her pillow, whiskers twitching.
She sat up. “What’s wrong?”
“Left his room did your friend.”
“Ghost?”
The mouse nodded.
Kate leaped out of bed and changed into her shōzoku. Slipping Savage into her pocket, she stepped into the dimly lit corridor. At the end of the passageway, the red eye of a camera winked at her.
She tapped on Cormac and Ghost’s door, but there was no answer. She pressed the handle down and slipped inside. Their bathroom door was open a crack, casting a sliver of light onto the bunk beds. Cormac lay curled up on the bottom, but the upper bunk was empty. She checked the bathroom. It was empty too.
“Cormac,” she whispered, shaking him awake.
“What the heck, Ghost,” he mumbled, leaning up on one elbow. “Do we have to do this every—” His green eyes widened. “Kate?”
“Where’s Ghost?”
Cormac rubbed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“His bed’s empty.”
He sat up, looked around the room, then frowned at Kate. “How did you know?”
“Savage told me.”
“Savage? Who the heck is Savage?”
Kate pulled out the mouse. “Meet Savage.”
Cormac leaned closer to look at him. “Um, hello,” he said, eyebrows arched.
“I asked Savage to keep an eye on Ghost since he’s been acting so weird. I figured there was something he wasn’t telling us.” She put her hand on Cormac’s arm. “We have to find him.”
Cormac got out of bed and grabbed his shōzoku.
Kate smiled at his Superman underwear. “Nice boxers.”
“I’m kind of fond of them,” stuttered Cormac as he got dressed. “They’re all I have left from home.”
Outside the bedroom door, they pulled on their cowls and followed the mouse past the security camera. Kate was surprised when no alarm sounded. Maybe something’s wrong? She shook away the thought. The place was packed with security features—not to mention all the ninjas.
They entered the circular room and took the East Tunnel. When they passed by a second camera and still weren’t apprehended, the thought that something wasn’t right resurfaced in Kate’s mind. As she wondered what it could be, she crashed into Sensei Iwamoto and two shinobi guards.
In an instant, Kate and Cormac were knocked to the ground and their arms tied behind their backs.
When their hoods were removed, Sensei Iwamoto looked at them with something worse than anger: disappointment. Kate wondered if it was partly because they’d allowed themselves to be captured so easily. More than two months of ninja training in the arts of zanshin and self-defense, and they’d been overpowered like mere beginners.
“I’m sorry,” Kate blurted. She felt terrible for breaking the rules and betraying the trust of the Black Lotus, after all they’d done for her. The sensei shot her a sharp glance but said nothing.
The shinobi led Kate and Cormac back the way they’d come—into the circular room and up the North Tunnel past the sleeping quarters. At the end of the tunnel they turned left and continued on into the map room.
Kate shot Cormac a glance. Why are we here?
Makoto was waiting there with the Jōnin. The guards untied Cormac and Kate and shoved them forward. They knelt and bowed as they’d been trained to do.
Makoto stared at them. “Why were you out of your rooms?”
Kate took a deep breath. “We were looking for Ghost. He’s missing—”
Makoto raised his hand for her to be quiet. He held his finger to his earpiece and listened. After a few seconds, he looked at the Jōnin’s face, framed by long silver hair. “All security systems are down.”
The Jōnin closed his eyes.
“Sensei Iwamoto, alert the Fuyu,” commanded Makoto.
Sensei Iwamoto bowed and left with the two shinobi.
The Jōnin stared at Cormac and Kate, his blue eyes suffused with light as if a fire were glowing behind them.
“How did you know which way Ghost went?” asked Makoto.
Kate cleared her throat. “Savage … that’s my pet mouse. You know I can talk to animals, right?”
“Can your mouse take us to Ghost?” asked Makoto.
“If we can find him,” answered Kate. “Your guards probably scared him off.”
She rummaged in one of her pockets and took out a piece of cookie. She broke off a few crumbs and sprinkled them on the floor.
The two men’s eyes darted to the door and followed the movements of a little brown mouse scurrying across the floor. Savage got to the crumbs and started eating. Kate smiled, looking down at her friend. “You know what they say: The way to a mouse’s heart is through his stomach.”
SENSEI IWAMOTO HAD SHOWN THEM how to walk like shinobi, and now Ghost put it into practice, moving carefully toward the guards. All the time he kept his eyes on them, but they never moved a muscle—they were like statues with guns. He circled the closest guard and approached him from behind. When he dared go no closer, he crouched and waited for Miguel’s instructions.
Closer.
Ghost moved closer until he could reach out and touch the guard.
On the guard’s belt is a stun gun. Grab it and shoot him in the neck. Then drop the gun.
Shoot him?
If you do this quickly, the other guards won’t locate you. When they surround the body, take them out too.
Cold ran through Ghost like a virus. He just wanted this to be over, one way or another.
So he inched forward until he was by the guard’s side. With his hand above the stun gun’s handle, he took a silent breath and remembered his friends in the favela, playing with guns, practicing drawing and shooting them. He’d never taken part. “The Ghost always disappears when the fun starts,” they used to tease. Now he wished he’d stuck around to play. He snatched the gun, springing back to avoid the slicing elbow of the guard, then pulled the trigger. A tiny dart whooshed through the air into the guard’s neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of the other two guards. Remembering what Miguel had said, he dropped the gun. For a split second, the shot guard was frozen, his face caught
in a bulging-eyed scowl, before collapsing to the ground.
His companions moved in to surround their fallen comrade. They searched for the source of the attack, their backs to Ghost. With no time to waste, he picked up the gun and pointed it into the back of one of the guards’ necks, firing and then immediately aiming at the remaining guard, who spun around to face him. Ghost shot the dart at his neck. Both guards flopped to the ground, and a flood of relief washed over Ghost.
His break was short-lived.
Well done. Now you need to move fast. Become visible and put on one of the guards’ uniforms.
Ghost didn’t have to be told twice. He closed his eyes and let go of the cold. As soon as he felt the flow of warmth enter his body, he began undressing one of the unconscious guards. The man was covered in weaponry: guns, grenades, and even a sword on his belt like a Kat has. Ghost thrust these to one side and pulled on the guard’s uniform and boots, his body appearing as he dressed.
In the glass case is the sword. Tie it to your belt.
Ghost stopped, his heart dropping like a stone. That’s the task? Stealing the Moon Sword? But why?
We don’t have time for questions. Are you going to let me down again?
Ghost swallowed as images of the fire flashed in his head.
But the Black Lotus are protecting it from falling into evil hands.
That’s what they tell you.
Was Miguel right? Ghost remembered the map room, the way he, Cormac, and Kate had felt the Black Lotus were keeping secrets. But still …
He didn’t know what to believe. His hands trembled as he lifted off the glass case and reached for the Moon Sword. If Makoto had spoken the truth, this katana was all that stood between President Goda and world domination. He hesitated, his pulse racing, his eyes running along the burnished black scabbard to the gold-and-silver crescent moon sparkling under the lights. Why am I doing this? The answer came quickly.
If you don’t do it, I’ll hurt you again.
He removed the sword in its scabbard and tied it to his belt.
Now take a gun and helmet and run.
Ghost obeyed, sliding the helmet’s dark visor over his eyes at the sound of footsteps fast approaching.
The Black Lotus Page 9
