The Black Lotus

by Kieran Fanning

  Cormac slipped into the stream of people racing toward the animals. He made eye contact with Kate as she charged past on her elephant. He could have sworn he saw her wink.

  Kate raised the hockey stick above her head and screamed encouragement to the horde of animals behind her. From her vantage point, she saw Goda’s samurai give chase as the Black Lotus shinobi and New Yorkers fled to safety behind her. When they saw the approaching beasts, however, the samurai ground to a sudden halt, frozen in stunned disbelief.

  The cats attacked first. Led by Zula, the lioness, tigers, panthers, and cheetahs broke free from the pack and pounced on the samurai soldiers. The men’s armor did little to protect them from the daggerlike teeth and claws.

  The next row of samurai formed a defensive wall of swords and spears. Kate called two rhinos, who charged through the barricade, scattering the warriors like bowling pins. They were followed by a silverback gorilla, who entered the fray and flung samurai about like rag dolls, throwing them through shop windows and into walls. The birds attacked next, swooping down with razor-sharp talons. Eagles, hawks, falcons, and vultures clung to the faces of their enemy, stabbing at their eyes with pointed beaks. A pack of wolves scrambled over the hood of a taxi. Goda’s army retreated, but the wolves hunted them down.

  Kate saw the samurai on the white horse—Goda. He wheeled his steed around and galloped back toward Times Square.

  “Follow the horse!” ordered Kate.

  Goliath, the elephant, took off through the street of warring humans and animals. As they passed a side street, Kate saw what she hoped was the arrival of her second wave of attack. The ground seemed to ripple and move, as if a black magic carpet was racing toward her. It was only as they got closer that this apparent mirage materialized into thousands of small creatures: mice, rats, dogs, and cats. New York’s finest pets, strays, and sewer dwellers had answered her call and were united in defense of their city. They swarmed into the fight, running up armored bodies to faces where flesh was exposed. Their sheer numbers were enough to terrify the enemy.

  Kate’s elephant charged through the samurai army unchallenged. Most jumped aside to allow them through and stared wide-eyed as if they’d never seen such a sight. As she reached the end of Goda’s army lines, her heart burst with joy at the sight of a US Army battalion approaching to trap the samurai warriors in a pincer movement. Their tanks and helmets were obsolete, but their crooked rifles and bent machine guns had been reinvented as bats and clubs.

  Kate wanted to turn around and join them as they closed in on the medieval army, but she continued toward Times Square. She couldn’t let Goda escape.

  On her journey to and from the Bronx Zoo, she’d seen the damage to New York City. But she was shocked to see Times Square, normally so bright and shiny, now completely obliterated, the ground paved with the dead and injured.

  In the center, Goda dismounted, drew his sword, and swung it, creating an arc of white light in the air. He put his head into the light, immediately removed it, and swung his blade again, opening another portal.

  “Faster!” said Kate to Goliath. “We can’t let him get away.”

  Goda checked the new portal before disappearing inside.

  “Let me down,” said Kate.

  Goliath stopped running and knelt. Kate slid off his back and, armed with her hockey stick, ran forward. But it was too late—the portal had closed.

  * * *

  KATE STOOD FOR A MOMENT, the sour taste of defeat in her mouth. But then human cries and animal roars filled Times Square as the remnants of Goda’s army arrived, fleeing from the animals of the Bronx Zoo. The samurai huddled in the center of the area as a hundred species of animals closed in on them. A circle of foaming mouths, raised hackles, and bared canines tightened around the medieval warriors.

  “Call off the animals,” Kate ordered Goliath.

  The elephant raised his trunk and trumpeted into the air—a high-pitched penetrating call that echoed off the crumbling skyscrapers. The ring of animals froze, growls died down, and birds alighted on flattened vehicles. Times Square was silent by the time the US soldiers and shōzoku-clad shinobi arrived with what was left of the ragtag army of New Yorkers.

  Kate wondered where the shinobi had come from, but in a place full of zoo animals and medieval samurai, anything was possible. They marched up to the ring of animals, and one of them stepped through and called out something in Japanese. Kate picked up the word “weapons.”

  Without hesitation, Goda’s army laid down their spears and swords.

  Cormac and Ghost came running toward Kate.

  “You sure know how to make an entrance,” said Cormac.

  She tossed her hair. “It’s a New York thing.” Ghost laughed and she hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  She kissed Cormac on the cheek, turning his face bright red. “You did it.” The joy of victory was instantly extinguished by roaring sounds from above. She looked up to see helicopters and jets approaching. Her heart clenched with fear. The Empire! Shadows fell across the ruined city as they approached.

  As they flew closer, Kate bit back a shout of frustration. Would everything they’d fought for be lost so quickly? But as the aircraft passed overhead, she broke into a broad smile. Stars and stripes. It was the US Army! They were safe. The city was safe.

  While the New Yorkers were busy tying up the samurai army, a troop of shinobi approached, led by Makoto. Kate wondered how he’d gotten here.

  He smiled at her. “Good work, Kate.”

  She bowed.

  Makoto then turned to Cormac and pointed at the sword he was still holding. “I think I’d better take that off your hands.”

  “Please do,” replied Cormac, giving him the blade. It sparkled in the early-morning sunshine and Kate recognized the moon-and-flames engraving near the hilt. The Moon Sword.

  “Kiko still has the scabbard,” said Ghost. “But I guess that doesn’t matter.”

  Makoto shook his head. He seemed relieved, but worry still lingered in his eye. “What about the other two Swords of Sarumara?”

  “Goda escaped with them through a portal,” said Kate, pointing at where he’d disappeared.

  “He’s gone back to medieval Japan,” said Ghost. “We should go after him.”

  “Not now,” said Makoto. “Enough blood has been spilled.”

  He turned to the Bear and said, “Have the army place round-the-clock guards here in case he returns. We need to get the Moon Sword to safety.”

  “Back to Renkondo?” asked Ghost.

  “It’s gone, but we have a backup safe house.”

  “Renkondo is gone?” gasped Kate. “What about … Oh, God, Chloe!”

  “Chloe is fine,” said Makoto, “as are most of the students.”

  “And what about us?” asked Cormac. “What do we do?”

  “Lie low for a while. We can’t take you with us just yet, but I’m not worried—you can clearly fend for yourselves.” He smiled and pulled a wad of dollars from his pocket. “There’ll be no hotels or restaurants open in Midtown, but this should help you find somewhere nearby. The place will be swarming with cops and soldiers for some time, but when things die down, we’ll be in touch.”

  “How will you find us?” asked Cormac.

  Makoto smiled. “We’ll find you.”

  A noise woke Kate. She opened her eyes in panic but relaxed when she saw the heavy drapes at the hotel window. That was the best night’s sleep of my life! She lay back on the soft pillow and thought back to the events of the day before.

  After leading the animals back to the zoo, Kate, Cormac, and Ghost spent the entire day patching up the animals’ cages and homes. It was only when the zookeepers arrived in the evening that they felt it was OK to leave, by which time the police and army were restoring law and order to the city, helping the injured and clearing the streets.

  The three kids found an abandoned department store and changed out of their shōzoku and into brand-new clothes. K
ate insisted that they leave some cash at the register.

  “I agree,” said Ghost. “My stealing days are over!”

  Then they crept into a vacant hotel, afraid of being arrested for breaking the curfew.

  Kate’s thoughts were brought sharply back to the present by a knock on her door, followed by Cormac’s voice. “Room service!”

  She hopped out of bed, pulled on a fluffy bathrobe, and crawled back under the duvet.

  “Come in!” she called.

  Cormac entered wearing a chef’s hat and carrying a large tray. Ghost, in a red-and-gold bellboy’s hat, carried another.

  Kate laughed out loud, but stopped as soon as she saw what was on the trays: plates piled high with fruit, bread, and pastries, and tall glasses of orange juice.

  Savage joined them on the bed and they devoured it all, not speaking until their bellies were full.

  Kate wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You’d think I hadn’t eaten in years.”

  “Well, I think the last thing I ate was that tangerine,” said Cormac. “So technically, that was five hundred years ago.”

  Kate smiled. Again, she heard the same noise that had woken her, and she glanced toward the window.

  Cormac peeped through the curtains.

  “What is it?” asked Ghost.

  “Army, and what looks like a construction crew.”

  Kate moved the tray off her lap. “We’d better get out of here.”

  “But where will we go?” asked Ghost.

  Cormac pulled the wad of dollars from his jeans. “We have money but nowhere to spend it.”

  Kate got out of bed. While attending to the animals the previous day, she’d had a lot of time to think. “My house is empty.”

  “But you said you were homeless?” said Cormac.

  Kate gathered up her clothes and sneakers and headed for the bathroom to get dressed. “I was, but I think it’s time to go home.”

  IT WAS ALMOST DARK BY the time they reached Elmsford.

  “I’m cat tired,” moaned Ghost.

  “We’re almost there,” said Kate. “Just around this corner.”

  They stopped in front of a tall wooden house. Kate was relieved to see it still standing. On the seven-hour walk here, they’d witnessed the colossal damage caused by Goda’s electromagnetic pulse. The worst-affected buildings were the more modern high-rise towers constructed with a steel framework. The older stone buildings, and wooden houses like the ones in this neighborhood, remained relatively unscathed.

  “I don’t have a key,” said Kate.

  Cormac pointed at the front door, which hung lopsided on one hinge. “I don’t think you’ll need one.”

  She was overcome with emotion as she climbed the steps to the front door. It had been almost a year since she’d been in this house. She wasn’t the same girl anymore. And the house wouldn’t be the same without her parents and Jamie. Her mind flooded with memories of the last time she’d seen them, at the airport as they departed for war-torn Norway as aid workers. Then the news that they’d been thrown into an Empire prison. Then the social workers taking her and Jamie away. Then her escape from the orphanage to live on the streets …

  Her hand shook as she pulled open the creaking door. She’d opened it only a crack when she spotted a candle burning inside.

  She scrambled back down the steps, her heart pounding.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Cormac, alarmed.

  “Somebody’s in there.”

  “Squatters,” he replied, picking up a length of wood as a weapon.

  Kate slipped behind Cormac and watched as a figure appeared from inside the house. A man pushed open the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Her racing heart froze. Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Dad!” she shouted, and raced up the steps.

  Her dad opened his arms in time for Kate’s embrace. She held him close, breathing in his smell and warmth. Her mind spun, she could barely think. She’d never felt so happy.

  “Baby,” he muttered, stroking her hair.

  “Who is it?” said a voice behind him. Mom!

  Kate disentangled herself from her dad’s arms and watched her mother’s mouth drop open as she recognized her daughter. She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

  Kate felt tears roll down her cheeks.

  Her mom rushed out, arms stretched wide. She wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace and Kate sobbed loudly into her mother’s shoulder, releasing almost a year’s worth of loneliness. Small hurried footsteps arrived on the porch.

  Kate looked down. “Jamie!”

  “Kate!” shouted her little brother.

  She lifted him up and hugged him tightly.

  “They released you?” asked Kate, turning to her dad.

  “Not exactly … We had some help to escape.”

  “Welcome home, Kate,” said her mom, kissing her wet face.

  Kate put Jamie down on the porch and he ran back into the house. Her mother took Kate’s face in her hands and looked her in the eye. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. We’d always intended for you to join us in Norway, but when the resistance failed … ” She wiped her cheeks. “I feel like we abandoned you.”

  Kate hugged her again. “You didn’t abandon us. You were fighting for freedom. Now I am too.”

  Her mom held her at arm’s length. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Kate, looking down at the two boys at the bottom of the porch steps. “These are my two best friends, Cormac and Ghost. Is it OK if they stay?”

  “Absolutely,” said her dad, coming forward to greet the boys with an extended hand. “Any friend of Kate’s is a friend of ours.”

  “And Savage too?” She pulled out the mouse, who sat on her palm and looked up at them all. Kate glanced at her parents. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  “No kidding!” Her mom laughed.

  “So, boys, how long will you be staying?” asked her dad, putting his arm around Kate’s shoulders as they all went into the house.

  Cormac looked at Ghost, and then Kate. “We’re not sure,” he said, smiling. “We’re waiting on a call.”

  AKERO!—Open the door!

  ARIGATŌ—Thank you.

  BŌ—a long Japanese fighting staff

  BUSHIDŌ—the samurai way of life; it literally means “the way of the warrior”

  DŌJŌ—a training place for Japanese martial arts; it literally means “place of the way”

  FUYU—an elite Black Lotus ninja guard; it literally means “winter”

  GENPUKU—a historical Japanese coming-of-age ceremony

  HININ—society outcasts; literally means “nonhuman”

  HININ HOUSES—workhouses in the Samurai Empire for society outcasts such as the homeless, disabled, addicts, and orphans.

  JIKININKI—human-eating ghosts

  JŌNIN—the leader of a ninja clan

  KATANA—Japanese sword used by the samurai

  KEIBIIN—security guard

  KI—a spiritual energy/force within the human body

  KIMONO—traditional Japanese full-length robe

  KITTENS—nickname for Kyatapira Youth

  KONNICHIWA—hello

  KYATAPIRA—military police of the Samurai Empire

  KYATAPIRA YOUTH—military police trainees

  NINJUTSU—martial art practiced by ninjas

  NIWA—the forest and mountainside surrounding the Black Lotus headquarters; literally means “garden”

  RENKONDO—the underground headquarters of the Black Lotus

  RI—a unit of measurement in medieval Japan equivalent in use to a mile or kilometer

  SAMURAI—knights of medieval Japan

  SAYŌNARA—good-bye

  SEIZA—Japanese term for the traditional formal way of sitting; literally means “proper sitting”

  SENSEI—teacher; literally means “person born before another”

  SEPPUKU—samurai ritual suicide

  SHINOBI—ninja
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  SHINOBI SHŌZOKU—outfit worn by ninjas

  SHINSHOKU—priest in the Shintō religion of Japan

  SHŌGUN—military governor of medieval Japan

  SHŌJI—traditional Japanese sliding door or room divider

  SHUKO AND ASHIKO—ninja hand and feet claws used for climbing and fighting

  SHURIKEN—ninja throwing stars used as weapons; literally means “sword hidden in user’s hand”

  TENGU—legendary Japanese demon

  TETSUBISHI—a ninja weapon made of sharp iron spikes designed to injure the foot when stepped upon

  ZANSHIN—a state of total awareness

  BEFORE I SET OUT on this extraordinary journey seven years ago, I thought novel writing was a solitary endeavor. And for the most part, it is. But like every great journey, it is punctuated by people who help the traveler on his way.

  I credit my parents, Mary and Jim, for starting the whole thing—indulging an awkward child and providing a childhood that is still my main source of inspiration.

  A massive thank-you to all the critters from CC, especially Suja, Eamon Ó Cléirigh (Cheeno), Blandcorp, and Chelly Wood. You taught me so many things and were with me every step of the way. There are little pieces of each of you in my book.

  To Kathryn, a brilliant writer, and my number one crit buddy. Your advice and support played a huge part in getting this novel published, and for that I will always be grateful. There is a large part of you in this book.

  Thank you to all the members (past and present) of the Scribblers Writing Group. You guys rock!

  Conor Kostick’s writing course was also really helpful. I recommend it to all aspiring authors.

  To all the writers, teachers, lecturers, editors, publishers, and agents I encountered over the years—thank you for inspiring me.

  To my wonderful agent, Sallyanne Sweeney, thank you for your dedication, professionalism, and enthusiasm. But most of all, thank you for believing in me, and being in my corner.

  A huge debt of gratitude is owed to Barry Cunningham of Chicken House, who spotted the potential in my wart-infested manuscript. Thank you for giving me and so many other debut authors a chance.