“Remember what you have learned, Miss Emily. Focus. Aware.”
I tried to do as she said and focused on her sword, tuning everything else out.
“I don’t know anything about this, you know. I never took fencing in school, and I wasn’t exactly on the medieval knight team. What am I supposed to do?”
“Stay alive.” No sooner had the words escaped her lips and she took to the air again. She did a somersault then kicked me in the chest hard. I flew backward about ten feet and landed flat on my back. Madame Wong landed gently on the ground at my feet.
“That’s not fair. You can fly.”
“Miss Emily can fly too.”
“In case you didn’t notice, I don’t have wings.”
“Madame Wong has no wings.”
“Yeah but you’re not human.”
“Form of entity of no matter. Intention what matters. You want to fly, you fly. Focus on what you want Miss Emily, not on what you do not want. Focus on doing, not failing. Ready?”
I got up and took the stance. It was like a showdown in the old west. Both of us stared at each other but neither made a move. The silence grew to the point that I heard my blood rushing through my veins.
If I had been watching with my eyes, I would have seen nothing. If I had been listening with my ears, I would not have heard a sound. But in the focused awareness that Madame Wong had taught me, I felt her coming.
I thought of flying away to the other side of the room, and I pushed off with the toes of my front foot. I sprang into the air effortlessly. I spun myself head over heels several times then gently landed facing her. I think I saw Madame Wong’s lips curl into a small smile, a twinkle in her eye.
But there were no words of adulation or praise, only her little body coming at me, swinging her sword in tight figure eights as she gently glided forward across the grey tile floor. It was like watching a mini combine coming for me, the only sound was the swoosh of her sword like a wind turbine.
I took to the air once more, and as I turned mid-air to land facing her, I saw that she, too, had taken to the air and was right behind me. I reacted quickly enough to fend off a blow from her sword, and we were locked in battle, mid-air.
We came down with a thud as our weapons continued to clang against each other. I was working hard just to keep her from chopping my arm off. Madame Wong looked like she was hardly putting forth any effort at all. She stood entirely motionless except for her right arm, swinging the sword tightly as she thrust it toward me over and over again.
On the defensive, my arms quickly tired. I was so busy blocking her blows that I had no chance of mounting an attack. Then it happened.
Pain ripped through my arm as I felt the warmth of blood flowing in a torrent down my arm. My legs shook. I dropped my broad sword to the ground. It was like I was moving in slow motion as my head slowly turned to look at my left arm.
There was a gash so deep that I could see the bone peeking through. It was a wound so severe that it was a matter of seconds until I felt the lightheadedness that comes just before the world goes black.
As I slumped to the ground, my last thought was that I’d make a terrible warrior with only one arm.
33. SWORD OF THE ORDER
When I woke I was in Madame Wong’s cottage, resting on the bed. My arm had been dressed in a white linen dressing, wound tightly. I saw no blood on the bandage so I decided to unwrap it even though I was scared of what I’d see.
I slowly unwrapped the cloth. As the linen slipped off my arm, I saw no blood, no puss, and no oozing sore. There was only the faintest of scars where a three-inch gash had been.
“Miss Emily come, take tea and stew,” Madame Wong croaked.
I sat at her small table and drank the cup of warm tea in one swallow. I devoured the bowl of stew like I was starving. She said not a word as she refilled my tea and scooped more stew into my bowl.
“Madame Wong, I don’t understand. How can I heal so quickly and completely here?”
“It is a world of no time and pure intention. We can have things exactly as we want them.”
“Then why did you bandage me?”
“Because your mind expects a bandage. You feel you must do something to heal rather than think something to heal. I gave you what you expected.”
I let her words sink in as I devoured the rest of my stew and tea. Every time she gave me an ‘answer,’ more questions rose from it.
“Look, I see how that may work here, in a place of no time.”
“And a place of no place.”
“Yeah, whatever. But when I go back to my world – the world where I have to defeat Dughall – well it most certainly is a place and has time. So none of what I’m learning here will apply there, will it?”
“If it didn’t why would I teach it to you?”
“Well that’s what I’m saying. It’s like I’m wasting my time here.”
“No time so no waste. Besides, all Madame Wong teaches works in human world.”
“So I can defy gravity and fly through the air and have whatever I want? I don’t believe that.”
“Then you’re not ready to return. Miss Emily, laws of universe same everywhere. Big or small. Here or there. No matter. Only thing that matters – your intention.”
“Then why can’t humans fly or just think of something they want and poof, it’s there?”
“Because humans do not believe they can do those things. Because your world is a place of time. Because of time, your creations do not happen instantly. And that causes you not to believe, bringing you back always to the first thing.”
“So when I go back there, I can do all the things you’re teaching me here if … ”
“If you have belief and patience.”
I wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe I could sail through the air just by thinking it. Not in my own world. I didn’t believe I could conjure up a chair or any other object just because I wanted it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever believe those things were possible in my world, even if I stayed with Madame Wong a thousand years.
“You not believe. You not ready to go. But you are ready to fight, no?”
I simply sighed and instantly we were back in Madame Wong’s training room.
“Madame Wong teach about weapons. Miss Emily chose broadsword because it was shiny and pretty.”
“That’s not why.”
“Yes it is, and Miss Emily knows it. Not good reason. Warrior must play to her strength. Broadsword is weapon for a brute man, not a medium-sized girl.
“You need a weapon for finesse, cunning. Come.” She walked to the weapons rack. “Pick them up, swing them, listen to them. Choose the one that sings to you.”
Singing swords? I glared at her hard but didn’t argue as I picked up swords and lances and daggers and other objects of aggression. Most of them were too heavy for me or felt awkward to hold. Toward the end of the line, I saw a sword with a wood handle and a thin blade, much like Madame Wong’s. The handle looked well worn, its wood polished to a sheen by the sweat of the hands that had held it before me. The blade was only about an inch wide and could be no more than an eighth of an inch thick. The handle was about a foot long, maybe eighteen inches and the blade about two feet. The blade was not corroded but not shiny either and covered in what looked like Celtic knots.
When I picked it up, I felt a tingly feeling run up my hand and into my arm. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end like it had when I entered the Sacred Grove. I swung the sword wide, and I swear I heard a single musical note hang in the air. The handle felt like it had always been in my hand. It felt effortless to swing it in a wide arc.
“That blade sing to you Miss Emily?”
“Yes,” I answered in a whispered voice. “Madame Wong, this sword. Who owned it?”
“That sword have no owner but was used by last High Priestess of the Order of Brighid.”
“Saorla.”
“Yes, and many priestesses before her. Like the torc on your arm,
it was crafted by the Fair Sidhe for the Order of Brighid.”
I practiced swinging, thrusting and flying with the beautiful sword in my hand. It felt like an extension of my arm, like it was a part of me.
“Miss Emily ready for next combat lesson?”
“Yes.” I continued to practice my moves.
“For a true warrior, life is sacred. A warrior with honor never kills unless she must. But when she must kill, a warrior is prepared to take the life of another – or to die – if honor requires it. Are you prepared to take the life of another? Could you kill Dughall if necessary?”
I hadn’t thought of that. Up to that point my mission had been a bit abstract. Kill someone? The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.
It’s not like I’m against a person killing another to save their own life or the life of someone they love, but I never thought I’d be the one doing the killing. Doubt crept through my blood like a cold, dark shadow.
“I don’t know Madame Wong. Honestly, I’m not sure I can kill someone, even someone as bad as Dughall.”
“Even if it were necessary to save the ones you love?”
A scream pierced the air, breaking the icy silence that defined the Netherworld. A high-pitched scream that was familiar but also seemed like it was from a long-forgotten dream.
Fanny.
34. THE THREE LITTLE NINJAS
I ran from the training room and out into the mist and fog. Another scream and a shout.
“Help! Emily, we’re here.”
Jake. I ran toward the voices as fast as my legs would take me. I felt like I was in a dream, running and running but going nowhere. After a while it occurred to me to stop running and instead think about being where they were.
Out of the mist and fog another building came into view. It was a small cottage, much like Madame Wong’s only slightly larger. I stormed through the door, the Sword of the Order still in my hand.
Inside it was dark like night, the only light coming from the grey haze of the Netherworld through the small window openings covered with carved wooden screens. In a corner of the large open room I had stepped into were Jake and Fanny, their hands bound behind them. They were lashed together with a thick rope, and their feet too were bound tightly.
“Emily, look out!” screamed Jake.
It was a good thing he warned me. I had been thrown off my guard, and was not focused and aware like Madame Wong had taught me. With Jake’s warning, I sprung to the air and did a back flip so that I could see my attacker.
Correction. Attackers. There were three small men, dressed in black from head to toe, all brandishing large, curved broadswords like the ones Madame Wong had said were for brutes. The three little ninjas. They turned to face me as I gently landed on the wooden floor. I planted my feet, right foot in front, left behind. I held my sword horizontally in front of me, my left hand up and vertical in front of my face. Focus. Breathe.
They all lunged for me at once, charging like bulls, their swords swinging wildly as they screamed their warrior cries. I felt the blade coming before I could see or hear it, like the movement of the swinging disrupted the molecules in the air around me. I thought only of my blade connecting with theirs, and my arm swung powerfully in a large arc. There was the loud crash of steel as the Sword of the Order swung true and hit the first blade.
The man wielding it looked down in shock as he saw that my sword had cut clean through his thick broadsword. But he was a trained fighter, not a novice. It took him a matter of seconds to recover and grab another sword that he had strapped to his back.
In the meantime, my arm swung like it was a machine, connecting time after time with the blows coming from the three men. I lifted myself gracefully into the air and came down behind them. As one of the ninjas came at me, I thrust forward and dashed to the side so quickly that I cut his arm clean off. He screamed in agony but then vanished from the scene entirely. His cries of pain lingered even after his body was gone.
There was no time to think about it. The other two didn’t miss a beat as they both came at me at once. I swung left and right, parried and turned. I took to the air, but they followed right behind, our blades connecting the whole time. Sparks flew, ignited by the steel grinding on steel.
As we touched the ground, one ninja to the left of me, the other on the right, I swung my arm in a tight figure eight like I’d seen Madame Wong do. I fended off the attempts of each of the ninjas to do me in. I sensed the one on my left was ready to thrust hard. I pitched myself straight up like I was shot from a cannon.
I looked down, and the one ninja’s thrust landed straight in the heart of the other as the second ninja’s sword, which has already been in the motion of a wide arc intended for me, swung clear through the torso of the first ninja. Both vanished even as the sound of their anguished cries lingered.
Then there was silence. My chest still heaved from the exhaustion of the battle with the three ninjas. But there was no time to waste. I had to get Jake and Fanny out of their bindings.
“That was amazing,” Fanny said. I looked at Jake who said nothing, but his clear blue eyes showed their appreciation and awe.
“I didn’t know you could fight like that,” he finally said.
“I didn’t know either.” I cut the ropes around his wrists with my sword. When his hands were free, Jake caught my hand with his. He looked in my eyes with a look I’d never seen before. His hand was warm and as he held my hand in his I felt a slight tingle run up my spine. Time was frozen for a moment as I let Jake keep his hand there, the first true warmth I’d felt in so, so long.
But the moment was cut short by the sound of a large, low voice.
“You’re not finished here, Youngling,” he said. Instantly Jake’s hands were once again bound together.
I turned and there before me was a large man, standing at least six feet three. His upper body was bare, his barrel chest smooth and rippled with muscle. His biceps were two of the most powerful guns I’d ever seen, his stomach a washboard. His dark hair was tied behind him in a smooth tail, his chin covered in a well-groomed goatee. His black eyes glared at me as he stood with his legs spread wide, his sword in his hand.
I hadn’t finished getting Jake and Fanny out of their bindings, but that would have to wait. It occurred to me at that moment that I was going to have to keep fighting until I finished what I came here for.
I had to keep fighting until I killed.
35. THE KILLING TIME
The supersized ninja stood firmly, a devilish smirk smeared across his face.
“They’ll be tied up here forever you know. If you want to save them, you’ve got to go through me. And from the looks of you, still a whelp sucking at your momma’s breast, you’ll give up. I’ll take immense pleasure in killing them just because I can.”
I didn’t wait to take my stance or focus myself. His words had their desired effect. I was enraged and shot through the air straight at him.
“My … mother … is … dead … you tart monkey.” I hurled the words at him as our swords clashed. My arms were already tired from fighting the three amigos, but I had to keep going. I wasn’t sure if Jake and Fanny were real or an ephemeral figment of Madame Wong’s imagination. But either way, I couldn’t stand by and allow the guy murder them. Somehow I got my arm to swing the sword, more defensive than offensive. It was all I could do to keep supersize from cutting me in half. I was so unbalanced by his strength that I didn’t have a chance to land any blows against him.
I took to the air and bounced from wall to wall, trying to give my arm a rest while I avoided his attack. Everywhere I landed, he was there. It was like he anticipated my every move.
Then I ran across the walls. I know it sounds impossible, but I was like an insect defying gravity using the walls of that cottage like a floor. I wondered to myself what would happen if I ran really fast and I thought only of making myself move so fast I was a blur to him. After a few seconds, I took a chance and looked at supersize. He had dropped to
the center of the room, standing on the floor, looking at me. Or trying to look at me and find out where I was exactly. Somehow I was moving so fast I was a blur to him, winking in and out of the room altogether.
I didn’t have a plan and wasn’t sure why I felt the need to run. But I had unhinged him a bit so I guess that was as valid a reason as any.
“Get down here and fight like a man,” he grumped at me.
“Ah, but I’m not a man. I want to fight like a woman.” I swooped down from the wall and struck him with my sword across his back. I quickly flew back up to my wall and continued to run in circles around the room.
Supersize only grimaced and shrugged off the large gash across his back. Blood dripped from the slash across his naked back.
“If this is what you call fighting like a woman, then women are cowards.” He ran up the wall and planted himself firmly like a fly on the wall, hoping I guess to stop me in my tracks. When I saw him there, I simply reversed direction so that I again came at him from the back. My second blow was a sword thrust to his back.
“Smart, not cowardly,” I said.
I had hoped that my strategy would do him in for good. Problem with my plan was that the Sword of the Order got stuck in his large, thick torso. I tried to thrust and pull but as I pulled, the sword stayed. I fell backwards and dropped to the ground with a thud.
Supersize stood for a minute, his feet defying gravity, stuck to the wall like a fly on flypaper. Then he gently swooped down to the ground and faced me, his face taut with rage. He reached his left hand behind him and pulled the Sword of the Order out of his back. His face showed only the slightest twinge of pain as he pulled the sword out. Blood gushed from the deep puncture wound, but I noticed that the other wound I’d inflicted only minutes ago was almost healed. I guess I’m not the only one for whom the Netherworld provides protection from injury.
“Beautiful weapon,” he said. He held the Sword of the Order in his left hand and inspected it while he held his own large broadsword in his right. “I will enjoy killing you with it.” He swung both weapons in small arcs in front of him.
The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series Page 16
