by Ino Lee
Panyin started coughing, too.
“You drank Wong’s antidote, right?” Kai said.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Get to the windows,” Riyon said. “Just in case.”
They pressed their faces against the bars until the gas subsided and the room returned to a safe state.
Hojin examined the unconscious guards. “That worked nicely.”
“Search them,” Riyon said.
Panyin found a bag of rope, undoubtedly meant to be used on them, but instead they used it to tie up the guards, beginning with Donghai. Kai then touched the fallen guard’s head and concentrated, using his monk skills to pull images from his mind.
Riyon lay his beard across the table. The sticky glue used to attach the hairs to his face stuck hard, and he wondered if he would ever be able to get it off completely. Once removed, he sifted through the mass of hair and uncovered a folded three-section staff and pair of butterfly knives. He handed Hojin the knives.
“How’s it coming?” he said to Kai.
Kai was still fixed in a trance, his eyes aglow. He didn’t answer. The elder moved on to help the others secure the guards and strip them of weapons. Panyin armed himself with a sword and two knives, leaving an extra knife to Riyon. Ting retrieved Mooji, removed the spent havoc ball within, and wedged the doll under her belt.
Kai returned to them. “Shadow’s alive.”
“You saw her?” Hojin said.
“Do you know where she is?” Riyon added.
“Yeah. Sorry it took so long. I didn’t even have to go that far back. She’s just down the hall.”
“Nonsense. Most monks can’t even read memories. Excellent work.”
Panyin looked stupefied. “You have to teach me how to do that some day.”
“It helps when they’re unconscious,” Kai said.
Riyon tossed over his walking cane. Kai caught it firmly and channeled energy inside so that its nubby wooden tip glowed like an ember from within. He twirled the weapon and smacked it against the floor, shattering the fat end and uncovering the gemstone of his disguised monk staff.
“Ready.”
Riyon folded his weapon in hand and peered out the door.
“Okay, Kai, lead the way.”
35
WONG STALKED THE side streets and watched anxiously as Riyon, hunched over and jittery, shook his cane at a security guard’s face. He looked silly doing so, but if the Poisoned Blood truly masqueraded as Biyan security, it was a dangerous game he played. These were not the sort of men whose temperaments should be tested, no matter how old and feeble he appeared.
A tense moment passed before they started walking off together in the direction of Biyan headquarters. Wong breathed a sigh of relief, though the feeling was soon replaced by nervous fear at the thought of all the horrors that awaited them. He rushed around the corner, navigating the alleyways to reach his entry point on the backside of the building.
The desired window was on the fourth floor, two stories above the nearest buildings, and blocked by closed storm shutters. He stood in a narrow corridor across the street, perpendicular to the security building’s facade, and calculated the best path to entry. The jump would not be easy. He wondered if he should have brought Houzon for the extra agility, having left it behind in favor of his other masks and weapons; Shenren’s raw power was more important outside of the forest and inside closed quarters, Kunchu’s senses were necessary for evasion and tracking, and not having to worry about carrying an extra mask while having more weaponry seemed worthwhile. He decided he was overthinking it, in the end—the Blade Ninja had made more difficult entries in the past without magau ability, and he should be able to make it still.
He scaled the side of the alleyway building and made his way to the corner of the roof, where a flared overhang jutted out over the narrow corridor. Part of the roofline’s beam was exposed and made it easy for him to attach a rope. He then retreated out of sight in case anyone from across the street was watching.
He steadied his heart rate. Just a little longer. The others needed time to assess the situation and find Shadow before he barged in and potentially put the entire building on alert, but not too much time that he wouldn’t be able to help if things went sour.
A final weapons check was made. He touched the handle of a ninja sword by his right shoulder, training his muscle memory to unsheathe it instantaneously, then repeated with an identical sword positioned by his lower left back. The tactical blades were slightly shorter than normal swords, with uneven profiles that were weighted more heavily at the ends for dramatic flare. Above his right collar, he touched the handle of a throwing knife that was spring-loaded in a cartridge sheath with more ammunition within, and above his left collar jutted his fire stick. On his belt, he ran his fingers across multiple satchels of powder, feathered darts, and grapnels with Yaje silk ropes that ran into his pockets. Numerous folded shuriken lined his sleeves, with bolts and other throwing weapons easily accessible along his legs. Slightly more out of reach on his back hung a chain of havoc balls. Finally, he clutched the metal gauntlet on his left hand, flaring out the blades of his arm shield and retracting them to test the mechanics. Perhaps he carried one too many weapons, but then again, he was the Weapons Master.
It was time. He put on Shenren, took a couple of deep breaths, and then darted from cover, jumping off the roof while holding onto the line tied to the beam. He swung rapidly and kicked out his legs to gain momentum, rising above the roofline and spinning three hundred and sixty degrees to gain even more speed. Another spin adjusted him further, and on the third swing he let go, catapulting into the air across the street.
His trajectory was off to the right, but perfectly pitched. He threw a shuriken knife with rope into the right storm shutter, then repeated with another on the left before yanking with both arms, ripping the doors open and realigning his momentum toward the windowsill.
Sunlight flooded the room and surprised a group of dark ninjas. They shaded their eyes as a specter landed quietly on the window—a ninja with the startling red face of the unan’s fire god. It reached toward its shoulder and lower back, simultaneously unsheathing a pair of swords in a circular motion, long and drawn out, mesmerizing them so it seemed they did not register the danger until it was too late.
Wong leapt from the window and tore across the room, targeting the first of five ninjas. He struck without resistance, the victim caught off-guard and unable to defend, then moved on to face another, smacking aside its weapon with his right sword and thrusting into its gut with his left. A third opponent charged, causing him to pivot again and launch his right sword into its chest. The remaining ninjas turned and ran for the door. Wong recoiled after launching his sword by sweeping up with his left arm, flaring the blades on his arm shield and letting it fly into the back of a retreating ninja. No motion could be wasted. Every second that passed was an opportunity for the ninjas to call for help, and he could not risk the life of his friends. He lifted a bolt from his leg at the same time that he swung his shield, then threw at the final ninja. It tumbled to the ground and started to shriek, but a poison dart was already airborne, piercing its throat before a cry of warning could sound.
The entire battle took seconds. Wong paused to make sure the ninjas were dead and no others came to investigate, taking the moment to appreciate the speed with which he had dispatched the Koon Gee, his attack already planned out in the time it took to unsheathe his swords.
He studied his surroundings and determined that he was in a meditation chamber, which was a common facility for the Blood Ninjas; despite their viciousness, they were disciplined and practiced meditation almost as much as Shaolin warriors. He studied a fallen ninja’s face to make sure it was not human—the pale white skin and red eyes verifying its demonic nature—then noted a Kendo mask on a nearby table. This dark ninja was most likely one of the Tonkai, the
first ninja struck down and blinded by the sunlight to his good fortune. The elite ninja had probably taken off its mask to meditate, possibly leading the others in a chi exercise. It then occurred to him how similar they were to Blood Ninjas.
He collected his thrown sword and shield, cleaned and restocked them, then stepped over to the sliding door and peered out. Several dark ninjas walked the hallways. Where were the Poisoned Blood? They must have left the upper floors to the Koon Gee while remaining below. After the ninjas passed, he stepped out to gain his bearings, finding an ornate setting with decorated walls and wooden hallways. More meditation rooms appeared adjacent to his. Two had their doors open, with another that was shut, making him wonder if additional ninjas meditated within. He removed Shenren and replaced it with Kunchu, then concentrated with the extra sensory perceptions of his bug mask to smell bodies within. His suspicions were confirmed. He could try to sneak in and kill them, but decided to move on to find Kai and the others.
The sliding door squeaked as he closed it, and he worried more ninjas would come meditate soon after to discover his slaughter. There were other rooms available, and he hoped shutting the door alone would be enough to dissuade them from entering, but a better idea crossed his mind. He went back in to retrieve his dart from the fallen ninja’s neck, then closed the door again, stabbing the dart in its track and snapping off the needle. That would make it difficult for the door to slide open again and keep his secret safe a little while longer.
The hallways were empty. Which way would Kai and company be? He guessed he should go lower and toward the center of the building where he could better hear them calling for help, so he stepped quietly in the anticipated direction, careful to remain undetected. Footsteps soon chased him into an adjacent hallway, Kunchu’s hearing alerting him well in advance. He passed by numerous rooms and was tempted to search for possible Poisoned Blood secrets inside, but moved on, hoping to come across a staircase.
He soon found something nearly as good—a sky well running vertically through the building and disseminating outdoor light to every floor. He peered over the ledge and heard a smattering of random activity and movement. The smell of humans seemed stronger, raising the possibility of Blood Ninjas. Dropping to a lower level blindly could be dangerous, so he would have to look first. He sheathed his sword and removed a grapnel from his belt, then hopped over to the other side of the railing, hooking on before leaning over. He slowly fed himself more line so that his body angled downward. He popped his head into view and quickly glanced around.
Voices approached and he recognized a distinct tone, one of a devilish unan that had caused Shaolin great pain over the years. Wong readjusted his stance for a better look, wrapping the cable around his Iron Fist and hooking a foot over the ledge so that he was nearly upside down. He clung close to the side of the wall like a spider stalking prey, his insect mask on.
Raikahn soon came into view, flanked by a tonkaija with a metal visor, and a human who was most likely a Blood Ninja. Wong had seen the tonkaija before, somewhere in Tanjin. This was no ordinary gathering of enemies. The diverse trio was undoubtedly at the forefront of leadership in Hanai.
He reached beside his neck for a throwing knife, and thought to target Raikahn since a shot to the mask would be the most effective and difficult to achieve under normal circumstances. Ridding the world of the demon was valuable, but was the cost of alerting the Koon Gee too high? He felt confident about taking out any one of the three fighters, perhaps even two, but if Raikahn dodged his shot, would he be able to silence all three? The visored ninja was worrisome since a member of the Tonkai was enough to give anyone pause, and he had no idea what to expect from the Blood Ninja since there was a chance his chi could be ascended. Perhaps he would have been bolder, had he been wearing Shenren, but the bug’s blurred vision and more docile nature kept him even.
Raikahn’s face shifted in his direction.
He pulled up.
“What is it?” Taesuk asked.
Raikahn stared at the sky well a little longer. “Nothing. Continue.”
“We will extract information to make sure our location is safe, but it seems the threat is controlled.”
“Excellent. I’m sure Lafay would gladly help if you have any trouble. He is quite effective at extracting information, and especially good with children.”
They laughed and passed into another hallway. Wong wanted to drop down to pursue, but more ninjas approached from the same hallway in the opposite direction, where it would be much easier to see him.
He climbed up again and out of their sight lines when the door to a room on his level started to slide open. With little room to hide and maneuver, he hopped up on the railing and threw his grappling to the floor above, jumping and quickly pulling up. He stuck his head above the gap on the next floor and saw more ninjas, leaving him precariously hanging in the sky well between floors.
Nervous moments passed. The ninjas above him walked closer, while the ninjas below grew into a crowd that loitered in the hallway, freezing him in place. He quietly cursed as the crowd refused to move and the ninjas above walked dangerously close to where he had hooked onto the railing. If he was seen, it would be disastrous and the only fallback plan he could think of was to chase after the trio, take out Raikahn and the tonkaija, and force the Blood Ninja to tell him where his friends were. That is, if he could get past all the Koon Gee that poured into the hallways after being put on alert. He sighed. Certainly his entire arsenal would have to be put into play.
After waiting a little longer, the danger miraculously passed; the ninjas above passed by without notice and the ninjas dispersed below.
He acted quickly and dropped a level, hearing noises from every direction. It was too dangerous to move around this part of the building for long. He waited for the earliest opportunity to drop down again to the floor where he had seen the trio.
Echoes of voices, the creak of wood, and the scent of bodies flooded his senses, though he could not discern if any belonged to his friends. There was even more activity on this floor than the last. The endless sensations were overwhelming compared to what he felt in the Koon Kagi forests, though not all of it was unpleasant; there was something appealing about the mass concentration of life, something innate to an insect mind that would nest and thrive in such an environment. The thought creeped him out. His human self knew better and the activity only meant that the circumstances were that much more dire.
He moved down a corridor when a rumble of dissonance echoed from a distant corner of the building. Voices spread as if a giant wave had crashed into the building, flooding the hallways and rounding the corners, filling its nooks and crannies as its waters spread from floor to floor. The sounds were almost nauseating as he tried to decipher what was happening, when a clear high-pitched sound resonated through the chaos and blotted his peripheral vision with splashes of red, a by-product of his jumbled sensory perceptions. He believed something significant was occurring: Ting was whistling.
He wanted to run, but something closer had come to his attention—a tonkaija standing silently in the hallway, slats over its eyes with contoured metal forming its mouth, and a heavy-bladed naginata in hand. Scabbards on its back housed additional swords and a belt held numerous knives, making the ninja nearly as armed as he was. It must have snuck up on him with all the noise. Wong removed his mask, the bug’s vision and senses unsuitable for hand-to-hand combat.
“You must be pretty tough,” Wong said.
The ninja stirred. Sound reverberated through holes in its metal mask near its mouth. “Why do you speak to me?”
“Standing casually there, custom naginata, all those swords.” Wong’s eyes bulged. “You’re kind of like me.”
“Shut up.”
“I like your mask.” He unsheathed a sword. “I can’t wait to wear it.”
“Take it from me.”
36
AIYING LET HER arrows fly, deftly moving through the trees with a line of rangers. She wanted to be part of the forward attack force, either in Renshu’s flight above, or the Shaolin generals’ charge below, but her chi had not yet recovered; her lack of strength was disappointing since she desperately wanted to make a difference in the battle to atone for her reign of possessed terror. Still, her ranger squadron had an integral purpose in the battle, providing cover for the troops after their initial attack on the first security tower, then springing forward to provide backup when their forces had pressed further into Tiger Nest’s defenses.
Every shot was careful and measured. They had emptied their quivers at the treehouse station and restocked from the Koon Gee’s supplies, but it was uncertain when new inventory could be found again.
A ninja angled above, so Aiying took aim, breathed, and dropped it. If her chi were whole again, she would have made the shot in half the time. Another ninja zigzagged through the branches and trunks to reach her, avoiding her arrows and making it within striking distance, but she was ready for it, calmly bashing it in the face with her sturdy bow to knock it from the heights.
She continued to hunt and looked for ammunition, spotting a back-turned ninja with its quiver still relatively full. She held her shot and stalked a couple of trees, waiting until the last moment to release her bowstring so she was close enough to grab her victim’s quiver before it fell away.
She reloaded and took stock of her surroundings.
Bright light flashed ahead, signs of intense battle from the Shaolin Staff. She noticed that the ground troop’s forward progress had stalled, and wondered what kind of trouble they were in.
A ranger stopped on her branch and greeted her. “Aiying.”
“What’s happening ahead?”
