by Cole Gibsen
My heart knocked painfully against my chest, drawing the blood from my body and leaving me shivering. “Excuse me?”
“Have you even seen one of these before?” he asked, gesturing with his head to the slightly curved sword still in his hands.
I shook my head while taking a step backward. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to be afraid,” Kim said. He swung the sword in a circle in front of him, then drew the blade back so that he presented the sword to me hilt first. “Here. Take it.”
“If you think I’m all impressed by your pointy-object collection, you’re seriously mistaken.” I recoiled from it as if it could bite. I thought Kim and I had a deal—now I wasn’t so sure. Had I made a fatal mistake in coming here? Too many scenarios from Nana’s beloved crime dramas flashed through my mind. Being alone with a crazy guy and his sword was never a good thing.
He took another step forward, urging me with his eyes.
I took another step back. “We had a deal. You wanted to show me something. I’ve seen the sword, and now I’ll be going.”
Kim shook his head. “You haven’t seen what I want to show you yet. By the way, this sword,” he inclined his head toward the weapon, “is a katana. Japanese samurai used them in battle.”
My nerves were so fried, they bordered on crispy. “Okay, that’s great. I appreciate the history lesson, Kim. But I’m really not comfortable with what’s going on. This was a mistake. The whole thing is a mistake.” I spun on my heels, but wound up almost smashing my face against his chest. Startled, I took a step back. “How did you move so fast?”
He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he thrust the blade toward me. “Take it,” he repeated.
I hesitated, slowly bringing my fingers up to hover over the blade. I didn’t want to touch it, but I figured if this guy was nuts, it was probably better that the blade was in my possession. Self Defense 101: A weapon is always better than no weapon when dealing with crazies.
Carefully, I wrapped my fingers around the handle, bracing myself in the event he decided to snatch it back. Instead, he stood as still as a statue, moving only to suck in a breath as I lifted the sword from his open palm. I cast him a nervous glance, waiting for him to do something, but his gaze remained locked on the katana. Figuring I was safe for the moment, I turned my attention to the sword in my hand. Strangely, it felt familiar: the weight in my hand, the texture of the wrapped handle, even the size of the hilt. I knew I’d held one before; I just couldn’t remember when.
“Does it feel familiar to you?”
The precise timing of his question left me too stunned to answer. This whole situation began to have an unreal feel to it, like walking the line between a dream and the darkness that surrounds it.
“I understand how much this is to take in.” His eyes softened, and for a minute he seemed sincere. “You are confused. Your world has been thrown off balance, and you are having conflicting thoughts and feelings about things you were once so sure about. You don’t know who you can trust, including yourself.”
Once again, he’d put my thoughts into words. “How—How do you know these things?”
He laughed. “You are not the first to experience the awakening.”
“The wha—” I tightened my grip on the sword.
“The awakening,” he repeated matter-of-factly. “Walking through the shadows of your past life.”
I choked down a laugh. Past lives—he couldn’t be serious.
As if sensing my disbelief, he almost grabbed my arm, but stopped short before actually touching me. He let his hand linger in the air above my arm so I could feel the heat radiating from his open palm. He balled his hand into a fist and dropped it down at his side. My skin tingled where his fingers no longer hovered.
“Why wouldn’t you consider the possibility that you were a fighter in a previous life? Rileigh, it was those forgotten skills that resurfaced when you were attacked.”
I was going to answer him when the familiar wind stirred through my head, raising the hairs along the back of my neck.
They’re waiting. Behind the door.
My laughter came out a pitch higher than normal. I quickly choked it down and shook my head furiously, as if I could somehow shake the voice loose from my skull.
Kim frowned. “Rileigh … are you well?”
I stopped shaking and smoothed my ruffled hair back with my hands. “You’re wrong. It was adrenaline that helped me that night. That’s all.”
“Oh, adrenaline. I see.” He turned his body away from me, watching me from over his shoulder. “Is that what you really think?”
I wanted to tell him that yes, that’s exactly what I thought, but I didn’t have the time. He spun around so quickly that he was nothing but a blur of color. I saw his kick form just as fast and knew that his intended target was my head. I closed my eyes—my first instinct—giving myself no time to make any other move.
Waiting for my nose to be bashed in, I was startled when a slight breeze tickled past my cheek.
Cracking my eyelids open, I found Kim towering over me wearing a smug smile. I felt slightly dizzy and it took me a minute to figure out why he loomed so far above me —somehow I’d ended up crouched on the floor, with one hand defending my face and the other bracing the katana out in front of me. I dropped the sword like it was on fire.
He laughed. “Did adrenaline help you do that?”
I barely heard him over the blood pounding in my head. I couldn’t believe he’d tried to kick me, regardless of whatever point he was trying to prove. What if he’d been wrong? I’d have been knocked out cold. Hot flames of anger licked along my insides. I embraced it, allowing it to burn away the fear and insecurity still inside me. I’d had enough. “Listen, buddy, I may not know what’s going on here, but the next time you try to kick me, remember one thing.” I picked the sword up and stood up to face him. “I’m the one with the sword, and apparently I know how to use it.” I wasn’t sure I really believed that, but this guy was entirely too cocky.
He laughed again, a deep-throated hearty sound that reverberated throughout my body, melting my anger. That, more than anything else, scared me.
“Well,” he said when he could speak again, “that’s what I intend to find out.”
“Yeah, how’s that?” Even if I wasn’t angry, I could still act the part.
He turned away from me and headed toward a door to the side of the mounted weapons. He opened it a crack, turned his back to me, and said, “It’s time.”
I had a moment to wonder who he was talking to before three figures, dressed in what looked like head-to-toe white pajamas, stalked through the door. The scarves wrapped around their heads hid their faces, but it was more than obvious from the intensity in their eyes that they weren’t here for a slumber party.
I licked my suddenly dry lips as trickle of sweat ran down the length of my spine.
Their eyes weighed me as they made their slow, steady approach. They didn’t stop until I was placed in the middle of a very dangerous circle. Moving in sync, they reached behind them and drew out their own katanas. The tips of the blades flashed in the light of the overhead fluorescent bulbs. Scared as I was, I couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of their movements—how each move held enough grace to make even the most practiced ballerina jealous.
One of the figures raised his sword over his shoulder, and my own terrified eyes were reflected back at me from the blade. “Oh no, no, no.” I held a single hand in front
of me.
The three figures took a collective step closer.
My heart dug into my chest like a jagged stone. This was crazy! I wasn’t supposed to die this way—diced to pieces by ninjas. It sounded ridiculous just thinking it in my head. “Kim,” I pleaded, “I don’t know what you think is going on, but it’s not true. I’m not a reincarnated warrior. I just got lucky before. I can’t fight. Don’t let them do this!”
His face was an exp
ressionless mask. “There is no other way.” He bowed his head. “Kill her.”
13
The first attacker lunged for me, screaming, with his blade held high over his head. As he got close, the cold silk from the attack outside the parking lot returned. It unraveled from within, stretching to my fingers and toes. It pushed open my lungs, allowed me to breathe, and froze my fear into a solid lump that fell and shattered against the hard pit of my stomach. As it had in the mall parking lot, a calm focus flooded through me and pushed the confusion from my mind.
This one is inexperienced with a blade, the voice whispered. It won’t take much to bring him down.
I felt the unfamiliar smile return to my lips—this was going to be fun. I dodged the outstretched blade inches before my skin was to be torn apart by sharpened metal. Spinning behind the first attacker, I ducked low to the ground, kicked my leg, and swept his feet out from under him. He landed on his back and groaned.
The next attacker circled me, his eyes darting nervously back and forth between me and his fallen comrade. His body was rigid as he waited for an opportunity to move in.
This one is looking for a hole in our defense. We mustn’t give him one.
“Sounds good to me,” I whispered.
The attacker hesitated.
I straightened my stance. “Yeah that’s right, I’m talking to myself! What of it?”
He peeked over his shoulder at Kim, who motioned him back to me with a nod. We circled each other, back and forth, staring, each waiting for the other to make the first strike. Eventually, his muscles shuddered with strain and he dropped into a crouch.
He’s going to make his move.
I swung the blade out in front of me in a defensive stance, ready and waiting. He paused as uncertainty flashed behind his eyes. Was he changing his mind?
She’s coming from behind.
I sensed the girl behind me before I saw her. It was an odd feeling, to know a person’s movements without seeing them, just like when I felt Whitley listening in on my phone conversation. I didn’t have time to be freaked out by the new sensation—
I needed to move. I spun and dodged her blade, which missed my shoulder in its downward arc. She was faster than the first attacker and twisted to face me before I was able to dart away. With another yell, she swung her katana high, exactly as I anticipated. I raised my blade to protect my face and decided that if she insisted on aiming for my head, I didn’t want her holding a blade.
Our swords met, sliding with a hiss before I flung her back with a hard shove. She stumbled, but caught herself. She yelled and pushed forward again, aiming for my throat. She lashed out, but this time I sidestepped the blow. As she fell into the space I’d deserted, I planted a knee in her stomach.
She cried out, doubling over as she hugged her sides. I grabbed her by the arm, positioned my body along her side, and used her own weight to flip her over on her back. She cried out again and dropped her katana when she hit the floor.
I plucked her blade from the ground so that I now held one in each hand. Swinging them before me, I turned my attention to the remaining attacker. The man turned and glanced nervously at Kim, who was too busy smiling at me to notice.
“I thought you couldn’t fight?” Kim said.
“When I’m done with this guy here,” I said, licking my lips, “why don’t you come over here and find out?” I crossed the two blades in front my body.
I was ready.
The standing man—left with no other options—dropped his shoulders and charged. As he hugged his sword against his body, I brought my arms inward to meet his blow and pushed out the moment I heard the hiss of metal sliding down metal.
His initial grace lost, he scrambled backward, almost tripping in the process. I let him get about twenty feet from me before I lunged. His eyes—I noted with pleasure—bulged from his head as I advanced. Bringing my blades back tight against my body, I dove between his legs, snaring his right knee with my foot as I rolled through.
He tumbled down, but rolled over and hopped to his feet in one fluid motion.
No problem. My mind, already a step ahead, instructed me what to do and where to move. I could barely keep up with my own actions—kick, dodge, roll. I wasn’t in control, so I just sat back and enjoyed the ride.
But the ride was a long one. I wasn’t certain how long I’d been fighting. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but it felt like hours. How long could this guy keep attacking me? How long could I fend him off? Another kick. Another sword strike. Both missed their target. I was vaguely aware of a slow burning creeping through my muscles. I was tiring. It wouldn’t be much longer.
My attacker was tiring too. He moved slower, sloppier. His kick went wide and I used that moment to launch my own kick between his shoulder blades as he swung past. He sailed past me and landed, gasping for breath, on the mats. I lowered my arms, twisted my blades downward, and trapped his sword in a steel grip. With another twist, I swung my arms to the right and tore his katana from his grasp, flinging it across the room.
“We’re finished here,” Kim said from across the room.
Oh, but I wasn’t finished. Not even close.
I stood over my fallen enemy, both swords quivered in a high arc above my head. Finishing a yell that I hadn’t even realized I’d begun, I brought the two blades crashing down.
“Senshi, NO!” Kim’s yell brought me back, but not soon enough.
I closed my eyes just as the girl attacker cried out. In that instant, the world froze so that nothing existed but me, the dark, and the girl’s scream echoing through my ears. What had I done? A pounding pressure built in the back of my skull until a massive migraine consumed my whole head.
“It’s okay. I’m okay!” It was a male voice.
I opened my eyes cautiously, blinking against the light that amplified the pounding in my head. The remaining attacker was still on the floor, untouched. His head lay between the two blades I had planted mere inches from his ears.
He sat up slowly, pulling down the scarf that covered his face and exposing a lopsided grin. “That was amazing!” He laughed, stood, and patted my shoulder. He was short for a teenager, only a couple inches taller than me. He pushed back his white hood, exposing wavy auburn hair. “Incredibly scary, but still amazing!”
Moments ago, this guy was trying to kill me—now he was smiling and patting me on the back? I didn’t understand, but didn’t feel well enough to talk. I hated not being in control of my body, and the last move was just a little too close for comfort. No, amazing was not the word I would use. Terrifying, horrifying, gut-wrenching—those were much better choices.
Suddenly I was hit by a headache so intense that my vision blurred. Each pulsing throb became more terrible than the last, until I was sprawled on the floor, unsure of how I got there.
Kim appeared before me. His fingers almost brushed my cheek. Again he caught himself, stopping short before we touched. He turned and spoke to the others, but I couldn’t make it out. I was too far away.
My vision swam in a kaleidoscope of multicolored triangles that tumbled and merged, forming new triangles that fell into the same tumbling pattern. Inch by inch, darkness crept along the edges of my beautiful hallucination, like ink seeping into a rag. Tighter and tighter, until—for the second time—I fell into darkness.
14
Japan, 1493
Staring at the pool of blood outside Lord Toyotomi’s door, Senshi struggled to swallow the bile that pushed up her throat. She drew a sharp breath while sliding her katana free from her obi. There was so much blood—too much for anyone to—no, she couldn’t think that.
As decorum required, she announced herself before entering Toyotomi’s room.
“Help us!” a female called back. The despair in her voice tugged on Senshi’s heart and pulled her into the room as fast as her feet could carry her.
Just as she feared, she was too late. Two house maids huddled together on Toyotomi’s sleeping mat. The
first, a girl in her early teens, rocked back and forth. Her vacant eyes looked at Senshi, but stared through unseeing. She had raked her nails down her cheeks, leaving tear-diluted bloody trails down her face and throat. The second, an elderly woman, cradled an unmoving Toyotomi in her lap, whispering words of comfort while stroking his long, white hair.
Right away Senshi spotted the arrow protruding from Toyotomi’s chest. “No,” she whispered. It couldn’t be. She approached cautiously, not believing her eyes. Toyotomi had saved her from the pleasure district when she was a young girl. He took her into his estate, and, despite the outcries of most of the other samurai, started her training. Senshi kneeled beside him, hesitant to touch him and confirm the worst.
As if sensing her presence, Toyotomi smiled. “Senshi. I knew … you would come.” His face, normally the color of the herbal tea he was so fond of, was now ash gray. With great effort, he placed a trembling hand on her knee.
That single touch shattered her. She threw herself onto his lap, clutching the fabric of his robes as if her grip alone could keep his spirit rooted on earth. “My lord, I have failed you.”
He chuckled without sound. “No,” he whispered, his chest straining to give sound to his words. “Never fail … not you … my greatest honor.”
“What?” She lifted her head, exposing the long trails of tears that ran down both cheeks.
“Senshi … I saw … great things. You … did not disappoint.”
“But I—”
Toyotomi lifted a single finger. “Do not … argue
… dying man.”
Senshi bowed her head. “Forgive me.”
Toyotomi closed his eyes and smiled, but his peace was short-lived as a coughing fit tore through him. When at last he was through, he waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing … forgive. Now go … help others.” He tried to take another deep breath, but instead coughed up flecks of blood.
Senshi shook her head as she clasped her hands around his. “You need help.”
