"Hm. What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know. But let's do something this weekend."
Ash saw potential for disaster... but she couldn't turn him down. She hesitated.
"I'll pick you up here," Drake said. "That way, if I don't show, you're home. Convenient. But I will show."
Ash wanted to thank him, wanted to linger in his car... but she didn't let herself. He wasn't off the hook yet. She got out, shut the door, and leaned on it. "Okay. Let me know when."
For the first time since she had jumped in his car, Drake smiled. "I will." He shifted into reverse, and Ash stepped back.
"See you later, kid." Drake pulled into the street and sped off.
Ash stood in the driveway, watching him go, suddenly uneasy. Kid?
Kid?
#
Ash wanted to tell Elsbeth what she had learned that morning, and more importantly, what she'd done that afternoon. But dinner came first. Elsbeth cooked again, a dish Dad described as "fish and a lot of other stuff" and Elsbeth called kulambu.
"It's Indian," Elsbeth said. "But I first tried it in Malaysia."
"Really?" Dad asked. "What were you doing in Malaysia?"
"Traveling," Elsbeth said.
The food was fantastic. Ash could tell that Dad liked it too. If Elsbeth kept cooking, Ash figured that Dad would let her stay indefinitely. Ash could barely enjoy the meal, though. She had to get Elsbeth alone.
"Henry," Elsbeth said as they finished. "Would you mind cleaning up? I think Ash and I will take a walk."
Elsbeth had read her mind. How had she done that?
Dad's mouth was still full. He swallowed. "Oh. Where?"
Elsbeth smiled innocently. "Just around the block."
Dad shrugged. "Sure. You cooked, I'll clean. Be careful, you two. Take a cell phone."
Outside, night had fallen. Ash and Elsbeth started down the narrow sidewalk, under the branches of overhanging trees, still damp from the day's showers. After meandering past a few houses, Ash asked, "How did you know I needed to talk to you?"
"It was written on your face. And an evening stroll is a good habit. It will give us a chance to talk. We are going to need that."
"Dad really likes your cooking."
Elsbeth smiled. "He does, doesn't he?"
"Is that part of your plan?"
"My plan?"
"To stay here."
"Of course. I need to be here, you know that. And so I will remain in your father's good graces." Elsbeth shrugged. "But I'm also just being polite."
"He likes you," Ash said. "I mean, I think he likes that there's a woman in the house. For my sake."
"That's true. He feels that I'm a good influence on you."
Ash giggled. "If he only knew!"
"He won't." Elsbeth's tone was flat and serious. "Not ever. Ash... you understand?"
"Okay. Classified. Above top secret."
Elsbeth persisted. "You and me. No one else. You cannot disturb the Cloak."
"The Cloak?"
"Ninjas are men. Ninjas are Japanese. Ninjas don't exist. The Cloak."
Ash nodded and walked silently.
"So," said Elsbeth, smiling. "How was school?"
Ash launched into a summary of that morning – the cameras, the renovation.
Elsbeth let out a sigh. "The cameras may be a problem. And we'll have to move sooner than–"
"And Elsbeth! I ran today. I mean, I ran!"
"That's wonderful! Did anyone see you?"
Ash paused. "Oh. Well..."
"Ash, Ash."
"I couldn't help it. It just sort of happened."
"It's not an emergency. You're probably harder to see than you think. But you will have to learn prudence. For one thing, daylight is not our time." Elsbeth gazed at the yellow-gray clouds between the tree branches. "The night, however... the night is our guardian."
Ash threw up her arms. "Oh, great. Could you please explain that to Dad?"
Elsbeth laughed, a musical sound Ash hadn't heard before. "I'm afraid not."
"Well, anyhow. I did it. And I'm ready for more. What's next? What's the second Wile?"
"Not so fast."
"Elsbeth!"
"Shhhh."
"Elsbeth," Ash whispered, grinning. "I've got super powers. I'm ready." She spotted a rusty El Camino parked in the street, and stepped off the curb to its rear bumper. She blew out a breath and calmed herself, listening for her heartbeat.
Elsbeth paused on the sidewalk, watching.
Ash lowered her hips, and her fingers felt under the bumper's chrome, settling on a grip. She exhaled and lifted, willing the car to rise.
It didn't move.
Ash kept pulling. Her arms started to ache. Elsbeth leaned on the car and gazed at her. "Don't feel bad. I couldn't lift this car, either."
Ash let go. Her fingers burned. She rolled her shoulders, trying to stretch. "You couldn't?"
"It’s not about brute force. Ninjas aren't strong."
Ash felt her face heat up. She cleared her throat. "Well," she said softly. "All right then."
Elsbeth took Ash's hand and rubbed her fingers gently. "Walk with me a little farther. And I'll teach you something that you can use."
11
After another couple of blocks, Ash and Elsbeth crossed Thirty-Eighth Avenue and passed into the trees at the eastern edge of Discovery Park. The amber glow of the streetlights disappeared behind them, and all was black shadow. Ash clung to Elsbeth's hand, and Elsbeth guided her through.
"I can't see," Ash whispered. "How are you doing this? Do you have some kind of secret night vision?"
"Yes."
Ash stopped mid-step. "Seriously?"
Elsbeth squeezed her hand. "Your peripheral vision is more sensitive in darkness. Direct your thoughts, not your eyes. Shift your attention to where you are not looking."
Peripheral vision... Ash widened her eyes and tried to take in everything at once. She looked dead ahead, into vague blackness, and suddenly noticed gray roots and stones on the ground. Charcoal-colored tree trunks appeared to the left and right.
"I can see!" Ash whispered. She glanced at a tree on the right, and it vanished. She looked away, and it returned. "Wow. But just out of the corner of my eye."
"Practice. Here we are." They cleared the trees and entered a field, cut off from the city by woods on all sides. There were no lights, but after the darkness of the trees, it seemed brighter here. The city-lit clouds colored everything a soft yellow. Ash followed Elsbeth to the center of the field. She could hear a breeze shifting the leaves around them, and a soft sprinkle had started, little more than a mist easing down from the clouds.
"Take off your coat," Elsbeth said.
"It's cold."
"It's a nice coat." Elsbeth slipped out of her own jacket, folded it over her elbow, and set it in the grass. "I'd take it off."
Ash took it off and set it down. The grass was wet, and her shoes were already damp. She sighed. She'd already lost one pair of shoes today.
"Now." Elsbeth faced her. "Breathe."
Ash hugged herself against the chill in the air. "I am breathing."
Elsbeth briefly pinched the skin above her nose. "Breath is a gateway. It connects two worlds. It occurs unconsciously, like the beating of your heart, but it can be controlled consciously, like the muscles in your arm. It is a link between your mind and body, between the corporeal and the spiritual. In Latin, spirit refers to breath."
Ash couldn't help but think about her breathing now. She drew air in through her nose and said, "Okay."
"So breathe."
Ash sighed. "Still breathing."
Elsbeth listened. Ash just breathed and hugged herself, trying not to shiver. She had never been self-conscious about her breathing before. She caught the faint smell of wet grass and pine.
"Good sounds," Elsbeth said. "Athletic. I can hear the ballet. Anyway, we can work with it."
Ash frowned. "Work with... what?"
"With co
ntrol. Now, we'll change the proportions. I want you to count silently. Inhale to a count of six, hold your breath for ten, then exhale to a count of twelve."
"You're kidding."
"It doesn't matter how fast you count. It's the proportion that matters. Do it."
Ash inhaled, one, two, three, four, five, six. Then she held it for ten seconds. Then she exhaled, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven – her lungs were empty. She had to draw in a breath. "I ran out of air!" How could she screw up something like breathing?
"This is not an easy challenge," Elsbeth admitted. "Why don't you take a few minutes and practice breathing and seeing in the dark?"
Ash grinned. Sure, like any other homework assignment. "Elsbeth... you're a kick."
"I'm waiting."
Ash looked at the trees at the edge of the field.
In for six. Hold for ten. Out for... twelve? Her lungs were empty and aching at ten, she wheezed out "Eleven," and with no air left, mouthed the word "Twelve."
"Don't give up," Elsbeth said.
In Ash's peripheral vision, tree trunks and branches stood out in sharp detail, in shades of yellow and gray. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a loop trail among the trees at the field's far side. She looked straight at it and it disappeared.
In for six... slowly. She filled her lungs, puffing up her whole body, preparing for that killer exhale. She held for ten – easy. Then exhaled for twelve...
She gasped. "I did it!"
"More."
Six. Ten. Twelve. Ash had it now. Her body felt warmer, and she lowered her arms to her sides. Her vision was sharp enough to see the mist settling in pale masses into the trees. The upper branches, silhouetted against the sky, swayed gently as the breeze played with them. The branches whispered to her as they moved. The world came into focus.
I think I'm tripping.
Ash almost lost count. She focused her mind back to six, ten, twelve.
The whispering of the trees fell silent. Ash listened to the quiet as she counted. The descent of the mist slowed and it hung above the trees like fog. Individual drops, like tiny stars, appeared over her.
The air no longer felt cold, but it clung to her, thick and heavy as molasses, dragging at her whenever she moved. Ash looked at her hands, expecting to see it stuck there, puttylike.
I know this feeling.
Ash suddenly yearned for speed and had an overpowering urge to run.
"Good." Elsbeth's voice was a slow, dragging whisper. "Now catch." She drew something from behind her back. Her arm moved slowly... slowly... whatever had taken hold of Ash had hold of Elsbeth as well. Elsbeth flipped something into the air.
Ash watched it spin and glitter like a coin, rising, making a lazy arc. Ash stepped back, ready to catch it.
As it curved down to her, she saw it was no coin, but a wheel with four silvery blades like shark fins. She winced – it looked deadly – and reached for it, pinching it at its center between thumb and finger and drawing her arm down through the syrupy air to ease its fall, the way she would catch an egg.
She let its weight carry her arm, twisting her body, turning her in a full circle. Her feet skipped delicately, carrying her around to face Elsbeth and ending in the fourth ballet position. Her free arm floated gracefully for balance.
The grass, while long and green, hadn't bent as she danced over it. Instead, her shoes had mowed it, casting cut blades of grass into the air, where they hung suspended.
She scowled at Elsbeth. She could have lost a finger!
Elsbeth smiled innocently and opened her hand, beckoning Ash to throw it back.
The grass around Ash settled to earth, and her fingers closed gently around one of the shark fins. It felt wickedly sharp, but warm and smooth. She tossed it underhanded toward Elsbeth, her hand and forearm pushing though the air-drag. Her watch band dragged painfully at her wrist.
The wheel gleamed and wobbled. Elsbeth caught it and ran. Her body was shockingly fast, flowing and graceful, waves undulating through her hair and blouse. She skidded to a stop at the field's far side, leaving a wake of suspended grass blades behind her.
Ash kept her eye on the loop trail, and watched Elsbeth in her peripheral vision. She saw the glint of the wheel as Elsbeth wound up and fired it back.
Ash felt a hot rush of panic as the wheel raced to her. So fast! She reached for it and plucked it from the air, pulling her arm back in another cushioning egg catch. She spun her body, winding up as she'd seen Elsbeth do, and flung it at her.
Her watch band snapped, and her watch disappeared into the trees.
The wheel sailed off course, wobbling high and wide. Elsbeth leapt after it, snatched it mid-somersault, and flung it back to Ash before returning to the ground.
Ash was so dazed by the beauty of Elsbeth's move that she almost missed the catch. The wheel was hot to the touch now, heating up from its trips back and forth. Ash assumed some poise, lifted her carriage, and spun her body in a fouetté as she threw the wheel.
It went wild again. Elsbeth leapt into the air, caught it and sent it back, her body twisting like an Olympic high diver. This time, she had thrown it too high – it glinted against the amber clouds.
She had done it on purpose. Ash set her feet together and jumped.
Her body flew straight up. Ash was late – she pointed her legs and toes, knifelike, and stretched, reaching for the wheel. She caught a blade point in her fingertips.
Got it!
Her body kept rising. She had pushed off too hard.
She cleared the treetops and saw the sparkling lights of downtown Seattle and the ferries on their evening routes across Puget Sound. Her body came to rest at the top of its arc and started a slow descent. Deep inside, Ash's heart screamed in terror.
Way too high.
Her body accelerated. Ash kicked and scrabbled for something to slow herself, but that only threatened to tumble her body out of control. She pointed her toes and held her arms out, and plummeted feet-first to the field.
As she dropped below the treetops, Elsbeth leapt to catch her. She passed over Ash, pulled up at Ash’s wrists, and let go.
Ash landed on her feet – hard. Her legs folded, absorbing the impact. Her knees drove into her chest, and she sprawled on the grass, her breath knocked painfully out of her.
Elsbeth landed beside her. Ash curled into the fetal position, every part of her aching. The wind gradually came back to the trees, the grass softened, and the doughy air released its grip.
"Ow," she moaned.
"You need to be careful," Elsbeth said. "You're fast, but you're fragile."
Ash sat up. Her feet hurt. So did her wrist. The skin was tender and marked where her watch band had pulled at it. In the soft skin between her thumb and index finger, the wheel had nicked her. A single drop of blood ran across her palm.
Elsbeth picked up the wheel and helped Ash to her feet. "You have amazing form. But a lawn sprinkler has better aim."
"We'd better head back. Dad's probably worried."
"It hasn't been as long as you think. But yes, that's enough for tonight."
Ash would probably never see her watch again. At least she still had her shoes.
And at least now she knew how to trigger her speed. That was something. She took a few unsteady steps. Elsbeth put her coat over her shoulders and kept her arm around Ash, to guide her.
"Elsbeth," Ash said as they passed into the darkness of the trees at the field's edge. "The breathing... is that the second Wile?"
"No. Too basic. Every ninja can breathe."
"The wheel, then?"
"No. And it's called a star. Handy for all sorts of things. But we'll get to that later."
"What's the second Wile?"
Elsbeth shook her head. "When you're ready. Which you almost are."
Ash sighed and limped along, leaning on Elsbeth. "What about the Book Without Words, then? The secret formula that's supposed to be so scary? What is it?"
Elsbeth considered. "It's
late. Let's go home. But... why don't you look it up sometime?"
12
Spencer sat at his desk in the office broom closet, his fingers clicking on his laptop's keyboard. Today's masterpiece was an expose of political bias in Ms. Nelson's coverage of the Vietnam War. It could really stir things up, maybe get Spencer in some hot water – it was dangerous to go after faculty – but the controversy could help his career.
Creepy sounds echoed from the vent near the ceiling.
Not now! He was almost finished! And only five minutes left before the lunch bell blasted the paint off the walls–
But a strange, new voice came from Principal Alexander's office.
"What I don't get is why you think you can tell me to do this kind of stuff."
Someone young, male. A student? Spencer didn't recognize it.
And in reply, the smooth rumble of the principal.
"You don't seem to grasp the larger picture here. I'm thinking about your future. One day, you'll go farther than I ever did, you'll be more powerful than I ever was, and it will be because of the opportunities that you had today, in your youth. Because of the guidance I gave you!"
"I don't want your guidance. I didn't ask–"
"Don't take that tone with me. You know the challenges we face. You know who our enemies are. You know who I am, and what I'm capable of, and I don't mean as your father. Don't you?"
"Yeah, I know."
Spencer sat up straight. It was the world's biggest jerk, Drake Alexander. Getting chewed out by his dad. Excellent.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, I know... sir."
"Better. Enough disobedience from you. I tell you to do something – you do it. It doesn't matter what it is. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"You've got a unique set of skills. And your youth. That allows you to do things, allows you to go places, that I can't. I need you. We need you."
"Yes, sir."
"And you need me. We're so close. If we complete our mission, and do it in your lifetime... you'll be a king. You'll be more powerful than any mortal has ever been. That's my dream for you."
What could that possibly mean? Spencer quietly stood and craned his neck, tilting his ear to the vent.
Ninja Girl: The Nine Wiles Page 6
