by Morgan Rice
Cain. Except now, he had a shaved head, and looked much meaner and larger than she had remembered.
If he remembered Caitlin at al , it clearly was not with joy.
He had a meanness, a coldness in his eyes, that she hadn’t remembered. He wore a cut-off version of their uniform, and his muscles were bulging through skin. He looked like a hardened warrior.
He held in his hands two bamboo swords—one long, one short. He also had several other sparring weapons on his belt. Clearly, this was unfair. She was outmatched. She should have been given the opportunity to have equal weapons.
She glanced over at Aiden, indignant, but he looked in the other direction, indifferent. He knew she was mismatched with the weaponry. Apparently, he wanted her to be.
Caitlin didn’t have much time to reflect, because Cain burst into action. He grabbed something from his belt and in a flash of an eye, pul ed it back and swung it at her.
Caitlin was startled by it, but even more startled by her own reaction. Somehow, using some sense she didn’t even know she had, she managed to bring up her sword and swing it down, and strike away with the object in mid-air, before it hit her in the head. She looked down, and realized he had slung an object at her with his slingshot, a material that looked something like hardened rubber.
She was shocked not only at his speed, but his treachery. It was a cheap way to open a fight.
Cain charged right at her, a scowl on his face, leapt into the air, and aimed his two feet right for her chest. At the last second, Caitlin managed to dodge his kick—but she didn’t dodge the strike.
His feet, she realized too late, had been a distraction. At the same time, he had swung with his long sword, and hit her hard, right on her hip. The pain of the bamboo stung, reverberating right through her.
She spun to face him again, and now she was mad.
Al of his moves had been cheap, she thought. He didn’t have the courage to stand and fight her, head-on. She felt the indignity of it al coursing through her, and before she knew it, her veins ran with fire. She wouldn’t wait for him to charge again.
Caitlin charged, and leapt into the air for her own kick. As she predicted, he dodged himself, but she spun in the air at the same time, and backhanded him hard across the face.
The crowd oohed as the smack reverberated.
He looked at her with eyes meant to kil .
He charged head-on, swinging both swords wildly. This was just what she’d wanted. She got him off balance. Now he was out-of-control.
With her single sword, Caitlin managed to parry every single blow of his, click for clack, back and forth. He was fast, but, she was happy to realize, she was faster. She realized that she was, in fact, so fast, it was like she was in another dimension, almost like he was moving in slow motion.
She began to enjoy it. Every time she blocked one of his blows, she spun around, and cracked him in the side of the shoulder. She fol owed blow for blow, and cracked him on the shoulder, then the hip, then the stomach. She was toying with him.
Soon, she could see how confused he was, that he could not understand what was happening. As he spun another time, she grabbed one of his wrists, then grabbed the other, and kicked him hard the chest, stripping him of both of his weapons. He went flying back, onto the ground.
The crowd roared in approval. Clearly, Caitlin was the victor.
But Cain was furious. Apparently, he was not used to losing. Instead of graceful y admitting defeat, he got up and charged her again.
Caitlin hadn’t expected that. It happened so fast, before she knew it, he had his arms wrapped around her waist, tackling her, driving her hard to the ground. It knocked the wind out of her, and momentarily stunned her. He got on top of her, pinning her down.
Aiden stepped forward. “CAIN!” he yel ed out.
But Cain didn’t care. He’d pinned her down, and used his knees to dig into her arms, holding her in place so she couldn’t move. Then he reached up as if to choke her.
Caitlin felt an unearthly rage come over her. As she watched Cain’s hands go for her throat, she let her power overcome her for real this time. She broke free of his grasp, grabbed his wrist at the last second, and spun it around. She rol ed on top of him, twisting it back.
Caitlin then kicked him hard, right in the groin.
He slumped over, on the ground beside her, finished.
But she wasn’t done. He had summoned her rage, and that was not something she could easily suppress. She jumped to her feet, stil indignant, and kicked him again, hard in the stomach.
“Caitlin!” yel ed Aiden.
But she could barely hear him. She walked over slowly and placed her foot on Cain’s throat, and kept it firmly planted there. He couldn’t breathe. But she didn’t care. She felt the rage overcome her in waves, and wanted to stop, but knew that she could not.
Caitlin suddenly felt herself shoved hard, from the side, and felt herself stumble.
She looked over and saw Aiden, alone, walking towards her. She was confused: he was at least ten feet away from her. Then she saw his hand sticking out, and realized that he had managed to shove her without even touching her.
He scowled down at her, and she knew that she was in for a rebuke.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Caitlin found herself walking with Aiden through a path in the woods. She could tel that he was silently fuming, as he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d summoned her to fol ow him.
After the fight, he’d led her outside the circle, away from the others, and had lifted off in flight with her. She had fol owed, feeling like a chastised schoolboy. She didn’t like the feeling. She felt that she was old enough now to be able to learn her own lessons from the fight. Besides, Cain had had it coming.
Now they tramped endlessly through forest, until final y, they came to a large clearing in the woods. The sunlight broke through the trees, lighting it up.
Aiden final y stopped and turned to her.
“I’m disappointed in you,” he said.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Caitlin snapped back, preparing her defense. “You saw the fight. He fought dirty, from the beginning.”
“It doesn’t matter. You should have transcended that.”
“He was trying to hurt me. To really hurt me. Even when the fight was over.”
“You let down your guard too quickly,” he answered. “A battle is never over.”
“Wel , it’s your job to mediate these fights. If you’re mad at anyone, you should be mad at him,”
Caitlin snapped back, fuming with anger. She’d had enough of being chided. “Why don’t you go and chastise him? Why are you chastising me?”
Caitlin realized she was raising her voice. She had lost her patience for authority figures, and it felt good to final y tel him what was on her mind.
Aiden seemed completely composed. He merely shook his head slightly, expressionless.
“I have chosen to speak with you and not him,” Aiden began slowly, “as a reward, not as a punishment. You have the potential to hear what I have to say. He does not. You have the potential to become the best warrior I’ve ever trained.
He does not.”
“You’re NOT my father!” Caitlin snapped back. “I don’t need to be here. I don’t need to listen to you!”
Even as she said it, she realized she sounded bratty. But she couldn’t stop herself. She was so mad at people trying to boss her around her whole life, and she was tired of answering to people.
She was also tired of taking the blame for everyone else’s mistakes.
“You are correct,” Aiden said calmly. “I am not your father.
And you do not need to be here. Or to answer to me. You choose your path in life, every step of the way. You only need to stay here if you choose to,” he reminded her calmly.
Caitlin thought about that, and slowly calmed down. He was right. She had chosen to be here.
And she did want to train. She just…we
l , she didn’t know what it was. She had just been so mad she could hardly think straight.
“Your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness,” he said. “Your passion. Your fury. I’m not saying that you should have not beaten Cain. What I am saying is that you should not have beaten yourself.”
Caitlin tried to decipher what he meant. As always, it was so hard to grasp, at first glance, what he was saying. She realized it was another one of his statements that she would have to contemplate.
“What you stil fail to see is that your current powers are limited. You have, inside you, so much power—more than you ever dreamed of. I want to show you how to tap that power. You are stil caught up on superficial things, like winning and losing, and anger and revenge. If you want to grow stronger, you’l need to reach the deeper levels.”
Caitlin breathed deeply, and began to calm down.
Whenever Aiden talk, she relaxed. The more she listened, the more she realized that he actual y was not like al the other authority figures in her life. She realized that he was not, actual y, trying to control her. He real y just wanted to help her.
She was grateful for that.
“What do I have to do?” she asked.
Aiden took a few steps out into the clearing, and turned and faced her. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He held up his staff, so that the edge of it was touching her shoulder. She could feel the wood pressing lightly into her skin.
“Take off your shoes,” he said.
Caitlin did so. The soft grass felt good beneath her feet.
“Close your eyes.”
She did. It seemed like minutes passed in silence; she was just beginning to wonder what he was doing, when she heard his voice again.
“What do you feel?” he asked.
Caitlin thought.
“I feel…the wood, your staff, touching my shoulder. And I feel the grass beneath my feet.”
“What else?” he pressed.
Caitlin concentrated.
“I feel…the wind in my hair…I feel the warmth of the day.
The humidity. It’s sticky on my skin.”
“Yes,” he said. “Very good. Now, I want you to reach out, palm up, and hold the staff between us. Keep your eyes closed.”
Caitlin reached out slowly with her hand, and grabbed hold of the staff. It was an ancient, worn, smooth wood, and she could feel the energy coming off it as she grasped it.
“Don’t grasp it,” he said. “Just place your hand beneath it and hold it. Don’t make a fist.”
Caitlin loosened her grip.
“Good,” Aiden said. “Now while you hold it, I want you to tel me what you feel.”
“I feel a piece of wood,” she said. She felt stupid, but she was not sure what else he wanted.
“What about the wood?” he pressed. “Can you feel each individual grain? Can you feel its weight? Can you feel its thickness, its length?”
Caitlin focused harder. Slowly, she began to feel al the different textures and elements of the wood.
“Good,” Aiden said. “Now, very slowly, lift the wood, high above your head. Use only your palm, not your hand. Use only the energy running through your body, coursing through your palms.
Find it. Feel it.”
Caitlin focused, and as she did, she felt her palm grow warm, felt a bal of energy exude from it, as she slowly lifted the piece of wood.
“Good,” Aiden said. “Excel ent.”
He paused. “Now open your eyes.”
Slowly, Caitlin opened her eyes.
She was shocked by what she saw.
There, before her, was Aiden’s staff. But it was not actual y in her hand. It was hovering, in the air, about ten feet above her, over her open palm.
She looked at Aiden, in shock.
As she did, the staff dropped from the sky and landed hard on the ground.
Aiden frowned.
“You broke your concentration,” he said.
“How did I do that?” Caitlin asked, stil amazed.
He reached down and grabbed his staff.
“It is one of your many powers. It’s the only one I want to teach you for now. You have it inside you. I cal it centering.
You can use this to move objects a great distance from you.
Or to bring them close to you.
“You see, there is no separation between you and the physical universe. As soon as you realize that, you wil master the art of combat.”
And with that, he turned and walked off into forest. And after two steps, he completely disappeared. Caitlin searched everywhere, but he was gone.
She stood there in shock.
But even more in shock at herself, and at what she had just done. Just how deep did her powers run? And how much about herself did she have left to learn?
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Sam stood in the Roman Colosseum. He was dressed in full battle gear, armed from head to toe, wearing a helmet.
He looked out through it to see another warrior facing him, also dressed in full armor.
He charged, and the two of them sparred furiously.
The warrior facing him was bigger and stronger, but Sam parried with him blow for blow. Sam was getting more and more tired with each strike, and finally, his arms were too heavy to lift. He sunk to his knees, as the warrior raised his sword high, ready to plunge it into Sam’s chest.
Sam blinked and opened his eyes to see that he was standing in the desert, the hard-baked sand stretching beneath his feet as far as his eye could see. In the distance was a giant mountain, and Sam found himself slowly hiking up it, using his sword as a staff. He was now dressed in a white robe.
Sam pulled back his hood, dying in the heat, and looked up the mountain. There, at the top, was a man outlined by the sun. The man also wore a white robe and hood, and held a staff. Somehow, Sam knew that this man was his father.
Sam hiked higher, excited to meet him, trying to increase his pace, determined to reach him. But it was getting harder with each step, the mountain steeper, and as he looked down, he saw snakes and scorpions slithering all around him. It was getting hotter, too, and he knew the road was treacherous, and that he wouldn’t make it.
Sam, too tired to go on, looked up.
“FATHER!” he screamed.
His father smiled down at him, with a look of pure love, as he slowly pulled back his hood. The light was shining off of his face, and Sam could see that the two of them looked alike.
Suddenly, Sam stood in the cobblestone streets of Paris.
It was nighttime, there was a thick fog everywhere, and amidst the torchlight, he saw a huge façade of a church—
and somehow, he knew that it was the Notre Dame.
Sam opened the huge, medieval door, and stepped inside. It was gloomy and empty. He walked down the aisle, and as he did, he saw floating in front of him, a huge silver key. The light shone off of it as it floated, hanging in midair.
Sam reached out, and was about to grasp it. He knew that this was a key that he needed to have. Somehow, he just knew that this key would save his father’s life.
Sam woke up, breathing hard. He looked al around, disoriented, expecting to see his father.
But he was nowhere in sight. Sam spun several times, trying to get his bearings, to realize where he was.
He was lying on the silk blanket, on top of a hil , in a field of grass, and Kendra was in his arms.
They were both naked.
Sam thought back, and quickly remembered. Sleeping with her had been amazing, and he was stil shocked that she had gone from showing no interest in him to wanting to be with him so quickly. Had she been playing games al along?
Or was that just her personality?
Whatever it was, it felt so good to have her in his arms. He looked down at her pale, soft skin, her curly blonde hair.
Her chin was nestled in his chest, a slight smile on her face.
Was she just using him? Or did she rea
l y feel as strongly for him as he did for her? And how was it possible that he could have such strong feelings for someone so quickly?
Was this al real?
Whatever it was, the one thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to be away from her side.
Sam thought of his dream. It was one of the strangest and most vivid dreams he had ever had.
He had never seen his father before, and the dream had felt more like a meeting. He struggled to figure out what it meant. But he had no idea.
Sam suddenly remembered something, and sat up. The afternoon sparring. He heard that Aiden would be there today, and he was determined to be there, too, to get Aiden’s attention whether he was summoned or not. He looked down at Kendra’s watch, and saw it was already 4:30. He was half an hour late.
Sam sat up with a start and hurried to get dressed, determined to make it on time.
Kendra sat up quickly, alarmed from her sleep.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Aiden,” Sam said. “I need to see him. I’m late.”
Kendra frowned back at him.
“I should imagine that your time spent with me is more important than your time with him,” she said, petulant.
Sam looked at her, and saw how upset she was, and he stopped.
“Please, understand. I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just that
—I need to see him. I can’t miss him again today. And I’m already late.”
Kendra looked away, clearly offended.
Sam didn’t have time for this, though. He finished getting dressed and jumped onto his horse.
He looked down and saw that Kendra was moving slowly, taking her time, gathering her clothes slowly and putting them on. It appeared that she was not going to be rushed for anyone.
Sam was impatient. “Please, Kendra,” he said. “I need to go now!”
“Then go!” she snapped, angry. “I’m not stopping you!”
Sam sat there on his horse, looking back and forth from her to the path, unsure what to do. It was clear that she was not going to hurry.
