by Guy Antibes
Jack recognized Iraishi, Keneto, and Torii standing with Okiku talking quietly. Misika and a few other Pearl Mist members conversed.
“You have finally graced us with your presence,” Torii said. He looked disappointed or upset. Jack couldn’t tell which.
Everyone took their place. Iraishi sat in the center with Torii and Lord Kaseru on either side. Grigar, Namori, and Jack took the center cushions. Jack waited for his chance to talk.
“You failed last night,” Iraishi said. “We had expected better of you. At least you could have put up a fight.”
“Why?” Grigar said. “We were told not to damage Lord Kaseru’s guards.” The wizard nodded his head toward the lord.
“And who said we failed?” Jack asked.
The three Masukaians looked startled.
“The book was still where I hid it,” Kaseru said.
“Namori, would you recite the passage?”
After Namori finished, Okiku snapped her head toward the girl. “How did you find out what I wrote in the book?” Her face was reddening with indignation.
“Jack brought it to me last night.”
“When last night?” Iraishi asked.
“Before midnight, maybe half an hour before,” Namori said. “He left us and replaced it before we went back to bed, waiting for our performance at the gate.”
Kaseru nodded and stroked his wispy goatee, smiling. “Ah. You told me you had retrieved it at the gate, didn’t you?”
Jack purposefully looked crestfallen. “I had expected you to inspect your bed as soon as the gates were closed.”
“How could I when we expected your appearance at the gate was a diversion? I had a man follow you out of the alleyway,” Kaseru said.
“The diversion was the comment that we would arrive at three in the morning. I couldn’t sleep, so I teleported onto your grounds. Why crawl over a defended gate anyway?” Jack smiled. “I teleported to your treasure room on the third floor and heard you tell me where you put the book to Iraishi Ranturo and Torii Ishoru. I left the room when you three exited onto the porch to watch the guards gather.
“You were in the room?” Iraishi said with disbelief.
Jack nodded, trying not to smile again. “Air slippers. It was easy to teleport into Lord Kaseru’s sleeping chambers and exchange the book for another while I returned to the inn where Namori memorized the passage.”
“Teleportation is a strength of his,” Okiku said. “That is established, but I didn’t expect—”
“The unexpected?” Iraishi said. “That is a Deep Mist principle. You know that, Okiku. He has surpassed my expectations.”
Torii nodded. “Why don’t you tell us what risks you took and what could have gone wrong?”
This was more like the debriefings Jack had experienced at Deep Mist. He started by explaining they had purposely planned an unconventional route. “Secrecy is important to the success of a mission, so I talked about going through the gate and starting the foray at three hours after midnight. The three-story building was a surprise, but one that actually played in our favor. We expected a treasure room, and it was an easy guess it would be at the top, but that might not have been the case. The room might have been guarded, but I landed on the empty porch, so my exposure was minimized.
I planned to examine the three floors and return at midnight, but when the top room had distinguished visitors, I heard where the book was. That wouldn’t happen in our real mission since no one will be preparing for our intrusion and talking about defensive measures.”
Jack continued discussing possible problems, describing guards with crossbows, hidden forces, and not being able to find the book. “There are plenty of things to go wrong. The more information we have, the better. It is always the case.”
“I don’t see any reason why you can’t begin preparing for your real mission,” Iraishi said.
Jack’s stomach seemed to hollow out. This could be his most perilous mission yet. “We can start now if you wish,” Jack said, hoping a little bravado might settle his sudden onset of nerves.
Okiku shook her head. “No, we aren’t ready. A servant who is to provide the layout of the house has been unavailable until tomorrow. We can talk about possible strategies to overcome the possible barriers you mentioned with two high-ranking wizard-warriors for the rest of the morning.”
“Misika isn’t a wizard-warrior graduate?” Grigar asked.
“A little lacking on the warrior side,” Misika said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
~
T he two wizard-warriors were men of Fasher’s age: older than Tanner, younger than Grigar. Jack sat down on a sitting cushion with a small writing desk complete with an ink block and brushes. Jack wasn’t the most proficient writing Masukai characters with a brush. He much preferred a pencil, but he didn’t complain.
The Deep Mist agents sat across from Jack, Grigar, and Namori. Okiku sat at one end facing them both.
“You have the list of things Sakoru identified as areas that could go wrong. I would like your perspective on what Sakoru’s team could have done differently.”
“What did you do?” one of the men asked Jack.
These men carried the arrogance he had ascribed to Deep Mist graduates, but Okiku felt Jack could benefit from their experience. He took a deep breath and told them the same story that they had presented to the Pearl Mist leaders. He made sure Grigar and Namori participated.
Both men wrote down notes. “You really can teleport those distances?” one of them asked.
“He can,” Okiku said. “There is no other way he could have accomplished what he did last night.”
They both pursed their lips, and one of them shook his head, looking less arrogant. “That means you can do anything.”
Jack laughed. “You should see my scars, and I am not very far into my twenties.”
“Any good Deep Mist candidate will say the same,” one of the two said.
Jack nodded, knowing that they were right. “There are limitations to teleportation. A good stealthy wizard-warrior can do much the same.”
“Nearly,” the same one said. “Teleporting from a residence to an inn is beyond my capability, but I can make it out of a walled mansion in a few moves. I can see your point.” He looked down at his notes. “From what I can see, the more detailed information you have on the target site, the better your chances.”
Jack nodded. He thought the same. Okiku looked a little disappointed.
“Why don’t you join us on a stroll through the capital.”
“Can I bring along my friends?” Jack asked.
Both of them shook their heads at the same time. “Just wizard-warriors, if you don’t mind.”
Grigar shrugged. “It will be good if you go,” the wizard said.
“Are we through here?” one of the Deep Mist men asked.
“We are if you say so. The plans are expected tomorrow,” Okiku said, rising gracefully from the floor.
Jack stretched, as did Grigar. “I’ll see you when we get back,” Jack said as he followed the two men out of the training room.
They exited out onto the parade thoroughfare. Jack had no idea where they were going.
“Something to eat?” one of them said. “I am Hidori, and this is Simaru.”
“Sakoru Sinda is my Masukaian name, but I go by Jack.”
“Zhack?” Simaru asked. He still put a little vowel sound at the end.
“Good enough,” Jack said. “I’m always up for something to eat.”
They took him to a small restaurant a few blocks west on the other side of the parade route.
“The woman who runs this comes from my home town,” Hidori said and smiled. “Simaru tolerates the food, and you might as well.”
Jack was shown inside, and an older woman pointed to a table in the back. She smiled and kept bowing to Hidori.”
“We will have beef,” Hidori said.
“Bought fresh today,” the woman said with a smile and anothe
r bow.
A young woman brought a metal stand and lit a magical fire underneath after pouring some kind of light broth on a metal bowl with a chimney in the middle.
“We put everything in the pot and let it simmer,” Hidori said.
“Like stew?”
“More like a wonderfully tasty soup. The art is using vegetables that hold up to the boiling and herbs that transform the ingredients into a feast worthy for Akkora.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Simaru said. “The vegetables include some rather hot peppers.”
“Spicy. I’ve had to endure that kind of food before,” Jack said.
As the young woman added ingredients to the soup simmering in front of them, Hidori asked about his experiences at Deep Mist. The men knew Ruki Sinda; Jack’s mentor; and Rekori, the swordmaster. It was as companionable a conversation as Jack had ever had with Masukaians. He sat among men who regarded him as a peer. Not a youngster or a precocious wizard, but one of them.
Jack didn’t quite know how to savor the feeling, but he absorbed the conversation and enjoyed the soup, which wasn’t as hot as he expected. The broth was wonderful, especially after the young woman had skimmed off the fat from the beef, which she constantly did during the meal.
“Let’s see your sword,” Simaru said.
Jack pulled the sheathed sword from his sash and handed it to the Deep Mist wizard-warrior.
“This is one of the better training swords? It looks like Rekori gave you a chance to pick the one you wanted.”
Jack nodded. “It works well enough.”
“But it isn’t what a true Deep Mist warrior carries. That is why we wanted you to join us. It is time to pick out the kind of weapon you deserve.”
“Rekori asked you to do this?”
Hidori shook his head. “Ruki Sinda. I communicated with him this morning when Okiku told us of your exploits last night.”
“I don’t mind this sword.”
Hidori didn’t look pleased. “Look at mine.” He gave his sword to Jack, who pulled it out about a foot. The blade was a dull black, but it was unquestionably a work of art, just what Jack saw. “This is the blade of a Deep Mist wizard-warrior. It is hard to see in the dark, but its beauty is unquestionable.”
Jack had to agree. His own sword was made by a master, but this one exuded another level of craftsmanship.
“Where do you find a blade like this?” Jack asked.
“We will show you. Time to go.”
They left the restaurant. The owner bowed to the three of them as they left.
“You don’t pay?” Jack asked.
Hidori laughed. “I own the place,” he admitted.
“I complimented you on your choice before I knew,” Jack said.
“He noticed,” Simaru said.
They walked through streets that twisted this way and that until Jack would have been lost if he had been by himself. Finally, they entered a craftsman district. Jack smelled the odors of industry. They passed ceramics shops, furniture makers, blacksmiths and more until they arrived at an armorer’s shop.
“The best swordmaker in Masukai supplies weapons to this shop. There are never more than a few sets available at any one time,” Hidori said.
Jack followed the men in. They walked to a counter toward the back. Edged weapons were displayed on hooks set into the wall.
A young man was polishing a short sword. It gleamed in the room, but it wasn’t one of the Deep Mist black swords. He looked up. “I will get my master.”
An old man, bald on top with long wisps tied back into a ponytail walked into the room. He straightened up when he saw the three Deep Mist wizard-warriors.
“Hidori and Simaru. You are back in Yomomai for long?”
Simaru shrugged. “We might be. Zhack here is newly minted and needs a suitable weapon.”
“I have four sets in stock.” The man looked at Jack. “You are a lucky young man. Our master swordmaker makes each set with different characteristics. We will make a great match for you. May I see your current weapon?”
Jack pulled out the practice sword.
“You chose this at Deep Mist?” the swordmaker asked.
“I did. This suited me the best.”
“There are two that may work. Nomi will fetch them.” The swordmaker conferred with his assistant who disappeared from the shop to return with two long slim boxes finished in glossy black lacquer.
“Compare each with your training blade. We have an empty room through that door.” The swordmaker pointed to a sliding door on the left side of the shop. Jack stuffed his sword into his sash and took the two boxes with him. Hidori and Simaru followed.
“We will help you test your blades,” Simaru said with a wide grin.
Jack drew his used sword. Simaru smiled as he bared his Deep Mist weapon. Jack had to admit the sword was beautiful. “
“A little sparring?” Simaru said.
Jack nodded. “I’m not that good.”
“Let’s see how terrible you are.”
Jack touched the void and stood ready for Simaru to attack.
The sparring match was a flurry of steel and exhilarating. Jack was faster than Simaru. Where Rekori, the Deep Mist swordmaster was technically superior, Simaru was an elemental force, yet Jack could match him stroke for stroke with his training blade.
“Enough!” Hidori said. “My turn. Pick one of the Deep Mist blades.”
Jack opened the first box. The sword had seen a sparring match before. He wondered if there was anything wrong with the weapon, but he hefted it. The difference between the feel of his training blade, and this one was like night and day. The sword felt stronger than the training weapon but was definitely lighter. He didn’t know how the swordmaster crafted such a weapon.
After touching the void and exchanging a few blows, Jack knew that Simaru was the better swordsman and Jack was better than Hidori. He let the man spar longer to think Jack was trying hard.
“This is marvelous,” Jack said. “I don’t know if I even want to try the other one.
“I want another crack at you,” Simaru said.
Jack opened the next box and took in a quick breath. This sword had never met another blade. The finish was a bit duller than the others, but there was a crease in the sword that the others didn’t have. It might add a bit of stiffness, he thought as he slashed the air, but it was still lighter than the practice sword. It had maybe a few inches on the other blade too.
“I like this one,” Jack said.
“You should,” another man said as he stepped into the room. “Oshi dragged me here to witness one of you select my swords. Let me see if you deserve one of my finer works.”
Jack bowed to the swordmaker and then did the same to Simaru, who was definitely the more challenging swordsman of the two.
Jack touched the void and waited for Simaru, but his opponent would have none of that. He motioned Jack to attack him first. Jack nodded and began a low swipe at Simaru’s knees, which the man stopped with the back of his blade. Simaru reversed his sword with amazing speed. Jack was sure neither Hidori nor the swordmaker would have been able to follow the blade with their eyes. To Jack, though, every move was slow and easy to follow. Fighting another enhanced swordsman was like that.
They continued to spar, but Simaru began to slow down while Jack remained in the void. Simaru finally raised his hand. “No reason to knick our blades any further. You are the fastest person I have ever faced. A bit rough here and there, but even your magic outlasts mine.”
Jack smiled and bowed. Simaru was the first person that admitted the meditation technique was actually a magic spell. “Thank you for giving me chances. I don’t think I can defeat you,” Jack said, but he thought he could tie the man in most matches.
“And your sword?” the swordmaker asked.
“Akkora-sent,” Jack said. “It is the finest sword I have ever wielded.” He intended it as a compliment only, but as Jack thought back on the match, the sword truly outmatched
any sword he had ever used, even Fasher’s.
“It is yours, and you deserve it. Simaru is one of the best swordsmen Deep Mist has ever produced, and you sparred with him to a draw.”
Simaru gave Jack a knowing smile. The Masukaian knew he was better, and that was easy for Jack to accept. Before he learned to touch the void, half of the swordsmen he met could thrash him.
“Now you will have to learn how to use two swords,” Hidori said. “It is not a skill taught at Deep Mist, but we will work with you starting tomorrow morning. With your speed, you should become proficient enough for it to make a difference in your fighting. Now for a few bits of armor.”
The box that the sword came in also contained a short sword about half the length of his new blade. The grip wrappings were of some kind of dark skin that had a grippy feel if rubbed in a certain direction. Everything about the two matched weapons was exquisite. Jack didn’t know if he deserved such a treasure, but he had fought at the same level as his two companions. If there was a question about the warrior part of his title, it had to have been answered, and that was before archery and star throwing.
They walked back into the shop.
“The box is not yours,” the swordmaker said. “But you get a sack of throwing stars made to match your sword.” He had already placed a box wrapped with a silk cover on the counter. “I must leave you.” He bowed deeply to the three of them and left the shop.
“Armor?” Hidori asked.
The bald shopkeeper looked at Jack and rubbed the side of his face. “The wristbands are close enough if a bit gaudy with the colored cuffs. Perhaps shoulder guards, but not out of metal. I’ll fetch the armorer.”
Jack pulled out the short sword and admired the workmanship. He had a hard time accepting that the blades were his.
A burly man, tall for a Masukaian, but still shorter than Jack, strode in.
“A foreigner?” he said first.
“A Deep Mist graduate,” Simaru said. “He and I sparred to a draw. Really.”