Warrior Genius

by Michael Dante DiMartino

  “And how am I supposed to stay calm with a Preta about to devour my soul?”

  Yaday opened the jar and sprinkled some dry leaves into a mortar, then ground them with a pestle. “Are you familiar with meditation?”

  “No, not really.”

  Yaday pulverized the leaves into a green powder that he poured into the now-boiling kettle. “It is a way to clear away all distractions, self-doubts, and mental limitations. Even the most powerful warriors practice meditation to strengthen their body-mind connection. The warrior’s katar is the spark to sacred geometry’s fire—”

  “Like my pencil,” Giacomo interrupted.

  Yaday nodded. “But the mind is what controls the flames. To resist Vrama, you must learn this control too. Are you ready to get started?”

  Every muscle tensed as if Giacomo’s body was warning him not to do this. He looked at Mico, who was perched on his finger. “What do you think?” The Genius chirped brightly, which Giacomo took as a good sign.

  With a metal hook, Yaday pulled the kettle off the fire and filled two cups with steaming liquid. He handed one to Giacomo and gestured to a cushion on the floor. “Please, sit and relax.” Yaday sat across the fire from him.

  Giacomo sniffed the tea. It smelled like sweet flowers. Mico dipped his beak into the cup and took a drink. “That’s not for you,” Giacomo scolded.

  “Actually, the tea will help you both relax.” Yaday sipped from his cup.

  Giacomo brought the cup to his lips and swallowed. Warmth seeped through his body and into his fingers and toes. The knots in his muscles melted. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead.

  “Close your eyes, focus on your breathing, and let my words guide you,” Yaday said, his voice tranquil and smooth.

  With each breath, Giacomo’s stomach and chest gently rose and fell. But almost immediately, doubts and distractions began to crowd his mind. What do you think you’re doing? This is stupid … Ajeet’s only using you … It’s never going to work … I’m hungry … But I just ate breakfast …

  “When thoughts arise, let them float away like clouds in the breeze,” Yaday interjected.

  Giacomo tried not to think, but every time he released one thought, a new one popped up. Soon, he was trapped in an endless loop of thinking about not thinking.

  This is maddening, Giacomo thought, then caught himself.

  Stop thinking.

  There it was again.

  ARRGH! This is impossible!

  Yaday must have sensed Giacomo’s internal struggle. “Relax your mouth, your jaw, your brows…”

  Giacomo brought his awareness to his face, which had hardened. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Like wax softened by a candle’s flame, the tension melted away.

  “Sometimes it helps to focus on a simple image,” Yaday said.

  In his mind, Giacomo summoned a familiar shape—a single point of light surrounded by a circle, which he saw each time he practiced sacred geometry. Almost immediately, his limbs, his muscles, his whole being seemed … weightless.

  “Now, staying calm, I want you to imagine a painful or fearful situation,” Yaday said.

  “Why?”

  “Save your questions for later. For now, simply perceive.”

  Giacomo focused on the circle’s rippling surface where a faint image began to appear. The circle swelled larger and the shape filled his whole vision. Before he knew it, Giacomo was back in the piazza by Nerezza’s palace.

  “Mico, what’s going on?” Giacomo looked around and discovered that his Genius had vanished.

  A racking pain vibrated throughout his body. His head throbbed, and his heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest. A singular thought consumed him: I’m going to die …

  He brought his hands to his face, and to his horror, they were red and sticky.

  Behind him, someone screamed. Giacomo whirled around to find Milena sprawled on the ground, her clothes blood-soaked. Savino, Aaminah, Enzio, and Pietro huddled around her. Savino pointed at him, shouting, “You did this!”

  Giacomo stumbled back, reeling. He couldn’t have hurt Milena. He never would do something like that.

  Unless …

  With a start, Giacomo pulled himself from his meditation. He was panting, and sweat trickled down his face.

  Yaday gazed at him from across the fire. “It’s all right, you’re safe. What did you see?”

  “I … I had become something awful. I attacked Milena…” He couldn’t help but be reminded of Zanobius’s violent breakdown at Niccolo’s villa.

  “It sounds like you’re afraid of losing control,” Yaday said. “That’s precisely the kind of fear Vrama could feed off.”

  “How do I get rid of it?” Giacomo asked desperately.

  “You’ve already taken the first and most important step—acknowledging the fear.”

  19

  THE SFUMATO FOREST

  Since he required neither rest nor food, Zanobius walked nonstop for two days and nights after leaving the villa. With no destination in mind, his four feet carried him over Zizzola’s green hills, across windswept valleys, and through the snow-dusted mountains. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation, so he was careful to steer clear of farmhouses or villages. But Zanobius knew he couldn’t roam for eternity. He needed to find someplace to live far away from any humans, where he could escape the terrible things he’d done.

  Your soul will never be at peace …

  Zanobius shook off his master’s voice and forged on.

  As another day waned and the sky glowed red with the setting sun, his journey came to an abrupt stop at the edge of a sheer cliff. Zanobius stared out in awe at the deep, wide canyon before him. A wave of feelings overwhelmed him, squeezing his chest tighter and tighter.

  I’m truly all alone.

  Zanobius sat and dangled his legs over the rocky edge. He gazed up at the stars blinking on until they blanketed the sky. And as he struggled to decide where to go, another forgotten memory surfaced.

  A few weeks after he and Ugalino had fled Virenzia, they were flying on Ciro, soaring over an expansive forest. Zanobius suggested that it might be a good place to hide for a while.

  “The Sfumato Forest is no place for me,” Ugalino had said. “People believe it is infested with deadly creatures, so humans don’t dare tread there.”

  The memory faded, leaving Zanobius with a new destination. He found the Guiding Star with his finger and drew a line across the sky until he found Laterna the Lion. He followed the constellation’s southward-pointing tail and forged into the night.

  * * *

  When Zanobius arrived at the borders of the Sfumato Forest a few days later, he was met by a dense wall of gnarled trees. It was as if the forest had built its own defense against the outside world. Howling animals and screeching birds called to him from the woodland’s shadowy interior. He shouldered his way through a tangle of barbed branches that scraped and pierced his skin, and after clearing the thicket, he waded through a bog, the murky water lapping at his waist.

  Finally, he came to the heart of the forest, where trees with broad trunks towered like giants, forming a thick canopy that blocked the sun. Zanobius pressed on through the darkness, keeping an eye out for a cave or hollow tree trunk—a place he could make a new home.

  A green glow lit up the forest floor, and Zanobius looked down to find a luminescent patch of mushrooms at his feet. As he continued walking, the light trailed him, moving from mushroom patch to mushroom patch. Zanobius picked up his pace, zigging and zagging, but everywhere he turned, the glowing mushrooms followed, lighting his way.

  Farther on, he heard a deep growling. Zanobius stopped and wheeled around.

  “Who’s out there?” he bellowed.

  A pair of enormous yellow eyes pierced the blackness. The growls grew louder. The eyes blinked, then moved closer. More mushrooms lit up, casting an eerie glow on a bipedal beast lumbering toward Zanobius. It was nearly twice his height, and its muscular arms and
legs were matted with gray hair.

  It was also headless.

  The creature’s bulging eyes, fat nose, and gaping mouth were embedded in its torso. It regarded Zanobius with a strange stare, then grunted a string of sounds. Leaves crunched and twigs snapped, and from between the trees, a dozen more headless creatures emerged and surrounded Zanobius.

  Bracing for the creatures to lunge at him, Zanobius raised his fists, but the forest dwellers didn’t return the threatening gesture. Instead, the gray-haired one asked, “What are you?”

  Dumbfounded, Zanobius dropped his guard. “You speak Zizzolan?”

  “I do,” the creature’s voice rumbled. “Now, explain who you are. None of us has seen a human like you before.”

  “That’s because I’m not a human, I’m a Tulpa. An artist created me. Most humans think I’m a monster.”

  “And these humans drove you into our forest?”

  “In a sense. I came here to be alone.”

  “Instead, you found us.”

  “And what are you, exactly?”

  The creature’s smile was enormous and toothy. “We are the Blemmyes, stewards of this forest. I am called Ch’Leeno. Did your creator give you a name?”

  “Zanobius.”

  “Welcome, Zanobius.” Ch’Leeno motioned to the other Blemmyes and spoke in a series of short grunts. As they retreated into the darkness, Ch’Leeno turned to Zanobius. “Please, join us.”

  Zanobius followed the Blemmyes through the forest until they reached an immense cave. Its rocky walls were covered with moss and more glowing mushrooms. Dozens of Blemmyes with various hair colors ventured from the tunnels, curiously observing their new guest. In his native tongue, Ch’Leeno introduced Zanobius to his clan, then invited Zanobius to sit on one of the rocks that with others formed a circle in the middle of the cave.

  The Blemmyes ripped handfuls of moss and mushrooms off the walls and stuffed their mouths full. Ch’Leeno passed a helping to Zanobius, but he waved it off.

  “Thank you, but I don’t require any food.”

  Ch’Leeno shrugged, then swallowed his own meal in one gulp. “So Tulpas don’t eat?”

  “Others can,” Zanobius said, thinking of Giacomo. “But my master didn’t create me that way.”

  “He denied you a great pleasure,” Ch’Leeno replied, devouring another pile of mushrooms. By the time the Blemmyes had finished their feast, the moss and mushrooms had begun growing again.

  Zanobius was in awe. “Incredible.”

  “We live in harmony with the Great Mother,” Ch’Leeno explained.

  “Who is she?”

  “The entire forest. She gave us life and sustains us. She offers us visions of what was, makes us aware of what is, and prepares us for what might be. In return, we protect her from those who might do her harm.”

  “The mushrooms…” Zanobius realized. “They lit up like they were tracking me.”

  “From time to time, humans stumble into our territory, either by accident or because they seek to harm us. Through the mushrooms, the Great Mother alerts us to their presence, and we drive them away.”

  The way Ch’Leeno spoke of the Great Mother reminded Zanobius of the way humans sometimes spoke of the Creator.

  “If the Great Mother gave you all life, does that mean there are no Blemmye mothers and fathers?”

  “We are neither men nor women. Only Blemmyes.” Ch’Leeno led Zanobius to the mouth of the cave and pointed to a tree that had fallen. Several large lumps had erupted out of its bark. “Inside those growths are the next generation. Wherever a tree dies, more Blemmyes are born.”

  “How old are you?” Zanobius asked.

  “I was birthed many centuries ago, during what humans call the age of the tetrad. But the Blemmyes have lived here for millennia, long before humankind appeared.”

  Zanobius asked Ch’Leeno how he could speak Zizzolan when the Blemmyes had such limited contact with humans. It turned out that a long time before, Ch’Leeno had become curious to know more about humans and their way of life, so he decided to venture to the outside world. But everywhere he went, humankind had met him with fear and violence. That sounded familiar to Zanobius.

  “I soon returned to the safety of the Great Mother, but I didn’t leave empty-handed.” Ch’Leeno shoved aside a rock, revealing a stash of scrolls and books in the cave wall.

  “You taught yourself to read,” Zanobius said, impressed.

  “During my travels, I did meet one young man who didn’t fear me. He taught me his language and gifted me these books to continue my studies.”

  Zanobius couldn’t help but think of Enzio, Giacomo, and Aaminah, who had stood by his side despite his having lost control. He hoped they were all still safe.

  Ch’Leeno rolled the rock back in place. “What’s your story, Zanobius? How come you left the human realm?”

  “The artist who created me controlled my mind and forced me to do horrible things. Now that he’s gone, I don’t trust myself to be around others.”

  “I see…” A heavy silence hung between the Tulpa and the Blemmye. “You’re welcome to stay in the forest as long as you like,” Ch’Leeno offered. “In the Great Mother’s arms, you will find only peace.”

  Zanobius nodded, grateful. “That’s what I was hoping.”

  * * *

  Zanobius found much to admire in the Blemmyes’ way of life. Unlike humans, they strived to exist in harmony with their environment and one another. They didn’t dwell on the past or fear what might happen in the future. As each moment transpired, they received it without judgment, content with what the Great Mother had provided them.

  Taking their lead, Zanobius spent his days exploring the forest, observing his new home. The meditative walks calmed him and put his mind at ease. However, one afternoon, his serenity was broken when a thick mist swept through the forest. Worried he might get lost, Zanobius hurried back toward the Blemmyes’ cave, but the fog quickly enveloped him.

  Zanobius stumbled around blindly, unable to see even a few inches in front of him. From somewhere in the haze, a woman whispered to him.

  To be at peace, you must never forget …

  Was that the Great Mother speaking to him? What did she mean?

  Suddenly, the fog cleared, and Zanobius found himself surrounded by bronze and marble statues. He recognized his master’s old studio back in Virenzia and realized he wasn’t just recalling an old, dormant memory—he was reliving it.

  Ugalino burst through the door, a panicked look on his face.

  “Zanobius, Nerezza found out about you!” he shouted. “We have to leave!”

  They could already hear soldiers’ boots thundering toward the door, so Ugalino and Zanobius raced up the stairs and onto the balcony outside, where Ciro waited to carry them away.

  But someone else was waiting for them too—Supreme Creator Nerezza. She sat on the neck of her black-feathered Genius, grasping a long paintbrush. Her gaze locked onto Zanobius, and her eyes flashed with an expression that he read as fear.

  No, Ugalino corrected, speaking to Zanobius through his mind. That’s the look of jealousy. She knows she will never be able to create anything as magnificent as you.

  “I will give you one opportunity to destroy your monster,” Nerezza said. “If you refuse, I will destroy it for you.”

  “I refuse,” Ugalino snarled. He raised his pencil, gesturing in a blur, and blinding white light shot forth from Ciro’s crown. Nerezza and her Genius took to the sky as the stones exploded below them.

  Soldiers crashed onto the balcony. Upon seeing Zanobius, they recoiled in shock but quickly recovered and leveled their spears.

  I’ll handle Nerezza, Ugalino told him in his mind. You kill the soldiers.

  At first, Zanobius thought he had misunderstood his master. Ugalino had never ordered him to do anything so violent before. Zanobius tried to resist the command, but he discovered he could not.

  He did not feel connected to what happened next. Bones cracke
d. Men screamed. Soldiers flew into the air, limbs flailing. Then came quiet. Zanobius peered down at the tangled mass of bodies littering the street, aghast at what he had done.

  Zanobius, help!

  He turned to find his master sprawled on the balcony, his robes torn and smoldering, struggling for his pencil, which lay out of reach.

  Nerezza looked down from astride her bird-Genius, hovering overhead. She flicked her brush, and her Genius targeted Zanobius next. A violet light beamed from Victoria’s gem and struck Zanobius, throwing him into the wall. Bricks crumbled around him. He staggered to his feet, but Nerezza rained down more streams of light.

  His arms shattered into dust.

  His legs disappeared from under him.

  Piece by piece, Nerezza blasted Zanobius into oblivion until there was only darkness.

  Some time later, Zanobius regained consciousness. To his surprise, he was back in his master’s studio. Ugalino sat slumped in a chair, snoring, a curved sculpting tool dangling from his hand.

  “Master?”

  Ugalino snapped awake. “Zanobius!” His voice was full of relief.

  “What … what happened?” Zanobius asked groggily. “I thought Nerezza destroyed me.”

  “I rebuilt you. You’re more powerful now, more resilient.”

  Zanobius stretched out his four arms and curled his fingers into fists. A new strength coursed through him.

  “As long as I’m alive, Nerezza can never truly end you,” Ugalino assured him.

  But that didn’t stop her from trying.

  Eventually, word of Zanobius’s resurrection made it to Nerezza, and it wasn’t long before she and her army descended upon them once again. This time, there was no chance to run. They hadn’t even heard the soldiers approaching when the windows of Ugalino’s studio filled with a violet glow. The building crumbled around them. Nerezza had razed it to the ground.

  Zanobius rose from the rubble, carrying his injured master. Ciro swooped in and took Ugalino on his back, but before Zanobius could climb on, soldiers swarmed him.

  While Ugalino’s and Nerezza’s Geniuses clashed in the sky, Zanobius fought for his life on the streets. Eventually, he and Ugalino battled their way to the city’s outer wall, where Ugalino and Ciro finally brought down Nerezza in a blaze of light. At the time, he thought they’d killed her, but as it turned out, Nerezza was rather resilient herself.