“Yes it is. I’m afraid it is.”
“This is Aurora’s passage?” asked Meja.
“Yes it is, although most have forgotten the way to creating it. As you can see, some still recall the method,” said Sylk.
“This is impossible,” said Meja.
“No, it is improbable, not impossible,” said Sylk as he drew closer to the wall.
THE WATCH
I HAD NO idea what Aurora’s passage was but it seemed to make Meja pause. If it made her pause, I paused as well.
“What is Aurora’s passage?”
Sylk turned to me and pointed at the now- mirrored surface of the wall.
“This is Aurora’s passage.”
“Let me ask the next obvious question. Who was or is Aurora?”
“She was one of the first to navigate the mirror. She documented the passages and where they led. The rumor is that her travels drove her insane. No one knows for sure. Her body has never been found and I daresay she has chosen to remain hidden from all except the most daring, insane or persevering. Perhaps we are a bit of all.”
Symbols had formed around the mirrored area on the wall shifting a faint yellow to red. They looked vaguely familiar.
“So what, she’s dangerous? Is this another threat to worry about? We don’t have enough people chasing us? Now, we are going to use some insane woman’s passage?”
“Not dangerous, elusive,” said Sylk. “She was one of the first to travel the mirror, documenting what existed where. She was also a wavedancer.”
“Wait a minute, she was related to Lucius?” Sylk raised an eyebrow and nodded. “His sister, although between the two of them, I would say her skill surpassed his.”
“Wasn’t she killed when they eliminated the bloodline?”
I was fully aware that Sylk may have been the last living relative or member of that bloodline. The fact that I stood before Aurora’s portal only lent credence to that.
“By the time the elders,” he said the word with disgust, “decided to wipe out the entire Iman bloodline, Aurora was already presumed lost.”
“And no one was going to go looking for her, I’m guessing?” I said.
“Aurora’s passage is not like this place. The closest approximation you would understand would be a maze or labyrinth, made of mirrors.”
I let that sink in a moment and looked at Meja. “Are you kidding me?”
Sylk stood in front of the entrance to the passage. He lightly touched the symbols along the edge, which became violet.
“Did I mention that she was also thought to be quite insane by the time she disappeared?”
“Yes you did,” I said
“Insane with a vicious sense of humor or so I am told, since I have never met her.” As I followed his hands, slowly touching symbols, it came back to me where I had seen those symbols before. Many of them were the same symbols along the shaft of Maelstrom. This was getting better by the second.
AURORA'S PASSAGE
SYLK PUT HIS hands on the wall. The symbols flared for a second and then returned to their dull violet pulsing. The wall was not an entrance. I knew there were rules to mazes and labyrinths. The story of Theseus came back to me, and somehow I felt that a minotaur would be the least of our worries. As I looked in, I could see the reflective surfaces of the mirrors—even the floor and the ceiling were mirrored. Prolonged exposure was a guaranteed trip to madness. I wondered if Aurora went crazy because she had to walk this labyrinth. It seemed plausible. I didn’t like this idea for a second.
“Is this the only way we can make the run to the Watch?” I asked.
Sylk turned to face me, his face serious.
“It’s the only way to ensure that we are not followed, especially by your Black Lotus. There is not one among them that can open this passage,” Sylk said as he pointed to the mirrored hallway.
“We have to take it, Dante,” said Meja.
I realized that on some level they were waiting for me, that I was influencing their decision. Sylk looked at me knowingly.
“It hinges on you, warrior. I can open the door but I cannot force you through it.” I knew I was going to regret it.
“Let’s go, then,” I said as I stepped into the mirrored passage. The effect was immediate. Once the last of the group stepped in, Sylk turned to seal the entrance. Once done, it was reflection upon reflection.
“Stay close,” said Sylk, “and focus only on the person in front of you. I will try to lead us out of here as swiftly as possible.”
“What do you mean try?” said Meja.
“As I said, Aurora was considered unbalanced, and this labyrinth changes every time it is entered, making it impossible to map. Those that have tried have ended up dead or worse, roaming these passages endlessly. Trust no one you may see.”
Nice of Sylk to omit that little detail of a shifting labyrinth. We continued single file with Sylk taking point, and the rest of followed.
“Can the Watchers enter here?” Zen asked.
“In theory, yes, but since we are not a threat to anything here and this is not an area that requires watching it is unlikely we would encounter them in this place.”
Somehow his answer was less than reassuring. He must have seen the look on my face.
“There are no guarantees, save that one day we will die. Embrace that fact and life will be worth living.”
We spoke as we walked, our voices hollow and muffled as if in a padded room. Sylk stopped at an intersection, extending his hands into each corridor and choosing the right one.
“Why not the other passage?” I asked as we walked the corridor.
“I’m surprised you can’t sense it, warrior. That corridor held certain death. This one, on the other hand, provides us with an opportunity at survival.” We made our way to a fairly large room.
I don’t know how he sensed certain death, since it felt that way the moment we entered. In the back of my mind, Maelstrom whispered something indiscernible, and I felt his presence increase. Before I realized it, Sylk was beside me. “Keep your power in check and do not lose yourself or you doom us all,” he whispered.
Ahead of us was a figure, and even from this distance I could tell it was female.
“Is that –?”
“No, it’s not Aurora. Just one of the lost who cannot find their way out of this place. If she is still alive, it means she is quite formidable in power.
“Do you know the way out?” the woman asked.
“I can lead you out if you let me,” said Sylk.
“Really, you know the way?” she asked almost childlike. She was young, around mid-twenties and very attractive. Her waist long hair fell loosely, framing her face. She wore a loose-fitting robe, covered in some kind of emblem I couldn’t make out.
“But if you know the way out, why are you here?”
“We are merely journeying to another place.”
“Those symbols,” whispered Meja, “I recognize them, they are ancient monitor symbols.”
“How old?” I asked.
“About 100 years ago, but that can’t be. It would mean she is—“
“Very old,” I finished.
“Where are you going? Can you take me?” she asked.
“We can lead you out but we cannot take you with us,” said Sylk.
“I want to go with you. Take me with you,” she said a little more earnestly.
“You can come with us and we will lead you out,” said Sylk evenly.
“You are a liar!” she suddenly screamed.
All the while during the short conversation I noticed Sylk tracing something with his foot on the floor. When she screamed, he stomped his foot down, creating a wall of orange energy just in time to catch the blast that was launched at us. Even with the barrier, it sent us flying back.
“Now you will all die,” she said.
Her robes flowed and fluttered as if caught in a strong wind. I realized that it was her power that was creating the change in air flow around her
, like a wind tunnel.
“Stay back, all of you,” said Sylk. He approached the ancient monitor with measured steps.
“You don’t want to do this. We are no threat to you,” he said easily with his arms outstretched.
“You lie! We came in here because you sent us. They all died horribly. I’m the last one left.” She hugged herself as she whispered those last words. I had no doubt now that she was clearly operating in a very different reality. Sylk’s hands were glowing white. When she saw his hands, she seemed to snap back to the present. Sylk clapped his hands together and a white band of energy enveloped the ancient monitor. It looked like she was subdued, at least I thought so, until she started laughing hysterically.
“Fool! You think you can hold me with this?” she screamed. With a flick of her wrist, she bisected the energy holding her and stepped toward Sylk, who was clearly surprised.
“Do you know who I am? I am Mariko the last.” Meja gave a sharp intake of breath.
“It can’t be, —not her,” said Meja.
“Sylk! You cannot let her touch you,” said Meja.
“I am aware of the rumors surrounding the infamous Mariko,” said Sylk. As he spoke, a blade materialized in his hands. It appeared to be a slice of emptiness. It was a black so intense that it seemed to absorb light. It emanated darkness and a feeling of unease crept into my abdomen. As I looked closer, I could now see the slight Asian features in Mariko’s face. Her hair flowed with the energy she expended, creating a black halo around her head. Her almond shaped eyes glistened with madness.
“Who is she?” asked Zen. I was still transfixed by Sylk’s blade to ask the obvious. Meja answered without taking her eyes off Mariko.
“It’s in all the historical texts. She was one of the first monitors. Her ability was to siphon energy by touch. She was known as the monitor of Death. In her time, she was without peer in ability. Most believe the Mikai are her descendants.”
Even I knew who the Mikai were. A covert group of assassins that made the story of ninjas seem like a welcome nightmare. I wouldn’t be surprised if ninjas were an expression of the Mikai. From the look on Meja’s face, we were in serious danger.
MARIKO
MARIKO STOOD STILL, facing Sylk. A red sickly glow enveloped her hands.
“Let me put you out of your misery. I promise it will be delicious,” she purred.
“I have grown rather fond of my misery, but thank you for the offer. You won’t be terribly offended if I refuse?” answered Sylk.
She moved like a blur of energy. Her attack a lethal dance. We were in a fairly large room, mirrors all around replicating our images over and over. Mariko was graceful and lethal. She lunged forward, attacking with a velocity that made it near impossible to see her hands. All I could follow was the red energy trail. Each attack was parried or avoided entirely by Sylk. Every time Sylk attacked, his blade would miss by a fraction of an inch. After about ten minutes, sweat began to bead on Sylk’s forehead. Mariko began to laugh.
“I can see your demise. Can you see it?” she purred.
Sylk remained silent, realizing the taunt for what it was, a distraction. The energy in her hands grew slightly and disconnected, floating around her. Sporadically a smaller sphere of energy would detach and launch itself at Sylk with blinding speed. Things were not looking good. Mariko continued to evade every attack as she drew closer to Sylk. The color in her hands shifted from red to black. As she drew closer, Sylk launched an attack of energy spheres. Mariko reached into her belt and pulled out a long rectangular object. She flicked her wrist and the rectangle in her hand opened into a fan. As Sylk’s spheres bore down on her, she stood perfectly still in a crouched position. On the fan was an image of a dragon devouring a tiger. As each sphere was about to impact she would step slightly to the side and allow the fan to take the impact. Each time the fan was hit, a small shockwave would emanate from Mariko. Just enough to cause a stirring of air.
“The fan is absorbing the energy of the spheres, which means at some point she will release all that trapped energy,” said Meja.
“We need to move, now!” said Mara.
“Are you quite finished?” said Mariko, growing serious. Sylk looked tired but ready for anything. Sylk again did not answer.
“Very well, I tire of this game, let us end now.”
We were moving away from them when I felt a thump in my lower abdomen followed by a shockwave that sent us all flying across the floor. Only Sylk stood his ground, his sword cutting through the shockwave. His face, arms and any exposed skin was lacerated, as if he had been dragged across a rough surface. Mariko raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Very well, then. I have yet to meet a warrior worthy of my weapon. Perhaps you will fare better than those who have fallen before you.”
Sylk, clearly in pain, clenched his jaw. We all stood up slowly. Mariko placed the fan in her belt and placed her hands together as if in prayer. As she separated her hands, a sword hilt appeared in her left hand. The rest of the blade appeared to be withdrawn from the palm of her right hand. The blade wasn’t long—maybe thirty inches. It was a straight sword coming to a point, and the edges looked razor sharp. Each side of the blade was covered in symbols but unlike Maelstrom, the symbols on Mariko’s blade shifted and moved, travelling up and down the length of the sword.
“What the hell is that? I’ve never seen a weapon with moving symbols, “said Zen.
We were backing up as a group. Clearly, the blade Mariko wielded made Meja and Mara uneasy.
“No one knows its name, just what it’s been called,” said Meja.
“What?”
“If that blade touches any live flesh, it immediately kills it, not just the area it touches. There is a delayed effect, after some time, days, weeks, months in some cases, the person dies as death courses through the body. No one has been able to defeat that weapon, that’s why it’s called Death’s Finger.”
Mariko now had the fan in her right hand, open, and Death’s Finger in her left. She was a blur as she approached Sylk. For the first time, I realized that Sylk was outmatched. As he parried and evaded, I think Sylk realized it as well. Mariko advanced, lunging with Death’s Finger as Sylk raised his own blade to deflect the lunge. Mariko turned in a circle, bringing the fan around in a deadly arc cutting Sylk across the right cheek. The fan was so sharp that the wound across Sylk’s face didn’t bleed for the first twenty seconds. Sylk didn’t have a moment to think about the cut since Mariko kept attacking.
“It is only a matter of time, warrior. You will fatigue and commit an error —your last.”
Mariko was right. It was only a matter of getting Sylk tired. Then she would find an opening and exploit it. Sylk was going to die unless I could stop Mariko. Against my better judgment and every instinct, which screamed at me to run in the opposite direction, I headed towards Mariko and Sylk.
“Dante, no!” It was Zen. “That’s suicide. If Sylk can’t handle her, you sure as hell can’t.”
I grew angry and quickly channeled it. There was no purpose in getting angry at Zen. I quickly ran towards Sylk and Mariko. In my head, Maelstrom stirred and whispered.
“Are you rushing to your death, vessel?”
“No. I have to keep Sylk alive.”
“You do not possess the skill to defeat his opponent. In addition, she wields an envenomed blade.”
“I realize I don’t possess the skill but you do.”
“I do.”
I opened up and let Maelstrom take over, he/it rushed in and I had the sensation of being inside and outside of my body at the same time. As I approached, I saw Mariko slice Sylk just below his right shoulder. She ducked a lateral swipe and was about to cut Sylk again when her blade was blocked by Maelstrom. Sylk was pale. His right arm hung at his side lifeless.
“Go with the others, boy,” I heard Maelstrom say.
Sylk retreated quietly, holding his arm in obvious pain. Mara rushed to his side to see what she could do. I sensed ra
ther than saw these things. My awareness was nowhere and everywhere at once.
FRIENDS
“LET US DANCE,” I heard myself say. It was my voice and wasn’t at the same time.
“It has been some time since we last danced, widow,” I said.
Mariko’s eyes opened in surprise.
“How do you know that name?”
I heard myself laughing.
“You are a grain in the sands of time compared to me, little girl.”
Mariko’s eyes narrowed and she took a step back. “Tell me who you are now!”
“You do not need to know that information.”
Mariko lunged faster than I thought possible, stepping to the right. My left hand shot out and grabbed Mariko’s sword hand.
“I was ancient when you were still being forged,” I heard Maelstrom say. As I turned into Mariko, a blade appeared at the end of Maelstrom. I saw myself stab her once, twice and finally a third time. A look of peace came over her face as I gently eased her to the floor.
“Thank you, warrior. I have wandered these halls for far too long. Now finally, I can rest.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Nonsense. I would have done the same to you, given the chance.” I remained silent as she looked in my eyes as if searching for something. Her breathing was becoming labored and I could see she did not have much time left. She reached into her sash. For a moment I tensed, wary of some last attack. She laughed then began coughing. She motioned for me to draw closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Take this,” she said, handing me her fan.
“It is quite valuable and will bring you respect among my children.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you, warrior. The journey that lies before you is filled with death and sadness.”
I turned away to look at my friends, people who had sworn to protect me with their lives.
“You will lose them all one day.” I turned to her, shock and anger on my face.
She smiled knowingly. “When that happens, and it will, do not surrender to the weapon, do not become like me. Find another answer.”
Warriors of the Way-Pentalogy Page 16