Warriors of the Way-Pentalogy

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Wrong?” she asked. “You mean besides you begging for your death and two kindred Watchers attacking us?”

  “Kindred Watchers?” I asked. “I don’t remember them. Tell me.”

  “I’m surprised you can recall anything about the ritual,” she said. “They are smaller than the ones we have faced, powerful and fast. One of them got past me and entered the ritual circle.”

  “Did it do anything odd in the circle?” I asked. “Did it disrupt the ritual?”

  “It died in the circle,” she said quietly. “It almost killed you and Ono, but I stopped it.”

  “And the second one?”

  “I killed that one before it could get close,” she said, concern in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “The bond between me and the weapon,” I said. “It’s corrupted somehow.”

  “What do you mean, corrupted?”

  “At the deepest part of the bond where my chi and the energy of the weapon blend, there is a corruption,” I said.

  “What does that mean?” she asked. “Can you remove it?”

  “It means he is becoming like this place,” said Nina, looking around the plane.

  That would be an apt description. The corruption I saw in the bond reminded me of the null plane. It was a presence of nothingness. It made sense. Is that why the Watch appeared to me here in this plane?

  “I can’t remove it,” I said. “The bond is too strong. Shadowstrike is killing me.”

  FIFTEEN

  SMOKE KNEW THE White Lotus would be after him. It was why he chose this location. Disobeying a direct order from Wheel was a death sentence no matter how he disguised it. It was only a matter of time before they located him. He would face them on his terms. The invitation was a transparent ploy.

  Wheel is consolidating power and removing obstacles. I must find the third focus.

  He sat in the rear of a quiet restaurant as he let his thoughts race. A large man sat down in the chair across from him. The suit he wore did nothing to hide the muscular frame beneath it. The man looked at Smoke and then placed his hands on the table. A scar, a vivid reminder of an error in judgment, ran across the man’s face.

  “Hello Samadhi,” said the large man. “My master is disappointed you refused his invitation.”

  “Perth,” said Smoke, not taking his eyes off the menu. “Have you come to have lunch with me?”

  Perth placed a large blade on the table. It was white and covered with glyphs, and gave off a faint vibration as it sat on the table.

  “The White Lotus, then,” said Smoke. “What of the Samadhi who did accept the invitation? Do they all still breathe?”

  “Those who joined the master will be rewarded,” said Perth.

  “And the rest?”

  Perth looked down at the blade.

  “Eliminating the competition,” said Smoke. “Your master won’t succeed, you know.”

  “He already has,” said Perth as he made a subtle gesture. “I am just here to make sure every detail is taken care of.”

  Smoke looked around the restaurant and now noticed several other well-dressed men at some of the tables close to his. He counted four of them.

  “I was instructed to bring you last,” said Perth. “Are you going to tell me where your family is or do I have to extract that from you?”

  Smoke looked hard at Perth and then smiled. “You are never going to get that information from me, boy,” he said as the table shattered in front of him.

  Perth and the White Lotus around him leaped back and away from Smoke.

  “Wheel only sent a hand?” asked Smoke. “I’m insulted.” The area around him began to fill with a thick smoke, obscuring vision. One of the White Lotus on his left attacked, lunging with his blade. Smoke stepped inside the attack and brought his hand up, crushing the larynx of his attacker. The man fell to the ground, holding his throat for several seconds before he died. Smoke took a few steps back and disappeared into the haze that now filled the restaurant.

  “Step back,” said Perth. “Avoid the smoke.”

  “This isn’t smoke, Perth,” said Smoke as he caught another of the Lotus at the edge of the mist and dragged him in. The sound of screaming could be heard as Smoke broke bones. Seconds later the scream was cut short. “This is a killing field.”

  Perth made a gesture and created a blast of air. Chairs and tables flew in every direction, but the smoke remained in place.

  “You still don’t understand, Perth,” said Smoke. “Didn’t your master tell you about my discipline?”

  Perth and the remaining two Lotus backed away from the unnatural smoke. A tendril of fog shot out and caught another Lotus, enveloping him and dragging him back into the rear of the restaurant. More screams and then silence. Laughter, low at first, and then rising in pitch filled the area.

  “There is nowhere to hide,” whispered Smoke. “You can’t hit what you can’t touch. You can’t kill what you can’t catch.”

  The last Lotus disappeared from view, filling the space with more screams and then silence. Perth put his hands together and spoke under his breath. A glow surrounded him and burned through the smoke that was slowly approaching him.

  “If you surrender now, I promise your death, and that of your family, will be swift, Samadhi,” said Perth. “Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

  Smoke closed the distance, but Perth was ready. He sidestepped, avoiding several tendrils, and placed both hands on the Samadhi’s chest, sending him back. The area where he hit him gave off a dull orange glow.

  “Burning palms,” said Smoke, coughing. “Didn’t think anyone remembered them.”

  “My master did inform me about your discipline, Samadhi, and he prepared me,” said Perth. “My companions were an expendable distraction.” He executed another gesture and the dull orange glow flared to a bright orange.

  Smoke screamed as he collapsed. The air in the restaurant cleared. On the floor, he tried to extinguish the burning on his chest. The fire of the burning palms had spread and covered his entire chest with a viscous gelatin that resembled napalm.

  “Now let’s discuss the whereabouts of your family, Samadhi,” said Perth as he stepped closer.

  SIXTEEN

  SYLK EXITED THE portal and saw the glyphs erased from the doorway. He examined the door and placed a hand on the wall. The glyphs that should have activated were gone.

  “Stay back,” he said to Samir and Mara. “I don’t know if he is still in here, but that doesn’t look good,” he said as he pointed to the area on the wall where the missing glyphs once had been.

  He placed his hand on the door and unlocked it. He waited a moment before opening it and entering. Once inside, he gestured for the others to enter with him.

  “Who was in here?” asked Samir. “What is this place?”

  “This is a safe space and, until recently, I thought it was very difficult to find,” said Sylk. “It would seem my most recent guest has left.”

  “And that was?” asked Samir.

  “The Harbinger,” said Sylk as he made his way from room to room.

  “The Harbinger was here?” said Samir. “Why was he here? Was he injured?”

  “I sought to offer him some solace from his life if only for a short time,” answered Sylk. “It seems he was discovered and my glyphs undone.”

  “Undone?” asked Samir.

  “No matter,” said Sylk. “We are here to access the South Watch and speak to the Keeper. I just need some items first to facilitate our trip to the Records.”

  Sylk moved to the bedroom and left Mara and Samir in the large living space. They sat in one of the large lounges as they waited.

  “I don’t like the idea of going to the Records, but I understand the need,” said Samir. “If I can look at those ancient texts even for a moment…the things we could learn.”

  “I belong at his side,” said Mara. “It doesn’t matter where he goes, I will be there.”

  Samir nodded. “This
interstice he speaks about…the concept is unlike anything I have ever heard, but the theory is sound.”

  “It is sound, Samir,” said Sylk from behind him. “I just don’t know if it will work in my altered condition.”

  Startled, Samir jumped as he heard Sylk’s voice from behind him. Sylk shimmered into view as he came around the lounge to stand before them. He was dressed in a thick black robe covered in glyphs. The hood of the robe obscured his face. Silver brocade ran along the entire edge of the robe.

  “That is an interesting robe,” said Samir as he stood to examine it closer. “It is patterned after the Samadhi robes. These glyphs, from what I can determine, confuse your energy signature, yes?”

  “They allow the wearer to diffuse his energy signature, yes.”

  Samir rubbed his chin in thought. “That would render you effectively invisible,” he said.

  “Yes, but unfortunately I only have one of these robes,” said Sylk. “Which means—”

  “Which means we will have to remain in the interstice or risk being discovered,” said Samir. “Is this possible? How long can we remain in the interstice?”

  “Not very long,” answered Sylk. “It’s not designed to sustain long-term occupancy. It serves as a passage and then is designed to collapse.”

  “Can we extend its duration?” asked Mara.

  “Yes, Samir can once I give him the glyph, but there is a complication,” said Sylk.

  “By extending the duration of the interstice, we will no longer be invisible to Raja,” said Samir. “Once I use the glyph it will alert him to our presence.”

  “If he discovers you, I don’t know what his response will be, but in light of the fact that he attacked you, I am certain it will not be pleasant,” said Sylk.

  “How long do we have before we need to use the glyph?” asked Mara. “How long does the passage stay intact?”

  “Thirty minutes and then it’s gone,” said Sylk. “I don’t know if that will be enough time to recover the text and make it back to you.”

  “Recover the text?” asked Samir. “What do you mean, recover the text? You told Lady Ono…I thought I was going to the text to…You’re going to steal a text from the Records?”

  “I told her what she needed to hear, but she knows the truth,” said Sylk after a moment. “This is the only way.” “It’s too dangerous to take you in and I have no way of cloaking either of you. Your only other option is to remain here.”

  “I am going,” said Mara. “Where you go, I go.”

  Samir remained pensive for a few seconds. “I suppose we can return the text when we are finished with it if the Records are restored,” he said. “This is another mystery. Who could influence the Records to that magnitude?”

  “I only know of one person with that much power,” said Sylk. “And he is in the forgotten planes.”

  “I will accompany you,” said Samir. “It appears you need me to complete this task.”

  Sylk nodded. “First we see the Keeper, then the Records,” he said as he opened a portal.

  The lines in his arm glowed bright silver as the portal formed and he felt a tug, which forced him to take a step forward into the portal.

  “Master?” asked Mara, alarm in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “The portal,” said Sylk. “It’s acting strangely. Something seems to be happening on the plane.”

  The portal grew in size and transformed into a vortex, dragging them all in. Furniture winked out of sight as the vortex claimed it. It grew stronger by the second.

  “I can’t close it!” yelled Sylk. “Hold on!”

  There was nothing to hold on to as the vortex grew in size and swallowed them.

  SEVENTEEN

  THE SHADOW OF Lucius stood at the edge of a still lake and looked out into the water. His long gray hair, which was tied in a braid, was hanging down his back. He stood barefoot in the grass at the edge of the lake and looked down. A forest of cherry blossoms in full bloom occupied the space behind him. He crouched down and peered deeper into the water as a robed figure approached.

  “It is time to abandon this plane,” said Lucius. “Alert the others. We will return and concentrate our efforts on the reformation of the bridge.”

  The robed figure bowed and disappeared. Lucius traced a glyph in the air before him. Around him, the ground became black as he siphoned the chi out of the plane. Behind him, the cherry blossoms withered and died, dropping their petals softly to the ground.

  Lucius stood and kept his gaze on the lake as the water receded and disappeared. All of the energy from the plane began to flow into him. Everywhere he looked, it became lifeless and devoid of energy. The chi of the plane suffused his body with power as a golden light erupted from him. He floated several feet from the ground as it, too, began to disintegrate and disappear. In the course of several minutes, everything in the plane was undone. He floated in the midst of a void, a beacon of light in the heart of darkness. He traced a glyph and opened a portal. Through the portal, he could see the large structure that kept his body prisoner.

  Soon every plane will be as pure as this one. Then I will establish what is rightfully mine and restore what was taken from me, he thought as he entered the portal and disappeared.

  EIGHTEEN

  “YOU NEED MY help with what?” said Raquel.

  Hiram looked at Raquel again before speaking.

  “Have you ever used a handcannon?” he asked. “One you have manifested from your guns?”

  Franca stood behind Hiram, her jaw set and arms crossed. She gave every indication she wanted to put a bullet in Hiram, but restrained herself.

  “Yes, why?” said Raquel. “Why is that important to you?”

  Hiram nodded as if checking off some mental list.

  “Have you ever heard of the White Lotus?” he asked.

  “The White what?” Raquel’s head spun for a moment. There’s a White Lotus? What the hell is going on?

  “Stop,” said Raquel. “Tell me who you are and where I am.”

  “My name is Hiram—”

  “Yeah, I got that part,” interrupted Raquel. “Hiram, leader of the Deadeyes. My question is who made you leader and why am I here, where ever here is?”

  Behind Hiram, Franca gave a small smile.

  “Tell her, Hiram,” said Franca. “Or should I?”

  “We have been watching you for some time now,” he said.

  “You have been watching me?” asked Raquel. “Why?”

  “You’re Arthur Cross’s daughter,” said Hiram, as if that were reason enough.

  “Do better,” said Raquel. “I don’t like being watched or spied on no matter who my father is.”

  “I realize how this will sound, but we have good reason to believe that the White Lotus will attack the hub plane within the month,” he said.

  “You mean the Black Lotus?” said Raquel.

  Hiram shook his head. “No, the White Lotus,” he said. “Your Black Lotus has been infiltrated and taken over by the White Lotus.”

  “Who heads this White Lotus?”

  “We have never seen him. We only know that he goes by the name of Wheel,” said Hiram. “Have you heard of him?

  Wheel again. This would explain how Monique was able to control the council.

  “I’ve heard the name,” said Raquel with an edge to her voice.

  “The White Lotus existed before the formation of the Black Lotus but they were exiled or killed for trying to wrest control from the council,” said Hiram. “That is when the Black Lotus was formed.”

  “Seems like they missed a few,” said Raquel. “So what do you want with me? I heard the Deadeyes were unstoppable, at least that’s what the stories say.”

  “They were,” said Hiram. “In Arthur Cross’s time the Deadeyes were feared across the planes.”

  “How many are there?” asked Raquel. “How many Deadeyes?”

  Hiram looked away for a moment and cleared his throat. Before he could say anything, Fra
nca stepped close to Raquel and spoke while holding up her fingers.

  “Three,” said Franca.

  “Tell me you mean three hundred or at least three dozen,” said Raquel.

  Franca shook her head and barked out a bitter laugh. “Three as in one, two, three,” she said, counting off her fingers as she spoke. “Three fools intent on ending their lives.”

  “We have had many successes,” said Hiram. “We were able to stop—”

  “You have been lucky,” interrupted Franca. “I know because I am the one who has stitched you up when you return from your escapades.”

  “At its height, the Deadeyes numbered no more than two hundred,” said Hiram. “Yet they were able to stop the planes from being destroyed during the purge.”

  “Five hundred,” said Franca, “is the number you are looking for.”

  “I’ve never heard that number,” said Hiram. “I think you are mistaken, Franca.”

  “That is your problem—you don’t listen,” said Franca. “There were two hundred public members, in addition to many sleepers and covert members who were never discovered. Five hundred is being conservative. Only Arthur knew the true numbers.”

  “We have to start again somewhere,” said Hiram. “Our sources have not failed us yet. The attack—”

  “Wake up, Hiram,” said Franca. “The Deadeyes were trained, battle-hardened men and women. When Cross disappeared, the Deadeyes went with him. He was the one who held us all together. What do you have now?”

  Hiram looked at Raquel. “We have her. She is his daughter,” said Hiram. “We can reorganize. Start a new era of Deadeyes.”

  “No, you don’t have me,” said Raquel. “This is not my fight. Besides, this is suicide. If the White Lotus has taken over the Black Lotus…four of us? Shoot me now and get it over with.”

  “If you join us I’m certain many of the older members would come back—right, Franca?”

  “No, Hiram,” said Franca. “It’s time to let this go. I don’t want to see you run to your death.”

  “You don’t understand,” said Hiram. “If my source is right, the White Lotus isn’t going to stop at the hub. That is just the beginning.”