The Lost Sword

by Pitt, Darrell

  A figure appeared from some nearby trees. Jack gasped as a woman crossed the lawn towards them.

  ‘Good morning,’ Dr Livanov said. ‘It seems we meet again.’

  ‘You!’ Jack said. ‘You’re working with Fujita!’

  ‘Better to be on the winning side than the alternative.’

  ‘I knew a woman was responsible for the sabotage at Mizu City,’ Mr Doyle said, turning to Jack. ‘You remember the rectangular bloodstain at Fingal Wilde’s murder? It was a woman’s heel.’

  ‘Very clever,’ Livanov said.

  ‘I assume you were also responsible for the explosion on board the Katsu, and the other deaths.’

  ‘Guilty as charged,’ Livanov said. ‘I have sweated and toiled my entire life in the name of science, and you know what it has gotten me? Nothing!’

  ‘I thought you loved science,’ Jack said.

  ‘I did,’ she said, ‘for many years. And then I saw friends and family buying big houses and private airships, while I had nothing. I lived in a small flat without heating and with little food. Now all that will change.’

  ‘What has Fujita promised you?’

  ‘My own tower in the heart of Tokyo and so much money I could never live long enough to spend it all.’ She paused. ‘But we’re not here to speak about me.’

  She handed an envelope to Mr Doyle. He opened it to reveal a strand of thick red hair.

  ‘Where is Scarlet?’

  ‘Safe,’ Livanov said. ‘For now.’

  ‘What does Fujita want in return?’

  ‘You know what he wants.’

  ‘The Kusanagi sword? We don’t have it.’

  ‘But he believes you can find it. When he picked up Jack and Scarlet on the ocean floor, he didn’t have time to question their reason for being there. Only later did he realise they were not looking for him. They were seeking the sword.’

  ‘So why doesn’t he try to find it?’

  ‘Fujita needs to keep a low profile for now. The police have been asking unfortunate questions.’

  ‘Even if we could produce the sword,’ Mr Doyle said, ‘it’s just an artefact. A lump of metal.’

  Livanov shrugged. ‘You and I are people of science,’ she said. ‘Fujita still believes in fairy tales and magical swords. What he wants, he gets.’

  ‘You will both pay for your crimes!’

  ‘That’s unlikely. You have forty-eight hours to retrieve the sword, and bring it to Fujita’s penthouse.’

  ‘And if we can’t locate it?’

  ‘That would be unfortunate.’

  Jack took a step towards the woman, but Mr Doyle restrained him as she calmly walked away and disappeared among trees.

  He turned to Mr Doyle. ‘What are we going to do? We don’t have the sword.’

  ‘I know.’

  Jack’s mind churned. ‘There is something we can do,’ he said. ‘We have a map showing its location. I can find it.’

  ‘But you already searched the ocean floor.’

  ‘No,’ Jack said. ‘When I first saw the sword, it was glowing on the bottom. Later, I mistook light reflecting off Fujita’s submarine base for the sword. They were two different things. The sword is still there.’

  Leaving the Imperial Palace, they were amazed to see Edgar and Hiro waiting on the street for them.

  ‘What do you want?’ Mr Doyle asked Edgar, scowling.

  ‘I want to help,’ Edgar replied.

  ‘As I do,’ Hiro added.

  Mr Doyle grudgingly explained what had happened.

  ‘I never trusted that Livanov woman,’ Edgar said. ‘Her perfume was horrendous, as if someone had drained a gutter and bottled it.’ He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Jack is right about the sword: recovering it is the only way to satisfy Fujita and save Scarlet.’

  ‘But surely the police—’ Mr Doyle started.

  ‘This isn’t England, Ignatius. It would take days—or weeks—to get a warrant to search his tower, and Scarlet will be long gone by then.’

  Mr Doyle sighed. ‘I can’t believe we have to put our faith in finding an imaginary sword,’ he said.

  ‘How do you know it’s imaginary?’

  ‘Because there’s no such thing as magic.’

  ‘Ignatius, do you remember when I first moved into your house? When our parents were married?’

  ‘How could I forget?’

  ‘You may think that was a terrible time for you, but it was for me also. After my father died, I thought I could not go on.’ Edgar fixed Mr Doyle with a steely glance. ‘But then I met you and your father, and it changed my life. I was given hope. It can’t be measured, quantified or proven, and yet we all live with it every day of our lives.’

  Thoughtfully, Mr Doyle nodded.

  Hiro took them to the roof of a nearby building where he had a dragonfly ready. Soon, they had left the city behind and were arcing across the ocean towards Mizu Dock.

  ‘I’ll need a jellysuit to get to the bottom,’ Jack said.

  ‘Never fear,’ Edgar said, pulling open a trunk. ‘We have two.’

  ‘Where—’

  ‘They’re your suits. I found them in the wreckage of Fujita’s dragon.’

  ‘You stole them.’

  ‘Not at all. I found them.’

  Reaching the dock, Edgar and Hiro carried the trunk inside.

  ‘Be careful,’ Mr Doyle told Jack. ‘If you don’t have any success, return to the surface and we’ll formulate another plan.’

  Hiro shook Jack’s hand. ‘There is an old saying,’ he said. ‘Beware the hungry sea. It has an endless appetite.’

  ‘I’ll watch my step.’

  Slipping on the jellysuit, he climbed into the water. The others wished him good luck and he started down.

  From here on, Jack thought, I’m on my own.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Jack followed the chain towards the ocean floor.

  He remembered Hiro’s words: Beware the hungry sea. It has an endless appetite.

  Stopping only once, he turned, looking back at the dock, now only a tiny square floating in the ocean.

  I have never been this alone before.

  He thought of his parents as he continued downwards. Never in their wildest dreams would they have imagined he would swim to the bottom of the ocean. His father was a poor swimmer, and his mother couldn’t swim at all.

  Finally he sighted the underwater city and found the spot where he had seen the glow. His eyes swept the bottom, but there was no sign of it.

  Maybe the submarine churned up the sand.

  Jack swam in the direction where he thought it was, but only succeeded in drawing perilously close to Fujita’s underwater city.

  A huge section of the ocean floor had been disturbed. What happened here? Then he realised: this was where an airlock had opened to release the dragon. The sand had been completely upturned. What if th
e sword had been buried forever?

  He was beginning to feel panicky until he spotted something to his left, an odd shape in a sandy hollow. A sunken ship? Swimming over, he realised it was very ancient, the bow reduced to skeleton ribbing, the rear covered in sand.

  Entering the wreck, Jack searched the gloom for signs of the glowing sword, but it was empty. Anything it had held had been long since claimed by the sea. As he headed towards the stern, he spotted a school of fish darting away in panic, and an octopus disappeared between some decking.

  A shadow moved overhead, a ten-foot fish.

  That’s no fish, Jack realised. That’s a shark.

  He stayed completely motionless. A book he’d read said sharks had excellent vision, but if he remained still, it wouldn’t detect him. After it had disappeared into the distance, Jack relaxed, his foot hitting against something. A piece of metal.

  Picking it up, he saw instantly that it wasn’t the sword, just a piece of bracing from the ship. Jack cursed silently to himself.

  It might take years to find—

  Wham!

  The shark slammed into him from behind, throwing him through the hull, the bracing still in his hand. He swung about desperately, trying to hit the shark, but the metal was knocked away.

  Bazookas!

  The jellysuit had saved his life, but the shark had damaged it. Already, a large section was starting to turn purple. If the suit failed down here, the water pressure would crush him in seconds.

  The shark turned, making a wide circle around Jack. The city was about a mile away. He had to return to the diving chain if he stood any chance of surviving, but he had to deal with the shark first.

  What else did that book say about sharks? If attacked, aim for the face, eyes or gills, which had all seemed very reasonable while curled up in the library at Bee Street. Doing it in real life was far more difficult.

  The shark came at him like a missile. Jack stabbed at the creature, striking a glancing blow as it spun him around. While the shark disappeared behind the hull, Jack struggled to his feet again. The jellysuit was now mauve in three spots.

  I’m finished if it attacks again.

  Appearing from behind a rock ledge, the shark rounded the wreck. Jack stabbed at its left eye, following up with a second blow to its gills.

  The shark recoiled in pain. Jack had dealt it a painful blow, extinguishing all thoughts of using him as a meal, and it shot away.

  Jack realised he was finding it hard to breathe, but not from fear. The suit was now bruised purple in half-a-dozen places.

  I’ve got to get out of here—now!

  He swam back towards Mizu City while trying to slow his heart rate and keep his breathing calm. Stress would only increase his blood circulation and need for oxygen.

  At last he reached the diving bell, gripped the metal chain and glanced back one final time at the ocean floor. A few hundred feet away, nestled between sand banks, was a glowing object. Jack recognised it immediately.

  He slowly crossed the sea floor to find a four-foot long case.

  This is it, Jack thought. This is the Kusanagi sword.

  Made from silver, the case had tarnished over the years, but still had Japanese lettering etched onto the surface.

  Easing it from the sand, Jack couldn’t find an opening, but at least it had a handle.

  Jack swam back to the diving chain, dragging the case behind him. The chain above seemed to go on forever. Grabbing a piece of seaweed, Jack tied the case around his waist and started up.

  This will take ages, he thought. But I can’t focus on that. I’ve got to concentrate on Scarlet.

  He kept swimming, but had only covered a short distance when a wave of dizziness overcame him. The bruising on the jellysuit had worsened, turning black in several places.

  The creature was dying.

  Jack couldn’t help but feel sad. Hardy had called it a symbiotic relationship, but it had really all been one-way. What had Jack done for this strange life form? It had saved his life numerous times, and now it was dying.

  Just a little further, he thought. Please.

  He continued up the side of the chain. The case was a dead weight with no streamlining to make it easier to move through the water. He may as well have been towing a sledgehammer.

  How much further?

  His breath was laboured now, as if he’d run a marathon.

  What had Hiro said to him about Scarlet?

  She is not alone, even now, because you are thinking of her. Nor are you alone. She is with you, always.

  Gripping the chain, Jack used it to climb up like a monkey, his vision blurring. Most of the suit had turned black in its last moments of life.

  I can’t do it, he thought. I’m not going to make it.

  But then a huge shape appeared next to him. For one terrifying moment, Jack thought the shark had returned, but the massive bulk didn’t attack. Through hazy vision, he realised it was the whale he and Scarlet had used to tow the dome to the surface. Mr Doyle had said it had gone missing after saving them.

  The whale gently bumped him, like a dog nudging a child. Jack managed to cling on as the creature lifted its head and headed towards the surface.

  The water broke and churned, and then Jack was bathed in sunlight. He was only dimly aware of Mr Doyle and the others as they dragged the jellysuit from him. All he could focus on was breathing, and the warmth of the sun.

  His senses only fully returned when he saw Mr Doyle about to push the dying jellysuit over the edge of the dock.

  ‘No,’ Jack choked, vomiting up water.

  ‘I’m afraid the creature’s finished,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Saying a silent prayer, Jack gave the jellyfish one final embrace before rolling it over the side of the dock. It splashed into the water, and rapidly disappeared, consigned forever to the hungry sea.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  It took Jack a minute to realise Edgar was cheering. Slowly rising to his feet, Jack watched the man in amazement as he literally danced for joy. Mr Doyle shook his head sadly. Hiro just stared.

  ‘We’ve done it! No!’ Edgar said, pointing at Jack. ‘You did it! Jack, you’ve solved one of civilisation’s greatest mysteries.’

  ‘Don’t count your chickens yet,’ Mr Doyle warned. ‘We don’t know what’s in that case.’

  ‘What else can it be?’ Edgar asked. ‘It must be the sword.’

  Hiro tried the latches. ‘These are difficult to move,’ he said. ‘I will need a knife.’

  Going through his pockets, Mr Doyle pulled out a lump of cheese, a teddy bear, three onions and a brass elephant before producing a penknife.

  Hiro applied it to the latches. After a minute, he gave a satisfied grunt.

  ‘I have it,’ he said.

  They grouped around as he levered up one latch, and then the other.

  ‘This is it,’ Edgar said. ‘History in the making.’

  Hiro raised the lid.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘That’s
unfortunate.’

  The interior of the box was in good condition, lined with some kind of wood. An indentation showed where the sword had lain, but it was no longer there. All that remained was its handle.

  Hiro gently lifted the handle from the box. ‘This is the tsuka—the hilt—of the sword,’ he said. ‘But the rest is gone.’

  ‘Where?’ Edgar asked, stupidly. ‘I mean...why isn’t it here?’

  The handle was slightly curved and wrapped in some kind of skin, with a semi-circular guard to protect the swordsman’s hand.

  ‘This is shark skin,’ Hiro said, fingering the skin. ‘And the guard is of the highest quality. This is the Kusanagi sword.’

  ‘But the blade...’ Edgar’s voice trailed off.

  ‘Gone,’ Mr Doyle said, sighing. ‘Lost to history hundreds of years ago. I doubt it’ll ever be found. But that’s not the worst of our problems.’

  Jack swallowed. ‘Fujita won’t accept this?’

  ‘A handle? I doubt it,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘We’ll need another plan. Edgar?’

  Edgar, still staring in dismay at the handle, roused himself. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Another plan. We still need to save Scarlet.’

  ‘We could attack the tower,’ Hiro said, almost to himself. ‘But our chances of success would be small.’

  ‘Fujita only has to give the word,’ Edgar said, ‘and Scarlet will be killed.’

  ‘If she hasn’t been already,’ Jack said, sadly.

  ‘She’s alive. Fujita is a businessman. I suspect he is more than happy to exchange her for the sword.’

  ‘But we don’t have a sword,’ Jack said. ‘We have a handle.’

  ‘We wouldn’t insert another blade into it?’ Mr Doyle suggested.

  ‘Not into this,’ Hiro said, examining it closely. ‘It would take a craftsman weeks to create the blade.’

  ‘And we don’t have weeks,’ Edgar said. ‘We need to hand him the Kusanagi sword.’ He frowned. ‘Or something that looks very much like it.’