Samurai Page 13

  Simon and Aldric had fought about it. “We can go off on our own,” Simon had argued, trying to keep his voice down. “We can find her without them.”

  “Leave them to fight alone?” Aldric responded. “How would you feel if they did that to us?”

  Simon had stammered, fumbling for an answer.

  “They could die in the attack, and we would have that on our conscience,” Aldric went on. “Alaythia would want us to measure up to their sense of honor. Can we agree?”

  It had struck Simon for the first time that his father was not going to act without his approval, and so they had agreed on how to answer Taro together.

  Aldric took the deal. Now he simmered beside Simon, but everyone knew they needed Sachiko and her magic to help find Alaythia. And if, as Aldric feared, the Ice Dragon was somehow involved in all this, the attack in Tokyo might lead them to Alaythia.

  So the Hunt went forward.

  Najikko, the Japanese Serpent, listened to the painful murmuring of the sleeping patients in his living room, and his Serpentine eyes closed in meditation. His silver, glistening chest swelled with energy, and his gold-armored muscles relaxed, as he felt himself quell the fire within.

  Equilibrium, he thought. Calm. Empty all wasteful emotion.

  Earlier, he had been upset by the insistent tapping of several spiders on his sterile steel table, and had been forced to crush them with his hands. The spider innards had stained his skin, and he’d been trying to get his long nails clean for hours, interrupting the more important mental business before him.

  Deep in concentration, he reached out and took hold of a scroll that lay on the table before him. The scroll had come from the treasures in the Black Dragon’s former lair in Peking; many Serpents had raided those quarters, but the Japanese Serpent had been first, and reaped the rewards. The spell on this scroll was highly valuable.

  There. It was coming to him. The final piece of sorcery was coming together in his mind, like a complex mathematical problem finally solved after months of labor.

  Let the Dragonhunters come, if they did.

  His weapon was nearly ready.

  The hospital was a forty-story highrise of sleek glass, brightly lit and draped with huge flags of the Murdikai Corporation symbol: two Serpents entwined on a staff, spitting fire. To Aldric, it was madness to attack something that so resembled a fortress; foolish to strike at a Dragon in its own den if there was another way. They could wait for an easier chance to strike, he told the Samurai, but no one listened. A plan is a plan.

  So here they were. Aldric and Simon were irritated to find themselves given only a backup role in the assault. They were shunted to the side, holed up on another highrise next to the hospital, watching from the top of a hotel as Key and the Samurai observed the Dragon’s lair from a nearby roof.

  Key held binoculars. His job was to confirm the Serpent was in its lair. With his own binoculars, Simon glanced over to check that Key was safe. The kid was still dressed in his school uniform. Taro had told him there’d be no need for armor, that he wouldn’t get that close to the Dragon.

  Right. And he talked about our arrogance, Simon thought resentfully. He turned and peered at the top floor of the hospital across the street.

  He saw what appeared to be an operating suite, but huge, and decorated and furnished like a home, though almost everything was made of brushed steel. Sleeping patients stirred in their beds, and now Simon could see, in the operating room’s center, a crouching, silver-gold shape, sitting with its back to the window, its tail rising and falling calmly, rhythmically.

  “It’s there,” said Simon, and Aldric took the binoculars to see for himself.

  The Thing had made a kind of private hospital in his penthouse apartment, a place where the homeless, no doubt, and people without families—patients he could quietly remove from the lower floors without much trouble—were kept in constant slumber. The Dragon could draw strength from their anguish, keeping them under his own watchful eye, away from nurses or anyone who might ease their pain.

  From the roof of an office building across the street from the hospital, the Samurai signaled with a flashlight that they were ready. They had been calming themselves, their heads bent in meditation. Before they had headed to Tokyo, Key had remarked that Taro could never be brought out of a meditative trance once he entered it. His focus was that sharp. Aldric found the whole thing ludicrous, and he was eager to see the Samurai taking action.

  Simon and Aldric raised their crossbows. “We should be in this,” grumbled Aldric, watching as the Samurai fired grappling hooks into the hospital building, and flew over to it, their bodies nothing more than dark forms in the night.

  They were like hawks, made out of darkness, hidden from glory.

  Simon could see Sachiko and Key watching from their vantage point. Sachiko was in a dark pantsuit and black coat that concealed her tight-fitting armor, but Key looked painfully vulnerable.

  Simon turned back to keep his sight on the Tokyo Dragon.

  But the Dragon was gone.

  It wasn’t in its place anymore.

  Frantic, Simon moved the telescope sight on his crossbow all around, searching for the shape of the Dragon inside the penthouse. He let out a breath of panic, and Aldric responded with a grunt. They’d worked together long enough; Simon knew what he meant, quiet, not a word, stay on task.

  The Samurai had swooped toward the hospital, one by one, zipping across their cables over the street, their hands clutched to speeding devices on the lines. They landed in silence, and clawed up onto the roof. The penthouse lay before them.

  Simon could still see no sign of the Serpent.

  Desperately, he wanted to warn Taro, but if he broke the radio silence, it might be heard by the Serpent in the penthouse.

  Simon and Aldric stood poised, waiting for a target. Where was he?

  The assault was in motion. In the Samurai went, loping through the rooftop doorway. It looked like Akira was first, guarding Taro’s entry. Lastly, Simon could see the giant Mamoru step in, immediately moving to help patients, who stretched out their hands to him, once he lowered the helmet visor so they could see his face. For an instant, Simon was jolted by Mamoru’s concern for them, and felt a stab of fear, thinking the big man looked extremely vulnerable to attack.

  The others were swarming the operating suite, but Simon could not get a fix on the Serpent. His stomach burned with anxiety.

  “This is crazy. If he’s gone invisible…” worried Simon aloud. “They won’t see him.”

  “I can’t believe I agreed to this—” Aldric said, an edge of fear in his voice.

  Suddenly, Simon saw a flash in his scope. Something fell from the ceiling onto Mamoru. Something was there.

  Simon tried desperately for a better view.

  His scope found Mamoru. The Serpent had caught him.

  It threw him about, its silver-gold skin flashing in the light.

  Simon stared in horror. “Holy…”

  “Quiet.” Aldric was fixing for a shot.

  Taro had turned, realizing what was happening, and leapt toward the Serpent, slashing at the beast. Mamoru shouted in pain, and Taro buried his blade in the metallic Creature, once, twice, and again. Then Simon heard a click, an arrow spitting forth. Aldric had fired a shot. The arrow whisked over the street. Hit the Serpent. It reared up. Its eye filled Simon’s scope. It was furious.

  Simon fired.

  Click. Hiss. The arrow launched.

  “Aaaaaaahh!”

  It smacked into Taro’s armor just as the Dragon ducked its head.

  “No…no, no…” said Simon.

  “No…no! No!” said Aldric.

  Taro howled, grabbing the bolt that had struck through to his arm.

  Aldric cursed and aimed for the Dragon again, as the other Samurai—who had been searching the penthouse—rushed back in, striking by sword, to protect Taro.

  The Serpent knocked into Taro and leapt up again to the ceiling, latching
on supernaturally, crying out angrily and hissing. The Samurai pulled loose their pistols and began blasting up at the Creature—the room a shock of white muzzle flashes—but it would not be vanquished. It speedily clawed on all fours across the ceiling, slipping past a modern, angular steel chandelier, and finally tumbled behind a comatose man’s bed.

  “He hides behind innocent people…” growled Aldric.

  “Get him, get him,” Simon murmured helplessly.

  But then something occurred to him.

  His vision was being blocked by an irritating horde of moths, fluttering in his way. Too many of them to be a coincidence. And Simon knew this doesn’t happen when the Creature is far from you. This kind of effect happens when a Dragon is close, nearly upon you…

  Simon looked around, trying to figure out where the beast was….

  Then his eyes found Key on the rooftop next door. Something was rippling in the air, a mirage, forming behind Key.

  It wasn’t in the hospital—the Dragon had slipped invisibly to the roof!

  “Dad!”

  Simon watched through the scope of his crossbow as Key was pulled back by the Dragon taking form, coming from behind to snatch the boy by the neck. Sachiko was thrown down as the Serpent moved back against the wall, trying to figure out its next move.

  Its disguising magic fell away, and all could see the beast for what it was.

  Aldric fired a shot, and the arrow sliced the wall near the Serpent’s head.

  It hissed and barked in the night.

  Simon waited for his shot, his heart pounding. Key could die.

  He fired.

  The bolt went whishing past the Dragon and the boy, and soared off into the darkness; useless, wasted.

  But Key would not die this night—Sachiko rose and began slashing at the Serpent with metal gauntlets, studded with silver spikes that whirred and clicked and spun. The motorized spikes could not cut the Dragon’s armor, but the attack was so shocking it caused him to fall back.

  His hold on Key let up just enough for Key to kick himself free, and as the Dragon lunged for him again, the creature was nailed by a barrage of arrow-fire from the Samurai across the street.

  Rit—rit—rit—rit—! A dozen arrows expertly sliced the air and jabbed into the Serpent, who recoiled against the wall, with nowhere to run.

  Taro was shouting something in Japanese, threatening the beast.

  Sachiko pulled her son out of the way, and drew her own sword. To Simon’s surprise, Sachiko began attacking, driving the Serpent away from Key.

  She was calling something out, a spell of sorts, as her sword clanged against the Serpent’s armor. Suddenly there seemed to be half a dozen more of her—six different Sachikos, attacking the Dragon by sword in the night!

  The Serpent seemed stunned, falling back near the ledge. The images of Sachiko were illusions—striking but causing no harm. Still, the Dragon couldn’t get a fix on which was the real thing, as Sachiko kept moving, her sword hacking at him fiercely.

  Aldric leapt to the other building. Simon knew his legs weren’t as strong, but in his adrenaline rush, he let go of logic and made the jump right behind Aldric. The two Knights landed on the rooftop just as the Japanese Serpent gave a tremendous roar. Throwing out its arms in a spinning motion, leaping into the air, it sent out a wave of light in a wide circle, forcing all of the Sachiko images to fall back to the ground and over the ledge.

  Sachiko herself cried out, as her illusions withered and wisped away, destroyed in a painful flash.

  Her son threw himself over her, and Aldric pulled his sword, its gleam catching the Serpent’s attention.

  “You’ve found each other,” hissed the Serpent hatefully. “Knight and Samurai. The two worlds united.”

  “Leave the boy,” warned Aldric.

  “And you’ll spare my life?” The Dragon tilted its spikey crowned head. “This one dies, as do you all.”

  “I don’t fear your fire,” said Aldric. Simon knew the tactic. A Dragon spends all his fire at close range, and a blow to its neck will send the flames rolling back inside the beast.

  “You shall see my fire’s strength,” threatened the Dragon. “But I shall choose the time—not you.”

  It leapt from the building and began clawing its way down the outside of the highrise, from hopelessly high up, the busy street of ant-sized lights speeding down below, so far beneath him it made Simon sick. The Dragon did not fly; it was wingless, with wide blades where wings should be, but it went down the sleek glass building in great leaping arcs with shocking speed.

  Simon turned to Key, and Sachiko looked up at him, “Watch my son,” she said, and without warning, she dived over the ledge, soaring down toward the Dragon.

  She had jumped off the building with no protection whatsoever.

  Simon gasped. He’d never seen such courage in his life. His heart flew into his throat. He wanted to scream.

  She flew down the side of the building, down the grid of lights, diving like an Olympic athlete, hands in a sharp point, and flew downward, downward, and slammed into the Creature.

  Windows shattered, and the two tumbled over each other, falling down through darkness and light, somersaulting in the air, together in a snarl of fangs and blades, until at last they hit onto a ledge at the middle of the building.

  Aldric gasped, looking for a way down. Suddenly, the Samurai unhooked their cables from the penthouse across the way, and all of them swung back toward the Dragon. They were swooping over the street, as their lines hurtled them toward the Dragon and Sachiko. They swarmed across and down the side of the building like wasps, as Sachiko slashed at the Dragon with her whirring gloves.

  Aldric had a moment of hesitation; he seemed to be in awe of their speed. Then the Knight grabbed one of the Samurai’s lines, and began climbing down himself.

  Hanging on the same line, Taro looked up at him. “NO!” he cried. “It can’t handle your weight!”

  Too late. The line’s hook started cracking on its mount, and Simon and Key ran to get hold of it, but too late.

  “Oh, no!” they shouted at the same time.

  Cut loose, Taro and Aldric tumbled down, falling past Sachiko and the embattled Dragon, landing on a balcony just below them.

  “What wonders I could do with that face,” Aldric heard the Dragon say, his claw brushing Sachiko’s cheek.

  Sachiko leapt backward, tossing herself to a nearby balcony, like a film running in reverse. Simon just stared.

  Suddenly—with Sachiko out of the way—the Serpent began taking bullet fire from the Samurai clinging to the side of the building. At the same time, directly below the Dragon, Aldric was firing silver darts from the mini-crossbow guns on his wrists. Bullets and darts were clanging against the building, everyone trying to avoid friendly fire. Taro threw several silver throwing stars that lodged in the Serpent’s hide, but there was still no bringing down the beast.

  Fearsomely silent, the Dragon shattered his way into the office building, escaping them. In a heartbeat, all of the Samurai and Sachiko lunged after it. Aldric looked up at Simon, but after checking for the boys’ safety, he, too, barreled in.

  Up high on the building, Simon grabbed Key and pulled him along. “Come on.”

  “We are not to interfere,” said Key. “We have a duty to stay alive. We’ll be going right into the fight—”

  “Into the kill, you mean,” said Simon—optimistically—and he dragged Key toward a service door to pursue the Dragon.

  Chapter 21

  BEWARE OF FALLING SERPENTS

  THE JAPANESE SERPENT TUMBLED through glass into the office building, where a shocked late-night worker stared up at him from a desk covered in coffee cups.

  At first, the Dragon looked like a well-dressed young citizen who had somehow fallen out of the sky and through his window. But as the worker watched, the intruder took a quick moment to catch his breath, and suddenly arrows began to appear on his body. The Serpent’s cloaking magic was wearing thin from
pain, his true form quickly becoming visible: a full-fledged Dragon, silver and gold, and armored with natural plating, arrows sticking out of its arms, its back, its side.

  Just as abruptly, a group of black-clad Samurai tore through the shattered glass wall, along with a woman armed with a set of mechanical claws that whirred with little spinning daggers, jutting out from all angles.

  The office worker nearly fainted as he saw the Serpent back away from the human attackers, and clutch its arms over its chest. It chanted in a half-Japanese nonsensical speech, an insane language, but its words seemed to cause the room to quake.

  Shards of glass on the floor rose up and swirled into little tornadoes that began cutting at the human soldiers. But the woman threw out her arm—hissing in speech as fantastically strange as the Serpent’s—and the glass shards twirling viciously around the room came together and formed into the vague shapes of men.

  The jagged, glass-shard figures began to take swings at the Dragon, slashing at his armor. The Dragon threw them back with some kind of magic, but two of them flung themselves upon its back, shattering and stabbing tiny shards into its thick hide.

  Furious, the Dragon roared, and rushed the innocent office worker, throwing him back toward the glass men. The glass figures collapsed around the worker, giving no serious cuts. But getting the man out of harm’s way slowed the warriors down.

  Aldric had joined them from behind, slipping on the glass as he entered through the cracked exterior wall, the way they’d all gotten in. Now he saw his target escaping.

  The Serpent rampaged through empty offices, knocking through cheap cubicle walls in the blue dimness of fluorescent lights, as Aldric and the Samurai pursued it, firing whenever they could get a shot.

  Taking the lead, Aldric sent a bolt directly into an unprotected spot on its wounded back, and the Dragon wailed, racing on its thin Serpentine legs—one real, one made of metal—clattering over glass and plastic as it threw down anything in its path.

  The wound immediately began leaking fireblood in a dazzling spray of light, streaming from the back of the Creature.