Dew sparkled in the grass of the graveyard. Philip's gravestone sat silently, undisturbed by the faint, cold breeze blowing. Chirping and singing, little bush warblers and robins flitted about the forest and undergrowth. The short iron gate surrounding the graveyard stood twisted, as if the ground had shifted beneath the dark bars.
Cole stood silently at the gate, gazing at the name of his friend carved into the stone.
The last I saw of you, you and your sister were riding across a great field to Stiix. We told each other we might see each other again. I looked forward to that.
Because you were my friend. One of the only ones I had then. Now I will never see you again.
Could Philip see Cole where he was? Was he watching him? Cole bowed his head. When Day of the Departed comes again, I'll light a lantern for you. I will never forget you again.
He gripped one of the bars of the gate to steady himself. The more he thought of Philip, the more old memories returned; some of them fuzzy and silent images, but others were as vivid as what was happening now.
Tunnels. There were underground tunnels. Cole shut his eyes tight. They were trapped in those tunnels. It was raining, and the water was rising. Philip and Cole were separated from Liana and a fourth traveler. Philip had been wounded by some animal that had attacked them.
He could hear the water again. He could almost see the darkness in his head.
...Beside him, Philip breathed heavily and clutched his wounded shoulder. Cole couldn't see how bad the injury was in the dark, but from what he could tell from the painful gasps, it was pretty bad.
Cole glanced back to where the creature disappeared. "You remember that skeleton we found earlier? I think we know what attacked it now."
Philip chuckled bitterly. "That'll be us soon."
Cole whipped around and glared at him. "Would you quit talking about dying?! We are not going to die! There has to be a way out. There could be a hole in this wall, or a secret tunnel leading to safety, or we could find the river and let it carry us away!"
He froze. "We could find the river and let it carry us away," he repeated softly.
"Dude, what are you talking about?" Philip asked incredulously. "I thought you were trying to live, not drown sooner!"
"No, wait..." The wheels and gears turned rapidly in Cole's head. A corner of his mouth quirked up. "The river we saw... It must go somewhere, right? If it just stopped somewhere it would have flooded these tunnels long before we came along. So the river continues..." He couldn't help it; he began to smile. "And it could lead out of the mountain!"
He looked back up at Philip. It was too dark to tell for sure, but he could have sworn Philip was grinning.
"Wanna try it?" Cole asked.
"We're going to die if we stay, so we might as well try it, anyway."
"Let's go." The boys splashed away from the little cavern and entered one of the yawning tunnels, praying it would lead to the underground river. The gurgling water was rising up to their torsos; they had to move fast.
Hoping they wouldn't run into the predator again, they waded quickly down the corridor, trying to see through the stifling shadows. Behind him Cole could hear Philip gasping quietly in pain. It was a very long few minutes of trudging through the river, fighting the current threatening to drag them away into the dark river.
Of course, the river could just keep going underground where there's no air, and then we would... Cole tried not to think about what would happen if he and Philip got stuck in the underground river.
Finally the boys waded into the wide cavern where they found the river. The crack in the ceiling shone faint light into the cave, also letting in a torrent of rain. The black, churning rapids had risen up to the walls by this time, splashing water against the rocks. A current swirling deep to the right of Cole threatened to pull him away, and he grabbed a nearby boulder to steady himself. Now that he could see better, he turned to look at Philip.
Philip's left shoulder was mangled, his sleeve and arm torn and darkened in deep red. There was so much blood. Bile rose in Cole's throat, and he turned away, feeling sick.
Resisting the urge to retch, he pointed down to the right and shouted over the sound of crashing waves. "Over there!" Down at the foot of the stone wall, the black water swirled and churned strangely, like when someone unplugs the drain in a bathtub. It looked like the place where the river would usually run, but it was difficult to tell in the dim light.
The boys edged over cautiously, drawing closer to the turbulent waves. Cole stopped by a boulder sticking out, shielding him from the current. He looked at Philip in the eyes, trying not to look at his arm, and smiled grimly. Philip returned it with a good old grin, as if they weren't in mortal danger.
"Ready?" Cole rasped.
"Let's do this." Philip held out his good hand. "Together."
"Right." They grasped hands and gazed at the swirling river tugging on them. The water was rising dangerously fast, climbing up to the top of their chests.
"If anything happens to me," Philip shouted over the roar of the waves. "Will you care for Liana?"
"I will!" Cole shouted back.
The voices reverberated hauntingly in head, and Cole took a shuddering breath. Philip was gone... but Liana remained. His blind sister was all alone, save for the relatives she lived with. Perhaps it was time for Cole to make good on his promise.
He sighed softly, then turned from the cemetery and walked away.
Cole had slipped away from Steep Wisdom after morning chores and exercises, switching from his ninja gi to a dark hoodie to blend in with the citizens. He had flown to the park on his elemental dragon, but now he simply walked down the bustling streets of Ninjago City, content to let his feet do the work.
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the public gym. He stepped inside, drawing the hood back from his head. Several people were inside; some running on treadmills, some lifting weights, others stretching on yoga mats and more doing who-knows-what. Cole had only one person in mind, though, and further inspection of the gym proved his search successful.
Liana was training in the boxing corner of the gym, swinging her nunchucks around expertly. She was barefoot, wearing dark yoga pants and a white workout bra. Sweat trickled down her face and torso. Though she looked exhausted, there was a happy, determined expression on her disfigured face.
The sight of the girl working out brought a small smile to Cole's face. His smile turned into a mischievous grin when he suddenly had an idea.
Slipping off his shoes and sweater, Cole went to the supply closet and brought out his own pair of nunchucks. Quiet as a mouse, he snuck around the boxing ring and watched Liana, waiting for the right moment. When she stopped swinging for a moment to catch her breath, he attacked.
"Yaaahh!" Nunchucks swinging in his hands, Cole leapt at Liana.
With a startled shriek, she whipped around and instinctively parried the blow. She twisted her body around like a snake and kicked at his hands, knocking his weapons out of balance.
Remembering his little training with nunchucks, Cole did a behind-the-neck pass—swinging the nunchucks behind his neck with his right hand and grabbing them with his left—and responded with a L-strike, which forced Liana to back up a few feet.
With a determined snarl, Liana crouched and showed her skill by an expert wrist roll, swinging her weapons over in one hand in a single, fluid motion. With hardly any hesitation, she did a shoulder-to-shoulder spin and sprung.
The two of them battled hard, neither one of them willing to give in. They shouted in excitement as their weapons clashed, which echoed loudly in the huge room. Several people stopped what they were doing to watch the fight, some even recording with their phones.
While Cole had the advantage of surprise, it was his companion who had the upper hand. Her experience with nunchucks was clear when she rose as the victor. If they had been fighting with scythes or swords, the outcome would have been different, but seeing that Cole had never had much practice with nunchucks, he was the one who found himself at his opponent's mercy.
Liana finally knocked the heavy sticks out of his hands, and before he could surrender, she wrestled him to the ground.
"Ahh! OK, you win, truce, truce!!" Cole feebly waved off her attack.
"What were you thinking, ambushing me like that?!" Liana demanded as she rolled off his chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
Cole lay back on the mat gasping heavily for breath. His lungs stung and his muscles ached terribly. He could feel his heart hammering madly and realized that his shirt and hair were both drenched in sweat. "Remind me to never do that again."
"Noted." She wiped her head and collapsed on the mat beside him, dropping the nunchucks. "Seriously, though."
"I thought you might want a training partner."
"Training partner? Ha! You fight like a kitten!"
"Yeah, right! You acted like you were fighting for your life!"
"For a moment I was—until I realized it was just you!"
They laughed, then Cole rasped, "You'll have to teach me how to use those things. Maybe I could surprise Jay with some new moves."
"Heh. Maybe..." She sat up grinning. "if you teach me Spinjitzu."
He blinked in surprise. "What?"
She rolled over onto her belly next to him. "Teach me Spinjitzu!" She widened her milky eyes pleadingly. "I'd love to know how, and you could do it in exchange for nunchuck lessons!"
He sat up next to her. "Are you serious, or are we still messing around?"
Liana shook her head. "I'm serious! I really, really want to know how to do it. Plus, I think it'd be fun."
"Well... I don't know..."
"What, is Spinjitzu only meant for ninja or something?"
"No, no, that's not it," he replied hastily. "I mean, I don't think so. I think Misako knows Spinjitzu, and she's not a ninja."
"Who's she?"
"Lloyd's mother."
"Oh."
"Are you sure about wanting to learn Spinjitzu?" He said, "It's pretty hard to get the hang of it."
"How long did it take you to learn?" she demanded.
"Uhh... well... a couple of days."
"If you can learn Spinjitzu in just a couple of days, why can't I?" She hesitated and seemed to regard the matter seriously. "Of course, there's still your training, and I have studying to do. I'm free nearly every afternoon, but I guess you might be too busy to come by and—"
"Well, I won't be too busy," Cole said carefully. "I have a few hours to kill after lunch each day. Maybe..." He looked at her, glancing at the scars. "Maybe I could drop by every other day, and we could train each other for fun. You teach nunchaku, and I'll teach Spinjitzu. How's that?"
Liana smiled. "I like it!"
He held out a hand. "Deal?"
"Deal." She nodded.
He took her hand and shook it. The new plans cast a look of happy anticipation on Liana's disfigured face, until she said thoughtfully, "Will your teammates have to know? They'll probably wonder where you go."
"Nah." He waved off the idea of telling his friends. He wasn't going to start telling them about his story with Liana now; it would require to tell them what happened years ago, and right now it hurt to even remember. "We don't need to tell them. It can be our little secret. I can always make up one excuse or another.
"They don't usually leave the teashop around this time, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were all there now, playing video games."
* * *
Contrary to Cole's belief, not all of the ninja were at the teashop. One of them stood outside the tall, stylishly carved gates of Cliff Gordon's luxurious—though empty—estate. The figure looked small standing next to the tall structure in his simple blue jacket.
Jay gazed up the hill beyond the gate and the white, modern mansion sitting ahead. Now how did I get in last time? he wondered. Then he face-palmed. You dork!
Last time he had the key to the gates and house; his parents had given it to him along with the address when they confessed his adoption. There was no way he wanted to go through that again. His parents were probably happier believing he thought he was their birth son, anyway... There was no need to change anything. Right?
Still, he had to get inside. Jay smirked. You can't keep out a ninja!
He shinnied up a tree, balanced on a bough hanging over the wall, and gracefully leapt to the ground. Wiping his hands, he walked up the cobblestone driveway and stopped at the door.
He inspected the lock and murmured to himself. "Hmm... You can use an old-fashioned key, or an electric key card." He grinned. "Let's go with 'or'!"
He flicked his wrist and his hand came to life with dancing strands of electricity. Concentrating, he maneuvered the energy into the mechanisms of the lock and disabled it, as well as the high-tech security system. The red light on the lock went off... as well as the other lights in the mansion. Somewhere inside, the muffled sound of a lightbulb shattering reached his ears.
"Oops." Jay chuckled. "Ha-ha. My bad." With that, he opened the elegantly styled doors and stepped inside.
It was just like last time. The interior rooms of the house were modern, lavish, and spotlessly clean. All was quiet, the only sound being Jay's footsteps as he wandered down the hall into the living room. He passed by the Fritz Donnegan statue pointing a blaster and grappling with a Blork Serpent from the planet Blart. The tall figurine activated and declared in a robotic voice: "Fear isn't a word where I come from!"
Jay's gaze traveled from the furniture in the living room to the robot standing before him. This was the place where his father—his real father—lived. He'd walked these hallways. He'd sat in these chairs.
Why had Cliff Gordon given him away? Had Jay not been wanted by his father? Had Cliff even been married? Maybe Jay's birth had been a disgrace—an unwanted mistake. Or maybe there had been something wrong with him.
He gazed into the reflection of one of the spotless trophies on the shelf. For whatever reason, Jay realized, in his earliest days—he had been unloved.
He fingered a gold figure on one of the trophies, then remembered something. He gripped the metal piece in his hand and pulled down. As he expected, the life-size Fritz Donnegan poster to his left shifted and was pulled away by a hidden mechanism in the walls, revealing the secret room. Jay stepped in with a smile.
His gaze traveled over the line of mannequins wearing costumes from all the movies, from a Hanuk the Ibinikian smuggler costume to a Princess Beluthnin gown. He stopped at the lavish dressing table, where exotic movie makeup and perfume sat. Attached to the mirrors were several black-and-white photographs, most starring Cliff Gordon standing cheerily with other movie actors. In one of the pictures, Cliff was grinning and trying to kiss the actress who'd played Princess Beluthnin. She was slapping him upside the head with a Firefang sword prop.
Jay chuckled and turned away, glancing at the posters on the walls. He turned around and froze in shock.
Held up by some fancy mannequin, there stood Jay's old ninja gi.
"I thought that was just his Kayonakain prince costume!" he rasped. That was Jay's outfit standing there. In his father's dressing room. Before he'd only cast a passing glance at this wall, but now...
"What the heck...?" He walked over to the mannequin and realized that not only was his uniform there, so was his picture—dozens of his pictures, in fact.
"Where in the world did he get these?" Many of them looked like they came from newspaper clippings. Jay recognized the one the whole gang had posed for after they had defeated the Overlord the first time. Why did Cliff Gordon have this part of the room dedicated to his son?
Maybe Jay hadn't been completely unloved after all...
Still, wouldn't Gordon had tried contacting Jay if he knew where he was, what he was doing? Surely he had been proud of Jay; look at all those pictures! Why had his father kept quiet?
Now Jay would never know, because his father was gone. He would never get to know the man whose blood he shared. He may never find out what happened all those years ago.
He glanced at Cliff's book—Cliff Gordon's Handbook to Wooing Women—but he didn't touch it. Last time it had gotten him into a lot of trouble. Jay decided that despite his acting career, he wasn't very impressed with his father's writing skills. He'd seen better content from fanfic writers.
Idly, he picked up a space blaster from its prop and wandered back over to the dressing table. Something shimmered and caught his eye. Curious, he looked at the surface of the table and saw a small, gleaming object sitting in the corner.
He picked it up and realized it was a small, smooth stone. It was a mix of blue and silver-purple colors, cold to the touch. It felt oddly soothing to hold it in his hand.
Eerily, almost at that moment, Jay had the feeling of being watched. The feeling grew, and he was certain someone was standing behind him. He felt a cold, menacing presence on his back, and his heart began to race.
Blaster in hand, he whipped around and pulled the trigger. "Yah!"
A little flag with the letters 'ZAP!' popped out feebly.
He looked up from the useless prop and to his surprise, found nobody there. He was still alone in the dressing room.
"Huh—?" He scanned the room. "I thought someone was..."
He jumped. Sitting at the doorway was a black-and-white cat sat there. It looked scrawny and underfed, though it stared alertly at Jay with ice-blue eyes.
"Oh. Ah-hahaha..." Jay chuckled in relief. "It's just a little kitty-cat. Whew. Hi, kitty."
The cat continued staring at him.
"Are you Cliff Gordon's cat? I guess that would mean you'd be my cat now. Heh."
No response.
"Sheesh." Jay tried to ignore its calculating stare. "Cats are weird." He turned back to the dressing table, weighing the stone in his hands.
Behind him, the cat's eyes narrowed hungrily at the sight of the stone.
Jay pocketed the thing, then paused. Behind where the stone had been sitting, a small piece of paper lay. He picked it up and realized it was a watercolor sketch of a beautiful young woman. She was clothed in blue, and her hair was long and fell in elegant waves, a gorgeous blond. She faced away from the viewer, and the movement of her hair and robes indicated a hard breeze was blowing in the picture.
He gazed at the picture for a moment, then turned it over. On the other side, in scrawled handwriting, someone had written: 'My only love'.
Who was the woman in the picture? An old girlfriend? Or someone more? He fingered the image, noting that while the figure sat gracefully, there was also a mischievous curl to her lips, as if thinking of a secret joke while the painter worked.
Jay wasn't sure why he did it, but he pocketed the watercolor painting along with the blue stone. He stepped up to the doorway, then took a final glance back at the dressing room.
"Bye, Dad." Quietly he shut the secret door.
As he headed toward the gate, the cat sat on the roof and watched him, eyes unblinking. He may not have seen the cat as he left, but he could still feel its dark, menacing gaze on his back as he walked away.