Skylor jolted awake at a sharp pain digging into her cheek. She jerked up, then voiced a disgusted snort and reached for the splinter wedged into her flesh. Trying to sleep on that single bare wooden board in the dingy cell was next to impossible. When she wasn't shivering head-to-toe from the frigid air, seeing returning images of her nightmares that made her blood run cold, or falling off the board, she was getting splinters into her skin and her clothes.
It didn't help that the lashed wounds on her back were burning and throbbing with every breath she took. She had tried to summon ice or something to soothe the pain, but her power was weak. She needed food, water, and real sleep.
Not to mention a warmer bed. She suppressed a groan and sat up. She wondered what time it was. It was impossible to tell down in the depths of the cell, with no window nor clock to give her an inkling of how much time was passing. Ice crept up and down the cobblestone walls of the narrow room she sat in. It was so dark, she could only see a dim, gray silhouette of her hands in front of her. She would have worried about rats and spiders, but there was no way any creature could survive down here for long—not in this murderous cold.
Her teeth were chattering, and feebly she wrapped her arms around herself, but it did little good. Of all her needs, the one she ached for the most was warmth. Her lips were chapped, her skin was cracked, her knuckles were bleeding, her tongue felt dry, and every movement made her lightheaded. There was no padding for the plank she lay on, no covers, not even a thin blanket; just that stupid wood board full of splinters.
If only I had a fire, at least...
At this thought, Skylor raised one hand in front of her, and concentrated on summoning heat. In the dark of the cell, she thought she saw her fingertips shimmer. This small effort was making her feel dizzy, but still she pushed for more—she needed more.
Come on...! She resisted the urge to lick her lips; that would make the dry and cracked flesh even worse.
Fwoom. A small flare of light blinded her for a second. Tentatively, a feeble flame danced slowly around the tips of her fingers. Skylor exhaled softly at the heat that warmed her face. It felt like someone's hands cupping her cheeks gently in their grasp, bringing along the scent of smoke and ash to her nose and making her eyes water. The fire was like heaven to her in the icy cell. She wished she could make it bigger and warm her entire body, but she could already feel herself weakening from the strain of sustaining this meek flame.
She sat there silently, listening to the little purr of the fire and watching the it dance on her hand. The wispy curls of flame and smoke shimmered and leapt, fierce and wild, braving the cold threatening to douse its life-giving light.
The reckless dance of the flame made her think of the one from whom she had gained this power from... In the fire hissing teasingly in her face, she caught glimpses of his alluring eyes, and saw his cocky smile beaming at her. She could almost hear him—hear his voice... and his footsteps walking across bare cobblestone. There, it was growing closer—perhaps he would come and—
Wait. That's not in my head.
She stiffened. There really were footsteps padding on the floor outside her cell—and they were getting louder. She flicked her fist and put out the flame, once more finding herself shrouded in utter darkness. She shivered in the cold, and sat up straighter in her seat. With abated breath, she listened to the sound of keys jangling, some an electronic beep, and watched the door slowly, cautiously swing open.
Dim firelight shone in from the corridor beyond, casting a dark silhouette across the short, masculine figure peering into the room. When her eyes had adjusted to the shift of light, Skylor scrutinized the visitor of her prison.
She was slightly surprised to realize that it was a young man not much older than she was—one with a youthful freckled face and blue eyes. Reddish-brown hair peeked out messily from under some sort of dark-colored cap, of which embroidered at the front was some sort of gold symbol; a curving line with additional dots within its shape. The man's whole attire seemed to hold a gray-and-navy-blue theme. Gray armor was strapped both over and under simple clothing, while dark, thick pants contrasted against big, fluffy white boots that looked as if they were made of fur. A thick belt wound about his waist and carried several pouches and a leather holster carrying some sleek, metal weapon. The slim gloves he wore were cut off at the fingertips. His appearance looked somewhat like a uniform, although Skylor had never seen such a style in warrior or guardsman.
The man froze in his tracks and gaped at her, his mouth hanging open. His arms fell to his sides—one hand carried a ring of some strange sort of keys, one that looked to be made of dark metal and shaped in slanted squares. The person stood there for a moment, speechless, before managing to stammer, "Y— you're up!"
"That, or I'm sleepwalking," she responded wryly.
The man hesitated, then took a cautious step forward. "Who— who are you?"
Skylor paused. There was no reason to hide her identity, but she would rather have known who this person was first. "Who are you?"
"I am Akiak." At this the young man drew himself up. "Second Order Private. Twenty-seventh Regiment of the Polarian Forces of His Majesty the King Silla the Fourteenth."
Skylor blinked slowly. "Uh-huh... Akiak."
"My superior officer and I found you lying in the middle of one of the lakes westward two weeks ago," Akiak said. He ventured a step closer. "I was the one who saved you. You should thank me."
"Thank you?" Skylor repeated incredulously. "For what? For dragging me to this cold place, locking me in this stinking cell and whipping me in my sleep? Yeah, thanks a lot."
Akiak stared at her. Instead of being angry and offended, he simply seemed puzzled. "Don't you have any idea what I am? What people have you in their grasp right now?"
"No," she replied flatly.
He frowned. "Who are you? How can anyone not know who we are?"
"I'm not from here. I come from a land far away." Skylor wasn't exactly sure how far, but she was pretty sure Ninjago was far enough that nobody here knew it.
"We're the only people who live here. There aren't any other places." Akiak's frown deepened. "Surely you can't be one of the savages who live in these parts—but there aren't any other people."
He said this more to himself than to Skylor, but she answered nonetheless. "I'm neither." Instead of attempting to explain, which she already figured would be a futile venture, she changed the subject. "Why did you lock me in here? I didn't do anything wrong!"
"We couldn't tell if you were a savage or a rogue Polarian." Akiak shrugged. "Toklo and the other officers thought it best to lock you up in case you were dangerous."
"And whip me in my sleep?"
"Whatever we did, you would not wake. We thought you might have seen one of those savages' medicine men and had been cursed, so that if you were captured by us you would avoid torment. They wanted to see if they could rouse you with pain."
Skylor felt her disdain for this man increasing. She scowled. "So—when you discover a helpless person who's really sick, outside all alone, the first thing you do is lock them in a freezing cold dungeon and nearly kill them when they can't even defend themselves. Nice to meet you, too."
She felt satisfaction when a flash of guilt crossed Akiak's face. Yet he protested, "We did not know if you were on our side or not. You don't look like either or savage or a Polarian—"
"If you didn't know, why did you assume the worst? Maybe next time you should think before you act," she retorted scathingly. "That way fewer innocent people get hurt."
He frowned again. "Women never talk back to men, especially to soldiers. You could be executed for everything you just said to me."
"Better than freezing and starving to death in here."
For a moment the young man was silent. Then he said, a little slowly, as if he were still thinking as he talked, "Your situation is completely out of my hands. I'm just a private. Although..." He twisted his lips thoughtfully. "Toklo did tell me that if you came to, I should give you enough food and water and stuff until you're well enough to be interrogated."
Before Skylor could respond, Akiak stepped to the door. "I'll be back."
With that, he shut the door, locked it, and left. Skylor was once more surrounded by darkness and silence.
She heaved a low sigh and leaned back against the gritty wall. She felt her wounds throb in protest at the movement. She wasn't sure what to make of the young soldier Akiak at the moment, or what he and his "superior officers" would do to her or wanted from her, but she wasn't sure she liked any of this.
However, Akiak could very well end up being her ticket out of this prison.
* * *
Misako was dreaming.
She was walking up a flight of stone steps—steps that crawled and clung to a steep, rocky mountainside, going up and up and up. To one side of her was the reassuring, solid wall of the cliff. To the other side was a yawning gap of sky, where hundreds of feet below, thick clouds gathered. The sky was dark with late evening, and a stiff breeze was blowing—yet Misako did not feel afraid.
She was a child again. Her hands and face were small and smooth with youth, and her hair, instead of gray, was back to brown and braided in pigtails. Her eyesight was just as healthy as it had been when she was young, and she wore no glasses on her face. The little girl hopped up each step idly, not at all worrying at the fatal drop to one side of the stairs. She felt that there was something up there, at the top of the mountain, waiting for her—something she needed. Thus she continued to climb.
"Misako!" a little voice cried.
Misako looked up. Ahead of her stood a girl a little older than she was. Her blond-streaked hair was in a braid down her back, matching her ocean-blue eyes. She was dressed in simple peasants' attire; brown pants, sandals, and a silk shirt. The older girl waved at her, smiling broadly—a smile that was all too familiar to Misako.
"Yui!" Misako called the name of her sister. "Wait for me!"
Yui giggled. "Hurry up, then, slowpoke!" She started up the stairs ahead, soon disappearing.
Misako, not willing to let her big sister get ahead of her, raced up the stairs. It wasn't long before her shorter legs began burning and she was panting for breath. Still she ran, climbing recklessly up each step of the mountainside. Above her head the churning clouds rumbled warningly.
Finally, Misako reached the top. Gasping, she collapsed. In doing so, she glanced down at herself to see that she was no longer a small child. Now she was a young woman—perhaps in the middle of her teenage years. Her pigtails had turned into an elegant braid falling down her back, and she felt that the rest of her body moved less clumsily.
Misako stood and saw her sister standing in front of her, still grinning. They were at the very top of the mountain, in a little area of dirt and pebbles that fell away steeply at all sides. Surrounding them was the sky, dark and and monstrous. The two girls were all alone together.
Yui was older now, just as Misako was. Now her hair was down, falling around her shoulders and framing her face like a princess. To Misako, nobody in all the world looked so beautiful as her sister, especially when she smiled. Misako felt her heart warm with affection and familiarity that she had to felt for so long. She stumbled to her feet.
"Don't be afraid," Yui said. That sweet, reassuring smile remained in her face. "I'll always look out for you."
"I'll look out for you, too," Misako replied eagerly.
Something stirred in the background. A small, dark shadow crept out from behind a rock and slipped next to Yui, who didn't seem to notice. The shadow morphed into a cat with golden fur, and double tails sprouted from his rump. The creature grinned its feline smile at Misako.
"Are you sure about that?" Lion Claw purred.
Before Misako could do so much as scream, the werecat sorcerer shifted suddenly into his human form, his dark cape flowing behind him like a whispering entity. Gleaming claws the size of knives flashed and dug into the older girl's throat—before she knew it, Misako was watching Yui stumble and fall into a heap on the ground, unmoving.
"No!" Falling to her knees, Misako grabbed desperately at her sister, yet even as she did so, Yui's slender figure shimmered, and her face, once so full of life and laughter, disintegrated like sand at the touch of Misako's fingers.
"I will make you writhe in a thousand pains," Lion Claw chuckled above her head. "I will make your heart tear apart all over again. I will make you scream for mercy."
With a cry of rage, Misako leapt to her feet and lunged for the werecat. Lion Claw stepped away, and his image began to become distorted.
"You will want to join your mate and die to end the dream, but it will never end." His figure grew dark and smoky, and it began to curl and wisp away like mist, until all that was left of him were his yellow, taunting eyes. "Only after I've had my fun with you, after I've exacted my vengeance on you and your only son, after you are cold and still beneath my claws, only then will I be satisfied."
Just as the golden shimmer of his eyes faded away, the wind roared. Misako clutched her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she found herself standing in the middle of a courtyard. The sky above her head was still dark, churning and rumbling with the threat of a terrible storm.
She gasped. She knew this place. This was the monastery—the monastery Wu and Garmadon had grown up in. She scanned the familiar walls, the smooth cobblestone floor, and the comforting windows and designs that she had seen before. She stood alone in the center of the court. All was still. The only sound came from the angry clouds in the distance, along with that dry, bitter breeze that tugged on her hair.
The wall of the building exploded. A dark figure flew out of the dust and rubble that scattered across the courtyard. Misako bit back a gasp as she recognized Garmadon—not the old man she'd known before he'd sacrificed himself, nor the wretched monster driven nearly mad with the evil Great Devourer's venom—but Garmadon in his younger years. The young man stifled a small groan where he lay on the ground, clutching the golden Sword of Fire and the Nunchucks of Lightning. Quickly, though, he shoved himself up, allowing Misako to see his face. It was pale and drawn, and his eyes flashed blood red.
Garmadon whirled around toward the hole in the wall when another figure marched through. Two Golden Weapons—the Shurikens of Ice and the Scythe of Quakes—flashed in the eery light as the second man strode outside, glaring at Garmadon furiously.
"Put those weapons down!" A young Wu gestured with the Scythe, jaw clenching.
"You mean..." A nasty scowl crossed Garmadon's face as he hissed, "Like this?"
With that, Garmadon leapt into the air and swung the Nunchucks down upon his brother. Instinctively Wu blocked the blow with the handle of the Scythe. Misako watched in horror as Garmadon launched himself at Wu again, slashing the Sword of Fire toward his face. Wu again blocked the blow, this time with one of the Shurikens, and strained with a low groan to shove off the Sword's blade.
This is when Wu sent Garmadon to the Underworld, Misako realized with a jolt. She had not witnessed the terrible battle herself, but Wu had told her how Garmadon had coveted the Golden Weapons and sought to take them from the monastery, and how Wu had had to fight him. It had torn her heart apart, and the images she'd conjured in her head of the brothers' battle and Garmadon's banishment haunted her dreams for years. Now she was witnessing the conflict for herself, brought to life in another one of these terrible visions she'd been trapped in for—oh, how long had she been tormented by these images and creatures, these pains and memories?—a very long time, it felt.
Just as the realization of what she was witnessing hit her, a blast of light, created by the forced contact of the Golden Weapons' power, suddenly exploded with an ear-shattering boom! Wu and Garmadon were thrown across the courtyard, sprawling. The blast of white light shot up into the sky above them.
Thunder rumbled, and with it the darkness that had been drawing nearer minute by minute suddenly fell upon the courtyard; shadows surrounded the two masculine figures, with thick clouds churning above them.
Garmadon immediately jumped to his feet and staggered to Wu, gripping the Weapons in his hands, which glowed in the dim, choking light. Misako felt a shiver of horror as Garmadon lurched to Wu, raising the Sword of Fire as he hissed, "Goodbye, brother."
Wu scrabbled around on the ground, staring up in shock as Garmadon stood over him. He raised one arm above his head, pleading, "Garmadon! Do not do this!"
Misako felt like something was wrong even before it happened. She knew she was looking at something that had already happened, and yet there was something—something off. Like when one is seeing a plot twist in a movie just before it happens. This had already happened, though... History had been said and done. There was nothing that could change the results. Garmadon would be banished, and Wu would live—
Wait. Aren't the symbols on his robes supposed to glow right now?
Misako looked. The symbols weren't there.
"Wu!" she screamed just as Garmadon dealt the finishing blow. The Sword of Fire plunged into Wu's chest with a sickening crunch.
Her head spun. She couldn't take her eyes off the figure that slumped to the ground, utterly lifeless. Her stomach churned. She staggered backwards and fell, choking down a shocked sob. This wasn't right. This had never happened. This couldn't be real.
Then Garmadon was facing her. His eyes flashed red like burning fire, lit with blind hatred. Instead of the young, brown-haired, bright-eyed man she'd loved, Garmadon transformed into the black, hulking, four-armed version that his curse had driven him to. He cackled maniacally, and lurched toward Misako, wielding the weapon that had finished Wu.
Misako stumbled to her feet and ran.
Snow. Snow flew in her face and nipped her cheeks. Her breath evaporated in front of her face in breathless gasps as she ran. She stumbled through knee-high snow. Frost-covered trees flashed by her vision, matching the dark shadows of a moonless night. She was running though a snowy forest, midnight acting as her cloak.
She didn't know if Garmadon was still pursuing her or not, yet she didn't dare stop. Some dark force seemed to gain on her, and she fled in and out of the shadows of the thin trees, spraying snow as she went. To her bosom she clutched a small bundle—a bundle that was warm against her chest, that she loved with all her heart, and that she didn't ever want to let go of.
The bundle wriggled and squalled shrilly in the cold, bleak night air, breaking the malignant hush.
"Shh," Misako paused in her frantic stride, anxiously rocking the little treasure back and forth in her arms. She hunched her shoulders over, casting the shadow of the cloak she wore over her precious cargo, and soothed, "It's all right, Lloyd. Mama's got you."
The infant Lloyd quieted long enough to peek out from the soft folds of the blankets within which he was wrapped snugly. A pair of big green eyes blinked uncertainly up at her face, cheeks a rosy-red color from the bitter cold. He screwed up his little face when fat, fluffy snowflakes drifted down and landed on his face like gentle kisses.
"I've got you," Misako whispered again. She hugged him to her heart, as if clutching him close enough would make him feel the aching love she felt. "And I won't ever let go of you, my son."
Lloyd sneezed.
A low, feline growl split the air and nearly stopped Misako's heart. She whirled around to see, several yards behind her, dark, hulking shadows slinking between the silhouettes of the trees. Her own tracks in the snow were covered by large, furry paws, with claws reflecting the gleam of the frost like ice. Glowing orbs floating in the dark glared at her—green, blue, hazel, brown, amber... and gold.
The golden eyes stepped forward, and the face of a lion-like cat grinned at her from the darkness. "He's ours for the taking, Daughter of No One," Lion Claw purred.
Misako turned and ran, gripping Lloyd tightly to the point of smothering him in her arms. The growls and yowls of cats ripped the air behind her, and she heard heavy paws thumping and flying over the thick snow. She staggered her way through the forest, sliding down short hillsides, leaping over frost-covered logs, and tearing her way through frozen brambles and underbrush.
Through snow and shadow she fled, blood pounding in her ears and her lungs and legs burning like fire. She was gasping for breath. The infant whimpered faintly.
The cats were still crying out behind her, shrieking and chanting with feline cackles. They chased after her like wolves, their eyes flashing in the dark. Still Misako ran. They would not get her son.
A hidden tree root snatched her foot, and she stumbled, landing face-first in the snow. Lloyd flew from her grasp with a wail and disappeared into the shadows.
"Lloyd!" Misako scrabbled desperately for where her baby boy had disappeared. She tried to swallow back the sobs that threatened to break free from her throat and reveal to the world how much her heart was tearing. She swiped and dug through the snow ditch, gasping and crying and calling out for her little boy and all the while those cats' terrible voices surrounded her, screeching from all sides sneeringly and taunting her.
Their cruel stares glowed from the inky black around her, mixing in with the snow that fell and the lifeless whisper of the forest, and with each passing second they drew nearer. Lion Claw appeared before her. He drew back his head and yowled triumphantly into the night, and still Misako searched for the little child that she loved so much—
* * *
Lloyd nearly fell out of his chair when Misako suddenly jolted up in her bed, shrieking, "No!"
"Mom!" For a second, all Lloyd could do was stare. The magazine he had been half-reading dropped to the floor, but he didn't bother to pick it up. He sat in a cold, stiff chair by the cot. Misako, wearing the sickly-green patient's uniform, blinked blearily as she sat up in bed. She was trembling, and her face was white. She scanned her surroundings warily.
"Mom." Hesitating, Lloyd reached out and touched her hand. When she flinched and looked at him, he murmured, "It's just a recurring nightmare. Matilda said those might happen. You're OK now. Nothing's going to hurt you anymore."
Lloyd felt his stomach sinking when Misako's only reply was to gaze blankly at him—she was looking at him like she would a stranger. He swallowed. "I— it's me."
"Garmadon?" Misako's voice sounded scratchy.
"No." Lloyd squeezed her thin hand. "Lloyd. His son. Your son. Come on, you've gotta remember. It's Lloyd."
"Lloyd?" she repeated stupidly. "But... that's not right. Lloyd's just a few months old—just a little baby..."
Lloyd forced away the panic threatening to take over. "No, that was a long time ago. I'm grown up now. Don't you remember? Y— you left me at Darkly's, but then we met again—years later..." He murmured bleakly, "Come on, you've got to remember."
Slowly, as a few seconds passed silently, the fog drifted away from Misako's eyes. She blinked rapidly. "Lloyd?"
"Yeah." Hope rose in his chest. In one movement Lloyd grabbed the wire-rimmed glasses sitting on the bedside table and put them on Misako's face, so that she would see him better. "Yeah—it's me. You're going to be OK now."
"Lloyd..." She trembled, then choked a low groan and buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."
He blinked. "Uhh... sorry for what?"
Then, with an uncomfortable jolt, he realized his mother was crying.
"Whoa!" He grabbed some tissues on the bedside and meekly tried to force them into her hands. "Hey, it's OK now! You're not in the Dark Sleep anymore—!"
"I'm so, so sorry," Misako sobbed quietly, stifling the noise behind her clenched fists.
"For what?"
"I left you. At the school. All alone. I wanted to go back for you—" She shuddered and rocked herself in the cot. "But I didn't. You cried for me. But I didn't go back for you. I missed you so much—"
"That was a long time ago." Lloyd attempted to comfort her, feeling helpless and awkward. He didn't know why his mother was crying about something that had happened years ago and that he'd already forgiven, but he wished she'd stop. "It's over now. I'm fine. And you're fine."
Tears streaming down her pale face, Misako grabbed Lloyd and hugged him tight, trying—and failing—to bite back her sobs. Lloyd allowed his mother to clutch him tightly on the bed, and he in turn patted her back and rested his chin on her shoulder.
Misako—the fearless woman who Lloyd had seen with his own eyes face off stone warriors and nindroids, stand defiantly before the twisted and deformed version of her husband, live through many of the trials the ninja had survived only by the skin of their teeth, who stood stoic and strong in the passing of Garmadon and who stayed true to her family, his mother—hugged him as if she would never let go and cried as if her heart had finally broken. As she wept, one thought crossed Lloyd's mind and made him clench his jaw angrily:
The Moon Tribe will pay for this.
She whispered shakily, "I love you. I love you so much."
"I know. I know. Don't worry." Lloyd inhaled slowly. "I promise, the people who did this to you are not going to get away with this."
* * *
During lunch, the ninja agreed to pay Jay a visit after a session of their normal training. All were eager to see him and to find how well their friend was faring, though Dr. Wesley had insisted on letting him sleep most of the day. Despite the doctor's precaution, when the ninja gathered on the deck of the Bounty to practice their skills and try out the tekko-kagi claws Cyrus Borg had kindly bestowed upon them, Nya had conveniently disappeared.
Thus, while Zane, Lloyd, Cole, Liana, and even Wu got used to the large metal contraptions strapped to their hands, Nya paid Jay a visit. The nurses had been a little skeptical to let her in, but with some persistent urging they admitted her in the ward. Along with Lloyd visiting his mother earlier that day, when Misako had woken up, the hospital staff was finally beginning to get used to the presence of the ninja.
When Nya was led down the corridor to Jay's room and the nurses had tactfully left her at the threshold, her quiet knock was answered by a heartily familiar voice. "It's open."
When she stepped in and saw Jay sitting up in bed, she smiled and greeted, "Hi, you."
"Nya!" Jay brightened, perking up where he sat. A tray had been placed across his lap, upon which one could behold a plate of some unidentifiable gray substance and a cup of some unidentifiable white substance, accompanied by a napkin and matching spork. A few bites looked to have been taken out of the gray lump, but now Jay held a little red and white-striped paper box carrying small objects that looked suspiciously like pistachio nuts. Several shells lay scattered on the tray's surface, evidence of his crunchy snack that matched the layer of salt upon his fingertips.
"How are you feeling?" She sat down on the edge of Jay's cot.
"Hungry." He gave the gray substance on his plate and the white liquid in his cup a look of disdain and suspicion. "It doesn't really help that the food here is super gross. Did you bring anything good to eat?" He looked at her hopefully.
She replied with a rueful shake of her head. "Sorry. We're not allowed to bring food in here."
"Darn," he muttered, then added brightly, "At least there are pistachios." He cracked a shell between his fingers.
"Jay," she began cautiously. "Do you remember that night we were in the police station? When the tea shop burned down and those nekoma— those cat-things were disguised as Kai and Skylor?"
His expression sobered. "Yeah. I remember."
"How much?" Nya pressed.
He screwed his mouth around as he thought. "We were in the hallway. A big brown cat came up, and it knocked Zane out the window... Cole's scythe was stuck in something. The cat—" He hesitated. "Yeah... the cat came after me. We crashed through the door onto stairs. He shoved me down on the floor, and..." His gaze shifted away from Nya's face. He continued softly, "He was looking at me. He— he said something. I dunno... I just remember looking at his eyes, and his mouth opening up in front of me..." His voice trailed off.
"Do you remember what you dreamed?" she asked gently.
He frowned in thought for a moment. Then a sick-looking expression crossed his face and paled it. For a second she thought he was going to vomit again.
"Yeah." He stared down at the bed covers. "But I don't really want to talk about it." He fingered the palm of one hand gingerly, as if looking for something embedded in the flesh. "What happened?"
She took a deep breath. "Those giant cats those things that were pretending to be Kai and Skylor and that attacked us in the police station—they're shape-shifters. They're called bakeneko and nekomata."
"'Naked mata'?" he repeated with a funny grin. "What's a mata? And why isn't it wearing any clothes?"
"Neck-oh-mah-tah. They're giant cats—half human and half cat, really." She explained what bakeneko and nekomata were, what the Tribe of the Moon was, and why they were after the ninja and the moonstones. Jay's eyes widened when she explained how Ronin had been captured alongside him, Misako, Kai, and Skylor, and how the creatures copied their forms to look and talk like them. A combination of disgust and fascination mingled on Jay's expression when he inspected the "Dark Mark" on the underside of his left forearm.
"So that big tabby pretended to be me?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Did it work?"
She blinked. "What?"
"The disguise." He looked at her. "Did it work? Were you guys fooled?"
"Oh. Yeah." She nodded, sheepish. "It was creepy. We thought it was you for like, two days. He looked like you, he'd taken your clothes, he talked like you, he acted like you..." She shook her head. "He even treated everyone the same way you would. He must have been tailing you for a long time to imitate you so perfectly."
"So..." He raised his eyebrows. "How'd you find out I wasn't me? Or—I was him— no, wait, arg—" He stammered, "That he wasn't me?"
Nya told him about Matilda, explaining how the older woman had disguised herself as a cat to stick with the ninja, and how she was the one who had awoken Cole to warn him of the burning teashop. Jay was confused. "Wait— so, Matilda's one of those naked-mata things?"
"No, she's a human—a human witch."
"A witch?" he grinned. "What, does she live in a gingerbread house and eat kids?"
"I'm serious, Jay," she protested. "She's like Clouse. A sorcerer, but Cole's friend."
"His friend?"
"They'd met a long time ago, before any of you guys met," she explained, recalling what Cole had told her when she'd asked him similar questions. "When Cole ran away from dance school, Matilda helped him get through mountains and trailed with him for a while. She's back because she found out the Moon Tribe were up to something, and she knows how to deal with them."
Jay frowned. "Why didn't Cole ever tell us this? I know I'd want to tell everyone I once met a witch!"
"You know Cole." She shrugged. Before their conversation could run onto a tangent, she went on to explain that Matilda had fought alongside the Elemental Masters against the Moon Tribe decades ago, and knew the shape-shifters well enough to tell the ninja some about them and how to identify them as imposters.
"That's how we finally figured out that you weren't the real you," she said. "After Ronin had been captured and we'd just been ambushed by werecats, we were wondering how they were finding us so quickly. Some of us realized there had to be a spy, but we had no idea who or how." Nya decided to leave out the part about Eagle-Jay turning Cole against Liana; it would only confuse Jay, especially seeing how she hadn't even told him about Liana yet. "It happened when you— I mean— the werecat pretending to be you caught me alone. He got close enough for me to realize that your eyes were the wrong color, and that his shadow was shaped like a cat's. That was the big giveaway."
He arched one eyebrow. "'He got... close'?"
She flushed. "He— look, I thought it was you, OK? He acted just like you. He was really convincing, so it's no wonder that he almost kissed me—"
Jay's eyes bugged out.
Nya's face burned red. "I'm going to stop talking now."
"He did what?!" Jay jolted forward, spilling pistachio nuts. His eyes blazed with rage. "That slimy—! I'll kill him! That lying, cheating, stinking, no-good hairball-hacker! As soon as I get my hands on him, I'll—!"
"Calm down!" She grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back to his pillow. "He didn't do it! I attacked him, and the others helped me capture him!"
"I hope you made a tennis racket out of him," he growled.
"We made him help us rescue you." Nya swept off some of the pistachios and straightened the comforters. "He knew where they were keeping you. They were going to throw you in a lake and let you sink."
Jay quieted, sobered by this fact. "They were going to—?"
"Yeah." She took the tray of food and placed it on the bedside table. Jay was obviously in no mood to eat. "We had to travel for days through the wilderness to find them. We wouldn't have made it without Eagle Talon."
"Eagle talon?"
"That's the name of the werecat who disguised himself as you. We told him if he helped us rescue you, we'd give him a moonstone in return. That's what the Moon Tribe is after."
He asked, frowning, "Why do those crazy cats want moonstones? To make friendship bracelets?"
She sighed. "The previous Master of Earth destroyed this big moonstone that belonged to them. They thought it connected them to the spirit world, where they could meet their ancestors. Seven vital pieces of the broken moonstone were taken and are now scattered across Ninjago. The Moon Tribe thinks that if they get all the pieces back and put it together with the old moonstone," her voice took on a solemn note at this, "the spirits will give the leader, Black Blood, nine lives."
"'Nine lives'?" Jay repeated, incredulous. "What—?"
"If it's true, that means she'll be practically immortal. If we— if we kill her, she'll just come back to life and start attacking all over again." She felt herself suppress a shiver at the thought. "We'd have to kill her nine times to finally defeat her. I don't think anyone—human or cat—can do that and survive."
"Whoa," he breathed. "That's taking that saying about a cat's nine lives to a whole new level."
"They have five moonstones. They're always one step ahead of us." She sighed, "We're trying our best to find the last two, but between worrying about you and the others, Matilda trying to train us to fight against the Seven Sorcerers—they're like Black Blood's hench-cats—and Cole—" She stopped.
"Cole?" He arched an eyebrow. "What about him?"
"N— nothing." She shied from his gaze. "I mean— you'll find out when he gets here."
Jay wondered why she looked so uncomfortable at the mention of Cole.
* * *
Skylor wolfed down the food and water Akiak had brought down for her. She didn't care what it looked like or how it tasted. All she knew was that she felt as if she were starving and that this stuff was edible and felt nice and warm in her belly. Akiak's torch—an electronic device that was a bit like a flashlight, but the light came from a little ball that stuck out from the end of the stick and was held up vertically by the hand—cast a dim, silver glow in the stone cell, illuminating the young soldier's face as he watched her eat. He crouched nearby, not too close and not too far. His blue eyes seemed to be searching her, scrutinizing every move she made.
Skylor tried to push away the awkward feeling she felt at being observed like a goldfish in a bowl. The food she ate really wasn't very bad, even if it was only lukewarm. There was a thick, dark red meat that tasted like steak and was very oily with grease. It covered Skylor's fingertips and she wiped her hands on her pants. Alongside the meat strips were a few stale biscuits. The water was cold and chilled her, but she gulped it down greedily. She knew her body was suffering from both hunger and dehydration.
At length Akiak cleared his throat and asked, "How did you get here, if you come from so far away?"
She swallowed another mouthful of meat. "I don't know." She had no idea what the stuff that the cat-things had had was—had the black-haired woman called it "Traveler's Tea"?—but she figured it was something magical having to do with instant transportation. She was not the superstitious type, but Ninjago fairly thrived on magic elements. To deny its existence would be like to deny that the sky is blue.
"I was abducted. I don't know how my kidnappers got me here, or why." She picked up another piece of meat. "What kind of meat is this, by the way? It's not bad."
"Whale."
"Whale?" she repeated incredulously.
"What'd you think it was?"
"I don't know, I thought it was like cow's steak."
He blinked at her. "What's cow?"
Skylor opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she mumbled, "Nothing. Never mind." So these people didn't have cows, but they had whales and armies and native tribes. What kind of place was this? Not for the first time, Skylor wished she could take even a slight peek outside, so that she could imagine the sort of environment and situation she was in. Although, even if the frigid cold and Akiak's warm uniform hadn't tipped her off, she figured it was somewhere snowy.
"So," she ventured, hoping to start at least a halfway-friendly conversation with the soldier. "How long have you been a private?"
Akiak gave her a funny look.
"What?"
"Women are never the ones to ask questions," he replied, looking a bit amused. "It's not proper for a woman to start a conversation. Men speak first." The way he said it didn't sound unkind—he seemed more puzzled than offended.
Skylor huffed, "Well, sorry, but where I'm from, everyone is treated equally, facial hair or no facial hair. This may come as a shock to you, but a woman can be just as good as a guy."
Now Akiak looked interested. "You mean to say that where you come from, women can lead conversations and talk to men—like equals?"
"And more. We do the same jobs as men, we get the same education, and—" At this Skylor felt herself smirk at him. "—some of us can even kick guys' butts when it comes to fighting."
"You are joking." Akiak gave her a look of suspicion. "A woman could be executed for lying."
"I'm not lying," she retorted coolly. Then she shot him a coy smile. "You could try me out and see if I can match your skills."
"I could get in a lot of trouble for attacking a woman prisoner." Akiak glanced over his shoulder warily, though no noise sounded through the hallway beyond the closed door. "Besides, you're tired and hungry. That wouldn't be fair."
"At least you have some shred of decency." She took a bite out of one of the biscuits.
He shifted onto his seat and took off his round cap, exposing his cropped, reddish-brown hair. "What's it like—the land where you come from?"
Skylor paused her chewing to answer, though only after hesitating and regarding the young soldier for a moment. "A lot warmer there than it is here, that's for sure."
"Do you—?"
Akiak's question, whatever it would have been, was interrupted by the distant sound of a door slamming and several footsteps tramping on stone floor—and they were quickly growing louder.
Akiak's eyes bugged out. "Do not tell anyone I have been speaking with you!" Before she could respond, he jammed his cap back onto his head, leapt to his feet, and slipped out the door into the hall, shutting it behind him.
"What's going on?"
Skylor jumped. She'd nearly forgotten about Kissimi. The child must have been listening to the entire encounter with the Polarian soldier from behind the wall. Hastily she responded in a quiet hiss, "No idea. Just wait and see."
The footsteps stopped, very close by. A low, masculine voice growled, "What are you doing down here, Akiak?"
"Giving the prisoner food and water, like I told you, Toklo," the young man's voice responded.
"Show your commanding officer the proper respect, soldier!" another voice barked.
"Y— yes, General Tulimaq." Akiak's voice stiffened. "I apologize, Commander Toklo."
"At ease, kid," Toklo muttered gruffly.
"Is the prisoner well enough to be interrogated, Private?" the other voice demanded.
"Yes— yes, sir."
"Good."
The door slammed open, making Skylor jump. Three men stepped into the drafty cell, taking in the light of another one of those electric, silver torches with them. One was Akiak, wearing an anxious expression. The other two were older men. One wore some extra shoulder adornment atop the rest of his armor, while the other, who looked the oldest of all, had his gray breastplate decorated in several small badges of red, gold, green, and blue. His large helmet was different from the simpler caps the other two wore, although the gold insignia etched at the front was the same as the others.
The older man cast a stern glance at the other man. The one with the extra shoulder pad, as if on queue, cleared his throat and announced, "You are now in the presence of General Tulimaq of the Twenty-seventh Regiment of the Polarian Forces of His Majesty the King Silla the Fourteenth. It is his mercy you are now at."
In response to this lavish announcement, Skylor cocked one eyebrow coolly and lifted her chin. Long titles and extravagant adornments did little to impress her. Having grown up in her father's castle and witnessing the army he built and controlled, she'd known many warriors who'd paraded themselves around with their fancy titles and used their power only to abuse others to get what they wanted. To her, these people in funny furs and gray plastic armor were no different.
The man who had just made the announcement—the one she assumed was Commander Toklo, who had graying black hair and half-grown whiskers on his leathered face—glanced at Akiak. "Did she give you her name?"
Akiak dropped his gaze guiltily. "Um... no. No, sir," he amended when the general flashed him a dirty look.
"What do they call you, girl?" General Tulimaq barked. He scowled down at Skylor like she was a plate of moldy leftovers who did him the injustice of merely existing.
Skylor straightened up, giving the general a haughty look of disdain fit for a royal princess. "Wouldn't you like to know."
Tulimaq's eyes flashed. "Impudence! You act like a savage!"
"I'm not the only one acting like a savage here," she retorted smoothly.
Tulimaq's glare darkened dangerously. "You need to be taught a lesson."
Skylor sensed the blow before it came. She'd been hit enough by Chen when she was a child to know instinctively when a man was about to strike. Tulimaq's hands were large and heavy, leathered with age and experience. He raised one fist and swung it toward her face.
She caught the blow with one hand, grabbing him by the wrist. The large fist stopped just right by her face.
Tulimaq's face flushed red with rage. "How dare you?! A woman! You'd be better off letting me strike you down, you heathen!" He wrenched his arm from Skylor's grasp in disgust, as if he had been touched by some vicious disease. He lunged for her.
Skylor delivered a swift punch to his stomach, followed by a sidekick to the man's thigh. Temporarily paralyzed in the leg, Tulimaq stumbled and fell on the floor. His helmet flew off with a metallic clatter, exposing the man's balding gray hair to the cold. Skylor straightened and stood over the general, allowing herself a small smirk of satisfaction.
Even Kai would have seen that coming.
"General Tulimaq!" Commander Toklo knelt down briefly to help the older man up, but Tulimaq cursed and waved him off angrily.
"Get off me!" Tulimaq heaved himself to his feet, snatching his helmet. He huffed and glared furiously at her. "A barbaric maiden who dares not only to talk back to a man and refuse his questions, but to strike down a superior officer. You may have the face of a proper nobleman's daughter, but you have the blood of savages in your eyes! She is obviously dangerous," he said to Toklo and Akiak. "Perhaps the offspring of a Polarian deserter and a wild woman. She could be a spy for the natives."
"General Tulimaq, with all due respect—" Commander Toklo began.
"Silence!" Tulimaq's irate gaze swung back to Skylor. "I believe the other officers in the staff will agree with me when I say that this heathen must be executed, for the good of the kingdom."
Akiak's eyes widened. For a split second, it looked as if he were about to voice a protest.
"The gallows for her," Tulimaq said. "Perhaps that will loosen her tongue. Maybe she can tell us where the rest of the savage tribes are."
"I'd like to see you try," Skylor retorted.
"There's nowhere to run, savage," Tulimaq sneered. "You are locked in the lowest part of this castle, surrounded by eight hundred soldiers who guard all areas of the fortress every hour of the day. You can't get out of this cell without a key, and anyone wearing the armor of King Silla will not hesitate to take you out on sight. And outside this castle are thousands of miles of ice and snow, with no life except for the bears that will hunt you down. Your best hope is our mercy."
With that, Tulimaq slammed his helmet back onto his head, and—with a final glare of hate at Skylor—turned for the door. Toklo and Akiak followed.
Akiak paused at the doorway, glanced back at her... then shut the door behind him. In darkness, Skylor listened to their footsteps and Tulimaq's growling voice fade off.
She hugged herself and shivered. She felt shaken. Not because of Tulimaq, but because of the unexpected surge of energy she had forced herself to summon to defend herself from the general. She still felt tired and weak. She hoped she would regain her regular strength and stamina soon; neither she or the child in the cell next door could afford to be weak now.
"They're going to kill you." Kissimi's voice quivered from behind the wall. "They'll probably do it tomorrow. There's no hope." The little girl sounded on the verge of crying.
"No." Skylor seated herself on the wooden plank. "There is hope. We will escape, and soon."
"How?"
Skylor smiled to herself as her hand burst into flame. "Because I'm an Elemental Master."