Blood Legacy: The House of Alexander (18 page)

Ryan did not move, staring at the deadly weapon that held her frozen in place. She slowly raised her eyes to Kusunoki, who stared down at her, curious how she would handle defeat.

It was not what he expected. Her eyes drifted to his chest, and she slowly smiled. To his astonishment, he felt a slight itch and a warm trickle. Without taking his eyes from her, he raised his hand and in disbelief came away with a small amount of blood. His eyes narrowed.

And then the girl did the astonishing. She pushed the sai from her throat as if it were a toy, deeply slicing the palm of her hand as she did so. She stood, and with blood running down her arm, firmly pressed the bloody palm to the narrow wound on his chest.

“There,” she said with satisfaction, “Now we are blood brothers.”

The shock was intense, and it was all Kusunoki could do to maintain his composure. Outwardly, he revealed nothing, his expression as calm and poised as always. But inwardly he was reeling from the connection, and all the deadly desires it stirred up. Centuries of discipline kept him from reacting in any way, but it took every bit of his self-control.

Ryan felt the shock as well, but did not remove her hand. She stood as if analyzing the experience, recording every detail, cataloguing every nuance, every aspect of the bond. Kusunoki’s Memories flooded her mind, their presence fleeting but powerful. She finally pulled the hand away, looking at it strangely, as if it had been burned and she wasn’t quite certain how it had happened.

There was absolute silence in the courtyard as the two combatants stood a few feet apart, assessing one another. Ryan finally raised the sword, examining the blade in the bright sunlight.

“What is this sword called?”

Kusunoki glanced at the sword, then back at the girl. “It is a Katana. It is unique in its curved design and the sharpness of its edge.” His attention grew marked. “It also has the peculiar characteristic that, the more beautiful the sword, the more deadly its blade.”

Ryan nodded. “As is true of most of our Kind.”

Kusunoki noted that she made the comment as if excluding herself from the reference, when in truth, she was the personification of it.

Ryan handed him the sword with great care, honoring the blade. “Thank you,” she said simply. She turned and made her way over to Victor, who was still lounging on the fence. From a distance, Kusunoki saw Victor take her hand and examine the palm. Victor dropped the arm, then ruffled Ryan’s blonde hair affectionately. Ryan walked up onto the bridge, leaned over the side and began examining the fish.

Victor leaned back on the fence and turned his gaze on Kusunoki, a knowing look in his eyes. Kusunoki’s misgivings were great. His eyes traveled to the girl, then back to her mentor, his indecision pronounced.

Which would be a worse outcome? Having this One remain unrestrained and internally chaotic?

Kusunoki’s expression grew dark. Or having her wield that power with perfect discipline and control?

Ryan awoke, uncertain if she had been asleep. She glanced down at her feet, which hung over the edge of the small cot she was lying on. She glanced around the room, and the utter sameness of the furnishings added to her disorientation. She wasn’t certain what century it was.

Memories flooded back to her, of her trial, her father’s illness, Susan Ryerson, the Grand Council, and she realized it was in fact the 21
^st
century. She sat up in the bed, listening. Although there was nothing to hear, she knew Kusunoki was out in the courtyard.

Ryan stepped down the wooden steps to the gravel path below. She allowed her feet to crunch this time as she approached her old master. He was finishing his meditations, and he rose with suppleness from his kneeling position.

“How long have I been asleep?”

Kusunoki glanced at the sky. “I believe three weeks have passed.”

Ryan winced. “I hope you won’t pass onto the Council my dereliction of duty.”

“I think you were busy enough in your first few days that they are relieved you disappeared for awhile.” There was neither approval nor disapproval in his voice.

“Has there been any word?”

Kusunoki finished the sentence for her. “About your father? No.”

She glanced over at him. She would not answer, and he would not ask. The matter slipped away from them.

“So what do you think of this ‘cleansing’?”

Kusunoki shrugged. “It is an ancient custom. Quite frankly, I think it is long overdue.”

Ryan glanced at him, surprised, and he explained.

“There are many of our Kind creating inferior offspring. And many of the controls of the past are no longer in place. The world has become so large and so small at the same time.” Ryan waited in silence for him to continue. “Those of us who are far beyond the ability to reproduce must face the consequences of the choices we made hundreds of years ago.”

Ryan nodded her understanding while Kusunoki continued. “Those whom we felt might carry our line with honor failed to do so. Or,” he said, “Perhaps their offspring failed. Or their offspring’s offspring failed.”

“So why don’t you take matters into your own hands?” Ryan asked.

“I could,” he replied. “I could certainly take care of the weaknesses in my own lineage. But I don’t imagine the Others, especially my ‘peers’ would appreciate my exercising that sort of discretion over their own. And it does little good to pull the weeds in your own garden when your neighbor refuses to tend his.”

Ryan realized how complex this situation truly was. “I still don’t understand why I was the chosen one.”

Kusunoki glanced over at her. “I would have chosen you, my only concern being that you had the ability to annihilate generations. I think Marilyn and Ala would have chosen you as well, even though Ala had never met you.”

Ryan looked sideways at him. “And why is that?”

“She likes your father,” Kusunoki said, his emphasis on the verb a bit too pronounced.

“Oh really,” Ryan said dryly. She brought her attention back to his previous words. “So who did make the choice?”

Kusunoki was thoughtful. “It was Aeron, the one who in hindsight appears to have the most to lose by you being named the hunter.”

“Aeron is in love with death,” Ryan said contemptuously. “He may have chosen me just to satisfy his own perverse sense of humor.”

Kusunoki looked sidelong at his pupil, but said nothing.

The two settled into a comfortable silence, which Ryan finally broke.

“You know, the human doctor who examined me discovered that my sleep is more akin to a meditative state than to actual sleep.”

Kusunoki snorted. “Lazy as always. Taking the easy way out and relying on raw talent instead of practice and training.”

Ryan smiled, knowing there was no bite to her master’s words. “So, lazy am I? Perhaps you would like to spar a bit, to see if I have been practicing after all.”

Kusunoki smiled. “I live for the possibility.”

They walked to the wall of the nearest structure where weapons were displayed on wooden pegs. Kusunoki was surprised that Ryan bypassed her preferred Katana for a pair of sais. Kusunoki, too, removed a pair of the forked weapons.

Ryan swung the weapons, as if loosening up and accustoming herself to their feel. Kusunoki was not fooled. She required neither a warm-up nor adjustment to the lethal swords. He assumed a ready stance.

In a flash, Ryan was upon him, the two short swords spinning and arcing so rapidly that they were only a blur. Kusunoki parried, his swords moved as quickly as hers. Had anyone been watching, they would have had only a vague impression of whirling swords, supported by the constant “ting-ting-ting,” of the metal strikes.

Kusunoki went on the attack, bringing the swordplay up a level. The footwork became elaborate, the swords moving so quickly that attack/ counter-attack became meaningless. The battle had transformed into a ballet of deadly grace, the skill transcendent.

The dance shifted, and it was now Ryan who led. The swords moved so quickly they could not be seen, only arcs of light and a constant “tinging” that sounded like a single, prolonged musical note. Kusunoki’s face was expressionless, but he began to give ground, no longer attacking but merely countering defensively. Ryan’s speed and timing went beyond preternatural, as if she were now violating the laws of physics themselves. Apparently quantum mechanics had decided to work on a larger scale and favored only her.

Finally, in a move beautiful in both tactic and execution, Ryan trapped both of Kusunoki’s swords. He had only one option left, and powerfully bent both his wrists. This had the instant effect of shattering all four swords, effectively disarming them both.

Ryan gazed down at the hilt of the sai, all that remained in her hand. “Strike too hard and the sword will break,” she said, repeating ancient words.

Kusunoki nodded. “I see you remember much of what I taught you.”

Ryan dropped the hilt to the ground. “I remember everything you taught me.” She stood upright and bowed deeply.

Kusunoki stood upright as well. “It is I who should bow to you.”

Ryan shook her head. “I may have mastered the physical act of fighting, but I do not have your mental control.”

Kusunoki was silent, knowing what was coming.

“I must ask something of you.”

“What can I give you?” Kusunoki asked quietly.

Ryan appeared to be in some great internal struggle. She finally spoke. “I need your Memories, but I cannot return the gift.”

Kusunoki pondered her words. When he spoke, Ryan was surprised by both his words and by the manner in which he spoke them, for he was no longer speaking to his former pupil but rather to the heir apparent of their Kind.

“Rhian, as powerful as you are, you probably could have taken my Memories. And as compelling as you are, you probably could have seduced them from me.”

Ryan did not speak, so Kusunoki continued. “I know you cannot Share your mind because you hide your father there. And no one, not even me, needs to find him.”

Ryan did not confirm or deny his words.

“I will give you my Memories.”

Ryan still said nothing, simply nodded.

Kusunoki sat in the mediation chamber, his mind prepared. He was utterly still, his eyes closed. A small sword lay across his lap. Ryan sat across from him, also deep in meditation. Their eyes opened simultaneously, knowing the time had arrived.

Ryan stood and moved behind Kusunoki, kneeling. With the solemnity of a religious ceremony, Kusunoki raised the blade of the short sword, then slowly ran it across the skin of his neck, slicing through the jugular vein. Blood began to flow down his side.

Ryan leaned forward and the last coherent thought that Kusunoki had was surprise at how gently her lips covered the wound.

The shock that went through his system, however, was anything but gentle. It was as if lightning had struck the side of his head and went ricocheting through his body, seeking but not finding ground. The agony was intense, but it was also intensely pleasurable. Kusunoki fought to maintain mental control, but for the first time in centuries, also found himself wanting to let go.

Ryan also felt the powerful shock and struggled to reorient herself. Kusunoki’s blood flowed into her, and the lightning began burning a path through her veins as well. Her heart strained under the exertion, momentarily faltering, but that powerful organ responded to one even more powerful as her mind took over for her autonomic nervous system.

Kusunoki felt his own heart falter, but then regain a different rhythm, as if Ryan’s heart were now driving his own, demanding absolute synchronization. It beat harder, faster, an utterly merciless yet wholly benevolent master.

And then her mind touched his.

And the lightning in his head increased in temperature to that of the core of the sun.

Kusunoki felt a pleasure that he had only dreamed about. It was as if the act of Sharing had moved from the physical into the entirely cerebral, as if Ryan were not content to merely take his blood, or even simply his Memories, but wanted his mind itself.

And Kusunoki wanted to give it to her. He briefly considered resistance, but the thought flitted away, given no weight at all. He opened his entire consciousness to her, offering her an unlimited expanse of awareness.