The Ring of Earth - Chris Bradford [39]
Jack was relieved at the Shonin’s decision, though he knew Miyuki wouldn’t be thrilled at his continued presence and would most certainly try to make his life with the ninja as uncomfortable as possible.
‘Follow me. It’s time we perfected your stealth-walking,’ said Soke, leading Jack back inside the house.
Laid out across the floor of the doma were long sheets of thin rice paper. They stretched from the doorway to the raised wooden floor and had been dampened with water.
‘Your task is to cross the room without tearing the paper.’
Jack didn’t think this was possible – the sheets looked awfully fragile.
‘You’ll need to master uki-ashi,’ explained Soke. ‘Floating feet technique.’
The Grandmaster stepped on to the paper with his tiptoes and very gently lowered his feet. ‘Imagine each step is as light as a feather.’
Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The Grandmaster appeared to almost hover above the paper’s surface. As Soke crossed the room, he didn’t leave a single mark or footstep. To the untrained eye, it looked like magic.
‘Now you try,’ said Soke, mounting the raised wooden floor to observe his student.
Taking a breath, Jack carefully placed his toes down on the paper just as the Grandmaster had. So far, so good. Lowering the sole of his foot to the ground, he took a second step. But when he lifted his back foot, he heard the undeniable rip of paper.
‘Call upon the Ring of Wind,’ Soke advised. ‘Float, don’t walk.’
Jack tried again, summoning up feelings of lightness and imagining he was a feather. His balance was much improved from all the paddy-field practice, but still his feet tore the rice paper every time.
At that moment the door opened and Hanzo, hot and out of breath, charged in.
‘Floating feet!’ he cried. ‘I love this!’
Kicking off his sandals, he joined Jack in the task. ‘Bet I can reach the other side before you do, tengu!’
‘It’s not a race, Hanzo,’ chided Soke gently. ‘If you’re not careful, one day your impetuosity will be your downfall.’
As if to prove Soke’s point, there was a sound of tearing as Hanzo tried to overtake Jack.
‘It’s only a little rip,’ defended Hanzo, bringing his thumb and forefinger close together to show how insignificant it was.
Soke shook his head. ‘A tear is a tear. Even the slightest error of judgement can ruin a mission. Remember that. Your life may depend upon it.’
‘Yes, Soke,’ replied Hanzo, abashed.
‘Uki-ashi takes patience to perfect,’ instructed Soke. ‘But once you master it, you’ll be able to cross any surface without making a sound.’
‘Even a Nightingale Floor?’ Jack asked.
Two years ago, daimyo Takatomi, the lord of Kyoto Province, had invited Jack to his castle and demonstrated this remarkable security feature for preventing an assassination – a wooden floor constructed on metal hinges that trilled like a bird with the pressure of a single foot. No one could walk across it without alerting the guards – supposedly, not even a ninja.
‘That is the most challenging of crossings to train for,’ admitted Soke. ‘I know of only one man who has achieved such a feat.’
‘Will you show me how, Grandfather?’ asked Hanzo eagerly.
‘When you’re able to steal the pillow from beneath my sleeping head, then you’ll have truly mastered uki-ashi. And only then will you have the necessary skill to cross a Nightingale Floor.’
Giving the boy an affectionate pat on the head, Soke settled himself in front of the hearth and started the fire for dinner.
Hanzo glanced up at Jack, frustration etched across his face.
‘It’s impossible,’ complained Hanzo under his breath. ‘I’ve tried, but he always wakes up!’
22
SHURIKEN
‘How’s the shakuhachi playing coming along?’ enquired Soke.
Jack looked up from his breakfast of rice, miso soup, pickles and broiled fish. He’d virtually forgotten the taste of barley bread, butter and cheese that formed the staple ingredients