Young Samurai_ The Way of the Sword - Chris Bradford [98]
‘It’s real, it’s real, it’s real…’ stammered Jack, struggling to his feet.
The scorpion attacked, its stinger swishing through the air straight at Jack’s heart.
Jack dived to the right and the barb ricocheted off the rock face behind. It struck again as he rolled across the floor, just managing to avoid its poisoned tip.
Scrambling to his feet, he ran for the gap in the wall, but the scorpion was too quick and blocked his path. The creature, aware it had him trapped, slowly advanced, its pincers crackling and its stinger flicking like a poisoned spear.
Backed up against the rear wall, Jack had nowhere left to hide. He bent down to pick up a rock to defend himself with and there, lying discarded on the floor, was the little paper crane Yori had made for him.
Origami.
Nothing is as it appears.
All of a sudden, he understood that he was in the midst of the Spirit challenge. The High Priest had instructed them to ‘be the master of your mind, rather than being mastered by your mind’.
Whether the scorpion was real or not didn’t matter.
His mind believed it was. And…
Just like a piece of paper can be more than a piece of paper in origami, becoming a crane, a fish or a flower; so a samurai should never underestimate their own potential to bend and fold to life.
Yori’s answer to the origami koan flashed bright and clear like a beacon in Jack’s head. He had to strive to become more than he appeared, to go beyond his natural limits.
Jack roared at the scorpion in defiance.
The creature hesitated a moment.
Then it went for the kill.
Jack roared louder as if he was a lion and struck out with his fist. But it was a fist now armed with the claws of a lion. It batted the scorpion’s tail away and Jack pounced cat-like on to the creature’s back.
The scorpion bucked and reared, but Jack rode it out, driving his claws deep into the creature’s exoskeleton. The scorpion struck wildly with its stinger, Jack dodging from side to side to avoid its poisoned tip.
As it struck yet again, he flung himself on to the creature’s head. At the last possible moment he leapt away. It was too late, though, for the creature to pull back its strike. Its barbed tail sunk deep into its own solitary eye, a single green lidless orb that glowed in the dark.
Blinded, the scorpion whirled in frenzied agony, emitting an unholy high-pitched screech that echoed around the cavern. The scream was then drowned out by the sound of a thunderclap and the fire flared again, as bright as the sun.
The scorpion was gone and Jack was sitting opposite the Mountain Monk, who was throwing incense powder on to his fire, each handful turning the flames a bright purple and sending out heady waves of lavender-scented smoke.
‘Would you like some?’ he asked, handing Jack a cup of lemony liquid.
Jack refused to take it, afraid of what horrors it might unleash.
‘I would advise drinking it,’ the monk insisted. ‘Together with the incense, it counters the effects of the tea.’
Jack did as he was told and within moments he felt his world returning to its normal dimensions.
‘Well?’ asked Jack as the monk began to prepare another pot of water for a brew.
‘Well, what?’ replied the Mountain Monk, bemused.
Jack was becoming irritated with the man’s obtuse attitude. ‘Have I passed?’
‘I don’t know. Did you?’
‘But you set the Spirit challenge, surely you decide.’
‘No. You decided your opponent. To know your fears is to know yourself.’ He put the teapot down and looked Jack in the eye. ‘The key to being a great samurai in peace and war is freedom from fear. If you defeat your nemesis, then you become the master of your fears.’
With a wave of his hand, the monk indicated the way out to Jack. ‘Please, I have to prepare for the next guest.’
Jack gave the monk a bewildered bow then headed for the crack in the wall.
‘Jack-kun,’ called the Mountain Monk just as he reached the hole.
Jack stopped in his tracks, trying to recall when he had told the monk his name.
‘Understand that those who successfully complete the