Rise of the Ninja by Simon Higgins

Author:Simon Higgins [Higgins, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Juvenile Fiction
ISBN: 9780316081542
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2010-05-20T00:00:00+00:00

22

ENCIRCLED

Moonshadow eyed the lone figure on the walkway. If he overcame that one man, a path to the outer rectangle, and escape, was his.

Moonshadow advanced, darting quickly through the fingers of brightness, creeping watchfully through the bands of grey half-light.

On the walkway ahead, the man paced out of his shadow into a brighter spot. He pulled a short, shinobi-style sword from his belt and began tapping it, still in its scabbard, against one shoulder. Moonshadow studied him.

This one was balding and wiry. Clean-shaven. Hard eyes and a plain black robe. He was smiling, the manner of his walk deceptively casual. Moonshadow’s mouth turned as dry as his lips. This fellow was very dangerous. There was skill in his aura, a cruel edge to his face.

The man looked Moonshadow in the eyes and bowed elegantly. Then his smile vanished. He started feeding his sword back into his belt.

Help me, Mantis, Moonshadow thought. What would you do if facing this opponent? He gave himself a subtle nod. Yes, that was it. Use the enemy’s confidence, his assurance that he’s facing another shinobi and therefore predictable shinobi moves. Be unpredictable.

Moonshadow stepped back into a patch of shadow and hunched low. Keeping his weapon hidden behind his body, he moved it from his back to his hip.

After tying it in place, he looked around.

Three men were sneaking up behind him. Two were uniformed samurai wearing household emblems: a tall fellow and his shorter sidekick. The third man’s numerous tattoos said he was a gangster, no doubt from one of those big-town criminal gangs the Grey Light Order had, at times, infiltrated on behalf of the shogun.

The trio stopped moving. The tattooed one gestured to the lone figure blocking Moonshadow’s path. It was not a polite gesture.

“Come on, Akira!” The gangster was playfully irritated. “Stop dragging it out. Get on with killing him; otherwise I will take the first turn.” His voice dropped. “I still say it was rigged. We should have used my dice.”

Moonshadow looked the complainer over. Many gangsters shaved their heads, but this one had long tangled hair, a messy beard, and a droopy moustache. His loudly patterned jacket bragged that he was proud to be an outlaw. Moonshadow was glancing at the man’s forearm tattoos, red-green carps and dragons, when he realized that the gangster was holding a shuriken in each hand. Moonshadow set his jaw. This was no mere thug!

As he turned back to check on the man blocking his way, Moonshadow found the opponent creeping silently up to the edge of the shadow, one hand gliding to his sword’s grip. He was dangerous all right. Moonshadow nodded. He was clearly good. He could move without a sound! But how well would he handle… this?

Lunging at his enemy but staying just inside the shadow, Moonshadow drew his sword from the hip, duelist style.

The smallest fingers of his right hand pressed into the weapon’s grip, tensing the blade as its tip was about to clear the mouth of the scabbard. As

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