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I awoke in the arms of my guardian. We were still in the car. I sat up and looked out the window. How much farther? I wondered. I hadn't seen Mr. Irons in almost a year. I wanted him to see how seriously I had taken all my studies. I wanted him to tell me the stories of the Wielders. I wanted him to tell me that I was worthy of the Blade.
"We'll be there soon, Ina. Mr. Irons will be very proud of all that you have done this past year."
I looked at my guardian, not sure how he knew what I was thinking, but happy that he did.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The drive seemed to last hours, but finally, the car turned off the main road onto the long driveway. I craned my neck to look over the front seat and out the glass.
My guardian pulled me back down to sit next to him. "Ina, we'll be there soon enough. Remember what Mr. Irons expects of you."
I nodded. I knew his rules and they were more strict than my guardian's. I would not break them and destroy any chance I had to wear the Blade.
Another eternity seemed to pass for us to drive up to the mansion. Once there, I didn't even have a chance to see it. One servant opened the car door, motioning us to go inside. Another servant held the door open for us. Mr. Irons was waiting for us just inside the door.
Mr. Irons and my guardian shook hands.
"It is good to see you again, Mr. Irons."
Mr. Irons was smiling, but looking at me. "Yes...I believe your brother is in the library. I am sure he would like to see you."
"Of course, Mr. Irons."
The servant who had held the door open led my guardian away.
Mr. Irons head tilted slightly, a gentle smile softening his features. "Ina, my angel, I don't think I have ever seen you look so beautiful."
I smiled. He always told me that the Wielders were beautiful.
Mr. Irons offered his arm. "Come. We will be more comfortable in my study."
I slipped my arm in his, giddy that he treated me like a lady.
"I am told you are doing well in your studies. Tell me about what you have learned."
As he lead me through the house, I told him about the books I had read, the math and science which I loved, and the new training I had begun with the new sensei. I knew not to say too much - he did not approve of that - but I also had to be sure to answer his question to his satisfaction.
We stopped before a large wooden door. He uncoiled my hand from his arm and gave it a quick kiss. "I need to take care of some business. Wait for me in here."
He opened the door. "Ian will keep you company until I return."
I nodded, a little disappointed that he was leaving so soon, but excited because I would meet Ian. I had heard my guardian mention his name a few times, but all my guardian had ever told me was that Mr. Irons was Ian's guardian. Ian must truly be special if Mr. Irons was his guardian.
The room wasn't very large. There were two tall leather chairs in front a large fireplace. On the floor in the center of the room, a boy sat Indian-style flanked by two large dogs. The boy absently petted one of the of dogs. The other dog seemed to be napping. All three looked at me as soon as I stepped into the room.
The dogs wagged their tails but didn't move. They were Mr. Irons' dogs and, of course, would be well-trained. The boy watched me curiously.
I sat across from him and held out my hand. "Are you Ian?"
He shook my hand with a slight grin. "You must be Ina."
I nodded.
He asked, "How long will you be here?"
I shrugged. "I'm not sure. As long as Mr. Irons wants us to be here."
He seemed to think this over. "I hope you can stay for a few days...so we can play."
I knew what he meant. We weren't allowed to play with other children. We were special.
We sat quietly for a few minutes when we heard the door open. Mr. Irons had returned. He took a seat in one of the chairs, crossing his legs. He smiled at us.
"Children, what did you talk about when I was away?"
Ian and I looked at each briefly. We both knew Ian should answer.
"We only introduced ourselves, sir."
That was true, but it was not a complete answer. I wanted to add more, but I knew that if I did we would not be able to play. Mr. Irons focused his attention on Ian.
"Ian, did you know that Ina has started her training with Sensei Yamamoto?"
Ian cocked his head at me, his lips pursing slightly. "You are learning to fight?"
I nodded. Unsure of what say next, I looked at Mr. Irons. He was still smiling, but it was now a crooked smile. I didn't think he was pleased with us. I considered describing my training to Ian or offering to teach him what I had learned but decided that silence was best. When in doubt, stay silent. I had learned that was a good rule to follow when talking to Mr. Irons.
Mr. Irons rubbed his right hand with his left and stood abruptly. "Follow me, children."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ian and I followed Mr. Irons through the house. I only had vague notions of seeing antiques, tapestries and suits of armor. Truthfully, my mind was on Mr. Irons and on Ian. I think Ian was mad at me but I didn't know why. Mr. Irons seemed irritated, but I couldn't think of what Ian or I could have done to upset him.
Mr. Irons finally stopped at a door. I heard a sharp intake of breath from Ian and looked at him curiously. He mouthed three words at me: The Witchblade Room. I watched as Mr. Irons punched a code into a number pad next to the door and led us inside.
The room was large, as large as the ballroom in Mr. Irons' other house. There were no windows and the room was significantly cooler than the rest of the house. Paintings and weapons hung along the walls. At the opposite end of the room, two suits of armor - one European and one Japanese - flanked a glass display case. The only light in the room came from the lamps highlighting the paintings and artifacts.
Ian and I walked slowly through the room, both of us absorbing everything we saw. The paintings were portraits of women warriors throughout the ages. They were the Wielders.
Ian whispered, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"
I was confused by his words. In all the paintings, the woman's face was covered by a hand or hair. What did he mean? Two curved swords caught my eye. I walked over to them. They were mounted on the wall, sharp edge up, and their scabbards similarly mounted below. I had just learned about these from Sensei. They were a Long Sword and its matching Companion Sword. The many shades of polished steel attested to their quality. They were old but had been lovingly cared for. They were beautiful. I felt Ian standing behind me.
I repeated my Sensei's words only now beginning to understand what he meant. "The sword is the soul of the samurai."
Ian looked at me then at the swords again, but soon the next portrait drew his attention.
"Children." Mr. Irons stood by the display case, waiting for us expectantly.
As we approached him, Mr. Irons stepped aside giving us our first look at the Witchblade. It was a gauntlet with sharp, claw-like fingers and a protuberance on the glove just below the knuckles. One small blue stone adorned one end. The gauntlet rested on a shiny piece of red silk which contrasted with its beautiful metal sheen. The protuberance opened like an eyelid revealing a large red stone. The stone seemed to glow from within briefly. Just as quickly, the red stone was hidden away once again. It was ancient, magical, beautiful.
I wished to be worthy of it someday. If not, I knew then I would be just as happy to fight alongside the Wielder.
Mr. Irons said to us, "Only one of you will wear this someday. Ian, if you do not obey me and if you do not excel in your training, it will be her."
Ian gave me this furious, jealous look. And Mr. Irons smiled, the same crooked smile he had before in the study. I understood now that smile meant he was pleased with himself. I understood now Ian was his favorite...his pet project. I was only the 'back-up' plan. I understood now that I had to train and study harder.
Mr Irons sent me back home the next morning.
When Irons ended the fight, I was sure he was disappointed. There was an unspoken understanding between Ian and me. We would not fight dirty, though we were very capable of doing so, and we would not seriously injure each other. It would be pointless; it was not our Way.
Irons looked pensive, but we both knew he was angry. Ian would take the brunt of Irons' wrath; he always did. It was the price he paid for being Irons' favorite. Irons left us in the training room with a reminder not to be late for dinner.
Ian and I walked over to the bench where two folded clean towels and a cooler full of Gatorade waited for us. We were both covered in sweat, clothes and hair soaked. We both gently dabbed ourselves dry, and I had to smile. A moment ago our bodies were taking quite a punishment; now the light touch of the soft cloth was almost too painful to bear - it was an amazing thing. We would be bruised and sore, but we would both heal quickly. We always did.
I opened the cooler. "What flavor would you like?"
Ian seemed confused for a moment. "Does it matter?"
"No." I knew his confusion was an act. You didn't admit preferences; they could too easily be taken away as punishments. I grinned. "It's just us. I won't tell anyone."
"Grape."
I could have guessed that. It was my favorite too. I handed him a bottle and took another for myself.
Ian took a long gulp. "I must apologize for Mr. Irons' request. He...does not understand our way."
I smiled a little, wiping my mouth with the towel. "He understands it, Ian. He just doesn't live by it."
Ian drank again, finishing his bottle. He reached into the cooler and took out another one. He drank half of that one.
He looked at me very seriously and said, "Thank you, Ina, for showing me my weaknesses. I look forward to sparring with you again."