Her name was Freya and she walked among the stars. The heavens spread out in all directions around her, each star a distant, unique neighbor. She looked in awe as the universe wrapped around her like a blanket. Freya took in a deep, relaxing breath and smiled. Here, in this place of quiet majesty, her worries and stress were all neatly tucked away.
Here, she was happy.
Here, she was safe.
Along with her brother Stone, Freya was a student of the ancient martial art known as Sinanju. The Western world had discovered Kung Fu, Karate and other weak imitations of Sinanju at the end of the last century, but the House of Sinanju had been the greatest assassins alive for the past five thousand years. They had served pharaohs, emperors, and kings.
The Masters of Sinanju were able to accomplish feats that caused most men to describe them as gods. They could dodge bullets, they could punch through solid stone, and they could disappear without a trace. No weapon was a match for their lethal skills.
But every Master had once started as a pupil, and Freya was no exception. The duty of training Freya and her half-brother Stone had fallen to her grandfather, Sunny Joe Roam. Their father, Remo Williams, had become the greatest Master of all, but his employment with CURE had required him to disappear for years at a time.
Freya had learned a great deal in the past five years, but, compared to her father and grandfather, she was still a novice.
As she glided through eternity, she could hear a soft rumble in the distance, followed by the familiar sound of chimes. Though she could see nothing but darkness, she knew that she was moving closer to the source of the sound.
A presence manifested behind her. In an instant, her bliss turned into agony. Everything inside of her told her to flee, but her legs would not move. With great effort, she turned her head to look behind her.
The man she beheld was tall and ancient. His wrinkled skin had a dark blue tint, which made his spectral grin even more eerie. His white hair was long enough to be tied in a knot above his head and still flow to the waist. Though his brocaded robe indicated that he was someone of great importance, Freya knew that he was not human.
The moment that Freya wondered about his identity, the universe whispered his name:
SHIVA
In that moment of revelation, the stars wheeled around her. Freya lost her balance, falling to her hands and knees. She looked up to see that the road she had been walking on was paved with the bones of the people she had killed. The road disappeared beyond the horizon, paved with the bones of the people she would someday kill.
Freya awakened with a start. She sat bolt upright in her bed, trying to process what she had just seen, but the memories evaporated with each breath. Within seconds, all she could remember was a feeling of all-encompassing dread. She closed her eyes for a moment as she steadied her breathing and realized that it was time for training. After washing her face, she tossed on a shirt and some gypsy pants, and walked to the training hut near her grandfather’s house. When she opened the door, she saw Sunny Joe standing near the large stone at the front of the hut, and her brother Stone standing beside a pool table.
“I don’t get it,” Stone said, glancing at the door. “How’d you fit it through the door?”
“That’s a lesson for another day,” Sunny Joe said and then turned toward Freya. Her breathing was shallow, nearly taking her out of her center.
“What’s wrong?”
“I am sorry, grandfather. I had a…a bad dream.”
“Must have been some nightmare,” Sunny Joe said.
Freya could say nothing. No words could express what her mind was trying to grasp.
Sunny Joe could sense nothing physically wrong with her, but she was clearly shaken. He placed his fingernails at the base of her spine.
“Breathe, little one” Sunny Joe said, manipulating her nerves. “Find the power in your breath.”
Freya lowered her head, closed her eyes tightly, and resumed her proper breathing rhythms. Her center re-established itself and her body relaxed.
“Are you up for training today?” Sunny Joe asked.
“I will be, grandfather. Thank you.”
Stone looked at the pool table and then his sister. His curiosity about how a pool table could possibly be a Sinanju lesson could be answered some other time.
“Grandpa, she doesn’t look so good. How about giving her the day off?”
Sunny Joe did not even question the suggestion.
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll give both of you the day off. We will resume tomorrow at dawn,” he said. “Freya, come with me.”
Sunny Joe and Freya walked out.
Stone racked the table, picked up a pool stick, and started to hum “Whistle While You Work.”
Sunny Joe and Freya walked in silence, but Sunny Joe could tell by her body language that Freya wanted to speak. Once they were inside Sunny Joe’s house, Freya seemed to lighten up a bit.
“Something is wrong with me, grandfather.”
“Let me make some tea and we can talk about it,” Sunny Joe said, excusing himself to the kitchen.
He filled an old kettle with water and set it on his stove, listening to Freya’s body rhythms from the other room. Her heartbeat and breathing were still erratic. Her center was holding, but it was fragile.
Sunny Joe grabbed two marble cups and placed a mixture of crushed roots and leaves inside. As he waited for the water to boil, he wondered if it had anything to do with the ‘family curse.’ Though Sunny Joe had never experienced the curse, his father had, and suffered constant nightmares. He would never tell Sunny Joe any details, but he did not have to. Sunny Joe knew his father’s suicide was because of the nightly horrors visited upon him. The week before he died, he awoke each night screaming the name “Shiva!”
Sunny Joe had not told Freya, but he had witnessed the curse begin to manifest in her a few months earlier. Ever since, he had been waiting for the right time to speak to her about it. There never seemed to be an ‘appropriate’ time to tell his granddaughter that a vengeful deity inhabited her soul. Sunny Joe did not look forward to giving Freya the news, but today it seemed that it had finally become necessary.
The kettle began to whistle and Sunny Joe poured the hot water into the cups. He sat the tea on the small coffee table and sat next to Freya. Her breathing steadied somewhat, but her mind was clearly somewhere else.
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” Sunny Joe said, taking a sip of tea.
“I…I am afraid,” she said softly.
“Have you ever heard the name ‘Shiva’?” Sunny Joe asked.
The name triggered a memory. Freya froze, as a sliver of her dream reappeared. She saw a man — was it her father? — drop to his knees in the snow. A ring of fire fell from the sky, encircling him. As he caught fire, he screamed until the heavens split. The fire burned him into ash, before spreading to the ground, across the oceans, until it finally consumed the entire Earth.
“You cannot protect me,” Freya said. “Everything is going to burn.”
Sunny Joe’s eyes opened wide. Those were his father’s last words.
“I don’t know where those words came from,” she said, startled. “I don’t understand what’s happening!”
“This is something normally reserved for later training, but I’m not blind. I’ve had my suspicions for some time. I’ve asked Mick to help,” Sunny Joe suggested.
“Grandfather, I do not wish to speak of this to anyone other than you and Stone.”
“I wouldn’t ask Mick if I didn’t think it was necessary. He knows more about Shiva than anyone, including me.”
Freya lowered her face into her hands and Sunny Joe saw her breathing deteriorate again.
“Ever since you returned from Lakluun, you’ve seemed a little distant. What happened to you over there?”
“I was happy at first,” Freya said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I had become good friends with a girl named Eleanora. She was almost like a sister. But then I met Mother Jaana.”
“Who was she?”
“A witch,” Freya replied. “I know how silly that sounds. At first, I thought she was there to help me, but she did horrible things to the people there. She tried to kill me. I remember that she was trying to steal…something from my soul. But she touched something she couldn’t handle, and she died. I don’t remember much after that, except the Lakluun army attacking me.”
Sunny Joe had not noticed any battle wounds on Freya. It was the first thing he looked for when she had returned home so distraught. But she was in fine health, and even the broken ribs she had before her journey had somehow been healed.
Freya looked into the distance, and her voice grew softer.
“King Hannu was brave,” Freya said, straining to remember. “He ordered his archers to fire, but their shafts burned into dust as they reached me. Even after he knew that he was going to die, the King stood his ground. Grandfather, Shiva killed them all!”
“So, you have seen what Shiva can do.” Sunny Joe let out a low whistle.
“When I…returned to myself, Eleanora blamed me and tried to attack me.” Freya then looked up at Sunny Joe. “She used a basic Sinanju move, grandfather, but I deflected the force behind the blow and saved her.”
“A Sinanju move?” Sunny Joe asked. “Are you sure?” Using other tribes’ arts was strictly prohibited in the Master’s Challenge. “Where is Eleanora now?”
“Gathering her remaining forces, I suppose,” Freya said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. Everything I touch is destroyed!”
Sunny Joe watched the tears flowing from his granddaughter’s eyes.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Sunny Joe promised, detecting the familiar heartbeat of his friend Mick before he stepped on the porch. “But it’s gonna take some time.”
Mick knocked on the door.
“I will be back in a moment,” Freya said, leaving to the bathroom.
Sunny Joe opened the door and welcomed his oldest friend inside. Mick was keeper of the tribal records, which granted him special access to Sunny Joe when needed. Sunny Joe could tell by his heart and rushed breathing that he was nervous about something.
Mick took off his worn cowboy hat and sat on the couch with a small pouch.
“Training ended awful early this morning,” Mick said. “I saw you and Freya heading over and thought we could catch up. How did their trips go?”
Both Freya and Stone had left the reservation to seek out their heritage. Stone left in search of the woman he believed to be his biological mother, and Freya went to Lakluun, the land of her mother’s ancestors.
“Neither one of them found what they were looking for,” Sunny Joe said.
“Do we ever?” Mick asked.
Freya returned from the bathroom looking as if nothing had happened. She forced a smile as she nodded toward Mick.
“Good morning, Mr. Walker.”
“Morning, Freya. When you get some time, I’d like to get your story of Lakluun for the records.”
Freya looked at Sunny Joe, fighting back tears.
“Perhaps some other time, Mr. Walker,” she said, heading toward the door. “Thank you for the tea, Grandfather. I will come back later, and we can continue our…lesson. I need to get some groceries.”
Sunny Joe started to object, but she was already out the door.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Mick leaned forward. “Is she all right?”
“Remember when I told you about the Family Curse? About Shiva?”
Mick shuddered. “Oh, God.”
“Someone tried to kill her, but it took over.”
“How many people died?” Mick asked.
“Sounds like several dozen,” Sunny Joe said.
“After what happened to your Pop, we’re gonna have to keep a close eye on her.”
“She’s not a danger to us, Mick. The thing that worries me is that she said the same thing to me that Pop did before he died. ‘You cannot protect me. Everything is going to burn.’”
“Do I need to take notes?” Mick asked, mindful of his duties to record the actions of the Masters and trainees of Sinanju.
“I want this one off the books for now,” Sunny Joe said.
Mick leaned back in his seat. Sunny Joe could tell that he was upset.
“That ain’t how it’s supposed to work, Sunny Joe.” Mick huffed. “There are too many things ‘off the books’ lately. Pretty soon, there won’t be any books left.”
“We’re both bending the rules,” Sunny Joe said, referring to the secret treatments he had been giving Mick to help offset the cancer that ate at his body.
“Look, we’re both gonna have to start living up to our duties. And if that means you have to stop treating me, so be it.”
“I’m not going to sit by and watch my best friend die because my great-great-great grandfather had a bad idea. Besides, I’m already off the books training Stone and Freya. Heck, some people think just training Freya is heresy.”
“And no offense to her, Sunny Joe, but don’t you think this might be too much?”
“It’s not easy for any of us, Mick. She’s tough. If anything, this will make her stronger.”
“So, what are you gonna do?”
“Do you think if we told Kathleen what was happening, she could talk with Freya?”
“My wife? Why?”
“Kathleen’s helped troubled kids in the past.”
“Sure, but what is she gonna be able to say about Shiva?”
“It’s not just Shiva that Freya needs help with. She has questions that only a woman is going to be able to answer.”
“I’ll ask, but I think this is outside her wheelhouse.”
MickSunny Joe paused for a moment before speaking again. “Do you think I could see the scrolls, Mick? The Shiva scrolls.”
Mick looked at his friend as if he had just asked him to assassinate the President.
“Sunny Joe, I’ll bend rules, but that’s a vow I’m not breaking. That’s where I draw the line.”
“Mick, you know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think I needed them. Freya is…”
“I said that’s where I draw the line, Sunny Joe!” Mick snapped.
He took a deep breath and lowered his face to calm down. “Bill, you can’t just keep asking me to violate every trust I’ve been given. You’re not seeing those scrolls. They’re only for Masters who have experienced Shiva, and you haven’t.”
Sunny Joe took a long sip of tea. Mick could not tell if he was angry or contemplative.
“There’s got to be something we can do, Mick. Freya needs our help.”
Mick looked off in thought and came up with a compromise.
“She’s not a Master, but she went through the Night of the Salt, and she’s experienced Shiva. I suppose I can let her look through the scrolls, but that’s as far as it goes.”
“MickThis is important. I think that Freya can reunite the House and the Tribe.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Mick asked, putting on his cowboy hat. “I’ve always dreamed about visiting the homeland.”Mick
As Mick turned to leave, he caught a whiff of Sunny Joe’s tea. His nose wrinkled. “You know, I think if I had to drink that stuff to be a Master, I think I’d stay untrained.”
“It still tastes better than that swamp rot Doc Hodges is giving you,” Sunny Joe said with a wink.
He was glad to see a smile on Mick’s face.