The 9th Fortress

down through Bludgeon's neck, Kat flung the weapon out of the hole.

'That won't get me what I want,' he said, stepping away. 'His fate is in your hands Fox.'

Kat's words sent a chill down my spine. There was, after all, only one way to deal with a wild animal. I searched Bludgeon's pigheaded face for a shred of remorse, or hint of conscience for his treatment of prisoner and pupil. There was none. How could I allow a creature like this to live? I could because I wasn't Bludgeon and I was not Kat.

I threw down my sword, clenched a fist and slammed it across that un-remorseful face — breaking the master's nose with a sickening crack. Bludgeon slumped away, nose-dripping blood into the clear pools of dragon snot. He crawled until pulling himself up on the first stair, and there the blood ran profusely, turning his beard red. Surprisingly, he didn't appear embarrassed or shameful — he was in-fact, content in defeat.

'You have completed the last exercise,' he said, panting and smiling proudly. 'You are now… a very dangerous man.'

13. The Black Angels

Two days later the three of us stood on the golden seal upstairs, facing a blizzard outside. Kat was restored in red armor, katana and wakizashi swords. That dress gave him more than warmth and protection — it returned pride, what honour he had and a strange aura of indestructibility. I was dressed in my jeans and fleece, boots, dagger with belt around the waist. These old clothes were too big for the slimmer man I had become, but they were better than any tarpaulin sheet.

'Kat,' said Bludgeon, looking down on the short samurai. 'You will cross the western ocean… and you will need this.' He placed an elementary looking flute in Kat's palm. 'Set east over the Macro tops,' he added. 'Six days time you will come across Atlas.'

'The Weather-Maker,' I said, keenly recalling my readings at the dinner table. The Distinct Earth was a Godless realm — nature, control of the winds and seas were at the hands of the Weather-Makers; mammals, immortal and illusive.

'How do I catch the creature?' asked Kat.

'You do not catch Atlas!' Bludgeon tittered. 'You tame her by playing that instrument. Play well samurai and her wings will see you safely across the sea.'

Kat tucked the flute inside his armor then — 'Samurai!' Bludgeon stressed, snatching hold of his wrist. 'Atlas is only to be used for the purpose of crossing the ocean — she does not belong to you, understand?'

Kat did not appreciate the hand on him, his steely-eyed squint made that clear enough.

'We understand!' I interrupted, breaking any tension. 'We will only use the Weather-Maker for that single purpose.'

Content, Bludgeon removed his grip from Kat and finished what else he had to say.

'After crossing the ocean you will arrive at the white beach; there you will meet Harmony Valour. Harmony will be your guide to Hell's entrance, preferably one close to the 9^thFortress.'

'How will I know her?' said Kat.

'Couldn't miss her!' he chuckled back; 'there is not a soul in the Distinct Earth like Miss Valour. She is very special indeed.'

Kat didn't pry, and didn't waste time crossing the seal and out to the snow, leaving Bludgeon and me to our farewells. I was torn. These last forty-eight hours I had seen much kindness from the master. The centaur was an altogether different beast, showing compassion and going to any lengths to make the remainder of our stay comfortable. He cooked a very delicious meal then washed every dirty dish; he amused us with anecdotes at dinner before sending us off to sleep in warm beds. He was spic and span in appearance, with not one beastie seen crawling through his coat. Constant light filled his cave and removed any sense of claustrophobia; and in that light I saw grand portraits of Bludgeon's ancestors — Bettersbay, who fought for centaur rights; Chiron, the noblest of all centaur's whose disciples included Hercules, Achilles and Jason, Captain of the Argonauts. These faces hung proud on walls I previously could not see for the dark. It was as if Bludgeon manipulated light and personality for the spell of training only.

I enjoyed these two days immensely and got the impression Bludgeon did too. I didn't despise him anymore, but I was glad to be leaving him.

'My methods,' he said, placing his hand on my neck, 'were harsh this time. I assure you methods are not the man; I adapt according to the pupil. I am not proud of myself, but this time, with this pupil, methods needed severity for him to survive where he is going. This is only one test you have passed Daniel — there will be more. But you now have strong foundations to withstand such trials.'

I wanted Bludgeon to repeat everything he had said, a foreign language that sounded like remorse, an apology, and my first name.

'You will need these.' he continued, passing me a shield that lay against the marble walls. It was a mirror of gleaming silver with the centaur's seal embossed on the front — Bludgeon riding the back of a fire breathing Seppuku. 'As the seal defends my home,' he said, 'so this shield will protect you from danger.'

I gazed into the beautiful shield at my ugly reflection. Bludgeon then disturbed my thoughts with another gift — a short sword with a wide and sharp blade. 'This one isn't rusty,' he grinned, passing it over. 'This sword, Daniel… will bring light to the dark; and you can use the blade more than once.'

He gave a sly nod to the dagger at my side. Taken aback, I assumed only Sir Isaac Newton and Missy knew of the power my plain dagger possessed — the only weapon that can destroy the soul.

'You knew everything about me, right?' I said. 'It was all in the plan, wasn't it?'

Bludgeon shook my hand with a painful grip; the centaur never did know his own strength, ”One last thing,' he said, leaning closer. 'You have read my book — Predators of the Under Realms?'

'Not all, Sir, you threw it on the fire before I could finish, but what I did read was very interesting. Your books taught me a lot.'

'There was information in that book Daniel, a torn out section detailing one monster in particular.'

'What monster?'

'Well, did you know… that the eyes of a wizard will reveal his secret?'

I stared blankly back, and with no idea of what he meant, I nodded as if I did. A brief moment later, enough to put the shield on my back and the sword in its sheath, Bludgeon disappeared down the many hundreds of steps, the torch on the wall puffing out behind him.

'Mast — Bludgeon?!'

He was gone. I whispered him a goodbye then ran to join Kat. The samurai leant against rock, watching me leave the corridor then drop to embrace the snow.

'Fox!' he exclaimed, embarrassed.

I raised my face, smiling as I collected two balls of puffy snow in each hand.

'Hard stone for two years Kat! Two long years! Come feel! I need to kiss it.'

Kat glanced at the virgin snow by his feet. If he wanted to get on his knees and smother it in kisses, then he kept it to himself.

'East!' he grunted, once again leading the way over white peaks — six days to the Weather-Maker.

***

Three gruelling days were spent trekking over the mountains — another three would see us reach our goal. We stuck to the tried and tested routine of rope — the samurai leading with me harnessed and harassed five feet behind. This was actually a compliment. The rope method demanded that the strongest go behind to prevent a slip from becoming a fall, and if a gaunt Kat was unexpectedly sucked into some crevice then my grip and my strength would be the thing to save us. He may have confidence in my physical abilities, but the samurai was still the one in charge; the man of experience, me far from equal in Japanese eyes.

One thing that had certainly changed between us was a hint of respect I felt come my way; a subtle improvement, which for me, for now, was enough.

We scaled head-spinning heights during the day, the altitude attacking my body with aches and migraines, lethargic to the point of collapse. Kat meanwhile was stalwartly consistent. Before sunset, we descended to recover