Sophie and Pernelle stood in silence and watched as Josh and the Japanese man climbed onto the dock and disappeared through the tangle of houseboats.

“Nicholas and I are going to ask Prometheus to gift Josh with the Magic of Fire,” Perenelle continued. “But the experience must be new to your brother; he cannot be warned about the Master of Fire.”

Sophie was about to ask why, when the memories suddenly popped into her head. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face: Josh definitely wanted the Magic of Fire, but he was not going to be happy with the process of acquiring it. She nodded. “I won’t tell him anything.”

“Good.”

“Who is Niten?” Sophie asked. The name was unfamiliar to the Witch, and Sophie had been waiting for the opportunity to find out about the Japanese man.

The Sorceress’s green eyes clouded and she raised them to follow the man’s progress. “He is undoubtedly the greatest swordsman in the world-the only humani ever to defeat Scathach in single combat. But if you ask him what he is, he will tell you that he is an artist. And that also is true: his skill with the brush is legendary. Nicholas and I had one of his original bird paintings in our apartment in New York, before Dee burned it to the ground. Niten has traveled this world and the nearby Shadowrealms in search of opponents to fight simply to hone his skills. He was supposed to have been made immortal sometime in the seventeenth century by Benzaiten, who many-including the Witch-believe may even be one of the ancient Great Elders. Niten was also known as Miyamoto Musashi.”

Sophie caught her breath. The names Miyamoto Musashi and now Benzaiten sent dozens of images flickering through her head. She stared at the gently lapping water, and the ripples dissolved into…

Niten, dressed in the exotic armor of a samurai, racing through a dense bamboo forest. Hundreds of snarling beast-faced monsters chased him. Most of the creatures were pink-and blue-skinned, though some were bright red. They were all horned and three-eyed, their mouths filled with savage teeth, their hands tipped with claws. The samurai broke out of the forest and stopped, swaying, on the edge of a sheer cliff that fell away to a raging sea and jagged rocks far below. He whirled to face the monsters, a sword in either hand. Howling savagely, hungrily, the beasts appeared and closed in on the human…

And then Benzaiten appeared.

She rose from the sea behind Niten: tiny, ethereal and beautiful, riding on the back of an enormous pink-scaled dragon. She tapped the dragon on the back of its head with an ornate fan and the creature spread gossamer wings, opened its mouth to reveal hundreds of ragged teeth and a long black forked tongue… and the horned monsters turned and fled into the bamboo.