Katana at Super Hero High Read online

  Beast Boy looked stricken. “I didn’t know!” he insisted. “There was this weird brown door open upstairs. I could smell the cake—so I turned into a bloodhound and came down here sniffing for it. When I found this cake just sitting there, I took a piece. Then I got lost trying to get back. That’s when I began following the flower petals.”

  “Mine,” Poison Ivy said modestly.

  “Beast Boy, show us where you found the cake,” Batgirl said. “And hurry. Katana’s life may depend on it.”

  “I can try to remember,” Beast Boy said. “But it’s like a maze down here!”

  As they made their way down the ever-darkening and narrowing passageways, Miss Martian suddenly touched her hand to her temple. Her eyes popped open wide and she pointed into the darkness. “I’m sensing someone’s thoughts,” Miss Martian said. Her voice was strong. “Oh no! It’s Katana, she’s…”

  wo Hours Earlier…

  “That looks amazing!” Katana said to Steve Trevor. He was proudly holding up a gorgeous, towering purple-and-black cake. “I especially like the yellow Batgirl logo on the top.”

  “Thank you,” Steve said, beaming. “It’s spun sugar. I’m not going to tell you how many I had to make before I got one that was perfect! Um, will Wonder Woman be at the party?”

  Katana had volunteered to pick up the cake for Batgirl’s Hero of the Month party. Steve had a crush on one of her best friends, Wonder Woman, and Katana often teased the two of them. Even though Steve was not a super hero, Wonder Woman had been convinced he was, because whenever they smiled at each other, she felt weak in the knees.

  Steve was one of the good guys, unlike some of the Carmine Anderson Day School boys who sat in the middle of the café, flinging food and lasers and icicles at each other—and anyone who even looked in their direction. There was a reason the school’s name had been shortened to CAD (Criminals and Delinquents) Academy.

  “I’ll make sure Wonder Woman knows you made this!” Katana assured him. She ducked when Captain Cold tried to freeze her. Then when he lobbed an icicle at her, Katana held the cake up high above her head with one hand, and with the other hand used her sword to deflect the ice, slicing it into cubes that fell neatly into a nearby table’s glasses of strawberry lemonade.

  “You’ve got to do better than that if you want to catch me off guard,” Katana chided Captain Cold. She picked up a coaster and threw it like a ninja star. It sliced through the air before knocking his hamburger out of his hand and into his lap.

  He glared at Katana while his friends doubled over with laughter.

  She smiled. It was fun putting bullies in their place.

  Not wanting to be late, Katana headed straight back to school. Wonder Woman and Bumblebee were in charge of the other snacks and decorations. Poison Ivy was handling the flowers, of course. But the cake was to be the centerpiece of the celebration! Katana couldn’t wait. Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved parties. She remembered how her grandmother could turn even a boring meal for two into a fabulous party by telling stories, and singing, and smiling so bright that she lit up the room.

  On the way back to Super Hero High, Katana was practically dancing, doing kicks and fighting imaginary enemies to protect the cake. Steve had outdone himself! The cake was gorgeous. Batgirl was going to be so surprised!

  As she neared Super Hero High’s iconic Amethyst Tower, Katana felt a strange sensation wash over her. Was it her lunch, she wondered? Sometimes the ambrosia salad did that to her, especially if it was heavy on the maraschino cherries. Katana loved maraschino cherries.

  No, no. It was something else. An unsettling feeling nested in the pit of her stomach. As she headed inside toward the Bat-Bunker to join the party, Katana passed a small doorway near the dining hall. Why had she never noticed it before? The small sturdy door looked out of place in the new and shiny halls of Super Hero High. A sign in Parasite’s messy handwriting warned, Keep out. And as if an afterthought were the words Or else, followed by That means you. I am serious.

  Curious, Katana tried the rusted doorknob. It wasn’t locked! The door swung open easily. Knowing she needed to get the cake to the party, Katana reminded herself to come back later to check it out. But then something or someone silently beckoned.

  “Katana…” She thought she heard her name in whispers. “Katana…”

  What was it?

  What was happening?

  Katana became distracted, forgetting that everyone was waiting for her. Still carrying the cake, she ventured through the doorway. A salty cool breeze blew back her long black hair as she squinted, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Along the corridor barely lit lightbulbs flickered, throwing off smidgens of light and shadow. Though the passageways weaved, sometimes in circles, Katana set out as if she knew where she was headed—as if she was being drawn to whereabouts unknown.

  At last, with her heart racing, Katana faced a heavy metal door covered in rust and barnacles. It was bolted shut with a dozen locks. The salty scent in the air was even thicker. Katana set the cake down. It was still in pristine condition.

  The locks were puzzles unto themselves. Katana removed a red-lacquered hairstick from her hair. Then she set to work. With practiced precision, she inserted the stick into each lock, twisting, listening, releasing, opening. She had always been good at mazes and puzzles. At last, the final lock popped open. By now, Katana’s hands were starting to tremble. Her heart was racing. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing under the school, but something kept propelling her forward.

  Katana took a deep breath to calm herself, then pushed hard against the heavy door. It swung as if welcoming her. She stepped inside, her sword drawn and the cake left behind. The wide corridor was dark, with only a pin of light in the distance. Katana walked along a narrow ledge before jumping down into a passageway that looked like an endless tunnel. A cool breeze washed over her. She stood still, welcoming the calm. But it wasn’t to remain that way for long.

  Katana heard it first before she could see it. A giant whooshing sound, growing louder with each heartbeat. Even though Captain Cold was nowhere near, Katana stood frozen, not believing what was headed straight at her.

  A tall wall of black water was barreling down the tunnel. Laden with silver shards, it glistened, blinding Katana yet mesmerizing her at the same time. As the water threatened to engulf her, Katana tried to call out for help—but even if she could have screamed, who would hear her so deep in the tunnels under Super Hero High?

  he water threatened to hit Katana hard. She had seen waves like this only once before, when a tsunami had almost devastated her small seaside village. There was no time to escape. Katana braced herself. From her training she knew how to stand strong, yet bend with the forces coming at her. She gasped as the cold water almost knocked her over, then spun into a vortex of black and silver. At once afraid and intrigued as the water continued to circle, Katana watched in horror as it rose higher, up to her waist, glistening with what looked like sharp silver blades.

  Yet it was as if Katana had a seal of protection around her. The waves were starting to settle; the blades did not touch her. Instead, they surrounded her but stayed inches away. So focused was she that Katana did not hear the cries.

  “Look! It’s the cake!”

  “She must be nearby!”

  “Katana? Katana, where are you, we’re coming!”

  “Katana!” Batgirl called out from the ledge that ran alongside the tunnel of water. “Are you okay?”

  Katana looked up, surprised to find her friends gaping at her with shock on their faces.

  “Don’t come any closer!” Katana warned. “Blades,” she added by way of explanation.

  Everyone stared as the water slowed to a stop. Katana could feel her heart racing as the blades twirled with graceful danger around her.

  “Could they be…? They look like…But that doesn’t make any sense….” Gingerly, she reached for one and pulled it out of the water. As she held the blade aloft,
the others glanced at one another, unsure what to make of it.

  “They’re swords!” Poison Ivy exclaimed. “Katana, you are surrounded by swords.”

  These were not just any swords. No, the swords that circled Katana were elaborate, with handles carved from teak and gold. Precious stones and metals adorned some of them, and each one was different—a masterpiece unto itself.

  Still wary of making any fast moves, Katana looked up at a green seagull flying above. It was Beast Boy. “Look there,” he said, motioning to a sword that had floated peacefully to the surface of the water. A conch shell was balanced perfectly on the sword’s blade.

  Katana leaned over and picked up the shell, studying it. Something about it was familiar. When she was younger, she used to walk the beach near Tottori, the coastal prefecture where her family resided. She loved collecting seashells—scallops, a nautilus or two, and sometimes starfish.

  In the palm of her hand, the shining conch shell reminded Katana of the top of a swirly soft-serve ice cream cone. There were layers of delicate pink and brown on the outside and a rim of bumps around it. Inside, it seemed to glow an orange-red. Though smaller than the ones she had collected as a girl, this one was still beautiful and majestic. Katana’s own conch shell collection sat on her dresser back home. Her grandmother used to say, “These shells were once homes for ocean snails. But when the snails move on, the conch shells remain, collecting stories, memories, and treasures. However, one must listen carefully to the conch shell to learn its secrets.”

  “Listen carefully,” Miss Martian said.

  “What?” Katana asked. She hadn’t even noticed Miss Martian hiding behind Supergirl.

  “Listen to the shell,” Miss Martian continued. Her eyes were closed. “It wants to tell you something.”

  Poison Ivy and Supergirl glanced at each other. Miss Martian seemed to be on the same wavelength as Katana.

  Katana raised the shell to her ear. She heard nothing—not even the quiet, hollow hum one would normally hear in a shell. As she was about to set it down, Miss Martian urged her, “Listen to the shell!”

  Embarrassed by her outburst, Miss Martian slowly began to fade until she had disappeared completely.

  Seagull Beast Boy landed on Supergirl’s shoulder. “Well, that was weird,” he noted. He pulled on her hair with his beak.

  “Shoo!” Supergirl said, brushing him off.

  Batgirl said to Katana, “I think you should try to listen to the shell again.”

  Katana nodded and lifted it to her ear once again. Everyone was silent. Even Beast Boy.

  Katana’s eyes widened. The shell began to whisper in her ear.

  “It makes no sense,” Katana said, listening closely. “It’s some sort of riddle, I think.”

  “What did you hear?” Supergirl asked.

  “It said:

  These Samurai swords

  Entrusted to Katana

  The story unfolds.”

  “Who was talking?” Beast Boy asked.

  “Was it a male or female voice?” Batgirl added.

  “I really couldn’t tell.” Katana shook her head. “It was soft and I had to listen closely to catch it. This may sound weird, but it’s as if the ocean were speaking to me.”

  “That’s crazy!” Beast Boy said. “And totally cool. I want to talk to the ocean!”

  “You can talk to the ocean anytime,” Supergirl pointed out. “But getting it to talk back to you is more difficult.”

  Poison Ivy remarked, “The shell said ‘the story unfolds.’ What story would that be?”

  “Why are the swords entrusted to me?” Katana wondered out loud. Still in the water, she slowly waded toward the others, careful to avoid the swords. “Batgirl, what do you think?”

  Batgirl leaned down from the dry ledge and took the shell from Katana. “This really is a mystery,” she said, taking photos and then X-raying the shell using the micro-tools from her Utility Belt.

  “Careful, don’t break them!” Katana called out to Supergirl. She was flying above the water, fishing the swords out and handing them to Poison Ivy to stack alongside the ledge so Batgirl could catalog each one.

  “We can’t just leave them in the water,” Batgirl said.

  Katana added, “I don’t know what kind of shape they’re in. They look like antiques.”

  Beast Boy carried in what was left of Batgirl’s cake and sat cross-legged on the ledge in the form of a bear cub. “There must be three thousand swords here!”

  “One hundred,” Batgirl corrected him as the last one was pulled out of the water. “There are one hundred swords.”

  “I have to protect them,” Katana said to no one in particular.

  “From what?” Beast Boy asked, licking cake from his green paw.

  “The conch shell is trying to tell me something,” Katana continued.

  These Samurai swords

  Entrusted to Katana

  The story unfolds.

  “It’s a haiku,” she explained.

  “A high-who?” Beast Boy asked through a mouthful of cake. “Hey, Batgirl, want some of your cake? It’s delish!”

  “Haiku! Of course,” Batgirl chimed in. “A haiku,” she explained to Beast Boy, “is a three-line poem with seventeen syllables.”

  Katana was studying the swords. “We need to find a clean, dry place to store these,” she said. “I have no idea how long they’ve been in the water, and the moisture in this tunnel might rust them.”

  “Katana’s right,” Batgirl said. “We should put the swords someplace safe. Supergirl, check out this map. There should be a sealed room two levels up and to the southwest.” Before she could finish asking “Can you go check it out?” Supergirl had gone and come back.

  “It’s perfect,” Supergirl reported. “I’ve unsealed the room and cleaned it up. Now all we have to do is move the swords.”

  —

  It didn’t take long to get the swords safely in place. Katana gave them one last look before Batgirl secured a lock on the door, “Just in case,” she said. “We’ll keep them secure until we figure out why they’re here and who they belong to.”

  Thanks to Poison Ivy’s trail of petals, the Supers headed out of the darkened corridors and back to the dorms.

  “Katana!” Hawkgirl and The Flash cried out when the group finally entered the Bat-Bunker. “You’re safe!”

  Katana offered her a subtle smile. “I’m safe!” she said, hoping that was the truth. The caverns, the wall of water, the swords…what did they mean?

  “Hey! Where have you all been?” Harley asked, looking miffed.

  “Cake, anyone?” Beast Boy offered up what was left. He patted his belly. “Oh man, why did you let me eat so much?” he said to Supergirl.

  “I didn’t—” Supergirl started to say.

  “So where have you been?” Harley demanded. She turned on her video camera. “Everyone was looking for you!”

  “You’re not going to believe this, but—” Beast Boy began.

  “We were playing hide-and-seek!” Katana said, cutting him off.

  “Aww,” Harley cried. “I’m so good at that—next time invite me!”

  “But, we weren’t—” Beast Boy started to protest.

  Katana pulled him aside. “This is a real mystery. Let’s keep it our secret for the moment. Until we know more, it will be easier to keep the swords safe if only we know about it. And besides, we still have a Hero of the Month to celebrate!” Katana said, smiling at Batgirl.

  hat night, Katana panicked as an ocean of water washed over her. She sat up gasping for breath, then realized that she had woken up in a cold sweat. Katana tried to calm herself as she had learned to do when she was young. It had been ages since she had had this nightmare.

  In it, her grandmother, Onna-bugeisha Yamashiro, had disappeared. As much as Katana begged and pleaded, no one would tell her what had happened to her grandmother. Not her mother. Not her father. No one would say a word. So Katana set out to find out on her own.
As she searched the mountains and the deserts and the oceans of her dream, Katana sensed that someone—or something—was chasing her, getting closer and closer, and just as it was about to grab her, she’d wake up screaming.

  “Are you okay?” a worried voice asked.

  Katana was surprised to find Bumblebee flying over her in her pajamas. “I’m fine,” Katana said, embarrassed. “Just a bad dream.” She yawned and stretched her arms. “Sorry to wake you. Oh wow, I’m tired. I’d better get back to sleep.”

  “Okay,” Bumblebee said, rubbing her eyes. “Just wanted to make sure everything was all right.”

  “Everything’s great,” Katana said, stretching her arms over her head again. “Oh, I’m so sleepy! Good night.”

  When she was sure Bumblebee was gone, Katana opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. Quiet filled the room. Though her grandmother had been gone for several years, Katana missed her now more than ever. Onna would have been able to talk to her about the mysterious haiku.

  Liberty Belle looked splendid in her new hat. It was a scale replica of the Liberty Bell from Independence Hall, although fellow teacher Crazy Quilt had insisted on mending the crack in it. Katana, whom many considered a cutting-edge dresser, had always admired her history teacher’s style.

  On the walls were posters of the larger-than-life super hero battles, like War of the Gods and Reign of the Supermen, and holographic photos of famous super heroes from history, including some teachers who currently taught at Super Hero High, like Doc Magnus, who understood more about robotics than anyone in the known solar system.

  Beast Boy nudged Bumblebee, who was sitting in front of him. “What?” she whispered.

  “Buzz buzz,” Beast Boy said.

  “Buzz buzz, what?” Bumblebee asked, confused.

  “Buzz off!” he said, laughing at his own joke.

  “That’s not funny,” Big Barda whispered loudly, poking him with her Mega Rod.