Chris Blake - Samurai Assassin

“The most popular was called Ulama,” Zuma told him. “Two teams knocked a ball round a court using their hips. The ball was very heavy so the players were always covered in bruises. Though of course it didn’t matter for some of them.”

“Let me guess,” said Tom. “The players were sacrificed after every game, right?”

“Don’t be silly!” Zuma rolled her eyes. “Only the losing team was sacrificed.”

Tom shook his head. He was amazed that Zuma could talk about human sacrifice so calmly. After all, she had narrowly escaped being sacrificed to the rain god, Tlaloc! Though the Aztec god did get his own back by magically trapping her in a drum. And if Tom hadn’t beaten the drum in his dad’s museum, she’d still be locked inside it.

Since then, Tom had been trying to help Zuma win back her freedom by finding six gold coins that Tlaloc had scattered throughout time. They had found one in the American Wild West, but there were five more to collect – and Tom knew Tlaloc wasn’t going to make their challenges easy!

But until the god appeared again, there was time for a game of tennis. And Zuma and Chilli could cause less damage in the garden than they could inside Tom’s house.

“Come on,” he said firmly. “There’s another racquet in the shed. I’ll show you how to play.”

Opening the back door to the garden, Tom blinked in surprise. Seconds ago the sky had been bright and sunny. Now it was pouring with rain!

Zuma nervously peered outside. “Is it Tlaloc?” she asked. The Aztec god usually appeared in a cloud of rain.

“I don’t think so,” replied Tom. “It’s probably just a shower. But we can’t play tennis now. Let’s go inside and play on my computer instead.”

He led the way upstairs, Chilli bounding round his ankles.

“Com-puter?” said Zuma. “What’s that?”

But Tom didn’t get a chance to explain. As he walked into his bedroom, he stopped suddenly, making Zuma walk into his back. Chilli began growling.

“Uh-oh!” said Tom quietly. It was raining inside his bedroom.

Tom and Zuma looked up. The ceiling was covered with dark, swirling clouds. Thunder rumbled and a loud, threatening laugh boomed out.

“Tlaloc!” cried Zuma.

The face of the Aztec god formed in the clouds above them. His skin was as blue as Zuma’s. Eyes bulged out of his feathered head. When Tlaloc opened his mouth, Tom saw two rows of sharp fangs. He gulped. The god looked even angrier than before.

“Tremble, slave – it is indeed Tlaloc!” the god thundered. “Enough games! It is time for your next challenge. And this time you will not be so lucky …”

Before Tom could say anything, Tlaloc’s face disappeared. The rain grew softer, turning into a sparkling mist. Chilli whimpered, and Zuma scooped up the little dog into her arms. As the mist thickened, Tom felt like he was standing on air. He closed his eyes as he travelled down the tunnels of time.

And then, suddenly, Tom felt solid ground beneath his feet.

“Where are we?” Zuma asked.

Nervously, Tom opened his eyes. He never knew where they were going to end up next. This time they were standing on a grassy plain, surrounded by hills. There was no one else in sight. The only sounds were the breeze blowing through the knee-high grass and the chirping of crickets.

Tom shaded his eyes from the hot sun with his hands.

“I’ve no idea,” he said. “All I can see is grass and hills. We could be anywhere.”

“Well, you’re the history expert,” said Zuma. “What about these clothes – are they a clue?”

Tom turned and saw that the Aztec girl’s blue body paint had vanished, revealing her glowing, golden-brown skin. Her feathered headdress had also disappeared and her dark hair was pulled into a tight topknot above her head. She was dressed in a long yellow robe with loose sleeves, tied in place by a wide white belt. Her shoes looked like wooden flip-flops.

“Well? Got any ideas?” she asked.

Tom looked down at himself. He was wearing a similar robe, though his was grey with a black belt. He nodded. “I’ve seen these clothes before, in books. They’re called kimonos. The Japanese wear them. So we must be in Japan.”

Zuma frowned.

“Japan is an island country in the Pacific Ocean,” Tom told her. “We’re a long way from home.”

“Wherever we are, Tlaloc’s gold coin is here somewhere,” said Zuma. “You don’t think it’s hidden in all this grass, do you? We’ll be here forever .”

“And it would be the most boring quest ever,” Tom added.

“It doesn’t sound like Tlaloc’s style, does it?” Zuma said. “He’s much more of a ‘horrible screaming danger’ type of god.”

“Why don’t you ask your necklace?” Tom suggested. “It helped us before.”

Zuma’s necklace had a black pendant with special powers. Last time they had travelled through time, it had given them a riddle with clues to help them find the gold coin.

“Good idea,” said Zuma. She grinned. “I knew there was a reason I let you come along.”

Holding up the black pendant, Zuma chanted:

“ Mirror, mirror, on a chain,

Can you help us? Please explain!

We are lost and must be told

How to find the coins of gold .”

Tom waited, holding his breath. Slowly, silver letters began to emerge on the pendant’s polished surface. They spelled out another riddle:

In the land of warriors, great and old,

A pinch of salt is worth its weight in gold.

The Tiger’s claws will leave a scar;

What keeps you cool may take you far.

Act with honour to impress a lord;

Heroes not thieves will get their reward.

When all is dark make for the light

Beware the masked man who walks in the night.

The two of them stared at the letters in silence. Tom was the first to speak. “I don’t understand,” he said. “What’s salt got to do with anything?”

Zuma flapped her hand to shush him. “Be quiet! I can hear something,” she whispered.

Tom listened closely. Sure enough, there was a thunderous rumble in the distance. It sounded like it was getting closer.

“Oh no, not Tlaloc again,” he groaned.

“It’s not Tlaloc,” said Zuma. “Look – over there!”

Tom’s eyes followed Zuma’s pointing finger. She had spotted a tall teenage boy sprinting down a hill as if his life depended on it.

A few seconds later, Tom saw why.

The noise wasn’t thunder – it was the hooves of galloping horses. A group of horsemen charged over the hill. Their leader saw the running boy and pointed, screaming at the men behind. He urged his sweating horse to go faster. Looking over his shoulder, the boy yelled in fright. The horsemen were gaining on him. He put on a fresh spurt of speed, heading straight for Tom and Zuma.

As the horsemen drew nearer, Tom recognised their armour from an exhibit in his dad’s museum. It belonged to medieval Japanese warriors called samurai. Each warrior wore an iron breastplate, and skirts of overlapping leather protected their legs. Their helmets were decorated with what looked like alien antennae. Strapped to the samurai’s backs were curved swords called katana . In the safety of the museum, Tom had thought the katana looked really cool. Up close they looked like deadly weapons.