The Son of Thunder

Chapter Three

Above is a sketch I did of Yuanshi.

Lightening dashed to his room. He found his ceremonial robes of white and discarded his black uniform. As soon as he was dressed, he gathered up the sweaty clothes and took them to the jail. With a hiss, he said, "Put these on," and slipped the clothing through the bars.

Yuanshi shot off the ground, his breathing ragged. "Where were you? I thought he was going to kill me. But you were right." He was shaking his head. Little tremors ran through his arms as he sorted through the clothes.

"You must trust me. Hurry."

"Where did you get these clothes from?" examining the pieces.

Lightening rolled his eyes. "I stole them. Does it matter?"

"Stealing is wrong."

"Don't give me a lecture on morals," Lightening snapped. "I rank murder above stealing. If you would prefer to die, by all means, give the clothing back."

Yuanshi blushed, beginning to disrobe. He took the white robe off first, revealing the slip underneath. "The clothing is much too large and it's wet."

"Sweat. That's what you get from the Son's clothing."

"This isn't the Son's actual uniform?" pausing to study the black apparel.

"Yes. Dress and stop asking mundane questions."

"I should leave my underdress on," Yuanshi said.

For modesty's sake, Lightening faced the ceiling and whirled away from him.

"The clothing might sag on me too greatly otherwise."

"Dress. Talk lacks luster."

Clothing rustled. Yuanshi handed Lightening his folded robes. "I'm ready. Now what?"

Lightening very nearly laughed at the ill fit and the entanglement of the headdress. He was glad that he left the hand and foot wraps out. Lightening fixed the folds of the mask, corrected the entire headdress, pulled loose the fabric strips that were supposed to resemble a lion's mane.

"Lightening, do you know the Son of Thunder?"

"Of course."

"Do you like him?"

Lightening grinned. Delicate question. "He is a monster who requires constant managing." He gave the headdress one last touch then, "There. To my room."

"Yes, but how—"

"No mundane questions. Faith. No one will question you in the Son's costume. Walk through the halls. Follow me, but do not speak to me. Your voice will give you away. Under no circumstances are you to speak to Shawna. Nod to her if you see her. Nod to every one of her questions. Don't speak. The scent will assure her that you really are the Son."

"You're good at these details. Do you do this often?"

Lightening had an urge to tell Yuanshi exactly how bad his habits were. "Listen. The Son is never seen with me, so you must follow me as I creep through the shadows."

"Once we're to your room, how will I get out?"

"A secret passage. Enough questions."

Yuanshi stayed close, but took truculent strides, how he imagined the Son walked in his private domain. Lightening ignored Yuanshi's attempts to copy him. He opened his door and ushered Yuanshi inside, then closed the door behind them, checking down the hall in both directions to ensure that no one saw them.