The Jade City

Chapter 39: Freedom

Morro's POV

I stared at my father's neck, unable to meet his eyes. Unlike his Ninjago counterpart, he didn't have a beard. And somehow, seeing him like this always made me feel like a child.

I wanted to assume he didn't recognize me and had only heard that there was a Shadow Rider in town, but with him I never knew.

"Oh?" I asked in the most indifferent way possible, desperately hoping that there wasn't some extraordinarily small detail about my magicked voice he recognized that would immediately give me away.

Father knew things. Sometimes that was a curse. I'd never been able to get away with a lie in my memory, except, of course, when I possessed people to trick him. Like that crook, Ronin.

He brushed off some dust from his sleeves and brought himself to his full height, staff in hand. I shrunk back on instinct.

We stood for a few seconds. I figured I should do something.

"Good day, sir," I said shakily, then knelt down on one knee and bowed.

Before giving Father a chance to react. I swept my non-kneeling leg out from under him, knocking him to the ground. I barely stopped myself from stumbling backwards, shocked that I was able to pull this off after not attacking him in two years. Before he could see through me via my panicked breathing patterns or whatever, I tore off towards his study.

As soon as I got in, I frantically locked the door and slammed several bookcases against it, then worried that he'd suspect something since I used my powers and there might have been air that escaped through the bottom of the door... then reassured myself that he'd probably assume it was just Shadow Rider shenanigans... right...?

I clutched at my collar, trying to calm my rapid breathing. When I panicked, I got sloppy.

I knew I had to avoid as little direct contact as I could with him in case he'd recognize my fighting style, hence the barricading of the door. This should also delay the inevitable confrontation even if that might make my job harder... I began chewing on my lip, trying to recall where the book was and hoping it wasn't in the pile.

Scouring my brain for any memories of it was proving exceedingly difficult, especially when I heard the lock click. Of course he picked it that fast. The bookcases could only stall him for so long... I rushed into the standing bookshelves and desperately skimmed the names of the volumes, wishing I'd planned this better. There wasn't much time, since I knew Father could only be held back for a few minutes at most.

I felt my hands shaking as I whipped my head left and right, feeling like I really wasn't reading anything. Even if I did eventually come across the book, I'd probably end up looking right past it. I tried to recall the last time I'd seen the book, which wasn't even that long ago. Maybe a month or two. But I couldn't remember anything from that day except for the disgusting chili Cole had made us. Which I found myself missing.

Now really wasn't the time to be thinking useless thoughts.

Blood pulsed through my head, causing it to throb, only making everything worse. It didn't help that the only light source was the one window whose curtains would take too long to remove. I stood in my spot and stared at it for a split second, then hurried over in several paces and ripped them off.

Light streamed in, brightening up the place, though the bookshelves were still shrouded in shadow. I groaned when I realized there wasn't much of a difference in lighting despite my efforts. Frowning, I looked over at the pile of books that had crashed onto the ground and considered rummaging through them in case the object of interest was in there. I hesitated for a second, wanting to slap myself for my impulsive behavior. Of all the information I could've forgotten, I just had to blank out with the most important one.