Title: Range Guides Beginning (A crossover and AU story between Kung Fu: The Legend Continues and Deathsport, a movie that starred David Carradine as Kaz Oshay)

Characters: Kwai Chang Caine, Peter Caine, Kaz Oshay, Matthew, a Shaolin monk of the future, along with two others, Oshay (Kaz's Mother-in flashbacks), Ankar Moore (in flashbacks), an unknown assailant, Bon Bon Hei, appearances from the 101st gang, Peter's class of students.

Warnings: Some Violence

Story: It is the year 3000, Kaz Oshay, a Range Guide, learns the truth of who he is and his common ancestry to the legendary Shaolin. He is drawn back to the 20th Century to prevent a death that could set off a chain reaction resulting in the deaths of two men whose descendents were the beginning of the Range Guides and the continuing existance of the Shaolin. Will Kaz make it in time or will Kaz reveal his presence and come face-to-face with the very enemy that is stalking the Caine line?

(Even though this sounds like the episode First Temple, there is more here than meets the eye. To understand who the Range Guides are, see the movie Deathsport. It can be acquired through Amazon.com)

Author: Alisa Joaquin

Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed excepted those created by me. All other characters (from KF:TLC and we know who they are) are property of Warner Brothers. Kaz Oshay was created by Roger Corman from Deathsport. I promise to give them back when I am done with them (of course I do not know how long that will be.)

I give permission to archive

Authors Note: This story is an experiement. It is the first time I had written a cross over involving another whole set of characters. Kaz Oshay was created by Roger Corman. All other characters within the year 3000 are mine. Though you may have read the prolog before, it has been updated and edited to read more smoothly. I hope this story peaks your interest.

It is the year 3000. The world as we knew it was no longer in existence. In the year 2040, the first of many devastating wars broke out lasting over the course of 600 of years. After another 360 years had passed, the world was still filled with scars of destruction. The governments of old were gone. Industry was nearly wiped out except in small isolated areas. What remained of religion soon faded into obscurity. Whole cultures had disappeared in the blink of an eye, never to be reborn. Even the land itself had not remained unchanged. Where there had been rich lush forests, much had been reduced to desert. Water supplies dried up. What fresh water remained became a commodity that many would kill for. Harsh winds would rise up as quickly as a flash, carrying with them debris like a great sandstorm, the kind of wind that could strip a man's bones. And the most who had been affected by these changes was man

Some that survived mutated over time as a result of the radiation that had been left behind. They became sensitive to the life-giving rays of the Sun and turned to living in caves. Their eyes enlarged and their damaged vocal cords no longer supported the power of speech. What radiation remained in their bodies became a poison to others that they would use to hunt humans to feed upon their flesh to survive.

Others who had not been affected by the radiation tried to rebuild some kind of society with whatever means they could, more out of fear than trying to recover what had been lost. Within the isolated areas of existing industry rose city-states. Huge fortresses some covered with glass domes, while others were built with giant walls of stone that could contain whole populations. Some tried to build with peace, while others continued to make war, fighting over fuel or other supplies to survive. Each city developed it's own form of government. The people within these city-states became known as Statemen.

Between the city-states roamed a third group of men and women who was different. They belonged to no one, not mutants or Statemen. They followed another code, to help others, to protect the innocent, to live in harmony with the land, and to heal those in need, especially their own. They remained fiercely independent but continued to protect and serve others. Like the knights of old, they carried swords and chose to ride horses. They were fierce warriors, defending all whom asked for their help, guiding those that needed to travel from city-state to city-state. They wandered the land, living a nomadic life, held only by the allegiance to their code. They were called Range Guides.

The history of the Guides was not well known. Some said they came from the ancient Shaolin, a religious order dedicated to helping others any way they could, especially through their knowledge of healing. Others thought the Range Guides had come from the old mercenaries because of their warrior-like ways. In truth, they had taken their way of life from both, the two became as one, and out of that union the Range Guides were formed. Only a few were privileged to know the truth and only those with the most powerful of gifts.

The Range Guide, Oshay, had been one of the most powerful of the Guides. Her abilities were legend. She could sense when a flash wind was about to happen days in advance. It was said her healing gifts were the most powerful. Not only could she heal broken flesh, it was said she could heal broken bone as well. Her knowledge was the most extensive. What knowledge she had possessed, however, had been lost when she was killed by another, a renegade Range Guide called Ankar Moore. Her son, Kaz, would have been the privileged one to receive that knowledge if it had not been for her death.

Kaz Oshay learned of her death from Denere, another Guide, soon after he had been captured by the Statemen of Helix where a madman ruled. That man believed by destroying the Range Guides, he would prove that Statemen could be just as powerful on their death machines. So Kaz was sentenced to fight in a deadly game called Deathsport. In Deathsport, no one was innocent or guilty. The only way someone could win their freedom was to fight by riding a death machine; a futuristic motorcycle equipped with a laser-like blaster that could instantly destroy victims when caught in its ray.

It was also through the eyes of Denere that Kaz saw visions of the young one, Tara, and learned of her disappearance. He joined with Denere in union for the purpose of finding the child once they escaped. After successfully defeating the Statemen and their death machines, and escaping Helix, Denere learned that the mutants had captured Tara. They rescued her even as they were being pursued by their captors, and the murderer of Kaz's mother, Ankar Moore. In the end, Kaz and the renegade Guide dueled with Kaz coming out the victor. Though the purpose that had brought Denere and Kaz together was over, they remained in union, supposedly to raise the orphaned Tara. Still, the code was specific. No one could hold a Guide, even another Guide. Kaz would again find himself alone, this time, coming upon a purpose whose significance even he would not realize until several months later.

Kaz Oshay traveled alone. Denere had ended their union. Another purpose had called her on. Even Tara had decided not to stay, wanting to remain with Denere. Although Kaz had wished for both to remain, the code was very clear on that matter. No one could hold a Range Guide, not even another Guide. During their short time together, Kaz had grown to love both of them as fiercely as he valued his independence, but to hold a Guide, even when there was agreement, was against the code. They all understood that each of them would soon be called for a higher purpose, including Tara when her time came. Tara would need the guidance of Denere when her own healing gifts came to fruition.

The union between Denere and Kaz had been strong, the purpose at that time had been clear; to escape the situation they found themselves in at the hands of another, and to take care of one of their own and save Tara from the mutants. With the young one safe, the three of them could continue together or part company; free to go their own way and meet again when other purposes required it. That was the way of the Range Guide.

Kaz let his horse find its own way through broken stone and brush filled paths as he slept cat-like on its bare back, wrapped in his cloak of homespun wool. When traveling, it was not always wise to stop and camp. Sleeping in this fashion enabled him to get some rest for a short time, but become immediately alert when trouble arose. Though the Statemen of Tritan had provided this particular horse, saddle, and tack as payment for services rendered, Kaz had removed the saddle and chose to ride the horse bareback. It was his way of getting to know the movements of the animal and to let the animal also feel the wishes of its rider without the need to always speak commands or pull on the reins. A shift in bodyweight was all the communication that rider and mount should require. It was a far more intimate relationship; one not all Range Guides followed, but it was Kaz's way and always would be.

As his horse came to a stop to nibble on some exposed dried grass, Kaz came awake and saw that the snow had finally stopped. He brushed away what flakes clung to his cloak and became aware how silent the world appeared. The only sounds that could be heard were the jingling of the tack and the soft nibbling and snuffling noises his horse made as he pulled on the stems and leaves of the plants his searching nose found.

Kaz took a moment to look around and found that the place he was in had a familiarity that he should not have felt. He had not been to this part of the wood before and yet it was as if he had in some forgotten dream. Suddenly, a shaft of sunlight broke through the thinning clouds and was caught by an unseen object; it's light bouncing back to strike Kaz in the eyes. He raised his hand to shield them from the glare and looked in the direction the reflection. Through the trees, Kaz spotted what looked like rough cut timber and what was left of broken stone walls. He could also see what looked like metal protruding from one of the openings in the wall. It was this that caused the light to bounce off into his line of vision. Intrigued, Kaz reigned his horse around and headed toward the site.

As Kaz approached, he saw that the ruins were more intact than he thought. Trees had grown up against parts of the ruined wall hiding much of the structure within, giving the appearance that the wall was all there was. Through broken parts of the enclosure, he spotted some kind of building. Kaz followed the line of the stone fencing and found the opening into the courtyard. Large twisted metal hinges were all that remained where once wooden doors had hung. Kaz pulled his crystalline whistler sword from its scabbard. To enter a space unprepared was foolish to say the least. He would not want to come upon mutants unprepared. Though mutants would not eat horseflesh, his flesh was another story. Still, he could not be sure if there were other predators waiting for an easy meal.

Kaz entered the courtyard and found a place to dismount and secure his horse where it would be safe. He circled the yard, keeping a watchful eye out for any other possible danger. As he circled, he came upon another strange metal object. It was a large bell hanging in a wooden framework. Kaz approached the bell and was surprised by its pristine condition. It was a stark contrast to the ruined structure of the wall. He realized this had been the object that deflected the light that caught his attention.

Kaz let his gaze wander to the rest of the area. This time, the building drew him. From the outside, the structure appeared abandoned, but having seen the condition of the bell, his interest was peaked where more investigation was needed to understand what place he had found himself in.

Kaz mounted the steps leading to the inside. As he approached the opening, he saw two large windows on either side of the entrance. They were covered with an intricate design. At the entrance, a large red curtain hung from the ceiling to the floor just inside the doorway. Above the door Kaz saw a plaque with symbols painted in gold. The name above said, "Su Lum Temple." Reading was rare among Range Guides. Kaz, however, had been one of the privileged few who had learned to read. His mother had also learned having been partially raised by the Statemen when she had been a child. But it was his father that had encouraged his mother to teach Kaz, or so she had told him. His father had made her promise that their child would learn words, so she had taught Kaz how to read. Before he had begun to journey on his own, his mother had passed to Kaz an old leather journal, saying that it had belonged to his father, though she had rarely spoken of him. When Kaz would ask whom his father was, she had been evasive, telling him that perhaps, one day, he would learn. All Kaz could remember of that time was a constant sadness that had remained in his mother's eyes. He had vowed some day to learn the truth behind it.

As Kaz gazed up at the writing on the wooden plaque, he reached in the brown pouch he carried at his side and grasped the journal. Much of the writing inside had the same quality as the writing on the sign above him. It reminded him of the stories that were written within the book; stories that were very old and told of a time long past. It was a treasure that no other Guide possessed. Even the pouch had been a possession that no other Range Guide carried. Denere had told Kaz that the pouch had belonged to his father. Denere had said that Oshay had given it to her and requested that she give it to her son. That was right before Oshay had been killed by Ankar Moore one year ago.

At the top of the steps, Kaz briefly paused and looked back. He had not realized how late it had become. The sun had moved into the western sky and the day was rapidly coming to a close. The mutants were sure to be out hunting for unprotected humans soon, and it would be best if he found a defendable space. This place was as good as any. Kaz gathered his resolve and entered the structure, pushing the heavy red cloth aside. He did not know what he would find inside, but he had a feeling it would change him forever.

Kaz entered the structure, his sword still drawn. When entering a new space, it was best to take precautions. Kaz breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his guard just a little when he saw a soft yellow glow coming from another doorway leading farther inside. If it had been dark, the need for more caution would have been apparent. Mutants had the advantage in the dark. Still, this was unknown territory; it was best to be cautious just the same.

Kaz headed toward the illuminated area and found another set of stairs leading down to a large open hall. The light that he saw came from dozens of candles on what looked like metal racks flanking both sides of the room between several large columns.

'What is this place and who lit the candles?' thought Kaz.

As Kaz looked around, he felt the presence of unseen eyes staring at him. He spun around looking for the source but did not see anyone. Perhaps it was his imagination. Kaz shook off the feeling and again scrutinized the space. Across the main floor below him, he saw another set of stairs opposite of him leading to a raised area. His gaze settled on a sight that he did not expect to see. The expression that appeared on his face could only be described as astonishment. Hanging on the wall was a symbol that all Range Guides looked for in their travels. It was a means to know that they were well met and safe. The symbol was divided into two parts, yet each contained a small part of the other. To find one this large in a place such as this was the stuff of legends.

Kaz thought back to the stories that his mother had told him when he was a boy. They told of a temple that was supposed to be the origin of the Range Guides. Could this be that temple? At that moment, a noise caught Kaz's attention. Someone was coming, perhaps the very person who had lit the candles whose presence Kaz thought he felt earlier. Kaz hid to the right of the entryway behind one of the large columns supporting the ceiling. He watched as a man approached from another doorway on the level below him that opened directly into the main hall. The stranger mounted the steps opposite of Kaz's hiding place and the Guide observed with curiosity the unusual colored robes the man wore and that his head was completely bare. Around the man's neck Kaz could see a string of beads. The Guide continued to watch as the man carried a bowl of fruit and some incense sticks up to a small altar next to a miniature statue of a sitting man. He took three of the sticks in his hands, lit them, bowed several times, and placed the burning sticks in a small container on one side of the figure. The fruit he stacked on the other side. Kaz then observed the stranger pick up a ladle from a nearby bucket and poured water into another bowl. It was as if he was making an offering to a long forgotten god. As Kaz gazed toward the altar, he heard a soft melodic tone rise. The man had begun to chant. The chanting went on for about 10 minutes, and then the man spoke.

"Do not be afraid. I will not harm you," the stranger said. His back was still to Kaz. "Come foreword, I wish to see you."

Wondering how the man had known he was there, Kaz came out of hiding, but did not move from the top of the stairs. The robed figure turned to face Kaz.

The man smiled at him. "Ah, you are a Range Guide. I have not seen one in many years. Tell me, what is your name?"

"I am Kaz Oshay."

As the stranger studied the Guide, he could not believe what he saw. The likeness was remarkable. He shook his head in disbelief asking himself, 'Is it possible? He did say the name Oshay, a name my friend has spoken with love and deep pain many times. He even mentioned there had been a child. I thought he said that someone had told him his son was dead. Could this young man really be his son? We shall soon see if that is true.'

"Well Kaz Oshay. I am called Matthew. Please, will you join me in a cup of tea?"

"Tea? What is tea?" Kaz stayed rooted where he was, not sure of the man's intentions.

"You have not had tea before? Come then, you are in for a treat." The man started walking off until he noticed Kaz was not following him. "Do not be concerned. You are in no danger from me. You will not need your sword, I assure you. It is quite safe."

Kaz eyed the man then replaced his sword in its scabbard. He would remain on guard for he could do no less when the circumstances were unfamiliar. The man named Matthew led him down another hallway, also lit with candles. They entered a smaller room with a fire off to the side in a small stone ring. A hood with a chimney rose above the ring to let much of the smoke escape the space. Even here, candles had been placed on every available surface to provide as much light as possible. Kaz felt a light breeze against his skin and he shivered as he pulled his cloak around himself. Looking up, Kaz saw a row of small windows near the ceiling. Through the narrow openings, he could see that the sky had darkened to a deep velvety blue that indicated day was turning into night.

Kaz pulled his gaze away from the windows and back to the room. It was lined on two sides with shelves and there was a raised area with cushions for sitting and a low table. Kaz noticed that the shelves contained many scrolls and jars of all types. The room was also filled with the fragrance of many types of plants; some of which Kaz found quite familiar, one in particular was the scent of Jasmine. It had been his mother's favorite.

The man motioned for Kaz to sit while he filled a pot with water from a bucket. Kaz watched as Matthew placed the pot near the fire and proceeded to gather some dried leaves from a basket. Kaz continued to study the man as he crushed the leaves and placed them in the steaming pot of water. As the leaves steeped, Kaz's mouth began to water at the enticing scents that rose to meet him. He then observed Matthew gathering two cups, placed them on a tray, and from a shelf that was hidden from view by a curtain, brought out what looked like several small round cakes. He then placed everything on a low table beside Kaz, then proceeded to take the pot from beside the fire and poured the liquid through a strainer into each of the cups. After setting the pot down, Kaz waited patiently as Matthew crossed his legs, sat on one of the cushions across the table from him, and then took a sip of his tea.

As Matthew took a sip, Kaz's eyes were drawn to some strange marks on Matthew's forearms. They looked like animals but Kaz could not be sure of what he saw in the flickering candlelight. Rather than continue to stare, Kaz cautiously picked up the cup, sniffed the brew, and took a sip. The taste was not that unpleasant. As Kaz sipped his tea, he could feel the man was now watching him.

"What is it that you wish of me?" Kaz asked, getting straight to the point, the marks forgotten for the moment.

"You are so much like him. You have his face, his eyes, and it would seem, his very character," Matthew whispered more to himself, though his words were spoken out loud.

Kaz was taken by surprise by the man's comments. He had always thought of himself as unique; master only to the code that all Range Guides followed and to himself. To think there was another like himself, disturbed Kaz.

"I am my only master."

"Of course you are," Matthew responded. "So was your father, from his perspective.

"What do you know of my father?" Asked Kaz, his eyes narrowing.

"I know that he was very special, like your mother. Was not her name Oshay?"

"You also know of Oshay?"

Matthew smiled, "Everyone has heard of Oshay. Her skills were legendary."

"How is it that you know things about my family?"

"I knew, that is, we, here at the temple, knew your father for many years. He grew up within these very walls. Your father spoke of Oshay quite often. He loved your mother very deeply. He did not wish to leave her side but the life that he had chosen demanded it. He also told us of the child. You must be that child "

"My mother rarely spoke of my father. If you are so sure I am his son, tell me more."

"Your father was an usual person. He had gifts that spoke of another time. He refused to carry a sword or to ride a horse, which set him apart from others. He walked wherever he could. He was trained in the use of all weapons, and knew how to defend against them. But he used his hands and his feet as his only defense and then only when challenged. He would not fight unless there was no other choice. He would defend and help all those that required it even those who were despised, that was his way. It did not matter if that person was a mutant, Statemen, or Range Guide."

That last statement amused Kaz. To even consider protecting a mutant was foreign to him. 'The man sounded like a priest of some sort,' he thought. 'But priests have not existed for over 300 years; not since the last war. Is it possible that they still existed after all this time?' Kaz turned his attention back to the man and his story.

"Your father was a man who believed in harmony and peace. He followed the teachings of the Tao. He especially believed in Lao Tzu's words from the Hua Hu Ching, 'The first practice is the practice of undiscriminating virtue; take care of those who are deserving; also, and equally, take care of those who are not.'"

"I do not understand, who is Lao Tzu and what is the Tao? What you speak of sounds like part of the code," Kaz said with surprise.

"You might say they are related. Lao Tzu was a great philosopher. His writings speak about the Tao, but to truly know the Tao, you must study and even then, you may not know it fully." Matthew said with reverence. "It can take a lifetime."

"What was my father called?"

"He was known by one name only; he was called Caine."

"He was known by one name only; he was called Caine," Matthew replied.

The name sounded familiar to Kaz. As if in a dream, his thoughts drifted backward to when he had been a boy of about 14 summers.

One question that Kaz had asked himself many times since Adriani's death still remained.

"Was Caine a Range Guide?"

"No. It was true that he wandered in much the same way as the Guides do. He also followed much of their code. In truth, he was one of very few remaining, as am I, of a dying order. He was Shaolin."

Relief flooded through Kaz as some of his confusion melted away. For many years he believed Caine had been responsible for Adriani's death and his mother's pain. Adriani had died from the wounds that she had received and yet, he could have sworn that his mother had said that Caine had carried no weapon. But he still needed to find out if Caine had truly caused the pain he'd seen in his mother's eyes. This new information Matthew had just told him intrigued Kaz. Maybe this would help explain what had happened.

"Tell me more about the Shaolin," Kaz questioned Matthew.

"The Shaolin were a religious sect of monks and priests. Many were known for their great skill at healing, as well as Kung Fu. They followed the teachings of the Tao, Confucius, Buddha, and all those who spoke of peace and harmony. They assisted all who asked for help."

"You speak as if the Shaolin are no more," Kaz stated.

"Perhaps soon. The order is dying. Even you did not know of the order's existence until now. We are a forgotten people. We will be lost to the world."

Sadness gripped Kaz's heart at the thought of such a loss. He shook himself and tried to remember one important rule that he had learned as a Guide, to preserve knowledge. Perhaps by learning more, he could preserve some of the history of the Shaolin and pass it on to others. In this way, they would not be forgotten.

"What is Kung Fu?" asked Kaz.

Matthew took on a far away look as if he was considering the young man's question. *Should I tell him the truth?* Matthew asked as if to himself.

Matthew's question was answered by another, the thoughts forming clearly in his mind.

*The truth will have to be told eventually, but for now, the legend should suffice. When are you going to tell him about . . . *

*He isn't ready for that.* Matthew countered the mental voice.

*He has a right to know. I have a right to get to know him and ease whatever pain he may be feeling.*

Matthew felt the pain behind the words in his mind, even though they were quickly supressed. He took a deep breath, trying to ease the headache that was now forming behind his eyes. Perhaps if he finished answering Kaz's question, he might find the courage to tell him.

"It is a very long story," Matthew returned his attention to the young man. "Legend has it that over 2500 years ago, a young Shaolin monk was journeying home to his temple. He came upon a sight that was to become the basis of Kung Fu. He saw a tiger hunting a crane . . ."

Kaz listened to the story with rapt attention. This was something new to him. As the Shaolin wove his tale, Kaz could picture it clearly in his mind; how the crane used its wings and feet to distract the tiger and keep it off balance, while the tiger tried to use its claws to grasp and tear at the crane. Then the images faded from Kaz's mind as Matthew finished his story.

". . . It was from the movement of these animals that the young monk created the forms and took them back to his temple. He taught the monks how to use the exercises to meditate, and to also keep their bodies in shape at the same time. With this new way of life, they now had the ability to defend themselves from anyone who wished to do them harm. In accepting this, the Shaolin branded their arms to set themselves apart from other followers of the Tao and other sects."

Matthew pulled up the sleeves of his robes and revealed his arms. In the flickering candlelight, the images of a tiger and a dragon could be seen burned into his flesh. Kaz's gaze was again drawn to the marks that he had seen earlier peaking out from Matthew's robes, and his hands reached out slowly to touch each one.

"I do not recognize that other animal. I see the tiger but should not the other be a crane?"

Matthew smiled at the question. "Though it would seem that it should, the other is a dragon. The tiger is for strength, the dragon for wisdom. Together, they make up the symbols that identify me as Shaolin."

"You said that my father is Shaolin. Does he also have these symbols?"

Matthew avoided the penetrating gaze of the Guide. "Had. Another Range Guide, a renegade, fought him and . . . supposedly killed him. That is all I know." Matthew again sensed a familiar tingling at the back of his mind, this time it smacked of disapproval. It was so strong and persistent, it threatened to overwhelm his senses. He blocked out any attempt at communication and did his best to keep his reaction down to a minimum. He would have to deal with the intrusion later. For now, he hoped the young Guide had not noticed his brief lapse in attention as he returned to face Kaz.

Suspicion formed in Kaz's mind, regarding the killing of Adriani years before and the wounds that had been inflicted. "Was he Ankar Moore?"

"Yes, he had been jealous of the relationship that your father and mother had. He wanted Oshay but she did not want him. He became obsessed. Ankar Moore hunted your father down and it was said he killed him. When it was discovered what he had done, he was banished. They declared that he had lost himself, that he had become an animal."

"I had not heard," said Kaz. "How is it that you know this?"

"News was brought to me by another Shaolin, a friend of your fathers. He discovered what had happened and . . . " Matthew could not go on. He saw the pain in Kaz's eyes and did not want to be the cause of it. Instead, he tried to communicate to the other that what had been said was necessary. *I had to tell him something. I do not like hiding the truth either, but I do not think he is ready to know. Give him time, please.*

Hearing the story from Matthew renewed the deep pain that Kaz felt as a result of what had happened to his family. He shook his head and fought back the tears that threatened to overshadow his reason. Though it had been only a few weeks since he had won the duel against Ankar Moore, it still disturbed Kaz to learn that the renegade had killed his mother. Now, it seemed that same renegade had also been responsible for Caine's death, and that Caine had been his father. The information nearly overwhelmed Kaz. Now he would never have the opportunity to confront Caine about the hurt that he had done to Oshay.

At least he could take comfort knowing that Ankar Moore was gone for good; that he had ended that useless life. Never again would the renegade use his abilities as a Guide in service to the Statemen, capturing other Guides to be used in Deathsport. At least that horrendous game had been stopped permanently.

Kaz could not stop the deep yawn that overcame him, exhaustion settling in from the long journey that he had made that day and from the emotions he had been experiencing.

"Please, my apologies," said Matthew. "You are tired. Come, I will provide a place where you can rest. We will talk more in the morning."

"I must see to my horse. He must be watered and fed."

"Your horse will be taken care of."

"What about the mutants? Don't they come here?"

"No. They are afraid of the temple. They believe it to be haunted."

Matthew led Kaz down another passage to a large sleeping area. Kaz could see a small bed off to one side. Even here candles burned brightly. Feeling the presence of eyes staring at him, Kaz spun around. He came up short as two figures, one with a penetrating gaze but gentle smile, stared out at him from an image on the wall. The other, a young man, also had the same penetrating look, though his eyes contained a hint of humor and even challenge. Kaz could see that they wore robes similar to Matthew's and around each of the figure's necks was a green jade pendant. What struck Kaz the most was that they both seemed familiar. It was as if he had seen them before, but he did not know how that was possible.

"They are your ancestors." Matthew responded to Kaz's unspoken question. "The young man is Peter. The older is his father, Kwai Chang Caine. They are the reason why you were led here."

Led here? What was Matthew talking about? The statement puzzled Kaz. As far as he knew, he had not been journeying to this place, only letting his horse roam freely at will. Kaz turned to question the priest but instead, found himself yawning and trying to keep from closing his eyes again. Kaz's mind fought off the need for sleep that his exhausted body was demanding; his anger flaring in response to his need to determine why he was in this strange place.

"Tell me what purpose am I here for?" Kaz demanded impatience clear in his voice.

"Patience Kaz Oshay Caine. Your questions will be answered, though many of those answers may not come from me. Rest, we will talk more in the morning."

Then Matthew waved his arms and extinguished all but one of the candles with the force of his chi. The motion startled and awed Kaz and he spun around to face the darkened room. A single candle remained burning near the image on the wall, as if it was a presence lamp, announcing that the spirit of those who dwelled in this place still remained. Kaz turned back to question the Shaolin about his trick with the candles, only to discover that Matthew was gone, and realized he was not going to get any more answers that night.

Kaz removed his belt and scabbard, and propped his whistler sword against the wall. The light from the single candle caused his shadow to jump wildly. Though the portrait on the wall was shrouded in partial darkness, the eyes of the older man could clearly be seen. They were a haunting reflection of his own. Kaz did not think he could sleep with those eyes staring at him. Then a soft, haunting melody rose around him. It had a hollow, floating sound that spoke of dreams and restfulness. Kaz sat on the floor and defiantly tried to keep his mind focused on something other than the music that drifted around him. He tried to resist his need for sleep, determined to keep guard through the night even though the sound of the melody was trying to coax him into relaxing further. As the notes continued to surround him, he could no longer keep his eyelids open. His attempt to shake off the impending sleep was useless. He found himself falling backwards sliding to the floor in a restless slumber.

For a brief moment, Matthew re-entered the sleeping area and signaled silently to two monks hidden from view. He watched the two monks approach the exhausted Guide, knowing he was safe within their capable hands. Matthew observed as Kaz struggled weakly against the strong hands of the two monks that lifted him. But the young man's exhausted body soon betrayed him, and he gave in as he was placed on the soft bed. Matthew draped a blanket over the prone form of the sleeping Guide to ward off the chill. Not a single footstep could be heard as the monks left the room.

Kaz mumbled, "Why did he call me Caine?" before sleep finally claimed him.

Matthew waited near an alcove and watched as the two monks left the room of the sleeping Guide. He turned and began speaking to a presence in the shadows. "He will sleep soundly until the morning."

The sound of the flute ceased. "Was it wise to tell him such a tale?" Anger laced the flute player's words as he slowly moved out of the shadows. The color of his robe declared him to be a monk of the same order, but the hood of the garment was drawn up, obscuring his face in its shadow.

"You know I had no choice. I do not like to hide the truth either, but it must be done. You did not see the pain in his eyes. He is not ready to learn everything yet," Matthew placed a sympathetic hand on the unknown monk's shoulder and continued. "He is too quick to anger and to kill. He must learn that there are other ways. Still, it is amazing. The likeness to his ancestor is remarkable, as your likeness is to the other."

"Yes, I know. Even I could not help but notice it," said the other monk.

Matthew could sense pride and unrestrained joy swelling within his friend, and yet he also sensed a deep-rooted anger directed at the one responsible for what his friend had been told ten years ago.

"I know you are angry, my friend. You must let it go. The one responsible for telling you that he died has been gone for five years. It does not matter now. With Kaz here, there is hope. He will be the one to fulfill what is written. That is his destiny."

"I am aware of that, Matthew," the hooded monk said. "Since I have been 'forbidden' to even contact him, it will have to be up to you to tell him everything. You must make it clear to him. It won't be easy. Even I could sense there was a great deal of impatience in him."

"Do not worry, my friend. He will learn patience. He has his father's curiosity after all, and I bet his stubbornness as well," Matthew said with a wink to the hooded monk.

"I prefer the word tenacious," teased the flute player." When the time comes, I wish I could go with him, but I cannot. I would be a hindrance to him."

"He will succeed; the book tells us that it is so. Let me make you a cup of tea and we can discuss what needs to be done next."

"Very well. I hope you are right," The hooded monk tried to convince himself. He picked up a leather tube hidden in the darkness and placed the instrument inside. He then grasped a long walking stick and limped down the hall beside his friend. Before they turned the corner, the hooded monk looked back the way they had come. A strong feeling came over him telling him he would soon be needed.

Kaz Oshay dreamed. The images were strange. He found himself walking within what seemed to be the very walls of this temple. Instead of dark empty corridors, light from hundred's of candles could be seen. Kaz saw many monks; the look on their faces was one of hope and joy. It was another time, and yet it felt as if the temple had not changed. Then the essence of the dream changed and Kaz found himself wandering the halls, anxiously looking for someone, unaware that he searched for the young man he had seen in the image on the wall. Kaz sensed the change in the atmosphere of the temple. He heard frantic voices and felt the rising of panic and fear. As Kaz rushed through to the main hall, he came upon the young man trying to help others. Kaz rushed forward to help, but before he could act, he saw the young man fall as another monk struck him from behind. Deep hatred burned in the assailant's eyes. The blow had been swift and deadly, and Kaz saw blood pooling out around the young man's head. Grief filled Kaz as he realized he had been too late. Then an explosion rocked the foundations of the temple. Debris rained down burying the young man and many monks. Shots rang out as others tried to defend those that had been injured.

"NO! PETER!"

Kaz turned at the cries as a man wearing dark glasses rushed into view. He ran to the fallen young man clawing frantically at the debris to free the Shaolin. Then a shot rang out and he too fell.

*No! This cannot be happening. I am too late, too late!* Kaz cried out, tossing and turning in his sleep. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he could not wake himself from the dream.

Without a sound, the monk in the hooded robe approached the bed and sat beside the restless Guide. His gentle fingers came up and caressed Kaz's face, stroking his right temple, soothing away the fears that disturbed the young man's sleep. For a brief moment, light penetrated the hood. Soft hazel eyes could be seen, then were again shrouded in darkness. The stranger continued to brush the side of Kaz's cheek as the remnants of the dream faded from the tightness in the young man's face. As a final tear fell, the stranger reached up and brushed it away with his thumb and Kaz relaxed into the feel of his touch. The stranger paused briefly; remembering a time long ago. Then regret filled him for his sudden impulse. He should have waited, but the need to be near the young man had been too strong. He could not bear to see Kaz in so much pain. It had been far too long since he held him, not since Kaz had been an infant, he realized. She had raised him well. This simple loving act nearly brought on his own tears as he turned at that moment to gaze upon another father and son. Had that one also done the same thing: soothed the fears of his frightened child? Could he not do the same?

The stranger sensed that the young man's sleep deepened and could see by Kaz's face that more pleasant dreams replaced the fading nightmare. The hooded monk rose stiffly from the bed, grasping tightly to the ever-present walking stick. He carefully leaned down, picked up the blanket that had fallen on the floor as a result of Kaz's restless slumber, and tucked it around the now quiet form. Then the hooded monk picked up a nearby pillow, laid it carefully on a spot on the floor, then lowered himself slowly to sit in a lotus position. He knew his body would regret it later, but the need to be close overrode his sense of wisdom. He pulled out the flute from its leather container and brought it to his lips and began to play again, weaving a melody that spoke of a distant past and a destiny to be fulfilled. He watched the young man as he played, and he could see him relax even more. Satisfied, the stranger continued to play for another few minutes then placed his flute back into its protective container. He turned his face up toward the portrait a second time, smiled, and closed his eyes; letting his mind drift into meditation and thought about a beautiful woman with deep auburn hair wielding a whistling crystalline sword.

Kaz woke to find that dawn was not far off. As he rose to do his morning exercises, he was vaguely aware that someone had been in the room as he slept. A lingering scent of jasmine was in the air and it evoked memories of his mother that brought his hand to his cheek. Someone had stroked him there last night as his nightmare had faded from memory. His mother had done the same thing when he had been a boy, but he knew it to be impossible for her to be here, having been dead now for a year. The touch, however oddly familiar, had a slight difference. Even so, two faces formed in his mind; one of Oshay, the other strangely obscured and distant. He tried to bring the face into focus but all he saw was a pair of hazel eyes. Kaz realized with surprise that they were the same as the two men in the portrait who he had just learned were his ancestors. Could those eyes of that unknown face belong to his father? But that too, was impossible to know. His father was dead. He knew no other parent than Oshay. If that was so, then who comforted him last night and why did he react to the touch as if his parent had been alive and in the room with him?

Kaz knew he wasn't going to find the answers at that moment, so he concentrated on performing his morning exercises. He then sat in the middle of the floor facing the window and the light of the rising dawn, and invoked the code that was the basic belief system of the Guides.

Kaz spoke in even tones, his voice sounding far off as if in meditation, "I am at one with the rhythm of the Earth. My true path never wavers. It is steady. My purpose is clear. I am of no more importance to the universe than the leaf on a tree. I am still. I share the life. I am one with it. I defend my own. I am as strong as I need to be. I give what I can. No one holds me. I am sacred. No one can touch myself. I am my only master."

"Kaz Oshay Caine, we must talk." Matthew stood in the doorway. There was a seriousness to his voice.

Matthew observed Kaz rise from the floor in one fluid motion that was so reminiscent of another.

"Why do you call me Caine?" Kaz said angrily. "I am Kaz Oshay."

"And you are a Caine. You are your father's son. It is fitting that you carry his name as well."

"I do not understand."

"You will. Come with me."

The Shaolin led Kaz through the temple down a flight of stairs to another room containing several artifacts. Matthew opened a dark wooden cabinet. Inside were several items, and one in particular had caught Kaz's attention. It looked like a stone coffin. Kaz was about to run his hands over the surface when Matthew stopped him.

"That is for another time," Matthew cautioned as he pulled a box from a smaller shelf above. He placed the box on a nearby table, opened it, and touched a hidden mechanism, a drawer sprang open and the Shaolin pulled from the now revealed hidden drawer, a white book. Kaz gave Matthew a quizzical look.

"Many have guarded this book for just this moment. Contained in its pages is the history of a line; your line Kaz Oshay Caine. The images are called photographs. The art of creating such images has been lost to us. Part of the duties of the Shaolin order was to act as historians and preserve valuable documents. This particular book is your legacy. It was preserved especially for you. I will do my best to explain its contents."

Matthew handed Kaz the book and watched him cautiously open its pages. As Kaz flipped through the book, Matthew observed the young man's reactions as he viewed each image. He could see that Kaz recognized the very first photo as being the older man in the sleeping chamber. He continued to watch Kaz flip through the book and watch his gaze fall on every image.

"This is the young man on the wall in my chamber."

"Yes."

"There is so much pain in his face in these other . . . photographs," Kaz pointed toward the back of the book. "It is as if all the light in his eyes had gone out. Who is the other, the one with the dark glasses? I have seen . . . he looks . . . familiar . . ."

"He was a very dear friend of your ancestors."

Matthew turned back to the beginning of the photo album. "You will learn more about the two younger men in time. Your concern should be for the older. You, Kaz Oshay Caine must take his place. You must become Shaolin."

Kaz's eyes narrowed. He did not understand. What did Matthew mean, take his ancestor's place? "I am already a Guide. Why must I become a Shaolin? What purpose does it serve?"

Matthew watched the young man and could feel the disturbance in his chi. His friend had been right. Convincing Kaz of their need was not going to be easy.

"I must apologize for the choice of words. You are needed but it is difficult to explain. To understand I would have go back to the beginning." Matthew shook his head. He knew he should reveal the whole truth to Kaz, but if he did, the Range Guide might not help them. 'Besides what good would it do to tell him. He believe's he's dead. What should matter at this point is to convince the Guide that we need him. He can be told later.' Still, he had to at least tell him something. He understood that a Range Guide needed to know what his purpose would be; and Kaz was no exception.

"What do you mean, go back to the beginning?" Kaz asked

Matthew made a decision he hoped his friend would understand.

"The history of the Caine line is a long and unique one. This would not be the first time that the last of the line was called to save the past."

Matthew could see the puzzled look in Kaz 's eyes and tried to continue. "Nine months from now, in the past, something will change that will affect the future; their future, our present. This very Temple will be destroyed along with these two men." Matthew pointed to the photograph of the young Shaolin and the man in the dark glasses.

Matthew could sense the rising fear and confusion in Kaz. He breathed a deep sigh and debated whether to tell the Guide more of what he knew of the events. Perhaps telling him a little more would not hurt. It may even help to convince him further that they needed his help.

"The events in the past should not have taken place. Something had been altered to allow that destruction to happen," Matthew said, pointing to the album. "Even though we are standing here today, time has been altered just the same and within nine months, the Shaolin and Range Guides will cease to exist, wiped from the memory of all."

"The Range Guide's? How? What do they have to do with this?" Kaz became alarmed at what he heard.

"I . . . do not know."

Kaz knew somehow the man was being evasive. The book was still open and he stared down at the photo that contained the face of the older man. He was to replace this man? Was that his purpose? Why? What wasn't the Shaolin telling him? He said those men; the younger one and this one were his ancestors. What was the older man's name? Kwai Chang Caine? Then Kaz turned to another page and his hand rested just below the image of the man with the dark glasses. It was the same man from his dream. As he stared at the photo, Kaz's thoughts wondered, 'Who are you?' Matthew had only mentioned that he was a good friend of his ancestors. What significance did this man also play?

"Kaz, I can only ask for your help and that you trust me." Matthew pleaded. "I am asking that you help us, the Shaolin and the Range Guides, to survive. Only you can accomplish that purpose."

Kaz stared down at the metal bands around his forearms. He had earned these bands when he had taken on the challenge that marked that he had reached maturity. The trial had been simple survival. He had entered the caves of the mutants and tried to survive without being detected. He had remained in there midst for one week. He had nearly been caught twice. The second time he had received a wound in his leg that contained a small amount of the mutant's poison. It had nearly killed him, but he had survived thanks in part to his mother's knowledge of rare herbs that she had passed onto him. By surviving, he had proven himself worthy to be called a Guide.

He knew that Matthew had not told him everything, or even if the Shaolin was telling the truth. And yet, if he refused to take on this challenge, if what the priest had said came to pass, then would he no longer exist? The thought frightened him. Kaz turned toward Matthew.

"I will help you, Shaolin."

Matthew closed his eyes and bowed, and acknowledged Kaz with his closed fist to open hand salute.

Peter was restless. He had come out on the terrace to meditate in the blooming garden. The May spring day offered the promise of something new. Peter was sitting in a patch of sunshine soaking up it's warming rays when he sensed a person's presence he had not felt in three months. A broad smile creased his face at his anticipation of his father's return to the city from searching for the essence of his mother, Laura Caine. Impatient, Peter could not wait to discover whether his father found if she was alive. As Peter focused his chi, he could feel a deep sadness in his father's chi long before he arrived at the apartment above the warehouse. Concerned, Peter reached out further to discover the reason.

*Pop?*

*Do not call me that!*

The sudden reprimand was angrier than Peter expected or even remembered. It felt like a knife entering his mind and he recoiled from the impact. Trying to shake off his own reaction, he felt his father's shame across the link as Caine's thought's filled his mind.

*Peter? My son, I am sorry, I did not mean to . . .*

*Don't.* Peter interrupted, sending his own hurt and anger through the link back to his father. *I promise. I . . . won't call you Pop ever again. I'll leave you to your thoughts, Father.*

Kwai Chang Caine could sense his son's distress and the sudden breaking of the link. He quickened his pace. He had not meant to be so harsh with his words. Peter's formal use of the word father brought on a wave of sadness and regret. He had been deep in thought when his son intruded. Although he realized the attempt his son had made to contact him had been done out of concern, he should not have reacted the way that he had.

Caine sighed deeply, 'I am sorry, my son. Forgive me. I should have noticed that your abilities as a Shaolin have grown since I have been gone these past three months. I should be proud, but ...'

Kwai Chang's thoughts drifted back to his search and subsequent discovery as he was reaching the street that led toward home. One question continued to remain in the forefront. 'How am I going to break the news to him?' he asked himself.

Peter rose from the terrace floor and entered the apartment, shaken from this mental assault. He walked through the halls searching for a place to calm his spirit and entered the private kwoon. The small altar stood at one end and Peter went over, lit the candles, and sat on the mat to try and refocus his thoughts. Tears stung his eyes and his heart ached, making him feel like a child again. He had not meant to intrude, but his impatience had won out, wanting to know what had transpired regarding the search for his mother. It was also a way for him to practice Shaolin mindspeak, as he was now prone to call it. With this latest wave of anger, a new rift had opened between father and son that was bound to make life more difficult if it was not healed quickly.

"Young Caine, you are distressed." Lo Si entered the kwoon carrying a tray with a pot of tea and two cups. He set the tray down by the straw mat in front of the small altar next to where Peter was sitting.

"It's all right, Master. I just have to learn . . ." Peter fought to keep from choking on the raw emotion, the words tumbling out in a stream. "I can't seem to do anything right, lately. I've messing up with all this apothecary stuff. I've tried to follow the lessons, but . . ."

"Peter you are doing fine. You are just beginning. Perhaps it is my fault. I have been pushing you too hard, but I sense that your distress has nothing to do with learning to work with herbs. Tell me what is troubling you."

Peter bowed his head, not sure where to start.

"Is it because you have been thinking about your father and his search?"

"That's part of it, I guess," Peter sighed deeply. "That . . . and the fact that Jordan left yesterday. She just packed up her bags and moved out. She said she wasn't satisfied living on one salary and she couldn't understand why I wouldn't charge for my services. I think that was just an excuse. Money has never been an issue. She seemed at first to accept the fact that now that I'm a priest, the community takes care of my needs just fine. I guess she had some dreams of her own, but she never fully confided in me about them. Instead, since I've moved in here, we've done nothing but fight about one thing or another. Not only that, she's become far more hard nosed about me interfering in police business. With the last case, she even accused me of obstructing justice, said if I wasn't going to support the police that I could be run in as an accomplice. The kid was scared. He had no other place to go. He wanted out from under Bon Bon Hei's organization. They were blackmailing him. What was I supposed to do? The kid may have had a rap sheet but he still deserved a chance at changing the path that he found himself on."

"Peter, you do not have to justify your actions to me. I know it has not been easy since your father left."

"To say the least. Even the people of Chinatown are still cautious, even though they know I'm Shaolin. How am I suppose to help them if they won't come to me? They trust you more. I can't understand what I'm doing wrong."

"It is not you, Peter. It is your age. You are young. The Chinese community has always turned toward their elders for advice. You must find another way how you can help, perhaps working with the youth."

Peter was about to answer when a new member entered the conversation.

"That is an admirable idea."

The sound of the long awaited and familiar voice brought Peter's head up, and he turned to see the elder Caine standing in the doorway. Though he was glad to see his father return, Peter bowed his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if caught in an embarrassing situation. He rose from the floor and stood with his back to the door, not wanting to meet his father's gaze. The awkwardness of the moment had caught both off guard.

The Ancient glanced back and forth from father to son.

"I believe I will check on that pot of tea."

"But Lo Si, you just brought a fresh pot in," Peter said, turning toward the old priest and pleading as if he did not want him to leave just yet.

"It has grown cold. It needs warming," Lo Si said, picking up the tray and exiting, leaving father and son alone. The looke he gave the two left no doubt that his words were not only referring to the tea.

Kwai Chang Caine approached Peter in silence, trying to read the expression on his son's face. Lo Si had been right. Caine could sense there was a definite chill that hung in the air between them. He needed to dispel the damage that his harsh thoughts had caused earlier.

"I am sorry, my son. I know you have been anxious these past few months and I did sense your concern for me. I am proud of you. You have shown great improvement in your abilities."

Peter lowered his head and swallowed a lump in his throat, "That's okay, Dad and thanks." The hurt from his father's reprimand lost some of its sting, as Peter felt his father's love reach out to him. It warmed Peter's heart to know that his father was proud of him for what he had accomplished in his absence. "I take it you didn't find any trace of Mom, did you?"

Caine moved deeper into the room and removed his flute case, brown pouch, duffel bag, and hat. Scrutinizing the place, he noticed a few new items that Peter had added to the decor; some of which he approved while others would be rather difficult to get use to. He would comment on them later.

"I am afraid I did not. The photograph turned out to be of a young woman who merely looked like your mother. Though a sweet girl, she was not Laura." Caine sighed deeply.

Peter tried to hide his disappointment. "That's okay, Dad. I think we both knew deep down that she couldn't be alive. You had to find out the truth. Besides, Annie's been my mother for a long time. I wouldn't want to hurt her, even though I really would've loved to have seen Mom again and gotten to know her. I have very few memories of her and I know you've missed her." Peter paused a moment, not knowing where else to go with the conversation. He finally settled on a safe; unemotional topic. "Are you hungry? You want to join me for something to eat? How about that little cafe you always like to sit at. You can tell me more about your trip. Did you see Grandfather at all while you were there?"

"I would be honored, my son and yes I did. Your grandfather is well. Peter, there is one thing, about your calling me, "Pop". I realize it is your way of expressing your love for me, but your mother would not have liked you calling me that, and it makes me feel old."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize . . . .it hurt your feelings." Peter again felt the overwhelming disappointment in his own abilities to please his father and others. "It's just that I kind of thought it as sort of a pet name." Peter's voice went down to a whisper and he bowed his head.

Kwai Chang lifted his son's face to stare into his eyes. "Peter, you do not have to apologize for the love you feel for me. I understand. I remembered that when I was young I, too, called my father, Pop. He did not like it either. When you call me that name, it reminds me of him. I believe I may get use to it in time, but please, not too often." Caine tapped his son on the chin with a playful punch of his fist, forcing a smile to appear on Peter's face.

"Okay, Pop, uh Dad." Peter said with a small but reserved grin and wrapped an arm around his father's neck, "Thanks. Does this mean I'm forgiven and your staying?"

"Of course, where else would I be?"

"Uh, Dad, one more thing. I really hope you don't mind. I couldn't help notice that you saw my stuff. Well, since I'm Shaolin and you asked me to take care of your place, and I no longer have the same income coming in, well . . ."

As they exited the apartment together, Peter tried his best to explain, his father patiently listening to his Shaolin son without saying a word.

Every hour of the day it seemed was spent in training, studying old scrolls, or doing some sort of mundane task assisting in temple life. The day would begin at dawn and end well after the sun was down. Kaz began each day with a simple bowl of rice as his morning breakfast. Then with other students, though few in number, he would be taken to where his level of training was being held that day, Kaz had observed that his training had not followed the same path as the other students.

While others semed to concetrate on doing one task for hours, Kaz was required to learn more than the rest. It was intense. It was as if they were trying to pack years of study into a few months. There were days when Kaz would return to his room and realize that he had not eaten anything since breakfast, but was too exhausted to even think about getting anything else to eat. Even doing any meditation or hsi own devotions seemed exhausting to him.

Kaz thought back to when his training began and when he met his teacher. It was immediately after he had gone through an initiation trial where he had been required to defend himself. It had been a test of his fighting skill like none other he had experienced. He had to defeat three monks in combat using a style of fighting that he had never seen before. Somehow, he managed to defeat all three, but he wasn't quite sure how he managed it. When he did, Mattthew had declared him worthy. For an instant, he wondered what would have happened if he had said that he was not, though the thought vanished as soon as it had appeared simply because he had union with the Shaolin to perform a task. They certainly could not refuse him if they were the ones that asked for his help in the first place. Still, he did not expect to be learning the things they were teaching him, especially by an ancient monk that looked like he had come out of the last milllenium.

As the weeks went by, Kaz later learned that temple life was not all hard work, even though it seemed every moment of his day was filled with some aspect of Shaolin Gung Fu training. He would see small groups of students, disciples, and masters, discussing philosophy. Others were playing musical instruments or studying old scrolls. At times he would spy the hooded monk that he had seen playing what looked like a flute. Master Po had explained it to him that it was made of bamboo. Kaz had asked who the flute player was, but the ancient monk was evasive in his answer. He simply told him that that particular monk was to be left alone, that he was undergoing his own trials and needed solitude.

"It is not time for you to meet. He will be your next teacher when the time is right. It is he that will make that choice." said Master Po, the tone of his voice barring any argument.

Later that day, as Kaz was practicing his stance training, he also took the opportunity to ask a few questions.

"Master I do not understand what is the basis of Gung Fu? Kaz asked.

"The art of Shaolin Gung Fu is founded upon form, balance, meditation. This is the base upon which all else rests," his teacher instructed. "Your horse stance is very deep. Perhaps from sitting on a horse for many years you have the advantage of knowing it quite well. Your bow stance, however, needs work. Your feet should be parallel and at an angle. Your front toe should be turned inward and the knee should be over the toe."

Behind one of the main pillars supporting the great hall, Matthew and the hooded monk watched Kaz and the Ancient as they trained. Both observed the intensity that was present in the young Guide's face as he listened to his Master.

"He is eager to learn as you were, when you entered the temple. He hungers for knowledge," said Matthew.

"And yet he is still impatient and filled with rage," said the other.

"You, too, were just as eager to learn and to know. He will learn patience and understanding. You shall see."

'But you do not realize that the knowledge he hungers for is not being given to him. I should be the one giving him that knowledge. I should be the one teaching him,' the hodded monk thought

The pair moved off continuing their conversation, leaving student and master to train alone.

*****

The next day found Kaz trying to walk across a thin beam of wood, eyes closed. Strapped to his arms were two buckets of water. As he took each step, it felt as if the beam got narrower and narrower to where his foot barely covered the surface. At the moment his right ankle gave way and he tried to regain his balance, the thoughts of the other intruded.

*Focus Kaz. Feel the beam not just with your body, but with your whole being*

Too late, with the added distraction of the other, he stumbled and fell from the beam landing hard on his backside and spilling the water. This had been his fourth attempt and each time, his frustration grew and became more apparent on his face. Matthew moved forward and again assisted Kaz to his feet.

"Aauuugh. This is impossible. Why must I master all this stuff? There's no purpose to it. I am a Guide," Kaz exclaimed angrily.

"Everything has a purpose, Kaz. Kung Fu allows us to hone our bodies so our minds may be free to explore in other planes, Matthew said as he assisted Kaz to his feet and began refilling the buckets.

"It will come, in time. Remember, it is the journey itself which enlightens us, not the destination." Master Po instructed, looking on.

"All this feels like it is a waste of time. I am a Guide. I need to know the purpose behind this."

"Go, meditate in your quarters. Your impatience prevents any further progress today," the Ancient replied, his voice stern.

Kaz removed the buckets from his arms and then stocked off toward his quarters. When he entered, he sat on the floor and tried to focus, but meditation would not come, his anger blocked any attempt. Kaz rose and threw himself down on the bed.

'Why did I agree to this? What is the point?'

He thought back to the day he first viewed the album. He remembered the things Matthew had told him, but the Master's explanation only seemed to bring on more questions.

'If I do not train to become a Shaolin, the Shaolin and Range Guides will be no more. Why? What link do the Range Guides have to the Shaolin? I know Matthew has not told me everything,' he thought. 'What good is studying old scrolls that have nothing to do with me and learning how to fight in his new style when using my sword is far more efficient? It is the only way that I truly know how to defeat an enemy and to survive.'

*There is always another way. The thirst for blood leads only to death."

Kaz sensed the presence in his thoughts again, the gentle reprimand was meant to give instruction and comfort, but Kaz did not want to be comforted.

*What would you know about that? Have you ever come across someone who wished your death?* Kaz thought sarcastically.

*Yes, many years ago. I still would not kill him. His own arrogance will be his downfall.*

Kaz hesitated, a hint of fear and apprehension rising in him as he realized that he had responded with his own thoughts as if he had been doing it all his life. Courious about the developing link between them, Kaz attempted another question to see if he could learn how he was accomplishing such a feat.

*Who is this person? Does he still live? Kaz questioned.*

*Someone from my past, and I do not know. But I can at least answer one of your questions. You asked what link there is between the Range Guides and the Shaolin?"

*How did you . . .?*

*That is not important. You are that link, Kaz Oshay Caine.*

*Me?* Kaz asked bewildered. *I do not understand.*

*You will, in time. Sleep now.*

The sound of the flute came and Kaz fell asleep to its gentle tones.

The hooded monk sat quietly by the small man-made pond, his arm dangling in the water while the oversized goldfish brushed his fingers, looking for food. It had been a week since he had been out here last. The hood had been temporarily thrown back to allow the freshening breeze to brush his face. If someone were to spy the lone figure, they would be struck at the similarities found in a particular face in a certain portrait on the wall in the quarters of the visiting Range Guide. As he watched the fish, his mind drifted. 'If only I could be open about who I am,' he thought to himself. 'It is not right that I should stay hidden. Surely, there has to be another way.'

Hearing the rustle of fabric and soft footsteps, the monk moved the hood back to its customary place.

"Oh, it is you, Matthew," said the monk. "Where is Kaz today?"

"Going over some more documents regarding Peter Caine's father, Kwai Chang Caine. You should be proud of him. He is progessing quite rapidly. He has already advanced in the White Crane system since he arrived several months ago."

"I wish I could tell him myself. It should be a father's duty to instruct his son."

"You know you cannot." Matthew said, being realistic.

"If I do not, the anger that is there will never be healed."

"Yours or his?" Matthew asked.

The hooded monk shifted his weight to stare at his friend when he suddenly cried out. A pained look crossed his face and tears brimmed in his eyes.

Alarmed, Matthew rushed forward to help his friend. "Is it the old wound? I thought it would be totally healed by now."

"Physically, almost. Emotionally, I'm not so sure."

"You must not do this to yourself. If you are to heal, both in body and spirit, you must let go of the guilt and anger as well. It will continue to affect you where you are the most weak, your right hip. You do not need that cane any more than I need to grow hair."

"How can I let go? You do not understand. She raised our son alone. I should have been with her. I feel as if I abandoned them. Then to believe that my son was dead all these years only to find that he survived, how am I suppose to feel?"

Matthew gave a deep sigh. "Angry I am sure, but you did not abandon them. You respected her wishes."

"This has been going on since our line began," the hooded monk conceded.

"It was not always so, you know that. Kwai Chang Caine raised his son in the temple."

"Until that temple was destroyed by a renegade priest and both believed the other was dead." the hooded monk said bitterly.

"And that same priest was the key that brought father and son back together. Because of that, Peter Caine restored what is our home."

"Only to be lost, again." the hooded monk answered sadly, though the sadness was not for the young Shaolin of the past, it was fear for the Guide that must face an uncertain destiny.

Matthew, however, missed the underlining meaning. "No. You know Peter Caine's death has not happen, or you would not be here. Isn't that right, Paul Thomas Caine? Your son will succeed. The book states: and the Last shall save the other who was the beginning and the first of the new. You and I both know that Peter Caine was the beginning, not only of the new Shaolin order, but he was also one of the founders of the Range Guides."

"Matthew, we know that Peter Caine rebuilt the temple and brought the Shaolin back, but do not forget that a certain mercenary had a part in that as well. You and I both know that it was Peter Caine's son and Kermit Griffin's daughter that gave birth to the children who were the Guide's beginning and the continuation of the Caine line. I know my own family history."

"As do I. Do not forget, we are related in more ways than one."

"Do not remind me Matthew Griffin. How you came to be here is beyond me. I would have thought that from your line, you would have been a Guide." Caine said wryly.

"You know Kermit Griffin had twins, a boy and a girl. His daughter married Peter's son. She was more the mercenary. Griffin's son entered the temple. It was said that the grandchildren of both the line of Caine and Griffin were taken to Shambhala to protect them from the neutron wars, if you believe in Shambhala."

"Shambhala does exist," Caine insisted. "My ancestor's journal mentions such a place. And you know the Range Guides, though formed, did not emerge into this world until 600 years ago. My son is one of them. He has a right to know the full truth. I should have gone to him the moment I saw him."

"Kaz will come to you in time and then he will know the truth." Matthew placed a comforting hand on his distant cousin's shoulder. "Paul, there is one thing you can be grateful for. Be grateful that Ankar Moore did not learn that Kaz was your son. He surely would have killed him if he had known. Have you heard anything more of Oshay's whereabouts?"

"No. I am sure Kaz knows but I am "forbidden" to even speak with him. I wish I could see her one more time. She said we had union. I did not know what that meant. It wasn't long before I knew that I loved her. I stayed with her for more than a year. When she gave birth to our son, it was a joy beyond description. Then another Guide found us and asked for her aid. She said our union had ended though our love would always be powerful. I did not know what that meant either. All I knew was that I wished her to stay. I asked if I might take care of our son until she returned, but she wished to raise him as a Guide. She only knew her way of life, she did not know what a Shaolin was, though I tried to teach her. Before she left, I made her promise that our son should learn words. One day it would help him, I said. And I gave her an old journal to use in teaching him. Then I watched her take our son and ride away. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I had to respect her wishes and her ways. I vowed some day to find him. Little did I know that he would fine me after having heard that he had died. And now I fear he may be taken from me again before he can know who I am."

"Caine, your fears are unfounded. He will return."

"Yes, but then what? In order to fulfill a destiny, he must become Shaolin. He cannot use his skills as a Guide" Paul Thomas Caine breathed a deep sigh. "But I fear something just isn't right about this. Something is sure to go wrong and history will again be changed."

'Master?" Kaz came into the garden.

The hooded monk grew silent and lowered his head so his face was in shadow. Kaz looked at the strange monk with curious eyes. He had only seen glimpses of him during his Kung Fu training and continued to wonder who he was.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt."

"You are not interrupting, Kaz, we are finished here. What is it that you require?" Matthew said.

"There's something here that I do not understand."

"Let me see it." Matthew moved over to where Kaz stood. "Let's go back to the library. There may be another reference related to this one."

The hooded monk watched with longing as Matthew and Kaz left the garden. 'Matthew, you are wrong,' he thought. 'I shall know my son. It isn't right that I should remain hidden from him. He will need me, if not to aid him in his destiny, then to aid him in other ways. You cannot keep us apart forever. Though you believe there will come a time we will meet, I prefer to create that time. There was one thing you were right about, Matthew, Kaz is learning patience, but wil it be enough?'

Paul Thomas Caine waited for a few more minutes then rose and followed the two men, reaching a decision that he knew his friend and cousin would certainly not approve of. He would deal with the consequences later. It was time for the son to meet his father.

The air had the hint of winter as the days were growing shorter and the nights cooled. It had been six months since Caine had return. Sharing the large apartment with Peter had become both a blessing and a challenge. The additional items that Peter had added were taking a little getting used to. The computer was one thing, but the phone had proven to be more than a nuisance. Caine finally insisted that it be removed. Reluctantly, Peter had agreed. Nothing, however, proved more nerve racking than trying to meditate while Peter held his classes. Even though Caine had been pleased that Peter had taken Lo Si's advice and signed on as a volunteer instructor through the 101st Precinct to work with the youth in Chinatown, there were times when he wished that classes could have been held elsewhere. Peter had tried to explain to him earlier that his classes would return to the 101st Precinct's gym after the renovation had been completed, but for now, the only space that had been available was the large combination meditation space and private kwoon in their apartment.

"Could you not have spoken to the manager of the building and found space on one of the lower floors?" Caine had asked his son.

"Pop, all the offices are rented and you know that the first floor is taken up by the warehouse. Ours is the only space available. I promise I'll try to keep the kids out of your hair. It won't be for long, a couple of months."

That conversation happened four months ago and had done little good. Caine was feeling invaded. Normally, he enjoyed the sound of children and their enthusiasm. He had even enjoyed sitting in on Peter's lessons. His son was proving to be an excellent instructor. He was proud how his son was able to impart the very lessons that he had taught him. He also could not help but notice that two of Peter's students had very special qualities. He had spoken to Peter about those students and he was proud when Peter wanted to learn more about how to seek for such quailities in others.

Today, Caine needed the peace and quiet of meditation to sort out a difficult problem. His peace, however, had been shattered when the sound of children's angry voices forced him into acting as mediator. Caine was about to read a couple of boys the riot act in his own fashion when Peter came in from outside carrying an armload of packages. He caught the angry look in his father's eyes and knew they would talk later.

"Your students I believe?" his father asked, exasperation very evident in the tone of his voice.

Peter placed his packages near the door and looked around at the half-dozen students that had arrived early. Clutched firmly in his father's hands by the collar of their clothes were two boys that Peter recognized. These two boys never seemed to stay out of trouble. Caine shoved them forward, insisting without saying a word that it was Peter's responsibility to handle the situation, then left the room.

Peter could sense the rising storm as his father exited the kwoon and headed to another part of the apartment.

"Okay, what's the problem this time? May I ask what you're doing here? You know class doesn't begin for another half hour."

Tommy and Jason, the would be troublemakers, shuffled their feet as Peter looked from one boy to the other, expecting an answer.

"Jason said I can't become a priest. I can too, if I want."

"You can't be a Shaolin priest, you have to be part Chinese, yeah dike."

"Whoa, hold on there. There will be no name calling in this place." Peter said sternly. "Tommy, Jason, what did I tell you two the last time?"

Both boys answered in unison, "When you perceive that an act done to another is done to yourself, you have understood the great truth."

"Don't just repeat what I've said, explain to me what it means." Peter instructed.

Jason bowed his head, embarrassed at not having learned the meaning of the lesson.

"When you hurt others, you're hurting yourself."

"That's right Tommy. I'm pleased to see that you were paying attention. Now, what's this about becoming a priest?" Peter questioned.

"Tommy thinks he's being trained as a priest, just because he's learning how to fight." Jason again piped up.

Peter's voice became sterner having heard the sarcasm in Jason's voice. "Cool it, Jason. We'll discuss your attitude later." Peter looked at the rest of the faces and asked, "Now, I want to know what happened here to make Master Caine so angry. It's not like my father to storm out of here the way he did."

"I thought you were Master Caine," said a third boy.

"I am, Christopher, but he's really the first. To avoid confusion, you can call me Master Peter. Now, I asked a question, I would like an answer."

At first the six children did not say a word. Then a girl, Allison, spoke up. "We came in early and he was just sitting there."

"And you just barged in making a great deal of noise."

Another of the six children answered, "Well, it was really Jason and Tommy. They were already fighting."

"And the rest of you didn't bother to remember the rules about coming up to the fourth floor?" Peter questioned as six blank faces stared back at him. "Okay, first of all, my father was "not just sitting there. He was probably meditating. He needs peace and quiet to do that. You just do not come barging in making a lot of noise during his time of meditation. If you're early, you can wait in the hall, but you must be quiet. My father and I share this place. He needs to have his time alone. And if there are any more arguments, you take them outside. When you bring them in here, you disturb the harmony of this place. Now, I want you two boys to sit this class out. You will sit in the doorway and watch. No argument. Do it. We will talk more later. The rest of you set up the mats and remove your shoes. We'll begin class as soon as the others get here."

Peter watched the two children as they moved to the doorway. Jason grumbled reluctantly and sat down hard, crossing his arms. His face conveyed a scowl. Tommy, on the other hand, sat with his head bowed in humility. Peter could not help but smile as he recalled an earlier conversation with his father. It was during one of the times Caine had observed the class. He had spoken to Peter about the potentiality within the two boys. His father had said that Tommy especially had the potential to be a priest, if properly trained. He had said that he could sense the Tao within Tommy. That statement had surprised Peter. He had not known that such things were possible to know.

More students arrived and the class began. The hour seemed to melt away as teacher and students became focused on the lessons for that day. When the class was over and the children were leaving to meet their parents outside, Peter called Tommy aside.

"Tommy, you have questions about becoming Shaolin?" Peter prompted, sensing that the boy was disturbed about the teasing he had received.

"Yeah, but Jason says I can't because I'm not Chinese."

"Well I'm only part Chinese and I'm a priest." Peter said. "Actually there have been a few people who have attended Shaolin Temples who were not Chinese. A good friend of my father's and the Ancient, Michael Lowery attended my father's temple in California. Besides, becoming a priest is a great responsibility. It takes years of study. Are you sure that's what you really want? There aren't many temples around here."

Tommy stared up at the young Shaolin in awe. "Can I attend your father's temple?"

"I am afraid that would not be possible. The temple was destroyed many years ago."

"Why don't you rebuild it? Then others could come and become Shaolin, too."

Peter stared at the child in surprise. 'Rebuild the temple?' Su Lum Temple?' "You know, Tommy, no one has ever suggested that before. It would seem the student has taught the teacher. We shall see. You better get going. Your mother is waitng."

"Thanks, Master Caine," Before leaving, Tommy turned and gave Peter the Shaolin salute.

As Tommy left, his question still remained in Peters mind. 'I wonder why no one even thought of rebuilding.' Then Peter realized the most obvious of answers. The memories would have been far too painful. He recalled his own reaction when his father and he had gone back home. Seeing his mother's grave and the ruins had brought out a great deal of pain, but at the same time, those pain-filled memories had been put to rest. Maybe there could be a chance to rebuild some day. And maybe, knowledge that both his father and he had could be passed down to a whole new generation. As far as he knew, besides the Ancient, Master Kahn, his father, and himself, he didn't even remember if any other monks or students had survived or where they might be. Even if the temple could be rebuilt, it would take a miracle and a team of people to do it. Peter sighed deeply. 'Oh, well. It's probably just a pipe dream. Still, it would be cool to be able to fulfill the dreams of a little boy.' recalling the look in Tommy's eyes at the possibility of becoming Shaolin. 'Who knows, anything is possible.'

Kaz Oshay had been reading for more than two hours before Matthew had redirected his research and was able to help him find more about the man's life he was studying. He still questioned his relationship to this man, and yet, he could not help but feel a familiarity about him. When Matthew had given him the old worn journal, he told him it had belonged to his ancestor, Kwai Chang Caine.

"It is so you will know him better," Matthew had said.

The journal may have helped Kaz to understand the man's thoughts, but he still questioned what purpose it served.

'I do not understand what Matthew is asking me to do,' Kaz thought. 'Why am I studying this man's life when I should be trying to know Peter Caine? Isn't he the one I must save?'

Kaz opened the journal. Its pages, brittle with age, crackled. Examining the delicate script, he came upon a passage that brought a familiar pang to his heart.

"It is late. I cannot sleep. I lost my son last night to a renegade priest. I cannot join him until I have found peace within my soul again. Ping Hai wishes for me to stay. He believes that all may not be lost. My path, which seemed so clear, is obscured. There is nothing for me here. Perhaps some day I will return to rest with both my son and wife, but not now. Peter, I love you, my son, and I miss you. No words can describe the anguish that I feel at your loss. Please forgive me for not being there when you needed me."

The passage brought on memories of another's words written within the journal he held in his possession. That passage always sparked painful feelings, and he recalled the first time he had read it.

Kaz pulled out the worn leather journal from its place in the brown leather pouch he carried and rubbed its surface. With his other hand, he picked up the journal of Kwai Chang Caine. Something in its ancient pages also seemed to pull at Kaz. It was as if these two books were a continuation of the other, like the words of a father, and a son.

'So much pain and so powerful. It happened so long ago, I do not understand why it continues to affect me,' Kaz thought.

"Perhaps it is because it reminds you of the loss of a loved one."

Kaz spun around as the familiar voice intruded on his thoughts only to realize that the voice had not spoken to him in the usual fashion, but rang out like any other. The voice had come from the hooded monk who stood near the doorway leading to the garden.

"You are the one who speaks to me through my thoughts. Who are you?" Kaz asked in surprise.

"A friend. Who did you lose?"

Kaz turned away, struggling to regain control of the rising emotions that he was sure the hooded monk had sensed. It was a continued battle that he would lose too often. The young man swallowed the lump in his throat, trying not to choke on his answer, "My parents, though I never knew my father."

Kaz became aware that the hooded monk had not heard him. "Master? Is something wrong?" Kaz inquired.

The hooded monk looked thoughtful for a moment but finally responded, "I should not be here. Matthew believes that in time, everything will be revealed, as it should. He believes you should be concentrating on what needs to be done and not be burdened with other knowledge, regardless of its importance or not. I am afraid Matthew and I disagree. It has always been that way between us. I should go. You need to return to your studies."

Kaz could sense the confusion and pain in the hooded monk and did not wish him to leave. "Please, Master. Tell me what you meant when you said that the passage might have reminded me of a lost loved one. Did you lose someone as well?"

The monk hid his surprise at how perceptive Kaz was as he responded, "I also lost my parents. My mother was killed by the mutants when I was just an infant. I lost my father when I was 10 years old. He died trying to protect me. Not all Statemen honored travelers back then. There were too many of them. My father tried not to harm them, but in the end, they overpowered him. They left me to die. I entered this temple soon after, seeking safety from the mutants and stayed, until . . ." the monk's voice fading as his own emotions rose to the surface.

Compassion filled Kaz as he sensed the man's pain and tried to reach out in his own way to help. "Please, tell me more." He motioned for the monk to sit and watched as he took a seat not too far from him. Curious, Kaz tried to gaze deeper in the hood, but the monk turned his head further obscuring his features.

Trying to get the monk to continue with his tale, Kaz gently prompted him with another question , "Who was your father?"

"He was Shaolin, as his father was before him, from father to son, clear back to . . . well, let's just say there were a lot of Shaolin in my family," the hooded monk said with pride.

"I learned that my father was Shaolin, too, but I don't know very much about him. I don't know if I ever will," Kaz responded angrily.

"I can sense you are angry, my friend. Tell me what troubles you."

Kaz struggled as he sensed the concern coming from the hooded monk. He did not like revealing his inner most private thoughts, but something about the man said that he could be trusted. Perhaps it was because the priest had always seemed to be there when he needed calming, or maybe it was because they both shared the loss of family.

"I was going to confront him in regards to my mother," Kaz began. " But it's too late for that. He is gone. I do not even know what he looked like."

"Perhaps it's not too late," said the hooded monk, seeing the opening he had been looking for.

"How can it not be too late?" Kaz asked with exasperation.

"You were told that he died, killed by a renegade Guide."

"How do you know this?"

"That is not important. You were not told the truth."

Kaz's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Kaz's eyes widened as he watched the monk silently lower the hood in answer to his question. He stared into the face that had been concealed for so long. It was as if the portrait in his quarters had come to life.

"It cannot be," the young man whispered. "You have the same eyes, the same features. You are Peter Caine! But that is impossible!"

"No, I am not Peter. Just as you have the face of Kwai Chang Caine, I have the face of his son."

Kaz rose from the bench and backed away from the stranger, shaking his head in disbelief and denial.

"Wait. There is more, Kaz. I am your father. I am Paul Thomas Caine."

The snow was blinding. Peter searched with his chi to discover the whereabouts of his friend. It had been five days since his disappearance. Even Donny Double D had no clues as to how to fine Kermit. At his father's suggestion, Peter had gone to Kermit's office and sat there concentrating on his friend. His father said it would help him "tune in" to where Kermit might be found. "Sometimes one picks up on another's essence from something that person had touched," he had said. His father had been right.

"Kermit!"

Peter came upon the man sprawled in a patch of red stained snow. He rushed to Kermit's side and placed his fingers on the pulse point. Kermit was still alive, barely. Peter could not help notice the condition of his friend's clothing and the absense of a warm jacket. He swiftly pulled off his own jacket and wrapped it around his friend's quickly cooling body.

"Pop! Over here." Tears stung Peter's eyes, as much from the wind blown snow as the anguish that he felt for his friend. "We've got to get him to a hospital. I don't think we can do much for him here."

Peter hitched in a quick breath when he saw what had been done to his friend as his father lifted up Kermit's torn shirt, exposing the wound. The cut was long and deep. No small knife could have possibly inflicted so much damage. He watched as Caine pulled out his small herbal pouch and poured some in his hands. He crushed the leaves together then applied them to the wound. At the same time, Peter reached into his own pouch and brought out a cloth to wrap the herbs in place.

"Pop, someone must call for help. We were lucky to find him. He was just dumped out here to die."

"You must give him your strength, my son. I shall go for help. You must keep him alive."

"All right, but hurry. If he stays out here much longer, hypothermia will settle in and we may lose him."

"I shall endeavor to hurry."

Peter watched as his father rushed off to get help. *Please Pop, don't take too long.*

Peter turned back to his friend and pulled the jacket closer around him to fight off the deepening cold. As Peter tried to keep Kermit warm and focused his chi to help strengthen him, he became aware that someone was standing behind him. Peter spun around, ready to defend his injured friend. Bon Bon Hei stood in front of him, oblivious to the cold.

"What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Peter eyed the man suspiciously then his gaze fell upon the bloody sword still grasped in the Tong leader's hands.

"You're the one who attacked Kermit."

"You guessed right boy," Bon Bon Hei brought up the sword. "Now it is your turn."

As Bon Bon Hei brought the sword to bare, Peter sent out his chi and the sword started to glow red-hot. Bon Bon Hei, shocked by the sudden heat, dropped the sword in the snow. It gave off a hiss as the cold quenched the fire.

"So, you too, are now Shaolin."

"You better believe it," Peter replied.

"I warn you, Shaolin. I am the emissary of the Dark Warrior. He will return. You and your father will not be able to stop us."

"I don't think so. My father defeated the Dark Warrior once before. He'll do so again. What can you do?" Peter said.

"Do not underestimate me. Your friend here did when I returned from Shambhala. He was unable to act against me. Listen well, Caine," Bon Bon Hei spoke menacingly. "If you interfere, more of your friends and family will die, including your father. Leave Chinatown."

"As my father would say, 'I shall leave when the time is right,' Bon Bon Hei."

"Do not mock me priest. You think I am bluffing? You will soon know that I am not. You forget, I have the powers of the Dark Warrior. Guard well, Shaolin. You cannot be everywhere. Do not reveal this meeting or your father will be the first to die." With those last words, Bon Bon Hei disappeared along with the sword that had fallen in the snow.

Peter picked up his unconscious friend and cradled him in his arms again sending out his chi to give strength to Kermit. The thought of Bon Bon Hei back in Chinatown sent shivers down Peter's spine. He remembered his very words to Captain Simms when she had asked him if he considered Bon Bon Hei a threat to Chinatown. He had answered, "No, to mankind!" And yet, he could not help but notice when he heated the sword in Bon Bon Hei's hands, he had not retaliated with any use of any powers. 'If he did have the Dark Warrior's powers, why didn't he just kill me? Why all the bravado?' he asked himself. 'Why does he want me to leave Chinatown?' Peter was not going to get any answers at that moment. Clutching his friend tighter, Peter waited out the storm and his father's return.

"Oh, Pop, please hurry."

Peter sat next to his friend in the recovery room of the hospital. Dr. Sabourine had said that Kermit Griffin was lucky to even be alive with the amount of blood he had lost. One question though was in the forefront of Peter's mind, What was Kermit doing with Bon Bon Hei and why did the Tong leader attack him?

When Caine had returned with help, Peter sensed that his father had felt the disturbance in both is chi and thoughts. Caine had handed him some herbs to strengthen his depleted chi, but Peter could still sense his father's concern for his emotional state. Peter refrained from telling what was wrong; choosing to keep his own council and remembering the warning that Bon Bon Hei had given him. Instead, he had insisted it was because he was worried about Kermit. His father had not pushed the issue, and Peter was glad that he had let him keep his privacy. He knew, however, it would not be long before both his father and Kermit would want answers.

At that moment, Kermit stirred. His eyes fluttered open and he started to lift his right arm to rub the sleep from his eyes when he felt the pulling of the bandages.

"Uh, what happ . . " Kermit struggled to speak, his throat raw from disuse.

Peter reached up and grabbed a couple of ice chips and placed them in Kermit's mouth, knowing full well what condition hospitals and medical procedures could leave a patient's throat in, having experienced it more times than he could count.

"My father and I found you. Can you remember what happened?"

"No. I had come from talking with Donnie Double D and was sitting in my car when two guys attacked me. They used chloroform. I don't even remember how I got injured. How long has it been?"

"You were missing for five days," Peter said. "The precinct even called in the FBI but they gave up the search when nothng turned up after two days. Captain Simms called my father and me in after that."

"Why can't I remember anything?" Kermit asked.

"I wouldn't worry too much. Your memory will probably return later," Peter replied.

"Where did you find me?" Kermit questioned. "How did you find me? No, forget that, I don't want to know. Probably a Shaolin thing. I'm just glad you did. Pete, I could use your help here. I know Bon Bon Hei is up to no good, but I can't get anything out of anyone. You know Chinatown. Maybe you've heard something."

Peter thought for a moment and debated whether to tell Kermit what had transpired between him and Bon Bon Hei. His hands felt tied at the prospect of another possible attack on friends and family. 'Would Bon Bon Hei really make good on his threat?' he thought. He again questioned whether Bon Bon Hei really did have the powers of the Dark Warrior. 'Perhaps he's bluffing and I've given him more power than he's worth. Still, something isn't right here. He could still retaliate in some way.' Peter felt afraid, but it wasn't for himself. He knew his father could handle Bon Bon Hei. He had done it before. But Bon Bon Hei did threaten to kill his father if he even mentioned the meeting between them. Kermit was another story. The Tong leader could still go after him again to get at Peter. He had to find the means to protect his friend. Then a plan began to take shape in his mind. It would be, at least, one way that a certain ex-mercenary could be protected from the likes of Bon Bon Hei.

"Peter, I asked you a question, have you heard anything?"

Kermit's question intruded on his thoughts.

"No," Peter answered, hating the fact that he had to lie to his friend. "Kermit, have you heard from Paul?" he asked instead, changing the subject and trying to sound casual.

"Paul? What does he have to do with this?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to know if you heard from him," Peter said defensively. "I have a right to know, Kermit. It's been three years since he left. Mom has all but given up finding him alive. Carolyn and Kelly haven't said much but I can tell they're both thinking the same thing."

Kermit didn't answer at first. "You're going to be mad at me."

"You know where Paul's been don't you?"

"We've been keeping contact by email," Kermit answered softly.

"You're right. I should be mad at you. You've known the whole time and you didn't tell me."

"Paul made me swear an oath, Peter." Kermit answered defensively. "The business with Cooper wasn't over yet. Copper wasn't the ringleader. He had orders higher up. He wanted to be sure that you, Annie, and every one else were not only protected, but knew nothing about it in case they came after you. He's been tracking down corruption you would not believe."

"Try me. It can't be any worse than what my father and I faced."

"I can't go into details. If I did . . ."

"Then you'd have to kill me, I know," Peter replied with the old joke that was always being passed around.

"This isn't funny, Caine." Kermit's voice was serious.

"I'm not laughing. Where is he Kermit? You know I'll find out sooner or later. You may as well level with me."

Kermit sighed deeply. "You're about as persistent as your father."

"I'll accept that as a compliment. Spill it."

"Yes, I had kept in touch with Paul. I've been letting him know what's been happening at the precinct. And before you ask, no I did not tell him about you becoming a priest. You can tell him yourself."

"You said 'had.' Something's happened that you haven't told me yet." Peter said, concern growing.

"We've kept in contact up until two months ago. About the same time Bon Bon Hei started showing up in Chinatown again. I thought they were connected."

"But they're not?" Peter questioned.

"I found out that much, before Bon Bon Hei's men grabbed me. Why Bon Bon Hei is back, I don't know, but Paul's disappeared completely."

"Do you think you could find him again?"

"Oh, yeah. You know I can." Kermit stated. "But, you might need my help with Bon Bon Hei."

"My father and I can handle Bon Bon Hei. I need Paul, Kermit. Mom needs him. His family needs him. He's been gone far too long. Isn't having him home reason enough?" Peter decline to go into any more details. "If my Dad's in trouble, next to my father, you are the only person I trust to bring Paul back alive. As soon as you heal, do what you can."

"You bet, kid."

Peter turned away from his friend. Even though he did not like the implication that Paul was in trouble somewhere, he was grateful that he would not have to worry about protecting Kermit from Bon Bon Hei. He wished he could help Kermit in his search, but with the threat of the return of the Dark Warrior, Peter knew he had no choice but to remain in Chinatown. He could take comfort that, at least, his friend would be busy elsewhere.

Kaz was stunned. Here was the very person he had wanted to confront for so long, and now he did not even know what to say.

Paul Thomas Caine stared at his son. He could sense the shock coming from him. He knew no other way to break the news. He was about to explain further when he heard voices. Matthew was returning. Paul did not want him to discover what he had done. He knew there would come a time when he would need to confront his cousin on the matter, but not now. Quickly, Caine replaced the hood, put his finger to his lips and projected his thoughts to his son.

*We shall talk later, my son.*

Kaz watched as his father rose and walked back out to the garden, and then turned to see Matthew enter. His eyes narrowed as he saw the one who had lied to him.

*No, my son. Do not confront him here. There will be another time. Return to your studies.*

Kaz responded to his father's words through his own thoughts.

*I should kill him.*

*It is not the Shaolin way,* Caine replied.

*He deceived me.*

*As was I, though not by him. I, too, wanted to kill the one who deceived me.*

*How were you deceived?* Kaz questioned.

*I was told you had died.*

*I do not understand.*

*Meet me in your quarters. I will explain then.*

Kaz gathered his belongings and rushed from the library without speaking to Matthew. If he even made any eye contact, he knew he would not be able to stop himself from challenging the Shaolin. He made his way through the corridors trying to avoid as many of the other monks as possible. The way he was feeling, he would probably react and chop the person's head off if they tried giving him a pleasant greeting. When he reached his quarters, he flung his leather pouch on the bed. At first, he did not see that Caine was standing by the portrait, his hood still drawn up around his face.

Kaz continued to pace back-and-forth like a caged animal. He had not felt so much rage since Ankar Moore had taken him to fight in Deathsport. 'Why did Matthew lie to me about my father,' he asked himself. 'And now that I learn that my father is alive, why can't I summon up the courage to question him about Oshay?' Kaz had not realized that he had broadcasted his thoughts.

"I did not hurt your mother. I loved her."

Kaz spun around and faced the hooded monk.

"What do you know about it? You were not there when she asked for you and you did not come! You were not there to see the pain in her eyes." Kaz fairly shouted at the man standing before him.

"No, I wasn't," Caine replied quietly "I couldn't. Ankar Moore nearly succeeded in killing me. I barely had the opportunity to hand Adriani my pouch, which I see that you now carry. I am pleased to see that she succeeded in returning it to your mother. I could not stop him from mortally wounding Adriani. But you need to calm down. You are acting like him." Caine raised his hand and pointed toward the younger man in the portrait. "You seem to have more of his personality than his father. And that can be very dangerous for the task ahead."

"There won't be any task! You cannot hold me here! I am a Guide!"

"No. But if you do not, you know what will happen. There isn't much time left. As a Guide, you did agree to this."

"Tell me, why must I do this as a Shaolin? Why can I not do this as a Guide?"

"Because the Guides did not exist back then," Caine replied.

Kaz stopped and blinked. "But there have always been Guides."

"Not always, Kaz. There had to be a beginning. Did your mother ever tell you how the Guides came about?" asked Caine

"No. That secret died with her," Kaz said, sadness creeping in.

'Died!' Caine reeled from the shock. 'My love, no.' Caine closed his eyes and tried to calm his now raging chi. "How ... how did she die?"

"She was killed by Ankar Moore. He is gone. I killed him in a Range Guide's duel."

Caine shook his head. Too much pain. To learn that Oshay was dead filled him with anguish. And now it was apparent that Matthew had also betrayed him. He had trusted him to tell Kaz the truth, but Matthew had not told him everything. 'Perhaps he was only trying to protect me from getting hurt,' thought Caine. "What did Matthew tell you?"

"He told me about the Caine line or at least some of it and he showed me a book filled with . . . photographs?" Kaz said, searching for the right word. "I still do not understand how that applies to me. The only reason I agreed to do this was because he said that the Range Guides would disappear as well as the Shaolin if I did not. He is insisting that I study a man who has been dead for a thousand years. Why?"

"Have you ever really seen your own face Kaz?" Caine questioned.

"I have seen my face. I know what it looks like, but to gaze upon it for simple pleasure seems to be a foolish thing to do."

"What if you had an injury, a scratch of bruise that needed healing? You could apply the necessary ointment to the scratch if you were able to see it more clearly," Caine began.

"That I understand and have done. But why should I look upon my face for mere pleasure?" Kaz asked.

"It is not for pleasure's sake, Kaz," Caine continued. "it also can be used to help you to understand the past; where the shape of your nose may have come from or the color of your eyes, for instance. When you saw my face for the first time, what did you see?"

"I saw him," Kaz pointed to the portrait.

"Now, I wish you to see where you come from," Caine said then pulled out a small mirror from a pocket of one of his sleeves. He handed it to Kaz, face down. "You already may be aware that you have the eyes of the Caine line. They are my eyes just as much as they are Peter Caine's. To truly know your ancestors, you must look upon your own face, really scrutinize it. They are in you."

Kaz held onto the mirror for what seemed an eternity. Then he slowly turned it over. He watched as the image became less distorted as the mirror was turned upward. Kaz stared at the face that looked back at him. He was astounded at what he saw. He traced the lines of his face with his fingers. He glanced up to the portrait and realized that, except for the rough beard that he always wore, those features were the very same as the face on the wall.

Kaz looked up from the mirror. "You are right. I have the same eyes." Kaz brought his hand to his face and ran it along his mouth. "I have his mouth as well. Everything looks the same. Except ... he looks older."

Caine had removed his hood and had moved closer to his son.

"So you see, why it is so important that you know. They are your history, Kaz. And they are going to be history before you or I will even get a chance to be born if you do not help us."

"Why must I do this?"

"Because you are the last of the line."

"But why must I become Shaolin?"

"Why did you become a Range Guide?" Caine countered.

"I did not 'become' a Guide, I was born a Guide."

"But, you had to learn the skills of a Guide to use them." Caine replied. "The Caines have always been Shaolin. You might say, they were 'born' to it. The first was Kwai Chang Caine, over 1100 years ago. He was the first Shaolin of that line, even though in reality, the line of Kwai Chang goes back farther than that, another 1400 years to be precise. Though not all of them before Caine were Shaolin. We do know that Kwai Chang Caine's father and grandfather were not. But from Kwai Chang Caine came Matthew and from Matthew came his son, named for his grandfather, and from him came Peter and all who came after were Shaolin."

This information, though not new to Kaz, began to intriuge him. Caine's explanation helped to see more of the connection that he had with the men of the past. "Can you tell me about the rest of my ancestors?" Kaz asked.

"Yes, but not here. Those records are protected. You will see them someday, my son. For now, you should only concern yourself with knowing about Peter and his father."

"But why?"

"Kwai Chang Caine was supposed to be the one to save his son when the temple was being destroyed. Something changed to prevent that from happening. No one really knows what happened, only that Peter Caine died sooner than he should have. His friend, Kermit Griffin also died that day, and Kwai Chang Caine disappeared. Some said he left the country to go and live with his own father, but the reports are not clear. Others said his enemies finally destroyed him. All we know for sure is that the Shaolin order never fully recovered from the loss and the Range Guides were never created."

The Range Guides were never created? This new information sent Kaz's head reeling. For the first time, he was beginning to see just how much of a connection he had with the Shaolin.

"You should go. You still have a great deal to learn. You haven't finished your Kung Fu training either. There will be other trials ahead. Like your Range Guide skills, understanding Kung Fu is a very large part of being Shaolin. And know this. I loved your mother very much. When she took you with her, my heart nearly broke. I tried to follow her, but every place I went, I could not find her. I helped whomever I could while I continued to search. I had been meditating when Ankar Moore attacked me. His whistler sword cut my right hip to the bone, and he left me to die. I gave Adriani my pouch to give to your mother when she found me. I must have passed out from the loss of blood and she believed I had died. I would have, except shortly after, I was found by another monk who helped to heal my wound and took me back to the temple. I continued to ask the whereabouts of Oshay and you. My wounds healed, except my hip. I wanted to again search for you and your mother, but the wound in my hip would not allow me to continue my search. I was later told that you had died, poisoned by the mutants in some kind of survival trial. I blamed myself for not going with her and not being there to protect you. I ask your forgiveness, I love you Kaz. Believe me, I have never stopped loving you. You are my son."

Kaz did not say a word, but felt his anger melt away. He finally understood the source of Oshay's pain and knew it for what it was, a pain born out of mistaken grief. Silent tears fell as Kaz opened his heart and forgave his father. And for the first time, Kaz could allow himself to mourn the death Oshay.

"Come," Paul Thomas Caine said, taking his son into his embrace. "We shall mourn her together."

Peter stood out on the balcony. The rain softly fell around him as he looked out across the mist-covered city. The weather was a reflection of what he was feeling in his soul. Peter let the rain soak his hair and clothing, trying to wash away the pain. There had been three deaths in as many weeks. Three deaths, that for all appearances had no connection, but Peter knew the truth. As he gazed out across the city, he let his thoughts drift back.

Still, lost in thought, he did not hear his father approach.

"What are thinking, my son?"

"I'm thinking that I wish I was you." Peter's words were filled with pain.

"Peter, your destiny may have been to be Shaolin, but that does not mean that you are me. You have both qualities from your mother and me, but you have always been your own person. Come inside. You are soaked to the skin. You will catch a cold standing out here in the rain."

"Pop, have you ever felt like you really needed to do something but didn't know what it might be? I mean, like there was something that you needed to do so strongly that you just had to do it no matter the cost?"

"Yes, and unfortunately, the cost was almost my son."

"I don't understand." Peter replied.

Kwai Chang breathed a deep sigh. "After 15 years of wandering, I gave up looking for your essence. When I began hearing rumors of the child who would become our new Emperor, I believed there was an opportunity for me where I could begin again if I could restore honor to our family name. I believed you were dead and I began to accept it. I thought with this new purpose, I would be able to put the past behind me and allow myself to . . ." Caine could not continue.

Peter finished for him. "You mean you could think about having a family again."

"Yes." Caine's voice was a whisper. "But I dismissed that thought, believing I was betraying your memory and your love by giving up the search for your essence, but I was still not whole."

Peter reached up and brought his father into a deep embrace. He could feel the guilt that he had carried since their reunion.

"You didn't expect to find me alive."

"No. Finding you was . . . an accident . . . one that filled me with great joy beyond description, but I was not honest with you or myself. Though I had been given a second chance, it was not for the right reasons. I still saw only the reunion as an opportunity to restore our family's honor at all cost, but this time, it included you. When I first tossed that matchbook, it was not out of love for you but out of arrogant presumption. I presumed that you would wish me to teach you again. You did, willingly out of loyalty, but I was not teaching you so much as a father teaching his son, but as a master teaching a student to prepare him for a challenge.

As a teacher, I believed I did not need to share my life openly with you. What I had learned in my journey those 15 years, I needed to keep silent. I was not ready to share those memories with you. I tried to come back into your life as if nothing had changed, instead, anger grew between us even though you followed me. I tried to protect the "little boy" rather than understand the man. When my goal was finally achieved, I lost my purpose. I no longer had a goal to strive for. Only after the Shadow Assassins threatened your life and the lives of your friends did I realize where my purpose should have been; getting to know my son. When I left, you tried so hard to understand, but I knew deep down you were hurting. I did not see that you were, so your anger grew and it seemed that you did not want me in your life. I had abandoned you when you truly needed me as a father. After regaining our family's honor, I had a crisis of faith, not only as a Shaolin, but also as a father. I believed because I had been gone for so long, that I no longer had that right."

Peter was moved by his father's words. He had not heard him speak so freely of his feelings.

"Oh, Pop. Of course I wanted you in my life. Back then, I didn't know how to say it. When I saw you in that hospital room, it was a dream come true. You don't know how many times over those 15 years that I wished you were there, and when you were, I guess I didn't know how to react. I knew you wanted me to be that little boy, but I couldn't. I really thought all you cared about was that I was the last of the line. I had changed so much from the kid at the temple that I really didn't think I could be a Shaolin. I didn't think I was worthy to be your son. I didn't think I could live up to your image. But when I took the brands, something changed. I saw my whole life and I realized that being Shaolin was all I ever wanted to be, even when I was a kid. When I thought you were dead and I was sent to the orphanage, things happened that left me feeling bitter. Still, I never forgot how you would help others. I realized I wanted to do that too, and if I couldn't do it by becoming Shaolin, I'd do it as a cop. Paul Blaisdell helped me to see that. Only when I did become a cop, I had to harden part of myself. When you came back into my life, I started to realize that the path that I was on would eventually get me killed. I had to find another path so I finished my training. But at times, I still feel like I'm searching for where I belong."

"We all search for that path that will lead us to our destiny. When we find it, we know it to be right. You should come inside."

"I will. I'm not ready yet."

Peter's heart was filled with love as he watched his father re-enter the apartment. But that feeling of love soon changed to deep sadness, shame, and determination. 'Ever since he left, and even after he returned, he's let me take more responsibility and care in the community,' Peter thought 'But look what's happened since I've become Shaolin. I've messed up big time. I'm sorry, Pop, I have to do this. It's the only way to protect you. Forgive me, father for not telling you, but I know if I did, you might try to talk me out of it. Those deaths were my responsibility. I know you'll understand.'

The next day, Caine entered the private kwoon to begin his morning workout with his son only to find the place empty. A white envelope caught his attention. He opened it to find a letter.

Dread filled Caine. Something in the letter did not feel right. He could sense that Peter had not been fully truthful. The three deaths in Peter's life had been a terrible blow, Tommy's being the worst. Perhaps his son felt responsible. Caine was filled with anguish at the prospect of not seeing his son ever again. He knew the price that his son would have to pay, to wander and find peace. That price could take as much as a lifetime to repay. He knew all to well what that meant, the endless days of walking, the loneliness, and the feeling of incompleteness. It was a road that Caine had traveled before, one that could be filled with many adversities. He knew Peter had been deeply troubled by those three deaths, but there had to be some other reason for him to leave the way he did. He hoped that Peter was not walking into danger.

Two men stood on the roof of the building across the street in the early dawn. The older of the two wore dark sunglasses, obscuring his face. He watched his younger companion lower the binoculars then come and stand by his side.

"Is he gone?" the older asked.

"Yes, the father is still there."

"He is of little consequence. The father will not be able to stop us." said the man with the dark shields.

"Was it necessary to kill the boy?"

"Of course. You know the Master had to be sure that Peter Caine got the message," replied dark shades.

"Where do you suppose the young priest is going?"

"Does it matter? He is gone."

I don't understand. Why force him to leave in the first place?"

"It is necessary to the plans of the Master. Father and son must not be together."

"If you say so. I heard he was going to rebuild some old temple," the younger man said.

"Perhaps, but even if he does, he will fail."

One of the men looked at his companion curiously. "I don't understand."

"That which is regained will again be lost in bloodshed."

"I hate it when you talk cryptic."

"If the young priest brings back the Shaolin by rebuilding that which was lost nearly 20 years ago, his father's temple, we shall show him how easily it will be lost again. He must believe that he is succeeding in his plans."

"I still don't understand."

"Must I spell it all out for you?" The older of the two men was getting impatient with his compaion. "The young priest must be allowed to rebuild the temple. Three years from now, in the year of the Dragon, the older priest will again know pain and loss. The Master said it will be so."

"Why must we wait until the year 2000? Why can't we stop him sooner?"

"Because his father would prevent it."

"So?" The younger man said. "We could easily kill him with a high powered rifle."

"The Master does not want Kwai Chang Caine killed. He wishes him to suffer. Besides, he is no longer a threat. It is his son that we must take care of, along with anyone else that stands in our way."

"I still don't understand why we have to wait for three years?"

"In the year 2000 a white dragon will appear among us. It is that sign that we must wait for."

"What's so special about a white dragon, besides they're imaginary creatures," the young man scoffed at his companion.

"The dragon will appear and when it does, it will mean destruction for many, including the young Shaolin."

"I still don't understand."

"You will. Come the Master, Bon Bon Hei awaits us. We must inform him of our findings."

*****

Bon Bon Hei listened to the reports of his associates. 'So, the young crane finally left the nest,' he thought 'The parent crane could still be a threat though. Perhaps it is time to show this crane that he too should abandon the nest. If he does not, there is always another way to ensure that he will not interfere.'

Bon Bon Hei gave the younger of the two men a list.

"Take this. See to it that someone on this list dies. But not too soon. Wait for some time to pass, then begin the killings again."

"Which one should I start with?" the young man asked.

Bon Bon Hei glanced at the list and pointed to a name. "You can begin with that one."

Bon Bon Hei watched as the younger man left then handed the older man a small jar.

"When the time is right, you know what to do with it. Take care that he does not see you. There can be no more Shaolin and no more Caines."

After the two men left, Bon Bon Hei resumed his meditation, but peace would not come. He did not like the fact that both Shaolin lived in the light while his organization remained in the shadows. Though the Ancient was also Shaolin and a Shambhala Master, he was far to old to be any threat to him. Even so, the old man would soon be taken care of anyway. It was always best to take precautions. Then a frown formed on Bon Bon Hei's face. He knew he should not try to push the issue, but if his Master was to return, he needed some assurances. Even though Caine had defeated his Master, he still possessed the powers that the Dark Warrior had passed onto him. It would be so simple to just unleash those powers now, but the time would not be right. He had to wait for the White Dragon to appear. Only then could the destruction of all the Shaolin begin, especially the destruction of the Caine line.

Kaz bowed to the assembly of monks and entered the hall leading to his final trial. A gate rose allowing him to enter. He followed the short hall and as he turned the corner, he could see two rows of wooden men. He heard Matthew's voice surround him.

"You must get to the end before the candle burns down. Only then will you be allowed to enter the cauldron's chamber."

Kaz had been privy to watch another student before him enter this hall just two months ago. At first, Kaz had not realized that some of the monks in the temple might have also been students. Master Po had told him that the temple received very few students. Only those that found themselves within this part of wood seeking shelter would sometimes stay, but not many. He had told Kaz that it had been 10 years since any new student had entered.

Kaz recalled talking with another student earlier and learned he was once a Statemen.

"I have been studying in the temple for more than half my life." he had said. "I was traveling with my parents and a Guide to one of the city states when we were attacked by mutants. The Guide and my parents were killed. I barely escaped with my life. There are some ancient abandoned buildings not far from the temple. That's where the monks found me. I had no other place to go, so I stayed."

On the day that Kaz watched the Statemen's trial with the wooden men, he had not succeeded. The young man's Kung Fu, though good, was not good enough to overcome the wooden men. And now Kaz was facing that same trial.

Kaz took a deep breath and approached. Suddenly, the wooden men came to life. Kaz quickly stepped back to assess the situation. He could see that each of the wooden men were affixed to the wall and chains were used to pull on the arms and feet somewhere hidden behind the wall. Some of the wooden men used their ball-like fists while others used their block-like feet. Kaz knew if he did not go forward, though there was no disgrace in not trying, he would not get a second chance.

Kaz entered the hall and the fists of the wooden men began their assault. At first, Kaz was clumsy and he could feel the wooden fists slamming into his body. Then Kaz refocused his thoughts and he brought his own hands into play. Kaz countered each strike that the wooden men made with deliberate precision. Slowly he made his way through the hall countering and blocking with his elbows and hands. Knife hand, cross block, left arm sweep to a right crane's beak strike. This part of the trial seemed to be easier than he thought it would be. Then without warning, Kaz was knocked off his feet. It would teach him to remain focused and not become distracted by is own thoughts.

Kaz could feel the blocky feet of the wooden men kicking him in the ribs. Others tried to stomp on him as he moved across the floor in snake-like fashion, avoiding the other feet. Then Kaz did a handstand and flipped himself so he was again standing on his feet. He found himself at the end of the hall, but as he turned the corner, another row of wooden men stood before him. This time, the figures were more mobile. Kaz entered this hall and suddenly, the wooden men surrounded him. Kaz kicked out trying to make an opening for himself but the wooden men closed in. He could feel their mallet-like hands pounding into him. Other types of Kung Fu moves were required here. Although his arms and legs were growing weary, he had to keep going. As the last of the wooden men came into view, Kaz doubled his efforts, spinning, striking, and kicking as much as he could. When he finally reached the end of the hall, the candle had burned down to three-quarter its size.

Wearily, Kaz followed the short hall to his left and another gate rose as he approached and entered a candle-filled room. In the center was the cauldron, the images of a tiger and a dragon burning brightly on either side.

Kaz stopped for a moment to catch his breath and thought back five months ago when he met Matthew.

Then his father's thoughts intruded.

*You must place your inner forearms on the symbols, lift the cauldron, and move it to the other stand. This will allow you to leave.*

*Allow me to leave?*

*Do it and you will know.*

Kaz looked at his own arms and compared them with the image in his mind. He then approached the cauldron, lowered his body into a horse stance so his arms could reach each of the symbols better, and placed them on the hot metal.

A searing pain shot through him for an instant then he was suddenly aware of his surroundings opening before him. The level of his awareness expounded and he knew far more than he ever had about the universe and its connectedness to all things. Images of his father, mother, and even faces that he never knew came to him, and finally the face in the portrait, Kwai Chang Caine appeared and smiled, all within an instant of time.

Then Kaz lifted the cauldron and placed it on the other stand. As he did this, a door opened and light streamed into the room. Kaz pulled his arms away from the metal, leaving skin behind. He glanced briefly at his arms to see the dark, bloody, reddened flesh where the symbols had done their work. Stumbling forward, Kaz walked out into the sunlight. He raised his arms to the light and collapsed.

The next day, Kaz found himself in his rooms lying on his bed. Bandages had been wrapped around his arms. Though he could feel the sensation of the burns, they did not sting as badly as before. Kaz could sense a presence in the room and recognized it as his father, Paul Thomas Caine.

Caine sat on the bed beside his son. He took Kaz's right hand in his and began to gently massage this fingers.

"You are Shaolin now, my son. Soon, when you are healed, more preparation will be needed for the task ahead. You and I must make a journey. It will not be the same as the challenge that you will be facing. I cannot aid you in that, but it will help you to understand more of what is ahead. Sleep some more. You will not be needed for a couple more days. I am very proud of you."

Caine lowered his son's hand and rose from the bed. He covered Kaz with a blanket then bent down and kissed him on the forehead. Then Caine found a spot on the floor, lowered himself down in lotus position, and settled in to meditate. That simple act was not unusual except this time, there was no stiffness in the older man's limbs. The pain that he had felt before had subsided. The ache in his heart was being replaced by a peace that he had not felt in a long time, and in finding that peace, the wound in his hip was giving way. He realized that Matthew had been right. The pain in his hip was only a manifistation of the pain in his soul. With the discovery that his son was alive, much of the guilt that he had felt had dissipated, and so did the pain in his hip. Perhaps there was a way that he could help his son after all. Caine glanced over toward Kaz and watched his breathing become more even as sleep settled in. From under his robes, Caine brought out what looked like a milky-white medallion.

'I had not been there in years,' he thought 'I hope I can find the box that contains the book. The box is never kept in one place. It is moved every day to keep others from finding it. Even Matthew does not know that the box even exists. I may have to ask for Master Po's assistance.' Caine brushed the medallion with his fingers. 'Oh, grandfather, I hope you can help us.'

The long trek from Chinatown had left the young man weary. What would have taken a day by car had taken nearly two weeks. He had not traveled on foot before, and he realized that it had its advantages. If he had had his old Stealth with him, he would have had to get gas, and he no longer had the income to be able to do that. Plus, he was seeing far more of the country than he ever had.

Peter Caine thought back to the night he packed his bags. A small backpack was all he took, leaving everything behind. He wished he had not left, but in his arrogance, he had violated one of the most important rules, never underestimate your enemy or let him control you. Peter Caine had done both. He felt ashamed of his actions. He could not go back. He had lied to his father in that letter, but Bon Bon Hei had grown too powerful, or so he thought. He should have told his father, asked for his help. Instead, he had allowed his own fear to control the situation. Because of that, three people had lost their lives. There was nothing he could do, but pay the price.

Peter sat down to rest at a small picnic table by the side of the road. He could hear voices over the sound of the passing cars.

"Get out of the car," a man's voice commanded harshly. "I said get out of the car!"

"What do you want from me?"

Peter rose to see what was happening and was quickly on the move when he observed a man reaching into a car to grab hold of a frightened woman.

"I don't think she wants to go with you," he said as he blocked the man from harming the woman.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded the man.

"I am Caine," Peter said simply, a slight smile forming on his lips as thoughts of his father came to him.

"Please, help me. I stopped to eat and he forced his way into my car . . ."

"Shut up! The lady's lying. I just asked her for a ride."

"By forcing her to leave her car?" Peter said calmly.

The man lunged at Peter. The young Shaolin stepped aside and let the man's own momentum carry him forward. He fell on the ground and picked up a fallen branch bent on striking Peter.

"Look out!" The young woman shouted.

Without looking back, Peter kicked out and sent the man to the ground again.

At that moment, a siren blared out. Blue and red lights flashed as the patrol car pulled up behind the women's vehicle. The state patrolman opened the car door and hid behind it like a shield.

"Hold it right there!" he commanded, his weapon drawn.

The young Shaolin stopped and held out his hands where the officer could see them. The patrolman cautiously came forward.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Lay on the ground. Now!" The officer continued to keep his gun trained on the two men.

Peter did as the officer wanted and started to stretch out on the ground. The other man eyed the officer, waiting for a moment to figure a way out of the situation.

"Officer! That young man saved my life," the young woman called out and pointed toward Peter. "It's the other one you want. He tried to hijack my car."

While the officer's focus was distracted by the young woman's explanation, the man that Peter had knocked down lunged for the officer's gun. Suddenly, Peter was there again, this time defending the officer.

"Thanks I owe you one." The officer tossed his cuffs to Peter and the attacker was soon being placed in the back seat of the patrol car after his rights had been read. "Can I know the man's name who saved my life?" The officer stretched out his hand.

The young man took it. "Caine, Peter Caine."

"That name sounds familiar. You wouldn't happen to know a man by the name of Kwai Chang Caine would you?"

"Yes, he's my father," Peter responded. "Why do you ask?"

"He passed through here about seven years ago. Saved my son from drowning. Never got a chance to thank him. What brings you to these parts?"

"Just passing through."

"Do you need a ride anywhere?"

the young woman asked, intrigued by the young man who saved both their lives.

"No, thank you. I think I'll walk. Besides, you should never pick up a stranger, even if he did save your life."

"Where you headed?' asked the officer.

"Everywhere and nowhere. Just wherever the wind takes me."

"That can be a long walk. There's a town not far from here, Winslow. That's where I live. I can offer you a night's lodging and a home cooked meal. My wife Janet makes the greatest pot roast you will ever taste."

"I am honored," Peter bowed to the officer, then turned to the woman. "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah," her tone a little disappointed. "Thanks again for saving my life."

Peter and the officer watched the woman drive off.

"Why don't you climb in the front and we'll take this guy into town and I'll see if he's got any prior's. We seem to be having a rash of carjackings in these parts. A car stops along the road for some reason, change a tire, driver taking a break, and the next thing, the driver's stranded. This has been about the sixth one this month, only this time, we caught someone."

"You may want to check it against the type of cars that are being stolen and exactly where it is that it's happening. You might find it's being done by a gang and they may have a central location somewhere around that area."

"You sound like you could be a cop," the officer stated.

"Yeah, I was," Peter said wistfully.

"Oh, my name's David Carlson. You can call me Dave. You're not a cop any more?"

"No. I'm a Shaolin priest, sort of following in my dad's footsteps you might say."

"So how does someone go from being a cop to being a Shaolin priest?"

The question hung on the air for a while before Peter gave his new found friend an abridged version as they traveled to Winslow, Nebraska.

*****

"You should come to bed. You're still feverish."

"I cannot sleep."

"You're making yourself sick worrying about Peter," Mary Margaret said.

"I feel my son is walking into something that I may not be able to stop."

"Have you tried contacting him?"

"Yes, but he is refusing to answer. He has shut me out and I cannot help him."

"Caine, he's a Shaolin priest now. You have to let him go. All children need to leave the nest sooner or later. He needs to find his own answers. He'll contact you when he's ready."

"I know he has been troubled since Kermit was hurt as well as from the three deaths that had happened. All three were close to him, especially Tommy. I fear that Peter may have left because of those deaths. He may have even felt responsible. And as a Shaolin, he would be required to wander to find peace. I fear I may never see my son again."

Mary Margaret grew silent as she tucked the covers back around the stricken priest. She had a feeling this illness was not from any known virus, but Caine's reaction from feeling helpless that Peter was gone. She had a feeling that this was not the first time he had become ill over matters that were beyond his control. At first when she found him like this, she feared that someone had tried to poison him, but Lo Si had confirmed there was no poison in Caine's system. It was as if Caine was literally making himself sick in order so Peter would notice, and hopefully, come home.

'Oh, Peter. How could you do this? Don't you know your father needs you?' Mary Margaret thought, knowing full well that the young priest could not possibly hear her.

Still, Caine's words had sent a chill of fear up her spine, a fear that Caine would leave to search for Peter. Since Caine's return, their relationship had started out strained. She had been angry with him for not saying goodbye and when he tried to explain, she had refused to listen. Like a schoolgirl, she reacted by going out with the first man that asked her to try to make Caine jealous, but instead, it had backfired. The hurt in his eyes had shamed her into realizing she had made one of the worst mistakes she had ever made. They were once again trying to rebuild their relationship. As she watched him fall into a fitful sleep, Mary Margaret realized she did not want to lose Caine. If he had a need to search for Peter, she would let him go, but this time, she would insist one going with him.

It woud be two weeks before Kaz and Caine could journey to the place his father had mentioned. Kaz needed time for his newly acquired brands to heal and Paul Thomas Caine had to search for what was needed in order for them to make the journey. He would begin in the library. Caine sighed as he made his way down the hall. He briefly made eye contact with Matthew as he spotted him entering the old children's sleeping chamber. He could still sense the anger that his cousin felt for him when he discovered what Caine had done. 'If only Matthew could understand,' he thought to himself. But Matthew was not a father, and may never be one. Caine hoped that Matthew would come to realize that Kaz needed more than just a history lesson to fully understand what his destiny intaled. He thought on the words they exchanged and hoped that there would be peace between them before it was all over.

Paul Thomas Caine pulled out the white crystal medallion from deep within his robes. He had never told his cousin about the medallion, even when he learned just who Matthew Griffin was and his relationship to him. His father, the last Kwai Chang Caine, had entrusted it to him on the day that he died, just as he had given Paul the ever present worn leather pouch that had been in their family for generations. Now, Kaz was entrusted with the pouch and its contents, except for the medallion. That would come to him as well, but not before this first journey.

Caine grasped the medallion and began pacing the library. He waited at each shelf that he came to, but nothing happened. It was apparent that what he was looking for was not in this room. He would have to make a systematic search of the Temple. It was well passed the hour when everyone had retired for the night. Caine dismissed the thought that the search could take all night, but sighed deeply and continued onto the next space. The Temple was deceptively large, with many of its room lying below ground. At one time, Caine had discovered a hidden room filled with many artifacts that even Matthew knew nothing about. That room Caine kept to himself. What he found there had disturbed him greatly. Caine breathed a heavy sigh as he came upon the classroom that had stood silent and empty for many years. A layer of dust could be seen on the tables from the flickering candlelight. He made a mental note to speak to one of the brothers and have the room cleaned.

Cain continued his search, checking each room and alcove. Though he wanted to avoid the sleeping chambers, he knew sooner or later they would also have to be searched. After three hours had gone by, Caine was beginning to become weary. There had to be another way.

"You are searching for something?"

Caine nearly jumped out of his skin, his focus having been so deep on his task that he had not heard the old priest approach.

"Master Po. You nearly startled me out of a year's growth," Caine said breathless.

"That would be fascinating to see," said Master Po with a grin.

Caine glared at the old priest then smiled. "Perhaps you can help me. I am searching for . . ."

"I know, Paul Thomas Caine. Your grandfather awaits you. Bring Kaz to the infirmary. You will find what you are seeking there."

Caine watched as the old priest turned back, marveling at how the old Shaolin could know so much. Master Po had always puzzled Caine. He was quite ancient in his appearance, but his essence had a youthfullness that was timeless. Even when Paul Thomas had been a child, Master Po looked old then, but had the agility of a younger priest. Master Po seemed to defy the laws of nature. Just how old Master Po was had always intrigued the younger Shaolin. Perhaps one day, he would know just who Master Po was and how he could live to be so ancient.

The rain pored down soaking the lone traveler. The wanderer was no longer seeing the world as it slowly passed by him with every step, but sought for much needed shelter. A dark shadowy structure loomed out at him to the right. It's weatherworn walls and partially exposed rafters told of its once useful past.

Peter Caine headed for the most protected portion of the barn to discover that it was not completely abandoned. Deep in its most sheltered area, someone had piled bails of drying hay to be used for winter feed. This was the most perfect spot that any exhausted lone traveler could ask for. Though it would have been nice to have a fire and brew some tea, the fire could attract unwanted guests or might result in the farmer losing his supply of hay for his livestock.

Peter explored the area and found a loose mound of straw in which to burrow down to get warm. Before creating his nest, the young Shaolin removed his sodden clothing and hung them up to dry. He hoped that once the rain had stopped, a breeze might come up to help out the process. Peter then searched through his backpack and within a plastic bag, pulled out a dry shirt and a pair of jeans. Putting on the clean clothes reminded him that he had not had a shower since leaving David Carlson and his family nearly a week ago. He should have at least taken the time to bath in a nearby stream or lake, but the opportunity to do so had become less frequent as farmland was slowly giving way to more dessert-like surroundings. He promised himself that the next time he saw a lake, he would do just that. Still, it would have been nice to have had a warm bath to set off the chill of the cold rain showers he had over the past two days. He had been lucky to find shelter at all along this stretch of highway.

As Peter settled in for the night, his thoughts again drifted toward home. Faces of his friends came to the forefront of his mind and he wondered if they missed him. Jody would be cleaning up her desk to prepare for the next day's caseload. Kermit, though unofficially still with the force, could be doing a search trying to track him down. Frank Strenlich would be bellowing out orders as usual, but in his own way, secretly cared for every detective under his wing. Blake would be getting excited over the latest surveillance equipment, while T.J. would be trying to keep his commissioner father off the Captain's back. Captain Simms, a strong woman, who reminded him so much of his foster father, Paul Blaisdell, would worry over every detail of every case that came across her desk. He wondered if Kermit had successfully found Paul and returned him home after fighting his demons. And Mary Margaret, she hopefully would be spending as much time with his father as possible to keep him from worrying too much about his wayward son.

Peter settled down into the sweet smelling hay, but could not close his eyes. It had been like this ever since he had left Chinatown. He was all right during the day, but at night, the loneliness and the nightmares would come, forcing him to abandon sleep and to continue on his path to who-knew-where until exhaustion overtook him. It was strange being on the road like this. For once, he understood just how his father must have felt during those 15 years of wandering. After the temple had been destroyed, Peter had not been with Ping Hai long before he had been sent to the orphanage. Two years later, he had been fostered by the Blaisdell family. He realized that in all that time, he had not truly been alone, while his father had wandered for 15 years never staying in one place for very long. It was no wonder his father had a hard time talking about those times.

But this time, exhaustion did settle in and the young Shaolin could indulge his need for sleep. As always the dreams started out pleasant. On this night, Peter's dreams carried him back to his days as an instructor.

"Peter!" Caine bolted up right in bed at the same moment as his son. His breath was ragged and his head pounded from the strain. His son's distress was palpable, but he could not comfort him. The distance was far too great. The image of Bon Bon Hei from Peter's dream threatened to overwhelm his senses. Caine was beginning to understand more of the reason for his son's departure. 'My son, oh to have to be forced to choose such a path,' Caine thought. 'It was not your fault. Bon Bon Hei has done this. I should have stopped him when I had the chance. Please, Peter, return to me. I cannot lose you.'

"No!" Kaz bolted upright in bed. This was his second dream regarding Peter Caine, but this time, the dream was far different. He could sense the young man's guilt and grief over the death of a young boy. Then a more menacing force, in the form of a man had entered, only the force did not feel like it was a part of the dream but had intruded some how. The man had an evil about him that reminded Kaz of Ankar Moore, but far worse. Shaken, Kaz brought his knees to his chest and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

"Kaz, my son. I heard you cry out. What is it?" Paul Thomas Caine rushed to his son's bedside and sat next to him. "Kaz, tell me what is wrong."

Kaz swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to choke the life out of him. He had never had such a frightening dream. He felt as if whatever the menace had been, it would be coming for him soon.

"I . . .it was a dream. Nothing more."

Caine looked deep into his son's eyes and could see that Kaz was not being truthful, but to push him into trying to tell him the truth would only cause him to withdraw further. He would have to wait until Kaz was ready to reveal what it was that disturbed him so.

"Very well," Caine said gently. "When you are ready to talk, I will be here to listen. We must go, now. The time has come for you to begin to fulfill your destiny."

Kaz looked up into the face of the older man. "The journey you spoke of?"

"Yes, we must see someone. Come, the Ancient awaits us in the infirmary."

Kaz rose from the bed and put on the shirt of his student gi. He reached for his sword, but his hand was halted.

"You will not need that. Where we are going, weapons are not allowed."

"Where are we going?" Kaz asked.

"To a very special place."

Silently, Caine led them both into the infirmary. Candles burned on every available surface. In the center of it all stood a pedestal with a box. Caine pulled from his robes the white crystal medallion. As he approached the box, the crystal started to glow. The same symbol imbedded in the box's lid also started to glow, confirming that this was indeed what he sought. Caine opened the box and depressed the hidden mechanism, releasing the hidden drawer. He withdrew the white book.

"What is that?" Kaz asked.

"A gateway."

"Through a book?" Kaz shook his head in disbelief.

"I must caution you, Paul Thomas Caine," A voice intruded behind them.

Kaz started. He had not heard the approach of Master Po. He watched as his father turned toward the ancient priest.

"Why?" Caine asked.

"If you leave here, there could be dire consequences," the Ancient said.

"You know I must go with my son. He would have no one to guide him. Watch over this place while I am gone."

"I will, my friend."

Kaz listened to the two older Shaolin. What did the old priest mean? As Kaz was pondering that question, Caine laid the white book against the box and motioned his son to come closer. He then opened the book to reveal the image of a temple bathed in golden sunlight. In the blink of an eye, light surrounded the pair and they were gone.

"Hurry back, my friend," the Ancient said quietly. "Your presence will be missed, more than you will ever know."

Caine walked into the morgue followed by the newest detective of the 101st Precinct. He could not help but notice that the usual constant stuttering of Nicky Elder was absent. What could cause the young coroner to be so silent? Caine was led to the freezer-like compartments and could see that one of them had been opened and a body draped in the usual white sheet was before him. He turned toward Detective Tom Clayton and asked,

"What am I here for?"

"Didn't anyone tell you?"

"No. I was instructed that I had to come here."

"We found this body down by the waterfront last night. Someone said she'd been seen with you in Chinatown but they wouldn't give out her name. Maybe you can shed some light."

"She?" Caine questioned.

The young detective pulled back the sheet. Caine turned to face the dead girl.

"No. Cheryl."

"So you do know the young woman in question?"

"Yes. She would assistant me in my apothecary work. She had become like a daughter to me. How did this happen?"

"No one knows. Some of the other detectives in the department seem to think you might have some mystical ability to read the dead."

"Yes." Caine gathered his resolve, though he was clearly visibly shaken from what he had seen. He placed his hands over the young woman. Someone had not only taken her chi, they had ripped her soul from her body, leaving a deep dark chasm. No one should have suffered such a fate. Tears streamed down Caine's face. As he cupped the face of his dead assistant, he could also see multiple cuts that had ravaged her body. This was more than the Death of 1000 Cuts. It was a violation of what all Shaolin held dear. "Oh, Cheryl, I will find whoever did this to you."

Caine bent his head down and kissed the cold forehead. It was only a year since Cheryl, his son, the Ancient, and Mary Margaret had brought him back from his Bardo. Still weeping, he rose and recovered the young woman's face and slowly walked from the room.

Tom Clayton kept an eye on Caine and was quickly by his side as he saw the stricken Shaolin lean against a nearby wall.

"I'll take you home."

"No. I must inform Mary Margaret and the Ancient. We must make arrangements for her to be buried. And I must find a way to inform my son."

Clayton asked, "What happened back there when you 'read" her? You looked as if you were about to collapse."

"It is difficult. Her soul had been ripped from her. I must find this killer who has violated her."

"Time out Caine," Clayton said, his tone becoming cautionary. "You can't do that. This is police business. You could be arrested for interfering in a police investigation. If you know something, you tell me. I'll see that it's taken care of."

"The demon who has done this is powerful."

"Demon?!? Caine, I can believe that some person ripped her to shreds with a knife but a demon?"

"Demons take many forms. If you go against this demon, you would not survive."

"Caine give me something more substantial. A name. If you know who did this you have to tell me."

Caine gave out a deep sigh, "Very well. His name is Bon Bon Hei"

"Bon Bon Hei? He's not a demon and I have never heard anything about him being a killer."

"That is debatable," Caine said more to himself, recalling the conversation that Peter and he had after returning from Shambhala and their subsequent battle with the Dark Warrior.

"And what's that suppose to mean?"

"Only that Bon Bon Hei is more than what he seems, Detective." With those words, Caine gathered his remaining strength and headed back to Chinatown and to his apartment.

****

The apartment was empty. All the better for it. Slowly the intruder approached a shelf and took down a small jar replacing it with another that looked exactly like it. Sooner or later he knew his prey would use that particular jar. It not only contained the Shaolin's favorite tea, but a little something extra. His task accomplished, the intruder left the way he came.

****

A few hours later, Caine returned to find the Ancient waiting for him. He told Lo Si what had transpired at the morgue.

"You must not blame yourself, my friend. You were not linked to her the same way you are to your son. You would not have been able to prevent it."

"Master, I do not know what to do. I know my son needs me, but with Cheryl's death, I cannot leave. I must find the one responsible. I must find Bon Bon Hei."

"Are you sure it was him?" the Ancient asked, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, though the police think otherwise. There is no hard evidence linking the man, yet I know it was him." Caine could not help thinking of his son when he had said the same thing regarding Kelly's boyfriend and his untimely death.

"I shall make you some tea. It will calm your chi."

"No. Thank you, Master," Caine said with a sigh. "I need to meditate. I must try to contact my son."

"I understand. I shall leave you in peace."

Ten minutes later, the sound of something breaking came to the meditating Shaolin's ears. He was quickly on his feet and rushing to the back of the apartment to discover Lo Si lying on the floor. Caine could see that the Ancient had taken down the jar that contained his favorite tea and had brewed a pot. On the floor was a broken teacup, it's contents spilled all over the floor.

"The tea. Poisoned," the Ancient tried to talk through clenched teeth, pain registering in his face.

Kwai Chang Caine picked up the Ancient and laid him on the raised platform. He quickly went over to the shelf and grabbed a dark bottle. "Drink this." Caine poured some of the liquid into the Ancient's mouth.

"I do not think it will be enough, my friend. This poison is stronger than others I have experienced."

"I will take you to Shambhala. They may have herbs there that will help."

"You will not make it in time. The book is not here."

"I do not need the book," Caine said. He went to another shelf and from a small ornate box, he pulled out the amulet of Kwai Chang. Caine picked up the Ancient and grasped the amulet between his hands. He focused his chi, and a doorway opened in front of them, revealing the Temple of Shambhala. Caine walked forward, and as he did, the gateway closed behind him, leaving the apartment empty.

Peter walked up the road leading to the ruins of the temple. His soul felt lost. He had thought by leaving he might protect his father, but all it did was bring on more death. While meditating, he felt his father reach out to him to tell him of Cheryl's death and the poisoning of the Ancient. This time, Peter did not shut his father out, sensing that Caine was in deep pain and needed his comfort. For a moment, Peter had forgotten about his own pain, until his father told him whom he suspected of planting the poison. Once again, Peter's own guilt rose to the surface and threatened to overshadow his thoughts.

*I believe the poison was meant for me, my son.*

*Do you know who did it?*

*I believe it may be the work of Bon Bon Hei.*

Silence filled the void.

*Peter?*

*I'm all right, Pop. I . . .* Shame filled Peter, shame for having not told his father the truth of why he had left and having shut him out for so long.

*My son, I know why you left. It was not your fault. Bon Bon Hei used your sense of duty as a priest to trick you into leaving. Please, Peter. Come home.*

*I'm sorry, Pop. I can't, not yet. There's something I need to do.*

*Do not be too long, my son.*

*Don't worry. I am thinking about rebuilding the temple. I'm sure if it comes down to it, you can handle Bon Bon Hei yourself. I . . . uh . . . I'd just be in the way.*

*No, you would not "be in the way." You are my son. You have never been a burden. Please, Peter. I need you. Come home.*

Peter grew silent again. His father had always expressed that he was a part of him and that their lives would be intertwined, but never had he ever expressed that he was needed. Guilt at leaving his father behind to fend off the likes of Bon Bon Hei filled him. And yet, Peter did not know if he had the skills necessary to help his father, despite the fact that he was Shaolin. Peter needed to be alone, to think through what he needed to do, he only hoped he would make the right choice.

*Pop. I . . . I need some time to think. I don't know if I can even make it in time to help. You may have to handle Bon Bon Hei without me. Maybe Master Khan could help?*

*He is with the Emperor. He cannot help. Please, my son. Do what is necessary and what is in your heart. Know that I love you. Bon Bon Hei cannot take that away. I will wait for your return.*

Peter sensed the lingering of his father's love as the link was dissolved. Anger filled him as he realized that his father had been right. Bon Bon Hei had tricked him into leaving. He should have stayed and asked for his father's help to confront Bon Bon Hei, but like a fool, he had not seen through the obvious. Now his father was facing the danger alone. He knew he could give Annie a call and be on a plane within a few hours, if he could get to an airport quickly enough, but he just didn't know if he could really be of any help. He felt so inadequate. Peter wandered down the road and found himself by the lake, and kneeled by his mother's gravesite.

"Oh, Mother, tell me what I must do. I've made a mess of things. Father's in trouble and I can't help him."

For several moments, all Peter heard was silence.

"Excuse me. You seem troubled. Perhaps I can help."

Peter turned to see a young Shaolin in saffron robes. His eyes widened as he thought he recognized the young man. Was it really him?

"Jason?"

"Do we know each other?"

"It's me Peter, Peter Caine."

"Peter? Is it really you? I cannot believe it. I saw you fall during that terrible night. How is it that you're alive?"

"Ping Hai got me out. Oh, Jason. You don't know how good it is to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Some of us have come back to rebuild. Would you believe it, Master Lowery's wife . . ."

"Rachel, yeah I know her," Peter interrupted.

"She had been receiving a great many donations since building the shrine in memory of Master Lowery. The money has been placed in a special fund so the temple can be rebuilt."

"You mean the townspeople actually want to see the temple rebuilt?"

"Yes," Jason replied. "Contrary to what others believed, it was only that small group that had been led by Vance Cavandaugh that wanted to see the temple destroyed. The rest of the town had been bullied by Vance and his men. If they showed any resistance against him, he would have withdrawn his considerable financial support or worse. He wouldn't let any one get near the temple after everyone left. After a time, everyone just gave up trying to do anything."

"You mean he used fear to keep the townspeople in line," Peter asked. "I'm not surprised."

"Peter, you've got to tell me everything that's happened since that night. The one thing I'll never forget is the look on your father's face. He was so stricken. He wouldn't eat anything for two days. He left without saying a word to anyone but Master Ping Hai. Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?"

"Oh yeah," Peter said, imitating one of his dearest friends, tears brimming in his eyes as he recalled their very emotional reunion.

"Do you think he will return?" Jason asked. "He was the life force of the temple. It would not be the same without him."

Peter thought of his father. The need to be with him to help him defeat Bon Bon Hei warred with his desire to complete a dead little boy's dream. It warmed his heart to know that his father really needed him in his life, not just as a Shaolin, but as a son. Realistically, Peter felt his skills as a Shaolin were just not as capable as his father's. It was going to take a Shambhala Master to defeat the likes of Bon Bon Hei.

'Sorry, Pop. I hope you understand. I need to do this. Tommy would have wanted me to stay and finish this. My skills are just not good enough and I need some time to know what I need to do. Maybe by helping to rebuild the temple, I can find the answers I'm seeking.'

Kaz stared in awe. Only moments ago he and his father had been standing in the infirmary at the Shaolin temple and the next moment they were standing at the base of the steps of another temple that looked very much like the one they left. This temple was bathed in golden light. White silken banners could be seen with what looked like a stylized radiating sun with a complex central design at the center. As Kaz looked around in wonderment, a monk in white iridescent robes appeared. He wore a hood that was drawn up around his face similar to what Caine wore. Without a word spoken, the monk commanded them to follow.

They were led down a series of corridors that were both familiar and alien to Kaz. It felt like the temple that he had been a part of for nearly six months except here, too, the halls seemed to be bathed in warm radiant light. Kaz could not help but observe that his father seemed to know where they were going. As they entered a large room, Kaz recognized the space. It was an exact duplicate of his quarters except there was a small table off to one side covered with scrolls and artifacts. Sitting at the table was an old man. His back was to Kaz and and Caine as they entered.

"My grandson. I am pleased to see that you have returned. It has been a very long time."

*Grandson?* Kaz thought. *Who is he?*

"I am Thomas Rykker Caine," the old man said as he turned to face them.

Kaz stared back at the man sitting before him. Except for his age, he had the same face as himself along with a mixture of other features. His eyes were the familiar hazel. His face was lean and his mouth full. It held a hint of a smile.

"Kaz, I would like you to meet your great-grandfather. This is Kaz Oshay Caine, my son."

"Not Kwai Chang?" Asked Thomas Rykker with a knowing smile.

"No. His mother named him. I did not have any say in the matter."

Kaz gave both older men a questioning gaze.

Thomas Caine answered his great-grandson's unvoiced question. "There has always been a Kwai Chang Caine, ever since the beginning. The very first Kwai Chang Caine's grandson carried the name. Peter Caine's son carried the name. Every other generation carried the name right down to my son. You are the first grandchild who has not carried that name. Perhaps, one day, your son may carry it."

Kaz looked doubtfully at the old man. He had never thought about having a family. A Range Guide's life was often filled with uncertainty. If a child was born from the results of a union, even a short lived one, male Guides seldom knew until years later. It was mostly the female that raised the children, unless the paur agreed to remain together, then their union was considered complete.

Again, the eldest Caine replied. "Do not be so sure that you will not. You are now Shaolin and it is the responsibility of a Shaolin and a father to teach his son."

Kaz felt uncomfortable from his great-grandfather's words. Even though the brands declared him to be Shaolin, he still saw himself as a Guide. If he chose to to live the life of a Shaolin, it would be a difficult path to follow. Though from what he learned about the Shaolin, some of what they believed was no different than what he had been taught as a Guide. There were difference though that he would have a hard time getting use to, such as their dislike of taking any life and their refusal to even carry a weapon.

Kaz sensed a feeling of deep shame and failure and realized it came from his father. 'He really does feel that he's failed me by not being there. There is no need. A male Guide would not feel this way.'

"Do not berate yourself, my grandson. I know if you had the opportunity, you would not have allowed what happened. It has always been a difficult path for the Caine line. Not one time has father and son ever remained together for very long. Only Peter Caine and his father were known to spend more time with each other than most. I believe Peter Caine and his son KC were together until he took the brands. Though if it had not been for Kwai Chang, Peter would not have even been alive to even produce a son. We only know from Peter's journals that it had devastated him when his father disappeared without a trace soon after Peter's son had been born. Peter also left the temple after his son took the brands and was never heard from again. Some said it was to search for his father."

"The story you're telling me doesn't make any sense. I was told that I was to save Peter Caine. You're telling me that Peter's father saved him."

"And who told you that?" asked the eldest Caine, a twinkle came to his eye as if he knew more than what was being said.

Kaz turned from his great-grandfather and faced his father, questioning whether he should answer the old priest. Caine gave his son an imperceptible nod that told him to continue.

"Matthew told me if I did not, the Range Guides and the Shaolin would disappear," Kaz answered.

"Aw, now I understand," Thomas Caine said, turning to face his grandson. "It would seem your cousin has misinterpreted the obvious."

"I do not understand. Peter Caine is not the person I must save?"

"And the Last shall save the other who was the Beginning and the First of the New," Thomas Caine recited. "It is easy to see where Matthew's interpretation went wrong."

"I still do not understand," Kaz said. "I keep having dreams about Peter Caine."

"Peter Caine is the link, but he was not the beginning of the first of the new."

"Then who was?"

"A young boy who was murdered before he could fulfill his destiny, Thomas David Carradine."

Kaz's face paled. That name had been synonymous with the creation of the Range Guides. It was said that Thomas Carradine had written the foundation of what was to be their code. But that was nearly 1000 years ago. The Range Guides were said to have come out of the last Great Neutron War 600 years ago from some mysterious place. Even Kaz's knowledge was sketchy at best. The only one who knew the truth had been Oshay, but she died before she could impart that information to him.

"What do you know of Carradine and what link does he have with Peter Caine?" Kaz asked.

"Thomas Carradine was a student of Peter Caine's. The truth is, Peter Caine was not suppose to return to the temple for another three years. That would have made it the Year of the Dragon, exactly 1000 years ago. In that year, Peter brought with him the first of the new students who entered the newly rebuilt temple. It was a new beginning for the Shaolin order in what was the United States. There were no other temples in the U.S. Young Carradine surprised everyone with his natural abilities. He was also compared to the Caine line because he, too, had the gift. Thomas Carradine was to go on to become one of the most powerful of the Shambhala Masters. His name is still reveared within these walls. But all that changed when seven year old Thomas Carradine was murdered and Peter Caine returned to help rebuild the temple sooner than expected and a powerful enemy returned to see it destroyed, and the line of Caine with it."

"You said Carradine been murdered, how?" Kaz asked.

"That is what you will need to find out and prevent, my son." Paul Thomas Caine interjected.

"In order to do that, you will need something that belonged to the boy," said Thomas Caine. "We will have to speak with the archivist. He will know what we are looking for."

"He is still here, grandfather?" Paul Thomas asked.

"Yes. His son still refuses to acknowledge his existence, so he remains here. He has no other place to go. Returning to the temple will only bring on more pain."

"Matthew is stubborn, but he has a good heart. I will speak to my cousin. This rift between them cannot go on. It is a family matter that must be worked out between them."

"I do not understand. Matthew is your cousin?" Kaz said. "If that is so, then . . . "

"Yes, Kaz. You are also related to Matthew," Thomas Caine stated. "It is a long and complicated history. Like the Caine line, the line of Griffin was also protected. At one point, the line of Caine and the line of Griffin were joined. Though Matthew and your father can trace their family history back to that time and see that relationship; in truth, it is only a distant connection. They call each other cousin as a reminder of that connection. They are, however, as close as brothers."

"Unfortunately, Matthew and I have had a disagreement regarding Kaz and myself."

"He did not wish to tell you about Kaz? I must speak to Matthew myself. When this business is over, I will come with you see that it is cleared up. Right now, we must speak to the archivist. What has happened between father and son must also wait for another time."

Thomas Rykker Caine rose stiffly from the chair. Caine took his arm to assist his grandfather.

"There is no need, my grandson. I may be old, nearly 110, but I am not that feeble. I had just been sitting far too long in that chair and I am just a little stiff."

Kaz stared at the old man with wonder. He had never heard of anyone living that long. The life of a Range Guide was often filled with perils and life could be short.

"That comes from living here in this place," Thomas Caine said, answering Kaz's unspoken question. "You will find that Shambhala is a place filled with mystery. Many who live here find that their lives are often prolonged or even lengthend. There are special herbs that grow only here that help prolong ones life and even some say reverse some of the effects of aging. I have been studying them for many years."

Thomas Caine grabbed his nearby cane, and using it for extra support, stretched to remove any kinks, then walked smartly from the room. Paul and Kaz followed closely behind. He led them down another series of corridors and came upon a large set of ornate doors. He pushed them open to reveal a room filled with shelves. Even the walls were lined with niches where bamboo tubes of all sized could be seen.

"I thought that Master Mathew's collection was the only one?" Kaz said, impressed with what he saw.

"Did he say that?" A tall monk approached them; an amused look was on his face. He was not that extraordinary in his appearance except for the streak of gray that ran through his dark hair. "My son likes to think that he is the only one who preserves the knowledge of the ages. Yet, he foolishly ends up misplacing half of what is there in his temple. Oh, my name's Peter K. Griffin, but you can call me Kermit. Don't know why, sounds too much like the noise a frog makes."

Kaz reacted as if he had seen a ghost. "You are the other man in the photographs."

"Photographs?" the archivist questioned.

Kaz explained to the archivist about the album that Matthew had shown him.

"Oh so that is where that went. I should have known. He keeps taking things without my permission. Caine, make sure he returns it to my quarters back at the temple. It must be returned here. If that book is lost, we will have no record of that time."

"I will do my best, but you and he must resolve your differences." Caine stated.

"I know you are right, my friend. But it is so difficult to talk with a son who thinks you're going senile and only believes that Shambhala is a mythical place. He does not realize how important this place is to the survival of our order. I'd hoped one day he woud become its archivist. The Griffins have always prided themselves on being able to obtain the most valuable information and even the most scarce. As to your statement young man," the archivist turned to face Kaz. "I may look like him but I am not he. You would never catch me wearing those glasses of his. I prefer not to look through a sea of green. Now what is it I can do for you, gentlemen?"

"We need a certain artifact belonging to Thomas Carradine," Caine said.

The archivist turned back to the shelves and began searching through the various boxes. He soon came upon a box that had a carving of an open hand on top of it. A circle with a series of smaller circles inside of it was inscribed in the center of the palm. He opened the box and pulled out a white silk sash. Spots of what appeared to be rust marred the fabric.

"That is odd. Those spots were not on there before," Peter Griffin said.

Paul Thomas Caine took the sash and handed it to his son.

The moment the fabric touched Kaz's hands, images of the dead child from his dream came to him and he sank breathless to the floor. 'No! It cannot be! This sash belongs to him?' Kaz's thoughts cried out. He looked into the face of the archivist and pleaded, "Tell me. Do you have a record of all the students who entered the newly built temple?"

"Yes, I believe so," said Peter Griffin. He scanned the shelves and found the book he sought. He opened to the beginning. "This is strange. There are conflicting reports here. We know the name of the temple was Su Lum, but here there is a record stating that it was named after Thomas Carrradine. One list has him as the very first student to enter, another does not. Even the dates do not match. I don't understand. These records have been tampered with."

"It's starting." Thomas Rykker Caine spoke up.

"What is starting?" Kaz questioned.

"The end." said Paul Matthew.

"Both of you must return. Kaz, the sash that you hold in your hand will propell you to Thomas Carradine. Only you can do this."

Bon Bon Hei paced his personal meditation space. It had been several weeks since the last killing. He had learned that the jar of tea that contained the poison had been discovered by Caine, but not in the manner that he had hoped. Still, he smiled at the fact that the Ancient had been the one to drink the poisoned tea. He at least, would be out of the way for some time. Little did they know, that particular poison would remain in the system for several weeks and then leave the person weak for months, if they survived the initial stages.

Bon Bon Hei brushed his hands along the sword of the Dark Warrior as it rested on the altar. It had not been easy to acquire it, but it was the first item that he needed in order to bring his Master back. The next item would require the skills of a Shambhala Master and he knew just whose skills he would employ. If he refused his request, the woman now in his possession would die. There was also one other little matter that needed taking care of.

"Peter Caine must not return here. Go to the temple. Make certain he stays there, permanently. I will take care of his father."

"Yes. Master."

*****

Caine had returned from Shambhala with a heavy heart. The Ancient would take a long time to recover from what had been done to him. While there, he realized that he needed to inform Mary Margaret, so he had sent a messenger. He did not expect, however, to be gone for several weeks. 'Peter must also be worried,' he thought. 'I have been gone far too long. I will contact him as soon as I am able. He may be waiting for my return.'

Caine entered the empty apartment. His son had not returned as he had hoped. Perhaps it had been for the best. He may still be out in California assisting in rebuilding the temple, a thought which never even was considered a possibility. If it were possible, then Peter would be part of those who would be responsible in bringing back the Shaolin order to this country. Caine could not have been more proud at that moment and was glad that his son had decided to stay. He did not relish the idea that Peter may have ended up going against Bon Bon Hei alone if Peter had returned while he had been in Shambhala. Peter's skills as a Shaolin were still coming into fluition, even after the branding. Sometimes it would take as much as five years for a newly-made Shaolin priest to be fully comfortable in their new skills and new responsibilities. Perhaps this opportunity would give Peter a chance to grow more into those skills.

Caine entered the large workspace that also doubled as a kitchen area. The thought of making himself a cup of tea was immediately dismissed when he remembered what had been done to Ping Hai. He would have to inspect every jar of dried herb to be sure that the rest had not been contaminated. As he was about to begin, he spotted a small white envelope sitting on the workbench.

Caine raced to the private kwoon and lying on the altar, he found her gun and badge, the I.D. clearly showing to let him know just whom it was Bon Bon Hei had taken. What he did not expect was that the badge was smeared with blood.

"Mary Margaret," Caine whispered. He had to get her back. He could not lose her. Since the rebuilding of their relationship, he realized that he needed her. She had been one of very few women who had loved and accepted him for who and what he was completely, not since Laura had he felt such acceptance and love. Not only that, without her love and help, Peter and the Ancient would not have been able to go into his Bardo and save him. "Peter, he will be devastated by this." Bon Bon Hei was right. His son could not help him. With his son out in California and the Ancient in Shambhala, Kwai Chang Caine was alone in dealing with this matter. The thought of fulfilling Bon Bon Hei's yet unmentioned request did not set well with the Shaolin, but whatever the request might be, he may not be able to refuse for the sake of Mary Margaret's life.

****

Mary Margaret woke into darkness. What had happened? Where was she? All she could remember was that she had been on her way to see Kwai Chang. Her thoughts drifted to him and she had not realized just when she began calling him by his first and middle name. It brought a warmth to her, but for now where she was being held was her main concern. Just at that moment, she could sense another's presence enter wherever she had been imprisoned.

"Where am I? You better have a good explanation for this . . ."

"Silence!"

The force of the man's voice caused Mary Margaret to shiver.

"For now, you are my guest. No harm will come to you; unless that is up to your Shaolin."

"No harm? What do you call this?" Mary Margaret had pulled her hand away from a cut that was on the side of her temple. Blood could be seen on her hand.

"It was necessary so the Shaolin would know the seriousness of the situation and that I spoke the truth."

"Who are you?" Mary Margaret tried to peer through the glare, but the man stood directly in front of the light, blocking any possible means for identification.

"It does not matter who I am. If it becomes necessary, your death will be the culminating factor in aiding me to destroy the Shaolin."

"I don't think so pal."

"We shall see."

The presence was gone and Mary Margaret was again alone in the darkness, but this time, fear grew within her. She had never been threatened with death before except when she had been shot. Caine had given her part of his chi to help strengthen her during that time. If only she could reach out to him and let him know where she was, but she had a feeling that she was not where she could be found that easily.

*****

*POP! NOOO! DON'T*

*I have no choice my son.*

Peter woke with a start. The dream had left him shaken. Something was terribly wrong. Ever since he had left, it felt like their lives were not their own. Bon Bon Hei had now managed to take control of his father and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Peter, are you all right? You cried out in your sleep."

"I'm all right Sam. It was just a bad dream. Go back to bed."

"I can't sleep. I'm worried about Mom."

"She will be all right. She should be home by tomorrow. I'm going to check on the shrine. You get some more sleep."

"Okay, Goodnight, Peter."

"Goodnight, Sam."

Peter hugged his knees to his chest. 'Oh, Pop this is all my fault. I should have come home when you asked me to. No, I should never have left.'

Peter got up from the bed and walked out to the shrine. He looked up in the direction to where the temple was and saw the glow from the campfires. They were working round the clock, using their hands and traditional tools to rebuild what must have taken at least several years to complete. When construction began, Rachel offered the monks and priests the use of modern tools and equipment but they refused. His thoughts drifted back to a conversation that he and Rachel had a few weeks ago.

Peter lit the candles in the shrine and settled down among them. Before, he was not much on meditating, but lately, he was realizing that by stilling his mind, he could reach farther than he had before. He had to discover what the dream he had was all about and what his father had no choice in doing.

As Peter drifted into meditation, his mind opened to the source of all things. He could feel the stillness and sense the thoughts of others. He quickly let that fade into the background until he was only aware of the chirping of the crickets and his own heartbeat. Then he reached out for the one mind in the entire world he wanted so much to touch and discovered . . . nothing. It was as if he no longer existed. That was impossible. He would have known if his father were gone from this world. Something was terribly wrong.

Peter rose from the floor and began pacing the shrine's small area. What could have happened? Where was his father? Dread filled Peter at the though that he would never see his father again.

'I can't stay, but I will be back. My father needs me. We should have dealt with Bon Bon Hei first before this. They can finish the temple without me. I'll be back, but not before I find my father. And if I can't . . . ' the thought was left unfinished. He did not want to think of the possibility that he would never find his father alive again. 'At least I will have a place to return to and see that the Shaolin return to the world, and maybe to raise a son some day of my own. I just hope I find my father before that happens. I'd like to see his face when I do. '

At that moment, all hell broke loose. The explosion rocked the foundations of the shrine. That came from the direction of the temple! His father forgotten for the moment, Peter raced toward the house and nearly ran into Sam.

"Quickly Sam. We must help."

"What happened?" Sam asked, deep concern etched in his face.

"I don't know. But we will soon find out."

Caine and Kaz returned to the temple to discover chaos. The sounds of shouting and blaster fire could be heard.

"Where is Master Po? He should be here," Caine said with concern. Then another entered his thoughts. 'Matthew, if anything should happen to him . . .'

Kaz stuffed the sash into his shirt and raced toward the door of the infirmary. He had to get his sword. It was the only way to defend against whomever was attacking the priests. They may know kung fu, but going against blasters required other means. Blasters were sudden and quick. Destruction was inevidable. When a blaster hit you, that was it. You would disappear, swallowed by the beam. No one ever came back from a blaster hit. Only a Range Guide knew how to avoid such a weapon. The other sounds could be heard, weapons discharging in rapid succession. It was a sound that had not been heard in over 1000 years.

"Kaz, wait!" Caine tried to stop his son when they were both brought up short. Master Po was standing in the doorway. Blood was all over his robes and he was carrying someone in his arms. Caine paled as he recognized whom it was that Master Po held.

'No! Matthew!' Caine was stricken. His cousin was dead.

"Master, who is attacking the temple?" Kaz asked, taking charge of the situation.

"I do not know. I have never seen them before." Master Po carried the dead monk and placed his body on a nearby platform. He smoothed out the robes and cupped Matthew's cooling cheek in his hand. "What kind of weapon would do this, rip a man to shreds leaving holes in the body? Kermit will be devasted," he said quietly, a single tear falling down his cheek. "They are demanding your presence, my friend," Master Po said, directing his statement to Caine. "They will continue to kill until you go to them."

"Father, you must not. They wish to kill you. You must escape. I will deal with them. It is my responsibility as a Guide. We take care of our own."

"No Kaz. You must go and save Thomas Carradine. I will deal with these marauders. Go with Master Po. He will lead you to a safe place where you can be able to accomplish your task. Hurry, time is running out for all of us."

"Come, young Caine. We must go now," Master Po said, gently tugging on the sleeve of Kaz's student gi. Reluctantly, Kaz followed Master Po.

Caine watched his son leave with Master Po through another passage. He walked over to his cousin's body and cupped his hand on his bare head. 'This is it, my cousin. We both knew this day would come. Somehow the Dark Warrior's forces have returned. The age of Range Guides and Shaolin will soon be at an end. Kaz, be careful, my son. Do what you must. May we meet again at the source of all things.'

*****

Master Po led Kaz down a series of corridors that he had only frequented when emergency required it. On silent feet they moved, to avoid detection.

"Wait," Kaz declared. "I must grab something from my quarters."

"There is no time, young Caine. I must get you to safety."

"We will make the time. I am a Guide and I will not leave without my sword."

Kaz took off in the opposite direction. He found the intersecting corridor leading to his quarters. He could still hear the angry voices demanding to see Caine.

"Where is he? If you do not produce him, I will kill every last one of you!"

"I am here."

As Kaz grabbed his sword and cloak, his father's voice cut through the fray. He stopped briefly, wondering what was going on. Kaz found himself being pulled in two directions as his desire as a Guide to stay and fight warred with his duty now as a priest. If only there was a way he could help. Perhaps if he was careful, he might be able to see whom it was that threatened Caine and the Shaolin. Kaz crept along the corridor until he came to a set of stairs leading to the upper level. He strapped his sword to his back so it would not move. He then crept along the floor until he could look over the railing to the Great hall below. What he saw caused the rage to rise within him.

The men that lined the hall looked similar to the Statemen from Helix, but they were dressed in clothng that he did not recognize and some carried weapons that were not familar to him. Could those had been the weapons that had killed Matthew? Kaz saw that his father now stood in the center of the great hall. The man that had demanded his father's presence stood before Caine.

"So, the rumors were true. My ancestor swore vengence on the lline of Caine and waited for a day when that vengence could be fulfilled. But the line of Caine disappered and so thought died out. Honor could not be satisfied, until it was rumored that somehow the line had survived after all. I learn the whereabouts of Caine but learned he had died and therefore cheated me of the chance to avenge the dishonor that had been done to my family 1000 years before. But when I heard that there was another Caine, I searched for many years to find where that Caine might be, and so, I have finally found you. You will pay for what was done."

Kaz listened to the one-sided conversation that was taking place. What was the man talking about?

"My father told me of the line of Bon Bon Hei and the Dark Warrior's forces. He warned me that you would return."

"Enough. Hold him."

Kaz watched as two men came forward to grasp Caine by the sleeves of his robe when he saw his father kick out. Kaz watched as his father fought every man who came forward to challenge him, but unfortunately, it was not enough. A swarm of men came forward and Caine was soon overpowered.

"Now, I can end your line and your family's interference forever."

"No! Father!" Kaz cried out, enraged.

As the man brought the sword down across the priest's neck, the sudden enraged scream caused him to flinch, and the cut he would have made did not go as deep. Still, it was enough to mortally, but not fatally, wound the priest. As Paul Thomas Caine fell to the floor, the man looked up in surprise. He then turned and gazed down at the bleeding priest.

"So, you have a son. He shall die as well." The unknown assailant signaled to his men and several raced to capture the young Range Guide.

As Kaz watched, all he saw was his father falling to the floor and blood beginning to pool around the stricken priest. He had not been aware of the kind of wound that his father had received. He also had not expected to react in the way that he did. He did not know Caine, and yet he had acted as if he had known and loved him all his life. Could he love a father who had not been a part of his life? It had not been his choice, someone else had made that decision. And now, he might not get that chance to know him. Kaz was about to leap within the sudden fray when he was pulled back by a strong arm that felt like iron. He spun around to face the Ancient.

"Why did you stop me? He has killed my father. A Range Guide takes care of their own."

"You should not have done that. Quickly, we must escape if we are to be of any help later."

Kaz followed the Ancient to the room of the cauldron. He could not help but notice that the usual heat that came from the urn was not present. He watched as the old priest raised the urn and moved it to another small pedistal. A door opened that he had not seen before and the Ancient motioned him forward. Both exited the room. Once outside, the Ancient pressed a small animal carving beside the door. The carving was part of an intricate design that concealed the door when it was closed.

"I do not understand. Why must I run?"

"Your father would want you to fulfill your destiny, young Caine. Do you have the sash?"

"How do you know about . . ."

"It does not matter how I know. Do you have it?"

Kaz pulled out the sash from his shirt and held it out to the Ancient.

"No, I must not touch it. Only you are allowed that. Come, there is another place where we can go to perform the rite. We must hurry. It will not be long before they will learn that you have escaped. They will search the nearby countryside and town."

Kaz watched Master Po pick up a leather pouch similar to his own. It was hidden underneath a small alcove beside the hidden door. Within an hour, they were making their way through the ruined streets of what was Braniff, California. A faded sign miraculously having survived the years of wind, rain, and sun declared its name. Silently the two figures made their way until they reached a house. Kaz was surprised to see the structure in such excellent condition compared to many of the other buildings in the town. Near the house were other structures. Kaz followed Master Po and they approached a smaller bulding not far from the house.

Seeing the unspoken question on the Range Guide's face, Master Po stated, "This is a shrine. It was built over 1000 years ago so others may come and leave offerings. Peter Caine insisted that it be maintained at all cost. We know nothing more other than that. Each year two monks are required to come here and act as caretakers. Come."

Both entered the shrine and Kaz was surprised to see candles that were lit. He watched as Master Po layed out a square piece of material and a large candle was placed at each corner.

"You must sit in the middle and focus your chi on the owner of the sash. It will take you to him." Master Po instructed.

Kaz looked at the ancient priest doubtfully, but he knew if he did not do this, his existance, the Range Guides, and the Shaolin would not continue. Kaz sat in the center; his legs crossed in the customary lotus position. He removed the sash from his shirt and draped it across his knees. Examining the cloth, he could clearly make out the stains that the old archivist had said should not have been there. Could this piece of silk really transport him back to another time? Focusing his chi, he knew there was only one way to find out.

Kaz felt himself being drawn through what felt like a vortex. The roar in his ears was deafening and when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in an alley and in the remains of what had once been a snow drift. Kaz moved out from the shadows and looked into the bustling street. So many people. He had not seen a city like this or the strange vehicles that carried them. Every now and then someone would pass by on what appeared to be a deathmachine, but it did not contain the blaster that had been mounted on the front. What amazed Kaz the most was that there were no Range Guides. Not a single horse could be seen among all those people.

Kaz realized there was one thing that he had not done. In the rush to return to the temple and to take him to safety, Kaz had not asked one of the most important questions that would have helped him in his task. He had forgotten to ask his great-grandfather where Thomas Carradine had lived. All he knew was that Thomas had been a student of Peter Caine's. Kaz looked down in his hands and saw he was still grasping the sash. When he looked down, it was clean and white as if it had just been made. He tied it around his waste so it would not get lost. This was his only link back to his time and his only link to Thomas Carradine. Perhaps the sash had led him to where he needed to be, but there were no clues that told him he was even in the right place.

Kaz was uncertain where to begin when he suddenly spied a familiar face. It was the man in the dark glasses. He was in one of the strange machines. Kaz barely had time to get out of the way as the machine pulled into the very alleyway that Kaz was standing in. Kaz watched the man as he drove up, leave the machine, and started climbing the metal stairs to the upper levels of a brown brick building. Then Kaz heard clearly the voice of his father coming down from above, and yet it wasn't. It had to be Peter Caine. But without being able to see the man, he could not be sure.

"Hey Kermit, what brings you here to this part of town?"

"It's police business. I said I'd deliver the news." Kermit's tone was serious.

"News? What news? Kermit, what's wrong?"

"Let's talk inside."

Kaz moved closer to hear but their voices had become muffled and were soon totally out of earshot as if they had entered into an enclosed space. Kaz reached out with his chi to see if he could pull the voices to him to know what it was they were talking about. It was an ability that his mother also had and now Kaz was trying to use.

***

Kermit started to continue the conversation when, "Hold it Kermit." Peter raised his hand, a look of puzzlement came to his face.

"What is it Peter?"

"I'm not sure. I thought I sensed something. A presence. It felt somehow familiar, but . . ."

***

Kaz became aware that Peter Caine had felt his presence. He clamped down on his chi. He could not let Peter Caine know that he was here. But he was very much in luck. His ancestor was in this city and not at the temple. 'I must have arrived before he left, but what about Thomas Carradine? I hope I have not arrived too late to stop his death.'

Just then, Kaz could hear the clatter of feet coming down the metal stairs. He quickly hid behind a large metal box he spotted, and watched to see a much younger version of his father coming down the stairs with the man called Kermit. Their faces were grim. Whatever the man had told his ancestor, it was not good. As they were about to enter Kermit's car, another figure came walking up the alley and into view. Kaz peeked out to see what might be himself years from now. He watched as Kwai Chang Caine approached the two men. Peter entered the embrace of the older man. Even from his hiding place Kaz could sense the younger man's pain. Was he too late after all?

Kaz watched as the three men left then proceeded to the metal stairs. Here was an opportunity that he could not pass up. Perhaps he might learn the whereabouts of Thomas Carradine if he were to investigate his ancestor's home while he was away. He remembered Matthew mentioning that the Shaolin had no need to lock their doors, if there had been any doors to lock.

Kaz climbed the stairs as quietly and as swiftly as he could. It would not do him any good if someone spotted him for an intruder. As his feet landed on the terrace, he became aware of the many varying lingering scents of plants, some of which had been placed outside to collect the sunlight, even though the day was quite cool. Kaz approached the double doors leading into his ancestor's home and was brought up short. He knew this kind of intrusion was not right, but he had to find answers. He would deal with the consequences later.

'I'll just make sure that I won't get caught,' he thought.

Kaz entered into the space and was amazed at how he could sense the presence of the others without those persons being in the space. It seemed to permeate the room. He could sense a peacefulness as well as the many times this space had been intruded upon. It was almost disconcerting to be aware of so much more than what his senses as Guide could tell him. Kaz took a few moments and explored each room, expanding his chi and sensing each space's uniqueness. Here was where Peter slept. Here in another was where Peter's father could be found mixing what remedies that were needed for the community. How he knew this. he did not know. He just knew it to be true. Then Kaz entered a large room with mats, weapons lining one wall, and an altar up against another. The altar was reminicent of the one back at the temple. Kaz, however, was not so much interested in what was in the room, but what the room had contained. He could sense the presence of chidren, one child specifically. In fact, the child had been here very recently, perhaps even yesterday, before Kaz had arrived. So, he had not been too late. There was still time. But where, in this strange city-state, was he going to find Thomas Carradine? As a Guide, it would be so easy to look through the eyes of another and know. But in this place, he did not know if it was possible. To do that, he would have to look in the eyes of Peter Caine, but Kaz did not know if he should reveal his presence here. It may cause repercussions in his own time.

Kaz looked around one more time and came across the computer. He had only seen a few of the machines in his lifetime, but they had been in the remains of old abandoned cities. He had not seen one that worked before. The colorful twisting images that were moving on the screen fascinated him. Then he spotted what looked like a small leather book. It reminded him of the book in the pouch that he carried. Unfortunately, he had left the pouch behind in his haste to get to safety. Kaz picked up the book and leafed through its pages and discovered hand written notes. The handwriting had some of the characteristics found in the journal. As Kaz flipped through the pages, one name caught his attention. Calista Carradine. He read the note beside the name. Tommy's mother. Could the note refer to Thomas Carradine? Below were some numbers and other words. Kaz could see that there were other names with similar entries. Could this be where Tommy was located? Kaz found what looked like a writing instument and a small sheet of paper and wrote down what was written in the book. 'Now all I have to do is search for this Orchid Street and hopefully I will be able to . . . '

"Hold it right there!"

"Don't shoot, Kermit!" Peter cried. He had insisted on returning to the apartment sensing that something was amiss. Now they knew.

Kaz looked up to see the man in the dark glasses pointing a weapon in his direction and Peter Caine standing behind him. A look of astonishment was on his face. Not wishing to get into any confrontation that might cause more problems, Kaz bolted through the terrace doors and bounded over the wall.

Kermit raced to the terrace and looked over the wall. He could not believe the man had actually jumped four stories to the alleyway below without breaking his neck. When he looked over the edge, the man was nowhere to be found.

"Did you get a good look at his face?" Peter said. It was a question more for confirmation to see if Kermit had seen the same thing.

"All I saw was a perp going through your things. Better check to see if anything's been stolen."

Peter walked over to the computer and found that his address book was open. What did the intruder want with his addresses? Nothing else had been disturbed.

"There doesn't seem to be anything missing," Peter said.

"Check the rest of the place. I thought I saw the guy was carrying something long on his back. I'll see if I can get an I.D. on this guy. You still have your police hookup don't you?"

"Yeah, you're the only one who knows the password besides me since you're the one who set it up." Peter called back as he went to check out the rest of the apartment

Kermit sat at Peter's computer and typed in the password. In truth, he had gotten a good look, but he could not believe what he had seen. The intruder looked like Caine, but much younger. His hair was brown and his face was thinner than Caine's. There was also something different about the man. It wasn't so much in his appearance as a feeling. Then Kermit's mercenary instincts finally kicked in as he realized what that something was. He realized that the man had killed, not once, but several times, without remorse. There was an attitude about the man that said mercenary and yet, something more. A hunter, someone who would stalk their prey and dispatch it quickly. Yet, he also got the impression that he would protect anyone with his life, if necessary.

Kermit logged onto the software for creating composite images of people to identify. He had saved the file of Kwai Chang Caine when Skalany's child psychic friend Lori had come to the precinct. He pulled the image up and began manipulating parts of it to bring the person's face into view. He watched as the slight differences were changed. He eliminated the name in the file and sent the image out across cyberspace, hoping to find any details at all.

It wasn't long before a match had been found, sort of. When Kermit pulled up two files, one report was the one filed in Moab, Utah while the other was about four year ago when Caine was a suspect in a murder case that happened at his old kwoon, the place that once used to be the meat market that Tan's men had destroyed. The image on the police records, however, did not match with the current image that Kermit had drawn. As far as the computer was concerned, this man that stared back at him from the computer screen was Kwai Chang Caine, just a much younger version. But that was impossible. The man existed and he obviously was not the Shaolin. Caine had decided to walk after they had left the scene. Peter had rode back with him, trying to make some sense of why Kelly Blaisedell's fiance would commit suicide. It didn't make any sense. There had been a note, but Peter had been convinced that he had been murdered and he would not explain how he knew. Now the discovery of this new person sent off alarm bells in Kermit's mind. One question that came to him, was what was the man carrying on his back?

As Peter came back from checking the other rooms for anything that might have been stolen, Kermit quickly shut down the program that he was running. No use keeping it up if there wasn't anything substantial.

"Did you find anything?" Peter asked curiosly.

"Nope. Not a trace. Either the man doesn't exist or he's just not committed a crime in his life." Kermit decided it wasn't worth mentioning about Caine's previous police record. Peter knew about it anyway. "Are you sure you saw his face?"

"Now how could I forget the face of my own father."

"Maybe he was another relative," Kermit suggested.

"My father would have told me if there were more relatives than just Damon, Martin, and my grandfather. Besides, if he was, why did he run?"

"Good question." Kermit stated. 'I'm sure as hell going to find out,' he thought. Then Kermit put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Come on, your father's waiting in the car. We've got to get to the crime scene. Then we better go tell your sister what's happened."

"Yeah, you're right. This can wait." Still, Peter could not help asking himself, who was the man with his father's face?

*****

Kaz leaped from the terrace and landed squarely on his feet. Rather than run up the alley and risk being seen, he quickly went back to his previous hiding place. He peeked out to see that the man in the dark glasses was leaning over the terrace wall. Kaz could see him shake his head then go back inside. It was the break that he was waiting for. Kaz left his hiding place and headed up the alleyway toward the street. He pulled his cloak around himself and pulled up the hood to hide his face. Now for his next purpose. To try and find Orchid Street and Thomas Carradine. Kaz, however, had not been aware that he had been observed and that person also wondered who he was.

Kaz Oshay Caine walked the streets of the city. He was aware that some of the people looked at him rather oddly. He tried his best to ignore them focusing only on his goal. He had no use for Statemen, strange ones or not, when they did not involve a Guide's purpose. As he passed by one group of people, he could not help but hear them whispering.

"It's him. His hair looks different though."

"Why is he wearing those strange clothes?"

"What is he carrying on his back? It looks like a sword."

"Did you hear about the old lady last week? Sandra Mason said that her head had been nearly cut off, that it might have been done by a sword."

"I can't believe that. Sandra Mason has a tendency to blow things out of proportion. And I don't believe that's Caine. Hey, maybe he's that actor, David Carradine? Maybe they're doing a movie near here. Nah."

Kaz was uncomfortable from the scrutiny he was receiving. It was becoming more obvious that he was in a totally different time and place. He took out the note and began looking around for any clue to what Orchid Street was or where it might be when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me."

Kaz turned toward the voice to face, "Master Po?" How could the old priest be here?

The old man smiled at him. "I am not who you think I am, but I know you have come a long ways. Please come with me."

Kaz followed the old man until they reached a garden gate. They stepped inside to a tranquil filled place. Though some of the plants were still in their winter sleep, others had been brought out to soak up what sunlight they could. It was a stark contrast to the concrete and steel that was beyond the walls of the garden. A young woman was tending the garden as they walked by. She gave Kaz a curious look, then shook her head. Kaz followed the old man through the garden and into the house.

"It is best that you remain here. It is not yet time."

Kaz looked at the man with astonishment. How did he know that he was here to save the boy?

"This has happened before, but under other circumstances. I am pleased to learn that Peter will not remain the last."

Kaz still had not spoken a word, and yet the old man seemed to read him like a book. Finally, Kaz spoke up.

"How can you know these things?"

The old man grabbed Kaz's left arm and pulled up the sleeve of his gray shirt, then pulled back on his own sleeve. Kaz stared down at both brands. The old man was Shaolin. He should have realized. Perhaps the old man was Master Po's ancestor, but that would not explain how he knew the things he did.

"It does not matter how I know, only that I do. Besides, you have a most familiar face," the old one stated with a smile. "You need a change of clothes. What you are wearing will only cause questions."

'That was a poinless statment,' Kaz thought after thinking about the group of people he had passed on the street. Instead he queried, "Who are you?"

"I am called the Ancient, since I am so old. I am the voice of reason for the community. Though you look like someone I know, you are much younger than him. Who are you?" the Ancient queried.

"I am Kaz Oshay."

"No other name?" the Ancient coaxed.

Kaz did not answer at first. He was not used to referring to himself by the other name, but this Ancient seemed to require that he include it. "Caine, Kaz Oshay Caine."

"I thought as much. Come I will show you where you may sleep."

"I am looking for . . . Orchid Street?"

"What number do you seek?" the Ancient asked.

Kaz pulled out the slip of paper from inside his shirt. "7648? I do not understand what it means."

"You are searching for someone's residence. I will take you there later. Your journey here must have exhausted you."

The old priest placed his hands along Kaz's face and stroked the temple. Kaz began to yawn and a weariness came over him. 'I do feel rather tired,' he thought. 'Maybe some sleep would not hurt after all.'

The old man led Kaz to a couch and he was soon sound asleep. The one thing he missed was the sound from his father's flute.

Kaz woke the next day to some tantilizing smells. He watched as the Ancient came in carrying a tray with the familiar scent of tea as well as other scents that were unfamiliar to him.

"I have brought you breakfast," the Ancient said. "After you have eaten, I will take you to meet your ancestors."

"No. I cannot do that. I must not be seen by them," Kaz interjected.

"Why not?" asked the Ancient.

"It may compromise my purpose here."

"They may discover you are here anyway. Is it not best to let them know that you exist?" the Ancient argued

Kaz was considering the Ancient's words when his stomach announced his hunger. For now, all he was interested in was eating the breakfast that the Ancient had provided. Suddenly, both Kaz and the Ancient looked toward the door as they heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. The door opend and Kaz was looking into the frantic face of Peter Caine.

Kaz looked up into the face of Peter Caine, surprise registered on both their faces. 'I should not be here,' Kaz thought, and turned a glaring eye on the old priest, feeling a little betrayed. 'The Ancient promised he would take me to Thomas Carradine. Did he arrange this?'

At first, Kaz would not look in Peter Caine's direction, but the tension in the room was rising and he could sense that part of it came from his ancestor. Kaz could not help but be drawn toward Peter. Then hazel eyes met hazel eyes and they were locked in the spell of knowing. Just as it was with Denere when they had been imprisoned, Kaz was drawn deep into Peter Caine's eyes and into what the young man saw and felt at that very moment. He could not have stopped it if he had tried. It was part of the Range Guide's way, to know another's pain through the windows of the soul and to know their need for help.

Kaz saw himself, standing by the young man's computer, hearing his companion shout "Freeze!", sensing the astonishment that the young man felt at seeing his face, and suddenly seeing himself racing toward the double doors leading toward the terrace and leaping over the wall to disappear. It all flashed by in an instant along with many questions. Who was he? Why did he look like my father? Why didn't my father tell me I might have had a brother? Is this one more secret that he kept from me because he didn't want to hurt me?

"I am not who you think I am." Kaz said, breaking the eye contact and the spell.

For a moment, Peter appeared shaken. "Then who are you?" he finally demanded.

"I am the Last." Kaz said.

Peter stared and blinked. "The Last? That's impossible. I am the last."

"That statement is purely ridiculous since I am obviously here." Kaz said calmly.

'I still don't understand. Who are you? What are you doing here? Where did you come from?"

Kaz was amused at Peter's constant questioning. It reminded him of some of the Statemen he would sometimes meet in his travels and of himself when he began his training, both as a Guide and Shaolin. Had he really acted that way?

"There is no time for this. I need to find Thomas Carradine." Kaz stated, turning back to the Ancient.

"Why?" Peter's eyes narrowed.

"I cannot say."

"Or will not," Peter surmised. "You tell me why you need to find my student. You're not going anywhere until I get a straight answer from you."

Kaz should have realized his mistake. It was as if he had kicked this man in the head and was expecting him to simply let him pass. He remembered what his mother had said when Kaz had been exceedingly difficult and wanted to use force when there was no need.

"One must learn to bind an elephant with the web of a spider, not stun him with a kick," Oshay had once said.

He would have to try another approach if he was going to help Thomas Carradine. It would seem that he had no choice but to reveal just who he was.

"I do not wish him harm if that is what you are thinking. I could never harm him any more than I could harm you," Kaz said quietly bowing his head in respect. "But I will, if I have to." Kaz drew his sword from its scabbard. The sound that eminated from it was like a whisper on the wind.

"Do not do this Kaz Oshay Caine. You would be harming your ancestor." The Ancient declared, moving between the two men. "And you know it is not the Shaolin way."

"Caine? Ancestor?" Peter questioned, a puzzled expression on his features.

Kaz also was surprised. How did this Ancient know that Peter was his ancestor?

"Yes, Peter, he is one of your descendants," the Ancient stated. "Are you so blind with rage that you do not see the resemblance? Have you also not noticed the brands?" The Ancient pointed to Kaz's forearms that had been exposed when he raised his sword and the sleeves of his shirt had dropped down.

"Shaolin never use a weapon unless it is for defence or for ritual challenge," Peter stated.

"I am not Shaolin," Kaz replied.

"And I am sure you just took those brands on a dare. Give me a break. Only a Shaolin wears those brands, and one whose been trained. If you're not Shaolin, than what are you? You certainly aren't Singh Wah. You wouldn't be here enjoying a cup of tea with Lo Si."

Kaz felt as if he was caught between a rock and a hard place. 'Why didn't I admit to being Shaolin?' He still did not fully understand why he had been required to go through the training, even though his great-grandfather had explained it to him. He still did not feel any affinity toward the Shaolin or even toward the Caine line. Though he had forgiven his father for the hurt that he had assumed had been done to Oshay, he did not know him, and Peter Caine, he knew even less. As far as he was concerned, this was still only a purpose to him that needed fufilling.

"I am a Guide," Kaz stated, his sword still poised in front of him as if he was preparing to fight a duel.

"And you are Shaolin," the Ancient came up to him and placed his hand gently on Kaz's arms, lowering his sword. "I can sense that you are a Guide first and foremost. But how else can you explain receiving the brands, Kaz Oshay Caine?"

Kaz let loose a deep breath that he had been holding, still struggling with what he was and what he was becoming.

"To be a Guide and to be Shaolin does not deny one or the other," Lo Si stated. "You are unique for you are both. Yet, you remain true to yourself."

"Your words are strange, yet you use my own words as if you know what a Guide is." Kaz stated with wonderment.

"I do not know what a Guide is, but truly it cannot be someone who does not believe in helping others since you are here," the Ancient continued.

"Why are you here?" Peter Caine interjected.

"To prevent a life from ending far too soon."

Bon Bon Hei glared as he listened to one of his most trusted men. As soon as the man was finished, he asked, "Who is he?"

"No one knows and no one is saying."

"How long has he been in Chinatown?" Bon Bon Hei questioned, his anger growing with every answer.

"Three days."

"And you did not bother to tell me of his arrival?" Bon Bon Hei nearly shouted.

"They were just rumors then. I thought you would want proof that he existed so I had Chen watching the Ancient's and Caine's places of residence and took pictures to bring you." The man placed the large manila envelope onto Bon Bon Hei's desk.

"Good answer. I will let you live, this time."

Bon Bon Hei opened the envelope and his expression became hard as he viewed the first photo.

"What is this? Do you think I am blind?"

"I don't know what you mean, Master. Those are the photos that Chen took, I swear."

"This man that you have taken photos of looks exactly like Caine did over 30 years ago. This could have been taken during that time."

"That would be impossible," said Bon Bon Hei's second in command.

"And why is that?" said Bon Bon Hei menacingly.

"Take a look at the next three and you will see."

Bon Bon Hei did not like his subordinates speaking to him in the manner of an equal. That kind of talk brought on a high percentage of deaths, though he overlooked it just this once. He flipped through the photographs and realized he may have been hasty in his conclusions.

"See, Peter Caine is with the stranger here, and Caine is with him here. Now here's all three. Whoever that stranger is, he may look like Caine, but it certainly isn't him."

"I concede your point. Very good. Find out as much as you can about the young man and why he is here. It is obvious that he is a relative. Perhaps even another son that the Shaolin had hidden from me. He also cannot allowed to live. He would become a threat to my plans. As for Peter Caine, perhaps I have been too lenient. Take the boy tonight. They will not begin a search for at least 48 hours for a missing child. We will hold him for at least that amount of time. Then you may kill him and leave the body where Caine is sure to find him. By then, it will be too late. It's again time to show the new priest that I am not bluffing.

****

"Tommy, it's time to come inside. Tommy? Tommy!"

The bicycle was lying on the ground carelessly near the street. That was not unusual for some except, Tommy was very careful about not leaving his bike where it may get stolen or ran over by oncoming traffic since receiving it for his 8th birthday several weeks ago. This time the bike was lying where someone could get hurt. And there was no sign of the rider.

****

"Let me go!" Tommy screamed.

"Shut up kid. You'll be returned soon enough."

"I want my mother!"

"I said shut up!"

Tommy began to sob. He was frightened. He didn't know where he was or who these people were. Then he remembered a lesson that Master Peter had been trying to teach them this past week. It had to do with fighting off an attacker much larger than themselves. Master Peter had said it had involved certain points on the body being weaker than others. Tommy kicked at the one of the kidnapper's knees and got instant results.

"AAUUGH!!" The man grabbed his right knee, letting Tommy go in the process, and the boy raced back down the hall. "Grab that kid!"

The other man ran after Tommy and was lifting him up by the collar of his shirt and grabbing him around his waist.

"Let me go!" Tommy's arms and legs flailed about but he wasn't able to succeed in getting the other man to let go. The next thing he knew, he was being thrown into a room with only a cot for a bed, the only light coming from a small window too high up for Tommy to reach. Tommy rushed to the door and grabbed the handle, but found the door had been locked from the outside. He was trapped. He leaned against the door, slid down its length, and with his knees bent to his chest, cried out his anger and fear to no one.

****

Over the past three days, Kaz had spent a great deal of time with Peter Caine and his father. It was not customary for a Range Guide to be with family after they had departed when each came of age. Knowing that family existed sometimes made the long days and weeks of traveling alone more bearable. Though Kaz had no children of his own that he was aware of, he was reminded how much he loved and missed his mother greatly. Her death had been a terrible blow, both for him and the Range Guides. She had sheltered him from harm and helped to train him until he reached his 16th summer. He saw her less frequently after he had been fostered to an older male guide to receive the rest of his training in using a sword until it came time for him to go through his trial of maturity. Though his mother had been the most powerful of the Guide's, she understood the need that a male child needed to have the companionship of another male. Kaz realized that that foster Guide had been like a father to him, and for the first time, he realized he missed his own father and wanted desperately to get to know him.

As Kaz watched the interaction between Peter and Kwai Chang Caine, he was beginning to see just what a father and son relationship could be. 'Perhaps my father and I could develop such a union some day,' he thought. But then he remembered what he had witnessed before he had journeyed to this time and a deep wrenching sadness threatened to overwhelm his reason. 'No, it is too late for us. But perhaps it is not too late for me to help raise my son some day, if I have a child.' His thoughts were interrupted when Peter mentioned a word that he had never heard before except very recently and in regards to his own father, Paul Thomas Caine. Grandfather? He was even more surprised to learn that Matthew Caine whose journal he carried in his pouch was Kwai Chang Caine's father and that he still lived in a far off place called St. Adele. As Kaz tried to listen more closely, his eyes became unfocused and the image of a very frightened boy came to him.

'Thomas!' Kaz realized immediately that the image he received was from the boy that he had been sent to save.

At that moment, a woman came bursting into the Caine apartment.

"My son!" she cried, barely catching her breath, she collapsed to her knees sobbing uncontrollably.

"Calista? What is it?" Peter rose to meet her.

Both Caine and Peter were too focused on helping Calista Carradine to notice that a certain Shaolin Range Guide was no longer in the room. His sword, which had been resting, on the workbench was also gone.

Kaz raced through the streets of Chinatown, desperately trying to find the place that the vision had shown him. He had to find Thomas Carradine before he died. He did not know how long he had. Astonished eyes turned in his direction but Kaz was too focused to pay them any heed. Ask Kaz turned the corner, he came up short. 'This had to be the place,' he thought. His sense of Thomas grew stronger. The house was small and a blue bicycle was leaning up aganst the white picket fence. As Kaz approached, turned and took on a far away look, flashes of what happened came to him and he tried to focus in on who had taken the boy. The first images that Kaz saw were of Tommy riding his bicycle along the sidewalk. Then a large dark strange machine of this time came into view. The machine stopped in front of Tommy and a large man jumped out and grabbed the boy. At the same time he covered the boy's mouth with some kind of cloth to keep him from crying out. The images came thick and fast. Still within all the confusion, Kaz was able to spot a very important clue. There was a metal place with letters attached to the back of the strange vehicle. They spelled out a word that he knew better than his own name, Rangers. But that would not be enough. He needed to know the direction the vehicle had taken and try to envision its path. He found it ironic that even though he had been trained as a Shaolin, his skills as a Range Guide had served him more than expected. As soon as he got a sense as to which direction the van had gone, Kaz was on the move again.

Kaz briefly stopped and again focused. Visions of the vehicle again came to him and he saw it turning down another path. He went swiftly to that street and his vision again showed the vehicle, this time traveling in a straight line for a greater distance. 'If only I had a horse,' he thought. 'I could follow the strange machine more easily.' He thought about taking one of the death machines of this time, but dismissed it. They may have been easy to learn how to ride, but they had none of the instinct that a horse would have, so he continued on the path on foot as quickly as he could. When he finally reached the point where the vehicle had turned again, he saw that it had only gone a short distance and had entered the building not far in front of him.

Kaz approached the building wiith great caution, drawing his sword. Though he knew there would be no mutants during this time, there still could be unknown dangers. Kaz entered through the opening that the vehicle had entered earlier and spotted the strange machine with the word Rangers on it. A rage rose in him that someone would use that name to harm a child. He moved closer to see where that child had been taken next. He searched around but found only one entrance. There had to be another way in. If he were to enter that way, they would detect his presence. 'If only I had a blaster I could make my own entrance,' he thought.

Just as Kaz was about to find another way in, he was too late in recognizing the danger too focused on his task. He blacked out from the hard blow that someone gave him to the back of his head.

*****

"Where is he?" Peter demanded.

"Peter, you will not find him by getting yourself enraged," Caine replied. "You must focus your thoughts."

"Pop, he may be here to harm Tommy. He told me he was seeking out one of my students, but he didn't tell me why. I don't trust him."

"You know that is not the truth, my son. He was here when Calista Carradine came in. Perhaps he is here for another reason."

Peter thought for another moment at what Kaz had said to him, that he was here to prevent a life from dying far too soon. He just could not by that line, nor the one that Ping Hai had told him.

"Pop, did you really believe what Ping Hai said?"

"I do not know what you mean, my son."

"That he's one of my descendants."

"Who else could he be, Peter? Do you not remember when we were required to save Kwai Chang, our ancestor?"

"Sure, Pop, but sometimes that feels like it was all just a dream," Peter replied

"Could not Kaz Oshay Caine have come for a similar reason?"

"But if he came to save one of us, which one?" Peter asked, puzzled.

"I do not think he is here to save one of us," Caine speculated.

"Tommy?"

Kwai Chang Caine gave his son his customary shrug as if to say, perhaps.

"But who would want to kill him and . . ." Suddenly Peter's face paled. It made perfect sense. He should have realized what was happening. Now he would have no choice but to reveal what he knew. "Pop, I have something to tell you. Please, don't be mad. It was necessary, but I just didn't think he'd really carry out his threats to this extreme. I should have come to you sooner. I should have told you right after we found Kermit and you had gone for help."

"What is it, my son?"

"I know whose behind the killings in the past two weeks. It has to be him."

Peter launched into what had happened when Caine had left to get help for Kermit. He told how Bon Bon Hei appeared to him and tried to kill him. Then he told of the threats that he made against his famly and friends if Peter did not cooperate. "I didn't believe him at the time, but each death that's happened so far has gotten closer to me. He told me if I told you, you would be the first to die. Dammit, I felt helpless, Pop. There was nothing i could do to stop him or even prove that he was involved. Every time I would mention it, everyone would say there was no evidence, but Pop, I know Bon Bon Hei was behind those deaths." Peter hung his head in shame, tears stinging his eyes. "I mean, even you told me . . . "

Caine's own guit rose as he realized what his son was saying. "Oh, Peter I am sorry. I should have listened. Even I assumed that the deaths were not related. Do not be ashamed, Peter. Bon Bon Hei tried to take advantage of you and your duty as a priest. I, too, was blind to that fact. What is it that you must do now?"

A smile appeared on the young Shaolin's face. "Kick some Tong's butt. Come on, Pop. Kaz doesn't know what he's getting himself into. He may be in over his head."

Father and son both grabbed their leather pouches and left the apartment to seek out Kaz Oshay Caine and Bon Bon Hei.

Kaz groaned and turned over on his back.

"Hey Mister, you awake?"

Suddenly, Kaz was on his feet and the child that was near him scrambled out of his way. Kaz growled out his rage and rushed at the only door that was his way out, but he was knocked back from the force of his own body hitting it. The door proved to be tougher than it looked. It reveberated with sound confirming its metal property.

Kaz tried again, this time launching both feet at the door but to no avail and landed on his backside. He sat there for a moment, glaring . Then he rose to his feet screaming at the top of his lungs, "AAAUUUUURRR!!!! I AM A GUIDE!! WHO PUT ME IN HERE?"

Kaz did not want to admit to himself of his own stupidity of not keeping his senses open to danger. Now he was trapped, just as he had been trapped by the Statemen of Helix. A soft sob caught Kaz's attention and he turned toward the sound to see a small boy curled up in a corner of the room. Forgetting his own rage for the moment, Kaz approached the frightened child.

"Are you Thomas Carradine?" Kaz asked gently, even though this child looked like the boy in his vision, he had to be sure.

The boy nodded through broken sobs.

"I am sorry if I frightened you. I do not like being caged."

"They moved me in here when I tried to escape earlier. Then they carried you in and dropped you on the floor. You look like Master Peter's father," the boy said wide eyed. "Are you another son of his?"

"No, though I am related, you might say. We must find a way out of here. If only I had my sword and a good blaster."

The boy stared back in confusion.

Kaz was drawn to the sound of the door being opened from the outside. Two men could be seen in the doorway, the one in front was holding an unfamiliar weapon. Kaz was about to rush forward to attack the men when the one with the weapon open fired at Kaz's feet, bringing him to a halt.

"Now you be quiet in here or I'll shut you both up permenantly, even though that's going to happen anyway. The master wishes to take care of both of you personally."

The man backed out of the room and Kaz watched helplessly as they relocked the door.

****

'Who is this man?' thought Bon Bon Hei 'Such an elequent weapon. Surely it could not have come from some earthly plane of existance.'

Bon Bon Hei pulled Kaz's sword from its scabbard and listened to the musical whistle-like sound. The blade was deceptively sharp, its crystaline structure giving it the appearance of fragile glass.

"We still have not been able to find out anything about this Shaolin, Master. It is as if he never existed," one of Bon Bon Hei's men said.

"Perhaps he does not exist, at least in this plane," Bon Bon Hei suggested. "No Shaolin would carry a weapon such as this. He is something much more than that."

"I don't understand."

"Prepare the room and bring the boy and the Shaolin to me. Be sure he is well bounded. I do not want him escaping."

This time three men came through the door that was Thomas Carradine's and Kaz's prison room. Two of them held weapons. One pointed at Kaz, the other pointed at the boy. Kaz was not stupid enough to attack. He was unsure of the Kung Fu skills that he learned. Even if he did try to fight his way through, there was the boy to consider. They could kill him and thatwould defeat the purpose of him being there, so Kaz let them bind his arms.

"Let me go. Why don't you do something?" Tommy cried.

"It will be all right. There will be another time to act."

As Kaz was held between two men and Tommy was carried by another, two silent figures watched from the shadows.

Peter Caine started to move forward when his father placed his hand on his son's arm. He signaled him for silence and they followed the men to where they were taking Kaz and the young boy. It was time for the Crane to meet the Tiger in its layer.

Kaz's eyes narrowed as he and Tommy were brought to a room that looked like a room at the Shaolin temple where Kaz had been trained. Two large statues could be seen at one end with an altar between them. Heavy black velvet curtains hung on the walls. Stands containing at least 100 candles burned everywhere. They provided the only light in the room. Despite the heat coming from so many candles, Kaz shivered in anticipation of what was to come. Tommy's protesting had ceased, replaced with wimpers of sobs that the was trying his best to conceal.

Kaz's eyes were drawn to the altar and he knew immediately what that altar was for. Dark stains that looked like rust marred the pristine surface of the marble. He had seen 'such tables' in the caves of the mutants during his trial of maturity. Their tables were used to carve humans as one would carve a turkey. Humans were the mutant's main source of food. Kaz swallowed the rising bile that came to his throat. To think that he had come to this time to end up as dinner for a man that was obviously not a mutant did not set well with him. Perhaps he was wrong about mutants not existing in this timeline. As Kaz gazed on what may very well be his last day on Earth, he spotted something else that gave him hope. His whistler sword was resting against one of the statues. If he could get to it, he might be able to stop whomever was planning this.

"I would not think about if I were you," a man said as he entered. He wore dark robes and a helmet covered his face. He carried in his arms a long curved sword.

"Who are you?" Kaz demanded.

"I am the Emisary of the Dark Warrior," he said.

"No one may hold a Guide! Release me!"

"You are in no position to make demands. Bring the boy."

"No!" Tommy cried out his fear as he was brought to the altar. He was bound hand and foot so he would not move.

Kaz raged at himself for not acting sooner and he struggled to free himself, but two men held him tightly, preventing him from moving forward. He should have trusted his instincts, but the Kung Fu skills that he had been taught he did not feel comfortable using. He did not know how effective they would be against these people.

Then two other men flew into view of Kaz's vision. They crumpled to the floor without a sound. Standing in the doorway were two figures that Kaz did not expected to see.

"Enough!" Kwai Chang Caine cried out. "Let them go."

Bon Bon Hei glared at the priests, especially the younger of the two.

"I warned you not to interfere."

"Since when have I ever listened to scum like you," Peter said.

"Kill them both, now!" Bon Bon Hei pointed toward Caine and Peter.

One of the men holding Kaz rushed forward, believing his companion could handle the bound Guide. For just a moment, Kaz watched the two Shaolin fight. Seeing that the man that held him was distracted, Kaz kicked out and took the man down. So, he could use these skills after all.

At the same time Bon Bon Hei moved closer to the altar, determined to finish the work he started.

"Nooo! Help me!" Thomas screamed in fear.

"Thomas!" Kaz rushed toward the altar even though his hands were still bound. Rwo more men tried to grab at Kaz but they were quickly dispatched by the Guide with kicks to the solar plexus and groin. Kaz rushed forward and put himself between Thomas' assailant. As the man brought down the curved sword, he took the blade in his own shoulder and with his own body, shoved the Emisary aside. As Bon Bon Hei fell back, his helmet became dislodged and Kaz stared into the face of the very man who had cut down his father. How it was possible his father's murderer could be here for the moment was beyond Kaz's comprehension. He would have attacked and killed the man then and there except for the ropes that still bound his hands behind him.

Ignoring the injury as best he could, Kaz tried to break free of the ropes that bound him. So wrapped up in getting free, Kaz was not aware that someone was bearing down on him to stab him from behind. Just then Peter was there, helping to defend Kaz's back, trying to also protect Thomas Carradine, and pulling at the ropes that bound Kaz's hands.

"How did you find me?" Kaz asked.

"That doesn't matter. Blood is Blood. We protect our own. Quickly, get Tommy out of here."

For a brief instant, Kaz stared awed at the young man that looked so much like his father.

"What about you?" Kaz asked, concern growing for his ancestors more than he had ever realized.

"We'll be all right. We'll handle Bon Bon Hei. Go!"

Kaz grabbed his sword and picked up Tommy in his arms and headed out the door. He had not gone far when two more men rushed at him in the hall and tried to block their path of escape. Kaz set Tommy down and pulled out his whistler sword from its scabbard despite the injury to his own shoulder. In that instance, Kaz struck with lightning speed and both men went down, blood pouring from wounds that only a Range Guide would make. But in that instance, when Kaz made the cuts, he had pulled back. Something in this fight had been different. He had killed before, but this time, he did not. After making sure the men weren't dead, merely wounded and imobilized, Kaz picked Tommy up again and headed toward the door. Once outside, he slumped against the wall. The injury done to his shoulder was taking its toll, but he took the time to untie the ropes that bound Tommy.

"Thomas, stay close. We must get to Kwai Chang Caine's home. Do you know where we are?" Kaz's breath was becoming ragged as he tried to struggle to concentrate.

Tommy looked around and he soon saw a landmark that was familiar to him.

"Yes, we have to go this way."

"Please, you must help me."

Tommy tried to support his savior as best he could. Kaz did his best not to put all his weight on Tommy's small shoulders, but he was quickly losing blood and his vision was becoming blurred. He knew there was a growing possibility that he would not make it to their destination.

"Thomas, go to Caine's place. Do not stop. Leave me. I can go no further."

"No. I won't leave you."

Kaz could not argue the point. Instead, he slipped to the ground and blacked out. His last thoughts being that he had saved Thomas Carradine from dying. His future would be secure. He only hoped that Peter and his father had succeeded in defeating the Emisary of the Dark Warrior.

Kaz woke up to the smell of freshly brewed tea and something else, the sound of his father's flute. But how was that possible?

"Father?"

The flute ceased and Kaz felt a pang of regret and sadness enter his soul. He tried to turn on his side and a pain shot through him reminding him of the injury he had received. Tears stung his eyes as he tried to bite down on the pain.

"Here, drink this. It will strengthen your chi and ease the pain."

Kaz stared into the eyes of Peter Caine as he handed Kaz a small cup. He was so much like his father, except for the difference in their ages.

"I thought I heard my father's flute." Kaz said.

"Naw, that's my Pop. He's out in the terrace garden."

"Your father plays the flute, too?" Kaz asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah, whose your father?" Peter asked.

Kaz swallowed the lump in his throat. "It does not matter. He's dead. I saw him killed before I came here."

"I'm sorry," Peter said softly.

"Where is Thomas?" Kaz asked, concern growing.

"He is with his mother," Caine spoke as he entered through the french doors, his flute still in his hands.

"And the Emisary?"

"He escaped. Do not be concerned. Our paths will cross again," Caine stated.

"I should return to my time," Kaz declared.

"You are not healed yet." Caine came closer and placed his hand on Kaz's face.

"It does not matter. I must return. Maurauders were attacking the temple. The Shaolin will perish if I do not return."

"The temple?" Peter asked, a puzzled look appeared on his face.

"I must go." Kaz tried to rise again but was pushed back by Caine's strong hands.

"You still have a fever. You cannot leave until you are well."

Peter looked at his father with a questioning gaze. * What temple? What's Kaz talking about?*

*We will talk later, my son.* Caine stressed. He did not want to discuss the implication of what Kaz has said at that moment. "You must rest Kaz. You are still weak."

Caine brushed his fingers along the young man's forehead and Kaz found he could not resist Caine's touch. He found himself falling asleep. Caine recovered Kaz with a blanket and repositioned pillow under his head. He waved to Peter and they both exited the room and headed to another part of the apartment.

"Pop, what was Kaz talking about?"

"I do not know," Caine replied. "But I am please to know that the Shaolin have continued to exist. He is right. He must return. If the Shaolin are threatened, then only he can help them."

"But how will he return home?"

"Perhaps the same way he arrived?" Caine answered with a shrug.

****

After several more hours, Kaz rose to find that the fever was gone and his wound did not ache so readily. He would have to find another Range Guide to help him heal further. Though he could believe that his ancestors might have the power to heal themselves, especially the elder Caine, he was unsure whether they could transfer that power and heal someone else. Kaz walked around the apartment, but found only the Ancient sitting in the room with the small altar.

"Where are Peter and his father?" Kaz asked.

"They have gone to attend to some matters that only concern them. It is time for you to leave."

Kaz blinked at the old man. He still marveled at how this particular ancient priest reminded him of his Master Po. The only physical differences between the two seemed to be that this Ancient had hair, a beard, and he wore glasses that were similar to what Kermit had worn, but they were not dark and were made of metal.

"You must change back into your clothes," the Ancient said, handing Kaz a bundle. "The white sash that you are wearing I assume is the very item that brought you here?"

"Yes," Kaz said as he took the bundle from Ping Hai.

"Go and change. I will set up the space."

Kaz did as he was instructed, and when he returned, he was wearing his cloak and his sword was strapped to his back. The sash was grasped in his hands. He noticed that the Ancient had placed a square rug in the center of the room and there was a tall candle placed at each corner. It looked like what had been set up in the shrine.

"Sit in the center and grasp the sash," the Ancient instructed.

Kaz did as he was told.

"Now, concentrate. Concentrate on the sash of Thomas Carradine."

Distracted for a moment, Kaz asked himself, 'How did he know the sash had belonged to Thomas?' Bannishng that thought, Kaz refocused and the next thing he was aware of was the flash of light surounding him and he was once again pulled through the tunnel of time. When he opened his eyes, he found himself back at the temple, this time in the room that held the cauldron. How he got here he did not know, all he knew was that he was back and in the background he could hear the sounds of shouting and fighting. Kaz withdrew his whistler sword and headed for the main hall.

"WHERE IS HE?" the man demanded. "Find him!"

Shaolin and marauders fought with intensity. Some Shaolin winning, some marauder's cutting down Shaolin with impunity.

"Enough!"

The leader of the marauders turned at the voice. "You! You are the one who stopped me."

The young Guide stared at the man who stood before him. "When my ancestor said you had escaped, I did not think it would be to this time. I had little hope that our paths would cross again, Bon Bon Hei. You lied. How is it that you are here?"

"You have discovered the truth. You underestimated me, Shaolin. The powers granted to me by my Master enabled me to stay alive in the Dark Warrior's relm and to seek out the one who prevented me from bringing back my master and to destroy the line of Caine forever."

"I think you missed one," Kaz said, taunting the evil in front of him. "Fight me. I call the code. You must fight me, alone, no one else must interfere."

Kaz handed his sword to a nearby Shaolin monk.

"You must not do this," the monk pleaded. "There is always another way."

"But it is not my way," Kaz said.

After removing his shirt, he took back his sword and held it out in front of him standing still, waiting for his opponent.

Bon Bon Hei eyed the Shaolin, still puzzled after all these hundreds of years why a Shaolin would use a sword. "Tell me first, why would a Shaolin use such a weapon?"

"I may have the brands of a Shaolin, but I am first and foremost a Range Guide and now, I am also a Caine," Kaz answered proudly. "Enough said. We begin our dual."

Marauders and Shaolin alike lined the walls as the two adversaries circled each other, none giving any quarter. Bon Bon Hei was the first to strike out. Sword clashing against sword as Kaz countered. The parry, thrusts, strikes, and counter strikes went on for more than ten minutes. Kaz continued to keep a steady eye on his opponent. Bon Bon Hei also tried to keep pace with the younger man, but was growing tired. Then Bon Bon Hei struck again, this time bringing his sword down at such an angle as to shatter Kaz's whistler sword. The blow threw Kaz to the ground and he rolled away, but in the process, the injury he had received back in his ancestor's time reopened and blood began to pour from the wound. Without his sword, he would be forced to use other means to defend himself.

Bon Bon Hei grinned evilly at his opponent, his confidence growing now that his adversary was weaponless and wounded. He quickly acted and brought his sword down toward Kaz's neck, but he was not prepared for Kaz to bring up his leg and kick him directly in the solar plexus. The kick knocked the wind out of him giving Kaz the opportunity he needed to regain his feet and to again prepare to fight. This time Bon Bon Hei dropped his sword and tried to continue in the tradition of the Tiger with Kaz answering as the Crane. Their dance continued with the crane blocking and deflecting every strike that the tiger attempted. Then Kaz saw his opening and gave a double flying kick to Bon Bon Hei's head. No one could stop what happened next. Bon Bon Hei fell backward, landing directly on the shard remains of Kaz's whistler sword. When he rose slowly from the floor, he stood staring at Kaz, then toppled forward, the remains of the sword sticking out of his back. At the death of their leader, the remaining marauders fled the temple, all fight had left them. Kaz released the breath that he was holding.

"Quickly, come with me. He needs you." A young monk pulled Kaz by the arm and led him down the hall leading to the infirmary.

Kaz's eyes narrowed in puzzlement then became wide as he saw a sight that he thought he would never have the opportunity of ever having again.

"You must help him. It is said that a Guide can heal wounds with barely a touch."

Kaz approached the prone man and he could see that his breathing was shallow. What bandages and herbs the Shaolin tried to use to staunch the wound were only partially effective. Tears stung Kaz's eyes as he realized that his father was alive, but would soon not be if he did not do something.

At that moment, Caine turned to see his son standing beside him, alive though not totally whole, "My son, I need you," Caine whispered as he reached a weak hand toward Kaz.

Without hesitation Kaz brought his hands up to the gaping wound in his father's neck and recited the age old ritual and began the healing.

"You come to me and you need me. I go to you for our union is real. I become you and you become me and I heal you as I heal myself."

Kaz found himself slipping into a meditative state and in that state, he could sense his father's essence and he felt it grow stronger with each passing minute. In that same instance, the wound that was on Kaz's shoulder also began to close and heal. What other wounds whether they be physical or not, were soon washed away as each became a part of the other and their essences merged. Through that merging, Kaz could feel the love that his father had for him that he had not felt so strongly before. His father shared with him images when Kaz had been an infant. The very eyes that Kaz remembered seeing as a child in his dreams he finally understood whose eyes they were. They were the loving eyes of his father. Kaz saw himself as an infant in his mother's arms and as she rode out of his father's life. He had no idea that even then, he had reached out toward him, not wanting to be separated. The empty place in his soul that he long denied was there filled as he finally understood that his father had no choice when his mother had left. It had broken his father's heart. They knew each other like no father and son ever would and in that instance, Kaz knew what it truly meant to be Shaolin, Range Guide, and now, a Caine. Pride swelled through him and as the healing ended, he brushed his father's face with his fingers and said with tears brimming his eyes, "I love you . . . Pop."

Caine opened one eye and glared at his son, though there was a twinkle in his eye, "Do not call me Pop, and where did you learn that word anyway?"

"Well, it is traditional, isn't it?" Kaz responded with a shrug.

Peter stood out on the balcony. The rain softly fell around him as he looked out across the mist-covered city. The weather was a reflection of what he was feeling in his soul. Peter let the rain soak his hair and clothing, trying to wash away the pain. The two deaths that should not have happened weighed on his soul. To think there was almost a third and a descendent of his had prevented that from happening gave him some comfort. But, the fact that Bon Bon Hei had escaped did not help matters.

"What troubles you, my son?"

Shame filled Peter for the second time. He felt his father's hand on his shoulder as he led Peter back inside and away from the rain soaked balcony.

"I feel so ashamed for what I did. I should have trusted enough to tell you. If it hadn't been for Kaz saving Tommy, I . . ." Peter nearly choked on the words.

"Yes, my son?"

"I don't think I would have stayed around," Peter said, his voice going down to a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm not worthy to be a Shaolin."

"Peter, you still have much to learn. Even I have had days where I have felt that I have failed in my duty. I am just a man."

"Sometimes I wonder about that, Pop."

"You must forgive yourself. Bon Bon Hei tried to take advantage of your duty as a Shaolin, but he did not succeed."

"Did not succeed? What do you call two deaths?" Peter cried angrily. "Don't forget he also escaped."

Caine let out a deep sigh. "Those deaths could not be prevented. Dwelling on them will not bring them back, my son. You must find a reason to see the good. Thomas is alive. The killing has stopped. Bon Bon Hei may have escaped, but eventually his evil will catch up with him. Perhaps not in this lifetime. Come, I will make you some scorpian pizza?"

Kaz checked his horse's tack and repositioned the pack on his back so it was more comfortable. The monks who cared for his horse had done a very good job. The animal had grown somewhat fat on the grasses and grains they had fed him, but it was time for Kaz to move on and he knew his horse would soon regain his sleek firm body and relearn the signals that rider and mount were most familiar with.

"Must you go?"

Kaz turned to face his father standing at the top of the stairs at the entrance to the temple. "I am a Guide. I must follow my path."

"You are also Shaolin and a Caine."

"I know."

"Will you return?" Caine asked.

"Perhaps, one day. I . . . do not know," Kaz said and gave his father a familiar shrug that seemed to always be present within the Caine line.

"Kaz, I must apologize for Matthew. He thought he knew what was best. Even he did not know the full truth. He chose to see only a portion of that truth. If he . . . if we had been honest from the beginning, perhaps the training had not been necessary."

"No, the training taught me more than just how to fight in other ways, Father" Kaz stated. "It taught me that I still have a lot to learn. You have taught me that much of the Range Guide's training actually came from the Shaolin, but much of it also came from other sources. I no longer have a sword, but for some reason, it no longer matters. I will always be a Guide, but now, I must learn more what it means to be Shaolin. When I saved Thomas Carradine, two men tried to block our escape. I used my sword, but I did not kill them. Any other time I might have. A Range Guide without his sword is thought to be defenseless, but I am learning that I am not. I have been taught skills that no other Range Guide will ever know."

"Where will you go, my son?"

"Wherever the wind takes me."

End