The dread stirring around in my gut made me want to throw up.

  I helped Tanaka push us out into the lake, and it was soon obvious that his driving skills would only contribute to my nauseous feeling. We were less than thirty feet from shore when I finally leaned over the edge of the raft and let it out.

  There must have been something left in the old chute, because it would not be the last time I spewed that day.

  Sitting back when I was finished, ignoring the others’ looks, knees to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs, I let out a big sigh, looking out at the Pointing Finger in anticipation.

  I felt much better.

  As we slowly moved across the lake, the mist grew thicker until it was more like fog, and it became difficult to see where we were going. Eventually, all signs of the Pointing Finger were gone, and Tanaka had to rely on his sense of direction to keep us on course. I looked up at him, and couldn't help but think how strange this would have seemed if I had been able to look into the future a month or two ago.

  Tanaka had grown very serious, his stern face a scowl, staring ahead with a concentrated gaze that made me think his eyes must be growing tired. The fog had dampened his hair and scraggly eyebrows. Without ever breaking his focus on what lay ahead, he slowly moved the long paddle in the water, switching between the sides of the raft, taking a couple of steps each time to span the wide raft.

  The fog created an eerie silence, and the splashy sound of Tanaka's oar going in and out of the water echoed slightly. I began to worry that we were heading off course.

  The sound of my sneeze exploded in the strange silence.

  No one seemed to notice except Hood, who turned in my direction.

  “Kaze ohiku,” said Miyoko without a glance. A memory rushed into my head.

  It was like that phrase again, the one I had heard back on the train, the one that had to be the Japanese version of “bless you.” That confirmed it. I had definitely sneezed back on the train, right before I lost the power of The Shield. It was just so hard to believe, so silly, but it had to be true. The act of sneezing is what turned The Shield on and off. But then, where was—

  Something whipped past in the air above us, causing a disturbance in the fog. It made the same swooshing sound I'd heard in the woods by the river.

  I knew what it had to be.

  The Sounding Rod.

  The only thing I didn't understand was why it wasn't making that awful noise.

  “Miyoko, throw something at me, anything,” I said.

  “What? Why—”

  “Just do it! I'll explain in a minute. Take out a flashlight or something and throw it at me like you want to hurt me. I just want to make sure The Shield works.” I said this even though I had an almost certain feeling that it wouldn't. But, I knew she wouldn't throw it hard if she suspected anything.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a compass.

  “Throw it as hard as you can,” I urged her.

  She pulled back, like a major leaguer, then heaved it straight for my face.

  It whacked me in the nose, making me fall back into the arms of Hood. I had thought I'd be able to turn my head at least, but it came too fast. It hurt something awful.

  Hood helped me back to a sitting position, and patted me on the back. As I rubbed my nose, willing the pain away, I thought that maybe our old Hood was finally back in true form, showing his unique sense of humor.

  “That hurt,” I said, very needlessly.

  “What … what happened?” Miyoko asked. “Why did The Shield not protect you?” It was the first time I'd seen Miyoko look so concerned, including our little run from the mudslide.

  “Well, I don't know exactly. It'll sound completely crazy to you guys.”

  Miyoko raised her eyebrows at me, then said, “Jimmy, I have a friend over there who won't let anyone see his face, travels through a red ring, and has paint coming out of his finger. Try me.”

  “Yeah, I see your point. Well, before I met up with Hood over there, my family was attacked by a bunch of men on motorcycles.”

  “The Bosu Zoku,” Tanaka chimed in.

  “You know them?” I asked.

  “Yes, we know them,” Miyoko explained. “They are all over Japan—they are the motorcycle gangs that try to disturb the peace and cause all kinds of trouble.”

  “They're that big? All over Japan, like the mafia?”

  “No, no, that would be the Yakuza, our word for mafia. The Bosu Zoku are not organized. They are just a bunch of independently run gangs scattered throughout the country.”

  “Well, then, it must have just been a local gang that has been overrun by the Shadow Ka. We'd sure hoped they'd all been sucked out of people's minds when I blocked the Black Curtain, but I can't see how those people could have been anything but Shadow Ka. Their leader, Kenji, seemed to know everything, and he had the Sounding Rod, which is obviously not of this world.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Miyoko. “Look at the Hooded One. Do you think he is a Shadow Ka? Are you a Shadow Ka? You both have special powers, but you're both of this world. Maybe they are another group formed here on earth, just like us, except they're on the side of the Stompers and Shadow Ka. By the way, what is the Sounding Rod?”

  “It's this weird black stick that can melt into a liquid and then re-form, so that it can go anywhere it wants. Kenji set it to following us, and said that I am the only person that can set it off. At the time, I didn't know what ‘set it off’ meant. When my family and I were on a train, it suddenly formed into this weird shaped cone, and let off a horrendous sound that made us all cover our ears. It made me lose The Shield, which is why Kenji and the Bosu Zoku were able to capture my family.”

  I went on to tell them the entire story in more detail, all the way up to following the clues left by Hood to find him in the house. Then I knew I had to lay my theory on them.

  “Anyway, I think I might have figured out what sets off the Sounding Rod.”

  I gave them an uncertain look.

  “Well, what is it?” Tanaka asked.

  “Sneezing.”

  “Sneezing.” Miyoko didn't even ask it as a question, she just said it dully, like she was accusing me of being a smart-aleck.

  “Sneezing?” Tanaka was perplexed. “Jimmy-san, you go crazy after mudslide?”

  “No, I'm very serious, and I'm very not crazy. I've gone back in my mind, and every time the Sounding Rod either started or stopped, I'm almost certain that it coincided with me sneezing. I just can't figure out why the couple of times it has happened since the train I haven't been able to hear that same sound as before.”

  Tanaka and Miyoko were both in a state of deep thought, considering my whole story. I sat anxiously, their silence maddening, hoping that they believed me.

  “Well,” Miyoko finally chimed in, “I think I might know why.”

  “Really? What is it?” I was very interested.

  “I'm in some advanced classes at my school, because I am abnormally intelligent.”

  She paused a second, letting that sink in. I think she was just joking around, but I wasn't certain. I didn't say anything, and just waited for her to go on.

  “In one of my classes we've studied the properties of sound, waves and such. Sound can reach a point where it's so high, that humans can't hear it anymore. You've probably heard about dog whistles, where it's a very high-pitched sound that dogs can hear even though humans cannot.”

  “Hey, at the house where I met Hood, I could hear lots of dogs barking in the distance! I bet you're right! But why would it have changed after that first time on the train?”

  “Well, if the sound is within a confined space, like the train, then it can bounce off whatever is holding it in, and those vibrations can make their own sound. Trains are made of metal, so maybe the horrible sound you heard was the violent reaction of the metal to the powerful waves emitting from the Sounding Rod. Also, sound waves can break glass, which would explain the broken windows at the house and on the train.”

  “Hmmm, that sounds like a pretty dang good explanation. You really are smart, Miyoko. I thought you'd be more like your dad.”

  Tanaka made a surprised grunting noise, like he wasn't quite sure he had heard me right.

  I continued. “You know, I also wonder why it's hiding from me now. I haven't seen it as much since the train, although I think I've heard it flying by in the air above me a couple of times.”

  “Maybe it has its own brain. The first time, it wanted to make sure you understood its power, but now it's trying to have the element of surprise on its side, hoping you would not be able to figure out exactly when you lost The Shield, so that it would be harder for you to figure out the thing about the sneezing.”

  At that one moment, I was certain Miyoko was the smartest person alive. Well, at least the smartest fourteen-year-old alive, anyway.

  “Wow,” I said, “That's some deep stuff. But heck, it makes perfect sense to me. Doesn't help me get The Shield back, though. I need some sneezing powder for that. Which, by the way, leads to another question. Why in the world would a sneeze control that thing? Does that fit into your laws of physics too?”

  “I can't explain that one. I don't know if the Sounding Rod is from this world, and it may have its own rules. But yeah, you're right. We need you to sneeze, and then never sneeze again. Simple, right?”

  I was just about to reply when the raft slammed into something, throwing all of us forward. Miyoko had been standing, and fell on top of me, banging my head with her elbow. If I'd had The Shield, she would have been thrown into the water. Hood and Tanaka would have fallen into the water as well, except something stopped their forward progress, which they both hit hard with their heads.

  I didn't realize that Tanaka had been that blinded by the fog.

  We had arrived at the Pointing Finger.

  It was absolutely huge.

  The Pointing Finger was as wide across as a big house, its rock glimmering a dark, shiny black. There was no shoreline, no gradual slope from the Finger down into the water. The towering pillar shot from the lake, straight up into the sky. We all followed its course with our eyes, looking at it go up and up and up, finally disappearing into the fog. From the shoreline where we'd first set off on the raft, it had not seemed so massive.

  It was like an ancient castle tower, carved from black glass and smoothed out with dragon flame. Once again, I felt like I was in hobbit land. I half expected a wizard to open a secret door and invite us in for cakes.

  As we gawked at this unbelievable structure, one thing became immediately clear.

  There was no way we could climb this smooth tree of glass.

  “Jimmy-san,” Tanaka joked. “Why you not pay attention, my friend? We could be killed crashing into big rock like that!”

  He and Hood had regained their balance as well as their composure, and Miyoko and I untangled ourselves from each other. We quickly put distance between us, feeling a little uncomfortable at having suddenly been so close. She gave me goose bumps again, and I still couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “You need to sneeze, Jimmy, so we don't have to go through that again.”

  As if she had said a magic word, a sneeze exploded from my nose, and Tanaka bellowed as he wiped something off of his face. I was embarrassed, even though it was funny.

  Miyoko threw a coin at me. I wasn't surprised when it bounded away from me only to hit Tanaka in the head. He was livid, although his slight smile showed it was feigned. Miyoko spoke through her laugh.

  “Wow, that was quick. Now don't sneeze again.”

  “Jimmy-san, you much trouble. I might make you marry my daughter for punishment!”

  “Very funny, Mr. Tanaka,” I said back to him. “Now what do we do? I don't think my hands are sticky enough for me to climb that slippery rock.”

  “Ah, Mr. America, you need to trust Mr. Tanaka. You just watch, and maybe keep quiet, neh?” He said it with his patented smile.

  He dipped the long oar back into the water. After banging into the black pillar, the raft had already drifted about ten feet from it. The creeping fog continued to fill the air all around us, as did the hanging silence, only broken by the hollow sound of our voices and the water lapping against the raft and paddle.

  Tanaka steered us around the Finger, heading for the opposite side. We all stood with our eyes riveted to the black rock as we rounded it, waiting for whatever Tanaka was looking for. The fog made it hard to see, but we strained our eyes anyway.

  Soon Tanaka pulled up his paddle and set its end on the raft. He leaned against it.

  “So,” he said. “You see it, Jimmy-san?”

  “Yeah,” was all I could manage.

  The fog had cleared slightly from the side of the Finger, just enough to reveal some amazing structures protruding from the rock. Starting from the water and going all the way up, as far as we could see before being swallowed in the fog above, rods of black rock stuck out from the Pointing Finger in random fashion, pointing this way and that, scattered all about, with two or three feet between each one. My first thought was that it looked like a huge tree that had all of its branches sawed off about four feet from the trunk. The width of the area of branches was about fifteen feet across, continuing all the way up the Finger, and they were made of the same material as the pillar they protruded from, black and shiny.

  Tanaka looked at me, seeing my amazement, and gave me a wink, hardly discernible under his enormous eyebrow.

  “Ready to climb?” he asked.

  “Mr. Tanaka, what would you say this pillar and all of those things sticking out of it remind you of?”

  “Ah, a tree, neh?”

  “That's right. And you're looking at the best dang tree-climber that ever walked the earth.”

  My statement seemed to surprise them, and they stared at me as I walked up to the edge of the raft and leaned out to grab one of the branches of rock. The excitement of climbing again filled me, and for one moment I forgot about all our troubles.

  “Ganbarrrrro!” I yelled in my best Tanaka fashion, and pulled myself onto the wall of branches.

  My companions followed, Tanaka's laugh piercing the foggy air.

  The black branches were perfectly spaced apart, the most ideal climbing tree I'd ever seen. This was the kind of tree I'd searched for my whole life, the kind of tree a fourteen-year-old dreamed about—even better than Ole Betsy back home. Of course, it wasn't a tree, but that was beside the point.

  We started at a fast pace, moving from branch to branch, scaling the Finger like a team of lumberjacks. Hood had the most difficulty. He kept feeling around for the branches, groping like he couldn't quite see well enough. I still hadn't figured out how he could see in the first place through the robe. Maybe the blackness of everything combined with the fog was throwing off his version of sight. His robe kept catching on the black sticks as well, making it all the more difficult.

  “Hang in there, Mr. Hood!” I yelled down at him.

  He stuck out his right arm and brought his forearm up, as if to show his flexed muscles, though we couldn't see a thing through all that robe. But it gave us a good laugh.

  It seemed strange under the circumstances to be having so much fun, but I couldn't have cared less. I felt like a kid again, and it was great.

  We climbed and we climbed. Soon, all we could see both above and below was fog. It was an eerie feeling, clambering up the side of this black tower of rock, seemingly lost in a world of white mist. I felt like Jack on his way up the beanstalk. I just hoped a man-eating giant never entered our story.

  Soon the fatigue settled in, and the fun turned into major labor. I began to believe the Pointing Finger went all the way to the moon. My arms and legs ached, and sweat poured down my face, despite the cool air. Miyoko and Tanaka seemed to be just fine, climbing with no effort whatsoever. Determined to keep my word that I was the best climber in the world, I tried to hide my fading strength, and kept moving along.

  But it was getting harder and harder for Hood. Several times, we had to slow down or stop so that he could catch up. I feared he would slip and fall, and wondered if someone should climb underneath him. I almost voiced my thought when a whooping cry from Tanaka cut me short.

  I looked up. The top was in sight.

  And so was the woman standing there.

  My heart skipped a beat, and I nearly lost my grip. No one had ever mentioned that a person would be waiting for us at the top of the Finger. Her features were blurred in the misty air, but her form stood rigid, hands on her hips, looking down at us. The others did not appear alarmed, so I took a breath of relief and asked Miyoko about the woman.

  “She is one of us,” was her reply. “Her name is Rayna.”

  Miyoko didn't say another word and continued her climb.

  I looked down at Hood, and asked him if he was okay. He nodded his huge, hooded head and reached for the next branch.

  We scrambled up the last few spikes and climbed onto the top of the Finger. A wide pathway encircled the top, made from the same shiny black material. In the center was a vast, gaping hole. I carefully walked to the edge of the hole and glanced down.

  A blast of warm air hit my face, and my head began to swim. It was deep, very deep. A red glow, very faint, came from somewhere at the bottom, slightly illuminating the inside of the massive, black shaft of metallic stone. Then I noticed something odd in the middle of the hole.

  It was a … slide.

  Starting straight across from me, going from the outer circular path leading to the very center of the shaft, was a flat, smooth extension of the black rock. It then shot downward in a tight spiral, winding and winding like a curly-que French fry for as far down as I could see in the red light. The entire structure was one piece, and stood like another tower within the one we had just ascended. It looked for all the world like a kid's wildest dream come true. A slide for the ages.