Master of the Wind 
by LesliWeird

        "Good morning, Jessie" Hadji cheerfully intoned. His beturbaned
head rested on the floor, facing the oposite direction as his feet and his
hands reached back to grasp his ankles. He stretched languidly, pushing
his chest upward.  Jesse glared down at him. 
        "I dont' see how you can be so damn chipper at three am." Her
voice was cracked and sleepy. 
        "One can to anything one puts one's mind to," Hadji replied
sagely. "And your father made coffee." Grumbling, Jessie drug herself to
the table and poured a mug of the rich black liquid for herself. Funny,
she thought, last night this trip had seemed like a good idea. She hadn't
counted on having to get up this early. Until the Dragonfly was repaired,
however, they were going to have to travel like normal people: on the
regular airlines. 
        "Where's Jonny?" she asked, somewhat more lucid after a few gulps
of coffee. 
        "Finishing packing," Hadji answered, his back now parallel to the
floor.
        "Ugh. You'd think he could have done that some time within the
*week* that we knew about this trip!" she paused. "Hadji?" 
        "Yes, Jessie?" 
        "Why does the flight to Peru go through Memphis?" 

        "So, doc," Race asked "why ARE we in Peru?" Jonny, Jesse, and
Hadij stood nearby, their packs abandoned, trying to take in all of the
beauty of the scenery from the edge of the precipice. The Amazon
rainforest spread out below them like a green carpet, the trees brimming
over with life. A bird of paradise drifted lazily across the afternoon
sky. Race and Benton relaxed in the shade of a large tree. Alone, leaning
against a different tree, their guide, Montoya, rolled a cigarette. 
        Without lifting his gaze from his tracking device Dr. Quest
answered Race.  "About two months ago, I sold some electrospectral
analysis equipment, with its basis in my Quest World theories, to an
expidition called Barton-Rayt.  They were investigating a paranornmal
phenomenon in the Andes that they called "Viento Muerto". They said they'd
found something incredible, and that they needed my help to adjust the
equipment to record it." 
        "Vi-ento Muerto." Jonny repeated, turning back to them from the
cliff. "What does that mean?"
        "Quiere decir," Montoya answered in a rogh leathery voice, "Dead
Wind." 

        A strong wind tugged at Jessie's long red mane as she watched the
sun dip toward the tops of the montains. Something felt wrong. The forest
had thinned as they hiked further up, and it seemed as if the life of the
place had thinned as well. It was almost silent, the opressive quiet
penetrated only by an occasional bug, or the echo of a howl fron the
jungle below them. The crunching sound of Montoya's boots shook her from
her reverie. 
        "I leave you now, Senor Quest" he said. "The site is half a
kilometer that way." Dr. Quest nodded. 
        "You've been most helpful, Mr. Montoya. Thank you." He held out
his hand to shake. Montoya grunted around his cigarrete and clasped the
hand firmly, then turned and walked away. 
        "Talkative guy, wasn't he?" Race grumbled. "I don't like this one
bit.  Whyd'ya s'pose he's not coming all the way up with us?" 
        "Probably scared of the Vi-ento Muerto," Jonny said in a mockingly
dark voice. Race glared at him and shouldered his pack. 
        "C'mon gang, let's get moving." Jessie shuddered inwardly. Montoya
wasn't the only one scared. 

        The Barton-Rayt camp was a small huddle of tents crouched near an
ancient crumbling village. Vines crawled over all of the buildings,
probably the only living thing to venture into the dead city for a hundred
years before the scientists. The wind howled angrily, as if it wished it
could push the intruders off its mountain.
        Inside the camp, Jonny tossed down his pack and began to root
through it for a sweater. Without the sun, the camp air had turned cold,
and the wind wasn't helping. Dr. Quest retrieved a coat as well, then
headed off excitedly for the largest tent, followed closely by everyone
else.
        "Dr. Quest!" a woman exclaimed as they entered. "How wonderful to
finally meet the man behind the machine!" She was a petite brunette with a
faintly oriental look about her. She grabbed his hand and shook it
exuberantly. 
        "Dr. Barton," Race cut in, "What is this Dead Wind that you're up
here studying?" 
        "Ah, yes, Viento Muerto. I like that. Right to the point. About a
year ago, I first heard the story. A wind, in the ruins in these
mountains, that the natives said was the voice of the dead. They say that
the wind blows and the air becomes to thin to breathe and the intruders
are transported beyond the realm of the living." She paused for a moment.
Outside, the wind howled like a madman. The lights flickered.
        "Our generator," Dr. Barton apologized. "Your machine takes a lot
of power to run. Which brings me to what I wanted to show you." She led
them to the machine and opened a cylindrical compartment. Inside was an
ancient stone talisman. "We found this inside the ruins of the temple. We
think it is a clue to the Viento Muerto. See these symbols here? The
symbols for Wind and for Power." The lights flickered again. 
        "Doctor, have you ever expeirienced this phenominon?" asked Hadji. 
        "It hasn't happened since I've arived, no, but your guide, Mr.
Montoya, has.  He was one of the first members of our expedition to this
site." 
        "And now he won't come back," Race observed. The doctor ignored
him. 
        "This is what I wanted to show you. When we try to run tests on
this, the energy goes right off the chart."
        Jonny yawned. The hike must have worn him out more than he
thought. He felt tired, almost dizzy. The wind screamed against the
mountain and everything went black. 

        Hadji opened his eyes slowly, his gaze meeting a dull orange sky,
as if the world hung between day and night. He knew this place. This was
the astral plane, and from the look of things, not at all a happy corner
of it. He sat up, craddling his aching head. The others lay strewn about
him, still unconscious. Towering above him, a black silhouette against the
garrish sky, the temple stood whole. A horrible sound echoed out of the
structure's entrance, a sound that made Hadji quake in terror. A deep,
cruel, ominous laughter
        "Dr. Quest," he said, shaking his mentor, "Dr. Quest, wake up!"
One by one the others came to, each in turn gasping for breath in terror.
Hadji told them all he knew. 
        "So how do we get back?" Jessie asked frantically. 
        "We must confront whatever is in that temple." 
        "So let's get going!" Jonny lept to his feet and dashed toward the
temple. 
        "JONNY! NO!" Dr. Quest yelled. Jonny couldn't hear him, however,
because another sound drowned his cry. The sound of wind.
        Jonny fell backwards as the gust hit him, bruised but unharmed.
Dr. Quest, directly behind his son, was not so lucky. The wind launched
him into the air and tossed him backwards, into Dr. Barton and over the
side of the mountain.  Their screams echoed back up to the horrified Quest
team. 
        "DAD!! NO!" Jonny's blue eyes filled with tears. He laid his head
in the grass and began to cry. It was his fault. His father was dead and
it was all his fault. Race walked over to him and tried to comfort him,
but Jonny's soft sobbing persisted. 
        "C'mon kid, crying doesn't do your dad any good." 
        "Yes," Hadji agreed, putting a comforting hand on Jonny's
shoulder, "We must go on." After a moment Jonny nodded and wiped his eyes,
even though new tears sprang up in place of the old ones. 
        Eerie laughter hammered at them as they aproached the temple.
Suddenly, the wind behind them swirled and cunvulged into three small
tornadoes. Even from the steps, they could see the sharp peices of rock
swirling inside.
        "You three, go now!" Race yelled. "I'll hold these things off." 
        "Dad, you can't!" Jessie's voice was panicked and cracked with
grief
        "Don't argue with me, Ponchita, just GO!" Jessie hesitated, then
turned and ran through the door. Inside, Jonny, Jessie, and Hadji heard a
slam as a stone slab came down behind them, blocking their exit. 
        "DAD!" Jessie screamed, launching herself at the slab, desperately
pounding against it until she felt Hadji's hands grab her shoulders. She
slumped back against him and began to weep. 
        "Listen," Hadji said, stroking her hair in an atempt to calm her,
"There is a chance, if we can defeat whatever it is that holds us here,
that we can still save both your parents. Jessie straightened, her eyes
burning with green fire. 
        "Then let's go." Her voice was cold and determined as iron. 
        "Oh?" The word crashed throught the air like lightning. "It's not
that easy, defiler! You face the Master of the Wind!" 
        The stones of the roof began to shake loose, dropping in large
chunks. Jessie pulled Hadji away to the side, but Jonny was burried in the
avalanche. Hadji looked back at Jessie, only to see her legs pinned
beneath a fallen rock. Her eye's smoldered. 
        "Find him, Hadji. Find him and beat him for me." The floor began
to quiver and cave in. Hadji grabbed for Jessie's wrist, but he was too
slow and she tumbled into the blackness. The lauging began again, low and
maniacal. 
        Hadji turned around slowly, his exotic face twisted with
rage.Before him stood an Incan warrior in full battle dress. Dr. Barton's
talisman hung around his neck. He sneered down at Hadji. 
        "So defiler, you think you can take the medallion away from me!
You cannot!  It is MINE! I won it fairly. I am the true master of the
wind! All who oppose me will fall!"
        "You!" Hadji snarled. "Dr. Quest, Race, Jonny, and Jessie too!
Their blood is on your hands! You are a monster!" The Incan spectre
laughed at him. 
        Rage flooded through Hadji. An unbriddled hatred such as he had
never experienced. His astral self began to glow, fueled by his intense
emotions.  His skin darkened to black. His hands became great paws. The
master of the winds took a fearful step backwards as Hadji Singh's anger
transformed him.  Driven by his desire for justice, Hadji, now a sleek
black panther, let out a long feral roar. 
        Hadji's eyes glinted in the dim light as he lunged for the
warrior, knocking both of them into an elaborate altar. The master of te
wind tried futiley to bat away the giant cat, but Hadji would not be
stopped. His claws raked across the warrior's chest, snapping the necklace
that held the talisman. The warrior screamed and vanished, leaving Hadji
alone in the temple.
        Alone with his grief, Hadji shrank back to his normal form. He
picked up the medallion and tied it around his own neck. There was much he
still had to do. 
        The winds brought Hadji's friends back, laying their bodies in a
row before him. He closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer that
this would work.  He knelt by Jessie. She was so beautiful, so peaceful.
He took her in his arms and brought his lips to hers, letting the power of
the medallion surge through him and into her. She stirred in his arms. She
was alive! Hadji nearly cried for joy.
        He set Jessie down gently, letting her sleep, and moved to each of
the others, touching the medallion to their lips. They too, began to
breathe again, settling into a deep sleep. Hadji remove the medallion and
set it on the alter, then searched his mind for the invisible cord that
connected him to his physical body and drew himself into it. 
        Everyone awoke that morning in their own bodies. The talisman was
gone and the machine in ruins. Hadji sat in a quiet sunny corner, deep in
his meditation, and deeply at peace.