"Shhhhh"

"Don't worry. She's not gonna hear us."

"Who do you suppose she is?"

"I don't know, Mikey. She's not wearing a name tag."

"I mean, what do you think she's doing down here?"

"Runaway, probably. Whaddya think, Don?"

"I think we should just follow her and make sure she gets out of the sewer ok. She looks scared."

"How 'bout you, Fearless Leader?...Leo?...hey, Leo! Earth to Leonardo!"

"Hm?"

"Hey, you got a starin' problem? Whaddaya wanna do about her?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Like Don said. Follow her, and make sure she gets out of the sewer safely."

My name is Lia Hanrahan, and I think I may have made a wrong turn somewhere. The truth is, I'm not even sure what I'm doing down here anymore.

I find myself wandering through the stench-filled bowels of the underworld, looking for something, or someone, and I have no idea what. It seems that when I had first started out, I had been a lot clearer about what I was doing. At least earlier today, when I had found my way into these dark tunnels through a construction site excavation, it had been easier to run on faith. Now doubt has crept in. Like the dank chill down here, reality is closing in on me.

Far above me, in the glare of the sunlight, the great city throbs with life. Here, below, falls her refuse, what she prefers not to acknowledge as her own. In the half-light, with the distant muted gurgle of water, the hiss of overhead pipes, and the slosh of my own boots, it is easy to imagine other sounds, shapes, and movement in the shadows.

Fear comes and goes in waves as I trudge along.

I had prepared myself as best as I could according to what the Wisewoman had told me. She said, "Purify yourself first in fast and prayer. When you are pure of heart, and clear in intention, go to the place I have shown you. Show yourself to be harmless. When those you seek understand your intention, they will come to you. Do not doubt though, they will long be aware of your presence before you are aware of theirs."

I had walked for hours. And now, with each step, I felt my spirits sinking further. I saw only shadows in the darkness, and now those were deepening as less light fell through the storm grates. In some areas, where the tunnels seemed to run deeper underground, I could see almost nothing, and moved along by feel, my hands on the cold wet brick wall, needing to touch it, and afraid of what my hands might find. I had been wandering blind like this for sometime when I found a wide area where I could walk above the debris-cluttered water. I stumbled into a block of broken concrete. It seemed like a good time to stop and take stock. I sat down. I took my poncho out of my pack, and pulled it over me, drawing up my knees so the bright-colored wool covered most of me, and stared out into the gloom, listening. Far away the gurgling from the labyrinthine tunnels joined, as many voices murmuring.

I sat, feeling numb, trying to orient my self in the dark, and trying to connect with what my inner senses were telling me. I was exhausted past fear. The hope I had clung to earlier had paled to a frail ghost. If I let myself get honest, I knew despair would finally win. I knew there was no one down here to help me. I was nearly 3,000 miles from home on a wing and a prayer and some well-intentioned advice. I looked around. I had no idea how to get back to the place I had entered. I could probably die down here and never be found...

So this was it. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. It was over. The realization hit me like a blow. I felt foolish, lost, and mostly, completely and utterly alone. I dropped my head into my arms, gave up, and started crying. "There's no one here, Lia, you idiot." I said out loud into my arms. "No one at all..."

"Whom do you seek?"

I gasped and looked up. It was a young man's voice. I peered first to the right and then to the left, down the long tunnel stretching into the darkness on either side. "Who's there?" I whispered. Fear was suddenly back; my heart thudded.

"Who are you and who is it you seek here?" the voice countered.

"My name is Lia," I quavered. "I was told by my teacher to look here for four warriors. I was told if I showed myself to be harmless and of good intention, I might ask for help. She told me to pray and purify myself, you know, to be prepared and I did all that and...um...hello?"

Silence.

I stood up clumsily, slipping on the damp brick, and leaning against the cold wall behind me. "I, uh, I suppose you can see I'm harmless?" The icy sensation of fear closed around me. I stared out blindly, my breath becoming shaky gasps. This guy could be anybody, and here I was telling him how harmless I was. "This seems a little strange," I ventured. "I can't see you."

"I can see you."

"Oh, good. That makes me feel better. I'm in a sewer, talking to some nameless, faceless voice who can see me."

"My name is Leonardo."

"Ok. A faceless voice named Leonardo."

"Right. Who is your teacher, and how did she know where to send you?"

"Her name is Belladonna, and she didn't actually know. She went into a trance and sent me here." A long silence followed. I wondered if I was being evaluated. I was certain my clarity of intention was no where in evidence. I was much too frightened of being murdered. I hugged my arms, trying to control my shaking. "You know," I finally said to the darkness. "I don't know if I'm supposed to be coming up with some secret password, or running for my life...not that you would tell me...though you could, I guess, if you wanted to..." I realized I was beginning to babble.

"You have nothing to fear."

Far up the passage to my left there was a movement, a shadow moving out of the shadows, and a little behind, three more. As they approached they took on form; they appeared to be short, even shorter than me, with something like packs on their backs. They moved silently, with cat-like grace, on the opposite shore of the narrow stream of debris-littered water. At twenty paces I could make out dark faces, masks of some kind. At ten paces I could see they were not human.

I heard myself make a strange squeaking noise, and fell back into the wall behind me, my boots slipping and crunching underfoot.

My vision began going gray, and I started feeling light-headed as my understanding of reality was violently challenged. They did not carry packs on their backs, but something like large turtle shells. Their arms and legs were muscled like powerful athletes, and they carried antiquated-looking weapons on their belts. Each wore a knotted fabric mask around his face, and their eyes gazed out, pale and reptilian, with human intelligence.

My legs went to jelly, I lost my footing and started to slip as two of them leaped at me. I screamed and felt cool, leathery hands catch me and steady me.

"It's ok, you're alright," one was saying. "We won't hurt you."

My breath was coming in ragged gasps. "Ok," I croaked, shrinking back. "I'm ok."

The two that held my arms slowly let go and stepped back. "We thought you were falling," said one. "You don't want to fall in that stuff." I nodded and swallowed and stared at them. They waited. It finally occurred to me that they were waiting for me to say something.

"What, I mean, who are you?" I asked when I found my voice.

"I'm Leonardo," said the one at my right.

"Mike," said the one on my left.

"Don." The one standing in midstream nodded at me.

The fourth hung back on the opposite side. "Raphael," he said at last.

"Are you...you're the four warriors?" I asked.

"Yeah, you found us!" On my left Mike's face twisted into a toothy, rakish grin. It was disconcerting, but I think it was meant to be friendly.

"Actually," said Don, stepping up out of the slimy water. "We found you." The glimmer of a smile curved half his mouth.

"Yeah, and who had to find you?" Mike asked Don, grinning wider and playfully punching his arm.

"I wasn't lost," said Don. "It was a Hewlett Packard Laser Jet II. I couldn't just leave it there!"

"You're always lost," muttered Raphael from across the stream.

"I'm lost? I'm lost?" demanded Don, turning back to look at him. "Look who's talking!"

"I don't get lost," argued Raphael.

I stared at them. These ferocious looking creatures sounded like teenage boys. I was even more confused. This was hardly what I had imagined, but what had I been expecting? Soldiers of fortune? Knights in armor?

"Um, I want to apologize for frightening you," said Leonardo, cutting through the other's bantering. "We must be very careful. We have taken a risk in speaking to you, but you looked like you needed help. And you sounded like you were looking for us."

I shrugged and gulped. Sorta. I guess...

"But now you must understand something. We would ask that you not tell anyone about us. We may be able to help you, but we will ask you to honor this. It's very important. Do you understand?"

I nodded. Who would believe me, anyway, I thought.

Leonardo was deadly serious. "We have enemies. And we have much to lose."

I looked from one to the other. "Please, you can trust me."

Leonardo looked at me. His face was unreadable to me, but I felt he was trying to read mine. He gave a slight nod, and behind his mask his bright eyes left me and met the others. Something was communicated between them in that brief glance. On the far side, Raphael cocked his head, unsmiling. He scratched his chin and gave Leonardo a significant look.

"So," Don broke the silence. "Assuming it's really us you're looking for, why don't you tell us why you came to us?"

"Ok," I cleared my throat. "It's a long story."

"Then how about giving us the Reader's Digest version?" suggested Raphael rather impatiently.

"Oh. Uh, ok..."

"Hang on, Raph," said Don, turning to me in the gloom. "Tell us everything you think we need to know."

"Yeah, take your time." Mike cheerfully settled down cross-legged at my feet.

I looked at Leonardo again. "Go on," he said more gently than before. "You came to us for help. Tell us what you need."

"Ok..." I gingerly sat back down on the concrete block. I heard Raphael sigh with asperity and slog across the water to stand with the others. I took a deep breath. "I, too, have an enemy," I began. "Four years ago I ran away from home and got involved with a group of people. It was a school of esoteric studies-"

"Whazzat?" asked Mike.

"It means like hidden truths," I explained. "Like information that isn't allowed to be known by everyone-"

"Why not?"

"Michaelangelo!" scolded Don. "Let her tell the story. I'll explain the hard parts to you afterwards!"

" 'Michaelangelo'?" I asked, struck by his name.

"I just wanted to know why anyone would hide the truth," Mike shrugged.

"It's called lying," said Raphael.

"Wait a minute," I interrupted the interruption. "Michaelangelo, Raphael, and Leonardo, like in da Vinci?"

"Yeah," said Leonardo. "Only different."

I looked at Don questioningly. "It's Donatello," he offered.

"Ok," I said feeling like I really wanted to ask about their story, rather than tell mine. "Are you guys artists?"

"Of a sort," said Donatello. "Go on, please."

"Ok, so it was a school of esoteric studies, but there was other stuff, like a regular school, and a martial arts school. When I enrolled there the Master teacher took me on as a-ah, special student. " I paused. These guys, whoever they were, didn't need to know all of this. "Anyway, I was in 'way over my head. At first he was very good to me, but then it got bad...really bad. By the time I realized I was in danger, I also realized I wouldn't be allowed to leave. I knew too much, had seen too much." I bit my lip. I didn't want to feel what I was starting to feel talking about it. Just report the facts.

"What did you see?" asked Michaelangelo.

" Too much. But I realized that if I stayed I would eventually be destroyed..."

"You mean killed?"

"Yes, one way or another..." I looked at each of them, searching for some response to what I had said. Their their faces impassive masks. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I think I get what you're saying," said Donatello.

"He hurt you?" asked Leonardo.

I nodded. I wasn't ready to talk about all that yet. "He can be...um... a very violent man. I wanted to get out, but I didn't know how, even while part of me believed in him and his teachings still." I took a deep breath. "Anyway, I finally did escape. I was so afraid he'd come looking for me, I hid out in the mountains for two years, mostly all alone, except for Belladonna...I started to write a book. It's sort of like an exposé. I even found a publisher here in New York who was willing to take a chance on me..." I looked down the cold must have been getting to me because I was starting to shake again. "The thing is, I have to confront him now. I can't be afraid and hide all my life..."

"It's a matter of honor," nodded Leonardo.

"Couldn't he sue you for libel or something?" asked Donatello.

I shook my head. "He wouldn't go that route. Legally he doesn't even exist. What I really fear is...is..."

"For your life?" finished Michaelangelo.

"Yeah." Now it seemed I was speaking their language. I looked down and paused. I wasn't sure I could go on. I tried to steady my breath, control the shaking emotion inside me.

"Is there anything else?" asked Donatello.

"Yes," I whispered. "He has my daughter."

"Hooboy," whistled Michaelangelo softly.

"You have a daughter?" Donatello sounded puzzled. I'm sure, just like everyone else, he thought I looked too young. It didn't help how I was feeling.

Raphael sat down with resignation. "I suppose you have notified the police?"

"I tried everything..." I was starting to cry again, and I felt embarrassed to be losing it in front of them. "Police, some detective who just disappeared. I even tried some of my old, supposed friends from the school. No one would tell me anything."

"You have no leads at all," said Raphael, making it sound like an accusation.

"Belladonna said he is here, in New York."

"How does she know that?" asked Leonardo.

"The same way she knew how to find you." I answered. "I know one of his three centers is here. I don't know where it is, but he doesn't know I am here, either, so maybe that's an advantage." I looked up at them. "Look, I don't know what you can do, I mean, I only know I was sent here to ask for help...and I don't know how...but ..can you...can you help me?"

Leonardo raised a hand, stopping me. "What's this guy's name?"

"Alexander Skylord."

Leonardo's brow furrowed. "And so what you are asking from us is to help you find this Skylord, and rescue your daughter, and make sure he doesn't stop you from writing your book, right?"

I pressed my fingers to my mouth. I knew it was too much to ask of total strangers. My tears spilled over. "I don't know where else to turn..."

Leonardo motioned with his head, the others stood. I felt Michaelangelo's hand briefly touch my shoulder, as though comforting me. They moved upstream a few paces to confer quietly. I looked the other way. I could almost feel Raphael's resistance. Not more than minute must have passed, though it felt interminable. I shivered in the chill and wiped my eyes, trying not to think what I would do if they refused. I've given this my best shot, I told myself. I've done what I was told. This was it.

They waded back and stood in front of me.

"We will help you," said Leonardo.