Touko kept her eyes firmly shut as blessed paper closed around her body like a cocoon. The feel of the paper against her skin made her vaguely nauseated. She tried to focus past her shock at what was happening and heard wings beating somewhere nearby.
A moment after she identified the sound, it stopped. There was silence all around. Touko was tempted to open her eyes, but she didn’t. What if she opened her eyes and still couldn’t see anything?
Touko took a few deep breaths, preparing herself for the possibility that she was blind again. She couldn’t stay here forever as she was. She tried to take in her environment in other ways and smelled dust and metal, which told her she wasn’t at the cliff anymore. She was in a factory, maybe, or somewhere in the industrial area.
Carefully, a little at a time, Touko opened her eyes and looked around. The white paper covering her peeled away one sheet at a time and fell to the floor. When they touched the ground, the sheets of paper folded themselves into butterflies and then flew away.
Is this a dream? Touko thought. Am I dead? She clenched and unclenched her cold and trembling fingers. She remembered what had happened on the cliff, but she had no idea how or why she’d come to this place. Her straw sandals were soaked with rainwater and covered in mud.
The paper butterflies fluttered around her—one, two, three, more: their numbers increased as more and more sheets of paper touched the floor. They moved like real insects did despite being made of paper. She’d never seen such elaborate paper creations before aside from Hibari’s spies.
“They’re beautiful,” Touko said, spinning around to take in all the butterflies. “But I always thought blessed paper was for writing…”
“My sister taught me this,” Hibari said. “Princess Teyuri. A very long time ago.”
Touko looked up at two people facing each other on an iron elevated walkway in front of a factory. The walkway connected two buildings. One of the people—or rather, Guardian Gods—was Hibari. The other was the white-haired girl who had come to Touko on the cliff.
Hibari wore her hair up in two buns, one on each side of her head, in the traditional mizura style reserved for Guardian Gods. The white-haired girl’s hair was loose and flowing over her shoulders. Standing side-by-side with Hibari, the white-haired girl appeared very small. It was easy to see why Touko had mistaken her for Warashi at first. The white-haired girl was very thin and short.
If Touko didn’t know they were Guardian Gods, Touko might have thought that Hibari and the white-haired girl were wealthy children about to play tag on the iron walkway.
Hibari and the white-haired girl were high up, but Touko could hear what they were saying. Hibari was probably using the air to carry their voices to her.
“You still look like a child,” the white-haired girl said with some amusement. “Do the others tease you for it? You are one of the oldest of us that still remain.” She smiled.
“I apologize for appearing before you in such a state, elder sister. There is a human spying on me. My other form was discovered by stealth and trickery. That is why I am using this one.”
“Don’t disparage yourself so,” the white-haired girl said. “These forms are not shameful. They are an imitation of life, which is good.”
Hibari snorted. “And is that why you have selected a child’s form as well, Yururuhi?” she asked.
The paper butterflies rose in a cloud of paper, flying to Hibari. Their snow-white color reminded Touko of the paper mulberry trees that grew all around her village. She remembered the river turning the waterwheel and the freshly made paper drying on bamboo screens. This was blessed paper, used for writing down prayers to the Guardian Gods.
Yururuhi meant “flickering flame.” It was a name for the Millennium Comet. Was the white-haired girl the Millennium Comet?
Touko had been standing up for a long time, but the bite on her leg didn’t hurt. None of her injuries hurt. She remembered Akira’s injuries healing instantly when they’d first met Hibari outside the old tree where the capital’s Tree People lived. She hoped that Akira’s injuries weren’t too bad now.
Her eyes briefly lost focus. She worried about going blind again.
“Is the child well?” the Millennium Comet asked.
“Yes,” Hibari said. “Shall we take her to the shrine? She’s friends with some of the Fire Hunters who wish to hunt you, dear sister.”
The Millennium Comet tilted her head. “How strange. I have been gone for such a long time… since when do humans gather fuel for their fires from the monsters in the forest? And those Fire Hunters are targeting me like they would target a beast. That child must go to the shrine. There is a dog there waiting for her.”
“A dog?” Hibari appeared skeptical.
“Yes, a dog,” the Millennium Comet said. “Teyuri had a dog as well, En. Where is En now?”
Hibari said nothing.
I shouldn’t be here… Touko shivered. She was in the presence of two Guardian Gods who were talking past her. She should be back at the cliff with Kira. What had happened to Kira? She’d been taken away by a Guardian God! Kira’s mother had fallen off the cliff and into the canal. Touko had tried to reach out—to catch her—but she couldn’t reach, and then she’d been lifted away by the paper.
Hibari was an enemy—she’d harmed Akira before. She opposed what the Fire Hunters were doing. Touko had no idea if Akira was alive or dead.
“Aren’t you going to see Princess Teyuri?” Hibari asked the Millennium Comet. “She’s your older sister, after all.”
“I did see her. Why are the other Guardian Gods treating her so harshly?”
“I asked her if she wanted to run,” Hibari said. “I could take you and her out of here so fast—but she refuses to flee.” Her voice was tinged with sadness.
“I was born to bring comfort to the world,” the Millennium Comet said. “To bring solace to the ruined and fallen planet. I search for what beauty remains and share it with people. I seek out those in dire need who call for help. I was meant to be a star of salvation, but that is not what I am. I have watched over the planet from far above for all this time. Countless living beings have died before my eyes. Cities, forests, and farmland have all been destroyed, and I could do nothing. What was the purpose of all this destruction? Was it necessary? Why? I tried to help in vain. The destruction kept happening over and over again in many places, and all I could ever do was watch.”
“That’s not true,” Hibari said. “Your message was heard. You have saved many lives by communicating the danger to us before it was too late.”
The Millennium Comet shook her head. Her long white hair spilled over one shoulder. “The power of the Guardian Gods wanes. It does not extend into the forests and the wastes. Those few humans we managed to save long ago are now being burned to death…” She shuddered.
“I am sorry that you had to experience all of that loss and destruction alone,” Hibari said. Her expression became severe.
“The loss and destruction are what you should be sorry for,” the Millennium Comet said. “There is nothing to be done about my experiences.”
Silence fell. Touko’s heart beat loudly in her ears.
I have to find Kanata, Touko thought. I have to get to him right now. She couldn’t do anything about this situation on her own. If Kanata was with her, they might be able to save Kira. She had to tell Koushi what was going on.
She wanted to help Akira, too, but she had no idea how to do that.
“Everything will be all right now,” the Millennium Comet said. She sounded hopeful.
The Millennium Comet looked down at Touko with a slight smile. “So… what exactly are we going to do with this little human? I suppose she must go to the dog…”
Touko gulped. If going to the dog meant that she’d see Kanata, that was a good thing. She got the sense that if she made one wrong move here, she’d be in serious trouble.
“And what will happen to that other girl? The one by the cliff?” Hibari asked.
“She was taken to the shrine,” the Millennium Comet said. “She has nothing to do with this—not really. It would be best to send her home as quickly as we can.”
Hibari shook her head. “Not going to happen. The other Guardian Gods are going to use her for their own ends, and that involves you, sister. The other Guardian Gods decided long ago that you would succeed Teyuri. They’ll use that girl’s body to bind you here and do what they want.”
The Millennium Comet lowered her head. Her eyes expressed sorrow and concern. “I guess they think there’s no other way. But I can’t possibly succeed Teyuri. It’s not what I was made for. I’m a creation of the old world. Ancient fire is sealed within me. I have no place in this new world.”
“The Guardian Gods use fire as a means of control,” Hibari said. “They don’t care what Teyuri wants. They won’t care what you want, either. No one shares Teyuri’s burdens; she bears them for everyone. That’s why I thought it would be good for you to return and wreak havoc and destruction on all of them. Teyuri alone bears the cost of our power, so that we can continue to rule over humans. This system is not sustainable. It must end.”
There was a silence. Then the Millennium Comet looked up. “We should hurry to the shrine,” she said. “You look pale—is it because you saw blood? Everything was covered in blood, when the world broke in pieces long ago…”
Hibari didn’t reply in words. The wind blew, carrying away the Guardian Gods. They vanished in moments, so thoroughly that it was like they’d never been there.
Touko let out a long breath. Her throat was tight and painful, but she could breathe. She spent a moment grounding herself in her own body. Everything she’d heard and seen seemed so unreal.
The factory buildings around Touko loomed like complex living creatures, but none of them were operational. The rain had stopped, leaving the industrial area feeling cold and desolate. There were no stars in the sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen. The darkness blurred Touko’s vision, but she could see. She hoped that dawn wasn’t too far away.
Touko stood up straighter. The Guardian Gods were gone. She wasn’t afraid—not anymore—but she was very confused and anxious. She had to get to Kanata and Kun. And Koushi, and Akira, and Kira… She had so much to do and so many people to find. But she didn’t know how to do anything or find anyone. She wasn’t even completely sure of where she was right now. She was impatient with herself.
Taking deep breaths in and out, Touko tried to figure out precisely where she was. She saw iron towers, smokestacks, and massive metal arms with chains at their tips crowding the air overhead. She’d never been here before—and that meant she didn’t know which way to go.
I really do have a bad memory, she thought, recalling something Shouzou had said to her. Back when she’d worked on the black carts, Kanata had remembered the way from place to place for her. Now she had to find Kanata, but she was all on her own.
I’m hungry, she thought. She was irritated with hunger for being a problem right now. She didn’t have time for it. She had some food in her pocket, but she was supposed to share it with Kanata and Kun.
Touko stumbled forward a few steps. There was no one around. No one was here. Had the fire that the Spiders had set gone out? Touko closed her eyes and listened carefully, hoping for some sound to guide her.
Instead of a sound, she smelled blood. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Goosebumps rose on her arms. The smell was strong and cloying. It drifted toward her from one of the factory buildings.
It occurred to Touko that she should run. But running when she didn’t know where she was would be a terrible idea. She staggered toward the stench of blood one slow step at a time.
There was a scrabbling sound like a panicked animal running. She heard a groan that could have been a person’s or a beast’s.
She walked for awhile, then started running when she felt steadier on her feet. Her shoes were in bad repair and her feet felt clumsy, so she couldn’t run fast. Tiny flashes of light distracted her as she moved. She didn’t pause to look at the light or anything she passed. Movement felt like the right thing to do. All she had to do was keep going.
The industrial area was a twisted mass of metal and wire. The scent of blood was growing stronger as she ran. She was covered in Shuyu’s blood when he died. The raw memory overwhelmed her for a moment, but she kept running.
A sharp clattering sound made Touko pause. The iron manhole cover over a narrow canal caught on Touko’s straw sandals and lifted free. Rain had filled the canal to the brim. Water spilled over the cover onto the path.
Touko retrieved her sandal, then turned right down the next empty passage. A building of astonishing size blocked her view. This must be a factory, but it was bigger than any other factory she’d seen. The dull gray building had been built up and outward; from a little distance away, it looked like several buildings all crammed together.
A gleaming black machine stood atop the roof of the huge factory. It was made of metal, but not the same metal as the factory building. Touko had no idea what the machine was. The shape of it reminded her of a pillar laid on its side. It shone brightly in the rain like something new and clean.
The black machine was pointed to the sky. Metal signboards were attached to the exterior walls of the factories. Touko didn’t know what the numbers and symbols meant, but she could read the word “steel.” Was this a steelworks?
Touko was right on top of the smell of blood now.
A black horse stood outside the huge factory. The poor animal was utterly exhausted, its head hanging low as it weakly scraped at the pavement with its hooves. It had been left to stand in the rain.
The horse pressed its body tightly against the factory wall in a feeble attempt to shield itself from the weather, but there was no roof overhead. The horse was drenched and tired enough to collapse. Water pooled around the horse’s hooves. It looked like the horse was standing in a deep pool made of shadows.
Touko covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her shirt. The pool at the horse’s feet was made of blood, not water.
The horse wasn’t bleeding. The blood was leaking out from underneath a manhole cover on the street.
The tethered horse hung its head over a pool of blood.
Touko blinked several times to make sure that what she was seeing was real. There were no other people around to confirm what she was witnessing. She sprinted over to the tied-up horse, intending to free it. It wasn’t safe for the horse here. It wouldn’t be right to leave it standing here to starve or be killed in a battle.
The horse reared up in fear as Touko approached. Its bloodshot eyes rolled back in its head. Touko ducked to avoid being kicked by the panicked animal. Saliva hung like ropes from the horse’s wide-open mouth. The veins of its neck bulged as the horse flailed wildly out of control.
“Don’t panic. I’ll set you free now,” Touko said. She didn’t know if the horse could understand her or not. “Who did this? Who could do something so cruel?”
The horse’s thrashing drowned out Touko’s voice. Dark red blood under its hooves splashed up with every step.
Whose blood is this? Touko wondered. But she didn’t really want to know.
A double-wide door leading into the huge factory was propped open. Blood gushed out from inside. Were there injured people in there? Touko swallowed heavily. That much blood wasn’t normal for ordinary injuries.
She couldn’t free the horse without it harming her, so she investigated the door leading into the factory. It was pitch black beyond the door. Light rain made pitter-patter sounds on the metal roof.
But it wasn’t rain, because it wasn’t raining outside.
The remnants of Hibari’s paper spies littered the room all around her. They were all wet and bloody. She remembered that the paper spies became powerless when blood touched them.
Touko gasped and spun around, pressing her back against the wall by the entrance. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the sight of the blood falling like rain all around her.
Hibari had attacked this place with her spies. The Guardian Gods—or the Spiders? Someone else?—had fought back by making it rain blood.
Touko’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. She felt cold through.
Akira… if Miss Akira were here, she would look for any survivors…
She tried to steady her breathing. There might be people inside the building who needed help. Or she might find people who were dead. Either way, Akira would look. Touko braced herself and entered the building.
There was no movement around her. The smell of blood made her nose itch. The blood dripping from the ceiling numbed her nerves.
In the back of the building, she found a large horse suspended from several chains. The horse was dead. It hung from the chains like a broken or discarded piece of machinery.
A large funnel hung from the horse’s nose. A narrow tube was attached to the end of the funnel. It snaked across the floor and disappeared deeper into the building.
The blood raining down on Touko now had been exsanguinated from that horse.
Touko turned her face away and fled. She couldn’t be brave like Akira. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the pavement. She crouched and focused on her breathing so that she wouldn’t pass out.
The horse tied up outside the building would be next in line to have its blood drained.
Several sets of bloody footprints led from the factory to somewhere else in the industrial area. Someone had left the building wearing blood-stained shoes. The prints were fading as the rainwater washed them away. Touko tried to follow the footsteps with her eyes.
Touko was distracted by a hideous roar in the distance. It was not the sound of thunder. The sky remained dark, but it wasn’t storming. Now that the city’s factory machinery had stopped, she could hear the cracking sound clearly. It was like the sound of wood being split with an axe, only many times louder.
A distorted scream cut through the air.
The panicked horse outside the factory went quiet. It was as if its terror had surpassed its physical limits. Touko rushed over, desperate for the company of another living being in this place even if the horse’s company left a lot to be desired at the moment.
Touko didn’t know when the would start kicking and thrashing again. She quickly unfastened the metal fittings that connected the bit in the horse’s mouth to the iron ring embedded in the factory wall. Freed from its restraint, the horse stretched out its drooping neck and shuddered. It ran away from Touko without giving her so much as a backward glance.
The horse escaped from its terrible fate, weaving in between buildings until it was lost to view.
Touko heard another scream and turned her attention back to the footprints she’d seen. The footprints were stained red. She looked up. It was nearly dawn.
A deep, rumbling tremor shook the ground. The dragon that had attacked the black cart—or another creature resembling it—must be somewhere nearby. Touko could feel its menacing presence and froze.
“Touko, if anything dangerous happens… call out to Kanata.” Kaho had told Touko that.
Touko grasped her copy of Akira’s petition to the Guardian Gods, being careful not to crush it.
I have to help them, Touko thought. Akira and Kun and Hinako and… and everybody. She said a silent prayer of thanks and grief to the Fire Hunter who had saved her life. She wasn’t calling on Kanata to save her own life—not this time. This time, she wanted to save others.
“Kanata!” Touko cried out into the predawn world.
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