Listen to this chapter!
After the earth stopped shaking, it was quiet. Touko felt herself being lifted up, and when she opened her eyes, she was lying on a rice mat indoors. The scent of incense permeated the air, intermingled with a great deal of sweat. She wondered who else was here. One of the children? The girl in the red robe that she’d seen lying dead in the courtyard?
Touko had no idea; she was just speculating. She remembered the earthquake, but not being saved from it. How much time had passed?
It was so quiet. It felt like nighttime, when people closed their doors, put out the lights and slept. She would get up when it was morning. Then she would give her grandmother a massage to help with her inflamed joints, have breakfast and head out to the fields to work. But morning still seemed far off, so she stayed still.
Some time later, Touko felt Kanata bite her sleeve and pull gently so that he wouldn’t rip it. He’d found Touko here, wherever here was.
Kanata, you’ll get in trouble if you move away from the door, Touko thought. Auntie and Rin want you to stay on the dirt floor. You can’t come on the wooden floor or you’ll be scolded.
She felt so much like she was at home in her village that she could smell it: the old swept floor, the shining pots and pans, the long grass and the paper mulberry trees. But all of that was only in her memory. She was inside, but she wasn’t in her village.
Maybe she was dead? That pillar of fire should have killed her. She felt dazed, but maybe that was normal when someone died. She was so tired. She wanted to sleep for a little longer, but it was also getting more difficult to breathe. She opened her mouth wider and inhaled dirt for her trouble. She spat it out.
Kanata? Where are you?
She had sensed him before, but he seemed to be gone now. She opened her eyes to utter darkness. Kanata was nowhere to be seen. She took another breath and coughed when dirt and dust went down her throat along with the air. She curled into herself and nearly threw up. Tears coursed down her cheeks.
She was so thirsty that she was surprised that she could cry at all.
Where am I? Touko thought. Just a moment ago, she’d been standing just outside the Guardian Gods’ shrine. One of Hibari’s spies had abducted her, and then the earthquake had happened. She had come to lying on a rice mat in a place that smelled like incense, but when she’d finally opened her eyes, all of that had vanished. She was underground now. Buried alive? Maybe. Had the same thing happened to Akira and the others?
“You and the dog should move,” Hibari said from far above. Her voice was powerful and commanding.
Touko’s heart leaped to her throat. She didn’t know where she was supposed to move to. This place was so dark. She tested her limb movements uncomfortably and found the handle of the sickle with her knee. The sickle was the same one she’d used to cut down the Fallen Beast. Dried lightning fuel clung to the crescent-shaped blade. She gripped the sickle’s handle with both hands.
She reached one hand behind her and found Kanata. The dog whimpered, but he was alive.
“That is like a newly forged sickle,” Hibari said. “It looks like Princess Tokohana just finished tempering it.”
Hibari’s outline was scarcely visible in the dark. Her hair was up in two buns set to either side of her head in the traditional mizura style. Touko put herself between Hibari and Kanata so that the Guardian God couldn’t harm the dog.
Touko looked around, searching for Akira, Koushi and the others. She saw no one but herself, Kanata and Hibari. She sat up, feeling dirt fall out of her hair and the folds of her shirt. Her whole body ached, and her senses felt dull. She could still move; nothing appeared to be broken. She remembered that Kaho had once broken her leg when she was caught in a mine collapse as a child.
“Where are we?” she asked. She was definitely underground, but she hadn’t been buried alive. There was a room around her. The ceiling was so high that it vanished into gloom. Tree branches broke through the walls and floor in odd places. The air smelled like mud and water. She didn’t think that she was in the Black Forest; the smells were wrong for that.
Clutching the handle of her borrowed sickle tightly, Touko got to her feet. There was a light source somewhere, dim but constant. She saw the branches and leaves of beech trees, mountain cherry trees, cedars, and camphor trees. Fast-growing bamboo and silvery pampas grass interwove between the tree branches. There was no wind. Everything was perfectly still.
This place reminded Touko a bit of the Well of the Old Tree, where the capital’s Tree People used to live. It was like an enclosed garden.
Hibari sat on the edge of a metal bed in a corner of the space, tapping one foot with impatience. She held a folded silk kimono and a belt in her lap. It was difficult to distinguish the color of the clothes, but the sheen and quality of the fabric were far superior to the wedding garb worn in Touko’s village and elsewhere.
The sickle that Touko held felt very heavy. She was tempted to set it down, but she didn’t dare. The lightning fuel clinging to the dirty blade was her light source: it burned with an inner glow, though the sickle was undamaged.
Touko strained her eyes so that she could get a better look at Hibari. A sound like a gasp of fear escaped her lips. She didn’t speak.
There were more metal beds lined up next to the one Hibari sat on. Tree roots had snarled around some of the bed frames, holding them to the ground. The beds weren’t empty. People lay stretched out on them, sweating and groaning. Their faces were obscured by thin cloth. Plants sprouted from their torsos. Some of them looked like gardens unto themselves; soil spread over their chests and plants rose above their heads. Their bodies were wrapped in cloth-of-gold or cloth-of-silver. The metallic threads in the fabric shone faintly.
Touko wasn’t sure if what she was seeing was real. Her eyes seemed to be playing tricks on her. She blinked several times, but the scene before her didn’t change at all. Her breathing sped up, and black spots spread across her vision.
“The Earth Clan triggered another landslide,” Hibari said. “Even if the dog guides you, you won’t be able to get out of here without help. Do as I say.”
Touko was on the verge of panic. Akira, Koushi and Hinako were gone. Only Touko and Kanata were here—trapped with Hibari. But why had Touko been kidnapped in the first place? Why her, and not someone else? She looked around for Warashi, but the Guardian God wasn’t here, either. She would have to face Hibari with only Kanata as support.
“Where is everyone else?” Touko asked. “Where did Akira and Koushi go?” Touko had so many questions. Where was the exit? What had happened to Kira and the Millennium Comet?
Hibari didn’t answer. She stood up from the bed. There was another person on the bed she’d been sitting on. The person’s chest was exposed. There was a chocolate vine growing out of it.
How many beds were there in here? Touko quickly lost count; there were too many, and she couldn’t even see the whole room in the low light. “How are they alive?” Those words slipped out. Touko didn’t really expect an answer. She sank her fingers into the fur around Kanata’s neck and breathed.
Kanata shook his head once and flicked his ears.
Hibari faced the far end of the room. Her outline glowed, shedding more light.
Touko felt bare earth under her sandaled feet. The packed soil that the floor was made from was a bit wet, but not muddy. Perhaps the recent heavy rain in the capital had caused that. She might be inside the shrine—or underneath it.
“Come this way,” Hibari said. She walked away swiftly.
Touko hurried after Hibari. A pillar of light shone near the center of the room. Touko couldn’t tell whether it was made of wood, stone, or metal.
Where is the exit? she thought. I have to get out of here. I have to go look for everyone.
Touko reached the shining pillar, but she could go no further. Hibari had stopped in front of her, blocking her path.
“They’re dreaming,” Hibari said. She walked between two metal beds.
“Dreaming?” Touko echoed like a parrot. There were tubes underneath the bed. The tubes twisted across the floor like tree roots. Those tubes all connected to the shining pillar.
“These people dream of having their bodies split open. They dream of becoming one with natural things. They think that they are becoming wood, water, or stone. They dream of being part of this planet as it was before it was covered by the Black Forest.” Hibari spoke quietly, as if she didn’t want to wake the dreaming people.
Touko kept one hand in Kanata’s fur to steady herself. There were branches and leaves overhead here, too, but no sunlight or wind. No birds, either. Nothing moved in this room.
Hibari focused her attention on Touko. Her white robes were stained with mud and blood, but her skin shone with vitality. “All of them—everyone here—they’re cowards,” Hibari said. “The Guardian Gods were unable to prevent the fall of the old world, and they could not restore the world to what it had been. Some of them chose to sleep. They do not age or die, but remain in dreams of the old world. The Guardian Gods who remain awake are the ones who govern. We are granted strength from more powerful Guardian Gods in exchange for our service. One of our tasks is protecting Princess Tayura. She is the pillar of our current world, like that pillar of light that you see.”
Touko didn’t know if Hibari was telling her the truth. She was fairly sure that they weren’t in the Black Forest, though. The plants around them were all alive, and there was no scent of decay. Maybe the sleepers really were dreaming of a better world.
Hibari walked toward the shining pillar. Touko followed her. She was afraid that she’d lose track of Hibari and get stuck down here. Kanata pressed himself briefly into her side to reassure her that he was still there.
“The Millennium Comet’s presence has caused more instability than we expected,” Hibari said. “That is why Princess Tayura wishes to see you.”
The shining pillar reminded Touko of Koushi’s bottle of lightning fuel. The quality of the light shining from it was the same, although the pillar was much bigger. A dull gray substance like rust covered the pillar, which was otherwise clear as glass. Was there lightning fuel inside the pillar? She wasn’t sure. The light that the pillar created was silvery, not golden. The floor around the pillar sloped gently downward, forming a pool of water. The water reflected the light coming off of the pillar.
“Wash yourself and then change into these clothes,” Hibari said. She held out the clothes she had brought.
Touko hesitated.
A gleaming fish jumped out of the water and then sank beneath the surface again. It was the same kind of fish that Touko had seen in the underground river that she, Koushi and Kira had traveled alongside a day or so ago.
Metal tubes like gleaming tree roots fed into the pillar, stretching from it to the beds where the people lay dreaming.
“Princess Tayura has never seen the outside world with her own eyes since taking up her duties,” Hibari said. “She said that she wanted to see it—to know it better. Without understanding the world, she will not know what words would comfort the Millennium Comet. That’s why I brought you here.”
Touko sucked in a breath.
Kanata nosed her palm so that Touko would know he was still there.
“That’s so selfish,” Touko said. “How could you do such a thing?” She wanted to yell at Hibari, but even thinking of doing that made her head pound with pain. Recent events flashed chaotically through her mind: the pillar of fire, the Guardian God burning, insects crisping and falling, the Fallen Beast, the hoarse cries of the dying. “If you want Princess Tayura to understand the world as it is, you should kill me. Kill me and show her my body. She’ll understand then, won’t she?”
Hibari looked down her nose at Touko. Touko’s words had no effect on her whatsoever.
Touko opened her mouth to speak again, but no words came out. She shook uncontrollably. She was crying out of fear. She tried to stop crying and shaking, but she failed. Her hands tightened around the handle of her borrowed sickle.
If Touko couldn’t escape from Hibari, maybe Kanata could. She had to tell Kanata to leave this place and find Koushi and Hinako.
I’m sorry. Kaho, I’m sorry. I promised, but I can’t come home. I can’t go home to my village, either. Sorry, auntie.
Touko pushed Kanata back with her shin.
Hibari’s thin eyebrows drew together in a severe frown. “I did not tell you to speak. Someone of your status has no right to use one of Princess Tokohana’s sickles.”
“P-paper…” A choking sob escaped from Touko’s throat. “You use paper. From my village. To kill people.”
Hibari’s eyes widened slightly.
The sickle in Touko’s hands wasn’t her own, but Hibari had no right to tell her not to use it. Roroku had carried a sickle—he’d fought with one—and he’d still died. Mizore’s master was dead, just like Kanata’s. Had Koushi and Hinako witnessed that? How awful.
Touko was furious. She’d been forcibly separated from her friends. She had no idea where they were or if they were even still alive. She hated Hibari for exploiting the paper made by the people in her village for nefarious ends. It was so difficult to make that paper! The fibers used to create it needed to soak in freezing cold river water in the dead of winter. The craftsmen poured their heart and soul into making each piece of paper… and the Guardian Gods stained that paper with blood and discarded it like trash.
Hibari grabbed Touko’s arm. “I will only say this one more time: be silent and obey. If you argue or try to slow us down, I’ll kill the dog.” She pulled a pure white piece of blessed paper from her sleeve.
Touko placed her borrowed sickle in front of her body and braced her knees. “Kanata, run!” she cried out.
Kanata didn’t run. He stayed by her side and bared his fangs at Hibari.
Hibari folded the piece of paper into a new shape with nimble fingers. Before she could finish creating a spy, she froze. Then she crushed the folded paper in her hand with a murderous scowl.
Touko didn’t understand why Hibari had changed her mind.
Hibari grunted in pain, and then spun toward the pillar. A white moth flew off of her shoulder as she moved.
Hibari’s eyes narrowed. “Spiders…”
The moth had found some way to bite her. Touko remembered Kun’s messenger insect stinging Hibana and gasped in alarm. She’d been stung by insects before, of course, but being stung by a messenger insect was different. Insects empowered by Spiders had much more powerful venom. [T/N: Real moths don’t produce venom by biting. They have venomous spines that come into contact with fur or skin. Most moths don’t even have mouths in the way we think of them; they have proboscises. Try to imagine venom sacs on a moth—where would they even fit? It’s impossible. Vampire moths can draw blood, but they aren’t poisonous or venomous. The author wanted Hibari to bleed and be poisoned, though, so the moth here acts more like a snake.]
Hibari vanished into thin air, leaving only her robes and belt behind. The moth that had bitten her flew away. Kanata followed the moth for a few paces and sniffed the air.
Touko collapsed in a heap. There was no strength left in her legs.
A gleaming fish was swimming inside the silvery pillar. She only saw it for a moment. She wasn’t sure if the fish had swum away or if its body had dissolved inside the pillar.
“Touko!”
Touko’s eyes darted in all directions. Her ears were ringing. Her vision grew slightly brighter. Kanata lifted his head high.
From the other side of the room lined with beds, Koushi appeared. He carried Hinako on his back and held his jar of lightning fuel aloft as a lantern. The light was soft, like moonlight shining through trees.
Was it an illusion? Was Touko dreaming?
Kanata wagged his tail as Koushi and Hinako came closer.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” Koushi said. “I didn’t think we’d ever find you.”
“Where are we?” Touko asked.
Koushi bent forward and patted Kanata on his head. Kanata wiggled in happiness, and his tail sped up.
Touko finally let go of her borrowed sickle. She was safe for the moment.
“Are you hurt? Kun sent out his messenger insect, so we thought you’d be here.”
The white moth landed on Hinako’s head. Kun had found Touko through the eyes of this messenger insect.
Koushi looked around, taking in the surreal scene of the room and the silver fish in the pillar. Koushi had looked afraid when he’d first entered the room, but he seemed a bit more confident now. The sight of countless Guardian Gods lying down, their bodies filled with plants and water and stone, made him shudder. He was disgusted, but he kept staring. He wanted to understand what was happening. His face was bruised, and those bruises were darkening on his chin and cheeks.
Touko stood up on wobbly knees. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Where are Akira and Kun?”
“We’re all safe. But what about you, Touko? Are you all right? How did you get here?”
“Um, that Guardian God… She was just here a moment ago. She got bitten by Kun’s messenger insect, and then she disappeared.”
Koushi’s shoulders tensed. Hinako slid off his back. She was as unsteady on her feet as Touko felt, but she didn’t fall.
“Hinako?” Touko asked. She moved to help support the young girl. Touko had seen her act with superhuman strength before. It was so odd to see her weak and sick like this after witnessing that.
Hinako clung to Touko’s shoulder, breathing heavily. “Touko,” she choked out. The moth was still on her head. Its wings fluttered wildly as if it were in distress.
Koushi nodded a little to himself. “Anyway, we’re all alive, at least. I told Hinako to stay put because she has a fever, but she insisted on coming with me to look for you and Kanata. Good thing we found you quickly.”
Hinako reached out to pet Kanata. Kanata shifted closer to her, still wagging his tail. Touko helped Hinako stay standing.
“Akira is somewhere close, but she’s in another room,” Koushi said. “I think we’re underneath the shrine. The real shrine isn’t the tower, but somewhere inside the cliff itself.”
“How do you know?” Touko asked.
“A Guardian God named Rurimatsuri saved us. She’s the one who created the Tree People. Kiri’s with Akira now. Anyway, Rurimatsuri told us.”
“What?” Touko asked. “What about the other Tree People?” The last time she’d seen Willow, the tall, slender Tree Person hadn’t been breathing. Kunugi had been clinging to the side of the cliff that the shrine rested on. The living tree that Willow had supported with her neck and other limbs, even in death, had a gaping wound where someone had cut it. Were the Guardian Gods responsible for harming that tree?
“I don’t know. Kiri’s the only one who’s with us now,” Koushi said.
“Rurimatsuri… does she have a tattoo on her face? One of blue flowers?” Touko asked.
Koushi raised an eyebrow. “You know her?”
Touko nodded. Tears were drying on her face. “You’re walking,” she said. “Does your leg still hurt?”
Koushi didn’t answer. He kept looking around the room. “That’s fire,” Koushi said, pointing to the pillar.
Touko frowned. The pillar wasn’t the right color or shape to be fire, and it was fully contained. She’d thought that there was lightning fuel inside it at first, though. Maybe that was what Koushi meant? Touko knew of no luminous liquids except for fire fuel and lightning fuel.
A silver fish jumped above the surface of the pool around the pillar and then sank down again.
“Isn’t that fish like the ones we saw in the underground river?” Koushi asked. He wasn’t looking at Touko. It was more like he was talking to himself.
Touko was strangely calm. A few days ago, being trapped underground in a strange place would have rendered her insensate from fear. But she had experienced too much terror and death now for it to render her helpless. She wasn’t sure she could feel fear properly anymore.
“Koushi,” Hinako called out to her brother. The moth on her head shifted its position slightly.
“We need to get out of here,” Koushi said. He gestured to Hinako, who tottered over to him and climbed on his back again.
There was still dirt in Touko’s mouth, rough against the inside of her cheek.
Kanata gave Touko a spirited snort of encouragement.
“We need to find Akira and the others,” Touko said.
Koushi nodded sharply, then turned on his heel. Touko followed him through the room of dreaming Guardian Gods. They came to a metal door and went through. Beyond the door, there was a low tunnel like a mine shaft. There were no struts or beams reinforcing the tunnel walls or ceiling. It might be unstable for all they knew, but there was no other way out of the room.
The tunnel continued straight ahead. It was unlit. Koushi carried his lightning fuel jar high.
“Akira should be this way,” Koushi said. “We didn’t see any Guardian Gods when we got down here.” He passed his bottle of lightning fuel to Touko. He’d been carrying Hinako for quite a while and he was getting tired.
Touko accepted the bottle of lightning fuel carefully and in silence. The liquid inside the bottle was warm, but not hot. A sense of dread struck her as she realized how much latent power she had in her hands. She had killed a Fallen Beast, and a Fallen Beast’s blood was lightning fuel. The lightning fuel in the Fallen Beast she’d cut down had spread out in the courtyard of the Guardian Gods’ shrine. All of that lightning fuel had gone to waste… she should have thought to collect it somehow. It was too late to do anything about that now.
“Koushi, did Akira deliver her petition?” Touko asked. She held the jar of lightning fuel above her head.
“Roroku handed it to someone that he thought was Princess Tayura at the entrance to the shrine,” Koushi said. “But that was just a shadow. I don’t know if the Guardian Gods read Akira’s petition or not.”
The darkness of the tunnel was overwhelming. Touko’s shaking hands made the quality of the light around them flicker.
“A shadow?” Touko asked.
Koushi nodded. He filled her in on what had happened since the last time they’d seen each other. He and Touko exchanged words slowly, stopping to confirm events several times. Koushi seemed lost in thought half the time. He repeated the same questions to Touko a few times.
Touko’s feet dragged as she walked. At this rate, the straw sandals that Kaho had given her would wear out soon. Kanata walked straight and steady beside her. She felt cold and clammy and ill at ease.
“Koushi, can we find Kira if we use Kun’s messenger insects?”
“Huh?” Koushi asked. “I mean, no. When the landslide happened, someone grabbed Kira’s leg. I think it was one of the Earth Clan Guardian Gods. Kun tried looking for her already, but there’s a room that his messenger insects can’t pass through. I think that’s where the real Princess Tayura is. Kira might be there, too.” His voice was low and hoarse from fatigue. “I tried to help Kira, but I couldn’t. Both of Kira’s parents fell from the cliff. Kira saw everything.”
Touko nodded sadly. “It doesn’t seem like it’s true. The last time we saw Kira’s mother before the shrine, she got stung by one of Kun’s insects and ran off.”
The pillar of fire. Insects burning alive. People asleep with plants growing out of them. All of this seemed unreal.
No wonder the Millennium Comet couldn’t bear it anymore, Touko thought. It must be like when the old world was dying. Maybe the Millennium Comet will choose to end our world, too, if it really is beyond saving. Is there anything that anyone can do?
Touko remembered the father and the son that she and the others had encountered in the underground passage. They’d chosen to die—to use fire to kill others—in the hope of salvation for themselves. The children she’d been left with when she was hurt—the ones who’d worked in the factories—had been mean or rude. One of the boys had felt the same way as the man and his son. There were so many lost and abandoned dogs in the industrial area now because so many Fire Hunters had died in battle.
Her breath caught in her throat as she choked back tears. She had so little strength left; she shouldn’t waste it on crying. But she couldn’t help it. She cried even though Akira would probably scold her when they found her.
“Touko?” Hinako asked. Koushi was carrying her on his back.
Touko found Hinako’s worried expression irritating. Perhaps the Millennium Comet really should destroy the world. If she didn’t, the Guardian Gods and the humans would just end up destroying themselves anyway. There was no point to prolonging the inevitable… but she also wanted to save everyone who could be saved. It couldn’t be too late for everyone. Maybe the world was doomed, but a few people might still be helped.
That would be a good thing to tell the Millennium Comet. She didn’t have any blessed paper to use to write a letter to the Guardian Gods, but she didn’t need that. The Millennium Comet had listened to her words before.
The red-robed girl that Touko had seen lying dead in the courtyard outside the shrine was a stand-in or substitute for Princess Tayura. The real Princess Tayura was hidden somewhere else. If Koushi was right, then Princess Tayura and the Millennium Comet were in the room that Kun’s insects couldn’t enter.
Kanata remained close to Touko as they walked, sharing his body heat and certainty with her. She was grateful for the dog’s presence.
“Koushi,” she said, “Thank you for keeping your promise. Thank you for staying alive.”
Koushi quickened his pace and said nothing in response. Touko knew that he’d heard her, though, and that was enough.
***
How long had they walked through the dark, narrow tunnels beneath the shrine? Koushi had no idea. He led the way through the dark. There were no landmarks in any of the passages to help them navigate. Unlike the underground passages in the industrial area, there were no signs or markers here. There were no lights, either, not even emergency lights.
Kanata barked softly. Koushi glanced at the dog. He was a little out of breath. Hinako was small and thin, but carrying her on his back for so long was taking a toll on him.
At the side of the passage, there was a metal door. Its surface was covered in a layer of dust and felt rough to the touch. The door itself was in good repair, though.
“Let’s go this way,” Koushi said. He opened the door with one hand. A bitter gust of air wafted out from inside. The smell reminded him of the Tree People. Oddly, the smell relaxed him. Fire Fiends hated that smell, so at least they should be safe from the monsters here.
Touko had frozen still.
Akira tugged on her arm and pulled her through the door.
Kanata wagged his tail and followed happily.
“Where have you been, idiot?” Akira asked. Her amber eyes pinned Touko in place.
“Miss Akira…”
Akira pulled Touko into a tight hug. She smelled like blood, but her hug was strong. Touko closed her eyes and leaned against Akira, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.
“I thought maybe it was already too late to find you,” Akira said. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” She stepped back from the hug and looked Touko up and down. “Are you hurt? What’s in your hand?” She found Touko’s borrowed sickle clutched tightly in one fist. “You shouldn’t be taking on Fallen Beasts at your age, y’know. It’s hazardous to your health.”
Akira took the sickle from Touko’s hand. Touko let it go easily. When it was finally out of her grasp, her whole body felt lighter.
Akira ran a cloth over the edge of the sickle’s blade to clean off the blood of the Fallen Beast. She let go of the cloth almost immediately and let it fall to the ground. The lightning fuel on the cloth ate through it, dissolving most of the material in seconds.
“Miss Akira, um…” There was so much that Touko wanted to say, but she didn’t know where to start. How was Akira so brave and calm in the face of so much death and violence? Usually, Akira appeared as tough and unbreakable as a thick wall, but now, the cracks were showing. Akira was nervous. She held herself together because she didn’t know how else to be—and because if she didn’t, she would fall apart entirely.
“I said I would go, but Hinako insisted that she would come to get you instead. She wouldn’t give in. She said she wanted to help you and Kanata,” Akira said. She patted Touko’s head, and then Hinako’s. She set down Touko’s borrowed sickle on a metal table that was in the rough center of the room.
The moth that had attacked Hibari before fluttered its wings and flew away. The moth was one of Kun’s messenger insects. It flew toward another door and was caught by Kiri in her tree branch arm. Her vivid jade green eyes glowed in the dark slightly.
“You tried to run out without even letting anyone treat your wounds. The kids you were with got worried,” Kiri said to Touko. “Good to see you’re still alive.” She brought the moth to her mouth and ate it. The branches on her tree arm swayed. Her other hand gripped several bloody rags. Touko realized that Kiri had been treating Akira’s wounds here.
Temari started barking noisily as she chased her own tail.
Touko bent down to pet Temari. She shushed the dog, hoping that the little white fluff ball would calm down.
Koushi sat on the floor, holding Hinako in his lap. Hinako curled up and took deep breaths. She was still feverish, but she tried to relax. This was the safest place she’d been for quite a while.
“I told you, didn’t I? Touko is strong,” Akira said. She gave Kiri a strained smile.
Mizore was in the room as well, though she stayed apart from the others. There were metal tables and beds scattered all over the room, but there were no Guardian Gods here. The tables and beds were bare. There were pillars and tubes here, too, though none of them glowed silver.
Every large tube that Touko saw lined up along the walls had a sleeping Fire Fiend in it. Touko tensed as she saw this. There were deer, foxes, rabbits, monkeys, raccoons, cats, otters, bats, and animals that she couldn’t even identify. All of them were covered in dull black fur. None of them moved a muscle, and their red eyes were all closed. The tubes containing them weren’t much larger around than the bodies contained within them. They were full of a clear liquid that made the Fire Fiends float. They were all small—infant-sized. The Fire Fiends that Touko saw all looked like they’d recently been born.
Were these beasts going to be released so that Fire Hunters could harvest them? Why were they here?
Koushi draped his coat over Hinako’s shoulders. Hinako was more than half-asleep. Kanata rested his head lightly on Hinako’s chest and sighed in contentment.
“What are all these?” Touko asked, gesturing to the Fire Fiends in the tubes.
Kiri put her hands on her hips and snorted. She ran her human hand through her long hair. “More failed test subjects,” she said.
Touko paled. She remembered what Willow and Mukuge had told her a long time ago in the Well of the Old Tree.
The world died. All know this. The Guardian Gods sought to harness fire by placing it into the animals that survived this death. There are old myths of humans who were given the secret to fire by wild creatures—birds and deer, monkeys and tigers, even insects. So many stories. Most of them deal with the theft of fire. Fire is rarely freely given in these tales.
What the Guardian Gods did was reverse the events of these myths. Humans and Guardian Gods alike would combust in the presence of natural fire, after the world died. And so, the Guardian Gods performed a ritual to return natural fire to the wild creatures that humans supposedly stole it from. Natural fire would thus be contained, and the Guardian Gods would never seek to approach wild animals. The barriers would make sure that all within them would be safe.
“These Fire Fiends are like we are,” Kiri said. “The Guardian Gods performed experiments on them. As soon as they had working test subjects, they abandoned the failures here.”
Bugs crawled around on the dirt floor of the room.
“The Guardian Gods who were in the shrine up above were wounded or killed by the lightning fuel strikes,” Kiri said. “But that doesn’t really matter. The Guardian Gods who are truly powerful have always lived underground. The Millennium Comet is likely close.” Her gaze fixed on Koushi. “Mole. I got here the same way you did, I expect. There was a landslide. Many Guardian Gods fled, and I was swept along with them. One of the Guardian Gods cut the living tree, and another—Rurimatsuri—revived it. I don’t remember much, but when I came to, I was healed.”
“What about Willow?” Touko asked. “What happened to her?”
“Dead,” Kiri said flatly. “She supported the living tree as best she could, but it wasn’t enough.”
Touko closed her eyes. The image of Willow laying dead in the road with Hinako’s sickle next to her would not leave her mind.
“And Kunugi? Has he moved?” Touko asked. Kunugi had been standing against the cliff the last time she’d seen him. He might have gotten too close to the pillar of fire and burned. Or the landslide might have swept him away.
“How would I know?” Kiri asked. Her forehead crinkled in a frown. “He’s probably still down there below the cliff. Maybe he’s still making graves for the Spiders. Willow needs a grave now, too. I don’t know how the damage to the living tree affected him, though. Anything could have happened to him.” She shrugged.
“I don’t get what Rurimatsuri is doing,” Akira said. She tapped one foot impatiently. “She told me, ‘If something is doomed to perish, let it perish,’ but she healed Kiri’s wounds and helped us escape to this place.”
Mizore sat down next to Koushi. She was close to him, but not quite close enough to touch. The slender hunting dog narrowed her eyes and hung her head. There was a red wound below her sole eye.
Like Kanata, this dog had also lost her Fire Hunter. Back then, Kanata had carried the sickle in his mouth and brought it to Touko. Mizore had nothing from her Fire Hunter to carry.
“Are you sure you’re all right? Come over here and show me,” Kiri said to Touko.
“Where is Kun?” Touko asked.
Akira shrugged. “He’s close, but he won’t come out. I told him to tell us if he’s hurt, but when I reach out or try to get him to come closer, he gets mad. Not even Temari can get close. Seeing all the Spiders dead really upset him. Understandably so.”
Kun had seen his own father die. He’d seen the pillar of fire destroying all the insects and his father’s body.
Touko followed Akira’s gaze. Kun was hiding somewhere in the room, but all the tubes and infant Fire Fiends made it difficult to find him. She had no idea where the little Spider boy was.
“Kun?” Touko called out.
A clattering sound was the only answer she got. It came from between two larger tubes.
Touko crawled across the floor until she reached the tubes. She found Kun curled up small and leaning against one of the tubes. He didn’t move even when he saw Touko. He scrunched up and made himself even smaller.
As Touko reached out to touch Kun’s back, her shoulder bumped one of the tubes. Kun stared at his knees, his eyes wide open. He still carried the bottle of special insects that Koushi had told him to find. There was something else in his hands that Touko couldn’t quite identify. It was dark and shed light.
“I’m not leaving it behind,” Kun said. He sounded even younger than usual, high-pitched and petulant. “This is my dad’s. I had the bugs bring it here, but they couldn’t bring all of it.”
“Kun…”
Touko looked more closely at the object in Kun’s hands. It was crawling with insects, but had the general shape of a face.
It was a mask.
How had that mask survived the flames? The pillar of fire had consumed so much….
Touko understood why Kun wouldn’t leave that mask behind. It was the last thing he had of his father’s. He was trying to process his grief. His family was dead, and there was so little left for him to cling to.
Touko didn’t know what to say. She sat in silence near Kun and didn’t move.
The clear tubes around them were polished to a mirror shine. Touko caught a glimpse of a face and thought that she was seeing Kun’s reflection, or her own. But the face she saw was different from Kun’s, and it definitely wasn’t hers. She frowned, staring intently at the face.
Is there a person in one of these tubes? Touko thought.
Touko crawled a little bit away from Kun.
“Is something wrong?” Akira asked.
Kiri frowned at Touko but didn’t speak.
“Can these tubes be moved?” Touko asked. “I think there’s a person inside one of them, but they’re hidden. They’re closer to the back.”
“Huh? There’s a person in one of these?” Akira asked.
The muscles around Kiri’s jaw clenched.
Koushi stood up. He set Hinako down gently on the floor and then reached for his bottle of lightning fuel. He came closer to Touko, illuminating all of the tubes he passed by.
Kanata’s scent and his nearness allowed Touko to remain calm.
Kun moved aside when Koushi came closer to him. His shoulders shook as he found a new place to curl up. He held the incomplete mask in front of him like a shield.
Then Koushi gasped.
Akira approached him, looking over his shoulder. “It’s a kid,” she said. “What the hell? Were they trying to put fire into humans at one point? That’s sick.”
Akira took the bottle of lightning fuel from Koushi. The liquid sloshed inside the bottle, making the light unsteady for a moment until it stabilized. The child stuck in the tube had their eyes closed. They had no hair: not even eyelashes. Their ears were smaller than Kun’s. They were in the fetal position, unmoving, just like the other infants entombed here.
Kiri bared her teeth. “Do you see any Tree People?” she asked apprehensively.
“Not so far,” Koushi said. “But look! I think something was implanted inside them.”
There was a large hole around the child’s navel: much larger than a belly button hole. Several of the infant Fire Fiends had similar holes in similar places. Akira brought the light closer to the child and noticed dark stones piled up inside the hole.
“This isn’t a human child,” Akira said. “It’s one of the Guardian Gods’ children.”
“A Guardian God’s child?” Kiri asked. “How can you be so sure? Why would a Guardian God sacrifice one of their own like this?”
“The Guardian Gods do experiment on themselves,” Koushi said. “When I went to look for Touko earlier, I found her in a room with dozens of Guardian Gods. They were all asleep, and they had different things growing out of their bodies. Most of the Guardian Gods are asleep in that room, dreaming of the world before it was destroyed. At least, that’s what Hibari told me. There was a tube in that room, too, though it was full of silver liquid and there were only fish in it that I could see.” He shrugged. “I think the Guardian Gods are hiding something. Maybe it has something to do with why they hate blood so much.”
Touko looked around at all the infant Fire Fiends. Their half-formed hooves were the color of amber. They hadn’t even been born. They had no idea where they were or why. Their parents might have walked in the old world, or they might have come about after that world’s destruction. They would never walk in the light.
Akira was looking around, too. Her expression became more and more severe. She shifted one tube to the side, revealing the shelf. The shelf held clear jars full of tiny fetuses. Only the object embedded in the umbilical area differed in each one. Akira took five jars off the shelf, one at a time, and set them on a metal table.
“I’ll ask again: what the hell is all this?”
Temari approached the table cautiously and sniffed. She whimpered and turned away.
Koushi examined the five jars next.
Touko stayed far away from the jars. She sat down next to Kanata and waited. If these fetuses were like the Guardian Gods she’d seen in the other room, then they were slated to sleep forever before they’d even been born. They were like babies whose parents had purposely blinded them because they would only ever work in the dark.
“Just like my grandma,” Touko said quietly.
Koushi looked over at her. Then he set his chin in his hand and returned his attention to the jars.
Hinako sighed. She hadn’t moved since Koushi had set her down. Touko went over to Koushi’s sister and gently rubbed her back. Kanata got up and then lay down next to Hinako.
“These all appear human to me,” Koushi said. “I think that Guardian Gods were once human, but they gained their powers due to specific, and successful, alterations to their bodies. Some ancestor of the Water Clan probably created the first Guardian God.”
Touko lowered her gaze to make sure Hinako was asleep. Hearing about more manipulations by the Water Clan might upset her.
Kiri looked at Koushi and Akira in disbelief. “What are we even doing?” she asked.
Koushi scratched the back of his head and looked down. “We’re trying to figure things out,” Koushi said. “When the old world was destroyed, a lot of knowledge was lost. The Guardian Gods’ experiments come from a place of ignorance. They’re trying to re-learn what was once known. They experiment on humans now because it’s easier than experimenting on themselves, but the more I see, the more I think that all Guardian Gods were once human. They’re not different from us in too many ways. They can bleed, and they can die.”
Koushi continued to speak with his head bowed. Touko didn’t catch most of what he said.
“That also explains why Guardian Gods combust like we do,” Koushi said. “If they were a different species than us, then they probably wouldn’t be affected by the pathogen. Guardian Gods are just humans who used the technology of the old world to alter their bodies.” He paced restlessly in front of the jars on the table. “Maybe that’s why they need to rule over humans. It’s how they sustain themselves and make new discoveries to keep themselves going.”
“I don’t understand,” Kiri said. “Why do the Guardian Gods need humans at all? Why aren’t all humans Guardian Gods? That would seem to be more useful, wouldn’t it? Ordinary humans are a burden. They make the Guardian Gods waste their powers and resources.”
Frustrated, Koushi grabbed his own hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “It might be difficult to create Guardian Gods, for all I know. And humans bring in fire fuel, which everyone needs. Humans need it for heat and light, but maybe the Guardian Gods need it for other reasons. I saw fish dissolving inside a pillar full of silver liquid. It seems reasonable to assume that the Guardian Gods need lives to fuel their powers and their long lifespans. I think those fish come from the factory area.”
Kun crawled out of his hidey-hole, holding the fragment of the black mask against his stomach. He peeked out at the jars of fetuses and then said, “My dad said that the Guardian Gods didn’t show their true selves to the world. That they just pretend to be gods and force humans to do as they please. He thought that was wrong. So do I.” He clung tightly to his father’s mask. There was no trace of agitation or sorrow in his voice. His memories of his father didn’t cause him pain—at least, not right now.
The insects clinging to the mask fell to the ground one by one. Kun sat down next to the metal table, holding the mask to his chest.
Kun’s father had said, They are not worthy of being called Guardian Gods. They are destined to fail and perish.
Touko kept her trembling hands on Hinako’s back.
Akira groaned and then rubbed her forehead. “This is all such a mess,” she said. “The true nature of the Guardian Gods doesn’t matter right now. We can’t leave things as they are.” Her expression was pinched and sorrowful. The sight of the fetuses and the infant Fire Fiends all around her depressed her mood. “This is awful. These creatures—and children—were manipulated before they were even born. Are the Guardian Gods so afraid of death that they make sacrifices like this?” She hung her head. “I wonder if Rurimatsuri brought us here because she wanted us to discover the Guardian Gods’ secrets.”
“I doubt it,” Kiri said. “She just finds you interesting. She brought us here to make it easier for her to keep and eye on us.” The tattoo on her cheek distorted when she frowned. “I suppose she’s gotten tired of the status quo. She always did get bored easily. Maybe she wants to see what humans will do once they know the truth.”
“We have to find the Millennium Comet and Princess Tayura,” Koushi said. “Kun’s messenger insects couldn’t find them, but there’s a room they couldn’t enter. We need to get there.”
Koushi looked back and forth between Mizore and Hinako as he spoke. He kept his face to the ground and his shoulders hunched. He appeared younger than usual. If his father were here, he might be braver.
Touko was overcome by a sense of urgency that she couldn’t suppress. “Hibari said that Princess Tayura doesn’t understand the outside world,” she said. The words fell from her lips in a chaotic jumble. “She doesn’t know what’s happening.”
Akira frowned, but she nodded. “So Hibari wanted you to explain things to Princess Tayura? At least that explains why she kidnapped you.”
Temari watched Akira’s face intently. Her tail wagged, but slowly. All of her slight movements stirred up dust and dirt.
Akira looked down at her hunting dog, crouched, and gently cupped Temari’s face in both hands. Temari made rumbling noises in appreciation. Akira gave her round head a gentle pat.
“I’ll go,” Akira said. Her usual strength and bravery fell on her like the cloak she wore. She was like Kanata, who ran into danger without any hesitation.
“Go?” Touko asked. Did that mean Akira was going to leave her behind again? She knew that she wouldn’t be able to help Akira, so there was no point in following her. Kun and Hinako were too weary, hurt or sick to move far. Someone needed to remain here and tend to them.
Akira nodded at Touko. “You all stay here. I’m going to end this once and for all. Touko, You may be young, but you tried very hard. I made it this far because of you. Don’t forget that.”
Touko looked away. Her toes were crusted in mud and filth. She felt as if her feet were made of clay. Like she couldn’t even trust them to hold her up.
Koushi started to say something, but a glance from Akira silenced him.
“I’ll watch over these guys,” Kiri said, turning to Akira.
Akira nodded at Kiri. “I’m counting on you. Do you know the way out?”
“Yeah. It’s easier to tell directions underground,” Kiri said.
Akira nodded again. She gave Kiri a dazzling smile, and then picked up Temari. Temari looked down at Mizore and barked once. The little dog snorted and pressed herself against Akira’s chest.
Mizore and Kanata followed Akira’s movements with their eyes. The two dogs didn’t move otherwise.
Akira opened the metal door and disappeared into the darkness. She hadn’t said goodbye to anyone.
Time passed. No one moved for a long while. With Akira gone, the place had the feel of an abandoned mausoleum. Touko couldn’t tell if it was day or night. She didn’t even know what day it was anymore. It was so hard to sense what time it was underground.
Kiri moved first. The branches in her arm rustled softly in the stillness. “Well, I guess it’s time for us to move, too,” she said. She bent down and placed one hand on Hinako’s forehead to take her temperature.
Hinako was wandering in a fever.
Kiri glanced over at Kun, who was hiding among the rows of tubes again.
“I’ll watch over the young ones,” Kiri said. “You two should go. Don’t you have business with Princess Tayura and the Millennium Comet?” she asked Touko and Koushi. Her vivid green eyes lingered on the dogs.
“B-but…” Touko stammered.
Kiri ignored her. “Mole, how long do you plan to keep brooding? You’re using your head all wrong, you know.” She reached out and tapped him on the forehead with one gray finger.
Koushi’s eyes widened in surprise.
Kiri gave him one of her patented displeased glares. “You’ve come all this way, and you’re just going to leave the rest to the Fire Hunter? You know that Akira will die if that’s what she thinks she has to do. She and the Millennium Comet have that in common.” She tried to fold her arms and was only moderately successful. “Rurimatsuri told me that she fled from the capital once. She was ambushed by Fire Fiends in the Black Forest, and a Fire Hunter saved her. But she was betrayed, and the Fire Hunter who had helped her turned on her and tried to kill her. At that moment, the betrayer was attacked and killed by a Fire Fiend.”
Kiri’s words twisted into Touko’s mind like the roots of a tree. She remembered how the forest had come to life around Rurimatsuri. She’d felt the Black Forest watching her as Rurimatsuri had spoken with the forest’s voice.
“The first Fire Fiend Rurimatsuri ever harvested was the one who saved her life,” Kiri said. “The Wood Clan is one of the oldest, so that story dates back to the capital’s founding. I’m not sure why she told me that story. She’s unusually capricious, even for a Guardian God.” Kiri’s voice went lower and softer as she spoke. To Touko, it sounded like she was hiding something.
“Think about it,” Kiri said. “Even that old man who looks like a skeleton is trying to be useful.”
Kiri glared at Koushi again, and Koushi bit his lip.
Mizore suddenly stood up and ran to the door that Akira had gone through. Sniffing at the gap, Mizore scratched at the door with her front paws. She was smart enough to know that the door wouldn’t open that way, but she kept scratching at it all the same. She appeared desperate. She probably wanted to find Roroku.
“Akira has spent her life carrying other people’s burdens,” Kiri said. “Her brother’s, and yours. And she’s more than done her part. But before the Guardian Gods, she’s no more powerful or experienced than you kids. Things might go well or they might not, but she’s not able to put any trust in anyone she’s negotiating with—not the Guardian Gods, and not the Millennium Comet.”
Kiri knelt beside the sleeping Hinako, gently smoothing her bangs as she spoke. Hinako’s face was still flushed, but her breathing was calm.
“If I don’t say it now, I’ll never be able to say it again. My companions from the quarantine zone and I—we couldn’t say anything, not even to our family members from when we were still human. The people who changed us had little interest in what we had to say. It’s too late for me to tell them anything. But you—if you hurry, you can still make it in time.”
Kiri finished speaking, biting back her frustration. Koushi gave up on trying to quiet Mizore and knelt down beside Hinako.
“I want to see it—the world beyond this place, to see if it was worth living in,” Koushi said. “I want to show Princess Tayura. I wanted to see it with Roroku, too.” He removed the Protector Stone that Kaho had given him from his bag. The Protector Stone was attached to a cord. He tied the Protector Stone loosely around Hinako’s neck. “Hinako, wait here. We’ll go home when I come back.”
Hinako remained asleep, her eyes closed. The Protector Stone hung over her heart. It was impossible to know if she’d heard Koushi or not.
Touko stepped into the center of the room and reached for the sickle sitting on one of the metal tables. Akira had told her not to use the sickle. There was no point in Touko holding onto it. It wasn’t hers. It had belonged to Koushi’s father.
Touko picked up the sickle anyway. Leaving it behind would have felt wrong. She didn’t think she could leave it, even if that would be the right thing to do. The heaviness of the sickle reminded her of her real and solid place in the world. She wasn’t planning to hunt Fire Fiends or anything else with the sickle. It was only for self-defense. “Let’s go, Koushi,” she said.
Mizore scratched at the door even more fiercely. Koushi placed his hand under the dog’s chin and scratched with one hand. He pet Mizore’s back with his other hand, attempting to soothe her. Mizore stomped her feet angrily.
Koushi opened the metal door. Mizore ran ahead, though she stayed close enough that Touko didn’t lose track of her. Koushi raised his bottle of lightning fuel as a lantern again and followed after the dog. Touko was right behind him.
Akira had a head start. Even if Touko and the others found the quickest possible path, Akira would most likely beat them.
Kanata’s nose twitched in the half-darkness. There was no other light. They couldn’t see what lay ahead. All they needed to do was find Princess Tayura. Princess Tayura was supposed to write the truth on blessed paper for the Millennium Comet to read. They would almost certainly find Princess Tayura and the Millennium Comet at the same time.
Led by the dogs, Touko and Koushi walked through a maze of tunnels. Everything looked the same, so it was hard to tell if they were making any progress.
Kanata sniffed the ground as they traveled. He was following Akira’s scent, or maybe Temari’s.
Touko looked at Koushi, trying to examine his expression, but she couldn’t see him clearly enough in the light of their makeshift lantern. He’d had to leave Hinako behind again. She wanted to know what he thought about that. Why did he have to keep helping her when she was responsible for his father’s death?
The scent of recent rain permeated the tunnels. This place was utterly unfamiliar, but Touko had the strange feeling that she’d walked through these tunnels long ago, before she’d even been born.
Mizore tensed and tried to run ahead. Kanata caught up to her and nudged her shoulder. Mizore gave Kanata a flat, displeased look, but she slowed down until Koushi and Touko caught up to the dogs.
Touko tripped over a stone and nearly fell on her face, but Koushi caught her by the arm and held her up.
“We’re off the dirt paths now,” Koushi said. “There are cobblestones underfoot.”
Touko nodded cautiously. The ground beneath her feet certainly felt harder and harsher than before. There were no branchings in the tunnels here. The cobblestoned road was the only way forward.
Their surroundings became brighter as they walked down the cobblestoned road. Touko searched for the light source. It was below their feet, though she didn’t see any red emergency lights. The light was a soft golden color. She examined the road below them in the better light and noticed that the stones were actually petrified plant roots. Also, they were walking on a bridge, not a road. There was water far below them. Silver fish swam in the water.
The silver fish were the source of the light.
Touko and Koushi stopped in their tracks. The fish were far enough away that it was difficult to make them out clearly, but they both thought that the silver fish were the same as the ones they’d seen in a different underground passage. Koushi had seen similar fish dissolving in the silver pillar not long ago.
The bridge widened as they walked. Princess Tayura was near. Kanata’s ears perked up. Mizore also listened intently.
The bridge came to an end at a set of low wooden double doors. The doors were so small that only children could pass through them without stooping. They were covered in moss and vines. Fresh air blew through the gap between the doors.
Koushi pushed tentatively on one of the doors. It opened inward with little resistance. The door didn’t creak, but there was a whooshing sound as it opened on a dazzling white room.
Touko and Koushi covered their eyes. The room was far too bright for them; they’d just spent hours in the dark tunnels. They didn’t have time for their eyes to adjust. The whooshing of the wind through the doors grew louder moment by moment. A voice, wordless, bellowed anger at them.
Kanata barked back in defiance. He and Mizore sprinted ahead of the incapacitated humans.
The wooden doors slammed shut behind them.
No comments:
Post a Comment