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The room that Koushi and Touko were trapped in was awash in harsh white light. It looked nothing like the dim, narrow tunnels that they’d passed through to reach this place. None of that white light had escaped into the tunnels beyond. It was contained in this hidden space.
Touko felt like she’d crossed over some invisible barrier. It was like entering one of the paper-making huts without permission. She felt as if she’d stepped across a special boundary into a unique space. Fresh air filled her lungs. Her fatigue lifted off her shoulders.
Kanata’s shadow blurred into the room’s whiteness.
Temari came running at them, her fur blending into her surroundings. She whined when she saw Kanata and Mizore. Her movements were awkward; her head tilted at a strange angle.
“Look at you.” Hibari’s voice echoed in the room. “You’re all filthy!”
Touko gasped.
Temari blended in, but Hibari was difficult to even see. Her robes were the same pure white color as the light. Only Akira’s petition stood out, and that was because the paper had gotten dirty after leaving its protective bottle. Hibari carried the petition and the bandanna that served as Temari’s collar in one hand. Cold sweat dripped down the Guardian God’s forehead. The venom of Spiders was potent, so she hadn’t managed to recover from the moth bite yet.
Touko should have been frightened to see Hibari again, but she wasn’t. Her borrowed sickle felt lighter in her hands. There was something strange about this place. She looked up and saw countless threads hanging down from the ceiling like rain frozen in suspended animation. Lanterns shaped like golden stars were suspended from the ends of the threads. The lanterns moved in a slow circle. There was some kind of mechanism on the ceiling that controlled their movement. Each lantern traced its own path through the artificial sky.
White sheets of blessed paper fluttered down from above. Flickering pillars of light like the terrible pillar of fire Touko had seen made her freeze and stare. About waist-high from the floor, vertical recesses were evenly spaced along the white walls. Within each recess stood a Guardian God dressed in ceremonial robes of deep crimson.
Touko missed a breath.
The gods were motionless, arranged like statues. Both men and women concealed their faces with strands of fine beads hanging from their foreheads. They didn’t move because their limbs were bound by metal chains that stretched across the walls. The Guardian Gods looked like sacrifices—or perhaps criminals.
The blessed paper fell at the Guardian Gods’ feet. The floor was completely covered by layers upon layers of pure white paper, piled so high that it resembled snow. Touko remembered standing in the river in her village in the middle of winter, staring down at the white fibers of the paper mulberry tree.
The large amount of paper covering the floor was all raw and unrefined.
A dull, muffled splash echoed from the center of the room. A pool filled with deep blue water was in the center of the floor. The pool was too round to be natural. The water glowed faintly with a silvery light. It was the same color as the glowing liquid inside the silver pillar in the room where so many Guardian Gods lay sleeping.
“Miss Akira!” Koushi shouted. He ran past Touko to Akira, who was kneeling in a corner of the room.
Akira was breathing heavily with one hand held protectively over her stomach. Rurimatsuri, a Guardian God of the Wood Clan, stood in front of her. The blue tattoo on her cheek pulsed and twisted.
Koushi put himself between Akira and Rurimatsuri. Rurimatsuri had helped him and Touko before, but that didn’t mean she was friendly.
Rurimatsuri gave Koushi a fierce smile. “Don’t be so afraid, child. I won’t eat you. The Guardian Gods bound in chains are those with the most powerful abilities. They sealed themselves here with their own hands, for the protection of all.” She shifted slightly as her eyes lit upon Touko and the dogs. “Touko.” She smiled. “Everyone here is from the Fire Clan. It is too dangerous for them to dream their lives away. When their power expresses itself, they make sparks, and sparks cause fire and combustion. They sealed their powers away to prevent this. If their fire went wild, they would die along with many others. In this way, the Guardian Gods fulfill their duty.”
Touko felt as if something was writhing inside her stomach. The Fire Clan was widely considered to be the most powerful out of all the clans of Guardian Gods, but they could no longer wield their powers because of the danger of combustion. They stood in their recesses like corpses in a graveyard.
“I told you not to follow me,” Akira gasped out. “None of you—not even Kaho—ever listens to me.” Beads of sweat trailed down her forehead and cheeks as she cursed under her breath. She clutched her left arm to her chest. It was wrapped in many layers of blessed paper.
Temari was agitated. Touko bent down to pick her up, but the white paper on the floor dazzled her senses and she missed the dog. The sole of one of her sandals set down on something soft as she straightened her posture. She looked down and saw faint flecks of brown on the paper she’d stepped on. There was a dirt floor below all this paper.
Temari twisted away from Touko and darted across the paper floor to Akira. Her tail curled up as she nestled against Akira’s knee.
Touko ran to Akira with tottering steps.
“Is everything ready now? Has the Millennium Comet shed her vessel?” Rurimatsuri asked. She didn’t seem surprised to see that Touko and the others were here.
Hibari frowned at the humans with an expression of open contempt. “Damn it… This is your doing, isn’t it? How could you allow humans to intrude this far into the shrine?” she asked Rurimatsuri. The sleeve of her white robe was deeply stained with blood. Her collar was clean, though, despite Akira hauling her in by it before. Akira’s bloodstained dagger had fallen on the ground near its owner.
Hibari pressed down on her wound.
Rurimatsuri gave her a bright smile. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Weren’t you planning to use these two children for something?”
Hibari clenched her teeth in frustration. “The Fire Hunter shouldn’t be here. She’s in the way. She’s after the Millennium Comet, you know.”
The chained members of the Fire Clan were motionless. It was hard to tell if they were alive or dead. Their eyes were open, though, and they seemed to be watching Touko, Akira and the others.
Touko looked at the arm that Akira was clutching to her chest. “Miss Akira, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“My arm’s broken,” Akira said. “But it’s not too much of a problem.” She unwrapped the paper binding her arm. The process didn’t seem to hurt. The wrapped paper joined the rest of the blessed paper on the ground.
Akira lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Honestly, to think you’d follow me all the way to a place like this… You and Koushi aren’t allowed to die. I won’t forgive you kids if you do.”
Koushi sat down next to Akira and then lifted up her bloody dagger. He used Akira’s torn sleeve to bind the dagger to Akira’s arm as a makeshift splint.
Akira groaned, and Temari whimpered.
“You’re not allowed to die, either, Akira,” Koushi said. “Or would you feel better making us grieve for you?”
Touko gasped at Koushi’s candor.
Akira’s face twisted. “That’s not what I mean. No one is allowed to die here. Not while I’m still alive.”
The paper surrounding Akira wasn’t pure white like Touko had thought. On each sheet, pale letters had been written with a brush pen in blue ink.
Kanata growled low in his throat.
The answering growl didn’t come from Temari or Mizore. Beneath one of the alcoves where a Fire Clan Guardian God stood there was a deep recess. Within that recess was a large white dog that blended in with the white walls and floor. This dog was the same huge beast that Touko and Koushi had seen beneath the Well of the Old Tree. The dog was a test subject that was somewhere between a normal beast and a Fire Fiend.
The dog’s name was En, and he was Princess Tayura’s pet. That was what Kiri had told Koushi and Touko. En raised his head, baring his fangs at Kanata.
Temari’s hackles raised. She barked angrily at En. The larger dog paid her no attention.
Mizore’s eyes tracked En’s movements, but she made no sound.
“Humans aren’t allowed here,” Hibari said to Rurimatsuri. “You know that as well as anyone.”
“Such rules don’t matter now,” Rurimatsuri said. “They’re here, and so are we. Didn’t you want to bear witness to the Millennium Comet’s decision? None of the Guardian Gods can oppose her will now. They dare not.” She shrugged, and her glossy hair fell in sheets down her back.
“Kanata,” Touko whispered. Kanata didn’t react. Maybe she’d spoken too softly. She didn’t want any of the dogs to attack one another. En was stronger than any ordinary beast. If he fought, it wouldn’t end well for anyone. She tried to read what was written on the blessed paper, but she couldn’t make out all of the letters.
Princess Tayura wrote her missives and commands on blessed paper. Was all the paper on the floor hers? Was this where all her letters were kept?
Bubbles burbled on the surface of the pool of water.
“Is this where Princess Tayura lives?” Koushi asked.
Hibari bared her teeth. The bloodstain spreading out on her sleeve froze and then started to shrink. She had healed her wound. She didn’t look at Koushi or Touko. “The Millennium Comet is too entrenched. She empathizes with the girl she is possessing. The girl’s despair threatens to douse the flame that the Millennium Comet carries. This is a disgraceful state of affairs.”
Hibari’s voice was low and cold. She’d always shown genuine concern for the Millennium Comet, but she clearly despised Kira.
The ceiling lights glittered and moved. Stars spun in a circle.
“What will happen to Kira?” Koushi asked. There was an undercurrent of despair in his voice. Perhaps the Guardian Gods could remove the fire from within the Millennium Comet, but it seemed unlikely that they could do that without harming Kira. Even if they managed that and Kira lived, she would never be the same as before.
“Who knows?” Rurimatsuri asked. “The vessel was never terribly useful. It will probably fall to the Earth Clan to decide if she’ll live or die. They might just bury her alive. That’s neater—one less loose end.”
Her blunt words made Koushi flinch.
After the Millennium Comet won free of her vessel, she and Kira would be two separate entities again.
Temari hunched her shoulders and growled at En. En was reclining on the paper floor, his fur bristling, ready to pounce at any time.
Touko gripped the handle of her borrowed sickle with both hands. She was just as worried about Kira as Koushi was. She’s not all right, Touko thought. Not after all this.
The Guardian Gods had used Kira as nothing more than a tool to achieve their own selfish ends.
“En, don’t move,” Hibari commanded. “Spilling blood here will harm Princess Tayura.” She looked at Akira, who spat an expletive at her. Her Fire Hunter’s sickle was close at hand.
“Your blood and my blood are the same,” Akira fumed. “That dog—that’s Princess Tayura’s pet? Is his blood like ours, too? If he gets hurt in his master’s defense, does that make him a bad dog? You Guardian Gods don’t understand desperation, mortality or protection.” She scowled.
The eyes of the bound Fire Clan Guardian Gods tracked Akira’s sickle as she picked it up.
No matter what Hibari said, there would be violence here. Touko wondered what it would be like if the Millennium Comet burned the stars. Would that be brighter than the Spiders’ fire? Or the pillar of fire she’d seen? Would it be like the fire that had burned along the horizon in one of her dreams of the black moon? Was the Millennium Comet truly as fearsome as all that?
Touko heard a faint ringing sound emanating out from one of the jeweled ornaments concealing the face of a bound Guardian God. The bound Guardian Gods looked like statues, but they were alive and they could move, if only just a little bit. What did the ringing mean? Was it some kind of signal?
En rose from his belly and stalked his way through the room. He targeted Akira, leaping at her and pinning her down. His jaws snapped closed where Akira’s head had been an instant before. Akira twisted out from under the dog, barely avoiding En’s attack. The claws of En’s hind leg gashed her shoulder as she retreated.
Temari barked fiercely. Kanata and Mizore sprang into action. Mizore bounded over to En and gripped him by the throat, biting fiercely. En shook himself violently, flinging Kanata away from him. Mizore kept holding on by the skin of her teeth.
Torn pieces of blessed paper fluttered in the air. Illuminated by star-shaped lights, they looked like flower petals scattering.
En reared up on his hind legs in a monstrous burst of strength, lifting Mizore bodily into the air.
Akira swung her sickle at the tendon of En’s hind leg with one hand. The dog collapsed on the spot, howling in agony. Mizore quickly pulled out her fangs and scampered away.
As the battle raged, Touko reached Kanata, who had been blown to the wall’s edge.
“Kanata!”
Kanata wasn’t hurt, at least not badly. He shook himself, then stood up and looked around. He didn’t spare Touko a glance; his attention was on En and the other dogs.
Touko clutched her borrowed sickle in one hand and her two Protector Stones in the other. The two stones clacked together. The first one had been given to her by her grandmother. It had “Princess Tokohana” engraved on it.
The dogs’ movements and the sound of Akira’s breathing disturbed the air. The blessed white paper beneath their feet gleamed like fresh-fallen snow. A gurgling sound like a water tank filling up echoed from the direction of the pool.
Rurimatsuri grinned fiercely, her red lips shining. She watched the dogs and Akira fight and didn’t intervene.
Koushi’s eyes were on the bound Guardian Gods. He was certain that he’d seen one of them move earlier. Neither Hibari nor Rurimatsuri had commanded En to attack, so the order must have come from one of them. Though bound and still as statues, they were still aware of what was going on around them.
Touko pressed her Protector Stones to her chest, breathing heavily.
“The Guardian Gods can’t survive without humans,” Koushi said, pitching his voice to carry.
Hibari’s shoulders went rigid. Akira glared back at him, irked that he’d broken her concentration. She put pressure on her bleeding shoulder.
“Factories dump toxic waste. All the villages are isolated from one another. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that someone was trying to keep humans weak. The Guardian Gods keep us divided deliberately, so that we’ll never rise up and defy them. That’s how the Guardian Gods protect themselves. They’re not too different from humans, and are only pretending to be gods.”
Rurimatsuri covered her mouth with her sleeve and laughed. “How utterly absurd,” she said. “You believe things are truly that simple. Perhaps you think we’ve underestimated humans. Maybe you thought we hadn’t anticipated that they would come to understand the circumstances of their own oppression.”
The bound Guardian Gods all around them remained silent and motionless. Bubbles rose to the surface of the pool. Touko thought that there must be silver fish underwater, but she didn’t see any.
Rurimatsuri kept speaking. “You there, Fire Hunter. Are you familiar with how your sickle was made? All such sickles were created through the sacrifice of Princess Tokohana, Princess Tayura’s elder sister. She gave her life so that humans would gain a tool to harvest fire fuel from the Fire Fiends. She wanted to save humanity, and to restore order to the world. After the last calamity, only Guardian Gods were strong and capable enough to achieve such things. They possess longer lifespans and powers that resonate with those present in nature. There are even a few, like Hibari there, who can manipulate artificial things.”
Hibari gave Rurimatsuri a glare full of hostility.
“Some of the Guardian Gods attempted to use their powers to save the dying or desperate. Princess Tokohana was one such Guardian God, and there are others.”
The pool of water continued bubbling. Water seeped into the paper surrounding it. The dogs stood motionless, waiting for commands.
“A desire to help is a noble thing, but there are situations that no amount of power can fix,” Rurimatsuri said. “When the Fire Clan lost control of their powers, it was a heavy blow to both humans and other Guardian Gods. No new Guardian Goddess was born to lead us, so we had to make do with what we had. The Spiders broke away from the capital, fracturing the Guardian Gods’ power further. The system of governance that many of the more able-bodied among us had envisioned was in tatters. Most of those well-intentioned Guardian Gods decided to escape from reality, as you saw. Those are the sleepers underground.”
Rurimatsuri pointed one slender finger at the pool. The water bubbled and roiled, shedding faint blue light on the bound Guardian Gods.
“Princess Tayura is old beyond imagining,” Rurimatsuri said. “She should have been permitted to die long ago. The factories in the capital produce goods and pollution, but their true purpose is to extend her life.”
Koushi’s shoulders fell in disappointment or anger or both. Kanata ran to comfort him and slipped on wet paper.
“That’s what the factories are for? To keep Princess Tayura alive?” Koushi asked.
Rurimatsuri laughed again, though she sounded more exasperated this time. “Humans are poor listeners, it seems.”
En burst into motion, scattering paper all around him as he leaped at Akira again. He barked, and golden flames lit the edges of his fur.
Akira braced herself to meet En’s next attack. She was wounded all over and one arm was broken. It didn’t seem like she’d be able to win this fight.
Touko still had her borrowed sickle in her hand, and she’d been able to fight a Fallen Beast. Should she try to fight off En? How?
No; that didn’t matter. Touko had a weapon and was unhurt. She could at least shield Akira from En’s wrath for a little while.
Touko ran at En. Kanata leaped in front of her.
“I’ll explain it more simply, then,” Rurimatsuri said to Koushi. “The factories purify the fire fuel harvested from Fire Fiends.”
En was about to swat Kanata out of the air when Mizore advanced and bowled him back with her whole body. En was briefly stunned. He bit at Mizore but only grazed her gray fur. Mizore tumbled to the ground but got back up immediately, scattering paper in all directions.
Then Kanata attacked En from behind. En tried to escape, folding his injured hind leg into his body, but he was too slow. Kanata yanked En’s tail backward with his teeth, then leaped up on En’s back. He leaped for En’s throat and bit in, using Mizore’s previous teeth marks as a guide.
The dogs moved at ferocious speed, performing a wild, fierce dance. Even if the humans or the Guardian Gods had wanted to intervene, there wasn’t space for them in this battle.
“Princess Tayura requires the power in fire fuel to survive,” Rurimatsuri said. “But the raw, untreated stuff might as well be poison. The factories use the raw fuel, and then a tiny amount of purified fuel remains. This pure fuel is gathered and given to Princess Tayura. This has been how things work since the capital was founded. We are rotting from the roots up. It might have been better for us all if the Spiders had conquered the city.”
En yelped, then crouched down. His ears flattened on his head. He didn’t move.
The star-shaped lights slowly moving across the ceiling flickered and crackled. Touko heard the ringing sound again and realized that the bound Guardian Gods were trying to move.
“We are a favored clan, and we will triumph.”
Touko didn’t recognize the voice. She wasn’t sure if anyone had spoken aloud, or if she was just hearing the words in her mind somehow.
“We are blessed by the stars, far more so than the children of men.”
Hibari’s jaw clenched. She must be hearing the same voices. She could use illusions to show people things that weren’t there, including voices, but this display was beyond even her powers.
“We sustain the children of men. They cannot sustain themselves.”
The voice traveled up from the floor, causing resonances in the soles of Touko’s feet and through her bones. She heard the same voice coming from above and below, but she couldn’t identify the speaker.
“Princess Tayura is our pillar of support. Without her, all crumbles. She binds and circulates the powers we possess, making use of them correctly so that it does not cause harm. She is of the Fire Clan. Our rulers have only ever been of the Fire Clan. We have entombed ourselves here with the Ritual of Restoration, and there is no way back for us. The Fire Clan is bound. No new ruler can be born. We must keep Princess Tayura alive. More power is needed now than ever before. That power is drawn from the children of men.”
Koushi gaped. “I can’t even imagine how much power something like that would take.”
Hibari had gone pale. Her lips pressed together in a grim line.
Koushi clenched his fists, then turned in a circle, looking at all of the entombed Guardian Gods. He needed to speak. If not for his own sake, then for Hinako’s. For the sake of the city where he’d been born and raised.
Torn pieces of paper that had been sent swirling by the dogs fluttered gently down.
“The factories are poison,” Koushi said. “Why is that necessary? I understand that humans must work for the benefit of the Guardian Gods, but killing us with pollution works counter to that goal.”
The bound gods didn’t move. Touko still felt their power emanating above and below her, though. That power felt strong enough to erase her, Koushi, Akira and the dogs from existence.
“The children of men must endure hardships for the sake of prosperity,” the voice intoned.
“That’s a lie!” Koushi shouted. “The Guardian Gods are nothing but cowards! They pretend to be special and exploit others. They don’t care if humans die as long as it benefits them.”
Touko closed her eyes, unable to bear what she was seeing. The power of the bound Guardian Gods put a terrible strain on her body and mind. She felt like their eyes were boring holes in her skin. The bound Guardian Gods were intimidating by their mere presence. Even Akira remained silent. She could barely keep Temari calm.
“Things must continue,” the voice of the bound Guardian Gods answered. “The fuel must be purified. The capital and its factories exist for this purpose. In time, the children of men will benefit, and this will usher in a new era. The Guardian Gods will welcome the Millennium Comet, who was created in Princess Tayura’s image. Her arrival is the signal that the world will have a new and brighter future.”
“You say that, but you can’t believe it,” Koushi said.
Koushi sounded angry to Touko. Maybe his anger was what gave him the strength to push against the tremendous power of the bound Guardian Gods.
Touko remembered the room she’d first been in when she’d awoken beneath the shrine. So many Guardian Gods were sleeping there with plants and stone growing out of them. She shuddered. How can they have good dreams when they’re like that? she wondered. Their dreams were of the distant past. She had no idea what the past was like, but she found it hard to imagine that it was so good that it outweighed everything else.
The Guardian Gods sleeping in that room might as well be dead already. Had they really chosen that? Wasn’t there anything else they’d been able to do?
The silver fish she’d seen had dissolved inside the silver pillar. Maybe their lives were being used like human lives were—to preserve the sleeping Guardian Gods and prevent them from dying.
The sound of burbling water made Touko turn around.
“How many people do you think have suffered and died because so many Guardian Gods decided to sleep instead of act?” Koushi asked. “They’re cowards, like I said. They ran away from reality because it’s so terrible. That’s not prosperity, and it’s not a good foundation for a better future, either. Something has to change!”
Koushi’s words echoed in the space. The bound Guardian Gods heard them, but so did someone else.
“The Millennium Comet doesn’t want to obey the Guardian Gods,” Koushi said. “Neither do we. We can’t endure being treated like this any longer. Humans are not insignificant pawns, and their suffering matters.” He sucked in a breath and then set his shoulders. “We’re the backbone of the Guardian Gods. They need us to supply the purified fire fuel for Princess Tayura.”
The bound Guardian Gods remained silent for a time. The oppressive atmosphere in the room lightened by degrees.
Rurimatsuri chuckled nastily. “It is foolish to provoke them,” she said. “They may be bound, but they still have power. They could take control of me or Hibari to kill you all if they wished. They could even take control of En, the dog who almost became a Fire Fiend.”
En snapped his jaws in Koushi’s direction, but he didn’t attack.
Hibari shook her head. “This is pointless,” she said. “All of it. All I ever wanted was to save my sisters. The other Guardian Gods mean little to me. If my powers can help save my sisters, then I’ll use them for that purpose. But I’m a Guardian God, and that means I have to act for the good of us all, whether I want to or not. We have to maintain the barriers and keep humans working in the factories. It’s orders, and it’s how we maintain the balance of power between clans.”
The bound Guardian Gods said nothing. The water in the pool continued burbling and roiling.
“Were all Guardian Gods human once?” Koushi asked.
Air swirled at Hibari’s feet. White paper rustled.
“Fire was contained within the Fire Fiends. The Tree People were altered so that they could live in the Black Forest and aid others. The Guardian Gods were similarly altered, but for different purposes. They are a new kind of humanity, possessing long lifespans and supernatural abilities,” Koushi said.
Hibari frowned deeply, but said nothing.
“We saw them,” Koushi said. “Infants and fetuses in jars. They were dead—failed experiments. But a few succeeded, didn’t they?”
Silence all around.
Touko started walking toward the pool. No one paid any attention to her. When she reached the pool’s edge, she placed her borrowed sickle on the paper-covered floor. The lip of the pool was reinforced with packed, hardened earth. A chill went through her as she leaned toward the water. This place had the air of a mausoleum. She’d spent a fair amount of time in her village’s graveyard, but this chamber was far grander than that. It was like something out of one of her grandmother’s old tales. Like the tomb of a king, or a god.
The bubbles on the surface of the pool were small and finely detailed like the eyes of an infant. Silver fish swum in the water. They darted in and out of her field of vision, their shapes lost in the cloudy blue water. Paper lay scattered all around her. All of the paper had writing on it. She wondered if the letter that Roroku had delivered to Princess Tayura’s shadow was here somewhere.
The last bubble disappeared, and then the bubbling ceased.
A hazy figure emerged from the surface of the pool.
The first impression Touko got of the figure was that it was skeletal. Flesh clung to bone, but most of the bones were visible. The shape was human, though it was hard to think of it as being alive. The figure looked like no human or Guardian God she’d ever seen. They were standing right in front of her, but they seemed entirely unreal.
“Sister,” Hibari said quietly.
Princess Tayura stood before Touko. She was among the last of the survivors of the ancient world. She was breathing—Touko saw her chest rise and fall—and that breathing made no sound.
Layers of pure white paper fluttered lightly upward. The star-shaped lights hanging from the ceiling crackled.
“Princess Tayura has always been loyal to her duty.”
The bound Guardian Gods hadn’t spoken this time. There were other Guardian Gods in the room now, all lined up in a row on their knees. They bowed to Princess Tayura.
This sight reminded Touko of the vision that Hibari had shown Touko once. In that vision, the Guardian Gods had all been assembled together. They’d spoken of Princess Tayura, though she hadn’t been there.
“Princess Tayura.” Rurimatsuri went to her knees.
Hibari was already on the floor, bowing her head low.
The bound Guardian Gods couldn’t bow, of course, but there were strange clinking and ringing sounds as they attempted to show respect to their ruler.
Silver fish swum at Princess Tayura’s feet and then dissolved. Her flesh took on a bit more definition. In the light of the gleaming lanterns, her body appeared practically transparent, but her presence was a weighty thing.
“No way,” Akira said. She stood up.
Temari let out a low bark as a warning.
Koushi stared at Princess Tayura, absolutely dumbstruck by what he was seeing.
Princess Tayura’s long, colorless hair drifted down her back like seaweed. Her face lacked distinct features. Touko didn’t see any eyes or lips.
Hibari stood up swiftly. “This is Princess Tayura. She unites the Guardian Gods. She is the sister of Princess Tokohana, and the elder twin of Yururuho, the Millennium Comet.” Her voice faded away into the chamber’s vast empty spaces.
En was still favoring his hind leg, but he managed to wag his tail.
En really is Princess Tayura’s dog, just like Kiri said, Touko thought.
Fire flickered on En’s undercoat and his eyes glowed a brilliant red. His tongue stuck out and he shook his tail vigorously.
Touko found it hard to believe that Princess Tayura was still alive. She certainly wasn’t overjoyed to see her.
More silver fish dissolved at Princess Tayura’s feet, strengthening her body like rainwater falling on tree roots. Maybe the fish weren’t the source of her strength, but the water? Was the water in the pool actually purified fire fuel?
Mizore put herself between Koushi and Princess Tayura. Her hackles raised.
Princess Tayura was more emaciated than the Millennium Comet. She looked nothing like Warashi.
“Why?” Touko asked.
Rurimatsuri faced her. “You ask why? You are the first humans to see her in an age. Why don’t you tell us?” She stood up, rearranging her dress as she did so. “She is as you see her. Her power supplies this country’s barriers. She is our pillar, and she is crumbling. Her days are numbered. That is why the Millennium Comet returned. All of the clans are plotting and scheming to make her our next pillar. But why would she willingly accept such a duty? She would be bound here forever, and would eventually suffer the same fate as her sister.” She laughed hollowly.
A silver shimmer of light emanated from the star-shaped ceiling lamps, reflecting the hair of the Millennium Comet as she appeared floating in midair.
Akira gasped.
The Millennium Comet was back in her true form; she was no longer possessing Kira.
Temari barked sharply, but only once. The sound was neither a threat nor a welcome.
The Millennium Comet smiled gently at Temari.
Akira trembled in awe as she looked up at the Millennium Comet.
The Millennium Comet descended onto the white paper, shifting her gaze to Akira as she floated down. She spared a fleeting, pitying glance for Princess Tayura, her sister, as she descended.
“Don’t move too much. You’ll fall apart,” the Millennium Comet said to Princess Tayura. She reached for Princess Tayura’s hand tentatively, wrapping the hand in her own. Her silver eyes moved around the room, taking in all of the bound Guardian Gods.
“You all don’t do anything either. If you interfere, I’ll burn this place down.”
The walls seemed to recede into the distance. Touko felt the powerful presence of the bound Guardian Gods recede a little.
The Millennium Comet’s hair moved around her like an independent living thing. She knelt down, and Princess Tayura sank down into the pool so that only her head, torso and arms were above the water. She kept her hand in her sister’s. Her face was turned toward the Millennium Comet as if she could see her. She couldn’t smile, but Touko thought that Princess Tayura was happy to see the Millennium Comet again.
“En. I’m glad you’re here, too,” the Millennium Comet said.
En wagged his tail again, but more slowly this time.
“Where is Kira?” Touko asked. “Please bring her back.”
The Millennium Comet’s gaze fixed on Touko. Silver hair traced invisible air currents. “Kira is alive. She will return to you soon.”
Before Touko or the others could speak, Hibari took a step forward. “We are grateful for your return. It must have been very painful for you. The Spiders that infiltrated the capital have been eradicated, and the humans who tried to defy the Guardian Gods are quelled. Most of the gods who interfered with this are dead or wounded. We are here to listen to the Millennium Comet’s will. We will do what she desires.”
The Millennium Comet tilted her head. “Must I choose?” she asked.
Hibari looked up.
“Do I absolutely have to choose?” the Millennium Comet asked. “What choices do I even have? The girl who became my vessel wished for everything to perish. How many people have already died? Even if I disappear, this will continue, won’t it? In a world like this, choosing anything but death is impossible.”
“I understand,” Hibari said heavily, averting her eyes.
“Long ago, humans destroyed even stars,” the Millennium Comet said. “To ensure such a tragedy would never happen again, the gods entrusted fire to the creatures of the wild. But so many people are still suffering. This world is no different from the one that was destroyed.” She closed her eyes briefly, her eyelashes crossing.
“I would choose for all to perish, as the girl chosen as my vessel desired. Her name is Kira, and she taught me much about this world. She kept asking for my name, which was hard for her to hear. She was afraid we wouldn’t meet again because everyone close to her has vanished or died. Inside her, there was nothing—she was completely empty, yet simultaneously filled with overwhelming anger. Her parents died before her eyes. She never wanted anyone to die. Even now, what she wants is for everyone to just disappear. If she had made use of the fire within me, she would have erased all of the lives in the city.”
The Millennium Comet’s expression was bleak and lonely. Princess Tayura squeezed her hand like she wanted to reassure her sister.
“I was sent to the sky to watch over the world. I was meant to save and comfort people, but all I could do was watch more tragedies. I was powerless to help. No one could stop the killing. The destruction would not cease. I began to wonder if those on earth existed only to bring about their own ruin. So many people caused their own destruction, saying, ‘This isn’t how it was supposed to be, this isn’t what I intended.’ There were no saints, and few villains. The powerless and the powerful were all responsible for the devastation in equal measure. That is because the pathogen that causes spontaneous combustion affected all equally. What I saw was meaningless suffering.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder and then lifted her face. Sheets of blessed paper rustled as they danced around her.
Touko was almost certain of what the Millennium Comet would say next.
“I don’t want to become a sacrifice for this world. I don’t want to see any more suffering.”
Rurimatsuri bowed her head. She was smiling.
“I will burn the planet,” the Millennium Comet said. Her flowing silver hair traced a breathtakingly beautiful pattern in the air.
“Wait,” Akira said. “Wait. If you do that, everything your sister has done will be for nothing. The letters here—didn’t she write them so that you could read them? Have you read them all?”
“Silence, Fire Hunter,” Hibari commanded.
A single sheet of blessed paper rose from the floor and wrapped tightly around Akira’s broken arm. The paper looked like a bandage, but it squeezed Akira’s arm so tightly that her face twisted in pain.
“I have read them,” the Millennium Comet said. “I have read them all.” Her eyes were as deep and dark as the void of space.
Akira met the Millennium Comet’s gaze without flinching or looking away.
“The letters are lies,” the Millennium Comet said. “This is what they say: ‘The world is beautiful. The reign of the Guardian Gods brings peace. Destruction should not be allowed.’ Every sheet says something like that. Over and over, so many times… Was my sister forced to keep living just to write things like this?”
Sheets of paper swirled around the Millennium Comet’s feet in an agitated cyclone.
“Stop!” Koushi shouted in desperation. “Stop. Don’t burn the planet. That’s not what Kira wants. I know she’s suffered, and so have you, and so have a lot of people, but Kira never thought that suffering was meaningless.”
The Millennium Comet twisted toward Koushi, listening.
“Many people still live,” Koushi said. “Humans, Guardian Gods, and Spiders. I’ve killed more than my fair share of Spiders, so I don’t mind if you want to burn me as a punishment. But the world isn’t beyond help. It can be changed. There must be a way to sustain the world in a way that causes less suffering. We should be able to think of another path—one that doesn’t require sacrificing a single person. The power to do that exists within you.”
The Millennium Comet gave him a questioning stare.
Kanata and Mizore were panting from tension and stress.
Akira exhaled heavily. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself, as she often did when she was hunting Fire Fiends. “Easier said than done,” she said to Koushi. To the Millennium Comet, she said, “Your role is not to choose the fate of the world. You were meant to observe it; you’ve said as much yourself. The problems of this world are a king’s to solve. I was willing to hunt you when I thought you were just a hunk of animated metal, but you’re just a kid like Touko. I don’t think you have the right to choose who lives and who dies. Not on a planet-wide scale.”
The Millennium Comet’s eyes widened in surprise.
The paper wrapped around Akira’s arm tightened, making Akira groan in pain. Akira kept her eyes on the Millennium Comet, though. She didn’t look away for a moment.
Akira would sacrifice her arm to save the world. She was willing to sacrifice a lot more than that. She had been from the beginning.
“Do not torment the Fire Hunter, Hibari,” the Millennium Comet said. “There is no point in arguing with her, and there is no point in violence, either.” She looked down. “When I first returned, I allowed myself a little bit of hope. I thought that there might be something new. I decided to search for a reason for people to keep living on this planet.” She lapsed into silence, implying that she hadn’t found the reason she’d been searching for.
Warashi popped into existence before Touko’s eyes, her white hair falling loose around her shoulders. She wore pure white robes. She stood so close that her nose nearly touched Touko’s. Her small hand cupped Touko’s cheek.
The scent of the midwinter river in her village came flooding back to Touko. The chill in the air, the sensation of the water carrying away all the heat under her skin. White snow, black river, dull gray sky. The floating black bark of the paper mulberry trees with the white gleaming on the inside under the light of the moon.
Does there have to be a reason? Touko wondered.
Warashi, an avatar of Princess Tayura, beckoned to her.
Kanata let out a short bark in alarm.
Doesn’t life have meaning in itself? We all live and then die. There doesn’t need to be some kind of grand purpose, does there? Touko asked herself.
She stepped onto the paper floor, following after Warashi.
Princess Tayura slipped down back into the pool of water and was lost to view. Warashi hovered before the pool’s surface for a moment before she sank down as well.
Touko bent down and placed her hands into the blue water. She hadn’t decided to do this consciously; her body was moving on its own. The water was warm and clean. She thought about meaning as the water washed her filthy hands. Benio had lived and died before getting married or finding her place in life. She had said that she would work hard and cause her new village to be proud of her, but she’d died before she could do that. Her life had still had meaning, though. Touko remembered Benio with an ache in her heart. Hotaru had asked Touko, Benio and Kaho to be safe and happy; that was all she’d wanted. Benio had blushed and looked away after Hotaru had said that.
There was no inherent meaning behind Touko’s birth. She didn’t think anyone was meant to be born, but they lived and died just the same.
“I was very lonely when you stopped coming back.” Touko felt her throat working, but these were not her words. Princess Tayura was speaking through her. Touko’s surprise was quickly replaced by understanding. Princess Tayura no longer had a functional throat to speak with, so she needed Touko’s help.
“I was truly happy that you were freed from the heavy burden of your duties,” Princess Tayura said. “You can fly as far as you wish. I prayed that the other side of the sky wouldn’t be too lonely a place for you.”
These were Princess Tayura’s own words, not the lies written on the scattered paper on the floor.
“The world was burned to ashes, and after that, the Black Forest arose. A ritual returned fire to the wild beasts, and humans lost it. As did the Guardian Gods.” She was speaking only to the Millennium Comet. The bound gods might as well not be present.
“I have lived long beyond my natural lifespan,” Princess Tayura said. “I decided to keep serving as the leader of the Guardian Gods so that when you returned, you would not be alone.”
Touko felt like these words came straight from Princess Tayura’s heart.
“I have been waiting here all this time.”
The Millennium Comet didn’t blink. She barely reacted, but she was looking at Touko with wide eyes.
Touko didn’t resist having Princess Tayura speak through her. The power that allowed for this to happen was strange and mysterious, but not very painful. She felt cold, but no worse.
Kanata came close and curled up next to Touko as if he were trying to warm her up.
“I could see nothing outside from within the shrine,” Princess Tayura said. “But I could feel the presence of many people. People living in the capital. People living in the villages scattered in the forest. That is why I was able to believe that the world had not ended. I thought that this place was one you could return to. You were created in my likeness. My sister, born from my own blood. I worried about you, just as Tokohana once worried about me.”
“Stop,” the Millennium Comet said quietly. Her eyebrows furrowed.
Touko felt Princess Tayura’s pain pass through her, threatening to tear her heart in two.
“I have read all of your letters already,” the Millennium Comet said. “That’s enough. Please stop. There is nothing more to say.”
“There is,” Princess Tayura said. For decades, she had written nothing but what the other Guardian Gods had told her to write. Most of that had been lies: assurances of the world’s safety and stability. That was why she’d sent Warashi to lead Touko to the pool. There were many things that she wanted to say to her sister that had never been written down.
“I have always worried about how you were doing all alone up there,” Princess Tayura said.
Tears spilled from Touko’s eyes. She was so cold: as cold as she’d been in her village’s river in midwinter. She almost lapsed into unconsciousness. She felt like a piece of paper mulberry tree bark floating in dark, cold water as the current swept her away.
Princess Tayura gripped the edge of the pool with semi-transparent fingers. She reached one hand into the pile of paper on the floor and tugged one sheet toward her. Unlike most of the others, this piece of paper was marked with clear black ink, not the pale blue ink that was typical of most of her missives.
This was not one of Princess Tayura’s letters. It was Akira’s petition.
Tayura read Akira’s petition aloud. “When my brother came to deliver the message, why was he not listened to right away?”
Touko’s heart was in her throat. She swallowed heavily. Akira’s handwriting was just as slanted and awkward as she remembered.
“I’ve always hated the Guardian Gods,” Princess Tayura said through Touko, continuing to read Akira’s petition. “I’ve always hated the world. There have been times when I wished that everyone and everything would just die.”
The Millennium Comet’s gaze was cold and unfeeling.
Akira remained silent and looked down at the paper-covered floor.
“Even so, I still can’t give up. Fire Hunters are a part of the Black Forest. They understand it. They can predict the thoughts and movements of the Fire Fiends. In some ways, we become like them. We hunt them by understanding them, and in this way we gain fire fuel.”
Was this truly Akira’s motivation? Was this why she’d said she trusted Fire Fiends? She’d always seemed so bright and determined to Touko. Her brightness never dimmed. She’d told Touko that the first Fire Fiend she’d ever hunted had saved her from a Fire Hunter who was attacking her. After that, she hadn’t worked with other Fire Hunters again. She’d trekked through the Black Forest alone, with only little Temari for company.
Akira hadn’t come here to die. That thought relieved Touko. Akira wasn’t the kind of person who would give up, even against overwhelming odds. She hadn’t abandoned the wounded people in the capital after the Spiders attacked. She wouldn’t abandon herself or her own life, either.
That was why Akira should be the King of the Fire Hunters.
Touko felt like Akira’s words were being carved into her own body as Princess Tayura kept speaking through her. “The Guardian Gods, the Tree People, Fire Fiends and Spiders are all part of this world. They are equally deserving of life. The Millennium Comet possesses the power to sustain the world. The King of the Fire Hunters can support that effort. Please guide the Millennium Comet into the industrial area at night, right in front of the gate that leads to the largest factories. If that can’t be done, please punish the writer of this letter in a place where people can see.”
Touko gasped painfully.
“That way people will know that I had the audacity to write such a petition as this to the leader of all the Guardian Gods.”
Touko remembered what Kaho had said—or rather, what Shouzou had said through her. Akira was stupid: no doubt about that. If a Fire Hunter were executed in public, the people of the capital might rise up against the Guardian Gods. Perhaps that was Akira’s goal from the start. If she couldn’t save humans herself, then she’d martyr herself as an example for the next generation. Adding fuel to the fire of discontent.
That was the end of Akira’s petition, but Princess Tayura did not stop speaking. “Do not kill people who are accompanied by dogs.” These words had been added by Roroku. His handwriting was also poor, though not as bad as Akira’s. It must have been so challenging for him to write with his left hand.
Princess Tayura’s hand trembled on the paper Akira and Roroku had written on. She let it go, and her slender hand vanished beneath the water.
Princess Tayura’s divine power departed from Touko. Touko collapsed to the ground, nearly falling into the pool. Her lungs felt like they’d been scraped raw. Kanata leaned in close, sniffing her all over and licking her cheeks.
“Impossible,” the Millennium Comet said flatly. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “I can’t choose. I can’t bear what has happened to this world, or what has been done to my sisters. I was sent into the sky to save this world, this planet. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even manage to run away…”
Touko sat there, crying and not knowing what to do. She couldn’t choose if she were in the Millennium Comet’s place, either. She’d witnessed nothing but death. She seemed so much weaker than the first time Touko had seen her.
People could pray to the Millennium Comet to save them, but the Millennium Comet had no one to pray to.
Touko had Kanata to care for her, but Princess Tayura was in no condition to help her sister even though she wanted to. No one could help the Millennium Comet except herself.
Touko pulled her bag close to her chest. Her two Protector Stones were inside. She couldn’t speak. Her throat hurt just as much as her lungs did.
At the bottom of the bag, there was a note from her cousin Rin. The note she’d written contained only one word: “Sorry.” She’d apologized for stealing Touko’s red barrette, which had been a gift from her deceased parents.
The Millennium Comet looked at Touko. She smiled slightly. “Is that from your sister? Perhaps, perhaps not. It is from your home village, though, is it not?” Wrinkles deepened on her face as she smiled wider.
“I cannot save the world,” the Millennium Comet said. She looked like a baby that had been born premature. There was deep compassion in her voice and her smile.
Touko couldn’t look away from the Millennium Comet.
“I also cannot bring this world to an end,” the Millennium Comet continued. “I cannot change the world in any meaningful way. I couldn’t even bear to watch over it any longer. There is nothing I can do.” She bent down and reached for Touko’s hand. For a moment, Touko thought that the Millennium Comet would embrace her, but all she did was squeeze Touko’s hand. With her free hand, she lifted up Haijuu’s sickle.
“Well, there is one thing,” the Millennium Comet said. “I can be hunted. I don’t think I would mind being hunted by you.” Her fingers appeared too thin and fragile to even lift the sickle, but she carried it with ease.
Touko was stunned. She wanted to tell the Millennium Comet to wait so that she could ask questions, but the Millennium Comet didn’t give her a chance. She brought the sickle to her own throat and pressed it to the skin there.
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