Brave Story

  Meena blushed even deeper—maybe it was more than embarrassment from having overreacted back in the tent. Maybe it was because Captain Ronmel was a strikingly handsome man. His nose cut a sharp line in the center of his face. Even the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes were charming. Wataru guessed he was about the same age as Uncle Lou.

  “So, you’re Highlanders.” The captain’s blue eyes hadn’t failed to miss the firewyrm armlet Wataru wore. “I heard that quite recently in Gasara there was a young boy who helped apprehend the criminals behind a string of killings. He was invited to join the Highlanders. Might that be you?”

  Wataru faced the captain directly and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then you are a Traveler from the real world, then? Is this true?”

  Wataru could see no reason to hide the truth from him. He responded yes again. The captain’s expression did not change, nor did the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes move. The Knight taking notes, on the other hand, seemed to hold his breath, even scooting back noticeably in his chair. A single drop of ink fell from the tip of his pen. Kee Keema was flustered so much by this—though there was really no reason for him to be worried at all—that his tongue whipped out and licked the top of his head.

  “Excuse me,” the young Knight and Kee Keema said at the same time. The Knight’s face blushed deep crimson. Meena giggled and slapped a hand over her mouth, growing even redder. The young Knight began to fidget in his chair.

  At last, Captain Ronmel laughed out loud. “You’ll have to excuse us. It’s been a long journey, and with all the serious investigations to be done, we haven’t had a break in a while. And it’s late, we’re all tired.”

  I guess people get giddy when they stay up late here in Vision too.

  At last everyone was sitting comfortably in their chairs, and the questions proceeded quickly. Wataru’s group hadn’t witnessed the accident directly, but they had seen the aftermath.

  It was a stroke of luck that there hadn’t been any serious injuries, Captain Ronmel concluded. “We’ve had a number of accidents involving darbaba carts turning over on roads all over the country lately. We investigate them seriously because some of them seem to have happened on purpose in order to obstruct traffic.”

  That’s why they came to investigate in the middle of the night.

  “Everyone was quite surprised that you came here yourself, Captain,” Kee Keema said.

  Captain Ronmel looked at Wataru. “I thought it might be a good chance to meet this Traveler that Kutz was talking about. I counted the days since you left Gasara and determined he would be around here by now.”

  “Kutz told you about me?”

  “‘For all his crying like a baby, he’s a brazenly clever little one,’” The captain said, doing a passable imitation of Kutz. His eyes were smiling. Wataru laughed.

  “That sounds just like her!”

  “We’ve known each other for a while. You might say we’re rivals.”

  Because you dumped her?

  “By the way, there was another thing I wanted to ask. You stopped at Maquiba, did you not?”

  Wataru nodded.

  “Then you were there at the time of the fire?”

  “No. When we arrived, it had already gone out.”

  Captain Ronmel’s eyes glinted. “Then you heard the story of the traveling sorcerer—the one who put out the wildfire?”

  Wataru related the tale as he had heard it in Maquiba. The captain listened intently to every word, and the young Knight recorder sitting next to him scribbled furiously in his book.

  “The power of the seawyrm—a water incantation, then,” the captain muttered. “And the sorcerer was a boy as well…”

  “That’s what they said.”

  “Could he be another Traveler, such as yourself?”

  “I believe he is. I think he’s my friend. He came here before me.”

  For some reason a shadow moved across Captain Ronmel’s eyes. Wataru had noticed nothing of the sort when he told the captain he was a Traveler. Why should this news of another Traveler concern him?

  “Have you met this friend of yours here?”

  “No. I thought I might like to though, so I’ve been following him. That’s why we’re going to Lyris.”

  The captain nodded slowly and rubbed his jaw with one hand. His brow furrowed ever so slightly. “You, or rather, Wayfinder Lau…” He glanced at the recorder. “On second thought, don’t write that. It has nothing to do with the matter at hand. I’m sorry to have taken so much of your time,” he said, turning back to Wataru.

  He told them they would examine the overturned cart once dawn broke and then they would head back to Maquiba. They were going to investigate the cause of the wildfire. When Wataru commented how busy they were, the captain shook his head. “We’ve been running ourselves ragged dealing with monsters of late—there always seems to be more, and they grow fiercer every year. Most local peacekeeping and investigations we’ve had to leave to the Highlanders. And of course, that won’t do.”

  “It reminds me of something that Puck was saying,” Meena said. “In the towns they passed through, they always heard one or two stories of people being attacked by monsters. They had never heard such stories before now.”

  “Same here,” Kee Keema nodded. “That’s all people talk about nowadays in the darbaba huts. Stories of mountain-rats, usually quite tame, forming great masses and attacking udai and the like. And then there was that roaming gimblewolf near Gasara.”

  “That’s right. We had to send the Highlanders out with one of our patrols, we were spread so thin,” Captain Ronmel said with a wry smile. “Kutz had a field day with that one. That’s right, you were one of the ones that rode out. Thank you for your help. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Wataru and the others went back to their tent. Kee Keema and Meena fell asleep right away, but Wataru couldn’t get his eyes to shut. He kept thinking about that suspicious shadow he saw briefly across Captain Ronmel’s face. He couldn’t help but think that somewhere hidden in that shadow was the real reason why the Knights had come all the way up into these mountains.

  Maybe I’m thinking too much about it. But then again…

  Wataru was restless, so he got up and quietly slipped outside. Maybe a look at the stars will calm me down.

  Wataru wasn’t the only one out and about. He found Captain Ronmel standing alone a short distance from the campground. His profile toward Wataru, he stood gazing up at the northern sky.

  The captain noticed Wataru right away. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “No. I’m not sure why…”

  “You saw a big accident today. Let the starlight wash it from your eyes.”

  What was the captain doing out here all alone? Why did he look so forlorn? What was he thinking?

  Wataru couldn’t think of the right words to say to him. And he felt like asking questions might be a mistake. This man was one of the most important people in the southern continent. Who was to say he couldn’t look moody now and again when he was alone? Still…

  The two stood there silently side by side. After a short time, they both returned to their tents. Wataru had a bad taste in his mouth, but even if he were asked, he wouldn’t have been able to say why.

  Chapter 16

  Lyris

  When they first looked down upon Lyris from a nearby hill, Wataru had the distinct impression that this was not his first time seeing it-that he had been here before, somehow. Everything looked familiar: the brightly colored peaked roofs on each of the houses, the cathedral with the bell tower, the brick-lined streets, the green trees, the loose, comfortable clothing people wore, the bright smiles on the faces.

  That’s right! It looks just like Wizdom, the town where the Academy of Magic is in the second Eldritch Stone Saga!

  “What a lovely place,” Meena said breathlessly, standing next to him. “No wonder they make such beautiful things here. They need only take a quick look around for inspiration!”

&
nbsp; Their first destination was the Lyris branch of the Highlanders. If they ended up staying awhile, they would need to find some employment.

  “You’re Highlanders? That’s a surprise. I suppose you live long enough, you see all sorts of things,” said the branch chief, an older ankha man with a polished bald spot on his head. He introduced himself as Pam.

  “To tell the truth, my first name’s Tat, but my last name’s Pamskarovmaeltostralasky… Everyone just calls me Pam.”

  There were four Highlanders working for the local branch, all of them ankha. According to Pam, more than eighty percent of Lyris was ankha, with only a smattering of the other races living in town.

  “It’s the ankha who work at crafts. Our fingers and hands are built for that work, you see. And little kitkin ladies and big old waterkin can’t stand the heat by the furnaces for long.”

  Chief Pam was easygoing and a big talker, and he asked them for any news they might’ve heard on the road. It was his first time hearing of the wildfire in Maquiba and the overturned darbaba cart accident, and he listened with eyes wide in surprise. Wataru was amazed by how laid-back he seemed. Like night and day from Kutz.

  “Lyris is a peaceful place, as you can see. The only incidents we have are little things: a child who got lost while picking berries, an explosion at a workshop near the town offices.”

  An explosion seemed like a big thing to Wataru.

  “Just a mishap while making fireworks. There were no injuries, and since it happened at night, it was rather a nice show.”

  There were a number of empty rooms at the branch offices, so they were told to stay there in lieu of lodgings. While they stayed, they could help with town patrols, and there was a regular watch. While they listened to Pam’s explanation, a pretty girl with long black hair brought tea to them.

  “Ah, my daughter, Elza. She helps with the busy work around the branch.”

  “Hello,” the girl said with a smile that made dimples in her cheeks. “You’ve had quite the journey!” Wataru guessed she must be about fifteen or sixteen years old. In real-world terms, she would be a high school student. The color of her skin made Wataru think of the white bowls he often saw at expensive Chinese restaurants—as delicate as flower petals. She was almost too pretty to be believed.

  Suddenly, Wataru found himself thinking of Kaori Daimatsu. Their faces were completely different. But the graceful air to them, like a fairy’s, was quite similar. Theirs was an unearthly beauty.

  I wonder how Kaori is doing?

  A sharp elbow jab in the ribs snapped Wataru out of his reverie. Meena coughed. “Shouldn’t you ask him about Mitsuru?”

  Oh, right. Through sheer force of will, Wataru tore his gaze away from the girl’s face.

  “A sorcerer about your age? Hmm…” Pam scratched his round, bald head. “This isn’t like Gasara, where we check everyone at the town gate. It’s hard to say who’s visiting the town at any given time. You might ask around at the lodges.”

  Too bad. He hadn’t expected finding Mitsuru to be that easy, but still, it was a disappointment.

  “Of course, a boy sorcerer would stand out, and if he’s still staying in Lyris, it shouldn’t take long to track him down—not for us Highlanders.” The chief suggested that they take a walk around and familiarize themselves with the town. There was still time before the scheduled patrols began.

  Kee Keema leaned forward. “Actually, I was hoping we could visit Toni Fanlon’s workshop. Could you tell me where it is?”

  The chief’s eyes suddenly became sinister-looking slits. “Eh? Fanlon?”

  Elza, carrying tea to some of the other Highlanders, let a cup slip from her fingers. It fell on the floor and smashed. “I’m sorry,” she said, hurriedly picking up the pieces. The chief shot a quick glance at her. When he turned back to Kee Keema, the same pleasant smile from before had returned to his face. “If you’re looking for his workshop, it’s off to the north end of the marketplace. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”

  Roughly speaking, the town of Lyris was shaped like an apple. The core was home to the branch and town offices, hospital, school, and the mayor’s private residence. Four large roads ran from the core out to the edges of town, one in each of the cardinal directions. Each of these roads had a name, and the marketplace took up much of Bricklayer Street that led to the north, running along it in a narrow succession of shops and stalls. At the very end of the north road, right where the stem of the apple would be, stood the cathedral with a large bell tower.

  The tower stood high over the cathedral, casting a shadow across the rooftops in the afternoon sun. Completely captured in that shadow, on a small street corner, they found the Fanlon workshop. Here there were several houses crammed tightly together. Each seemed to be leaning in its own direction without any regard for its neighbors. There was no sign of any sort, nor any wares on display. It was a two-story house of old brick that had dried and cracked in the sun over the years. Wind and rain had leached the color from its walls, and the door was a simple, single panel of worn wood.

  The people on the street were very kind, and everyone was happy to show them the way to the workshop. Someone even offered to take them there—it was easy to get lost in the marketplace crowds. When they finally came to the house they couldn’t believe their eyes. How could the most famed jeweler of Lyris, known even in the lands of the Empire to the north, live in such a humble house?

  “Well, nothing left to do but knock, I suppose,” Kee Keema said, making a fist with his massive hand and stepping toward the front entryway. Just then, the door swung out and smacked him directly on the nose.

  “Ouch!”

  Bouncing off Kee Keema’s leathery snout, the door slammed shut into whoever had opened it.

  “Ack!” came a yelp from inside.

  “Ah, many apologies,” Kee Keema said, bowing. A young man stepped out from behind the door, holding his bruised nose with one hand.

  “Hmm? Who might you be?” the youth asked, favoring them with a suspicious glare. He was an ankha, and very tall for his age. He wore a black shirt, black trousers, and a white workman’s apron that reached down to his knees. His glossy black hair was tied in a knot behind his head, and this made him look like a rock star—or maybe somebody from a kung fu movie.

  “Toni Fanlon?” Meena asked cheerfully. “We came here from Gasara hoping we could take a look at some of your crafts.”

  “Customers, are you?” the young man said, rubbing his nose and sounding relieved. “Then come on in. I’m not making anything very special at the moment, but you’re welcome to have a look.”

  He opened the door for Wataru and the others, and then took a step back. “But I must head out on an errand shortly. I’m afraid I can’t welcome you for long…”

  The young man’s eyes narrowed. He was staring at Wataru. Rather, he was staring at the firewyrm armband Wataru wore on his left wrist. “You’re Highlanders?”

  His voice sounded entirely different from a moment before. “You are, aren’t you? That’s the mark of a Highlander, isn’t it?”

  Wataru became suddenly nervous. “Yes. Yes it is.”

  Toni shook his head, his ponytail waving back and forth, and stood in Kee Keema’s path just as he was about to step inside.

  “Then I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave,” he said quickly, his face going pale. His face was ashen and seething with anger.

  “But, but why?”

  “We came all this way…” Meena cut in. “Is there something wrong with Highlanders? Don’t you like them?”

  Lightning flashed across Toni Fanlon’s eyes like two black jewels. “Hah. I take it you’ve not met Chief Pam yet?”

  “We met him, sure,” Kee Keema answered. “We asked him where we could find your workshop.”

  “And he told you?” the man asked, his every word clipped. “You lie!”

  “It’s not a lie. I mean, he only said you were off to the side of the market, he didn’t tell us the exact loc
ation. We had to ask a few people on the way.”

  “It’s true. We want to see your work. I didn’t think we’d be able to buy anything, of course, they must be very expensive…”

  Toni bit his lip and shook his head. “I wouldn’t sell one of my works to a Highlander, or any friend of a Highlander, no matter what the price. No selling, no showing. Now leave.”

  The door shut with a slam.

  The three stood with their mouths open, uncertain how to process this rapid turn of events. Faces peeked out of nearby windows and doors, then quickly withdrew. This must be a common sight, Wataru thought. He heard stifled laughter from somewhere above his head. It seemed like even the cries and pithy market noises drifting from Bricklayer Street mocked them.

  Kee Keema closed his mouth with a snap. “Step aside, please,” he said to Wataru and Meena. They each took a step back.

  “Many thanks,” Kee Keema said with a toothy grin. Then he clenched both hands into fists and stepped back across the narrow road saying “One step, two steps, three steps,” in a loud voice as he paced backward.

  “What are you doing?” Meena asked frantically. The waterkin charged toward the door, answering as he flew past, “I could break through five of these doors!”

  “Wait! No!”

  “Kee Keema!”

  Wataru and Meena tried to tackle him. He growled like a hunting dog and shook them off in two steps. “What?”

  “No violence!”

  “You saw how rude he was? What’s with that attitude? And he calls himself a merchant. Bah! When you meet someone like that, you give them a good whack on the chin, that’s what you do. The Goddess herself don’t stand for that kind of attitude.”

  “Please, wait!” came a girl’s voice from down the street. They turned to see Elza picking up her skirts as she ran toward them, her long hair flowing behind her.

  Breathing heavily, her hand on her chest, she said, “Y-you…Toni, he…”

  “He turned us away at the door,” Kee Keema said, gnashing his sharp teeth. Wataru knew the waterkin was a gentle soul and would never do a girl like Elza any harm, but seeing him there baring his teeth would have given anyone a fright. Elza caught her breath and pleaded with them. She looked on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I should’ve come with you…”