“No, you have forgotten. You need to clear your head and give this some thought,” Mitsuru said with a sigh. Then he picked up his staff in his left hand. “Sorry, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. I can’t sit here waiting for you. Once the designs are delivered to the North, it will only be a matter of time before the invasion begins. Things are bad here now, but they’re going to get much worse before this is all over. Say, how many gemstones do you have? If riots—or war—come to the south, finding them won’t be so easy. You might want to get going.”
“It doesn’t matter. If you get to the Tower of Destiny before I do, it won’t matter if I’ve found the gemstones or not. The one left behind becomes the Half.”
Mitsuru had begun to walk away from the stern, but now he turned back, surprised. “The Half? What’s that?”
So there were some things Mitsuru didn’t know. Wataru was surprised, and at the same time pleased. “A sacrifice from the real world is required to remake the Great Barrier of Light,” Wataru said simply. He hadn’t bothered to go into all the detail, but it seemed that Mitsuru understood.
“I see,” he said curtly, nodding. His eyes were wide open.
For the space of a breath, there was silence. Seabirds cried in the distance.
Then Mitsuru continued, as calmly as before, “Then I must hurry all the more. It’s apparent that our best interests lie contrary to each other. Now it seems that there will be a winner and a loser in our little contest. We can’t both win, Wataru. That’s a stroke of bad luck, eh?”
Wataru wasn’t sure what reaction he had expected. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture Mitsuru looking alarmed, let alone frightened. In the end, his reaction was quintessentially Mitsuru. Mitsuru had come to Vision and become stronger.
Wataru blinked back tears. He told himself he wasn’t sad. It’s the sea breeze. It’s the dust stirred up by the twisters.
“Wataru.”
Meena stood standing by his side. Kee Keema was there too.
“What you just said…is it true?” Meena asked, her voice trembling. Wataru nodded quietly.
“That’s ridiculous,” Kee Keema growled. His voice seemed tiny in comparison to his giant frame. “I don’t believe it. Not a word. I don’t believe the Goddess would ever choose you as a sacrifice!”
Wataru looked up into Kee Keema’s big face. He found comfort in those round, kind eyes.
“But you believe that someone from Vision must be sacrificed, don’t you? It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not the same!”
“It is. The only difference is that, in Vision, one is chosen from many, and from the real world, well, it’s just me and Mitsuru to choose from.”
Wataru grabbed Kee Keema’s arm. “The Elder in Sakawa, he knew this. He told me I shouldn’t stray from my course.”
Suddenly, it seemed like Kee Keema had shrunk a full size. “The Elder…” the big waterkin fell silent.
I’m sorry, Kee Keema.
“When did you know this? Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We’re your friends!”
“I know.”
“If we knew earlier, then me and Meena, well, we would have moved quicker, so you could meet the Goddess sooner…we want to help you.”
Kee Keema’s eyes were watering. Wataru felt his own eyes begin to tear up. He jerked his head back toward the sailship. “Mitsuru!”
“What is it now?”
“What would you do if I…” Even as he asked the question, Wataru knew the answer. Why do I do this to myself? “What if I said that I don’t care about peace in the south? What if I told you that I came here to get those blueprints just to stop you from getting your final gemstone? What then?”
“What then?”
“What would you do?”
Mitsuru replied without a moment’s hesitation, his voice clear and strong. “Then I would’ve faced you.” In battle. Mitsuru stared directly into Wataru’s eyes. “And I would’ve won. I’m stronger. We both know that.”
The strength was sapped from Wataru’s body. Meena, unable to restrain herself any longer, ran to his side for support. Addressing Mitsuru, she shouted, “You call yourself a friend? Do you even have a heart?”
Mitsuru stood smiling, both hands on his staff. He didn’t even look in Meena’s direction.
He lifted the gemstone-tipped staff above his head and began to chant. His voice was too low to be heard from where they stood, but the effect of his words soon became clear.
This spheres of wind hovering above the sea began to stir. They broke apart for a second before coming together as one. Soon they had transformed into a great cloak of wind, wrapping itself around the sailship. Gently, Mitsuru’s sailship rose from the surface of the sea. Riding on a platform of wind, it lifted into the air.
Wataru looked up and made eye contact with Mitsuru. “Goodbye,” he heard him say.
The cloak of wind around the ship undulated, then extended, becoming a tube that stretched out over the endless sea. The sailship carrying Mitsuru slid along it, disappearing into the distance.
Wataru watched it recede, becoming smaller, and finally disappearing where the sky and the sea became one.
He’s gone.
“They’re already out to sea,” Kee Keema said, stunned. “If they can ride like that, there’s no way we’ll catch them by sailship. Once they’re out on the open water, even if his magic runs out, they’ll have the wind in their sails to take them to the north.”
Meena grasped Wataru’s arm with a trembling hand.
—Goodbye.
Wataru had seen a light flash deep in Mitsuru’s eyes. It was a spark, he thought, that reflected an ongoing internal conflict. Despite what he said, Mitsuru was still grappling with a difficult moral dilemma. Would he do the right thing or continue pursuing his personal agenda?
Or maybe there wasn’t a light in his eyes at all. Maybe the conflict was in me—between the half of me that’s given up already, and the other half of me that wants to win. Who’s right? Me or Mitsuru?
So, Wataru thought, which is it?
Chapter 41
Night in Gasara
Twilight wrapped itself in a curtain around the town of Gasara.
The large gate at its entrance was closed. Here and there on the giant wall circling the town, torches burned and sputtered, shooting sparks into the sky. There seemed to be more torches now than when Wataru had last been here. There’s a need for more security, I guess.
Still, even in the midst of all the Halnera turmoil, there had been little rioting in Gasara. More or less, it was business as usual for everyone.
Initially, there had been some fear that Gasara would be susceptible to infiltrators from the North. Because the town was a popular destination point for traders, many believed outsiders would attempt to spread the tenets of the Old God. Yet that was not the case. People who knew the real conditions in the North were less susceptible to rumors. The ankha in Gasara knew first-hand that simple faith in the Old God wouldn’t save them from Halnera.
Most significantly, Gasara had Kutz the Rosethorn, widely regarded as the toughest branch chief in the land. That alone was a huge difference from Lyris. The truth about Halnera didn’t faze her, nor did she let it concern the people in her town. If the Goddess must choose someone to protect Vision, what business was it of theirs to protest? The one chosen by the Goddess was given a great and important task. They should be proud, not quivering with fear.
When people came to her, frightened and worried, she would laugh them away. “Don’t be so obsessed with yourself. The Goddess sees all. I hardly think she would rely on a sniveling coward who’s afraid to die for such a vital task. Sorry, chap, but you were never in the running to be the sacrifice.”
Wataru stood on the watchtower, looking down on the town. The top level was about six stories high. The guard had warned him when he started climbing the ladder.
“If you must climb to the top, boy, I won’t stop you. Just remember, once you start c
limbing, don’t look down until you’re all the way to the top.”
“Sure thing.”
“You can still turn back, you know.”
“I like heights.”
“Suit yourself.”
Following the guard’s advice, Wataru didn’t look down as he climbed. When he reached the top platform, he stretched his arms and legs, feeling the evening breeze against his cheek. When he looked down he felt himself swoon. Thankfully there was a railing to hold on to.
The guard behind him wore a rope around his waist, carried a megaphone made of copper over his shoulder, and stood with his arms crossed. Every five minutes, he turned to look east, west, south, and north. Three guards per day took turns watching over the town.
Lamps flared in the countless windows of Gasara. Already the lively sounds of customers talking and laughing spilled out of taverns and lodgings. Steam rose from various windows, and the hearty smell of stew drifted through the air. At their post, darbaba stood freshly washed and fed, the dirt of their long journey cleaned away. Next to them, a group of waterkin sat around talking and smoking. From somewhere came the sound of a stringed instrument being plucked.
Wataru turned his eyes beyond the town walls to look out on the vast grasslands surrounding Gasara. Here and there, he could see outcroppings of rock in between darker patches where copses stood. Everything was dyed a dark pink by the setting sun, still and silent at the ending of the day. A flock of birds like dark specks shot across the sky, disappearing toward the forest in the distance.
Wataru took a deep breath, resting his elbows on the railing, and looked up at the night sky.
The Blood Star.
It shone a brilliant crimson. Yet, perhaps on account of the twilight, it did not look so ominous tonight. If Wataru reached out and plucked it from the night sky, it would make a nice pendant for Meena.
Wataru stared at it for a long time, trying not to blink. The Blood Star winked first. Wataru felt like it was smiling at him. What are you so worried about, boy?
Wataru, Kee Keema, and Meena had come back to Gasara after their confrontation with Mitsuru in Sono. Once it became clear that Wataru would become one of the sacrifices, there was nothing to do but wait. And if that was to be his fate, Wataru wanted to wait here, in the first town he had come to in Vision, where he had met his friends, where he had taken the Highlander’s oath.
Meena had cried a lot on the road from Sono. Kee Keema had been silent for the most part, and it seemed like his darbaba, too, was grumpier than usual.
Wataru asked Meena to sing for him. She had always sung earlier on in their trip, swinging back and forth on the darbaba cart. Meena nodded and began to sing in her beautiful voice. But before she could finish her first song, her voice choked, and she veered off key.
Then Wataru tried to sing. He would attempt one of Meena’s songs, or sometimes, he would sing a song he remembered from the real world.
Back in Gasara, Kee Keema reunited with the other darbaba drivers and went out on patrol with the Highlanders. Meena worked with the dog-eared doctor at the small hospital in town. Wataru once again started working for Kutz, going on patrols like Kee Keema or helping Trone with his paperwork.
“Been busy of late. Haven’t had much time to sift through all these files,” Trone explained, though it was clear he just didn’t like doing paperwork. But he did enjoy making others do his paperwork for him.
After their return, Wataru told Kutz everything. He wasn’t expecting any sympathy. He just wanted her to know the details, so that she would be prepared when word got out that he was to be chosen.
As expected, Kutz didn’t seem particularly concerned. “Understood,” she said simply. “Living in a lodge isn’t very comfortable, I’d imagine. Why don’t you move in here. There’s a storeroom on the second floor; you can clean it up and stay there if you like. If you need anything else, just tell Trone, and he’ll get it for you.”
And that was all.
When the time comes. Kutz said it as though she were talking about going shopping for groceries or making an appointment. After that, she made not a mention of Halnera or the sacrifice—which Wataru took to be her way of showing that she cared.
Wataru had climbed the watchtower because he wanted to see the Blood Star from as close as possible. I’m not scared—which was a lie, but he had made his peace with what was to come. He wanted to let the Blood Star know. Maybe it is a lie. Maybe I really am frightened. He wasn’t sure himself. That’s why he felt he had to say it. If he stood up there, looked the Blood Star in the eye, and was able to say it, it would become true. A least, he hoped it would.
It had already been eight days since their encounter with Mitsuru in Sono. He was probably already in the north by now. Try as he might, there was no way Wataru could hope to catch up. Two minus one was one. That’s all he could think about. In fact, he made himself think about it. There was nothing else for him to do.
Above his head, the Blood Star winked and sparkled. Its rhythm seemed steady, no alteration in the pattern. When would Halnera end? It sure is taking her a long time to choose her other sacrifice.
“Oh?” The tower guard grunted suddenly, walking over to put a hand on the top of the ladder. “To what do we owe this unexpected honor?”
It was Kutz. She had three steps left to climb on the ladder, but instead of taking the guard’s outstretched hand, she jumped up, springing over the railing to land on top of the platform. The black leather whip hanging at her waist shone with a lustrous gleam in the twilight. For those who didn’t know the considerable skill with which she wielded it, the weapon might have looked like nothing more than a curious fashion statement, so well did it match her leather attire.
“I came to watch the sunset. I get romantic sometimes too, you know.”
Kutz had changed the style of her hair while Wataru was away from Gasara. Previously cut short, her hair now came down over her neck. She looked good. Her right shinguard and the firewyrm band on her left wrist served as crimson accents to her otherwise black leather garb.
“What’s with you? You look shocked,” Kutz chided, with her hand at her waist and her head tilted. “Stunned by my beauty, is that it? I should think you’d be used to it by now.”
Wataru blushed. He had been stunned, it was true. Kutz was beautiful, there was no denying it. If he hadn’t come to Vision, Wataru was sure he never would have met a woman as gorgeous, and as capable, as she was.
She turned to the guard who stood chuckling at the edge of the platform. “I’d like to have a few words with the boy here. Can I borrow your post awhile?”
“Of course,” the guard nodded. Picking up his copper megaphone, he passed it to Wataru. “Then I’ll let you hold on to this while you’re here.”
“Right. I’ll let you know if I see anything.”
“That’ll do just fine,” the guard said, disappearing down the ladder.
Kutz walked over and leaned her elbows on the railing. She looked out over the grasslands in the fading light. “This your first time up here?”
“Yes.”
“Great view, isn’t it? I think this is my favorite spot in town.”
“I like it too.”
“You should see the sunrise. Even when it’s raining, or there’s a mist, the view from here never disappoints.”
Kutz shook her head, brushing the hair out of her eyes, and looked up at the night sky. “I was born in a small frontier town in the mountains. Nothing but fields cut into the mountainside and a few simple huts in the middle of a little forest. I remember when I first came out to Gasara and saw the grasslands. What a shock that was. I never imagined the world could be so vast.”
This was the first time Kutz had ever spoken of her home. Wataru wondered if she had left by herself. How old had she been? Did she have some reason for leaving?
Kutz didn’t say anything else. She and Wataru stood side by side in comfortable silence. After some time had passed, Kutz suddenly spoke. “Got a lot of
nerve, don’t you.”
Wataru spun around. “What?”
“Not you. That,” she said, pointing a finger at the Blood Star hanging in the northern sky. “Shining all pretty up there like a jewel. Too high up for anyone to grab and put in its place.”
Wataru smiled. “I bet your whip might just be able to reach it.”
“I’ve got half a mind to try,” Kutz said, her hand going down to the hilt of the whip quelled at her belt. Then she grinned and looked at Wataru.
Her eyes weren’t smiling. They were frighteningly serious. The smile faded from Wataru’s face.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she said, making it sound like less of a question and more of a confirmation. I know how you’ll answer, I’m just making sure.
“Yeah…I think.”
“You give up easy.”
Wataru shrugged. “I guess I feel like there’s nothing I can do, so why bother?” Wataru hunched his shoulders, thrusting his hands in his pockets. His fingers brushed the edge of the wyrmflute. “On the road back to Gasara I was tempted a few times to call Jozo and try my chances at following after Mitsuru. I could get to the north if I was riding on a dragon. But even if I did catch up with Mitsuru, I don’t think I could beat him. His magic is too powerful.”
And Wataru was one gemstone behind.
“In any case, I’m too late. I have to accept my fate—and not worry about it so much.”
Kutz stood with her arms folded in front of her. Her leather vest bulged out above her arms. Wataru stared, then blushed, and hurriedly continued, “I’m not one of many, like whoever the sacrifice from Vision is to be. I’m only one of two. I guess that makes it easier to accept.”
Kutz said nothing. Pulling a cigarette from her vest pocket, she lit it with a match, puffing in the twilight.
“Also…I don’t think I’ve told anyone this before, but the whole reason I came here to Vision in the first place was thanks to my friend—the other Traveler, Mitsuru. That’s not all. If he hadn’t come to save me, I would’ve died. Twice—once in the real world and once in Vision. He saved my life.”