It was said that if one ground a stag’s horns into powder, one could gain the wisdom of the forest. With its unfathomably black eyes, the stag regarded him.

  It was considering something.

  What was it thinking?

  No sooner did Klass wonder this than the stag’s eyes glared at something else—Aryes, her hands folded in prayer.

  Klass felt on the verge of vomiting. Aryes had not run. Or perhaps she had simply lacked the strength to.

  Aryes noticed the great stag’s gaze on her.

  The stag moved. Turning about to face her, it stamped the ground three times like a horse, lowering its head

  “—!” Klass had no idea what he said.

  He moved as though someone behind him had given him a shove.

  His staff in one hand, he ran as fast as he could. There were countless tree roots, puddles, and divots left behind by the beast’s footsteps, but Klass looked at none of them, his gaze fixed on the stag as he sprinted.

  Then, facing the head of the stag, whose lunge was like the mountain itself deciding to move, he leaped at it with strength anew—brandishing his staff in his right hand like it was the hero’s spear before it pierced the giant’s eye.

  “Aaaaaauuoh!”

  There was a dull krack.

  It came from around his right arm, so at first Klass thought he’d broken it.

  He hadn’t given the slightest thought to his landing, so he brushed by the stag’s chin as he leaped straight into the underbrush.

  He was on the verge of losing consciousness, but the sound of something huge falling behind him brought him back to full alertness.

  Bellowing in what might have been pain, the stag howled a hair-raising howl as its hooves crashed into the ground.

  When he finally raised his head, he saw—past the stag, slipping as it struggled to stand—Aryes, whose gaze was fixed on the beast.

  “Aryes!” Klass called her name and ran toward her. She looked at him, surprised, before her eyes returned to the stag. “Aryes, we’ve got to run!”

  “B-but, his eye...”

  Klass was past anger and had to smile at Aryes, who was worried about the great stag’s eye when it had killed Holo and tried to kill her as well.

  He couldn’t be angry at her.

  She was Aryes after all.

  “We’ve got to hurry! If we’re followed, there’ll be nothing we can do!”

  As soon as Klass finished saying this, the stag raised another bellow.

  Klass flinched and turned to look. He saw that the stag had stumbled in a stream and fallen.

  A sound like a landslide echoed across the forest; then there was a great noise that reverberated in his chest.

  “Ha-ha-ha, we did it! Come, Aryes! Let’s go!”

  “Ah, er, b-but—”

  Klass went to Aryes and took her hand, but she did not stand.

  Her troubled face made Klass wonder if her feet were stuck in the mud.

  “Can’t you walk? Come—”

  Klass wrapped the right arm he’d only just feared was broken around Aryes’s back and slid his left under her legs.

  This was how the hero always rescued the princess.

  Despite her troubled expression, Aryes leaned into Klass’s arms as though she’d practiced this many times.

  “O-oof.”

  Compared with straw bales bound tight and hard as rocks, Aryes’s body was like cotton.

  That said, running like this was impossible, and Klass took careful steps, his trembling knees protesting.

  He would carry her; he would escape the stag, get out of the forest, and reach the town.

  Klass murmured this inwardly as Aryes’s legs slipped free of his left arm, and he grit his teeth and summoned more strength.

  It was a shame about Holo.

  He’d hating her teasing, but in a very short time, she’d become like an elder sister to him.

  He decided that once they’d reached the town and recovered, he’d come back in search of her body and give her a proper burial. And if he ran into the stag again, well—he’d take more than its eye.

  Aryes’s legs had escaped his arm again, and though they touched the ground, Klass had no strength in his left arm, and his legs felt so heavy they might as well have been tangled in roots—he could no longer move them at all.

  And yet in Klass’s mind, he could see a brilliant future, and he planned to face it, to head into it.

  “P-please, just...,” said Aryes about to cry, still somehow managing to cling to him. Klass smiled softly, finally stopped now.

  “Sorry. You... go on ahead.”

  And as though saying it had taken the last of his strength, Klass collapsed on the spot.

  He heard the thud of his fall as though at a great distance, and though his face was half submerged in muddy water, he could not move a muscle.

  Aryes was crying something out, but he could not hear.

  The falling rain felt like a warm bath.

  “Run,” Klass murmured.

  Run. We’ll meet again at the town’s inn.

  That’s what he’d meant to say somewhere in his distant con­sciousness.

  Aryes—she, at least, needed to escape.

  Aryes, at least.

  Because—

  Klass closed his eyes.

  Because—he loved her so very much.

  There was a sweet scent.

  Was it food?

  He tried to remember but could not.

  He could tell it was the scent of something he liked very much, but for the life of him, he could not remember what it was.

  And there was the question of where exactly this was.

  It was dark, and he couldn’t see anything.

  His body did not move; it felt like he was submerged in very heavy water.

  But that sweet, sweet scent enveloped his thoughts, and so such concerns seemed unimportant.

  He wanted to stay inside this sweet scent forever.

  This... sweet…

  “Wha—?” Klass cried out as he jolted awake.

  He swiveled his head this way and that, searching desperately with eyes that refused to focus.

  When he saw her, she looked about to cry, surely because he’d suddenly sat up and opened his eyes.

  “Ar-Aryes..

  “G-good morning,” said Aryes, swallowing nervously, looking strangely on guard. She slowly reached her hand out. “How... how do you feel?”

  Her hand touched his cheek, and he instantly groaned in pain.

  Aryes snatched her hand away as though she’d burned it, tearfully apologizing.

  Klass tried touching his own face.

  It was swollen all over, and his hand was covered in cuts, too.

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha, I’m a mess,” he said with a laugh, then winced. Aryes’s worried face changed to a smile, and she laughed, too, but then began crying. “Wha... ? No, er, d-don’t... don’t cry!”

  Klass hastily grabbed Aryes’s shoulders, then stroked her head.

  Surprised at himself for so casually doing such things, he was very happy to see that Aryes seemed not in the least upset by them.

  “I’m all right—see?” he said, trying to reassure the sobbing Aryes, who nodded several times, then burst out crying again.

  Not knowing what else to do, he decided to wait for her to cry herself out.

  Klass finally looked at his surroundings and wondered.

  Where exactly was this?

  Light came in from behind him, and in front of him was something like a wall made of dark wood, on which grew a scattering of moss. He cast his gaze around his visible environs, and he seemed to be in some sort of dome, although the floor was covered in dry straw. He knew one thing for sure—this was not the town.

  What was going on?

  Just as he was trying to figure it out—

  “Hmph,” said a familiar voice.

  “Wha—?” He tried to look back, but Aryes was still clinging to him, so he wound up losing hi
s posture and toppling backward. “Oww...”

  He tried to sit back up, but Aryes was still firmly attached, making movement impossible. And anyway, trying to move seemed like a waste. Aryes looked slender, but she was surprisingly solid, and Klass lay faceup beneath the weight of her body, gazing vaguely up at the ceiling. And then something popped into his field of vision—a face looking back at him, a face he couldn’t believe was there.

  “Heh. Seems you’re in the middle of something, eh?”

  “Ah—wha—?”

  “What’s that? Only one girl embracing you upon awakening isn’t enough?”

  Completely ignoring her usual teasing, Klass cried out the name that rose up in his chest. “Miss Holo!”

  “You needn’t shout so; I can hear you well enough.” Unconcerned with her scowl, Klass continued. “B-but, I—I thought you were—”

  “Dead, you say?” Her smile was so fearless it seemed like even if killed, she wouldn’t die.

  And yet the fearsome sound of those great millstone teeth grinding still echoed through Klass’s ears.

  He was so sure she’d been chewed up, crushed.

  “Heh-heh. You heard the lad,” said Holo, looking over her shoulder, and suddenly a great shadow fell over the light.

  Klass had no words to describe the shock he felt.

  Behind Holo, at the entrance to the cave, appeared the face of the great stag he thought he’d killed.

  The eye he was sure he’d stabbed glittered like polished onyx, and when he met its gaze, it blinked once at him as though by way of greeting.

  “A human child... with such courage. How many centuries... has it been... since I’ve... had... such fun...? The words came with difficulty, and the great mouth twisted in an odd expres­sion.

  Klass realized it was a smile, and his chest burned. “It...it can't be..

  He pushed Aryes off him. Her eyes were moist with tears, and she looked deeply apologetic.

  “You fool. Just who did you think you were attacking?” Holo smacked his head, and he faced her. The stag seemed to have retreated—in any case, it was gone. “I suppose the deer got a bit overenthused and played their part up rather more than Id planned. Honestly, even I couldn’t put them off it.”

  Holo grinned ruefully, and from somewhere far off, there was a short howl.

  Had Holo planned everything?

  Suddenly Klass could see it.

  It had been so slow to bring its hooves down, but its movement when dodging his staff was swift indeed.

  But did that mean that Aryes’s look of terror when she’d been about to be trampled was a lie?

  Klass looked at her, feeling suddenly betrayed, when Holo smacked his head again. “If you start doubting such things in matters like these, you truly are a fool.”

  She’d hit him with some force, and his scalp smarted.

  When he thought about it like that, he realized that Aryes’s face had been genuine.

  Even if she’d known the stag was merely acting, she could easily have still been afraid.

  Klass had to admit that even if he’d known it would be all right, he might well have been nonetheless terrified before that presence.

  And even now, she looked very apologetic.

  As he looked at her, he wondered when Holo had found the time to explain the plan to her.

  Hed been the only one fighting in earnest ignorance.

  “Heh-heh. Still, you were quite gallant. Was he not?” Holo squatted down, propped her elbows on her knees, and thrust the staff, grinning.

  Aryes wiped the corners of her eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t... say anything... but...” As she talked, she started to cry again.

  Klass found not a trace of anger within himself, and he took Aryes’s hand. “It’s okay, really. I’m just glad we’re safe...”

  “... All right.” As she nodded, a few tears dropped to the ground, and Klass realized something that had been bothering him.

  “Oh-”

  “Hmm?”

  “What about our pursuers?” Klass asked, raising his head.

  “Pursuers?” Holo returned the question, then made a pained face as she realized her mistake.

  “W-wait, don’t tell me that was a lie, too—”

  “Heh-heh-heh,” Holo chuckled and swished her tail.

  When he looked at Aryes, he saw she was again wearing an apologetic look on her face.

  He relaxed his neck and let his head fall back down to the floor, unconcerned with the thunk it made.

  “Now then, we can’t very well stay in this den forever—we must go out. There lies holy forest ground the likes of which few humans will ever see.” Holo stood and cracked her neck.

  “Holy... forest ground?”

  “Aye. It’s quite a sight, is it not?” These words were directed at Aryes, who nodded firmly.

  It had to be something to see.

  “The sun’s been long up. Let us go and bask—your warrior tale will make a fine appetizer when considering what to do next. After all,”—Holo put her hand on her hip and flicked her tail—“the three of us have a journey ahead of us.”

  She grinned and walked off.

  He could hardly be disappointed that she was safe.

  And yet he couldn’t help but wonder if she would play a trick like this on him again.

  In any case, he wanted to see the holy forest ground.

  What was so special about it, he wondered.

  “So, this holy ground—was it really so great?” he asked Aryes as she helped him sit up, which she thought about for a moment, then nodded.

  “I suppose...” She seemed to be seriously considering it, which lessened the joke. “Still...,” she said, looking Klass straight in the eye.

  His heart thumped painfully and not from any of his injuries.

  And now he knew why.

  “I’d rather visit the sea.”

  At this, Klass could no longer resist the smile that split his face.

  Forgetting the pain it caused, he grinned and nodded.

  Aryes then looked past Klass to something behind him. He got the feeling that whoever was there was looking at him and nodding, but he didn’t care.

  Someone rather clever and nosy had probably told Aryes to say it, but he was sure her words weren’t a lie.

  Hed found within himself the strength to believe that.

  “Well, shall we go?” Klass took Aryes’s hand and stood.

  Just as he turned around, he saw Holo’s tail flick and disappear into shadow.

  That soft, silky, sweet-smelling tail. He thought about getting Holo to let him sleep upon it one more time by way of apology for overdoing her tricks.

  It was so comforting, he felt it would be a fair trade.

  He looked back over his shoulder as he thought about it.

  “Hmm?” Aryes asked. He was surprised. Had he accidentally said it out loud? Not replying, he started walking.

  Out of the den’s opening, he went out into the light, holding Aryes’s hand.

  He thought about the saying “He who chases two rabbits catches neither.”

  But he had a wolf on one side and a sheep on the other, so...

  “Shall I guess what you are thinking?” said a reproachful voice from behind him.

  He was too scared to turn around.

  There before him in a sunlit garden too beautiful for any painting, Holo basked in the rays of light, holding herself as she shook with mirth.

  The End

  Realizing it had suddenly become quiet, Lawrence looked up.

  But the street noise that entered along with sunlight through the open window hadn’t changed.

  So why had it suddenly turned so quiet? He put a bundle of sheepskins that his eyes lit upon in order, then cracked his neck.

  A girl on the bed wiped her mouth. Perhaps that was the cause.

  “So you were eating all along... ? How many did you have?”

  The girl, Holo, who had beautiful chestnut hair that would be
the envy of any noblewoman, flicked her wolf ears, then counted on her fingers. “Ten and... seven. No, nine.”

  “And what’s left?”

  This time she flicked her tail, a tail that would’ve caused any furrier to drool with envy.

  The gesture made her seem like a scolded puppy.

  “...E-eight...”

  “Eight?”

  “Eighty... one.”

  Lawrence sighed, and Holo’s expression shifted completely; she glared at him. “You’re going to ask me if I’m going to eat them all.”

  “I haven’t said anything yet.”

  “So what was to follow that sigh, eh?”

  After a short pause, Lawrence answered. “Can you eat them all?”

  Letting Holo’s glare wash over him, Lawrence returned his attention to the bundle of sheepskins before him, trying to tie it up with some twine before remembering that he couldn’t use his left hand.

  This was because in some recent unpleasantness, he’d blundered into getting stabbed.

  Nevertheless, the disturbance had had the effect of creating a new and priceless bond between him and Holo, whom he’d happened to meet earlier in his travels.

  When he thought about it like that, it was cheap indeed, he reminded himself, standing up from a chair.

  There was a pile of wooden crates filled with apples in the corner of the room. The bill was for 120 apples, but—including today’s count—thirty-nine had been eaten.

  Even if they were her favorite food, eating them all before they spoiled would be no mean feat.

  “You don’t have to be so stubborn,” said Lawrence.

  “I’m not being stubborn.”

  “Really?”

  Holo turned away sullenly, every bit as childish as her appearance would lead one to expect, even though she’d lived scores of years longer than Lawrence and was a centuries-old wolf spirit who dwelled in wheat and could yield whatever harvest she saw fit.

  But she remained that way for only a moment, finally laying her wolf ears back in defeat. “...The truth is... I’m a bit full of them...”

  Knowing he’d rouse her anger if he laughed at her, Lawrence merely agreed. “I’ll bet. Even if they’re your favorite food, that’s a lot of apples.”

  “Still-”

  “Hmm?”

  “Still, I swear I’ll eat them all.”

  Unlike when she’d given him that angry glare, she said this with what seemed like grim determination.