Brave Story (115 page)

“Katchan,” Wataru said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Katchan flew out of his chair so fast he knocked Wataru backward. Katchan’s eyes were as large as chestnuts. His mouth opened wide.

“Sorry to scare you.”

At the sound of Wataru’s voice, all color drained from Katchan’s face. Even his tan seemed to fade in an instant. “Wa-Wa-Wa…”

Wataru smiled.

“Wa-Wataru, is that really you?!”

He nodded. “Yup, it’s me.”

Katchan hugged him. Before he knew it, Wataru was crying.

“Where have you been? What happened to you? Where did you go?” Katchan fired question after question at his friend, shaking him by the arms.

“I’m sorry, Katchan. I can’t talk about everything right now. I don’t have time.”

“Huh? What’s that?”

Wataru grabbed his friend by the arms. “Look, I need you to do something for me. These birds…” The two birds were flapping their wings, clinging desperately to Wataru’s shoulders. He could feel tiny claws pricking his skin. “Can you release them for me—just let them out the window or something? That’s all you have to do. You’re the only one I can ask to do this, Katchan. Please?”

Katchan’s eyes were swimming. He looked like he might pass out.

Wataru reached out to steady him. “Stay with me, now.”

Katchan’s head wobbled on his neck. When he spoke, his voice was barely a squeak. “Why’re you dressed so funny?”

Wataru laughed.

“You look like a character out of
Eldritch Stone Saga
or something.”

“I guess I do. Look, I’ll explain later—once I’m home for good. I’ll tell you everything. I’m just in kind of a hurry right now.”

Wataru gently picked up the white bird and held it out to his friend. Katchan loved animals. As disoriented as he was, he picked up the little bird with natural ease. “Where’d you catch this?”

“Actually, I freed it.”

Katchan gave the bird a pat on the head with a tan hand. “I think I’m dreaming,” he muttered.

“Probably not far from the truth. Open the window, quick.”

Katchan shuffled across the room, carrying the white bird on the palm of his right hand, using his left to open the door to the balcony.

He stuck his hand out, and the white bird flapped its wings a few times, then suddenly took off. It swept past the railing and disappeared into the night sky.

“Now this one,” Wataru said, holding out the black bird. The bird panicked, missing Katchan’s hand and instead flying straight up to smack into his forehead.

“What’s with you?” Katchan said, waving his hand around and snatching the bird out of the air.

“Whoa! Watch out! Don’t crush it!” Then Wataru laughed. “Well, maybe you can crush it just a little. This one’s given us a lot of trouble.”

“This bird? Us?” Katchan’s eyes were rolling in his head again.

“Yeah. But, we still have to let it go.” The black bird didn’t fly so well. First it slammed into the railing, then it came to rest on the laundry pole where it strutted and fretted for a while. Katchan leaned out and swiped at the bird with his hand, knocking it into the air. At last, the little black bird took wing and sped off into the night.

“That all you wanted?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Wataru felt a great weight lift off his chest. He took a deep breath, smelling the familiar smells of Katchan’s room.

“Wataru…” Katchan began, sniffling.

“Thanks. I-I gotta go back.”

Somewhere, far down the Corridor of Light, a bell was ringing.

“Go back? Back where? What’s happened to you?”

I’m sorry, I can’t say anymore.
Wataru felt his resolve strengthen anew.
I have to get back to explain everything to Katchan, to tell him the story of all my adventures in Vision.

“I’ll be back soon, promise. Wait for me.”

Wataru stepped back toward the corridor. Katchan reached out to grab him, but then the strength left his arm and his hand dropped. “Wataru!”

Wataru could hear Katchan calling for him all the way back down the corridor.

Back at the sigil, back in the crystal city. Wataru was alone again.

Time to go meet Mitsuru.

Chapter 54
The Last Fight

Wataru walked on through the crystalline collage of all the towns and villages he had seen in Vision.
Eventually he came upon a vast ruin that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The Imperial Capital of Solebria.

There was no mistaking the crumbled city wall and the flattened houses. Everything was fashioned from the same crystal, making the broken pillars and the stripped roofs more otherworldly. In a way, the cityscape was even more beautiful than anything he had seen thus far.

If the shapes had been abstract, it would have truly been a work of art. As it was, Wataru lacked the words to express the irony of the view, but he could taste it like a bitter tang in the back of his throat. He hadn’t been able to properly process the destruction of the real Solebria—the wounds were still too fresh in his mind. Though the translucent crystal rubble neutralized the feeling of tragedy, it could not lessen the rage, fear, and sadness he continued to feel.

He wondered what Meena and Kee Keema were doing. Did they make it safely to the Isle of Dragon? Had the south been warned about the demonkin invasion?

Wataru lowered his eyes and ran. He ran and ran and ran until something large and looming blocked his path. He had been going so fast he nearly collided with it. He caught his breath and looked up.

It was a large gate. It looked like the front gates to the Crystal Palace. Here, in this precise model of Solebria, the gates to the Imperial Palace stood impossibly unblemished.

For a moment, Wataru recalled the Porta Nectere. These gates were far smaller than the real thing.

The intricate crest carved in the middle of each door was most likely that of the Imperial Family. It looked kind of like a star chart with all the paths of the celestial bodies. Also included were a sword and shield, a night and dragon, and above it all, a single crown.

Wataru pushed and pulled at the doors, but they wouldn’t budge.
A dead end.

He looked around, but saw nothing resembling a way out through the sparkling sea of rubble surrounding him. If he couldn’t get through the double doors, he wouldn’t be going any farther.

He contemplated climbing the gate, but soon gave up the idea. It was far too slippery for him to get a good grip.

How am I supposed to get beyond this point?

Scratching his head and walking in circles, Wataru felt his anger and frustration grow. He gave the door a swift kick.

Ouch! That hurt.
Wataru looked down at his throbbing foot and saw the faint outline of a pattern or diagram on the ground. It vaguely resembled the Corridor of Light star sigil he had seen many times before. But this pattern was only about half the size of a manhole.

Wataru looked around and found others—he counted five in all. They were all laid out in a semi-circle in front of the gate.

He tried placing his feet on one of the patterns.

Suddenly Wataru felt an inexplicable joy well up inside his chest. He could hear laughter ringing in his ears.
Who is that? What is this?
He jumped back, startled, and the laughter faded.

He did it again and the same thing happened. He stepped onto another diagram and suddenly he felt angry. And just like before, the feeling disappeared when he jumped away.

The next pattern made him sad. The fourth made him so happy he wanted to skip.

But the fifth pattern did nothing.

Wataru carefully stepped away from the fifth pattern and folded his arms across his chest.

Joy, anger, sadness, and happiness. One emotion for each pattern.

It’s just like the huts in the Village of the Watchers!
Wayfinder Lau had been mad in the Hut of Anger, sad in the Hut of Sorrow, and gentle in the Hut of Kindness—all so his own mood wouldn’t influence how he treated each Traveler who came to him.

Maybe this works something like that. Each pattern has an emotion associated with it. It must be some sort of riddle—but what?

Joy.
Wataru stood on the first of the patterns, closed his eyes, and searched his heart. He thought about things that had brought him joy in Vision. Kee Keema loomed in his mind’s eye. He remembered meeting him for the first time in the grasslands the day he left the Village of the Watchers.

“Oy! Ooooy! You there!”

That cheerful voice, and the darbaba cart racing across the grasslands, sending up a trail of dust into the sky.

“Don’t eat too many o’ those baquas now, y’hear?”

How he had been overjoyed when he heard Wataru was a Traveler—his “good luck charm.” He picked Wataru up, tossed him in the air. Now that was joy—without a doubt, the first joy Wataru had experienced since arriving in Vision. He had done nothing but worry about what he’d gotten himself into until that moment.

There was a dull clunk, and the pattern disappeared from beneath his feet. Wataru blinked. At the same time, a sliding noise came from the gate, as though a bolt had been released.

I guess I’ve cleared the first pattern.

The next was anger. He stepped on the pattern, and without even consciously thinking of it, an image came to mind. It was of the two ankha boys who had tricked Meena into helping them steal, then snuck into her hospital room and threatened her. Wataru could feel his skin burn just remembering it. He had dived through the window, forgetting his own safety in order to save her.

Thunk.
The pattern disappeared. There was another creaking sound from the door.

Onto the third.
Sadness.
This was an easy one too. His heart was still bleeding from the wound left by Kutz’s death. She had tried to console him to her last breath. The feel of her gentle hand upon his cheek.

The third pattern disappeared. Wataru moved over to the fourth.

Happiness.
This would be a hard one to narrow down. Listening to Meena singing atop the darbaba cart. The feast of the waterkin in Sakawa. All the good food he’d eaten at various lodgings. The conversations he’d had with his friends on the road. All the memories sparkled in his mind.

Then from among them, one memory stood out—the night he saw the performance of the Aeroga Elenora Spectacle Machine in the mountains outside Maquiba. Meena was a lively girl, but on stage she was incredible. Her high-wire tricks made Wataru fidget with fear even as they thrilled him. And he remembered the close of the show, when all the performers threw flowers. He looked at Meena and thought that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He had clapped until his hands were red and raw.

Thinking about it now, all of his happiness and sadness in Vision came from the times he was with his friends.

Thunk.
The fourth pattern faded. Another clunk came from the gate, and with a slow groaning noise, it began to open.

I did it!

Wataru thrust his fists into the air. The riddle hadn’t been that hard to solve after all.

But what about the fifth pattern? It was still lying there on the ground.

Wataru tried stepping on the pattern again. Nothing happened. Maybe it was a blank, set there to confuse him?

Joy, anger, sadness, and happiness. What other emotions were there? Maybe it wasn’t worth worrying about. The gate had opened anyway.

Wataru was running out of time. He turned his feet toward the gate. His heart thumped in his chest.

As he walked through, everything swirled around him. For several seconds, he could see nothing but a dazzling whirlwind of light. When his vision cleared again, everything had changed.

He was in the Swamp of Grief.

It was a perfect replica. The flat surface of the water somehow managed to look just as ominous, even in crystal. He half imagined that somewhere down there was a crystal kalon, waiting for prey, its sawlike teeth bared and menacing. The meager clumps of grass growing around the edges of the lake would cut a man’s hand if he wasn’t careful. If his feet should catch on a root, and he fell into the water, his body would freeze. The black water of the Swamp of Grief would numb him with its poison, slowly robbing him of life.

Am I supposed to cross this?

Wataru hesitantly took a step and found the surface of the lake to be solid under his foot, as though it were frozen. No matter what shape it took, crystal was crystal after all. Still, with every step, Wataru couldn’t help but imagine the kalon swimming somewhere far below. What if it came up through the surface of the lake to claim its victim?

I’m fine, I’m fine. That can’t happen.
He walked hesitantly at first, but soon regained his confidence. From then on he walked normally.
I just need to make it to the other side of the lake.