Brave Story (82 page)

It looked as though something giant and terrible and full of violence had passed down the street. That was exactly it. Something named Hate: formless yet full of strength, it had chewed its way through the buildings and left detritus in its wake—a ravenous child with bad table manners.

And Hate,
Wataru thought,
is always hungry.

“Looks like there was quite a riot. No wonder the Lyris branch was unable to contain the situation.”

Wataru had nothing to say.

I wonder where everyone went who lived on Bricklayer Street?
He hoped they had escaped, but he feared that many had been arrested and imprisoned.

And the Knights of Stengel helped him do it.

Wataru remembered what Fanlon had told him about High Chief Suluka in Bog sharing some of Branch Chief Pam’s feelings about non-ankha.
Suluka was the one who decided the Knights should be all ankha too.

Above all the destruction, the Cistina Trabados Cathedral still towered, its great bell sparkling in the sun. Somehow, seeing it from the air made it seem all the more threatening. The shadow it cast upon the town dominated more than ever before. The cathedral basked in the sun, while Bricklayer Street was cast in darkness. Wataru knew it was impossible, but it seemed like the church’s shadow was trying to swallow the entire town.

For anyone who didn’t see eye to eye with the cathedral and the followers of the Old God, Lyris would be a very dangerous place to live. Even for a Highlander.

Lyris did not have a town gate like the one in Gasara. But checkpoints had been set up by both Highlanders and the Knights of Stengel. At the entrance where Wataru had first entered Lyris, a large blockade of logs had been erected. This handily blocked anyone from coming in or out of the town.

“What will you do, my young Highlander?” the karulakin asked.

“Let me down in a forest outside town. I’ll find a way to sneak in.”

“Very well. Be cautious.”

The karulakin flew away from town, setting course for the nearby woods. After making sure no spies were lurking about, Wataru was delivered safely to the ground. The whole time, Wataru thought about how he was going to get inside Lyris.

Maybe I can pretend to be an ankha kid who lives there. I’ll say I’m coming back from some errand.
Wataru discarded the idea immediately.
They’d suspect me in an instant.
None of the well-to-do ankha living here would send their kids out on an errand with martial law in effect.
Maybe I could pretend I was lost, that I didn’t know my way home. Excuse me, Mr. Knight sir, could you help me find my home?

Wataru stood, chewing his lip, pondering his options (none of which sounded particularly appealing), when he felt a strange warmth at his waist. He looked down to see the Brave’s Sword shining. Wataru quickly drew the blade from its sheath.

—Wataru, Wataru.

It was the voice of the spirit in the second gemstone.

—You remember using this sword as a mageblade in the Swamp of Grief?

—Now that we are two, there is another use for this sword.

—Raise it, lift the sword!

Startled, Wataru brought the sword to eye level. Of its own accord, the tip of the blade moved, tracing a pattern in the air. Right and left, then up and down forming a cross. All the while, the shining blade reflected Wataru’s own face.

Suddenly, he felt lighter.
What’s going on? Is this the new power?
If it was, it was nothing like the magebullet he had fired in the swamp.

Then, Wataru realized he could no longer see the sword. In fact, he couldn’t see his own hand gripping the sword, although he still felt the hilt firm within his grasp.

I’m invisible!

The Spirit spoke.

—Wataru, this is the sword’s new power. As long as the cross is bound, your form cannot be seen. The sword has created a sacred barrier, hiding you
from all eyes.

—Yet you must listen, for this barrier draws its energy from your own body. Do not maintain it for very long. Unform the cross as soon as you find a place to hide yourself. Hold it too long, and your strength will falter, and you will fall.

“Understood!” Wataru felt himself fill with courage.

It was time to find Elza.

The branch in Lyris was overrun with people, both Knights and Highlanders. Branch Chief Pam could be seen sitting in a back room across the table from a Knight of Stengel, his helm resting on his knee. The two were engaged in a heated debate. From the armor and crest he wore, and the attitude of the Knights around him, it was clear this was Captain Zaidek.

Elza was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe she’s at home
. Wataru stepped behind a potted plant and took a break from invisibility. After a brief moment, he raised the barrier again and went in search of Pam’s private residence. As the spirit had warned him, keeping himself hidden with the barrier was exhausting—like climbing a mountain—and he found himself running out of breath and having to rest frequently. His pulse seemed to be racing faster than usual, another side effect of the barrier sucking its energy from his body.

Everyone Wataru saw on the streets of Lyris, including the Highlanders and the Knights, were all ankha. Most of the shops were closed, and some even had their windows and doors boarded up. But compared to the devastation on Bricklayer Street, the center of town was quite peaceful. The shops that were open had long lines out in front. Walking by one, Wataru overheard conversations about where each place was getting its goods. The supply routes into the city, he learned, had been shut down.

“I suppose we’ll just have to make do until they finish rounding up the undesirables,” he heard one ankha woman grumble. Wataru felt a chill run down his spine.
Undesirables. They’ve closed off the town, and now they’re hunting down all the non-ankha. Hunting them down…and then what?

By the time he reached Pam’s residence, Wataru was gasping like a fish out of water. As he got closer to the house, he was able to spot Elza directly in front of a second-story window. There was no one on the first floor when he slipped inside the front door.

Quickly releasing the barrier, he found a nearby chair and flopped down. His shoulders heaved with each pained breath. A sudden wave of dizziness came over him, and he had to hang onto the back of the chair to keep from slipping onto the floor. The chair creaked.

He heard soft footfalls from the floor above.

“Who’s there?”

It was Elza. She was coming down the stairs. Wataru looked around, still clinging to the back of his chair.

“My, it’s…it’s you!”

Her beautiful black eyes were just as he remembered them. But her slender frame was even more sticklike. She seemed practically emaciated now.

“Where…is Mr. Fanlon?” Wataru managed to say, before tumbling off the chair. He fell to the floor, and it was all he could do just to breathe.

Elza hid Wataru up in her room and brought him some cold water. After a while he regained his composure and explained the wyrmflute to her.

“Yes, yes,” she nodded. “I’m sure Toni could make that for you. In fact, he’s probably the only one who could do it.”

Wataru noticed her eyes filled with tears. “But he can’t help you now…he was arrested,” she said. “When my father deployed a unit of Highlanders to Bricklayer Street, he was taken prisoner.”

“Do you know where he was taken?”

“The Cistina Cathedral.”

“There? Not some detention facility?”

What, were they cramming people into the cathedral and trying to force them to believe in the Old God?

“There’s a large dungeon beneath the church,” Elza explained. “My father worked it out with the pastor there. They said the power of Cistina was the best thing for holding heretics.”

The pastor would be Father Diamon, whom Wataru had met earlier. He remembered his shiny bald head and those eyes like thorns.

“So all I have to do is get into the dungeons beneath the cathedral?”

“Yes…but how will you get down there? I don’t know the way. I’ve been there many times, but I’ve never seen any stairs going down.”

Wataru took a deep breath. He would have to go and see for himself. He felt a strange fluttering in his chest, like his heart was beating slightly out of step. His legs, too, were a little weak.

“Have another drink of water. You look pale. And you should probably eat something too.”

He shook his head. “Thanks, water’s enough. I don’t have much time.” Still, he was deeply grateful when she brought him more water and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his face. “How are you doing, Elza? I’ve seen the town—things are really bad, aren’t they?”

In response, Elza turned her tear-streaked cheeks toward the window. Walking over, she drew the curtain. “It’s all because of the news about Halnera, about how a sacrifice is needed to remake the Great Barrier of Light.”

Wataru had guessed as much. “There’ve been disturbances in other towns for the same reason. Prisoners and poor people seem the most worried. They’re afraid they’re more likely to be chosen. Some of the prisoners think that the USN government wants to sacrifice them to the Goddess before somebody important can be chosen.”

“Yes, it is the same here.”

“I think some people are taking advantage of the chaos for their own selfish agenda…”

Still gripping the curtains in her hands, Elza turned and frowned. “Yesterday, my father said there was some trouble in the mines at Arikita.”

“That’s right. The Knights of Stengel were sent there.”

“Oh,” Elza sighed, slumping.

“It looks like the distubance here had a lot to do with the ankha taking advantage of the non-ankha…more openly than usual, even.”

Elza buried her face in the curtains.

“I just don’t understand how things got this bad,” Wataru said, half to himself.

Elza responded, her voice thin. “Only one person in the whole world will be chosen as the sacrifice. There’s no cause for this much alarm. And it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with race relations.”

Wataru was silent. He thought there was plenty enough reason to be worried, even if there really was going to be only one sacrifice. For him, the chances were fifty-fifty.

“But it was worse than Toni and I had feared,” Elza said, looking around. “Even my dad and Father Diamon were surprised just how deeply the teachings of the Old God had spread through the ankha in town. You know about the teachings?”

Wataru nodded. “Enough to know they believe that the Goddess made the non-ankha races in her own image to fight against the Old God. They also believe that the Old God would one day destroy them all and make a paradise for ankha here in Vision.”

A tear fell from Elza’s eyes as she continued. “According to the teachings, the need for a sacrifice every one thousand years to rebuild the Great Barrier is another of the Goddess’s schemes to persecute ankha. So, of course, an ankha would be chosen. Even if it is only one, every ankha is sacred and valuable in his duty to uphold the revival of the Old God, yet the Goddess chooses one of them. It’s all a part of her strategy to weaken them, they say.”

Wataru snorted. “Sounds ridiculous.”

“I wonder,” Elza said, looking at Wataru with sad eyes. “You are a Highlander, but I’m afraid you’re still a child. No matter how ridiculous it may sound, for those who believe, it’s the truth. To the followers of the Old God, the one whom the Goddess will choose is destined to be the savior of the ankha. That is why they must stop the sacrifice by any means possible.”

Father Diamon had gathered a large crowd of believers at the Cistina Cathedral, explained Elza, and he had given a great sermon. That was when he explained to them that Halnera was not the time of the Great Barrier’s remaking—that was a fabrication of the Goddess. To those believers in the Old God who knew the truth, Halnera was the time when the Old God appeared through the Blood Star in the north. At that time, the Goddess and all her followers would be destroyed.

“They say it’s a sign of the coming of a holy war, when the followers of the Old God finally destroy the Goddess, and take back Vision for their own.”

Elza’s words reached Wataru, brushing against his cheek like a cold breath. He shivered. “The National Observatory in Lourdes didn’t say anything like that.”

“Of course they didn’t. But people in Lyris believe Father Diamon, so it doesn’t matter what the observatory said.” Elza shook her head so vigorously the braid in her black hair came undone and her hair streamed over her shoulders. “That’s why Toni was arrested. But he couldn’t stand against them alone. There was nothing he could do. They burned his workshop…”

Defeat pressed on Wataru’s shoulders, and he felt like he was sinking into his chair.
Even if I did save Mr. Fanlon, he’d have no workshop to make the flute.

Still, he wasn’t about to leave Toni Fanlon to his fate. Wataru placed his empty glass down by his feet, and stood.

“What will you do?” Elza asked quietly.