by Stone, C. L.
Sota squinted at him and reached into his pack, bringing out a small leather pouch with a handful of taels inside, along with a small dagger. “I can get another one later,” he said.
“Give me a few minutes,” Ryuu said, taking everything along with his own pack and heading into the market.
Sota stood close to me, looking on to where Ryuu had disappeared into the crowd. “I’m not supposed to let anyone join us on the way.”
“We may need to bend a few of these rules,” I said. “Let Ryuu try. He’s a trader, after all.”
Sota met my eyes with a questioning glance, but I offered a small smile to note I trusted Ryuu. We didn’t have much choice if we wanted to get there without walking the whole way.
Sota said nothing, but his face returned to his light smiling, relaxed state. I concluded this was his way of telling me he’d let me take the lead on this.
I only hoped Ryuu didn’t come back with a boat.
THE SPIRIT OF THE OXEN
IN AN HOUR, RYUU RETURNED, his pack mostly empty and all of our items gone. “That took ages,” he said with a satisfied grin, and his dark eyes lit up. “But I got the best ride out of town.”
It was still morning, and the crowd had mostly dispersed from the central market—some walking, some in carriages, and some had chosen to return home and wait for the next ship.
“It better be the best ride,” Sota said, lifting the bird cage. The Taka gave a sharp whistle at being jostled out of a nap. “We’re already an hour behind when we could have been on the road if we’d gone on foot.”
“Trust me,” Ryuu said and motioned in a direction away from the market. “We’ll probably even beat the ship there.”
Ryuu guided us to the edge of the village, to a hill overlooking the docks. For a flicker of a moment, I was worried he had traded everything for coin and was tricking us by drawing us out of town. I had lived in the village all my life, and I didn’t know there was anything beyond the hill.
At the top was a small hut, inconspicuous and almost derelict in its appearance. The walls and roof consisted of branches of various sizes strung together with vines. Some were cracked, gray and rotting from time, and ivy crept along the edges, threatening to overtake it.
In the open doorway, leaning against the cracked wooden frame, stood a young man. His dark hair was cut short but wild, and he wore nothing except a pair of men’s kimono pants, too short as they stopped well above his ankles. His frame was slim, but not skinny like the beggars I’d seen in the market at times.
He seemed hesitant as we approached, until he saw Ryuu, and he motioned to him to come.
He stopped his gesturing when his eyes settled on me. The wild look to his eyes faded at the same time, and he focused on my face. He stopped leaning against the frame, standing taller. We seemed to be the same height. His eyes never left my face. I couldn’t stop staring at his bare torso. There were scars along the front of his chest, like he’d been swiped at by a wild bear.
His stare unsettled me. Did he know me?
“What’s this?” Sota asked. His walk slowed and he stepped ahead of me, blocking me from any further approach. “You’ve been tricked. This man has nothing.”
“That’s what everyone else thought,” Ryuu said. “But trust me.”
Ryuu hurried ahead, greeting the young man with a bow of his head. “Thanks for letting us borrow your wagon,” he said.
The young man blinked his eyes rapidly, dislodging his stare and refocusing on Ryuu. “I’m ready,” he said. “I told my uncle where we were going. The cart is ready to go.”
Ryuu stuttered shortly and then shook his head. “Wait a moment. I thought you said you were loaning us the rig. You didn’t say anything about coming with us, Shima.”
Shima raised his chin slowly. His face was angled, but his eyes were very aware, very critical of Ryuu. “It is impossible for anyone to control the oxen besides me. I must drive you.”
I frowned, unable to help being skeptical. Oxen were very uncommon, and I doubted his claim to own any. Ryuu must have been duped.
Sota looked at me. He remained unreadable, but he continued to stand in front of me. “I don’t know who you are. I already don’t approve.”
Ryuu sliced his hand toward Sota. “Relax,” he said. “I saw them myself. That’s what took so long. I had to see.” He turned to Shima. “Forgive his skepticism. He’s not from here.”
Shima frowned for a moment but then pulled away from the hut, jumping out of the doorway to the bare dirt, his feet nearly the same color, they were so coated with dust. He motioned for us to follow him.
Ryuu followed him immediately while Sota hesitated and prevented me as well.
“Let’s see what he has,” I said. “There’s no harm in taking a look.”
“I don’t like him,” Sota said quietly.
“You didn’t like Ryuu either, but he’s helping us.” I put a hand on his shoulder and urged him on. “We don’t exactly have the luxury of picking our allies based on how they look.”
Sota slowly started to move, keeping me behind him as we went around the hut.
Behind the hut was a small field with crops looking a little the worse for wear and in need of water. Nearby, a cart had been set up, rigged and ready to go.
Hitched to it were four creatures I’d never seen before. Each was a broad beast with the hooves and snout of an ox, yet wispy like a ghost. They appeared to be floating and were strapped together with a fine silver rope.
Ghosts? The sight of them took my breath away, and I was the one hesitating.
Shima stood by, turning to us and motioning to the cart. His chest flexed as he folded his arms across his stomach, addressing me when he spoke. “Please, no sudden movements,” Shima said.
“What is this?” I whispered, afraid of spooking them by using too loud a voice.
“They’re faster than anything they’re selling down at the market,” Shima said. “They’re animals who worked so hard, they don’t know they’re dead. It takes a great deal of strength to get them to go in the direction you want. Otherwise, they’d circle the globe endlessly.” He pointed at Ryuu. “This is why I need to go with you. They are handled a certain way. I’ve got the knack.”
Ryuu put his hand over his heart atop the folds of his kimono. “We’ll follow your lead.”
The ghost oxen made me nervous. Ghosts weren’t that common, and I’d only heard of them in the books Dr. Aoi had me read. There was lots of magic and mystery in the world that I hadn’t encountered, and I knew that, but this was something so close to home, and I had never known them to be here. Ryuu had been right. I’d closed myself off from everything when my parents had died.
Sota didn’t seem surprised at all by the ghost oxen, his displeasure being directed only toward Shima. He ignored him now, turning to me and offering me a hand. “I’ll help you up,” he told me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be first, but I followed him around to the back of the cart and held his hand to ease myself in. I was satisfied staying in the far back, away from the oxen so as not to disturb them.
He carefully put the Taka in its cage on the ground and threw my pack in the back, followed quickly by his own. There was a rattling, like pans clanging together in his things.
The creatures bucked, and the wagon jerked. I was thrown on top of the packs, causing more rattling.
The creatures bolted, dragging the cart behind them.
I was tossed into the corner of the cart, legs up, on my back, losing my sandals in the process as they were shaken from my feet. When I managed to right myself, we were still at a full run. Sota and Ryuu were behind the cart, running to catch me but quickly falling behind.
Shima broke away from both of them, running with a speed I’d never seen. He was leagues in front of Sota and Ryuu within a blink. Still, he wasn’t as fast as the oxen.
The creatures followed the road down the hill, faster than a bird. Their hooves never really touched the ground, merely see
ming to glide silently. I expected more noise, but the only real sound came from the cart rolling over the ground.
However, the wagon took time to stop bouncing from the rugged start. Once it evened out, it was like the cart floated, too. When it did, I could crawl toward the front. I found the reins still tied to a wooden knob near the seat.
I sat on the seat and tugged the reins, like I’d seen other people do with their horses. When the oxen didn’t respond, I tried again, and then again with as much effort as I could against the taut reins.
The creatures slowed. I tugged again and called to them. “Slow down,” I cried.
To my surprise, they slowed even more and bobbed their heads, as if acknowledging that I had spoken to them, yet they still moved forward.
At that moment, Shima appeared, climbing into the seat from the cart. He reached for the reins. “Nice job,” he said. “Slowing them isn’t easy. My turn.”
I eagerly dropped the reins into his hands. How had he caught up so quickly?
The moment he had the reins, he held on to them with one hand. His other arm reached around my shoulders, bracing me against his chest.
“Don’t let go,” he said.
I gripped him, and the seat, terrified of why he would say this.
He tugged the reins well over his head, so hard it would have severely hurt anything alive to be jerked in such a way.
The creatures grunted, and the cart jerked to a sudden stop. If Shima hadn’t held on to me, I could have been thrown forward.
My heart eventually stopped beating so loud, and I caught my breath. “Thank you,” I said quietly. And then realized I was still clinging to him in a terror grip.
He didn’t release my shoulders until I let go of him, and then he nodded, those dark eyes curious. “You’re Mizuki,” he said quietly.
“You know me,” I said.
“I’d never forget your face,” he said.
I was speechless. He was fast, strong, and now that I was looking more directly at him, one of the more handsome boys of the entire village. Yet I didn’t recall him at all. Had we met before?
Before I could ask, there were footsteps behind us as Ryuu and Sota ran to us.
Sota caught up first, his broad chest heaving as he looked up at me. “I’ll give him credit,” he said, motioning to Shima. “You were right. They are fast.”
Ryuu got to the edge, pushed himself over into the cart, and landed on his back, his chest and stomach filling and deflating as he caught his breath. “I dislike this running. I hope that’s not part of the inspection.”
“Tell me the way,” Shima said to Sota, giving him a hand to help him get up into the seat next to him. “I’ll drive, but I haven’t gone too far from the farm.”
I returned to the bed of the cart, joining Ryuu as Sota guided Shima to direct the cart down the hill. “Through the forest. We’ll try to stick to the main road, unless it gets overcrowded.” He glanced back at me, and then at my feet, now bare. “Where did your shoes go?”
“They flew off back there somewhere,” I said. Shima was already flicking the reins. The creatures huffed but walked slowly, heading toward a road.
Sota turned around and scanned the land toward the hut. “I don’t really want to waste any more time looking for shoes.” He bent over and started undoing the shoes at his feet.
“I don’t need them,” I said. “I’m in the cart.”
“You’ll need them once we reach the city. You must look somewhat presentable.” He dropped out of the seat, landing next to me in the cart. He picked up my feet and began putting his shoes on me.
The shoes were lined with fur and were the softest thing I’d ever felt on my skin. Yet I was embarrassed. I was taking his shoes, and he was dressing me like I was helpless.
I looked over his head at Ryuu, who watched us, frowning but not disagreeing with Sota, which told me he thought I should take the shoes. I thought it ridiculous. Shima didn’t have shoes, or a kimono for that matter.
Once I had them on, I focused on the road, absently thanking him as politely as I could, but also feeling odd. Was this what an escort was supposed to do? And how long would he be around?
How long would Ryuu? Once we reached the city, would I be on my own?
That thought terrified me. What if Mrs. Satsu changed her mind?
As we headed away from Shima’s farm, further from the village than I’d ever been, the realization of what was going to happen to me kicked in. If something happened, I had no money to pay for a boat to return me to the village. Ryuu had already had to spend anything I had of value to get Shima to drive us to the city.
I thought of how many people from my own village were heading to the city and pictured the same scene unfolding in many other villages.
I was no one, from a tiny village. I doubted even Mrs. Satsu could change me into what I needed to be to succeed. Which meant I’d be returning soon.
Would I even make it?
THE DEAD WE GRIEVE
THE JOURNEY TO THE Immortal City seemed endless. Kuni was an island country with three neighboring kingdoms to the north and west, and the world was much bigger beyond. I’d never stepped foot outside the village, and I’d considered the walk to the docks a long excursion.
We passed people along the road, most heading toward the city for registration, and this kept us relatively safe. “Bandits are less likely to harass us along the way with more people around,” Sota said.
Still, many were intimidated by the ghost oxen. Shima kept them focused on the road, but it took a lot of sharp tugging on the reins sharply. He also had to keep them at a distance from anyone else on the road, less they run over someone.
Despite promising to tell me about rules and what Mrs. Satsu was about, Sota refused to do so around Ryuu and Shima.
“They may have helped us,” he said while Ryuu slept in the cart behind us and the noise of the road kept Shima from overhearing, “but I don’t have permission to tell them what I know. You’ll have to wait until we get there.”
I disliked the secrecy. Ryuu didn’t trust Sota or Shima either. When Sota slept, Ryuu would keep me company.
“Don’t you think it’s a little odd Sota just showed up at your door?” he asked when I did my best to explain how Sota had appeared without telling Ryuu about Mrs. Satsu. “How can you trust him?”
“How can I trust you?” I asked. “You didn’t tell me I was on the roster.”
“I honestly didn’t know.” He sat back, his arms stretched along the the edge of the cart, close enough to my back to warm me through my clothes. “I never knew your family very well.” He paused. “I didn’t even know you’d left school until a week passed and you never returned. I was worried you were sick, but Dr. Aoi told me about your parents.”
I forced myself not to jerk in surprise. “You asked about me?”
He nodded with tight lips, his onyx eyes intense. “I’m sorry about what happened to them.”
My heart burned, and I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying anything. I appreciated his sympathy, yet I didn’t want to discuss my parents. It was hard enough not to feel I was leaving them behind.
Eventually, Shima had to rest. We took a spot near a campsite with other travelers.
Shima had us sleep in the cart while he laid out a blanket near the oxen. He didn’t fear them stepping on him, and he kept a rope tied to his ankle that was also tied to their reins.
I volunteered to stay awake for the first part of the night, to keep an eye out. Sota and Ryuu stretched out in the cart, back to back.
I sat on the very edge of the wagon’s seat, looking down at Shima as he scraped together leaves to cushion underneath the blanket before he rested on his back on top of it.
I had questions for him, but I tried to start out asking about something else. “Don’t the oxen sleep?”
“They don’t need to,” Shima said.
“What about food?”
“They don’t need that either.”
Shima frowned and sat up, holding himself up with an arm. “Are you really that interested in dead animals?”
I turned my head away to glance at the empty seat beside me. “I’ve never seen ghosts before.”
“You’ve never left the village,” he said. “It’s easy to avoid the world and what’s in it by never leaving home.”
I turned my attention back to him. He continued to sit, looking at me. His bare chest and lack of clothing other than pants that seemed too short were distracting, but it was his stern face and the way he looked at me that disturbed me the most.
“You knew me. Before today. You said you’d never forget my face, but I don’t remember you.”
He frowned sharply. “You weren’t the only one whose parents disappeared that day.”
My breath caught in my lungs and I held it in long enough for it to burn before blurting out, “You... my parents... and yours?”
“My father,” he said. “My mother died before then. When she had me. But my father was on the boat with your parents, and now he’s gone.”
I pressed my lips together, hard enough that it hurt against my teeth. I’d known other people had died, but the day I’d learned about it, I’d shut out every other thought about anyone else. Only I hadn’t realized it until now.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “But not all of us had the luxury of disappearing from the world.”
I gripped the edge of the seat, ready to jump out at him. “It wasn’t a luxury. I was doing everything I could to survive.”
“Like the rest of us,” he said quietly. “We’re all doing that.”
I swallowed, trying to calm down when nothing that had happened could be helped now. “I don’t know what I could have done differently. I didn’t know how to do anything else other than what I was doing.”
He wiped carefully at his face and then drew a finger across his own lips. “I don’t mean to sound bitter. But I was forced to beg in the marketplace for so long. And for a while, I blamed your parents. Your father captained the boat, so I believed it was his fault. I knew better, but when you’re hungry and alone, you...blame.”