Brave Story

by Miyuki Miyabe

  Numbness, like from an electrical shock, spread from the palms of his hands down his arms. Wataru was thrown into the air.

  He was too surprised to feel pain. Wataru was scrambling to get to his feet when he realized the barrier of invisibility was gone. The bolt of lightning had caused it to dissipate. And there was Father Diamon looking at him with a broad smile on his face. His eyes shone with a dark fluorescence.

  “H-how…”

  Father Diamon took a step toward Wataru. “Did you seriously think your juvenile cantrips would deceive my eyes? I’ve known you were here for quite some time now.”

  So he knew, but he chose to wait and let me struggle.

  Wataru got up on one knee, then stood, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. Father Diamon’s smile grew wider. “Who are you?” he asked, eyes glinting. He took a step closer. Wataru took a step back. “Juvenile though it was, not every child can work barrier magic of that caliber. When you came here before, you claimed to be a Highlander?”

  “I am a Highlander,” Wataru said, prouding lifting his chin. “Sworn to right injustice and defend Vision from evil.”

  Father Diamon gave a short, cruel laugh—like a dog barking. “Oh, very nice. You must be very proud.”

  Wataru felt the pastor’s eyes looking him over, sizing him up. He began to tremble.

  “That sword…” Father Diamon said, pointing at the Brave’s Sword at Wataru’s waist. His eyes narrowed. “That look in your eyes, and the scent of your magic…” Once again, the pastor’s face broke into a leering smile. “Of course! You’re a Traveler, aren’t you?”

  Wataru didn’t answer. His body was tensed, ready to launch an attack at any moment.

  “That’s it. You are a Traveler.” The pastor seemed very pleased with his discovery. “A cursed zaza-aku! A false god! Lowly servant, born from the primordial muck your false goddess stirred up in her vanity. Why have you set foot in this holy place? Do you think that your base existence can comprehend the radiance of this cathedral?”

  “Where’re the people from Bricklayer Street!” Wataru snapped back.

  Father Diamon lifted his long, elegant eyebrows, gray with a dusting of white. “What’s that?”

  “Where’s Toni Fanlon? The dungeons under this cathedral—where are they?”

  “Oh, so that’s why you’ve come. Let me guess: you intend to rescue them?”

  “Tell me where they are!”

  “Search for them, if you must, my little zaza-aku.” Father Diamon held up his scepter in both hands, lifting the gemstone until it was at eye level. “Yet I fear you’ll find it quite difficult to rescue the unclean dregs of this town…when you’re dead!”

  Father Diamon pressed the gemstone to his forehead and began to chant in a loud, resonant voice. “By the immortal cry of our God, bound in antiquity, by the power of his spirit, chained for eternity. Come now, honor those who are faithful to you. Bring destruction upon our foes!”

  At once, all the stained glass in the cathedral shone brilliantly. It was as though lightning had struck each one of them at the same instant. Wataru lifted a hand to shield his eyes against the dazzling light. A shockwave passed through the floor beneath his feet, and he had to grab onto the back of the nearest pew just to stay standing.

  “Lord above us, bring your judgment down upon those who would sully thy name!”

  Father Diamon spread his arms, his voice a wild screech that echoed off the vaulted arches of the ceiling. In response, the stained glass shone again. In the glare of light, Wataru saw that each of the images of Cistina in the stained glass had turned. They were…

  They’re looking at me!

  As one, they held their scepters high in their right hands. The mirrors in their left hands reflected Wataru’s own image.

  —Here, our enemy is come among us.

  —Look, our enemy is here in our grasp.

  As one, the eyes of all the Cistinas flared.

  Crack!

  Behind him, Wataru heard a clump of flowers dropping to the ground. Quick as a whip, he whirled around, then froze.

  Not again.

  Before his eyes, the statue of Cistina was stepping down from its pedestal, knocking aside the flowers that covered its feet. Dropping down, it sounded like stone grinding against stone. Its hand holding the scepter was thrust out to the side like a great wing.

  “Observe!” Father Diamon howled with laughter toward the ceiling. “See our glorious Lady’s wrath at the false god’s defilement of her holy ground!”

  The pupil-less eyes of the stone Cistina turned toward Wataru. He could feel rage and hatred boiling from those smooth gray stone orbs, rooting him to the spot.

  The stone idol walked across the floor, mirror now held over her head. She swung the scepter up behind her, like a tennis player making a backhand shot. A great blast-wave burst from the tip and shot down the length of the cathedral. A wind smelling of poison and thorns buffeted him. The back of the pew directly in front of him was cut clean in two, like some stage magician’s trick. Fragments of wood rained down on Wataru.

  Without a word, he turned and ran.

  “Yes, run, run, unclean wretch! Do you fear the judgment of God? Does it frighten you? There is no place in this cathedral where you may hide!”

  As he shouted, a second blast-wave shot across the room. Wataru dove headfirst to avoid it. The sleeve of his shirt ripped, and he saw two or three rows of pews tossed up into the air.

  Fthunk. Fthunk.

  With each step of the stone Cistina, the cathedral floor quaked. She was only three rows away from Wataru now. Behind her, Father Diamon withdrew, holding his scepter aloft, and resumed his prayers.

  Another blast-wave struck. Wataru dodged in the nick of time, but it ripped his left ear lobe as it shot past his head, sending a fine spray of blood across his cheek.

  If I slip and fall, I’m done for.

  The eyes of Cistina were fixed on him. The scepter swung again. Wataru drew his sword, and, using it like he had in the Swamp of Grief, he fired a magebullet at the onrushing blast-wave.

  The blast-wave came straight for him, kicking up fragments of wood in its wake. Thankfully, Wataru’s magebullet deflected the attack and sent it ricocheting back at Cistina. The collision between the blast-wave and magebullet formed a stunning white crescent-shaped barrier for the briefest moment. Absorbing the blow, the stone god wavered for a second before resuming her stride.

  The statue isn’t moving by itself. Father Diamon is controlling it with his chanting. Wataru thought hard. It’s Father Diamon I have to stop. I have to break the spell!

  Another blast-wave came and he deflected it. This time, the leftover energy from the blast careened at an angle and toppled a row of candles to the floor. No, that wasn’t exactly right. It had actually cut the candles clean in half. The severed tops fell onto the floor, their fires flickering pitifully on the stone.

  These blast-waves…that’s it!

  The tip of Cistina’s scepter pointed again at Wataru.

  I have to direct the blast at Father Diamon!

  This reminded him of something. Softball. I played softball with Katchan. I couldn’t swing the bat very fast, but Mr. Komura always said I had a great sense of timing. “That Wataru can hit any ball—not very far, but he can hit it! He’s got good instincts. Why, Ichiro Suzuki ain’t got nothing on him!”

  It was all about the timing. Wataru steadied his breathing. The stone Cistina was winding up again. Here it comes.

  The blast-wave shot at Wataru. He could see it cut through the air, howling. It was coming straight for his neck.

  Wataru swung his Brave’s Sword and let fly another magebullet. But he had flinched when he saw the blast-wave coming, and his swing came a second too late. The barrier of light spread right in front of his nose, and the impact of the blast-wave sent Wataru sprawling. Three candelabras off to the side had their stands cut from underneath them. In the wake of the blast-wave there remained an eerie silence.r />
  “What’s wrong? Is it all you can do to avoid getting hit? I’m afraid you can’t hold on much longer, boy!” Father Diamon’s cackling laughter echoed off the walls of the cathedral.

  Cistina’s stone face was close now. It smiled, anticipating the final blow. The scepter cut an arc through the air. Wataru heard the keening disharmony of a blast-wave fired at point-blank range.

  —“Ichiro Suzuki ain’t got nothing on him!”

  Wataru swung his sword just like a baseball bat. This time, the magebullet fired slightly to the side, catching the blast-wave at an angle. The part of the blast-wave that wasn’t blocked by the barrier grazed Wataru’s left elbow. It stung like a razor blade cutting into his skin. His shirt sleeve ripped, and the blood splattered on his side.

  “Waah!”

  Far behind the statue Father Diamon toppled over backward, knocking over a pew as he fell. His white robes fluttered out like a sail, and a whole section of his sleeve ripped off and fell fluttering through the air. For a moment, Father Diamon cowered, and the statue halted its advance.

  Now’s my chance!

  Wataru ducked underneath Cistina’s right hand holding the scepter, and charged straight for Father Diamon.

  “Wretched boy!” Father Diamon howled. He was attempting to stand, but his flowing robes got in the way. Wataru crossed the distance to the pastor in three giant leaps, and successfully pinned him to the floor.

  He then grabbed Father Diamon by the collar and yanked him up. He turned, so the pastor was between him and the stone Cistina, like a shield.

  “Try your spells now! Make her attack, and she’ll take you down with me!”

  “Cowardly cretin!”

  “That’s a funny thing for a guy who hides behind statues to say!”

  The stone Cistina wobbled, its mirror and scepter held high above its head.

  “Let go of me with your filthy hands. Let go!”

  “No way!”

  Roaring, Father Diamon tried to escape, struggling against Wataru’s grasp. The collar of his robes tore. The pastor kicked with his feet and swung his scepter as best he could. “Unhand me, thing of evil!”

  Hey, good idea.

  Wataru let go with both his hands at once. The pastor, struggling with all his strength to get away, suddenly found himself unexpectedly free, and his momentum sent him crashing to the floor. His bald head hit the stone with a cracking sound.

  With a soft moan, the pastor curled into a ball. Wataru reached out his hand and took the scepter from the pastor’s loose fingers.

  “That’s enough of this thing!” Gripping the handle of the scepter, Wataru smashed it against the ground as hard as he could. The gemstone shattered into a thousand pieces, giving off a smell like blood as the fragments scattered. The Cistina statue stopped, its hands still raised above its head. Then, the fingers of its right hand loosened, and its scepter fell to the ground with a thunk. Wataru blinked. Where the scepter had been only a moment before was a small pile of sand.

  “My Lady!” Father Diamon’s forehead was cut, and blood streamed down over his face. The blood had gone into one of his eyes, forming a pool that looked comically like an eyepatch.

  He’s no pastor. He’s a wicked old pirate captain.

  “Boy! The Lady Cistina will never forgive this!”

  In response to Father Diamon’s voice, the stained glass again flashed like lightning. The mirror in the stone Cistina’s left hand responded with its own flash. Then a new light shone from the surface of the round mirror, forming a beam that shot straight at Wataru. Wataru dodged to the side. He rolled and jumped to his feet. Where he stood before was a scary black scorch mark.

  Okay, now she’s shooting lasers from her mirror at me. Wataru couldn’t decide whether to scream or laugh out loud. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest in panicked excitement.

  Just then, the firewyrm band on his left wrist blazed red. A burning sensation passed up his arm, clearing his mind. He remembered the oath of the Highlanders—those who received the will of the firewyrm, protectors of the code, hunters of the truth.

  Wataru stood. He pressed the blazing red firewyrm band to his chest for an instant, then, lifting his sword, he flew into motion.

  Beams shot from the mirror in the stone Cistina’s hand in rapid succession, following Wataru as he ran, leaving a succesion of black scorch marks on the floor and walls behind him. Splintered chunks of the pews smoldered and burned.

  I’m not after the statue. I’m after the source of the mirror’s power—the stained glass!

  Wataru ran, dodging to the right, leaping to the left, and tumbling forward through the cathedral. He fired a magebullet at one of the stained glass windows.

  Colored shards of glass tinkled to the floor.

  We come before you now and bow at your feet.

  Glass rained from the next window.

  To despise what is evil, to save what is weak.

  Another window broke, then another. Wataru thought he could hear a woman’s scream mingled with the sound of breaking glass.

  Until our bodies fall to dust.

  The last window remaining was the stained glass next to the altar itself. The Cistina pictured on it glared at Wataru, her eyes flashing with wrath. She seemed ready to leap from the window and fly at him. But a well-aimed shot from Wataru transformed the image into countless fragments.

  Following always the star of righteousness!

  Out of breath, his eyes stinging with the dust, Wataru turned back toward the statue of Cistina. She stood there facing him from across a veritable mountain of broken pews and mangled flowers.

  “Take this!”

  Wataru fired. The magebullet flew true, striking the stone Cistina square in the middle of her chest. The bullet shattered into fragments and disappeared, but the stone Cistina still stood.

  Nothing?!

  The strength went out of Wataru’s legs, and he fell to his knees, still staring at the statue. Then the statue’s right hand loosened, the fingers coming apart, and the mirror dropped to the floor. Just like the scepter, this too transformed into a small pile of dust.

  “Oh, my Lady…” Face caked with blood, Father Diamon crawled to the statue’s feet. Clinging to her leg, he cried, “What have you done! Wretched boy, do you know what you have done here?”

  Before Wataru could say anything, the statue abruptly lurched to one side. It was, he saw, just a statue now. Broken, and off its pedestal, the Lady Cistina had become nothing more than a heavy, unstable lump of stone. Before Father Diamon realized what was happening, the statue slowly toppled over, crushing the screaming pastor beneath it.

  Silence came abruptly. The only things moving within the cathedral were the swirling eddies of dust and tiny wicks of flame licking at the broken pews. That was all. The raw light streaming in through the broken stained-glass windows made the inside of the cathedral seem unnaturally bright.

  I did it. I won.

  Wataru sat down. He was gasping for breath as though he had been underwater for far too long and only just now broken to the surface.

  The small door to the side of the altar opened outward, and a few robed men peered out into the room. They stood stunned. When Wataru turned to face them, they screamed and ran off into the room beyond the door, leaving it swinging behind them.

  There’s no time to waste. Those men were probably the pastor’s underlings. If they tell the Knights of Stengel or Branch Chief Pam, they’ll come running here in a flash. There’s no way I’ll be able to fight all of them at once.

  Time to run. Wataru stood at last, turning toward the main entrance, when he heard somebody shouting in a loud voice.

  “Someone, help! Help! There’s been an attack on the cathedral! Tell the branch at once! We need help!”

  Uh-oh.

  The main entrance was looking less and less like a viable escape route. Wataru lifted his sword to make another barrier, but he was too tired. Just beginning to form the cross with the tip of his
sword made him so dizzy he nearly toppled over.

  They’ll catch me…

  “What happened here?!”

  Wataru looked up. There, from the flower-covered pedestal where the statue of Cistina had stood, a man’s face had emerged, his eyes wide.

  The pedestal! The pedestal where Cistina stood crushing the beastkin under her feet was the entrance to the dungeons. How like Branch Chief Pam and Father Diamon.

  Before the man had time to duck out of sight, Wataru summoned the last of his strength and fired another magebullet. The man shrieked and disappeared, making a bonk bonk bonk sound that faded into the distance as he fell.

  Downward.

  Wataru dragged his feet into reluctant motion, running over to the pedestal. As expected, the pedestal slid easily off to one side, revealing a ladder stretching into dim light below. Wataru peered down and saw the man from before lying unconscious at the foot of the ladder.

  With trembling hands, Wataru grabbed the ladder and began to descend. At the bottom, he found himself in a narrow corridor with stone walls, lit here and there by shaded lanterns. Directly to his right was a small room with a chair and a desk, covered with piles of documents. That must be the guard room.

  There was no mistaking it—he had found the dungeons. Directly in front of him was a gate, and Wataru saw bars running down the sides of the corridor beyond it. The people trapped inside scampered in their cages to see who had arrived.

  Apparently, the man Wataru had knocked out was the dungeon master because he had a keyring at his waist. Wataru grabbed it, and pressing himself against the gates to the corridor, he called out, “Is everybody okay? Are the people from Bricklayer Street here?”

  A great commotion answered his call, and a thousand questions came at him so fast he couldn’t hear them all. “Who are you?” “Have you come to save us?” “What happened upstairs? The ceiling was shaking!”

  “I’m a Highlander! I’ve come to get you out of here!” Wataru shouted, then he returned to the base of the ladder, climbed it, and closed the pedestal door. Using a coiled rope he found hanging on the guard room wall, he tied up the unconscious man and pushed him beneath the desk.