The Wings of Dreams

by Fuyumi Ono

  Shushou wasn’t the only one who thought this a bit fishy. If it was really true, then the number of the dead would only grow until Gyokkei, the legendary home of the Gods, became jam-packed.

  Others claimed that the dead were reincarnated. Except that Shushou had never heard the reincarnation of her dead grandmother calling out to her. If she’d been reborn in a different form, with no memory even of Shushou, then her grandmother had hardly come back again. That’d make her little more than a stranger.

  In any case, Shushou thought, staring out at the graveyard, a person’s final resting place was a sad and lonely place.

  The surrounding fields served as a fire break to spare the town from wildfires. Houses, barns and crops were forbidden. The bleak, shorn meadows spread outwards. Only here in the rubble-strewn wasteland was the earth exposed in mounds. Catalpa shoots fluttered in the winter wind, here and there fallen over, with no grave tender to straighten them.

  The dead were usually born back to their home towns by their families. A child, grandchild, sibling or parent heard the news, and no matter how far away, would come as quickly as they could. They would bear the body back home and bury it on their own soil, build a mound and plant the catalpa shoots. The wealthy would construct a shrine, make offerings, and yearly on the vigil burn articles of clothing made out of paper.

  Even supposing the spirits had already departed, for hearts that longed for and missed them, the least they could do was prepare a vessel to serve as a home for their souls so as not to lose that connection with the dead.

  This cemetery had originally been a temporary gravesite for those coming to retrieve their dead. So if a family did not live too far away, the mourning period could be extended and the burial put off for a short while. And this being winter, all the more so.

  At the end of the day, buried in this potter’s field were the lonely dead who had no living to watch over them. It sounded better to called them wayfarers who had died on their journeys. But anyone who died and whose family did not come to get them was treated the same. Family or no, they lacked the resources or the respect and affection.

  And then there were entire families that died at the same time. There were vagabonds on the one hand, and those with families that cared but had no place to bury them on the other, and left them in a potter’s field out of necessity.

  After seven years, the grave keeper disinterred the unclaimed dead, crushed the coffin together with the bones inside, and reinterred them in the city mausoleum. And that was the end of it.

  In any case, the land a person owned was technically on loan from the kingdom, so when the old owner died, a new owner would take possession of it. Normally, people kept their hands off the catalpa trees at the borders of the hamlets. But if somebody inadvertently cut one down and discovered a coffin beneath, they’d dig it up and hand it over to the grave keeper, who would disposed of it in the customary manner.

  And so the end inevitably came, for people and every other living thing.

  “There are a few things I need to get done first,” Shushou muttered to herself, stroking Hakuto’s throat. She smiled into those golden brown eyes and took off her satin padded kimono. Beneath it was Keika’s thinner padded jacket.

  “It’s freezing—”

  Once the sun began to set, the chill in the air grew fierce. She’d traveled a considerable distance southeast from Renshou, but the weather hadn’t improved at all. She’d heard that winter didn’t visit kingdoms far to the south like Sou, and had been hoping that things would warm up a bit.

  With a sigh of regret, Shushou folded the satin kimono and stuffed it into the traveling pack on Hakuto’s back. Now to find an inn to spend the night.

  She’d donned Keika’s padded kimono—and before that had devised a way to take it off Keika’s hands—because she’d imagined that strutting around in her best outfit would make her a prime target for highway robbers.

  However, there was still the moukyoku. She needed an inn that had stables equipped to care for him. Except that Shushou certainly did not look like a seasoned traveler who knew her way around inns, or was wealthy enough to own her own kijuu, and so was likely to arouse suspicions. She’d had the constable called on her once already and had to make a quick getaway.

  “I’m pretty much running out of options.”

  She’d made it this far by pretending to be a servant whose master had ordered her to deliver a kijuu. Except that putting a twelve-year-old in charge of a kijuu and sending her alone on such a journey wasn’t any more believable.

  To make matters worse, the further south she went, the greater the civil unrest, and the harsher the eyes of the guests. In the last city, she’d skipped the inn and crawled beneath the floorboards of the cemetery shrine. She wasn’t looking forward to another night in a graveyard, and wanted to give Hakuto a good night’s rest too.

  Along with the rack and ruin, public order was worse in the south too. It wasn’t that disasters were choosey about the geography, but that the youma were working their way north. Perhaps sensing the youma presence, Hakuto grew especially agitated when the sun set. The night before, he’d growled from sundown to sunup. That was probably the reason for his pace being off today.

  Shushou could do worse than search for a yaboku to bed down under. She was guaranteed to be safe from harm beneath a yaboku. But she simply didn’t have the constitution to sleep out under cold winter skies like these.

  She could try her usual routine, put on a teary expression and beseech the nicest-looking innkeeper for a room. Or sidle up to a traveler and tell a pack of lies in order to convince him to let her to tag along. Though these strategies had proved equally futile on more than one occasion.

  “What a bother—” Shushou grumbled. When Hakuto answered with a low growl, as if taking her to task, she scratched him beneath his chin. “Sorry. Don’t worry about me,” she said reassuringly. “At the very least, I’m going to find a nice barn for you tonight.”

  But that didn’t reassure Hakuto. He didn’t stop growling as he turned his gaze toward the graveyard.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She wrapped her arms around Hakuto’s neck. A faint sound reached her ears. She tightened her hold. It very closely resembled Hakuto’s growl, the sound made by a species of tiger. Tigers weren’t normally found in Kyou. But youma that resembled tigers were showing up more frequently.

  The growl seemed to be coming from behind the cemetery shrine. Shushou hesitated, deciding whether to try and flee, or try to figure out what it was. Running away was the best option, but for some reason she couldn’t take off without first ascertaining what it was. At this moment, not knowing was the more frightening option.

  She wished to do both and wished to do neither. Frozen there in indecision, she again heard the growl. At the same time, a face peeked out from the corner of the shrine.

  Shushou choked down the cry in her throat, leapt to her feet and started to run away. With her arms still wrapped around Hakuto’s neck, she promptly fell on her face. She picked herself up and looked back at the shrine. And let out a sigh of relief.

  “Oh—!”

  The head was a size larger than Hakuto’s. Though it looked like a tiger, it quickly became apparent that it was not a tiger. She knew from having seen a tiger in a traveling circus that tigers had the same golden brown eyes as Hakuto’s. Plus, the reins made it clear that this was a kijuu.

  Shushou glared at the creature. “You scared me half to death!” She got to her feet and snuck a look behind the shrine. The kijuu made no attempt to flee, only eyed Shushou carefully.

  “But of course. A suugu.”

  The kijuu behind the cemetery shrine had on a saddle. It lay sprawled on the ground. A tail almost as long as its body reaching out behind it. It raised its head and looked quizzically at Shushou. She peered back into those eyes.

  “Wow, you have pretty eyes.”

  Like a pair of black pearls, but a black all the more intense, as if lit up ins
ide by brilliant points of light. Not even Banko could afford a suugu. Daring and resolute, the fastest of all the kijuu, it was not the kind of animal anyone could easily lay his hands on. She had seen the general of the Imperial Guard leading a procession on one.

  Shushou leaned closer, with a tip of her head asking whether it would mind being petted. Kijuu were wild animals at heart, accustomed only to being handled by their masters. This suugu seemed different. She’d heard they were especially intelligent as well.

  “Whoa, I’d watch it if I were you.”

  Shushou literally jumped at the voice, casting a hasty look over her shoulder. A man wrapped in a poncho was standing there.

  “A bite from him is just as likely to take off your whole arm as the tips of your fingers.” In contrast to the words, though, an affable smile rose to his face.

  “Is this your kijuu. It’s a suugu, right?”

  The man looked to be in his early twenties, even younger when he smiled. His dress was a cut above the average, a good match for the suugu. “I’m impressed. You know what a suugu is.”

  A suugu, after all, was not the kind of kijuu that ordinary people saw everyday.

  “I like kijuu. Do suugu bite?”

  “Depends on the temperament. Not often, but I wouldn’t say never. Better to play it safe and keep your hands off.”

  “No petting?”

  The man smiled and knelt down next to the suugu. He put his arm around its neck and said with a nod, “Go ahead. You must really like kijuu.”

  “I really do,” Shushou said, stroking the suugu’s broad forehead. The hair was stiffer than it appeared.

  “I see. So that moukyoku is the young lady’s?”

  Shushou glanced at the man’s cheerful face. “No, he belongs to my master. His name is Hakuto.”

  The man laughed softly. “What an interesting girl. She introduces her kijuu before herself.”

  “What’s wrong with that? My name is Shushou.”

  “This guy is Seisai.”

  Shushou grinned. “That’s a neat name. What about yourself?”

  “I’m Rikou.”

  Looking into his bright, friendly face, a thought struck her. “Are you from around here?” She spied the bags next to the suugu. “No, probably not, considering your bags.”

  “I’m a traveler.”

  “Are you staying in this town?”

  “That was my intent.”

  “I have a request. You do seem a man of good character.”

  “Do I now?” He responded in a voice both curious and amused.

  She raised her upturned eyes to his. “My master needs this kijuu delivered right away, but the thought of finding an inn at this hour leaves me ill at ease. It would seem awfully strange for a small girl like me to show up with kijuu in tow. Last night, all the inns turned me away.”

  “How awful! No inn on a cold night like this?”

  “Yes, indeed. I slept in the crawl space of the cemetery shrine. Pretty pathetic, don’t you think?”

  Rikou’s eyes grew a little wider. “That’s crazy! Don’t you know that youma are popping up all over the place?”

  “But I didn’t have anyplace else to stay.”

  “You’re a gutsy young lady. What would you do if you were attacked by a youma?”

  “It hasn’t happened so far. I must be doing something right and haven’t done anything to jinx it.”

  “I don’t think that’s the actual problem here.”

  “Spending all my time worrying about it won’t accomplish anything. But if I keep on sleeping in cemeteries every night, my luck’s bound to run out.”

  “I wouldn’t disagree with you on that. How far are you going?”

  “Um, to Ken.”

  Rikou couldn’t hide his surprise. “You mean all the way to the Reiken Gate? That Ken?”

  “Yes.”

  “You really are testing your luck. By yourself?”

  “It’s what the job entails, so I don’t have a choice. You’re staying in an inn, right? You’ll need stables for your suugu, right? I don’t suppose I could accompany you? I’ll pay my half, of course.”

  “Eh?”

  “Um, well, I had a letter of introduction from my master introducing me as a servant in his household who’d been asked to deliver his moukyoku—so please set your suspicions aside—but I, um, lost it.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “In any case, if I had to turn back now, my master would give me an earful. He is a really scary man. There is no telling what awful fate might befall me. But without that letter of introduction, none of the inns will take me seriously. And so I find myself in a real bind. Please help me out.”

  “Huh,” Rikou said, regarding Shushou with unfeigned delight.

  “If not, if you simply cannot agree, then take Hakuto. I will sleep in the stables with him. And if that is not acceptable, I’ll do whatever—”

  Rikou suddenly laughed. “I understand. A simple enough request. How about I call you my traveling companion?”

  “Really? Thank you. I am much obliged.”

  Rikou grinned and nodded. He stood up. “We’d better get going before the city gates close.”

  “Yes, yes,” said Shushou, racing back to her moukyoku.

  Rikou called out after her, “Miss, would you mind a friendly bit of advice?”

  Shushou stopped and turned. “What?”

  “If you’re going to tell a real whopper of a lie,” Rikou said, a big grin on his face, “I’d wager the more understated the lie the better.”

  Shushou gaped at him, then turned her face to the heavens and sighed.

  Chapter 6

  [1-6] Shushou pouted, “That’s what the shallow wisdom of a child will get you.”

  Thanks to Rikou’s help, they were in the dining hall of the inn. Shushou cradled the teacup in both hands, taking the chill out of her numb hands. She took a long breath and let it out.

  “Aw, you didn’t do half bad,” Rikou said with a smile. “I’ve seen worse.” He was seated across the table from her, warming his insides with a tankard of ale.

  “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I meant to do a lot better by myself. It’s just so irritating.”

  “That moukyoku is a big part of the problem.”

  “I couldn’t possibly make it to Ken without Hakuto. But wearing the kinds of outfits that the owner of a moukyoku should wear, I’d make myself a target for every highwayman along the way.”

  Raising the tankard to his mouth, Rikou paused. “So you are really going to Ken?”

  “I am.”

  “Where do you call home?”

  “Renshou. I wasn’t about to walk all the way from Renshou to Ken. Besides, I’m in a hurry.”

  “You have parents, I assume? And you left against their express wishes to the contrary?”

  “They certainly did not expressly wish me not to. My going to Ken is hardly the kind of thing they’d be likely to overlook.” She stopped and looked up at Rikou and said, “Well, ah, no. That’s not exactly true. Forget I said it.”

  Rikou smiled. “Too late. I’ve heard enough already. Don’t worry. I’m not about to turn you into the authorities. Were you a lost child, though, that’d be another story.”

  Shushou sighed. “I know enough to stay on my toes. But you struck me as a goodhearted person, so I wasn’t watching my tongue.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Rikou chuckled. “So I assume you left without telling anybody?”

  “Yeah. I ran away from home.”

  “My, my. Now things are getting serious. And all the way to Ken? What business do you have there?”

  “The Reiken Gate is there. I am going to Mt. Hou. Which isn’t to say that I know anybody who lives on Mt. Hou.”

  The smile vanished from Rikou’s face. He blinked. “Young lady, are you going on the Shouzan?”

  “Any reason why I shouldn’t?”

  For a long moment, Rikou stared intently at Shushou’s face.
Feeling a touch of self-consciousness, she met the look with upturned eyes.

  “No reason.” Rikou nodded. “No reason at all. However, it’s still a long ways from here to Ken. I came from the south. Things are even more chaotic down there than they are here. Finding a place to bed down at night will become increasingly difficult.”

  “Oh.” Shushou bit her lip. She didn’t like admitting it to herself but it’d been naive of her to think that a moukyoku alone would spare her most of the hardship on this journey.

  “That’s right. You need to have something in writing: The child bearing this letter has been entrusted with a kijuu. Please accommodate her in any way you can. Something like that. Get it stamped with an official seal and nobody will give it a second look. Because no matter how you dress it up, a young girl traveling alone with a kijuu is an odd sight.”

  Shushou’s eyes opened a bit wider. “Can you help me out?”

  “Do you understand what kind of journey you have ahead of you before you get to Mt. Hou?”

  “I understand. It’s dangerous, right?”

  “Sure is.” Rikou nodded and smiled again. “As long as you understand that much, then sure, why not?

  The next morning, Rikou had a letter of introduction notarized by the local representative of the Ministry of Fall. Shushou wasn’t familiar with the precise process, as the government building wasn’t the kind of place where a girl her age could just wander around. So she stayed outside with Hakuto and Rikou’s suugu.

  “Think this will do?”

  The substance of the certificate Rikou presented to her reflected their conversation the night before. The notary’s name and affixed seal turned it into an imposing-looking document.

  “Thank you,” she said, though not without a moment of hesitation.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, but—”

  Her father was identified as the owner of the kijuu and Shushou as the courier. She couldn’t have Rikou’s name on the document and risk him later showing up to claim Hakuto, though she didn’t believe Rikou was the kind of person who would do such a thing. Had her father’s name been written using the characters by which he was commonly known, there was no telling where in the Sou business empire it might come to light. Using his formal given name, though, that was much less of a concern.