The Wings of Dreams

by Fuyumi Ono

  “Shoutan,” one of his companions wheezed, “do you think maybe the master is really gone?”

  At this point, Shoutan had to face facts. “Yeah. Sure looks like it.”

  He let out a long breath. The painful stitch in his side told him his forty-plus year old body couldn’t take much more of this.

  “The master has got to be resting with the others. If we keep going—”

  Shoutan stopped and took a breath. He had a hard time believing what he was saying. Kiwa had taken off at a full gallop. Nobody on foot was about to catch up with him. Even if they managed to close the distance while Kiwa was resting, all it’d take was that youma showing up and Kiwa would be gone in a flash. They’d be eating his dust all over again.

  The man running behind Shoutan sank to his knees. “Dammit to hell.”

  “Hey!” Shoutan called out.

  But the man shook his head. “I’ve had enough. I can’t run another inch.”

  Shoutan stopped as well. Another man sat where he was standing and lay down on the ground. And yet another followed his example.

  Surely if they kept running they would catch up with Kiwa. But any desire to exhort his companions onward died as well. Shoutan sat down in the middle of the road. His breath was raw in his throat. His body felt like there was a big, hot rock lodged in his side. He lay down.

  The youma was coming. It’d followed them all this way. Another attack was inevitable. Kiwa was only opening the distance between them. But he couldn’t care less.

  Nobody said anything. They sat there and lay there and took one ragged breath after the other. A group tailing even farther behind caught up with them. They looked at down at Shoutan and the others. Shoutan and the others looked up at them. Nobody said a word.

  Their faces twisted in distress. Like a levee giving way they collapsed to the road with a collective gasp. Still nobody spoke. The moon rose. More of Kiwa’s abandoned company arrived in drips and drabs, filling the wash at the base of the hill.

  Their master had abandoned them. They were hauling the hand carts when the screams erupted and the master’s wagon disappeared into the distance. Knowing they would catch hell for it afterwards, they abandoned the carts and ran after him. They couldn’t outrace three teams of horses.

  In the middle of the savanna, they came across another band of stragglers. Now it was just them. And the youma.

  Most of those going on the Shouzan had horses, so the majority of those left behind belonged to Kiwa’s retinue, along with an equally unlucky few whose employers had died, leaving them no choice but to soldier on.

  At any rate, they’d run away as fast as their own two feet would take them. Fighting for each breath, they fled the last place the youma sprang on them from the surrounding field. They didn’t feel any safer. The youma would win any footrace. Without a horse or kijuu, there was no secure place to run to.

  Such thoughts spinning through their minds, their legs turned to lead. Once the sheer futility of their efforts welled up in their hearts, they couldn’t take another step.

  By the time the moon rose over the eastern horizon, a hundred travelers had crowded into the dry wash at the base of the hill. They sat there in silence, broken by the occasional curse hurled at the heavens. Such outbursts went unanswered.

  “The night’s coming on.” This observation of the obvious floated like a puff of smoke above the heavy silence.

  “Yeah,” Shoutan answered.

  The night was coming on. The dangers would multiply. While they were all sitting there, that youma was drawing ever closer.

  “Like that makes any difference,” somebody spat out.

  Shoutan nodded to that too. They’d been tossed aside like such much refuse. Not a single one of them came to the Yellow Sea because he wanted to. They’d followed their master.

  Shoutan was one of Kiwa’s live-in servants. Ordered to accompany him, he couldn’t refuse. And so he’d ended up here. He’d walked a long, long way while his master rode on his wagon, never out of his sight. When his master rested, he worked. And then Kiwa cast him aside and saved his own skin.

  When the youma attacked, Shoutan and the others fled on foot. The horses and fleet-footed kijuu made good their escape. They were stuck here. That was pretty much the sum of it.

  “What an asshole,” somebody blurted out.

  Shoutan couldn’t help but agree. “Definitely.”

  “He travels in the lap of luxury all thanks to us, and then when the going gets tough uses us as human shields.”

  “Yeah, he saves himself and runs off to Mt. Hou. Hey, don’t let the likes of us slow you down or nothing.”

  “If he’s lucky, he gets made emperor and lives the high life forever.”

  “Huh. Like a guy who abandons his servants will ever become emperor.”

  “I wouldn’t bet against it. A bunch of good-for-nothings are running this world.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Either way, we are never going to know.”

  “Yeah. It’s not like we’re gonna see the gates of Mr. Hou get slammed in their faces.

  “Hell, I’ll be happy enough never having to see the likes of him get any more full of himself than he already is.”

  A ripple of derisive laughter filled the hollow. Shoutan had to smile as well. He couldn’t do anything else.

  “Hey—”

  The tense exclamation made Shoutan reflexively draw himself into a defensive crouch. For all of his not giving a damn, that could only be the warning of a youma attack. He was already on his feet and making ready to run for it. He wasn’t the only one. They held their lives dear, after all.

  “Something’s coming—”

  They drew a simultaneous breath and glanced up the incline that marked the way forward. Those resting at the edge of the wash craned their necks to peer over the edge.

  “A youma?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a person.”

  “Coming this way.”

  They all gulped in expectation and faced forward.

  “One person.”

  “But that’s—”

  The men lined up along the rim of the wash clamped their mouths shut. Perched on the forward slope, Shoutan could hear the tiny footsteps too. In the dead calm, each footstep rang out clearly. Then another sound fell down on them like a gentle, warm rain.

  “Is somebody in there?”

  The footsteps quickened. A small figure appeared atop the sloping bank of the wash.

  “Are you all right?”

  The question brimmed with concern. The people in the wash had pooled there like sluggish runoff. Now they instinctively answered all at once. Shoutan was no exception. This one girl had come back. She could surely do something for them. But that wasn’t what mattered at the moment. They knew she wasn’t a servant. She was going on the Shouzan.

  The muddled mix of voices became a cry of joy. Taken aback by this reaction, the girl cast her confused gaze across the wash. “You do seem happy to see me. I’m sorry to say that I have no weapons or any other provisions. Just me.”

  “That’s fine with us,” somebody answered.

  “Oh? Is everybody okay? Is anybody injured?” The girl answered her own questions with a wry smile. “Everybody could hardly be okay. Still, that this many managed to escape is reason enough to rejoice.”

  Shoutan looked up at her full of grateful expectations. It shouldn’t be a question of whether somebody going on the Shouzan would do anything for them. A person going on the Shouzan should by all means be concerned for their lives and safety.

  The girl descended into the wash. She took in the crowd before her and said, “Where are your travel packs?”

  Almost as if taking the question as a reprimand, one man admitted that he’d tossed his aside and taken off running.

  “Yes, when you’re running for your life, such things would get in the way. But we must go back and fetch them. We won’t get far after this without food and water.”


  After this, Shoutan repeated to himself.

  The girl stopped a few feet away. She turned and said, “Oh, you’re one of Shitsu-san’s attendants. It’s good to see that you’re okay.”

  “Yes, um—”

  “Let’s go back and retrieve your packs. Is there anybody here who can’t walk?”

  “But—”

  “Stay here and we’ll eventually die of hunger and thirst. We need those supplies. Food and water. How many here have enough to provision themselves?”

  A few hands went up here and there.

  “Meaning there is hardly enough for the rest of us. Yes, we have to go back.”

  “But—” Go back and do what? To start with, they didn’t have any horses.

  “But what? We need those supplies, don’t we? Without them, we might as well abandon any hope for the future.” Shushou smiled. “I’m walking all the way to Mt. Hou. After all, youma aren’t allowed on Mt. Hou. C’mon. Let’s go.”

  Shushou spoke as if proposing to go out for a stroll. She crossed the wash and started up the other side.

  “But—Miss—Shushou-sama—”

  “We came this far on foot, did we not? The distance we have left before us is considerably less what we’ve covered so far. A fortnight, I reckon. And we’ve been on the road for almost a month. This is hardly the time or place to start voicing complaints.”

  “But—the youma—”

  “Haven’t youma been popping up all along the way? Outside the Yellow Sea as well. That you’ve made it this far means that you’ve got luck on your side. And from here on out, it’s hardly possible that all of us will get killed.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “But without food and water, none of us will live long.”

  “Except we’ll have to make the journey back from Mt. Hou too!”

  “Yes. The shushi who accompanied me brought along provisions for two, enough to last the round trip, and it wasn’t more than what a strong man could carry on his back. In any event, let’s worry about getting to Mt. Hou first. Once we’re there, I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “Work what out?”

  “Doesn’t the kirin reside on Mt. Hou? A group this large wasting away in front of the his gate will get his attention right away. He’s certainly not going to stand by while his retainers show us to the curb. At the end of the day, we should end up with enough to get by. The kirin is bound to be a better chap than the master who abandoned you in the Yellow Sea. He’s a creature of mercy and compassion, right?”

  Shoutan opened his mouth to respond and laughed instead. “I suppose so.”

  “Then let’s be on our way. Even that youma’s not going to loiter in the same place forever. It’s not like something like this has never happened before. We’ll go back and sort through the provisions and carry only what we need to get to Mt. Hou.”

  Around her, people slowly got to their feet.

  “That’s right! Chins up. When we get to Mt. Hou, who knows? It’s not unheard of for the kirin to chose the common man. Servant or master, you’ll still end up meeting the kirin. In a very real way, servants go on the Shouzan too. So buck up and put on your best face.”

  Buoyed by her words, they started back down the road. She can’t possible be that naive, Shoutan thought to himself. Nevertheless, a spark of hope grew in his heart. This girl’s glimpse of the future momentarily focused his attention on his own—a life that a few minutes before didn’t matter now amounted to more than nothing.

  “Don’t spread out. Close ranks. Stay aware of your surroundings. If you spot what looks like a youma, give a shout. If you hear that shout, think of yourself first and run.”

  “But that youma is faster.”

  Shushou sighed. “Yes, it is. But running is better than standing still. So run away and hide behind a bush or a boulder.”

  Shoutan gaped at her. “Hide? How is hiding—”

  “If there aren’t any bushes or boulders around, lie flat on the ground. No matter how close it gets, don’t move and don’t make a sound. Youma have a hard time spotting humans in situations like that. It’s terrifying but it’s your best strategy. That’s what I did and it saved me. You remember that?”

  “Ah.” Shoutan nodded.

  “I saw that youma sitting on the limb of a tree right over my head, no further away from me than you are. I managed to stomach my fear and stay very still. That’s why I’m standing here right now.”

  The story had already gotten around. That lent an extra weight to the words of a girl who’d been that close to a youma and lived to tell the tale.

  So encouraged, in fits and starts, they made their way back down the road. They came across their discarded supplies around dawn. As before, the youma had left the bodies of the dead behind. They hastily gathered up their belongings. But by the time they’d fashioned them into traveling packs, they were exhausted and in no condition to resume the march.

  “Of course,” the girl said, observing the sun peeking over the eastern horizon. “There are fewer places to hide here during the day, so the youma shouldn’t be as active. We should rest too.”

  “During the day. Then the best time to walk—”

  “—is at night. The visibility is poor and there are plenty of places to hide. No doubt about it, that makes traveling on foot dangerous. There’s no telling where youma might be lurking. But if the visibility improves even slightly, on a moonlit night, for example, you’ll be able to notice any approaching shadows.”

  “I—suppose so.”

  “Youma aren’t at their strongest during the day. They’ve got good night vision. Light washes out their eyesight. People don’t make noise or move around when they’re sleeping. Bedding down under a bush or behind a rock just might make you too hard to hunt down.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “So it’s decided. We’ll sleep now. Come evening, we’ll resume our journey. Keep your packs close at hand. Water, in particular, like it’s attached to your wrist. Anywhere else is too far away.”

  After that, to make sure they didn’t get split up again, Shushou chose a site with a good view of the surrounding area. At some point, she’d assumed command of this motley crew, if for no other reason than nobody else objected or volunteered. They’d grown up being ordered around and quailed when given too much discretion to accomplish a task.

  Though the youma attacks continued, those catching the brunt of them bore up stoically while the rest scattered, hiding under bushes and behind rocks as Shushou instructed. Each incident further confirmed the usefulness of the strategy and the overall attitude picked up as well.

  When an attack came, they grabbed the hand of their nearest companion and fled into the wilderness. Remaining silent and still took an extraordinary amount of courage. By and by, though, they learned that sharing the terror with another person made it that much easier.

  After the youma was done with its mayhem, they went back, gathered up their belongings, and left. After three days and nights of taking one step back for every two steps forward, there were fewer people and fewer supplies.

  But the great majority remained in good condition. The band of refugees steadily continued their forward progress.

  Chapter 29

  [4-6] Kinhaku crouched down on the road and examined the packed dirt. “I don’t see any wagon tracks.”

  “Kiwa hasn’t arrived yet.”

  The caravan had continued on through the forest, come across the markers previously left by the goushi, and proceeded into the savanna. After following a narrow valley, they returned to the road. No youma attacked during that time and the going wasn’t unusually difficult.

  But when they merged back onto the road, there was no sign of Kiwa and the others.

  The day was bright and clear. Kinhaku turned to Gankyuu. “Think he got attacked?”

  “I’d count on it,” was the shushi’s blunt response.

  “What should we do?”

  “What else can we
do? The sun’s rising. We make camp. If they’re alive, they should arrive while we’re sleeping. They’re not smart enough to hold the high ground during the day and travel at night.”

  Kinhaku nodded and returned his attention to the road. They’d been attacked by the youma, or else—

  The road detoured around small, rocky hill. Scanning the surroundings at the top of the rise, he couldn’t see even a cloud of dust in the distance. Swallowing his disappointment, he turned to Gankyuu. The shushi had already gone to look for a campsite.

  Kinhaku shook his head. “A shushi is as a shushi does, eh?”

  Shushi weren’t goushi. Goushi knew the ghastly turns a Shouzan could take when a phoenix was lost. Kinhaku hadn’t experienced it himself, but based on what he’d heard from the old-timers, he could well imagine.

  When his fellow goushi asked him the same question he’d asked Gankyuu, he told them to make camp.

  “And if they don’t show up by the time we wake up?”

  His answer differed little from Gankyuu’s. “What can we do? If they encountered that youma, maybe two or three will scrape through and eventually show up. All we can do is cross our fingers and wait.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to send a rescue party? At the very least have a runner—”

  Kinhaku interrupted him with a sharp look. “Don’t go speculating about what might happen next! Talk like that’s gonna jinx the good fortune Shinkun has given us so far.”

  They remained there until sundown. Nobody appeared on the road. The goushi calmed down the others who wanted to charge on ahead and convinced them to stay the night. The next day as the afternoon wore on, a cloud of dust rose in the distance.

  The dust arose from the far reaches of the road as it skirted a low cliff. They could see stones tumbling into the dry river bottom at the bottom of the valley.

  “Somebody’s coming!”

  A cheer arose as the dozen or so men riding horses and several sad excuses for kijuu came down the road. They spotted the crowd waiting for them and sprinted the rest of the way, the relief painted on their faces.