Some stupid rooster crows before it’s even officially dawn. I yawn and turn over on my futon, reaching for the blanket.
Which isn’t there.
Dirt moves beneath my fingernails. No blanket, no tatami.
I wake up all the way, blinking, trying to get oriented. This has got to be a dream, right?
A bright yellow bird perches on top of Peyton’s sleeping head, trilling a high-pitched song. It looks down its orange beak at me before it flies away. Jinx snores beyond him, undisturbed.
The house is gone.
I look around, rubbing my eyes. A stack of rocks lies where the chimney was. A curvy indentation where the pond was now sits dry; the floor is a cracked red clay, encircling the small mound where we are.
Alone in the landscape, the willow’s dusty green branches still flutter softly in the breeze.
I get up and walk around, thinking that somehow we were moved in the middle of the night. My foot kicks some dried beans near where the doorway was. I reach down and put a few into my pocket.
“Jinx?” I whisper. I lean over, shake her.
“Ugh. Why’s it so bright?” She rolls over, covering her face with her arm. “Just a few more minutes, ’kay?”
A pile of gray grass stirs. I reach for my sword.
“Stay your hand, Momotaro,” I hear, in a vaguely familiar growl. The gray mound trembles as it stands on four legs. It shakes off what seems like a thousand years’ worth of twigs and dirt, showering me with debris.
It is a thin, old bear. His teeth are yellow and dull, his claws broken and brown.
“Kuma?” I almost fall forward, scrambling to get to him. “What happened? Where’s Kintaro?”
The ancient bear seems to smile sadly. Most of its teeth are missing. “Oh, long gone, I’m afraid.”
I look around wildly. “But how?…The house was here…I saw it!”
“Must you really ask how anymore?” the bear says. He sits back on his haunches. “Kintaro does not appear often. Only to those who need assistance, and not to everyone.” Kuma chuckles. “As those skulls inside the cave will tell you.”
“So why did he help us?” I ask.
Kuma blinks. “He saw you. That is all I know.”
“Well, how are we supposed to leave Peyton with him?” Jinx is alert and listening now.
Kuma lifts his upper lip. “Peyton would have gone into the other world with Kintaro until you returned. If you returned.”
“That doesn’t sound much better than this situation.” I glance over at Peyton.
Kuma moves his once-massive shoulders in a shrug. “Impossible to know.” He lumbers over to the fireplace rubble and digs around with his broken claws. “Kintaro wanted you to have this.”
From the ashes he unearths a package wrapped in brittle paper, tied up with ancient-looking string. The bear dangles it toward me on one claw.
I take it. Then, unsure of what I need to do, I bow. “Arigato.”
“What’s in it?” Jinx peers over my shoulder.
The string crumbles into dust when I touch it. Inside the package there’s a set of kimono clothes, exactly like what Kintaro was wearing. The blue-silver jacket, the wide-legged gray pants, and a silver sash, or obi.
“These are the clothes of a true samurai,” Kuma says.
I hold up the jacket. “Thank you.” It should be too big—Kintaro is (was) so much taller than me. But it looks like it’s my size.
“And, Jinx”—Kuma turns—“this, he left for you.” He hands her a smaller brown-paper package. “Be careful,” he advises as she tears off the wrapping.
Jinx yelps with excitement the way I do when I get a new video game. “A tantō!” Her eyes light up like a church full of candles as she shows us a thick, slightly curved dagger. It looks like a miniature version of my sword, with a carved ivory handle. “Oh boy!” She holds it out on her palms, the blade facing toward her. “Arigato gozaimasu.” Thank you very, very much. Then she leaps up and hugs the bear around his great neck. He closes his eyes briefly.
She lets go of him. “So Kintaro is really gone? Really truly gone?” Disappointment colors her voice like food coloring dropped into milk.
Now I feel kind of bad for giving Kintaro a hard time. When he wasn’t even really there. Or there only temporarily.
Kuma nods his great head once, then shakes his fur as though he’s tossing off water. He blinks at us and goes off into the rubble once again. “One more item for you, Xander.” Kuma noses a ball across the ground toward me, about the size of a basketball. Um, okay. I’m not going to be playing much basketball on my quest, but maybe Kintaro thought I’d be bored.
I pick it up. It’s not a ball at all, but a rounded helmet made of some kind of silver material. It comes up to a point on the top and its curves remind me of something natural. Like a piece of fruit. Like…
“This is shaped like a peach!” I exclaim.
“And look at this.” Jinx points to the emblem on the front. It is definitely a peach, the shape sticking out in relief, with crosshatched lines giving it depth.
“Is this silver?” I tap the helmet experimentally. It rings out with a hollow sound.
“Nah. Silver’s too soft and heavy—not good for armor.” Jinx taps it, too.
Kuma noses the helmet. “This was a gift to your forefather from the Moon King. It is made of a mineral from the moon.” He tosses it from paw to paw. “It is as light as a feather, but as hard as iron.” He holds it out to me.
Moon King? Cool. That particular story wasn’t in my unofficial Momotaro handbook (the comic book about him), but nothing surprises me. I take the helmet in both hands and place it on my head. I totally expect it to be heavy, but it’s really not any worse than wearing a baseball cap. A little visor sticks out above my eyebrows to shield my eyes from the sun—and maybe swords, too. And the inside is lined with something silky. I bow. “Arigato gozaimasu.”
Kuma nods.
I think about Kintaro’s last words to me. There can be more than one hero. Just because Kintaro is (was) a great warrior doesn’t mean that I, too, can’t be one.
And if Peyton is a good artist, that doesn’t mean I can’t also be a good artist. Or if one person is good-looking, that doesn’t mean everyone else in the world is ugly.
I feel lighter, like something heavy has been lifted off my chest. Or at least off my mind.
Jinx puts her hand on Kuma’s ruff. “You must be terribly lonely. Why don’t you come with us? You could help with Peyton.” She gestures to him, still sleeping, slack-jawed and oblivious to our chatter.
I’m not too sure about that suggestion. Kuma’s so old he can barely get around this small site. I don’t think he could walk up the mountain, much less carry Peyton. But what are we going to do now that Kintaro is definitely out of the picture? I should have taken the Golden Boy up on his offer. How was I supposed to know that he was going to disappear at dawn? Why didn’t he wake me? Instead, he just left it up to me, like I’m a responsible person or something.
Kuma takes a step away from Jinx. “My place is here.” He nods toward an obelisk made of solid gray stone, about the same height as me, covered with Japanese characters. A grave marker. “I am waiting for the moment when my master and I will reunite.”
Jinx and I bow our heads toward the stone. Then Jinx puts her hand on it. “Good-bye, Kintaro.”
I steal a look at her face, afraid she’s crying, but she just gives me a placid nod.
Kuma points at a path going up the mountain. “Fudō’s shrine is on one of the peaks. I don’t know which. That trail is the closest and will take you to the southernmost peak. Good luck.”
The clothes Kintaro gave me seem too fancy to wear on a quest, but then again, they brought him luck, so why not? I go behind a tree to change, putting the jacket on over my T-shirt and trading my jeans for the new pants. Just like I thought, they fit perfectly. They’re a stiff sort of silk, substantial but light.
When I emerge, Jinx raises her eyebr
ows. “Snazzy!” She waves her fingers at my head. “Really brings out the silver.”
“That’s what I’m going for,” I reply. Jinx and I each put one of Peyton’s arms around our shoulders. “Bye, Kuma,” I call. “Thanks for everything!”
The bear smiles—or smiles as much as a bear can. “Iie,” he replies. It was nothing.
Slowly, we walk up the trail, heading southeast to the peak, Peyton between us, his weight divided between Jinx and me. Somehow he’s managing to hold on enough for us to support him. His head lolls on his chest like a sleeping airline traveler as his feet shuffle forward. I don’t know how he’s moving at all, to tell you the truth. All I know is that every muscle in my body aches like it’s about to pop.
Suddenly I’m glad that Dad made us do those workouts, running up the mountain with heavy packs and weights on. If not for that, there’s no way we’d be able to help Peyton now. I don’t want to tell Dad that, though, in case he goes crazy with even more training and is all I told you so!
Are he and Mom and Obāchan and Inu as bad off as Peyton? I speed up as much as I can, which isn’t much. We have to finish this quest today, no matter what.
The sky turns dark and gloomy with roiling thunderheads in the distance. I don’t love how it looks, but I figure we’ll be okay if there’s a storm. The trail we’re on has two steep banks on either side, so it’s like we’re walking in a long ditch. If lightning strikes, it’ll hit one of the trees high above, not us. I hope. Besides, we have no choice. We have to get to Fudō-Myōō, even if a hurricane blasts up.
Stupid Fudō-Myōō. How does he expect people to find his shrine if he doesn’t have a sign? I mean, what’s the point of a secret shrine? You won’t get any offerings or pilgrims that way, that’s for sure.
Jinx walks with her gaze cast down. Trudge, trudge, trudge. She’s the embodiment of the word. I trip over a tree root, and she doesn’t even make a snarky comment about my lack of coordination.
Okay, something’s wrong. “What’s up, Jinx?”
“Nothing.” The sad look gets wiped off her face. “Just thinking about Kintaro.”
“ ’Cause you’re in love with someone who’s a ghost?” I say sympathetically. I thought so. I pat her awkwardly on the shoulder.
Her eyes spark fire—figurative, not literal. “No! I just think it’s sad that he only appears every once in a while, and the bear has to wait there, watching for him.” She wipes at her nose. “Isn’t that the most awful thing you ever heard?”
“Jinx.” I tighten my grip on Peyton as we navigate across a long swatch of round rocks. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot of stuff like that going on around here. Like those people who got eaten and turned into orb bait. If you want my advice, don’t think about that too much. We can’t do a single thing to help him.”
“Well, I don’t want your advice. It’s not going to help.” She slips, and we stop so she can get readjusted.
“Of course it will. You just won’t listen.” I adjust my sweaty grip around Peyton’s shoulder, and we crawl on, one big blobby moist creature.
I sigh at her as loud as I can. My not-particularly-minty-fresh breath ruffles her bangs. She makes a face and sighs back toward me. Her breath smells like week-old rotting trash. One thing we forgot: toothbrushes.
Peyton jerks awake with a gasp, his face creased with disgust.
“Now we’ve done it. Our bad breath woke up Peyton.” I stop and examine him. His skin is still an unhealthy color, more blue now than it was at Kintaro’s house. An uneasy knot forms in my gut. Not good. Not good at all.
“Where am I?” His eyes dart around.
“In the middle of the wilderness. But no worries.” I keep my tone cheerful. “We’ve got it under control.”
We’ve arrived at a small clearing, where there is a thin covering of snow with a few patches of grass sticking out of it.
“Rest,” Peyton says, managing to nod toward a group of boulders.
“Sure, dude.” I could use a rest, too.
Jinx and I help him sit against a rock, bending his legs and waist as if he’s a Ken doll we’re seating on doll furniture. Immediately his spine melts and his head sinks between his knees.
I pat his back. “You okay?”
“Urgh.” His voice is muffled.
Jinx and I exchange a look of concern. “How are we ever going to get him to stand up again?” I ask.
“We shouldn’t stop at all.” Jinx arches her back as if it hurts. “We’ll never reach the peak before sunset.”
I know this, too. A day-old baby would know it. We need to get this done—yesterday. Maybe Fudō can come here. “Fudō-Myōō! Come out, come out wherever you are!” My voice echoes across the valley.
No response except the not-too-distant rumble of thunder from the black clouds studding the sky. I sniff the air. Rain’s coming. Just what we need.
“Fudō!” I shout again, louder. “Fudō-Myōō!”
Nothing, nothing, nothing. And a little more nothing.
I sigh and reach into the backpack for a can of green tea for Peyton. I pop it open and hold it under his nose. “Drink this. Maybe the caffeine will help.”
His arms move like slow windmills from his doubled-over position. “Help.”
Jinx and I each take a shoulder and heave him upright. I place my pack between him and another rock, and he leans back against it. I hold the can up to his mouth, and he takes a tiny sip. Then he looks at me, focusing for the first time since yesterday. “Sorry,” he breathes.
“Shut up. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” I offer him the tea again.
Peyton blinks rapidly, but there’s no emotion in his eyes. They’re as blank as a doll’s eyes. I look away. “I shoulda stayed home,” he says dully.
“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right.” Jinx kicks a rock like a soccer ball, pinging it far up the trail.
I suppress the urge to snarl at her. Instead, I say through clenched teeth, “Remember what Dad said? Is it helpful? Is it kind? Is it necessary? If not, don’t say it.”
Jinx laughs. “Like you ever take that advice.”
“At least I remember it.” I turn to Peyton. “She’s just cranky because her boyfriend was a ghost.”
“I DO NOT LIKE KINTARO!” Jinx shouts. “Not in that way.”
I ignore her. “Anyway, Peyton, you’d do the same for me.”
“Yeah,” Peyton says softly. “But if you can’t take me, then leave me.”
“Yeah,” I repeat, holding up the can of tea again. “And I’ll cut off my left foot for no reason while I’m at it. Nobody’s leaving anybody. So just do what you can and we’ll do the rest, okay?”
“Hey.” Jinx points to the ground ahead of us. “It’s going to be tough to get Peyton across this, with all these rocks.”
The path is completely covered with loose stones. It will be quite a Slip’N Slide situation. “We’ll just go slow.”
I pick up a round rock, and it triggers a memory. A lesson—okay, lecture—from Dad. During our last hike, when I was bitten by the oni scorpion. Naturally, I’d tuned him out then. But he’d said something about the rocks…. What was it?
I look around, at the rocks, and the steep banks on either side of us.
Dots of water sprinkle my face and the clouds rumble. “Let’s find some shelter.”
“Good idea.” Jinx throws Peyton’s arm around her shoulder, and he rises like an animatronic robot.
Rocks. Water. Now the information nudges its way out of my brain like a piece of new grass. “We’re in a riverbed!”
A flash of lightning temporarily blinds me. Then thunder shakes us and the ground we’re standing on. The clouds open and pour water as if someone’s standing above us with a bucket.
Rivulets of liquid and gravel start trickling down the path toward us.
I hear a rumbling sound. Get out of the riverbed! I can hear Dad yell. Flash flood!
“Get out!” I shout. “Get up the bank!”
“Get up there. I’ll push.” I go behind Peyton. “Can you crawl?” I ask him. “Just crawl up to Jinx.”
“Ungh.” His hands automatically splay, seeking grips among the vegetation. I guess he can only grunt because all his energy’s going toward his physical activity. A good thing.
“Attaboy!” Jinx gets a grip under his armpits.
“Come on, Peyton!” I push on his bottom, but it’s like trying to urge an earthworm to win a race. “Little farther!” I yell encouragingly to him, though I’m not sure he can understand me in his half-sleep state. “You can do it!” I shove my shoulder against the seat of his jeans. Now would be a really bad time for him to toot, I think fleetingly. My helmet’s uncomfortable now, pressing on Peyton and against my head, and I take it off and toss it onto the bank.
The rumbling gets louder, as if a fleet of trucks is about to drive by too fast. “Xander!” Jinx screeches, and points.
I look up just in time to see a wall of water and boulders and rocks and debris hurtling down the mountain straight toward us.
I have just enough time to give Peyton a good shove upward before the cold water hits me and I go horizontal. I scrabble for something to cling on to, but my hands find nothing. I ricochet off the riverbank with an oof, and my backpack with all its supplies is wrenched off of me.
“Xander!” Jinx screams again, from farther away, and I look up to see her and Peyton on the edge of the embankment. Good. Peyton’s safe.
“I’ll meet you downstream!” I try to call to her, but I doubt she hears me because water fills my mouth.
The flash flood carries me off, jostling me like a tennis ball in a washing machine. Something sharp hits my rib cage, and a crack like a wishbone snapping comes from inside my chest. I yelp in pain, but there’s nothing I can do except try to keep my chin above water and take lifesaving gulps of air.
“Xander!” I hear again and again, but I think it’s my imagination because I’m going too fast for Jinx to follow and I know I’m zigzagging all over the place, as though this river is a pinball machine.
Xander and the Dream Thief Page 13