His voice was shaking and squeaky. He was sweating again too. It was morning in this world. The early sun came in through the window, making his head glisten brightly.
“You don’t have to be scared,” U-ri said, turning to him. “These books here are my friends. Just like the Archdevout said—”
“That’s right,” Aju agreed. “Stand and greet us. If you insist on cowering every time you meet someone, you’ll only be a bother to your master.”
The boy devout managed to look up and immediately began to apologize.
Still holding Aju in her arms, U-ri found a place for the two of them to sit among the piles of books. “Here, sit down. Let’s catch our breath for a moment.” U-ri sat on the stepladder she’d used before. For the younger devout, she motioned toward a small stool hiding between two of the teetering stacks of books. He went over and sat down with a wary look at the stool, as though it might bite him.
“So, you have brought back a servant,” said another familiar voice. U-ri turned around, looking for the Sage.
“Is that you, Sage? We’re back,” U-ri announced herself.
There was no response.
Even though the reading room was gradually brightening, the morning light did not completely drown out the paler light of the books. Except now the room looked less like a planetarium and more like a hidden cave filled with glittering jewels.
“Where is the Sage?” U-ri asked, standing. Eventually, she heard him speak from directly ahead of her, high up on one of the shelves.
“Lady U-ri, what will you name your servant?”
His voice sounded very somber to her, not that he was ever as lighthearted and easygoing as Aju was. But U-ri thought she detected something else in his voice—he sounded displeased. The young devout seemed to have noticed it too, for he ducked his head again and drew his legs up onto the stool.
“I’m still thinking about that,” U-ri replied, her own voice growing more serious. “Is something wrong? Was I not supposed to bring him back?”
The Archdevout hadn’t said anything like that. He said the Hollow Book had chosen the young devout. She had to bring him back—she didn’t have any choice. U-ri explained all this, wondering what could be bothering the Sage.
Again there was no answer. The Sage’s deep green light winked slowly, as though he were deep in thought.
“Are you angry?” U-ri stood and began to move the stepladder over toward the wall. She thought it might help if she could pick the Sage up and talk to him directly.
“I’m not angry. Please be seated, Lady U-ri.”
She noticed that the Sage was even more polite than he had been before—it was almost embarrassing to have everyone calling her “lady.”
“I am not angry. It is only that the nameless devout are, as a rule, never to leave the nameless land. That one would break away and join you as your servant indicates most unusual circumstances—circumstances of which I believe you have not yet been informed.”
The young devout bowed his head even deeper. The collar of his robes shifted, revealing part of one emaciated shoulder.
“Circumstances?”
From U-ri’s lap, Aju spoke. “If it was decided in the nameless land that he should go with her, then I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Silence, Aju,” a female voice said. “You’re still young. There is much you do not understand.”
U-ri looked at Aju—she sensed that he returned her gaze, or would have, were he human.
“Tell us then,” the Sage inquired of the young devout, “why is it that you have come here with the Lady U-ri?”
U-ri felt as though the weight of every book in the room had become a heavy silence, pressing down on her head. She heard a sound—the young devout’s teeth were chattering. U-ri immediately felt sorry for him. Why is the Sage being so harsh? She felt like she was looking at herself a few days before. She remembered how frightened she had been, how sad, how she had curled up in a ball and clenched her fists and trembled.
“I-I was…” the young devout’s throat was dry, his voice constricted. “I have lost the right to be one of the nameless devout.”
U-ri’s eyes opened wide. Nobody told me anything like that! “What do you mean?” she asked before she could think better of it. The nameless devout flinched back as though he had been pricked by a needle. U-ri’s words seemed almost physically painful to him. “I’m sorry, it’s okay. Don’t be frightened. I’m not angry. It’s just, I’m starting to feel like there are a great many things the Archdevout didn’t tell me. And I’m starting to wonder what’s going on. Aren’t you all?” she asked the books around them, but there was no response.
“I feel the same way you do, U-ri,” Aju offered at last. “And I’m not sure why everyone seems so put out.” U-ri sensed him glaring at the Sage. “Let’s hear what the boy has to say and make our judgments after that.”
“That boy is an apostate,” the Sage said curtly. “He has admitted as much himself.”
“Yeah, but the Archdevout chose him. The same thing with U-ri—”
“There are no ranks among the nameless devout. Thus, there can be no orders given from one to another. This one who called himself the Archdevout was merely identifying himself as such for the benefit of Lady U-ri. He has no authority to choose nor recognize anyone.”
This silenced even Aju. He and U-ri exchanged glances again.
“It’s strange for an allcaste to have a servant?” U-ri asked the Sage. “Is this unusual? Is that why you don’t like it? Didn’t you tell me yourself that the nameless devout would help me?”
The Sage hmmed thoughtfully for a moment before replying. “I did not mean they would aid you in this particular way, and since they have, there must be a reason for it, Lady U-ri.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“So let’s hear what the reason is. Then we’ll know, right? And I really think you’re scaring him. I…I really don’t want you threatening my servant.”
U-ri hadn’t intended it, but her voice seemed to have gained an air of authority. The Sage’s green light grew duller.
“I have spoken out of place, and I apologize,” the Sage said gravely. “Let us do as the Lady U-ri advises.”
U-ri blinked. “Oh—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go against you.” Now I’ve done it. U-ri wondered what a grown-up would do in this situation. Maybe cough or something to change the mood? She tried coughing. It didn’t seem to have much of an effect.
“Right, well, look—” U-ri turned back to the young devout. “You just said something that I hadn’t heard before that sounded very important. Could you tell me more? Why were you no longer able to be a nameless devout?”
U-ri watched the young devout—who seemed completely unable to stop shivering—and remembered something she had heard in the nameless land. Weren’t the nameless devout supposed to be sinners of some kind? Wouldn’t it be a good thing to lose your qualifications to be one, then? If you ceased to be a nameless devout, weren’t you free of sin?
The young devout looked up at her. He blinked and opened his mouth as though he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out exactly what.
The weighty voice of the Sage cut in again. “I would inform the Lady U-ri that nameless devout can never truly be freed. Once a soul has become a nameless devout, they will never be anything but.”
“But this one here—”
“If a nameless devout loses his right to be a nameless devout, then he becomes nothing. He is nothing!” the Sage practically shouted.
Yuriko jerked back. Her tongue curled up in her mouth. He’s scary when he’s mad. Mrs. Kiuchi at school could be scary sometimes, but it was nothing like this.
“If you will permit me—” the young devout began.
“Go on,” U-ri urged. “Permit what?” She was about to go over and hold his hand again. He looked like he needed it.
“If you will permit me, Lady U-ri, I will tell you why I was cast out of the nameless lan
d.”
Cast out?
“You can have all the permission you want. But what’s this about you being cast out? You weren’t cast out.”
He was chosen to follow me, wasn’t he?
The young devout shook his head. He was trembling again, and his teeth were chattering loudly. “No, Lady U-ri, I was c-cast out. For to be chosen by the Hollow Book is to become an outcast.”
“Well, nobody ever told me that!”
The young devout slumped, clutching at the collar of his black robes with tight fingers. He looked like a little lost child.
“Remember when the Archdevout told you to take me with you?”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t it seem to you like he was in a hurry? Could you not hear the harshness in his tone?”
In truth, she had. The Archdevout had sounded very displeased with her new servant—just as the Sage had a moment ago.
“He was in a hurry because he had very little time to remove me from the nameless land…for I had been defiled.”
“You were defiled? Why? Because the book chose you?”
The young devout bowed deeply. “Yes, but you have the order reversed. The Hollow Book chose me because I had been defiled.”
“Then how were you defiled?”
The young devout clutched at his collar and swallowed dryly a couple times. “In the nameless land, the First Bell is rung to mark the escape of the Hero. The only other time that bell is rung is when the Hero is imprisoned. Yet the bell rings differently on each occasion so that any who hear it might know immediately what it means.”
“So you heard it when the Hero broke out of its prison. Had you heard the bell ring before?”
The young devout nodded. His teeth had stopped chattering. “Yes, when the Hero was bound. I cannot say how long ago it was because there is no time in the nameless land. But I can say that when the Hero escaped, that was the first time I had ever heard the bell ring in that way. I knew immediately what had happened. The Hero was free—” the young devout closed his eyes.
“And the knowledge of that moved me,” he said, shuddering as though he were deeply mortified by the admission. Around them, it seemed as though the books were holding their breath. “The Hero had escaped into the Circle. At the moment I knew that, I felt something in my heart—a heart I should not possess.”
U-ri didn’t know what to say to that.
“I knew there would be war,” young devout continued. “A hunt would begin to chase down the Hero and bring it back to the nameless land. That is what the ringing of the First Bell told me. That is what moved me.”
U-ri breathed out slowly. “Pardon me if I’m getting this wrong, but are you saying that you heard something big was going on, so you got excited?”
The young devout shrank back again, rooted to the spot. He was hugging himself with both arms. “Yes,” he replied in a tiny voice. “Yes, that is what happened.”
“Excited? So that’s what you call it,” the Sage said. U-ri thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in the Sage’s harsh voice. “He admits that the escape of the Hero brought change to that changeless land, and his heart leapt, his soul stirred, he knew joy!”
Something else had crept into the Sage’s voice as he spoke. Fear. The Sage was afraid. He was frightened by what U-ri’s servant had said.
What’s going on here? The Sage is just as frightened as the Archdevout was when he opened the casket and took out the Hollow Book.
A heavy silence descended upon the room. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the young devout. He seemed ready to cry or scream.
“Aren’t you being a little hard on him?” U-ri turned to the Sage, trying to hide her own surprise at all of this. “I think I understand what he’s saying. If I were forced to live in a place like that, doing the same thing over and over, I’d be happy about a little change myself.”
She pictured the devout at their endless task. Day after day pushing those giant wheels. The only thing even slightly unpredictable in their world was the movement of the sparks that rose from their torches.
“But, Lady U-ri, the nameless devout exist solely to push the Great Wheels of Inculpation.”
“Why, because they are sinners? Because they tried to ‘live’ a story?”
Once again, the books in the reading room held their breath. Only Aju seemed unperturbed.
“Look, what I don’t get is, if they committed a sin and are being punished, why doesn’t the punishment ever end? Maybe when my servant’s heart leapt, it was a sign that he had already paid off his debt and was ready to become a human again!”
Nobody said a word. The young devout looked up, but before he could speak, Aju whispered to her. He was glowing very dimly. “Sorry, U-ri, but I don’t think that’s right. That’s not like what I know about the nameless devout. Their labors are never supposed to end.”
“So they’re never forgiven? Ever?”
“There is no ‘ever’ in a place without time.”
U-ri pouted, sticking out her lip. That’s just too cruel. How could that possibly be fair?
“It is true. Our sins are never forgiven, Lady U-ri,” the young devout said softly.
“Well, if you insist, then fine. You’ll never be forgiven. I just don’t think that’s right.” U-ri shook her head. “So what happened then? What happened after your heart jumped?”
“I waited.”
“Waited for what?”
For the first time, the young devout smiled. It was such a faint smile that, for moment, Yuriko didn’t trust her eyes.
“For you.”
Had a boy said the same to her a week ago, she would have blushed bright red, but with her new name, wrapped in the vestments of a nameless place, it seemed entirely appropriate. She understood how he had waited, full of hope and fear.
U-ri lifted an eyebrow at the young devout. “You were the one who put the blankets on me when I was sleeping in the Hall of All Books, weren’t you. You lit the lamp in my room.”
The young devout blanched.
Gotcha! “So you were watching me!” He’d been waiting for the allcaste to arrive, and when she did, he had watched her. Not like a policeman tailing someone, or a stalker—he just hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. “So you were there the whole time—until the Archdevout called you out of the shadows in the dome.”
The young devout nodded slightly. “My brothers realized this, and thus knew that I had been defiled.”
So things like curiosity and wanting change are considered defilements in the nameless land?
“It happens only rarely,” said a voice. It was the Sage. He spoke only with great difficulty, forcing the words out. “You might call it an accident.” The tinge of fear in his voice grew stronger.
“An accident?” U-ri echoed. That reminds me. “When the Archdevout first pulled the Hollow Book from its container, he was surprised at how damaged it was. You say the nameless devout aren’t human and don’t have hearts, but I don’t think that’s true. They can be surprised, and frightened, and even a little angry. Just like you can.”
The Sage was quiet. His green light winked slowly, at great intervals, as though he were taking deep breaths.
“If the Archdevout was so surprised at seeing the book damaged, it must not happen very often—could that be connected to what happened with my servant? If both are such rare things, I’ll bet it’s not a coincidence.”
“Is that what the Archdevout told you?” the Sage asked quietly. “He said that the book had been damaged? Is that how he explained his dismay when he retrieved the Hollow Book from the casket in the nameless land, Lady U-ri?”
“Well, yes.”
The Sage fell silent once again. His green glow began to flicker more rapidly, like a sprinter’s heartbeat, then slowed again to the pace of a meditating monk.
“I find it hard to believe that the book was damaged,” the Sage said at last. “But if the Archdevout said it, it must be so.”
He’
s choosing his words pretty carefully.
“And I think that the Hero’s violent escape from its prison is somehow connected to the birth of your servant, as you say, Lady U-ri.”
Okay—kind of a roundabout way of agreeing with me, but okay.
“Have you never met an allcaste with a servant?”
“This is my first. Though I did know of the possibility.”
“So it’s not the first time ever?”
“It is not.”
“And…it’s not a good thing?”
There was a pause.
“It is not.”
“Which is why you scolded me when I showed up with him.”
“I was not scolding you,” the Sage hastily clarified. “If my words sounded harsh, then I must apologize.”
U-ri smiled. “It’s okay. I was just surprised; I’m not upset. And, the book being damaged sounds pretty bad, but I don’t see what’s wrong about me having help. And think of him.” She looked at the young devout. “If I hadn’t taken him out of that dismal place, he would have been stuck there forever. That has to be a good thing.”
U-ri turned to face the young devout. “The Hollow Book chose you to help me. What could be bad about that?” U-ri was practically shouting, happy with her own idea. “I’ll bet the book figured the allcaste would need some help after it saw how violently the Hero broke free of its prison. That’s why it chose you!” And if he helps me fight the Hero and rescue my brother, so much the better. “Think about it! You’ll be freed! I’m sure of it!” The book was giving him a second chance. U-ri felt a warm strength swell inside her. She stepped closer to the young devout and took his hand in hers. “So stand straight, and keep your chin up! You’re here to help me, after all. And you’re here to help yourself.”
“O-okay.”
“Um, excuse me?” It was Aju. “I hate to interrupt this heartwarming scene you’ve got going here, but I’d like you to try something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Take off your robes.”
U-ri shrugged and took them off. She staggered. The strength went out of her knees. Her whole body felt heavy, and the room began to spin around her. She felt like the stacks of books were going to collapse in on her in an avalanche of paper and leather bindings. She fell to the ground, unable to stand, her elbows hitting the floor. She lacked even the strength to yelp.
The Book of Heroes Page 17