Authors: Miyuki Miyabe
Just as they were preparing to pack up and leave town for good, one of the guests staying at the only lodge in Maquiba announced he was a sorcerer of some skill, and were they to ask him, he could stop the blaze.
“He only warned that, if we did it his way, though the fires be quenched, not even grass’d grow on those mountains for many years.”
The postmaster rubbed his nose. Wataru caught a glimpse of a bandage poking out from under his shirt. He noticed burn marks on the man’s arm.
“If we left the blaze as it was, the winds would carry it through all the southwest pastures, ruining them all. That alone would take years to recover from. We figured the sorcerer’s way didn’t sound all that bad, you see?”
The postmaster looked at their faces and grinned. “Of course, nobody in town could make up their mind. Reason being, this sorcerer was a boy.”
The darbaba postmaster pointed a stubby finger at Wataru. “In fact, he was about your age. An ankha boy. We were all surprised he hadn’t been moved out of town with the other children and the elderly.”
Wataru’s eyes opened wide. He took a step forward. “This sorcerer, was he wearing a black robe? Did he have a leather band around his waist, and a staff with a glimmering stone on the end?”
The postmaster seemed surprised. “How did you know that? You know this boy sorcerer?”
Kee Keema grabbed Wataru’s shoulder from behind and broke in. “What happened in the end? You take this sorcerer up on his offer?”
“Huh? Erm, yes, we did.” The darbaba postmaster nodded. “It was so hot even here in town by that point that our hair and clothes were threatening to catch fire. Not that anyone went up to him and specifically asked, you see. While we were all muddling about, trying to make up our minds, that boy sorcerer took control.”
Wataru smiled. It had to be Mitsuru. It sounded exactly like the sort of thing he would say.
“What happened then?” Meena asked, leaning forward.
“What happened? We saw sorcery.” The postmaster wiped the sweat off his nose. “And what sorcery it was. Makes me dizzy just t’think about it. He held his staff in his right hand, and with his left, he drew letters in the air, like this. Then he started shouting, or more like singing, words none of us could understand.”
Then the miracles started. The first to appear was a great cyclone. It formed suddenly in the air over the burning mountains to the southwest, and soon wrapped itself around the entire blaze.
“That cyclone covered the blazing hills peak to foot. Suddenly, the air around us got cool—cold, even. It wasn’t hot anymore at all. The wind stopped too.”
The sorcerer waved his staff, and the stone at its tip shone a bright blue. The villagers shielded their eyes from the sudden glare, when a great blue dragon appeared out of nowhere.
“I saw the whole thing. That was a seawyrm, it was, straight out of legend. No mistaking it,” the darbaba postmaster declared. “From the way it kind of erupted in the air above ’im, I think its power had been trapped in the stone at the tip of the sorcerer’s staff.”
The blue dragon twisted and writhed, spinning its body around the great cyclone enveloping the blaze. Then the cyclone began to fill with the purest water. Its twisting winds became a spray, the spray became rain, and the entire town of Maquiba and surrounding hills were drenched.
“Then the cyclone began to move.”
It left the hills, spun into the air, and went off toward the sea. Only the great ocean could stop such a blaze, and the cyclone was taking the blaze right to it.
“We all stood there staring, like idiots. By the time we realized our lives had been saved, night was breaking. The boy sorcerer was gone. Only those bald hills remained as proof of what had happened.”
The townspeople were so excited, said the postmaster. The fire and the sorcerer’s trick was all anyone could talk about.
They didn’t even have to ask, as they soon discovered. Everyone in Maquiba was eager to tell visitors about what happened, going so far as to stop them in the street to ask if they had heard the news. By the time they reached the lodge, the three travelers knew the story down to the last detail.
Wataru excitedly told the villagers that the sorcerer was his friend—from the other world. But each time he did so, Kee Keema shot him a withering glare. When they reached the lodge he told him, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to tell people you’re a Traveler. There was no helping it in Gasara once the word got out, but here and on the road we’d best avoid any unwanted attention, if you know what I mean.”
Wataru agreed to restrain himself. Then he remembered something that Wayfinder Lau had said.
“That’s odd. The Wayfinder told me once that the Vision I travel through and Mitsuru’s Vision weren’t even the same world. That it changed for each person who traveled through it. That’s why we couldn’t help each other.”
Meena cocked her head to one side. “Maybe it’s different for you and your friend—Mitsuru, was it?—because you’re so small. Maybe you’re allowed to work together?”
“I don’t know. I think if that were the case, Wayfinder Lau would have told me that from the start.”
“Well, maybe he wanted you to figure it out on your own.”
Something about Meena’s suggestion tugged at Wataru. “If I was with Mitsuru, I bet it would be easy to reach the Tower of Destiny. He’s quite the sorcerer, you know.”
Meena smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself, Wataru. You didn’t need magic to catch the two boys that had trapped me.”
At the lodge, too, the story of the wildfire and the boy sorcerer was hotter than the fires themselves had been. The townspeople came to the lodge for no other reason than to spread the tale to travelers. From the mingled conversations, Wataru heard something of great interest. Before the fires had even broken out, the boy sorcerer had been asking about the road to a town called Lyris northwest of Bog.
“Is it far to Lyris?”
“It would be, if you aimed to go straight there. There’s a great river in the way, the Grandera, so swift-flowing they can’t even build bridges over it, and boats can make the crossing only at times when the current’s slow. If you’re not lucky, you might have to wait weeks or months to cross. The most reliable way to get there is to climb the mountains to the south, and go around to the southwest. There is a road that heads that way too.”
If they went into the mountains to the south, they would pass through the place where the Spectacle Machine troupe was said to be performing on the way. Perfect. Wataru knew what the Wayfinder had told him, but he still wanted to follow Mitsuru.
Kee Keema smiled. “Then let’s do it. We know where he’s gone, and I’m of a mind to meet this Traveler friend of yours and see what stuff he’s made of.”
Chapter 14
The Spectacle Machine
The sound of cheery music drifted through the green woods.
Even the trees swaying in the breeze seemed to move to the echoes of the rhythmical drums.
Friends o’ the whirlwind we are, we are.
A dance with the whirlwind we dance.
One of a kind, under the skies.
One of a kind we are.
Aeroga Spectacle Machine!
Come, let us open your eyes!
Aeroga Spectacle Machine!
Turns geezers and grannies to young gals n’ guys!
Aeroga Spectacle Machine!
Hearts o’ the young we’re winning.
Aeroga Spectacle Machine!
The show is just beginning!
Meena’s face broke into a smile. “It’s the chorus,” she said excitedly.
The woods were deep and the trees so tall one had to look up to see the tops. Wataru and Kee Keema followed after the ebullient Meena, when suddenly they came into a clearing. Wataru shouted in surprise at what he saw.
A giant floating stage rested upon a lake that mirrored the blue sky. Brightly painted banners and furls of fabric had been attached to the framework of the stage. On closer inspection, Wataru saw that the pieces of fabric were actually boys, girls, men and women in bright, flowing clothes. They clung to high rafters and stood atop poles. Some hung by their legs from ropes as they moved quickly and deftly, constructing the stage before Wataru’s eyes. As they worked, they sung in a beautiful harmony. Wataru couldn’t imagine the actual performance being any more fascinating than this already was.
“Look, Wataru. That’s the swing I used to use!”
A swing in the shape of a crescent moon made of thin wires hung from the highest part of the stage.
“What a view!” Kee Keema said in a bellowing voice that seemed to ride on the wind across the lake surface. A boy dressed completely in red looked in their direction and called out.
“Hey, it’s Meena!”
Meena waved. “Puck!”
“Everyone! It’s Meena! She’s come home!”
The boy in red clambered nimbly down the scaffolding. The other people stopped working, and all looked in Meena and Wataru’s direction. The song halted, and in its place came shouts of
Meena!
and
Welcome home!
and
Where did you go!
?
We were so worried!
Meena ran toward the edge of the lake, and Wataru and Kee Keema followed her into a reception warmer than any they could have imagined.
“I’m so sorry I left without saying anything, I really am.” Meena hung her head, and her eyes were filled with tears.
A large hand, spread like a fan, patted her on the head. “I read the note saying you were gone, but no one could figure out why you left. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Bubuho, troupe leader of the Spectacle Machine, was a large man, larger even than Kee Keema. His eyes reminded Wataru of a pig from his world, but he had a dignified look to him and a broad smile that eased all fears. In realworld years, he looked to be about fifty. He wasn’t fat, merely massive and muscular. There didn’t seem to be a wasted inch of flesh on his body.
Meena and the boy Puck sat next to him on small stools. The boy seemed younger even than Wataru, probably about the same age as a first-grader in his world. His hair was so red it looked like it was on fire, and his face was covered with freckles. Wataru thought he was an ankha at first, but on closer inspection he found the boy had a long gray tail. He looked between Meena and the troupe leader with sparkling eyes, his tail twitching all the while.
“I learned all sorts of new tricks while you were gone, Meena. I was good and practiced all the time,” he declared proudly, when he saw that Meena and the troupe leader were done catching up. “I can even do the triple flip! Well, I only did it once, but it was perfect. Bubuho says I’m still too young for it, though,” Puck said, pouting.
Meena tousled his hair. “Your singing’s really gotten good,” she said, smiling. “I could pick out your voice from far away. You’re not only an acrobat, you’ve the makings of a fine singer too!”
“You think?” Puck said, jumping to his feet. “Maybe I can sing on stage!”
The circus had set up its tents along the edge of the lake. They went first to Bubuho’s tent, where they sat in a circle, while Puck danced back and forth between them. He stopped only when Bubuho sternly told him to get back to work. Reluctantly, the boy left the tent.
“Finally, a little peace and quiet,” the troupe leader said, turning to Wataru and Kee Keema. “It sounds like Meena, and all of us, owe you a great debt. Thank you, kind sirs.”
Wataru shook his head and said it was he who had been saved, and proceeded to tell the story of all that had happened. When he was finished, Bubuho once again gave Meena a pat on the head. “I see, I see, you’ve been through quite a lot. I had no idea you were so determined to get to the bottom of what happened to your parents.”
“It’s not that…it’s just, I didn’t know enough not to trust what the boys told me,” Meena explained.
“And so, you will join this Traveler in his journey?”
Meena shifted in her seat. “Yes.”
Bubuho squinted his tiny eyes and looked at Wataru. “Traveler, you give your permission for Meena to join you?”
“Of course,” Wataru said, nodding firmly.
“Then I’ve no problem with it,” said Bubuho smiling. “But, since you’ve come to us, I demand you spend the night and watch a rehearsal of our show. Opening day is tomorrow, so tonight’s rehearsal will be a preview of the real thing. You’ll be our audience.”
“That’s great! Let’s stay, please, Wataru? Kee Keema?” Meena said, jumping about so energetically as to give Puck a run for his money. “Say I can help you on stage, Bubuho, please?”
“We saw your rope tricks back in the cavern,” Wataru said laughing. “But, if you’ve time to practice, I’d love to see you do your thing on stage.”
“Me too,” Kee Keema added enthusiastically.
“Then you’ll want to talk to the other swing artists.”
Bubuho sent Meena out and showed Wataru and Kee Keema to an empty tent. They settled in, and after a time, an old woman came in, bringing them a fragrant tea.