Authors: Miyuki Miyabe
“To tell the truth, my first name’s Tat, but my last name’s Pamskarovmaeltostralasky… Everyone just calls me Pam.”
There were four Highlanders working for the local branch, all of them ankha. According to Pam, more than eighty percent of Lyris was ankha, with only a smattering of the other races living in town.
“It’s the ankha who work at crafts. Our fingers and hands are built for that work, you see. And little kitkin ladies and big old waterkin can’t stand the heat by the furnaces for long.”
Chief Pam was easygoing and a big talker, and he asked them for any news they might’ve heard on the road. It was his first time hearing of the wildfire in Maquiba and the overturned darbaba cart accident, and he listened with eyes wide in surprise. Wataru was amazed by how laid-back he seemed.
Like night and day from Kutz.
“Lyris is a peaceful place, as you can see. The only incidents we have are little things: a child who got lost while picking berries, an explosion at a workshop near the town offices.”
An explosion seemed like a big thing to Wataru.
“Just a mishap while making fireworks. There were no injuries, and since it happened at night, it was rather a nice show.”
There were a number of empty rooms at the branch offices, so they were told to stay there in lieu of lodgings. While they stayed, they could help with town patrols, and there was a regular watch. While they listened to Pam’s explanation, a pretty girl with long black hair brought tea to them.
“Ah, my daughter, Elza. She helps with the busy work around the branch.”
“Hello,” the girl said with a smile that made dimples in her cheeks. “You’ve had quite the journey!” Wataru guessed she must be about fifteen or sixteen years old. In real-world terms, she would be a high school student. The color of her skin made Wataru think of the white bowls he often saw at expensive Chinese restaurants—as delicate as flower petals. She was almost too pretty to be believed.
Suddenly, Wataru found himself thinking of Kaori Daimatsu. Their faces were completely different. But the graceful air to them, like a fairy’s, was quite similar. Theirs was an unearthly beauty.
I wonder how Kaori is doing?
A sharp elbow jab in the ribs snapped Wataru out of his reverie. Meena coughed. “Shouldn’t you ask him about Mitsuru?”
Oh, right.
Through sheer force of will, Wataru tore his gaze away from the girl’s face.
“A sorcerer about your age? Hmm…” Pam scratched his round, bald head. “This isn’t like Gasara, where we check everyone at the town gate. It’s hard to say who’s visiting the town at any given time. You might ask around at the lodges.”
Too bad. He hadn’t expected finding Mitsuru to be that easy, but still, it was a disappointment.
“Of course, a boy sorcerer would stand out, and if he’s still staying in Lyris, it shouldn’t take long to track him down—not for us Highlanders.” The chief suggested that they take a walk around and familiarize themselves with the town. There was still time before the scheduled patrols began.
Kee Keema leaned forward. “Actually, I was hoping we could visit Toni Fanlon’s workshop. Could you tell me where it is?”
The chief’s eyes suddenly became sinister-looking slits. “Eh? Fanlon?”
Elza, carrying tea to some of the other Highlanders, let a cup slip from her fingers. It fell on the floor and smashed. “I’m sorry,” she said, hurriedly picking up the pieces. The chief shot a quick glance at her. When he turned back to Kee Keema, the same pleasant smile from before had returned to his face. “If you’re looking for his workshop, it’s off to the north end of the marketplace. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”
Roughly speaking, the town of Lyris was shaped like an apple. The core was home to the branch and town offices, hospital, school, and the mayor’s private residence. Four large roads ran from the core out to the edges of town, one in each of the cardinal directions. Each of these roads had a name, and the marketplace took up much of Bricklayer Street that led to the north, running along it in a narrow succession of shops and stalls. At the very end of the north road, right where the stem of the apple would be, stood the cathedral with a large bell tower.
The tower stood high over the cathedral, casting a shadow across the rooftops in the afternoon sun. Completely captured in that shadow, on a small street corner, they found the Fanlon workshop. Here there were several houses crammed tightly together. Each seemed to be leaning in its own direction without any regard for its neighbors. There was no sign of any sort, nor any wares on display. It was a two-story house of old brick that had dried and cracked in the sun over the years. Wind and rain had leached the color from its walls, and the door was a simple, single panel of worn wood.
The people on the street were very kind, and everyone was happy to show them the way to the workshop. Someone even offered to take them there—it was easy to get lost in the marketplace crowds. When they finally came to the house they couldn’t believe their eyes. How could the most famed jeweler of Lyris, known even in the lands of the Empire to the north, live in such a humble house?
“Well, nothing left to do but knock, I suppose,” Kee Keema said, making a fist with his massive hand and stepping toward the front entryway. Just then, the door swung out and smacked him directly on the nose.
“Ouch!”
Bouncing off Kee Keema’s leathery snout, the door slammed shut into whoever had opened it.
“Ack!” came a yelp from inside.
“Ah, many apologies,” Kee Keema said, bowing. A young man stepped out from behind the door, holding his bruised nose with one hand.
“Hmm? Who might you be?” the youth asked, favoring them with a suspicious glare. He was an ankha, and very tall for his age. He wore a black shirt, black trousers, and a white workman’s apron that reached down to his knees. His glossy black hair was tied in a knot behind his head, and this made him look like a rock star—or maybe somebody from a kung fu movie.
“Toni Fanlon?” Meena asked cheerfully. “We came here from Gasara hoping we could take a look at some of your crafts.”
“Customers, are you?” the young man said, rubbing his nose and sounding relieved. “Then come on in. I’m not making anything very special at the moment, but you’re welcome to have a look.”
He opened the door for Wataru and the others, and then took a step back. “But I must head out on an errand shortly. I’m afraid I can’t welcome you for long…”
The young man’s eyes narrowed. He was staring at Wataru. Rather, he was staring at the firewyrm armband Wataru wore on his left wrist. “You’re Highlanders?”
His voice sounded entirely different from a moment before. “You are, aren’t you? That’s the mark of a Highlander, isn’t it?”
Wataru became suddenly nervous. “Yes. Yes it is.”
Toni shook his head, his ponytail waving back and forth, and stood in Kee Keema’s path just as he was about to step inside.
“Then I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave,” he said quickly, his face going pale. His face was ashen and seething with anger.
“But, but why?”
“We came all this way…” Meena cut in. “Is there something wrong with Highlanders? Don’t you like them?”
Lightning flashed across Toni Fanlon’s eyes like two black jewels. “Hah. I take it you’ve not met Chief Pam yet?”
“We met him, sure,” Kee Keema answered. “We asked him where we could find your workshop.”
“And he told you?” the man asked, his every word clipped. “You lie!”
“It’s not a lie. I mean, he only said you were off to the side of the market, he didn’t tell us the exact location. We had to ask a few people on the way.”
“It’s true. We want to see your work. I didn’t think we’d be able to buy anything, of course, they must be very expensive…”
Toni bit his lip and shook his head. “I wouldn’t sell one of my works to a Highlander, or any friend of a Highlander, no matter what the price. No selling, no showing. Now leave.”
The door shut with a slam.
The three stood with their mouths open, uncertain how to process this rapid turn of events. Faces peeked out of nearby windows and doors, then quickly withdrew. This must be a common sight, Wataru thought. He heard stifled laughter from somewhere above his head. It seemed like even the cries and pithy market noises drifting from Bricklayer Street mocked them.
Kee Keema closed his mouth with a snap. “Step aside, please,” he said to Wataru and Meena. They each took a step back.
“Many thanks,” Kee Keema said with a toothy grin. Then he clenched both hands into fists and stepped back across the narrow road saying “One step, two steps, three steps,” in a loud voice as he paced backward.
“What are you doing?” Meena asked frantically. The waterkin charged toward the door, answering as he flew past, “I could break through five of these doors!”
“Wait! No!”
“Kee Keema!”
Wataru and Meena tried to tackle him. He growled like a hunting dog and shook them off in two steps. “What?”
“No violence!”
“You saw how rude he was? What’s with that attitude? And he calls himself a merchant. Bah! When you meet someone like that, you give them a good whack on the chin, that’s what you do. The Goddess herself don’t stand for that kind of attitude.”
“Please, wait!” came a girl’s voice from down the street. They turned to see Elza picking up her skirts as she ran toward them, her long hair flowing behind her.
Breathing heavily, her hand on her chest, she said, “Y-you…Toni, he…”
“He turned us away at the door,” Kee Keema said, gnashing his sharp teeth. Wataru knew the waterkin was a gentle soul and would never do a girl like Elza any harm, but seeing him there baring his teeth would have given anyone a fright. Elza caught her breath and pleaded with them. She looked on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I should’ve come with you…”
And then she collapsed.
“I must have given you quite a scare.”
Elza was sitting on a hard cot in the corner of Fanlon’s workshop. She had regained consciousness, but her face was whiter than the sheets on the bed.
Wataru’s earlier shout of surprise had brought Toni running out into the street. With no hesitation he picked her up off the ground and carried her inside. Wataru and his friends took advantage of the situation and shuffled into the workshop. Until she opened her eyes, Toni hovered protectively by Elza’s side, and wouldn’t let anyone approach the bed.
“I bet they’re lovers,” Meena whispered to Wataru. “And Elza’s the branch chief’s only daughter—that’s drama just waiting to happen.”
Elza sat up, and when she saw Wataru and the others, she immediately began introducing them to Toni.
He shook his head. “Who cares about them? How do you feel? Are you all right?” Toni asked worriedly, trying to keep her from sitting up. “Your heart is weak. How many times have I told you—you shouldn’t be running.”
Elza smiled weakly. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I guess I’m still just a child at heart.”
“You came chasing after us. Thank you. Are you okay?” Wataru asked from behind Toni. The craftsman whirled sharply around.
“It’s your fault,” he said coldly.
“Please, Toni. Don’t be that way to them,” Elza said, taking his hands into her own. “They’ve come from Gasara searching for one of their friends. Yes, they’re Highlanders, but they just arrived here and only spoke to my father briefly.”
Toni Fanlon rubbed his forehead. His mouth was still curved into a jagged frown. “All Highlanders are the same.”
“That’s not true. I’ve not been to Gasara, but I hear it is quite lively. There’re all sorts of people there, all races and classes, living together, no?” Elza looked each of the three in the face as she asked them. They all nodded in agreement. She then grabbed Toni’s hands and looked into his eyes. “Please…things are different in other towns. Don’t judge them based on the Highlanders here.”
“Erm…” Kee Keema began hesitantly, scratching at his cheek with a long hooked claw. “Sorry to interrupt, but could somebody explain what’s going on here?”
“Yes, of course,” Elza said, catching her breath and blushing. Then, leaning on Toni’s arm for support, she sat up.
“I’m guessing there’s a difference of opinion between your father—the branch chief—and Mr. Fanlon, here?”
“Opinion!” Toni said, his anger rising again. “That racist has no right to an opinion.”
“Can you please not get angry like that, just once?” Elza said with a laugh. Wataru and Meena smiled too. Toni’s scowl only darkened.
“He’s my father, so perhaps it’s not my place to say this…” Elza began, looking down at the floor. “But my father, he thinks that ankha are superior to the other races.”
“But isn’t Pam the branch chief? How can he do a fair job of keeping the peace if he’s prejudiced?”
“Who says it’s fair?” Toni said bitterly. “The non-ankha in town can’t go to the Highlanders for protection. No matter what happens—theft, burglary, arson—if the victim isn’t an ankha, the Lyris branch won’t budge. More than that, if the criminal in question happens to be an ankha, they erase all record of the incident off the books, and let them go free.”
“That’s terrible!” Kee Keema exclaimed.