King of Dreams
a Munto fanfiction by Tripleguess
Genre: Fantasy/Drama
Rated PG+
March 9, 2009
Summary: She made a promise. She has to keep it.
Author’s Note: OVAverse only. Borrows elements from the TV series, but otherwise ignores it. Certified moe-free.
Jump To...
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
“We’re pinned down!” Shuza yelled, slicing at the air in front of him. The morph soldier backing him into the pillars came apart at the seams, but three more pressed in to take its place. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up!”
Rui let fly another hail of Akuto bolts and mopped his brow hastily, not daring to take his eyes off the enemy between barrages. If Shuza was tired, he was running on empty.
The situation was not good. Gus, drained from attacking Gunther’s fleet and from the loss of his arm, could no longer hold his own against Guridori. Morph soldiers were flooding the borders of the Kingdom, and the weary soldiers were hard pressed to slow their progress. Even Leica’s fresher forces, fighting under her fierce direction, were losing ground.
“We have to hold out as long as we can -“
“I know that!”
Then it happened. An eruption of light that blinded the sun - light one could feel, pulsating and warm, beating against the skin like birdwings.
And for reasons no one could explain, the enemy fell back.
He was on his knees, Rui realized, blown there by the force of an explosion that must have come from far, far below. Shuza had lost his footing too. And raining upwards in luminous streamers…
“Akuto,” Rui breathed. Raw, unadulterated Akuto, more than he’d ever dreamed existed, was stabbing through the clouds in solid rays. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen, except for -
“It’s so much stronger this time,” Shuza observed, following the same train of thought. He reached out a tentative hand, stirring the air with his fingers; it shimmered like a living thing, as though full of gold dust.
“No kidding.” Rui brought up a hand and flexed experimentally. The morph soldiers in front of them imploded, crumpling like tin foil in a blast furnace.
They grinned at each other, their strength flooding back, fed by the hope that suddenly flamed inside of them. Unspeakable, incredible hope that -
“Oh yeah. Much stronger.”
X X X
They’d been losing when he left. Fighting valiantly, contesting every inch, but losing nonetheless.
But now, as he hurtled through the last of the clouds and the final webs of cirrus sank from view, he could see that it was the enemy who was on the run.
They all depended on Akuto - every skydweller drew sustenance from it, looked to it for heat and energy and power. But only those of the Magical Kingdom could use it directly, drawing it straight from the air and rechanneling it as they chose. If what they chose was battle, it made a frightening weapon indeed.
And now, looking at his warriors as they pursued a beaten foe, he understood why the other lands had been so anxious to bring his land down when they’d had the chance.
Not that he agreed. Oh no, not in the least. And now, with the counter to it all in his arms, he was going to make sure they never attacked his people again.
He hadn’t wanted her to come. There were so many fears swirling around that outline, fears that went to a depth he’d never thought he’d feel again. They stabbed at him again even now; she’d pierced time without effort, and his newly gained Outsider powers had allowed him to meet her halfway. But she’d lost consciousness on the way up, and he could feel her heart rate dropping.
“STOP THE FIGHTING!” he roared.
The sparks of Akuto attacks suddenly faded. The morph bots not yet fleeing began to; those already withdrawing redoubled their pace. A surge of movement to one side caught his eye; Guridori, evidently in the midst of teaching Gus a lesson.
Munto caught his breath and veered in that direction. Wisps of cloud flew past him, and her hair stung his face. “Let him go.”
Guridori sneered. Behind his cracked mask, one eye glowed malevolently. Strange thread-like feelers ran from a nearby morph soldier through the Outsider’s body. Gus was unconscious, or dead… but Munto doubted that Guridori would pay that much attention to a nerveless corpse.
The Elders might sanction crimes in the name of the good of the many, but the king of Holgooze enjoyed inflicting pain for its own sake.
“Make me, boy.”
That was all the invitation Munto needed.
“I said --” and each word was deliberate, as though talking to a rather dull child - “Let. Him. Go.”
He gestured as he spoke. Guridori flinched as the air crackled, red threading gold in agitated bands. Munto flinched, himself, as a surge of Akuto poured into his attack, eagerly following his lead.
Even in her sleep, she was helping him.
Energy forked into the wirelike threads holding Gus, and Guridori howled as they vaporized, curling in on himself with pain. Controlling his automatons so directly had its drawbacks.
Gus plummeted, helpless to stop himself. But that was all right, because Leica did it for him, catching him on the deck of her hoversail. Irita rushed to the Outsider and began yanking out the singed ends of the feelers with her quick, sensitive hands, while battle-wise Leica put the ship out of range before Guridori could react. Munto attacked again, this time targeting Guridori. Furs sparked and smoked.
“I’ll remember this!” Guridori hissed, and caught hold of a passing morph soldier. Within moments he was out of sight, trailing ash all the way. Munto watched long enough to make sure Guridori wasn’t doubling back. Then he filled his lungs and headed for the island he called home.
“Shuza!” he bellowed. “Shuza! Come here this instant!”
X X X
They met him at the steps of the palace, their faces jubilant. One look at his expression, though, and the circle of welcomers backed away to give him room.
“Shuza! Shuza!”
Shuza pushed to the front of the crowd as Munto dropped to the ground and then to his knees, his burden spilling across his lap.
“Is she all right?”
Shuza crouched and touched her neck, then her wrist. “So small,” he marveled. He held a lock of her hair near her mouth; it fluttered. Munto bit his lip with impatience, but it wouldn’t do to hurry a doctor.
“She’s fine,” Shuza assured him, checking the skin on the inside of one wrist with his large, gentle hands. “Just asleep. I think she’s a bit dehydrated, and her heartbeat is rapid, but that’s probably normal given her size…”
Rapid? This was nothing; she’d been thrumming like a hummingbird when he caught her. He tuned back in in time to catch the tail end of Shuza’s assessment.
“ ...let’s let her rest and keep her warm. When she wakes, make sure she has plenty to drink.”
Drink. Of course. Akuto could stand in for food, for them, but Yumemi had depended on food and water all her life. “Asleep? That’s it?”
Shuza nodded.
Munto bowed his head. “Thank God.”
After the circle broke up, jubilance seemed to spread across the island like a flood. The king was back; he came bearing gifts from the world of death, and they looked like the spoils of war. Akuto filled the winds like the scent of hope, the enemy had retreated, and they were alive.
Nobody ordered a festival, but one broke out anyway. They sang and danced and talked far into the night, regaling each other with battle stories that grew with each telling and would no doubt pass into legend. Children barely old enough to wield Akuto picked up fragments of morph soldiers and defeated them anew, while teens chased each other through the streets in swift games of aerial tag. And many brought out food and wine and shared it, just for the fun of enjoying it together.
And when the moon tired of watching the reveling and gone to bed, and the sun was tapping the horizon with the tip of one luminous finger, his dream awoke.
X X X
“And the rest of Guridori’s army?”
Rui shook his head. “There weren’t many of them left. They’re scattered, fleeing. Scouts report that fighting in the rest of the sky is dying down too. Holgooze’s invasion of Enda has been repelled, and most of the other countries are calling for cease-fires.”
Well, that was good. Munto rested a hand in his chin and stared at the disarray on his table. The war chambers had never been cleaned properly since Guridori’s invasion, and they were getting a bit rank.
He didn’t care. The scent of tired, sweaty warriors was something he’d respected since birth, and they could crowd in here all they liked, as they had the night between the attacks. He found comfort in their presence; so many people, supporting him with everything they had, down to their very lives.
Munto waited as long as possible before asking the inevitable. “And the Elders?”
Rui tapped the topmost map contemplatively. “Nothing. No messengers, no signal flares - nothing. Though I’d guess they’re in heated discussion among themselves.”
The king exhaled. “Let them squirm as long as they can stand it. Sooner or later, they’ll contact us.”
Rui laughed. “They won’t be able to resist.” At Munto’s questioning look, he spread his hands. “Oh, you and I know that she is the answer. But to a circle of power-hungry Heads, she looks an awful lot like a weakness.”
Munto cocked a brow at him. Rui held up his hands, still chuckling, and gathered up the rolls of reports. “It’s been a long night. Join me for breakfast?”
“You know I don’t -“
“I know, I know.” Rui shuffled the rolls, dropped one, and bent to retrieve it. “I just think it’s high time you stopped punishing yourself, so I keep asking.”
Sometimes it was annoying to have subordinates who trusted you. They spoke their minds and said what they pleased and ignored the glares and threats. Rui saluted with a cheeriness Munto found insulting and left the room, almost skipping.
Munto pushed his chair back with a screech and went round the windows, opening all the curtains to let the air through. He didn’t mind sweat, but Rui was right; it was time to start cleaning up. The invasion had been routed, the hostile forces all but annihilated. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be bothered for quite some time.
His people felt the same way. He paused in tying back a curtain, taking in the activity spread out below. Men and women were clambering over damaged buildings, wielding hammers and chisels. Runners brought barrows of freshly cut stone and marble. Other groups were cutting into the enemy vessels that had crashed during the battle, slicing them into manageable pieces and piling them out of the way. They would be welcome material at the forges later.
He opened the last window. The wind accepted his invitation and swirled in, scattering papers and lifting a map or two into the air. He groaned and got down on the floor to rescue the most important ones. Cleaning up was always more work that it looked to be at first sight. But then, life was like that… it was hard to foresee all the consequences of what you did today. Of course, any idiot knew that fresh air and organized documents didn’t mix.
He chased a particularly flighty roll under the table and paused in mid-reach. Someone was…
He looked up, straight into her eyes.
She was standing half in the doorway, looking lost and a little waif-like. Her hair drifted this way and that in the breeze, shining like Akuto dust; she must have brushed it out with the combs the maids had provided, since she hadn’t brought a thing but the clothes on her back. And she’d found the shift they’d left for her. He could smell lilies from here, and her skin looked fresh and well scrubbed, so she’d made use of the bath too.
“Munto.”
He stood up and whacked his head.
She jumped. He rubbed the point of contact and extricated himself from under the table, along with that cursed roll and what was left of his dignity.
“G-good morning. Are you hungry?”
“Ah…” She rubbed her own head, then smiled self-consciously. “Yes, yes I am.”
“Oh.” He rolled the document neatly and snapped the band in place. “Follow me.”
He ushered her into the hall, appreciating anew the difference in height. She had to tilt her head to look at him, but at least she wasn’t flinching as though he might eat her.
The dining hall would be full at this hour, bustling with people either taking breakfast or keeping company with others who were. He didn’t think she was quite ready for that, so he led her down a side hall.
It widened into a pleasant sunroom, half open to the sky on one end and bursting with flowering vines on the other.
Rui glanced up as they walked in, then dropped his chai. Munto savored the look on his second’s face. Payback time.
“Munto! Is that -“
Of course, those ears were a dead giveaway. Rui was on his feet before he’d finished the sentence, bowing deeply.
“I’m honored to meet you, ah…”
“Yumemi,” Munto supplied. “Yumemi, this is Rui, my general.” That sounded a lot more formal than the fact; the kingdom was too small to make much of a fuss over titles. Everyone knew who Rui was. “Rui; Yumemi.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Yumemi stammered, dipping and coloring.
Another door swung inward, accompanied by the clattering of a wheeled cart. “Master Rui, they didn’t have any falafel, so I brought tiropita and a fruit dish instead.”
“That’s fine, I’m glad they had something.” Rui smiled reassuringly at Yumemi and accepted several dishes from the maid, who stole a quick, surprised glance before wheeling her cart away. Munto pulled out a chair for Yumemi; she sat down after checking his expression.
“It’s all right, Miss. Pick something.” Rui spread the plates out for Yumemi’s inspection, and she hesitantly took the nearest along with the silverware he nudged in her direction.
“So you joined me after all.” Rui looked pleased.
Yumemi had the lid off her food and was looking at it favorably. Now she paused. “Munto, you’re not eating?”
“I don’t need to.”
“Eh?” She looked bewildered.
“Akuto can sustain us in place of food,” Rui supplied helpfully. “So technically, it isn’t necessary for us to eat.”
“But you’re eating, Master Rui.”
“Food reduces the need for Akuto. Plus I like the taste.” Rui waved his fork. “Actually, most of us do. It’s still an important social activity, or we wouldn’t have kitchens and chefs.”
“Oh.” Yumemi studied her tiropita, not sure what to make of this discovery. “I can’t go long without food.”
Munto, remembering Shuza’s injunction, snagged a pitcher and slid her a tall glass of beverage.
“Then, Munto,” she ventured, “you don’t, because…”
He looked away. A useless gesture; she knew far too much already. “I don’t have time.”
“But you’re sitting down at a table. For once. You might as well be eating,” Rui observed. “Besides, Shuza doesn’t think it’s good to rely entirely on Akuto for nourishment. It can be taken too far.”
“I’m not going to become an Akuto ghost.”
Yumemi looked from one to the other, alarmed. “Ghost?”
“That’s how it started, though,” Rui countered. “You know as well as I do - and people don’t last long once they get to that stage. Not as people, anyways. The mind can only take so much. As the Ancients discovered.”
“The Ancients took it to an extreme.”
“Extreme is your middle name, my good king.”
There was a long silence, during which Rui swirled his drink and sighed. The words sounded like an argument, but it didn’t feel like one. More like a ritual. Yumemi had the feeling that they’d gone over this many times before.
“Um… what’s an Akuto ghost?”
Rui and Munto looked at each other. “Some of the Ancients relied on Akuto so much that they turned their bodies into it,” Munto said reluctantly. “But it’s not a common practice today. There’s a high risk of insanity accompanying the procedure, and those whose minds survive it eventually lose interest in having bodies at all. They just… disappear.”
“He knows his history, even if he is repeating it,” Rui quipped.
It sounded like a drawn-out version of anorexia to Yumemi. She shot Munto a worried look and picked at her food.
He nudged her glass. “Drink. Shuza said you needed to.”
“Oh, now we’re listening to what Shuza says.” Rui raised his glass to Yumemi. “Well, since you can’t have breakfast with Munto, you can have it with me.”
Munto twitched.
They took her to see Ryuely afterwards, an impossibly elegant woman with hair like wisteria. Rui took his leave before they reached the patio where Ryuely awaited, after exchanging a few more words about scouts and Elders with Munto, leaving Yumemi to walk beside the king a few paces.
“You two are good friends, aren’t you?”
“Hmm.” He almost smiled. “He’s been watching out for me since I was a child.”
“He seems like a good person.”
“He is.” Munto passed through the patio arch, holding aside some trailing plants so they wouldn’t whack Yumemi in the face. “This is where Ryuely works.”
Ryuely. The name felt familiar, though it wasn’t. But when she caught her first glimpse of the woman in purple, she gasped and threw a hand over her eyes.
Ryuely flinched, too. Munto tensed.
There was an awkward silence, filled only by an oblivious bird still greeting the morning.
“Yumemi.” Munto touched her shoulder. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
She lowered her hand. She was pale. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You are welcome here, Daughter of Destiny.” Ryuely’s voice was like music, filling the awkwardness.
Munto took his cue from the purple woman. “Yumemi, this is Ryuely. She’s the one who helped me find you.”
She’s the one who…
Yumemi scraped herself together and bowed politely. “I’m Yumemi Hidaka. How do you do?”
“Yumemi.” Ryuely’s gaze turned inward. “To dream. Are you a dreamer?”
Yumemi’s lips parted wordlessly, and Munto caught a flicker of pain across her face.
Even when she’s awake, she still --
“This is a pool of memory,” Munto interjected, indicating the shallow pond at Ryuely’s feet. “Sometimes it remembers the past. Sometimes the future.”
“That’s so,” Ryuely agreed, flowing smoothly with the change in subject. “It’s all present to the water.”
“If there’s something you need to see, ask her.” He glanced at the water, remembering, then at Yumemi. She was older now, and stronger, but next to Ryuely she looked like even more of a child. Still, there was determination woven in with the fear. “Come and see me later, when you’re done.”
He left then, with a last glance at the both of them. Yumemi wondered if he was worried. She wished he hadn’t gone. She wasn’t afraid of Ryuely, exactly, but there was a steel behind that soft voice that might do anything, absolutely anything.
“Well, Yumemi? Is there something you need to see?”
“Yes, please.” Yumemi came as near as she dared. “I - I don’t know what happened to my family after the dark ship attacked. Can you tell me if they’re all right?”
“Let us see.” Ryuely stepped into the pool; Yumemi, after some hesitation, followed.
She flinched as the water rose up in a swirling disc, but there was no knife in Ryuely’s hand.
Daughter of Destiny.
She caught her breath. It was Munto’s voice.
“The water remembers.” Whether Ryuely had heard the whisper too, she wasn’t sure, but she had noticed Yumemi’s reaction. “It’s seen you before.”
Yumemi. Yumemi. Yumemi.
Mother’s voice. Chikara’s. Suzume. Dad. Ichiko.
Yumemi.
The voices blurred, then resorted themselves, spiraling through her mind like scenes in a movie happening all at once.
“…disappeared. We don’t know whether…”
“--took her away! If that’s what she’s been seeing all the time, I’ll --“
“I don’t know what to say. That’s what the students told us. It’s not that…”
She saw her parents, talking late at night at the kitchen table. Her mother was crying; her father doing his best to comfort her.
Chikara sat by the TV set, but didn’t turn it on. His food was untouched.
“Big sister.”
Ichiko paced her room. It was a mess. She was arguing with someone. “--my fault! If I’d kept her from running off --“
“How many times do I have to tell you?”
Yumemi smiled involuntarily at those words, spoken by a little-girl voice.
“Yumemi is all right. She went because she had to go. Nothing you could have done would have stopped her.”
Suzume came into view. She was sitting cross-legged on the tatami, playing with a stuffed animal. A pink rabbit.
“What do you know!” Ichiko huffed. “I can’t believe you’re having fun while Yumemi is stranded who-knows-where!”
“Ichiko.” The matter-of-fact rebuke in Suzume’s voice brought the taller girl’s rant to a halt. “Yumemi is all right. We’ll see her again soon. While she’s gone, she doesn’t want us to be miserable.” She twirled one pink rabbit ear. “The best thing you can do is pull yourself together. You’re not helping anyone by worrying.”
“Ah, I can’t believe you…” But Ichiko’s complaining had lost most of its force.
“Isn’t that right, Yumemi?” And Suzume looked up, straight into Yumemi’s eyes.
“Suzume.” Yumemi reached out for that warm voice, her feet moving without asking her first. “Suzume!”
Her fingers touched wetness and the disc shredded, raining back into the pool. Yumemi blinked, not sure if the water on her cheeks was hers or the pool’s.
The pool’s, she decided. She didn’t feel like she’d been crying. No, in fact she felt lighter than air.
Her friends were all right. Her family was safe. Worried, but okay. And Suzume was there to reassure Ichiko. They had each other, after all.
She turned to find Ryuely watching her. Yumemi bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t broken a Big Rule by touching the swirling water.
“Well, Daughter of Destiny? Did what you saw comfort you, as Munto hoped?”
Yumemi’s smile was so radiant that it drew an answering smile from Ryuely. “Yes, thank you. I feel much better now.”
X X X
Ryuely escorted her a few paces up a walled pathway where, supposedly, Munto was waiting for her. Yumemi, braver after seeing the woman’s kind side, ventured a question.
“Mistress Ryuely?”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“Well…” It seemed a little nosy to ask sideways like this; on the other hand, she didn’t think she would get an answer out of Munto. “Why does King Munto not eat?”
Ryuely looked at her. Or through her.
“O-on my world,” Yumemi stammered, “when someone doesn’t eat, it’s serious. If they’re not sick, then it’s usually because they’re very unhappy.”
Ryuely considered that. “You are worried about Munto.”
Yumemi pulled on a lock of her hair. “Rui said the people here don’t need to eat, but most of them still do, and that the Ancients --“
That was a bit much, she decided, and stopped.
“Munto hasn’t eaten since his parents died.”
Yumemi froze. Ryuely walked a few steps more before realizing that she wasn’t beside her.
cursed child
did the former king --?
unhappy
“Oh,” Yumemi said faintly, and hurried to catch up, one hand on the path wall for balance. Those flashbacks always left her a little dizzy.
X X X
Munto was waiting for them at the edge of the land, looking out across the endless sky. He turned at the sound of their footsteps. Yumemi tried not to look guilty.
“I saw my family,” she offered, by way of thanking him. The memory of Suzume still prompted a smile. “They’re safe.”
He relaxed a little. “That’s good to hear.”
She looked into the blueness that stretched forever. She sensed, more than knew, lands far larger and more populous than the one she was standing on. “What’s going on out there?”
“Who knows?”
She shifted her gaze to him. “…I think you do know.”
“Ha. Well, I can deduct.” His gaze turned inward. “The other countries are scrambling to make sense of this second Akuto burst. They’ve stopped fighting because they don’t know what else might happen. Gunther has made his report to the Elders, and they’ll argue for a few days before concluding that they need to see you for themselves. They’ll withhold information from the countries, but word will leak out through Enda anyways, and the other rulers will come too. They’ll probably beat the Elders here, in fact, because they have less to lose from talking to me.”
“The Elders.” The phrase did not make her feel good.
“Yes.” He glanced at her, and she realized he didn’t much like the phrase either. “They’ll do anything to get their hands on you.”
She thought of the chunk of city now several meters higher than the land it had originally sat upon. “The Elders were behind that?”
“And Gunther.” He pointed. “Before that, they tried to bring down this land by destroying our pillars.”
She looked, and saw a tall spire of something like marble, white and purple and indigo. A peg that held this land to the sky. She looked, and saw, and accepted it, as she’d accepted her sky when a child. There were others, too, faint with distance.
“There are seven of them,” Munto supplied.
A wall of water; a tremor in the desert as the marble titan hurtled into the world below only to vanish. Yes, she had seen it before.
“My city is under this land…”
“It would have been destroyed.” He swept his hand at the empty-but-not-empty sky. “The others would have fallen too, eventually.”
Her heart rebelled against the idea of her home going up in meteoritic flames even as her mind conceived it. No, she didn’t care for the Elders at all.
But apparently, she was now at the center of their attention. She shivered. “Will they attack you again?”
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “They’ve tried that before, and there’s no way it could work now. Not an all out invasion.” He shook his head again, as though trying to rid himself of an idea that plagued him. “But they may try something underhanded.”
He turned to face her now, leaving the sky to its own devices. “That’s why it’s better if you’re always around someone. Rui, Shuza, Ryuely -- they’ll all protect you. The palace grounds should be safe, but that’s what worries me most; I’m afraid they’re not.”
“Ah.” She remembered spikes like the fangs of a giant spider, tearing land into the sky. “…I still think I’m safer up here.”
He half smiled. “You are.” He was serious again in an instant. “I’ll protect you. I swear.”
She accepted that, as she accepted most of what he said; on trust. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you.”
X X X
“So the Elders will come to talk?”
“Or rather, they’ll come to summon us to talk,” Rui amended. He had rejoined them on the way back to the palace, more reports and information for Munto in his hand and head. “But the meeting must be held here.”
“Here? They’re coming here?” Yumemi clasped her hands. “I don’t mind to go to another island --“
“No.” Munto’s voice brooked no argument.
“It’s not a question of convenience,” Rui explained. “By ordering a meeting on the mainland or in the Hall, the Elders also declare themselves in control of the results.”
Yumemi considered that. Something clicked then, another layer of thinking that she’d never accessed before; the double reasoning that went on in power circles, far from the ordinary world of ice cream and recess. Her eyes clouded. “So by holding in here instead, you insist on dictating the terms and the outcome.”
Rui’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Very good. Of course, it’d be unwise to press the issue if we weren’t in a position to hold our ground…”
“I understand, Rui-san.” She lifted her chin. “It’s a dominance thing, isn’t it? And if we let them win on this, they’ll walk all over us.”
Munto nodded. “You can’t… play by their rules. You have to set your own.”
“So be it, then.” She smiled matter-of-factly, the expression a little too wise for her young face. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Oh, they won’t be ready anytime soon.” Rui laughed. “By my reports, they’re still arguing, and will be for a day or two more.”
“They hate to see reason,” Munto agreed darkly.
“Especially when they thought they had a lid on it, themselves.”
“Mmm.” Yumemi touched her bottom lip. “So in the meantime, we just… wait?”
“No.” Munto tilted his head at the sky. “If you’re willing, I want your help to make the Akuto flow permanent. But… it may be difficult. I want you to rest for a few days first.”
Of course she would help. But… “The Akuto flow?”
“Tonight,” he said. “You can see it better when it’s dark.”
Munto was right, she discovered; by the time they got back to the palace, she was tired. One of the ubiquitous maids led her through the maze of halls back to her room, where she enjoyed another bath before collapsing into bed.
When she woke, the sun was setting.
She could tell by the licks of orange and pink around the edges of the curtains. She lay in bed for a few minutes longer, enjoying the absence of any need to get up immediately. How many mornings had she staggered out of her room still half asleep because she had to go to school?
School. After some thought, she decided that she didn’t miss it much. The food was better here, and she didn’t feel like a shadow. She wondered what Suzume would think of her room, and smiled; a picture of her friend jumping on the bed came to mind right away.
“That’s not what nice mattresses are for, silly,” she said aloud. “Besides, I don’t think these have springs.”
She poked at the cushion -- it was too flat and heavy to be like a mattress, really -- to test her theory, and nodded to herself. It had to be stuffed with goosedown or something like it. It was so warm and soft. The blankets were more like sheets, and they felt like silk to her, only warmer.
Floor length curtains screened off this corner of the room. She got up and walked through them, remembering her confusion that morning when she’d discovered that they weren’t one solid sheet but rather many lengths of thick, glossy thread. They looked like cloth but felt like beaded metal, and parted around her like water.
It was sunset, indeed. Shafts of sunlight were running from the edge of the land high into the blue above. She ran to the arched window, entranced, and wondered what the view was like from the very edge.
It couldn’t be much better than here. The dusk colors were like a painter gone wild, coloring everything in shades it normally wasn’t. Her own skin glowed bluish, reddish, and gold in the shifting lights, and a light warm wind blended hues across anything that swayed in the breeze -- grass, trees, water, clouds.
“Hello!”
She looked up. A little girl was, impossibly, hanging upside-down from the windowsill. The top of the windowsill.
“Who on earth are you?” she managed. What she wanted to say was, “Suzume, for heaven’s sake, get down from there!”
It wasn’t Suzume, but the lively eyes had deceived her for half a second. Plus it was hard to assess someone’s appearance upside down.
“Ha!” A fat lick of orange hair danced as the child pointed at her triumphantly. “You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are.”
“And who might I be?” Yumemi prompted, her curiosity aroused.
The girl cartwheeled in place, landing with her feet on the gravity side of the windowsill. “You’re Munto’s dream,” she said simply. “Gus wants to meet you.”
“Who’s Gus?”
The girl looked shocked. “Don’t you know anything? Man. Everyone knows who the Outsider is.”
The Outsider. That did ring a bell, but beyond a vague feeling that he was someone important, Yumemi knew little.
The visitor bounced into the room as though she owned it. “My name’s Irita,” she announced. “I’m Gus’s apprentice. He says Munto should watch you better. In fact, he sent me to keep an eye on you.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t want to, but Leica said she would take care of Gus. She’s bossy.”
Irita darted through the water-metal curtains, and by the light of the lamp tucked beside the bed Yumemi could make out that she was testing the spring of the mattress with her hands.
“It’s not bouncy,” she called, squashing a laugh. If Irita wanted to be taken seriously, she was blowing it with her youthful behavior.
“Pooh.” She cartwheeled back through the curtains. “Munto must not think you’re important if anyone can sneak into your room like this.”
“I knew you wouldn’t hurt Yumemi.”
Both girls froze; Irita’s last cartwheel ended with an undignified sprawl when her brain couldn’t keep up with her muscles.
Munto was leaning against the door. Yumemi hadn’t heard the door open or shut, and she was absolutely certain he hadn’t been in the room a second ago. She’d always been able to sense presences, and his was like a blowtorch.
“King Munto!” Irita bounced upright, taken aback. “Gus says --“
“Tell Gus to keep his business to himself. I can take care of Yumemi without his help.”
“Silly!” Irita stamped her foot. “You couldn’t have gotten her without his help --“
Munto uncrossed his arms. “Is that all you came to say?”
“No.” Irita sounded subdued. “He… he just wants to meet her.” She sniffed. "Please.”
The wind ruffled the curtains. Oranges and reds darkened to purples and blues. Yumemi stood still, once more the center of an argument she didn’t understand.
“Come on. You know he could have dropped in any time he wanted.” Irita gulped. “It means a lot to him.”
Finally, Munto inclined his head. Irita was right; the fact that Gus was asking his permission at all was a tacit acknowledgement of his authority here, especially where Yumemi was concerned. “All right.”
“Oh!” Irita’s face glowed. “He’ll be so happy --“
She disappeared. Yumemi blinked and waved her hand in front of her face. No effect. Irita had vanished in front of her eyes.
“She’s gone to tell Gus.” Munto was outside the room now, holding the door open for her.
Yumemi blinked and waved again, just to make sure, then gave up and turned away -- and caught Munto smirking.
She blushed. “People don’t disappear down below!”
His smile faded. “That must be nice.”
Ouch. “It depends,” she murmured, thinking of her preschool years. Sometimes people did disappear, vanished by events of life, disasters, moves, whatever… but not like this. “Are you going to show me the… the Akuto…”
“The Akuto flow.” He closed the door once she was out and ran a hand over the lock. It glowed briefly. She wondered, but didn’t ask. It probably had something to do with the Elders, and what Irita had said about security, and odds were she didn’t want the scary details. He’d tell her if she needed to know.
“Come on.” He led the way down another hall, trusting her to follow. She ran to keep up, her sandals tapping softly against the tiles, and he shortened his stride. No use tiring her out before they got there.
They passed outside under an arch Yumemi hadn’t seen before, and continued on; through the palace grounds and beyond them, down a sloping road, between sleeping villas of stucco and more tile. She could sense movement and life within them, but most of the people seemed to have retired for the night.
It was surprisingly quiet. Her own city was never this subdued at night. But then, there were no sounds of traffic here, no trains, no generators humming. She could hear crickets and frogs and the song of a nightingale, or something like it. Eventually the houses fell away on either side and they were walking across wild grass interspersed with boulders.
“Watch out.” Munto held out an arm to keep her from passing, and she realized with a start that she was mere feet from the edge.
She waited for a wave of fear or dizziness, but nothing came. It was more like being in a plane, she thought as she leaned cautiously over his arm to get a better look. The clouds were so far below, the ground so unreal from this height, that the sight failed to inspire fear the way a much lower cliff might.
“Where’s the Akuto flow?”
“There.”
She sighted along his arm and finally spotted… something. It was so faint that at first she thought it was an arm of the Milky Way.
“You can see it better if you look off to one side,” he suggested.
He was right. She’d wondered why he’d bothered to walk all this way when he didn’t have to. Maybe he’d been giving her night vision a chance to kick in. A good thing, too; even now she could barely see it.
Now that she knew what to look for, though, she could pick out a slowly rotating mass of light. Or maybe it looked slow because… “It’s big, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Much bigger than it looks from here.”
She checked the grass for sharp or dirty things and sat down to get a steadier look at the thing. “But it’s so much softer compared to before.”
He followed her down. “This is what the normal cycle is supposed to look like. That was many centuries’ worth of pent-up Akuto.”
“Ah.” At the center of the mass, the light spiraled downwards in tightening bands, like a slow-motion whirlpool. No, that wasn’t right, she realized; it was spiraling upwards, broadening as it opened out into the skies. “So that’s the Akuto flow?”
“That’s part of it. The other half is when the Akuto breaks up and falls back down, like snow. But that’s a constant process, and it happens on a microscopic scale, everywhere. So you don’t notice it.”
“Not in great chunks, like I’ve been seeing?”
He chuckled, but his humor sounded dark. “No. Those, like our huge Akuto bursts, are unnatural.”
She thought back to their earlier conversation. “And… it’s not permanent?”
He winced. “Not yet. What you’re seeing is the path we opened by breaking through time. Left to itself, it will fade. We need you to make the cycle permanent.”
“How can I help make something that big permanent?”
“Not yet. When you’re stronger.”
She was starting to get worried. “Is it going to hurt?”
As though in answer, he took her hand.
Outsider glyphs arced from his hand, circling their wrists lazily. She felt his call, a gentle invitation, and found that responding was as natural as breathing. Threads of living Akuto raced to twine with the language of time, gold on black, giving it strength.
He let go. She felt a sense of loss as the spirals of energy disappeared.
“It’s not the process that’s difficult -- it’s the scale.”
She looked back at that great whorl of energy among the clouds. Scale, indeed! “I don’t think I can --“
“Believe me, Yumemi.” He commandeered her hand again, demonstrating the ease with which she followed his lead when the time glyphs appeared. Again, her Akuto swirled outward like a bird in flight. “You were born to do this.”
Munto, the one person in position to best kick her down should he wish to, the skydweller who didn’t hesitate to pronounce something almost impossible and then fling himself into it if he thought there was the slightest chance of success - Munto thought she could do it.
Apparently he knew more about her than she did, because she wasn’t so certain. But, she reflected, he always had. Even before he’d known her name, he had known what she could do. And crazy as the whole thing had seemed at the time, he’d been right.
“I do believe you.” It was a choice, not just a feeling. And she meant it. She would back it up with everything she had in her. If she didn’t, she might as well not have come.
He smiled, and his smile was like sunrise. “I know.”
Then he yanked her behind himself and turned like a panther, raking the ledge at their feet with a sheet of fire. Yumemi, shocked by the ferocity she’d glimpsed in his face, trembled in place and tried to keep still.
“It’s me.” A deep voice drifted across the night air. “I mean no harm.”
“Gus.” The crackling in the air around them subsided, and she had a fleeting impression of flames fading into embers. Munto lowered his fist. “Show yourself.”
Yumemi blinked. A man was standing on the air in front of them. Just standing, and he hadn’t been there before. “You do well to be cautious. She’s a prize worth killing for.”
“She’s under my protection.” Munto’s voice was heated.
Gus tilted his head in assent.
“Ho! As though you could stop the Outsider.” And suddenly Irita was there too, bounding from rock to rock as though gravity had forgotten about her. She skidded to a halt almost between Munto and Gus, but stopped short of the line of potential fire.
Munto relaxed his grip on her wrist. Yumemi took that as permission to creep round his side for a better view.
“I’m not an Outsider anymore.” Gus’s expression changed slightly at the sight of the child-girl peering from behind the Magical King. Sensing no danger, she ventured another step, and then another.
“And Munto isn’t alone anymore,” Gus concluded, taking in the flurry of energy dancing between the pair’s hands. And suddenly he went down on one knee. “It’s a very great honor to meet you… the Key to Time.”
“Oh, please don’t.” Yumemi ran forward to stop him. Rather than let go of her hand, Munto allowed her to drag him toward the edge. “Get up. I’m not royalty.”
Gus laughed but got up. “I don’t bow to royalty. You are the treasure we lost so long, long ago.”
“Eh?”
“I’m Gus, once Outsider.”
Yumemi wasn’t sure what that meant, but she curtsied anyways. “My name is Yumemi.”
“Yumemi.” Gus considered that. “To dream. Are you a dreamer?”
“I…” It didn’t sound like an accusation, but the phrase still pricked a nerve.
Gus turned to Munto. “Their discussions are raging, but the conclusion is inevitable. Sooner or later, they will come.”
“I know.”
“When they do, she’ll be in danger. You mustn’t let them lure you off this island.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be watching.”
“Heh.” Munto smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. She had a feeling that Gus annoyed him. All the same, they didn’t seem to be on bad terms. “I know.”
“Good. You haven’t killed yourself thus far. I suppose you might make it after all.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that!”
Gus grinned. “Let’s go, Irita.” And with that, he vanished.
“Oh! Gus, wait for me!” Irita leaped into the air and winked out in turn.
“Treasure?” Yumemi shook her head. She was never going to get used to that. “I’m barely fifteen. What was that all about?”
Munto glanced at her thoughtfully, then scanned the air where their visitors had disappeared. “I’m not sure. Outsider business, no doubt.”
“No doubt,” Yumemi agreed faintly, wishing she had some clue to as to what that meant.
X X X
It was a quiet walk back. Munto seemed to have other things on his mind, and Yumemi found that she had plenty to think about too.
Besides, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Somewhere along the way back, Munto had offered his arm, and she felt no awkwardness in taking it. The last few days had had her on overload; the nighttime peace was a welcome break.
They had been worse than busy for Munto, and according to Rui he hadn’t been sleeping much. Maybe he didn’t mind the quiet either.
Her mind came back to the present with a start. “We’re going back a different way, aren’t we?”
Munto glanced around. “I thought you might like to see a little more of the place. And in the morning - Yumemi?”
She had stopped and wouldn’t budge. They were a little outside the palace grounds, at the foot of a knoll that had a ceremonial feel to it. A large structure, something like an amphitheater, crowned the top of the elevation. It was a beautiful construct, with marble arches and high-flung walls like the palace buildings, but -
Don’t go!
We will return to Akuto, as required by law.
“Yumemi!”
She clutched her head, images pushing each other aside in their haste to crowd into her mind. Two figures, beloved outlines, looking back at her and then turning away, breaking apart into thousands of shimmering tears.
She caught a glimpse, just a glimpse, of their faces. They were her parents.
“Mom! Dad!”
Visions and reality blurred. She dropped to her knees, crying out with visceral pain. A sense of loss too deep for words swept through her body.
“Yumemi!”
Strong hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “Yumemi, what is it?”
She shook her head mutely, gasping, trying to get herself under control.
“Tell me.” He knew, or suspected. Why was he asking? She shook her head again. Speaking was beyond her.
He sighed and picked her up. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
She shook her head again. The tears wouldn’t stop. “It’s not all right,” she sobbed. “It’s not.”
X X X
“Munto!”
A door banged, punctuating the shout. Munto looked up to see Rui dash into the sunroom, trailed by Ryuely.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Of course.” Rui unburdened himself on the table. He had some hot cloths, a covered dish, and a bottle from Shuza. Probably something to calm her down if need be. “How is she?”
“I’m not sick,” Yumemi insisted, mopping her face with a sleeve. New tears streamed down to contradict her words. She was glad Munto had taken her to the breakfast sunroom instead of to Shuza. It was embarrassing enough to have three people fussing over her. “I’m so sorry for the bother --“
“Shhh.” Munto handed her a hot cloth. She buried her face in it gratefully, letting the damp warmth sooth her skin.
There was a calming scent in the cloth. It smelled like a cross between chamomile and myrrh -- the tea she had at home, and the exotic resin one teacher had shown her in a biology class, long ago. She’d never forgotten that aroma.
Between the warmth and the scent and the hand on her shoulder, she felt the knot in her stomach ease. Gradually, the wrenching sobs lessened and stopped.
“I’m sorry.” She exchanged cloths for the third time. “I’m so sorry. I --“
“Stop apologizing.” The words were brusque, but the king’s tone was gentle.
“What did you --“ Ryuely stopped at a curt gesture from Munto and rephrased her question. “Did you… see something?”
Miserably, Yumemi nodded.
“Is… anything… going to happen?” Ryuely picked her words carefully, trying to avoid anything that might trigger another storm.
“No.” Yumemi’s voice was scratchy, but discussing the event in the abstract did seem to help her rein in her feelings. “It’s already over.”
She twisted the cloth miserably. Her parents had been okay just a day ago, and she doubted anything had happened since then. She’d had flashbacks like this before, Ryuely had mentioned it this morning, Rui had hinted as well, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that the switch in faces was a form of empathy. This wasn’t really about her, despite all the fuss. “Long, long over.”
Rui and Ryuely exchanged glances, then zeroed in on Munto, who looked uncomfortable.
“Call me if you need anything.” Rui gathered up the disheveled cloths and indicated the covered dish. “Shuza said to make sure she ate this.”
Her innards clenched at the thought of food. Yumemi shook her head. “No way. I can’t eat.”
“You’re starting to sound like someone I know.” Rui looked from her to Munto and back, made a face, then cocked his head at the king and jabbed a finger at the dish with such an expression that Yumemi knew eating wasn’t optional and Munto was supposed to make sure she did. Then he left.
Slowly, Munto picked up the dish. Yumemi raised her eyes from her last cloth and looked at him over it, defiant.
“If I eat that, I’ll be sick.”
He put the lid on the table. “It’s a medicinal broth. It’s easy to get down.”
“How would you know?”
The ghost of a smile crossed his face. “You really don’t want to eat this, do you?”
“I don’t want to barf in front of you.”
“You won’t.”
She crossed her arms. “You’re just saying that so I’ll cooperate.”
He stirred the liquid slowly, watching the spoon as though its movements would tell him the future. “Mother used to make this for me, when I was little. It always helped.”
Her protests died in her throat. Ryuely, forgotten in the background, muffled a noise of surprise.
Yumemi regarded the dish with grudging respect. “Always?” she asked uncertainly.
“Always.”
She bit her lip, then turned her palms up. Munto laid the bowl in her hands and backed his chair off a bit, watching without being too obvious about it.
The bowl warmed her hands. She sniffed experimentally; it had a light, easy scent, almost bland. Nothing too scary there. She set it on the table so she could take a proper spoonful without dumping it all in her lap -- that would be the crowning humiliation of the day.
It tasted…
“It’s nice,” she said in surprise. It warmed her inside, and her tummy relaxed instead of protesting. “Strange, but nice.”
Munto let out the breath he’d been holding. “I know.”
“Pffft. You know everything, don’t you.” Her eyelids were drooping now.
“Almost.” He pulled the dish aside so she wouldn’t fall asleep in it. “Ryuely, help her to bed.”
A delegation arrived from the Elders the next day, preceded by several hours by messengers from other countries. Munto gave strict orders to keep Yumemi out of sight and received all the visitors in a separate wing of the palace, away from her room. Everyone seemed a little tenser than usual, even the maids. They provided cheerfully for her every need, but the lighting speed at which they appeared when she called was new, as was the recurring sensation of hair standing on end. She sensed that they wouldn’t hesitate to defend her, should she need them to.
She did, thankfully, have free run of the great covered gardens, on the other side of the grounds; they were judged safe enough from prying eyes that she walked them whenever she pleased. Sometimes Ryuely accompanied her, and told her the names of the flowers and birds that burst from every surface. Sometimes Rui joined them briefly, with a bundle of reports under one arm and a cheerful anecdote or two about the way Munto’s attitude was rubbing the Elders. Even Irita joined her on occasion, cartwheeling through the flowers as though they’d been planted for no other reason -- and regretting it when they proved to have thorns or irritative sap.
And sometimes she came alone. Having no set duties was getting on her nerves, so at her request the gardeners had showed her some of the easiest work and given her a few tools to amuse herself with. She had a feeling they were ready for damage control but thought that a few ruined plants were a small price to pay to keep the Daughter of Destiny happy.
Well, she wasn’t an expert, but she wasn’t a walking disaster when it came to plants, either. Between school and her part-time job, she’d never had much time for gardening, but she did have a green thumb. She picked a spot far enough away from the walkways to be unimportant and concentrated on that, pulling weeds and then thinning bulbs until they had room to breathe. Lovely as the place was, it had been neglected and it showed. People didn’t have time for flowers during invasions.
She kept working outwards in a circle, returning to the same area day after day. Grass brightened, flowers bloomed, and soil sweetened behind her. Before long, the gardeners gave her a bigger shovel and pointed her to a bridged pond strangled by ivy. She set to with a will, yanking vines and digging up the pernicious rootballs to keep them from coming back.
It might not be as important as crossing time, but it was satisfying work. She headed there one evening after dinner, stopping by her room to change out of her good shift into the rougher work dress the maids always left out for her now.
Rui passed her in the hall. “Gardening again?”
She smiled. “I don’t have anything else to do.”
“Oh, you’ll have plenty in a day or two.” He tapped his papers. “Between Munto and the ever conspicuous Outsider, the Elders are beginning to think they might have to listen to sense. Might even have to soil their feet on the land they tried to sink. Ha!”
She remembered the first time she’d met the enigmatic time guardian. “Gus said he’s not an Outsider anymore.”
“Technicalities. He may not be as powerful now that his contract is broken, but he’s still a force to be reckoned with. And if there’s to be a next Outsider, it’s Gus who will pick him or her.”
Yumemi processed that. “So his opinion is important.”
“To the Elders, it is.” He smiled lopsidedly. “I don’t think Munto cares what anyone thinks so long as they leave us alone.”
“Ha. I think you’re right.”
“He sure doesn’t care when I complain how much running I do.” Rui snapped her a wave and dashed off. “See you at the talks!”
“Ah. The talks.” Yumemi waved back with a cheeriness she didn’t feel. These talks were making her more and more worried. Munto no doubt knew exactly what he’d be doing, and to all appearances he knew what the Elders would be doing too. What she didn’t know was what she was supposed to be doing. It was a little hard to prepare for an event when she had no idea what her place in it was.
Those thoughts weighed her down as she exited the palace and headed for the arch that marked the entrance to the multi-tiered Gardens. They were swept from her mind as twin blurs of white cut across her path, wheeling around her with a subdued whoosh of air.
“Oh!” She dropped her basket. They were swans, magnificent swans with a wingspan of eight feet at least. They circled once more, calling wildly, and then dipped through the arch into the gardens.
She scooped up her tools and ran after them as fast as she could, hurtling down the spiral vine steps with nary a thought for the edge. The sheer beauty of those birds made her feel she could fly.
She craned her neck, caught sight of them banking off towards her bridged pond -- and crashed off the last few steps, landing in a sweet-smelling shrub. Thankful she hadn’t twisted an ankle, she scrambled to her feet. Sandals were no match for wings.
They were indeed settling on her pond, a few white feathers trailing them down. Almost before they hit the water they were paddling for the bridge, flapping for a little extra speed.
“Yumemi?”
Munto stood on the bridge, surprised and pleased to see her. His hands were full of bread crusts.
“Swans,” she gasped, and pointed. She was out of breath from running, but her radiant face told most of the story.
“So you came here chasing them.” He smiled.
The bridge had a railing, but there was plenty of space between the slats. The swans hopped up easily and crowded his ankles, flapping threateningly, beaks working overtime.
He handed her a crust. “Here. Help, before they eat me.”
“Oh…” She crumbled the bread as he was doing, then held out her hands in wonder. The larger bird switched targets and took the food from her fingers. She laughed nervously as its beak beat a tempo against her palm, but it didn’t pinch.
“Don’t let them smack you across the shin with their wings. It hurts.”
“Their wings hurt?” She looked at the fragile structures, amazed. She’d never seen swans so close up before.
“They’re stronger than they look.”
Her hands were empty; he refilled them. The swans ate peremptorily, washing the scraps down with pond water. Finally sated, they nudged empty hands and then drifted off to look for pond goodies instead.
Munto dusted his hands and leaned against the railing. “They come here every night. I try to bring them something when I can.”
Yumemi stood on tiptoe to catch one last glimpse, clutching the railing for balance. “How do they know about this place?”
“I think they were hatched here. There was an aviary, in my grandfather’s time, but for the last few decades it’s been… neglected. The birds keep coming back, though. ”
“So this is like home to them.”
“Mm-hmm.” He touched her basket. “The gardeners tell me you’ve been working here. It looks nice.”
She blushed. His straightforwardness was as disconcerting as it was reassuring. He might as well say straight out that he’d been keeping tabs on her. “You’re feeding and clothing me. I started feeling like a freeloader.”
“You’re not.”
“That’s not the point.” She plunked the basket on the railing. “I know everyone is grateful, but obligation wears thin if you lean on it too hard, you know?” She traced a circle on the railing. Lacy root-prints from the ivy were still visible, but it did look a lot better without the vines. “Besides, I did it for my friends and family. Not because I’m a hero.”
He smiled, the compassionate smile of someone with far too much inside information, and she blushed again. The fact that she’d been such a coward about it all the first time did not make her feel better. “I-is it going well at the talks?”
“More or less.” He shrugged indifferently, and she caught a glimpse of the “attitude” Rui had mentioned. “The Elders know they don’t have any choice but to listen to me, but they’d rather eat their robes than admit it. Gunther’s been laying low and that worries me; he’s bound to be up to something behind the scenes.”
“Gunther.” She felt a chill. “The dark ship.”
“Ah. That’s him. He’s more dangerous than the rest of them put together.”
She shivered again. “I should have brought a jacket.”
He slid out of his cloak and draped it across her shoulders, ignoring her protest. “You’re safe with me, Yumemi.”
She buried her hands in the warm cloth. “I know.”
“Now who knows everything?”
“Well…” She hesitated, but the question had been eating her the past few days. “Munto, can I…”
He waited, his expression open. She took courage. “Um, after… after your parents…” She rubbed her temple. It still hurt to think about that. The flashback had given her insides a bruise she would never forget. She’d never dealt with death in an up close, personal way; never had someone dear to her leave knowing they would never come back. Even the memory of that pain defied bearing. Yumemi, who’d struggled so with peer interaction and had almost broken under a visit from reality, had a question. “It hurt so much -- so much. How -- how did you keep going?”
He looked out over the water, his face unreadable.
Silence.
She bit her lip, wondering if she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have --“
His arm circled her waist and her feet left the bridge. Yumemi caught her breath as he shot them both thirty feet sideways, landing halfway up in one of the massive banyan-like trees dotting the gardens. Only implicit trust and a certainty that he knew what he was doing kept her from screaming.
He didn’t have any trouble keeping his balance on the broad bough, but Yumemi wasn’t so sure about herself. Somehow being this far up in a tree was much scarier than looking over the edge of the land. She held very still and tried to concentrate on the arm around her middle. Munto wouldn’t drop her. He wouldn’t drop her.
“Someone’s coming,” he murmured.
She heard it too, now; light footsteps. It was possible that it was a citizen, but maybe the fact that he or she was walking meant it was a person who couldn’t use Akuto directly. In other words, a foreigner.
A woman clothed in white stepped into view. Twin swords were strapped to her hips, but her manner wasn’t threatening. She looked about, as though hoping to find someone, then shrugged when she didn’t.
“Gunther has been spotted,” she said conversationally. “I thought you’d like to know.”
Munto dropped out of the tree like an angry bat, bringing Yumemi with him. “Leica. Where the hell is Gus?”
“He said he’d keep an eye on him, and not to worry, that Irita knows what to do.”
Yumemi felt Munto exhale in an exasperated way. “She’d better. This isn’t a game.”
Leica smiled crookedly. “After a few days around her, I’m not sure she knows the difference.”
Her attention switched to Yumemi. Yumemi saw her take in the cloak across her shoulders and felt her cheeks heat; this situation could easily be taken the wrong way. Leica’s eyes were alive with interest, but she said nothing.
Munto relented. “This is Leica, general of Enda. She’s an ally.”
Yumemi bowed. “I’m Yumemi.”
Leica bowed back. “I am pledged to protect the Daughter of Destiny, for the good of my own country. It’s a great honor to meet you.”
“Ah… thank you.”
With a nod to Munto, the lady in white withdrew.
The silence that followed was heavy. “Maybe I should go back,” Yumemi ventured, afraid that he was still mad about her query. She wondered where her basket had landed, and whether she’d be able to find all the tools in the grass.
“No!”
If the hand on her shoulder hadn’t stopped her, his voice would have. He took a breath, then pulled her towards the other side of the garden. “Besides, I thought you had a question.”
“It’s all right, if you don’t --“
“Come on.” He picked her up. “It’s easier to show you.”
She stifled a yelp as the ground blurred, trees whipping by too close for comfort. Munto knew his way around, though, and they were out of the garden in seconds without a scratch to show for her fright.
For all that, the ground kept dropping. The houses diminished to the size of insects, and even the palace looked small.
He landed on top of a pillar, the one he’d shown her earlier -- it seemed a long time ago now -- and let her down. “See?”
She exclaimed over the incredible circumference of the pillar, trying to imagine what kind of industry it would take to craft something this huge. It was big enough to play soccer on. No, big enough for a housing complex. No, big enough --
“Big enough to hold up the sky,” she murmured.
“Yes, yes. That’s not what I meant.” He turned her around to face the palace again, bringing his hands up over her shoulders to frame the greater part of the island between his thumbs and forefingers. “That.”
She raised her own hands, repeating the frame on a smaller scale. “That?”
“That’s what kept me going,” he said quietly.
A flutter of images, blending house and palace and faces with ears sharp and blunt, and she understood.
“Home. It’s your home.”
“Mm. If I gave up, they had nothing left. I was their last hope. And you were mine.”
The wind tugged at her borrowed cloak. She tucked it closer, feeling the nip of the high air, then sat down as though her body had suddenly become too heavy for her legs. “It’s a big responsibility,” she said slowly, “being someone’s last hope. Isn’t it?”
He sat down, long legs crossing gracefully, and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re taking it well.”
“Haha.” It was a nervous laugh. She hadn’t really wanted him to evaluate her performance, as he wouldn’t sugarcoat anything, but for the same reason his words reassured her. “Thanks. You’ve been kind to me.”
He waved that away. “You’re a guest. And we’re friends.”
She stole a glance at him, considering that.
Munto was nothing like Ichiko. He was nothing like Suzume. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known. And yet, he’d protected her from the beginning. He’d told her the truth she needed to hear. He’d won her trust, and trusted her in turn.
She’d only been here a few days. But in some ways, she knew him better than anyone else in the world.
Her mind switched tracks abruptly when a flash lit up the night.
She gasped. “That was near the palace!”
Munto didn’t move. “So it was.”
Rui’s idle-sounding query, Leica’s visit, and the considerable distance between them and her room suddenly fell into a pattern. “You know what’s going on, don’t you?” she accused.
He chuckled. “I have a pretty good idea.”
X X X
She was sleeping peacefully, her window wide open. The curtains flapped like a beacon, announcing to all who wished to know that someone careless dreamed within.
“So small,” the stranger marveled as he lifted her deftly, taking the sheets and all. Her hair slithered between his fingers like a living thing. It was long, but not unusually so. The color was ambiguous in the lamplight, and he had yet to see her eyes --
But that was all irrelevant. What mattered was how fast she would crack under a little pain.
The window was open, but that was so obvious that he avoided it. Besides, it overlooked an open space far too exposed to suit him. He burst the lock on the door with ease -- why did they even bother? -- and slipped down the hallway, through several archways, to the sleek little craft hidden in a corner of the grounds.
Oh, they noticed when he streaked away like a sonic boom, but by then it was too late. Even people who could fly couldn’t keep up with a powered craft for long. The shouts and pursuit continued, and when he glanced back the palace was swarming with suddenly brilliant lights and activity -- but the Akuto attacks ceased after the first scattered rounds.
“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” He recognized that voice; Munto’s blue-haired general, an annoying lad as cool in battle as over the breakfast table.
“You’ll hurt the Daughter of Destiny!” Rui was calling. The bombardment ceased instantly.
“Yes, and we wouldn’t want that happening,” the stranger crooned. “Not before I hurt her, that is.”
She was awake now, squirming in the sheets.
“Don’t bother,” he advised. “Rose silk is too strong for a little girl to break.”
The pilot was waiting impatiently by his misshapen craft, a larger version of the one the stranger was using. He wore a standard issue United Army uniform, but his helmet was missing, indicating that this mission was one not officially sanctioned by the Elders.
Of course it wasn’t. Whether they were behind it or not, they would never admit to being involved; the public blowback would be disastrous. Especially if the mission failed.
“Well? Do you have her?”
The operative patted the bundle under his arm. He was one of the Elder’s darker secrets, a specially trained infiltrator who moonlighted in torture and information retrieval. He was also rumored to have a nasty temper. Being around him made the pilot nervous. “Nothing to it.”
“Hurry up.” The pilot swept into the bigger craft with an agitated flutter of his hands; the thought of being caught by a furious Magical King worried him more than being stuck with this blood-soaked kidnapper.
The operative secured his airskimmer with a deft movement and followed, throwing his find over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The ship jolted as they lifted off. Both men swayed as the engines kicked in, but kept their balance easily.
“I thought you said this would be difficult.”
“We’re not out of danger yet, you fool,” the pilot snapped, pouring on more speed. “I doubt the Magical King will let us go without a fight.”
“He can’t attack us.” The operative patted the bundle of sheets. “He won’t risk hurting his precious -- eh?”
The sheets collapsed on each other limply, empty. Both men looked around the interior wildly.
“Up here!”
The little girl was, impossibly, clinging to the ceiling, waving jauntily. Her golden hair flicked with each movement. “Are you looking for me?”
Was this some strange ground dweller power they hadn’t heard about? No matter; they’d look into that later.
The pilot pointed at the floor. “Get down here!”
Green eyes flashed as she smirked. “Make me, old man.”
He gaped. “I’m not --“
“You should respect your elders.” The operative dropped the sheets to reveal a nasty-looking projectile weapon -- a highly illegal one, as the pilot recalled. He snapped a bolt into the ceiling -- but she wasn’t there anymore.
“Too slow, you loser.”
She was getting on his nerves. The navigation array she was perched on went up in smoke.
“Stop!” the pilot shouted, already sensing a pattern. “You idiot!”
“Yeah, stop it.” She streaked from one wall to another, smacking the operative’s butt in passing. “You’ll never catch me anyways.”
“Aaaagh!” The operative rammed his weapon setting to max and demolished the hatch. The child, as usual, was just a hair ahead of him.
“That was a little better,” she admitted, inspecting a singe on her leg. “But you’re still way behind.”
“Gyah!
The pilot cringed as his supposed comrade in arms blew a hole in rear of the ship. In other words, the engine block. The ship shuddered and dipped. Chemicals never meant to come into direct contact with each other mixed and sparked.
“Well! You’re a lot of fun, but I think this ride is over.” She hopped out the door and landed on the airskimmer, unfastening it with a wave of her hand.
The kidnapper tried one last time to roast her, but she hadn’t powered up before undocking the smaller craft, and it dropped from sight like a stone. The energy bolt flew harmlessly off into the sky while her jubilant “Wheeeee!” spiraled up to mock them.
The pilot rushed to the controls to do what he could. The child, watching from her stolen prize, saw the bigger ship steady.
“Ah, ah, we can’t have that now, can we?” She giggled and powered up the airskimmer, then aimed it carefully at the other ship and kicked free.
Riding the shockwave of the explosion was even more fun than freefalling. She laughed, blew a rasberry at the crippled mess, and disappeared.
X X X
“You’re sure they didn’t escape?”
“Define escape.” She shrugged. “The engine blew up. I’m pretty sure they couldn’t go anywhere but down.”
Rui was shouting orders somewhere in the background, and people were running or milling about everywhere. That something had happened, everyone knew by now -- the flash in the sky had been impossible to miss -- but details were scarce.
“We mustn’t underestimate those two.” Gus stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“I followed them as far as I dared, but I couldn’t get close enough to see the actual crash,” his apprentice admitted. “Only Munto is crazy enough to go down there.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Munto swept into the room through a window, Yumemi in his arms. He was seething. “Perhaps you’d care to explain why you chose to have this discussion in the main audience room instead of somewhere private.”
Gus was unruffled. “It seemed like the best way to reassure your people without actually telling them anything.”
“Speak of the devil!” Irita ran in his direction and turned cartwheels, but was too prudent to get within arm’s reach. “Be happy, King Munto. Don’t I make a good Yumemi?”
Yumemi was staring at this outgoing version of herself. So were most of the people in the room. Rui himself glanced with admiration between the doppelgangers, though he obviously had no trouble telling them apart.
The other citizens might have thought it strange that the shy, quiet Yumemi had suddenly appeared in an audience room to exchange lively conversation with the Outsider, but it was true that the sight of her had kept panic from spreading. The relief was turning to confusion now, but with the real Yumemi present, that did no harm. Munto, after an assessing glance, reined in his temper. He put Yumemi down.
Yumemi was still staring. “Irita?”
“Haha! No, you’re Irita. I’m Yumemi!” Irita flipped in demonstration, her nightgown flapping dangerously. One skinny leg sported a bandage. “Fooled you, didn’t I?”
Yumemi giggled. “Not really.”
“There’s no way I could confuse you two,” Munto observed.
“Oh, everyone’s a critic!” Irita’s hair flamed orange, and her clothes melted into her usual gaudy outfit and belt. “It was good enough to fool them, and that’s all that counts.”
A ripple of recognition ran through the crowded audience room, along with murmers of Irita, Irita. The story, Munto knew, would be all over the kingdom by morning. And probably beyond.
Yumemi squeaked. “You were kidnapped instead of me? Oh, you poor thing!” She rushed to Irita and put her hands on her shoulders comfortingly. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right? You must have been so frightened.”
“Are you kidding? It was a blast. Can I do it again, Gus?”
Yumemi directed a confused look at Munto, who shrugged fractionally. That’s Irita.
“I don’t think the Elders will want to repeat their failure.” Gus nodded to Yumemi, then gestured. “Come on, Irita. Let’s go.”
“Bye, Yumemi!” Irita waved, then followed her master.
Yumemi was still absorbing it all. “You all planned this from the start?” she asked as Rui came up to them.
“Their ship crashing was an unexpected bonus,” Rui observed.
Yumemi shot a look at Munto.
“Well, maybe not so unexpected,” Rui admitted, following the glance. “But I didn’t think she’d go that far. She’s skilled, but her job was to fool them and escape. Even so, it was a dangerous thing to do.”
“I guess she doesn’t follow orders well,” Yumemi murmured.
Munto spoke briefly to some of his soldiers, then tugged the both of them out of the room. “Come on. Somewhere quieter.”
In the hallway, he told Rui to calm things down and reassure the people that Yumemi was safe -- “Not difficult, with two of her running around for a bit there,” Rui observed wryly -- and then gestured for a maid, who appeared out of nowhere.
“I think you’d feel better in a different room. She’ll take you there.”
“Oh.” Come to think of it, Yumemi supposed she wouldn’t sleep that well in a room that’d just been breached by a kidnapper. “Thank you.”
He nodded good night, and the maid led her away.
The new room was down a different hall, but looked exactly like the old one. Yumemi laid Munto’s cloak on the dresser and changed. All the excitement had tired her out. She was asleep within minutes.
Rui went looking for Munto early next morning. He found him, not surprisingly, in the war chambers.
“Don’t you ever sleep?”
“It’s the Elders, isn’t it?” Munto didn’t look surprised.
Rui nodded. They’d both been expecting this. All other options exhausted, the heads of the United Army were finally caving to the inevitable.
Almost. “They want to us to meet at their headquarters.”
Munto flicked his fingers, his expression one of supreme indifference. Rui grinned.
“That’s what I thought. I’ll relay the message.”
X X X
Of course, it couldn’t happen right away. Yumemi, always under guard now, watched from afar as delegates arrived in various vehicles and were ushered into the amphitheater, the large structure some distance from the palace used to house and entertain foreign dignitaries.
From the stream of complaints issuing from its current occupants, she gathered that it’d been even more neglected than the gardens. And small wonder; it was also the place that had triggered her most recent flashback.
Delegates to witness the proceedings; Elders to initiate them. The Elder’s carriers were the grandest vehicles of all. From Munto and Rui’s hushed conversations, she gathered that the Elders had put up a stiff resistance, even threatening not to hold the talks at all. To which Munto replied that they could suit themselves all the way to hell.
She’d laughed at Rui’s expression as he tried to rephrase that into something more diplomatic, better suited for Elder consumption, but the discussions and the slight weariness Munto’s face betrayed during that exchange left her with a feeling of sadness she couldn’t shake. Later that night, when most everyone was asleep, she wandered out into the grounds. The guards followed, she knew, but they were considerate enough to keep out of sight.
It had been a hot day. Maybe that was what drew her back to Ryuely’s pool.
Yumemi. Yumemi.
The water stirred and murmured. But the voices were familiar, and she welcomed them all. “You remember me, don’t you?”
Yumemi.
“I thought so.”
X X X
He listed patiently, waiting until Rui had skimmed through and tactfully summarized every complaint, every howl of injured pride, every demand for concession. Then he dictated replies, making them curt but keeping on the short side of downright rudeness. Rui gracefully supplied whatever diplomacy his answers lacked. Munto knew that his general and right hand had already taken care of the most generic complaints himself.
The onerous job finally done for the day, he waited until Rui was surely two or three halls away before methodically sweeping all the papers off his desk. He watched them crash with grim satisfaction. Then he picked them all up and stacked them neatly on a corner. It was one of his philosophies that people should clean up after themselves.
And not just when it came to objects. He stalked through the hallways, trying unsuccessfully to shed the bad taste dealing with the Elders always left in his mouth. They were people who claimed responsibilities and then abused them when it seemed expedient. The fact that they were purportedly acting in the interests of the collective good instead of out of personal ambition did not excuse their methods, though it seemed to assuage any guilt. Bargaining with their erstwhile scapegoat obviously set ill with them.
He laughed unpleasantly. It had to be uncomfortable to be at the mercy of someone you’d recently tried to murder, much less in the middle of a whole population who had yet to forget an attempt at genocide.
“Lord Munto?”
He was outside, he realized. It was too late to feed the swans, but he’d wanted some cool air to help his mood. A soldier was greeting him.
“How goes it?” he inquired.
“Well, sir. All quiet at the amphitheater and on the grounds.”
“Very good. Carry on.”
The soldier nodded. He was young, younger even than the king. No doubt one of those born after the ban on childbearing was lifted… or rather, ignored. The hope of his parents had been catching, and the fact that they staked their lives on it without ever seeing the results had inspired many to follow their example.
He felt a little better. A kingdom with both old and young people was in better shape than a circle of aged politicians who had yet to admit that all their schemes had failed.
Water was splashing somewhere up ahead. He followed the sound; it was farther than it seemed at first hearing. It was a warm, still night, and the smallest noise carried like a bell. But eventually he tracked it to Ryuely’s pool.
Yumemi sat on the edge, swishing her feet through the water. Her sandals were perched on the brickwork.
Sensing a gaze, she looked up, spotted him and froze. Then she jumped up, tracking wet prints across the ground.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I guess you’re not supposed to cool off in the Pool of Memory, but it was so hot, and I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here, and the water looked so nice -- “
He couldn’t help laughing. She looked so guilty. Her bangs and the collar of her dress were damp, so she’d been splashing her face too.
“Sit down. It’s all right.” He came up beside her and leaned down to run a hand through the pool. She was right; it was cool. “This water’s seen worse.”
She searched his face for traces of anger, then sat back down with a sigh of relief when she found none. She slipped her feet back into the pool.
“The amphitheater is all lit up now.”
He followed her gaze. The amphitheater was on a lower level than the palace grounds, and at this time of night it blazed like a small city. He suspected there were plenty of visitors who had trouble sleeping in his land. “It is, indeed.”
“Looking at it makes me nervous.”
He settled on the edge of the pool next to her, his shoulders making a motion between shrug and sympathy. “I don’t blame you. You’ll work harder there than you ever have in your life.”
Facing hostile Elders, ambivalent diplomats, and skulking operatives like the one who’d mistaken Irita for her? Crowds of people scrutinizing her every word and deed? The thought was already giving her stage fright.
“I have to do it.”
He touched her shoulder. “I’ll be there.”
She chuckled. “You’d better. I’m not setting foot in that place otherwise.”
“And they won’t listen to me without you. We can’t let them separate us.”
She made a small noise. “You think they’ll try?”
“Oh, yes.” He dipped a finger in the water and drew an arc across the pool rim. “One way or another, they’ll try.”
She bit her lip. He drew another arc, sorting through what he needed to say.
“Yumemi.”
“Mm?”
He blew out a contemplative breath and chose his words carefully. “I don’t think they’ll try to take you away again. What I mean is that they will say whatever it takes to turn us against each other.”
Her lips parted in shock.
“I’ve been careful. They don’t have any facts to stand on, but that won’t stop them from contriving something.”
The way he was avoiding her eyes fell into place beside what he wasn’t saying. “You mean --“
“Yeah,” he said shortly, and if the light hadn’t been so uncertain she might have thought he colored. “Be ready for it.”
She choked on that for a while. “You mean, when I thought you were super busy or avoiding me, it was because --“
“I didn’t want to give them anything to throw at you.”
No wonder he’d been so careful to stay away from her room, except the one time Irita had questioned his security priorities. If he’d needed to talk to her, he always sent Ryuely or one of the maids. Though she was pretty sure he checked the locks and windows daily when she was out.
She swished her feet mechanically, trying to adjust the awkward new information that had just been plopped in her lap. The thing was, she could see how it would sound plausible to someone who didn’t know Munto, royalty being what they usually were. She was grateful that he’d given her a chance to process it all now. Being hit with an accusation like that on top of stage fright would probably have been too much for her to handle on the fly.
“Yumemi.”
She faced him with some embarrassment. He didn’t look too comfortable himself.
“Stick with the truth and stay next to me. You’ll be fine.”
“Heh. You haven’t seen me blow my lines at school.”
He dismissed that with a flip of his hand. “That’s irrelevant. When it matters, you always pull through.”
She squirmed. “Thanks. Uh, it must be fun dealing with people who are always out to smear you.”
“Smearing isn’t the point. They’ll do whatever it takes to get their hands on the source of Akuto.”
This conversation was making her more and more self-conscious. “Have you seen anything in this pool?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
He grinned. “You.”
“Oh.” Well, that had backfired. She leaned down and splashed her face.
Yumemi. Yumemi.
Her hands stilled, half in and half out of the water. “Can… can you hear them?”
He could hear something. His eyes were unfocused, looking somewhere beyond the center of the water.
She jumped up as the pool stirred, flailing to keep her balance on the rim. Munto steadied her with a hand under her arm. Even with the advantage of the pool edge, she was barely level with his chin.
Munto. Yumemi.
The water swirled upward into its mirror, and both of them were lost in it.
Munto felt his hand tightening reflexively, afraid Yumemi would slip away into the undulating surface. He saw flashes of scenes he didn’t understand; strange buildings, small people with round ears like hers, the inside of a dark, cavernous space. Strange shapes like the Pillars, but smaller and transparent. And suspended within one of them…
“Yumemi!”
Her eyes were closed as though in sleep, but there was pain on her face. He could hear a whisper of her voice, reaching out to him feebly.
Munto. Help me. Munto…
“Munto!”
He came to with a jolt. She was clutching his shoulders, shaking him. Or trying to. Her size put her at a disadvantage there.
“Yumemi --”
“I’m here.” She was shaking too, he realized. “I’m right here, Munto.”
He raked in a breath and put his hands on her shoulders to reassure himself. She was there. She was real. “What did you see?” he whispered, when his heartbeat had slowed.
Her hands tightened fractionally. “A… a man, a heavenly being. He was really tall and thin. And -- and grey,” she added. “He looked right at me. He’s… scary.”
“Gunther.” So the man was still a threat. Whether working under the Elders or on his own, he was going to be a factor in these talks.
“What did you see?”
Cylinders. Darkness. Pain. Calling him -
He shot her a troubled look, then shook his head. There was no making sense of that jumble. That Yumemi was in danger, he already knew. “I’m not sure.”
Yumemi was awake long before Ryuely tapped on her door the next morning. The purple woman’s elegance made her gasp, amazed all over again. Her dress was like a cloud of pastels.
Ryuely tilted her head with a smile. “You look very nice yourself.”
Yumemi blushed. “Ah, I tried my best.” She’d gotten a maid to help her with her hair; it was as silky and well behaved as two sets of hands could make it, and an iridescent ribbon threaded from the top of her braid to the loose ends at the bottom. Her dress was simple but elegant, an understated creamy white, with matching sandals.
“That’s good.” Ryuely nodded her approval. “Appearances are very important around these people.”
Yumemi blushed again. “And how,” she murmured under her breath, remembering Munto’s warning the night before. Somehow she’d assumed that that kind of gossip lost its power after grade school. Apparently not. The existence of tabloids should have told her that.
“Are you ready, then?”
Yumemi forced a smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Excellent. Follow me.”
Munto was waiting for them in the war chambers, Rui shadowing him with the studied ease of a lifetime of practice. If the Magical King had been out to seduce a girl, Yumemi mused, his target would’ve been in real danger. He was stunningly handsome in his gold and white clothes, though his shock of red hair and the intensity with which he moved hinted at the wildness under that civilized veneer.
He softened when he saw her, his eyes moving in an appreciative once-over.
“You look wonderful,” he said, and it was a personal comment, not an evaluation of how she would look to the Elders.
The words gave her strength. She smiled her thanks and took his offered arm, ready to follow him into the heart of the lion’s den.
X X X
Citizens lined both sides of the road, packed several layers deep both on and above the ground. They jostled between each other’s sides and peered over shoulders, all trying to get a better view of the small procession making its way to the amphitheater. Their encouraging shouts made the sky ring.
“King Munto! Master Rui!”
“Do your best!”
“We’re behind you!”
“Daughter of Destiny!”
Yumemi missed a step. Munto’s arm held her up.
“We’re counting on you!”
She took in the hopeful faces all around, trusting Munto to keep her on the road.
And it struck her that in all her life, before she’d met Munto, she’d never thought or hoped or dreamed that she would do anything remotely important.
“Do your best!”
She smiled then, and it was not a nervous smile, but a smile from the heart.
“I will,” she called, waving back at the sea of people. All of them, counting on her and the lean man beside her. “I promise.”
X X X
There were no gates to the amphitheater. Anyone could walk in or out. Munto, Ryuely’d told her, had insisted on an open session. The Elders, predictably, had complained.
“It does make it easier for them to fling public accusations, but at the same time they’ll have to watch what they say.”
That had been Rui’s assessment. Yumemi wasn’t sure if that made her job harder or easier. But one thing was clear: Munto didn’t want the proceedings hidden from his people. From them, he had nothing to hide.
Well, nor did she. She took a deep breath as they passed under the entrance and out into the great open space that was the center of the amphitheater.
Oh, heavens. Thousands of people, like the hordes that descended on sports stadiums at home, seething like ants over the tiers of seats and the spoke-like walkways. Except for instead of concentrating on a sports match, they were all magnetized by her.
A sense of unreality crept in, as though her consciousness were floating away to hover just over her body. It was like standing on the edge. It was like living in the sky. It was so much more massive in scale than a silly school play that she almost couldn’t take it in.
Looking. At. Her.
In front of that enormous cloud, Munto removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders. She started to protest, but Ryuely gestured for her to accept it.
“It means you’re under his protection.”
Oh.
Munto slipped his right hand over his left elbow to press her fingers. The warm touch brought her to earth again. She sucked in a breath and tightened her grip on his arm, both as a signal that she was all right and as a precaution against tripping and falling on her face.
Watch me, Suzume. I’ll outdo you in front of a whole country.
Munto steered her towards a round dais in the center of the amphitheater. As they mounted the steps, she saw that it was already occupied by several older men and their retinues, plus multiple delegates sporting clothing that signaled several countries of origin.
And apparently, they had floating chairs.
She missed a step. Munto held her up.
You might have mentioned that.
He shrugged. I forgot.
She wasn’t sure if she heard the words or imagined them.
Munto took his place at the section of the dais nearest the palace, Yumemi beside him. Rui hovered nearby like a napping shark, and Ryuely stood beside the general, watching everyone. A little boy named Toche attended her.
“We would open the talks now,” an Elder began almost before they were settled.
“We begin when I say we begin,” Munto retorted.
That, Yumemi perceived, was why the Magical Kingdom’s procession hadn’t set out earlier, despite several peremptory-sounding messages from the Elders; Munto wanted to make the point that he was not at their beck and call. By refusing to open negotiations on their demand, he likewise maintained control of the proceedings.
She suppressed an urge to rub her temples. There was no doubt that he was good at the game, but all the jockeying and unspoken rules were giving her a headache.
Yumemi heard the click of boots from the opposite end of the dais. Leica and Gus appeared, orbited by Irita.
An Elder rocked in his chair. “This is no place for children!”
Munto silenced him with a look. “I invite who I please.”
Leica ignored the exchange. “I am here at your request, King Munto.”
“As am I,” Gus echoed.
Munto nodded to the trio. “Then let us begin.”
Two Elder opened their mouths, but Rui beat them to it.
“The Magical King presents the Daughter of Destiny, the Lady Yumemi, whom he brought from the world of death,” he cried in his surprisingly strong, clear voice. “Let all who see bear witness that his vision saved our sky.”
Every sandal scrape and rustle of clothing echoed from the dais to the farthest reaches of the amphitheater, so exquisite were its acoustics. Rui’s voice rang like a cymbal.
There were murmurs of disbelief from the delegates.
“She’s just a child!”
“How can such power belong to one so small?”
“Her ears -- her ears are --“
Yumemi held herself still with an effort, but she felt herself blushing. She’d deliberately left her ears bare as indisputable evidence of her underworld origin. Now, she wondered if that had been such a good idea.
The Elders, she noticed, weren’t murmuring in disbelief. Their reaction sounded more like grumbles.
“She’s a pawn for his game.”
“A trinket to warm --“
“Why should Munto have seen her?”
“You will address our ruler as King Munto,” Rui said sharply.
“We demand that this child be handed over to the protection of the Heads.”
Yumemi stiffened. Munto raised his right hand lazily, and the table before that Elder’s group turned to smoking ash.
Silence descended, broken by a few appreciative claps from the outer seats. She almost smiled. The Magical citizens didn’t seem any more open to the idea of giving her up than their king was.
Rui took it upon himself to formalize Munto’s answer. “The Lady Yumemi will remain under the protection of King Munto and his citizens.”
“Protection?”
The dark voice seemed to roll over the dais. “What protection? She’s doing what he forces her to.”
A very tall, thin man emerged from within the cluster of Elders. It wasn’t clear whether he’d been there all the time or had just arrived, but his presence made Yumemi’s hair stand on end.
Munto wasn’t thrilled to see him either. There were rumors that Gunther had undergone full-body replacement and was in fact an Akuto ghost, but Munto didn’t believe it. The man was too fixated on the usual interests of flesh and blood. Like controlling the source of Akuto.
“The Lady Yumemi --“ Rui broke off and dropped into his normal voice. “Yumemi? Where are you?”
Green eyes peeped cautiously from behind the Magical King. Her hands were clutching the back of his vest. With an effort, Munto kept his expression neutral.
“See?” Gunther raised a long, accusing finger. “She’s scared to death of him!”
“You’re the one who frightens me,” Yumemi murmured.
She’d forgotten that her unstudied answer would carry to every ear in the building. Laughter rippled through the crowd. Even the delegates hid smiles; apparently, Yumemi wasn’t the only one who found the Commander intimidating.
Gunther harrumphed. “You’re here because Munto made you to come.”
“That’s not true.” Yumemi shot out in front of Munto, her fear forgotten. “I came with King Munto of my own free will.”
“He threatened you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her voice was heated. “I had to beg him to bring me.”
“Why on earth would you choose to help a criminal?”
Her finger jabbed at him in turn. She forgot that the world was watching. This was between her and Gunther. “You’re the criminal!”
“You little fool.” Gunther smiled shrewdly, sensing a weakness in her defense. “You’re only saying that because you’re in love with him.”
Yumemi froze. She’d been expecting accusations of a more, well, carnal nature. Behind her, she sensed Munto stiffen. Guess he didn’t see that coming either.
Yumemi cocked her head, then swept her fingers through the air as though brushing the Commander’s assertion aside. There was a low, circular table running through the inner part of the dais, excepting the section Munto had so recently put to other uses; she stepped up onto it, feeling the need for some extra height.
“If you mean that I’m helping Munto only because I care about him, you’ve got it backwards.” She planted her feet a little farther apart and swept the crowd with her eyes. Her fists were clenched, but her voice was even. She raised it now.
Let the whole world hear what she thought of the Magical King.
“It’s true that Munto is an important person to me. But that’s not why I’m here.” She raised her chin. “Munto told me the truth from the very beginning, even when I didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t force me or try to bribe me. Before I did anything for him, he protected me.”
“Protect?” Gunther snorted. “He dragged you into a war.”
“You brought war home to me.” She wheeled on Gunther, pointing accusingly. “You would have dropped this island on my land. When that didn’t work, you tried to rip up my city and me with it. You killed people, and all of you -- “ her gaze raked the Elders -- “supported him!” Her voice broke, remembering, disbelief struggling with grief.
“We did what was necessary,” an Elder harrumphed. “The best for the most.”
“And you always will.” She nodded, in control of herself again. “You’ll lie, steal and murder to get your way. That’s why I won’t go with you. If you want my help, ask Munto. I work for him.”
She stepped off the table as the delegates started arguing and the crowd erupted into cheers. “Can we go, King Munto?” she asked, her voice small again.
“Call me Munto," he grumbled. He offered an arm, which she took.
“Where are you going?” an Elder cried. “The meeting isn’t over yet!”
Munto raised a hand, and the Elder flinched.
“I have nothing more to say to you.”
Munto led his charge out of the amphitheater. Rui looked after them approvingly, his ears taking in the discord around him and filing it away for his future report.
“I think she upset them,” Ryuely observed dryly.
Rui smirked. “She may look like a child, but she spoke like a queen.”
X X X
She held out until they got inside the palace. Then reaction set in and her legs gave out. She would have sat down right there if Munto hadn’t scooped her up.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she wavered, “after all your talk about being careful.” She squirmed. “Besides, it’s just nerves. Put me down.”
Munto assessed her dubiously, then let her test her balance. She almost fell.
“I don’t think so.” He picked her up again and headed for the sunroom.
“I can walk!”
“You don’t want me to hold you.”
“That’s not it,” she stammered.
“It’s what Gunther said.”
Gunther had said plenty, but they both knew what he meant. She turned crimson.
He cocked his head. “Is it true?”
“If you don’t put me down, I’ll hit you.”
He laughed, and suddenly the walls tilted crazily around them. She squealed as the light blurred like television static and then rearranged itself into the breakfast sunroom.
“Hanabi! Anita!” he called, depositing Yumemi in her usual chair. “Some food for the lady.”
Two maids appeared, nodded, and vanished.
“Warn me next time!” She was still dizzy. She’d seen the Magical beings port many times now, but this was the first time she’d been along for the ride.
Munto handed her a napkin. “They’ll bring something good.”
“Is that your cure for everything? Distract me with food?”
“Don’t be like that. I’ll split it with you.”
She was too shocked to argue.
X X X
Her surprise was nothing to Rui’s. The general bounced in with a huge bundle of rolls under one arm, caught sight of his king helping himself to a serving of the same food steaming in front of Yumemi, and dropped his reports all over the floor.
“Well?” Munto inquired blandly. “How did it go?”
“Munto. You -- you’re --“
“Report, Rui.”
“Sir!” Rui scraped himself together. “The Elders are still arguing amongst themselves and protesting that the source of Akuto should go with them, but it’s mostly hot air. Everyone heard what Yumemi said, and the delegates seem to think that their best bet is supporting you.”
“Very good. And Rui?”
“Hm?”
“Pick up that mess.”
Rui’s lip twitched. “Right away.”
X X X
Ryuely returned soon after with Toche in tow, and Gus dropped by briefly with Irita and Leica. Yumemi wondered how the Endan general had found her way to the sunroom. A maid, probably.
“The lady spoke well,” Leica remarked, inclining her head to Yumemi.
Yumemi blushed. She felt more like she’d just lost her temper. “I had no idea what I was getting into.”
“That might have been best. Studied answers carry less truth.”
Munto smirked. Yumemi ducked her head and blushed harder.
“What will the Elders do now?” she stammered, as much to change the subject as out of a need to know.
“Nothing, probably.” Gus was looking out the windows at the amphitheater. She wondered how much he could make out from here. “They’ll be watching for a while now, waiting to see if Munto can restore the Akuto flow as he promised.”
“Oh. That’s right,” Yumemi murmured. Amid all the excitement, she’d forgotten about that. “We have to make it permanent.”
“It may be difficult for you,” Ryuely observed.
Yumemi laughed shakily. “Worse than facing the Commander?”
“You showed him, all right!” Irita bounced by and smacked her on the shoulder, making her drop her pastry. “He’s spooky. I don’t like him.”
“Still, you should speak of him with respect,” Toche murmured. He wasn’t sure what to make of Irita’s offhand attitude.
“Respect, schmect! Spooky is spooky.”
“No kidding.” Yumemi rubbed her arms as though chilled.
“Tomorrow.” It was Munto who spoke.
“Hmm?” Everyone in the room turned, but it was Yumemi he looking at.
“We’ll stabilize the flow tomorrow.”
The night wind whipped through her hair, chilling her. The flow was still whirling, but it seemed dimmer than she remembered.
“Big,” she murmured. “It’s so big.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. Yesterday, the triumph of the talks still upon them, she’d felt sure she could handle this stabilization business, whatever it was. Now, confronted with the scale of their task, she wasn’t so sure.
“Here.” Munto offered his cloak.
She declined with a shake of her head. It wasn’t that chilly… and she didn’t want to feed the rumors already flying around, fed by misquotes and distortions of what she’d said in the amphitheater. Besides, the whole kingdom and plenty of foreigners were gathered around this part of the island and out in the sky in their vehicles, watching, scrutinizing her every move. They’d come to see their Akuto made sure, not another example of why the Daughter of Destiny couldn’t do anything without Munto’s help.
“Yumemi.”
Munto, cloak outstretched, hadn’t budged. “I haven’t changed since the talks.”
“I know that.”
“Then don’t push me away.”
He caught her gaze and held it meaningfully.
She juried a brief internal struggle. On the one hand, rumors were still growing. People were still watching.
On the other hand, Munto was right; he hadn’t changed. Whether it was just the two of them present, or whether thousands of people stood witness, he was protecting her as he always had. Whatever anybody else thought, they were important to each other -- and he, at least, didn’t care who knew.
It was time to decide what she valued most.
I’m sorry.
“I am kind of cold,” she whispered.
His face relaxed. He draped the cloak around her shoulders. She felt warmer instantly.
“Munto.”
He raised his brows questioningly.
She forced herself to speak clearly. Let them hear.
“Can you please fasten it for me, too? My fingers are a little stiff.”
He smiled and obliged, joining the metal hooks with practiced ease. Then he stepped back.
“Yumemi!”
She jumped as his voice rang out over land and sky, the voice of a king. His tone was half plea, half demand. He stretched out his hand. “Share your strength with me!”
Tears blurred her vision as she laid her fingers across his palm. She smiled with everything that was in her. “Gladly.”
X X X
“It’s time,” Gus said.
Irita popped over the railing. Technically, they didn’t need to stand on Leica’s hoversail, but it was friendly territory. And this was a show meant to watch with somebody.
“We’ll never see something like this again,” Leica murmured.
“They’re holding hands!” Irita crowed. “Gus is right.”
“Hmph. Of course I’m right.”
Clothed in white, the Daughter of Destiny looked like a ghost. Her hair almost glowed in the moonlight. The Magical King’s cloak flapped around her shoulders, lending drama to the already charged scene. Every foot of land within sight swarmed with wellwishers, and the sky was dotted with foreign craft. All watched with bated breaths.
The return of Akuto - precious Akuto, abundant Akuto, enough to nurture generations of heavenly beings yet unborn - seemed almost too good to hope for. And yet, no one could forget the twin bursts of impossible brilliance that Munto had set off in the land of death.
Now the source of that brilliance stood before them all. And she looked like a helpless child.
“If it weren’t for Munto, she’d blow away,” Irita observed.
The Magical King and his companion reached the edge. Munto hefted the ground dweller easily and soared into the center of the Akuto flow.
X X X
Yumemi took a deep breath. “Let’s finish this.”
“Yes.”
He shifted her weight to free a hand. She tightened her grip on his shoulders to offer hers.
“Munto?”
“Mm?”
“Don’t drop me.”
“Pfft. Have I ever?”
“There’s always a first time…”
“Trust me.”
She twined her fingers in his. “I do.”
Outsider power blossomed from their hands, closely followed by ribbons of brilliant Akuto. A collective murmer swept across the sky.
She was indeed the Daughter of Destiny.
Fed by her strength, the glyphs of time sprang outward, burrowing into the walls of the flow. Yumemi closed her eyes against the brilliance and found that she could follow Munto’s lead more easily that way. Her breathing steadied as she fell into step with his rhythm, chasing his power across the sky.
It was a dance. She no longer felt any difference between her power and herself. She was the threads of living gold, racing through the great spiral aside Munto’s dark and scarlet. Time to cement the walls of the path; Akuto to make it strong.
Time? She could stay here forever. The wind sang around her, thrumming with energy; she laughed, for once in her life unafraid.
The call heightened and she pushed back, pouring herself into the task as though nothing else mattered. She felt herself tiring but held firm, sternly fixing her mind on the presence hurtling downward beside her.
With him. Stay with him.
He sped up, as always asking just short of the impossible. She answered, tapping into reserves she didn’t know she had, falling like a star trusting itself to the night.
And just when she didn’t think she could take the burning in her lungs any more, they were there. He hit the ground of the underworld -- strange, she was coming to think of it that way too -- scattering shockwaves like a radial tsunami, and then opened his arms to her.
She smacked into him like a runaway boulder, but that was okay. He could take it.
X X X
Is it over?
“Yumemi.”
Did I…
A faint sensation, as though someone was jogging her shoulder in a dream. “Yumemi.”
Munto. Where’s Munto?
“I’m right here, Yumemi! Wake up.”
She crawled to the edge of consciousness. “Munto? How long…”
“Just a few minutes.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Oh!”
She wasn’t in a princess hold anymore; his arms were around her waist, hers draped across his shoulders, just as they’d been when she’d plastered him. The stars twinkled around them. But they seemed… fainter. Almost as if…
“Look,” he urged, his voice full of excitement. “Yumemi, look!”
She peeled her face off his shoulder, tired beyond thought, and twisted around to follow his gaze.
“The flow… it’s…”
It wasn’t a patch on bursts of Akuto that’d been pent up for centuries, but it was much brighter than before, glowing like a huge nightlight. No wonder the stars were dim. The spin seemed faster too.
Across the darkness, she could hear claps and cheers and whistles. It was as though the stars were applauding.
“It’s stable,” Munto confirmed. His voice was shaking; he was tired too. “The cycle has been restored.”
“I’m so glad,” she whispered, and fell asleep.
She woke to sunrise. For once. Everything important had been happening at night lately, from Irita’s kidnapping to stabilizing the Akuto flow.
The flow! She kicked her blankets aside and ran to the window. The sun was coming up in the east, but the flow was on the other side of the sky, and maybe --
There. She spotted it, still glowing faintly in the dawn.
It hadn’t been a dream. They really had done it. She pumped a fist in the air.
“Yes!”
Her muscles protested.
“Ow, ow, ow.” Apparently, fixing an ancient break in the Akuto cycle was more than one could recover from in one night. Besides, she’d never been good at moving fast early in the morning. Unless she was late for school.
School.
An ache spread across her chest. Now that the flow was fixed, her job here was done. Sooner or later, she’d have to…
“Munto,” she whispered.
X X X
She bathed and changed, then found her own way to the breakfast sunroom. No one had come to get her, so they’d probably decided not to disturb her until she woke on her own.
Munto was there. He jumped to his feet when she walked in, came to her and took her hands. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Um…” She tried to pull a hand free to rub the back of her head, but he wouldn’t let go. “I’m a little drained, but okay. You?”
“Keh.” He brushed that off. “That was nothing.”
“Oh, shut up.” She slumped into a chair.
He grinned and pushed a plate in her direction. He had one too, she noticed.
“Eat,” he ordered.
Whatever it was, it smelled good. For once, she didn’t argue.
X X X
“You’re really going to let her go?”
Munto concentrated on the report in front of him. There seemed to be a mountain of them needing his attention, piled all over the war chambers. Reactions to the stabilized flow had been many and varied, but at least nobody was trying to argue that it was a bad thing. “You know I can’t force her to stay.”
“She just got here,” Rui said plaintively. “I don’t want her to leave.”
Munto shot him a challenging look, not sure how much to read into that. Rui waved his hands defensively.
“I’m not talking about me, you idiot. I think she would stay if you asked her to. And you’re easier to live with when she’s here.”
The king’s expression tightened. “She made a promise,” he said softly. “She has to go back.”
Rui smacked the table impatiently. “Fine, she goes back. If she goes back, she can come back. Can’t she?”
He stalked to the door.
“Rui!”
Rui threw him an exasperated look. “Stop punishing yourself,” he said, and left.
X X X
“Yumemi.”
She stirred. “Not yet, Mom,” she murmured. “I don’t want to go to school.”
He cracked a smile and patted her shoulder. “Come on. Wake up.”
She rubbed her eyes reluctantly. “Air smells strange… Oh!”
She bolted upright, almost conking her head on his chin. They were on the roof of the house opposite hers.
“We’re here,” he said quietly.
She stared at her house, a wave of emotion sweeping through her insides. Home and yet not-home, the place she’d come from, the place she’d known she would have to return to -
There had been a farewell party, of course, but she hadn’t enjoyed it. How could she? Ryuely had been serious, Rui dejected, Munto unreadable between hints of misery.
“We’ll miss you,” they’d all said. Well, except for Munto.
She’d miss them too. Terribly.
They landed on the grass, silent as moonlight. She made a fuss of smoothing her dress, not ready to go in. She hoped the alarm wasn’t on…
She sensed rather than heard him lift again. “Munto! You’re not leaving already?”
He paused, but didn’t come down. “I don’t belong here,” he said simply.
I don’t --
“But -- will I see you again?” She caught his ankle, heard her voice rising. “We’re friends! Friends should see each other again.”
He didn’t answer.
“Ah…” She let go and stepped back, hurt piercing her chest. Idiot. “I forgot. Akuto has returned to the heavens, right?” She forced a smile. “You don’t need me anymore.”
She ran towards the house. She couldn’t wait to get inside.
“Yumemi.”
If his voice hadn’t stopped her, the healthy grip on her wrist would have. She tugged, unsuccessfully.
“Go shopping,” he said softly. “Get your paycheck. Buy cute T-shirts at your Internet stores.”
She felt tears burning her eyes, but to wipe them would be to give them away. “Just go.”
He went on as though she hadn’t spoken. “And when you’ve done all those things… come back to me.”
Her mind went blank.
He turned her round, touched her damp cheek. “Promise me.”
She raised her pinky wordlessly. Images flickered through his mind; promises made, remembered, honored. The unfamiliar gesture felt natural, as though he’d grown up with it.
“It’s a promise, then.”
“I promise.” What was she saying?
She considered, and found that she meant every word.
She moved as though to hug him, but he shook his head. “If you do,” he said meaningfully, “I’ll take you back right now.”
Instead he leaned down and brushed her lips, the gentlest first kiss in the world.
Her mind went blank for the second time in three minutes. Then he was gone, hurtling into the sky.
Her sky.
“I promise,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She couldn’t wait.
-The End
DISCLAIMER: You know it! This story not created, acknowledged or endorsed by Kyoto Animation or Yoshiji Kigami, to whom all relevant characters and trademarks belong. No infringement is intended and absolutely no profit was or ever will be made. King of Dreams itself is fan domain and may be freely recopied and archived. No heavy critique, please -- it is what it is -- but reader reactions are appreciated, as always.