Daniel
Not just a house.
Rather, a grand mansion with exotic architecture, its dominant feature a large, curved roof overhanging the walls like a wide-brimmed hat. Generously sloping eaves with interlocking clay tiles covered a short flight of steps promising safe and easy passage. At the top of the stairs, a pair of broad wooden lattice double doors stood sentry.
“It’s beautiful,” Kenta said. Daniel had to admit the architect had style in spades.
The doors’ translucent paper screens bathed the threshold in warm light. Lanterns sculpted from stalagmites illuminated the cobblestones leading into the house and beckoned them on. As they stepped through the gateway, Daniel felt a soothing and pleasant aura wash over them. A dozen strings of beads dangled from the lintel above. More Enchantments? Unclear.
Tarō slipped off Cassie, shifted into his straw-sandal form, and raced ahead of them. The doors slid open as the boy approached.
Following Tarō had steered them right thus far, so Daniel didn’t object as they climbed the stairs and entered the building. Daniel expected to see the beams and lintels supporting the tall roof inside; instead, he found a low, flat ceiling and an elegant, minimalistic reception area. Paper and wood sliding panels surrounded them.
No doors in sight, though every section of the modular walls seemed mobile. Diffuse light from the rooms beyond made the canvases of the paper walls glow with rich colors. Each panel of the inner walls was an elaborate stylized painting depicting warriors fighting battles with dozens of unknown races and some familiar ones.
Seven tableaus featured most prominent. Troops of scarecrow Tsukumogami shot railroad spike crossbows at an enormous, grotesque-faced bat drooling blood from its fangs. A sinister towering streetlamp with arms and legs but no face crouched above a tiny yet heroically framed, guitar-bodied warrior deflecting the streetlamp’s laser with a grinning hand mirror. Mammoth black orbs crushed dozens of people while a man with warped human features laughed, unaware of a leaping figure—body a knotted string of beads—who held a pitchfork poised to strike.
On the opposite wall, a banjo-headed man held a paper lantern and a stoppered ceramic bottle as fearsome talismans against a fleeing newt with orange skin, bulging eyes bloodshot in anger, and a disturbing wide-mouthed grimace. A humanoid shape of strange, interlocked masks with exaggerated features, long noses, dangly earlobes, heavy eyebrows, and fat lips swung a paper folding fan at a fang-toothed screaming decapitated head—its marathon-length hair blown straight back. Next, a hideous being with a man/goat face, swollen arms distended with muscle, red skin, and a shark tail scattered the people of a helpless village.
Above the Capricorn, a grandfather clock with the arms, legs, and figure of a woman sailed on the breeze with a red oil-paper umbrella in one hand and a harplike instrument in the other emanating musical notes. Strings from the harp wrapped tight around the arms of the Capricorn, releasing gouts of blood from cut flesh and restraining the monster’s upraised fists from crushing more scurrying people. Yet, one of the Caprid’s horns scraped the underbelly of the wooden harp, leaving a gash.
Between these six panels, a scene from epic literature took center stage. Thousands of people of all ages with faces twisted by fear and pain in their final moments lay beneath the black robes of a cloaked figure. Its vast skeletal wings dominated half the screen, and its burning red eyes shone beneath its hood with singular consuming malice. In hands of white bone, it held a terrible dark scythe—the sight of which turned Daniel’s blood to ice.
He’d seen that scythe before in his mother’s hands.
Opposing the dread figure hovered a man wearing sandals and a billowing waist sash. A hundred hands surrounded him in multiple concentric circles as he wielded an impressive set of twelve tools: a ceramic bottle, a wooden clock, prayer beads, an ugly mask, a blue lantern, a paper fan, a nine-toothed comb, a balance scale, a war hammer, a hunter’s bow, an axe, and the same wooden harp from the other mural highlighted above the others. From how the tableau depicted the scene, the two sides seemed evenly matched.
The choice of decoration communicated a clear message, ‘We know what you are, and we are not afraid.’
Daniel suddenly felt very uneasy about this place, but they had nowhere else to go. Kenta and Lea removed their shoes on a stairstep with several dozen other wooden sandals of varying quality. Daniel had slippers but didn’t intend to set foot here and Ruin the interior. Organized rectangular mats of woven rice straw covered the floor.
As the seven of them followed Tarō into the room and onto the mats, Paul stopped at the threshold and looked down. His mental whisper reached Daniel alone, :I’m sorry, I’m too late again. They’re alive; everything is alive!:
Before Daniel could interpret Paul’s message, the lanterns extinguished in unison. Thankfully, they had the light from Paul’s visor, and the Aurvandil Kenta held—until paper screens rose from the floor to separate them.
His Second Sight worked fine in the dark, but his shifting surroundings were too jumbled and confused to find his friends in the chaos of the house. Daniel heard sounds of struggling but dared not shoot through the screens without a clear target. The hairs on his neck rose as a voice behind him and Wendi said, “Don’t move. I know y’all are tough, but I doubt even you two can survive twelve inches of Sanctified Steel to the skull.”
Daniel’s Second Sight saw the aura of a railroad spike crossbow pressed against Wendi’s head. While Daniel and Wendi had both survived bullets, he couldn’t resist sustained fire and hadn’t tested himself on higher caliber rounds. So, he tended to agree with the man pointing the crossbow’s twin at his head as if they were dual pistols.
The wielder was an anthropomorphized rubber mallet with a flat face, bald head, and a chin rough from wear like a five-o’clock shadow.
He and Wendi didn’t budge as a string of wooden prayer beads snaked around their arms and necks, tying her and Daniel together. The beads radiated a serene aura that resisted even Daniel’s Ruinous touch!
Short seconds later, all struggling ceased, and the lanterns relit themselves. The partitioning paper screens receded to reveal his five subdued friends. Cassie’s wings and legs were bound by six twisted rubber bands thick as her wrists; a handkerchief gagged her. One of the woven straw sandals from the line of shoes had grown into a scarecrow with a massive steel nutcracker around Paul’s armored body as if the boy were an almond.
Lea lay limp on the mats with a bolt of cotton wrapped tight around her face and neck, all eight caramboles scattered on the ground as black marbles. Kenta held still, made vulnerable by a dozen human-sized hairpins parting his mane into easily contained sections. The pins were individually wielded by animated rice straw mats who’d risen from the floor, their hands and faces previously hidden. A thirteenth straw mat held a huge staple gun to Kenta’s face, finger on the trigger, with the metal points trained on the boy’s eyes.
He couldn’t see Rana, but her silhouette appeared on the wall of a screened box. Paper lantern people surrounded the girl in the box, and the holes she’d punched in the walls were closing after her surrender. Rana stood with her arms at her sides, and the six walls shifted into rolls of cotton that wrapped loosely around her throat but held her arms tight and tied her ankles to her thighs—forcing her to kneel, unable to jump. The lanterns’ spotlight on her unavoidably attracted Daniel’s attention despite her Camouflage.
This was it. They’d all been captured, their weaknesses targeted, and their strengths neutralized. No doubt their opponents saw them coming and laid this trap.
Tarō broke free of someone’s grasp and rushed forward to exclaim, “Don’t hurt them!”
The hammerhead with the crossbows behind Daniel and Wendi replied, “That’s not for you to say, boy.”
Tarō approached Cassie next, anxious and guilty. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! I’ll get you all out of this, I promise.”
Cassie looked up at the kid. :I believe in you, Tarō.: She hid the sending hidden from their captors. Why hadn’t Cassie seen this coming, or Paul predicted this path was dangerous? :Don’t lose heart.:
The rice straw mats beneath them moved, the kids’ weight no trouble for the disguised Tsukumogami. The tableau screens slid apart to reveal a corridor. Eight kids rode rafts on a river flowing deeper into the house. The hall ended in more screen doors that parted to reveal a progression of expanding rooms and more rooms beyond, all lined with rice mats, all bordered by paper screens with unique paintings depicting too many scenes for Daniel to absorb, all backlit by lanterns in every direction.
He understood. They were being shown the strength of the place they’d entered.
There were thousands here. Perhaps tens of thousands.
At last, they reached a chamber where three people sat opposite them on cushions, kneeling on their heels. Daniel’s eye focused on the man in the middle with wooden ‘flesh’ of faded lacquer luster and an ivory inlay design of falling flower petals. He was narrow, tall, and straight-backed, reminding Daniel of a musical instrument with his elegant features and bearing.
He’d tamed his mane of twisted silk string into a grey-haired topknot. He wore a stunning full-length white and blue robe, the golden emblem of an untranslated written character over his heart. The robe opened at the chest to expose the tip of a horrendous scar wet with sap. Recognition shook Daniel as he realized this man was the wooden harp from the two tableau scenes of the Capricorn and the winged figure in the dark cloak.
Beside the man on the pillow lay a crooked cane and a pair of wooden sandals. Tucked into his sash, he kept a folded fan, a scroll case, a stoppered bottle, and a pocket mirror. An exquisite little wooden box dangled from a beaded cord attached to the sash. From what he’d already seen, Daniel wagered these ‘items’ were attendants or even personal guards. These details weren’t anomalous among the Tsukumogami, but something about this man demanded Daniel’s attention.
It was the confidence in his eyes, the strength of will that saturated his posture, and the awe in every face which looked to him—they’d follow him anywhere, fight any foe, and gladly die at his word. Without speaking, this man displayed the bearing of a king born of long years, enormous setbacks, and hard-won victories, but more vividly than Daniel imagined possible. Daniel had met human generals and leaders and influential people, but none matched this man in sheer presence.
The scars and signs of age didn’t wear him thin; they were the pillars of his authority. They made him more real, so solidly there one couldn’t imagine the scene without him. He didn’t inhabit this house; he bore it on his back, supporting it with his life and breath. Daniel could believe this man had won a staring contest with a rock or that he’d walked through a concrete wall without breaking stride. Ordinary objects and materials lost their substance beside him as weak tea beside molasses. This being was ancient in an anthropological sense and had doubtlessly commanded his people for millennia.
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Daniel, in his ignorance, couldn’t say who’d win in a fight with Red Tail—but he knew for a fact that yellow coward would turn tail and flee at first sight of this man. Daniel knew this must be what those in the Wilderness call a god.
:Koto Furunushi,: Tarō sent with reverence.
:Must be a member of the Lesser Pantheon,: Rana confirmed.
Koto’s companions had a similar air of authority to a lesser extent. On his right sat the banjo-headed man from the tableau. He wore fine robes over a thin body of light wood; his navel and forehead connected by three strings he idly plunked as he pondered.
:Shami-chōrō, the shamisen virtuoso,: Tarō continued.
On Koto’s left sat an ornately robed woman of rich brown wood, almost red, taking humanoid form with a short-necked lute for a face. Her mouth was the bridge, the strings attached to her upper lip, and her drowsy eyes peaked from decorative crescents. The lute neck jutted up and back as a fashionable hairstyle.
:And minstrel Biwa-bokuboku.:
These three examined a floor-to-ceiling projection of Daniel’s group walking through the tunnels as if reviewing security camera recordings. Yes, they’d been watched the whole time.
“Oh, my, my, my, such a mess,” Biwa said as she waved an elaborate paper fan. “What shall we do?”
“Couldn’t we save ourselves the headache and kill the lot of them?” Shami asked.
Koto shook his head. “The boy declared them guests. We cannot execute them without a crime.” He turned to Tarō and asked in a tone of fathomless gravitas, “I assume you invited them in for a reason?”
“Yes, sir, at your service, sir,” Tarō quivered beneath the eyes of his god. “They saved my life, sir.”
“It’s not the Wildlings that concern me; it’s the dogs at our door,” Shami clarified as he flicked a finger at the screen to change the view to the outside. By a pile of rock that must have been the entrance to the tunnels, Tesem and the Nephilim had set camp.
“Killing them won’t do any good,” Biwa pointed to the Shew Stones on the clasps of the mages’ black-cape collars. “Whatever they see, their guild sees, and you can bet the whole City knows within the hour. Not such a secret entrance anymore, is it? Hmm, hmm, hmm, news like that sells fast.”
Tarō was horrified. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”
Shami ignored the boy. “At least a good, old-fashioned fight to the death would make me feel better. We’ll have to collapse the tunnel and dig a new one no matter what.”
“We’re not killing anyone,” Koto said. “The mages know where we are, but not what we are. If they learn that, a hundred thousand mages will come looking for a new pair of shoes—but, until then, no one will dare attempt to raid us. We wait until the mages leave so as to not confirm anyone lives here. There is time to resolve the issue of the boy. Speak, child.”
Not lacking courage, Tarō explained as best he could, “I was attacked by a beast on the surface, and they rescued me.”
Koto turned to his ‘guests’ with placid patience. “Why did a Libra, a Kaminoke, a Caprid, a Nightwatcher, a Chiropteran, a Batrachian, and an Angel of Ruin save a Tsukumogami?” he asked, genuinely puzzled, though it sounded to Daniel like the setup for a ridiculously complicated joke.
Before any of the others could speak, Cassie took responsibility. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”
Silence from the god and his court.
Without any disturbance of his expression, Koto returned his gaze to Tarō and asked, “Why did you invite these Wildlings into our home and their enemies to our door?”
The boy’s words sounded pathetic as he said, “They saved me, and they were in trouble. I wanted to help them.”
“Stupid,” Shami said.
Murmurs rose from every corner of the room as Biwa shook her head and added a mock prayer, “Save us from the good intentions of children.”
The boy looked on the verge of tears, repeating, “They saved me.”
“From the danger you put yourself in,” Koto countered, cornering Tarō. “Are you aware of the crime you committed?”
Tarō nodded. “It’s against the law to open the door to the outside without permission.”
“Are you aware of the punishment for this crime?”
Nodding again, more confident this time. “One hundred years community service, sir. I’m proud to be at your service!”
“Proud!” Biwa exclaimed. “Proud? I’ll see to it you spend that entire time as a tatami in the dustiest, most isolated corner of—”
“—One thing has bothered me since the beginning of all this,” Koto interrupted. “How did the boy get past the Watch?”
Suddenly, the guards holding Daniel and his friends were in hot water. One of the lanterns around Rana spoke, “Kouki Chōchin, at your service, sir. It was around time for our change of shift, and we were milling about all friendly as usual. Then a lantern rolls up to take my place, and, sure, he’s a bit young, but he had the form right, and what reason had I not to believe he was part of the Watch? A real go-getter. So, I-I let him take position.”
“Irresponsible,” Shami said.
“An oversight,” Koto amended with a handwave. “Made possible by discipline gone lax. I shall have words with the commander of the Watch.” The lantern man didn’t know whether to be relieved or more worried.
“So, the boy can take chōchin form,” Biwa said. “This changes nothing.”
Yet Koto wasn’t through, “No, the boy must have taken the form of an instrument to open and close the door. The Taotie guardian will not respond to the tune if sung; I set the parameters myself. Show us.”
Reluctant, Tarō shifted one arm into a form like a square, three-stringed banjo—which must be what they called a shamisen. Shami-chōrō stared in astonishment and said, “There it is… and at his age. I was three hundred when my years of meditation finally paid off.”
“Let the boy’s parents step forward,” Koto said.
One of the rice straw mats nearby stood in man-shape as one of the paper screens took woman-shape, and both came to Tarō’s side. The boy didn’t meet his parents’ eyes as they placed their hands on his shoulders. ““At your service, sir,”” they said together.
“Were you aware your son was capable of taking shamisen form?” Koto asked.
“Yes, sir,” the father answered. “And we knew that qualified him for training in statesmanship.”
Daniel blinked in surprise, as that was about all he dared do with a crossbow trained on the base of his spine. Then, it dawned on him what the three officials had in common—they were all musical instruments. Was it a status symbol or something about that form’s magic?
The mother chimed in, “He would’ve auditioned in the fall to start his formal education early.”
Tarō wrestled free of his parents’ grasp and whirled to face them. “I never wanted that! I told you I wanted to join the Watch, to train as a guard, to defend people and see the outside and do the name of the Tsukumogami proud. I have the talent. I can do it!—But not from an office. Not from a desk.”
“There’s one more thing I’d like clarified,” Koto said. “Even from a prime position among the Watch and a convenient distraction, the boy should’ve never been able to move quickly enough to elude their notice. How did you manage it?”
Anticipating the question, Tarō shifted his whole body with a flourish—into a humanoid pocket-watch. The audience was stunned. The murmurs grew much louder as Shami whispered, “A Zorigami form… the boy’s a prodigy.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Biwa yelled to quiet the crowd, then leaned toward Koto as she spoke, “If breaking one law isn’t enough for him, charge the boy with impersonating a member of the Watch and—”
“—It does matter,” Koto cut her off. “We are not so prolific with talent we can afford to discard it out of spite. What’s more, he is a child and shall be judged as one. Tarō,” the god said, and the boy faced him. “I’ll summarize your story. Tell me if I have anything incorrect.
“Your parents, wanting you to have the brightest future, intended to enroll you in the statesman training program years early. You, unable to wait until you could decide your own future on coming of age—”
“—At fifty,” Tarō added.
“Yes, you, unable to wait a mere four decades in education with your whole life ahead of you, have an idea. You would rather serve the century punishment because you realize it will make you a ward of the state. And you are sure you will be trained in combat instead of assigned what you view as ‘boring’ work because you have proficiency in a rare form.
“You view yourself a hero in the making, held back by well-meaning fools. You think you have outsmarted the state when, in fact, what have you accomplished? You have disgraced yourself as a lawbreaker, endangered your life, risked exposing your people’s hidden home, and dishonored your father and mother for your own selfish purposes.”
Devastated, Tarō said nothing in his defense. The crowd did not whisper among themselves but stared in condemnation.
“Now we have that established,” Koto said without heat, “I conclude little to no actual harm has taken place. The boy has returned intact, the tunnels will require some work, but we shouldn’t have to relocate the colony, and we’ve been forced to show a few Wildlings an embarrassing side of ourselves. Nothing irreparable. Yes, the boy was arrogant, and yes, the boy was foolish, but these faults are to be expected in the young and corrected through hard work and application.
“Tarō is too talented to have been challenged by his chores and lessons. Thus, I will take a personal hand in his education. I will teach him the true meaning of discipline. I will forge the boy into a man his parents and he himself can be proud of. If the boy shows but an ounce of diligence, I expect to see him among my elite guard.”
““You are too kind, sir,”” Tarō’s parents said in unison as they bowed.
“As for the remainder of his misdeeds,” Koto added, “It is up to the community to decide if and when his actions can be forgiven.”
Tarō bowed this time and said, “Thank you, sir.”
Biwa broke the moment, “What about the Wildlings? How shall they be dealt with?”
After pondering, Koto said, “Who is the leader of your group?”
Daniel accepted the role for what it was worth, “I am.”
“I do not doubt you saved the boy’s life; I sense no deception in this. I will also disregard any suspicions I have that you accepted Tarō’s invitation out of anything but desperation. As such, I deem you have earned the Guest Rights he bestowed on you. How long do you wish to stay?”
Before Daniel answered, he heard Rana whisper in his head, :Trick Question, be careful.:
His brain overclocked as Daniel analyzed the situation with a critical eye. If they said, ‘We’d like to stay as long as possible.’ Koto could say, ‘Then stay forever,’ kill them, and bury their bodies here while ironically keeping his word.
If they said, ‘We don’t want to overstay our welcome.’ Koto could say, ‘You’re not welcome, leave now,’ kick them out, collapse the tunnel behind them, and they’d have to fight the mages with no time to prepare. They’d be demolished.
With this in mind, Daniel strove to tread a middle ground, “We aren’t special. Please treat us as you would any other guests.” Since the Tsukumogami seemed to hold Guest Rights in high esteem, Daniel decided to play on their sense of pride and honor.
For the first time, Koto seemed annoyed. Daniel held his breath as the god responded. “Very well. You have our protection for three nights and will leave the way you came at dawn. Now, let us speak of rules for a moment to avoid confusion. During your stay, if any of you performs an act of aggression against any of my people, your whole group shall be executed on the spot.”
Daniel, already sweating heavily, now felt drenched with cold perspiration.
“However,” Koto went on, “I’ll allow an exception for the Libra, who may otherwise be considered currently aggressing her guard. How are you doing, Momen?”
The cotton cloth wrapped around Lea’s head spoke, “Not well, sir. Her skin is very soft, and I believe my judgment is already impaired to her benefit.”
Koto nodded. “I shall take her magic’s mental influence into consideration if you are compelled to take any irregular actions from here on. I’d also like to limit our people’s exposure to the Libra as much as possible if you feel up to the task?”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” Momen replied.
Koto returned to addressing Daniel’s group, “If the Libra keeps her face covered and does not speak, I shall excuse her race’s aggressive magic. As guests with our protection, I will assign a number of bodyguards tasked solely with defending your lives for the entirety of your stay. I name Ittan-Momen, Akachochin, Hanmā, the twelve bobbing sisters, Gorou the nutcracker, and Tarō.”
“Me?” Tarō asked in surprise.
“Yes, they’re your guests; you can guide them. It’s past time you started taking responsibility for your actions,” Kota replied, then resumed his speech to Daniel and the others, “In addition, any member of the Tsukumogami—from the youngest child to myself—who attempts to harm our guests without one of them attacking first shall be captured, tried as a Race-Traitor, and Excommunicated. Do you accept these terms?” Koto asked them.
It was all Daniel could do to nod in humble acceptance.
“Good,” Koto said and then abruptly changed tone from severe to bemused as he asked, “Kyōrinrin, what does the record say I promised earlier today?”
The scroll case in his sash levitated into the air, decanted a piece of paper, and began reading, “‘For whoever returns the missing boy Tarō alive and well, I grant a feast in their honor.’ Those were your words exactly, sir.”
Koto chuckled. “It certainly wouldn’t be honorable of me to break my word. Prepare a feast for the Wildlings in celebration of Tarō’s safe return. May it teach me to be more careful with my promises. Let us away to the dining hall.”
The guards relaxed their grips on Daniel’s group—except Lea, who wore Momen the headwrap at all times, and Kenta, whose hair stayed bound by twelve hairpins. The nutcracker shifted into a scarecrow for ease of mobility, he and the other guards never straying far from their charges, with Tarō retreating to Cassie’s neck as a scarf. The ocean of rice straw mats carried them and Koto’s retinue, leaving Daniel to fear how the Tsukumogami people would treat their seven ‘guests.’ He knew it’d be a long three nights.