Our group had spent an afternoon making posters to distribute with the youkai avoidance rules on them. As Wiki said, it was possible to convey information without a lecture, if only barely. He and Arnold had gone to hang the posters up around the village.

There were a handful of bulletin boards with short advertisements for services from the locals. These were quaint, uncustomized advertisements. I wanted to ask Wiki whether he’d been allowed to hang a poster at Hidontei (formerly Geidontei), the bar at which youkai sometimes met. The barmaid herself was a youkai. I’d predicted that she’d refuse, even going so far as to write my prediction down on a sticky-note, because I wanted to make it as easy as possible to tell when I was wrong (so I could fix it of course).

However, that wasn't what Wiki brought up when the group met up at the hut.

“The man missing an arm is dead,” said Wiki. “His name was Manuel, incidentally.”

“What?” I asked. “How? And how do you know?”

“He went back into Gensokyo at large,” said Wiki. “Someone found his shoes on the road. We heard about it while we were distributing posters.”

“You mean I heard about it,” said Arnold, “because I’m the one who’s been developing a network.”

“At the bar,” added Sasha as Wiki scowled. She set the basket of eggs on the counter, then went to scratch Emeff in her cage. “Bars are surprisingly useful, I’m starting to get why the human village has three.”

“I concede that befriending other humans is wise for uniting us against the youkai,” said Wiki.

“Maybe he just lost his shoes,” I said.

“And all of his blood,” said Wiki. “It was on the ground nearby.”

“Oh…” I was pretty sure that it wasn’t Sekibanki or Remilia who had killed him, at least.

“Who found the guy’s shoes?” Sasha asked.

“Chris,” said Arnold. “They were on the road to the Mansion. He goes there four times a week, the lucky dog.” A very few humans got excused from the ‘general’ ‘classes’, so that they could do more work of a particular type. The policy made sense, even if it pissed me off.

(Raghav was spending five days a week at the Hakurei shrine, no doubt guaranteeing that he’d eclipse all of us at danmaku.)

I had also gotten special dispensation to go to the Scarlet Devil Mansion four times a week, at least until Maroon learned to read. It confused me almost as much as Chris getting the same leeway.

“What’s Chris do that’s so important?” I asked. All the martial artists had been performing menial labor at the Scarlet Devil Mansion. The same would have been useful for construction; they seemed particularly unlikely to get exceptions. I told Arnold as much, and he seemed exasperated.

“I have no idea! He studied architecture, but he had been a layabout.” A person who accepted universal basic income without working at all didn’t seem all that worthy, to me, even if I had technically been one myself. The UBI was never enough. Chris was probably a freeloader. “He was supposed to be a cook, but I haven’t seen him in the kitchen.”

“Maybe they’re going to put a new wing in the Mansion,” suggested Wiki. “Servant’s quarters.”

“I hope so,” said Arnold. “Er, not that I don’t like living here…”

“Save it,” said Sasha. “Focus, idiots. Why the fuck would this guy–Manuel?–leave the village again? You’d think losing an arm would be enough!”

“You’d think,” said Wiki. “We tracked down his roommates. They said that they couldn’t believe it, either. Manuel had been having nightmares after his experience.”

My blood went cold. Sekibanki had mentioned something about detecting a nightmare. I tried not to give anything away with my expression. Even if that had been Manuel, his disappearance didn’t have anything to do with Sekibanki.

“The youkai Doremy Sweet is a baku, a monster that eats dreams,” continued Wiki. “She might be involved.” He went on to explain that she ruled the Dream World, then he went further in describing a set of tapir-decorated pillows she’d released that would cause people to see her in their dreams. He spent so long describing it that I got a chance to calm down, and I was considering visiting the Dream World myself.

“Scary,” said Arnold. “By the way, I’ve decided I’mma take that test with Jake and Sasha.”

“That’s fantastic,” I said. “It will undoubtedly help protect you.”

“I wouldn’t be sure about that,” said Wiki.

“However…” I went on, “I don’t think physical danmaku will be enough for the test.”

“Physical curtain fire,” said Wiki, making that complaint for the fifth time or so.

“We get it, you’re bilingual,” said Sasha.

“It has to be ostentatious, Keine says,” I said. “Part of the exam is representing your emotion in your pattern.” Arnold frowned.

“Shoot. But if I can punch through a dude, I should be able to throw a few bullets too, right?”

“Either way, you’d better hurry,” said Sasha. “Keine only offers the exam once per month.”

“Oh really?” said Wiki, his eyes lighting up. “That’s suspicious!”

“By the way, did they let you hang a poster at the bar?” I asked, after glancing at my reminder note. I’d put it on the Koishi cutout, which had somehow become our bulletin board. She was covered in sticky-notes, about two-thirds of which were crazy theories from Wiki.

“No,” said Wiki. “The blue-haired barmaid stopped us, as predicted.” Okunoda Miyoi was the youkai that Reika had asked us to avoid pestering, because it was ‘bad for house spirits to get tourists.’ I appreciated that Wiki had the sense not to name her, and was also listening to his girlfriend.

“We didn’t try that hard,” added Arnold. “She seemed stressed out by the possibility.”

“That’s good,” I said. “Not that she’s stressed, I meant that you didn’t keep pestering her.”

“Indeed,” said Wiki. “As long as we are talking about being pests, were you able to extract any information from Satori?”

“No,” I said, explaining that she could neither confirm correct theories nor deny false ones, at least as far as Yukari was concerned. “No learning things by negation.”

“Darn,” he said.

“I thought about the problem on the way back, though. If we gave Arnold probing questions, ones that neither he nor Satori would understand, the answers might allow you to make inferences in light of information that Arnold doesn’t have.”

“What?” asked Sasha, so I had to explain again, and better. It was like a double-blind experiment; Arnold wouldn’t know the importance of his questions, so Satori couldn’t know if she was leaking information by answering them. “You thought of this on the way back?”

I’d been thinking about Satori a lot, back when I was trying to keep secrets from her.

“Why don’t you ask Satori the questions?” Arnold asked me.

“Er, well… I’m good at making inferences, so I’d guess their importance.”

“You’re good at being arrogant,” said Sasha.

“Nah, he’s right,” said Arnold. “I’m the only one here who doesn’t overthink everything. Satori seems nice, I’d be happy to visit the coop.”

“But when you think about this strategy–” started Wiki, but I hushed him. If Arnold knew that thinking about the strategy was bad, he’d think about it around Satori.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Just ask her the questions we tell you to ask.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe you could punch Sasha while there,” I suggested. “It’s great for learning.”

“Being a spaz would help hide things, though,” said Sasha, to me, glossing over the possibility of getting clobbered. “You’d be way better for mysterious questions than Arnold, because you’d think you know why the questions matter, even though you’d be wrong, and she’d hide the wrong information.”

“By that logic, I’d be an even better choice,” said Wiki, with stunning insight.

“She hates you,” said Sasha.

“Thanks for reminding me.” He put another sticky note on the cutout. “Well, that just about does it for information sharing.”

—

Meiling handed me a note the next time I visited the Scarlet Devil Mansion. The redheaded possibly-a-dragon smiled at me, and with a jolt I realized that Arnold was right, she was gorgeous.

Also, she had a bruise on her neck. It was undoubtedly from training, and not a hickey at all. There were a lot of martial artists watching our interaction closely. I couldn’t help but wonder if Meiling had invited one of the humans for ‘special training.’

I also wondered if the others ever got notes. Their expression said they didn’t, but they’d like to, and it wouldn’t be that hard to take this one from me.

“Thanks,” I said. The note was from Sakuya, an apology for being unable to escort me to the library. It said that I didn’t technically need an escort in the Mansion. It also instructed me to beseech a demon for help, if I got lost, because the fairies were untrustworthy.

“She’s really busy right now,” added Meiling. “Sorry about that.”

“It’ll be fine,” I said. I realized that Meiling had read the note, or else she wouldn’t know to apologize for Sakuya.

I began to retrace the steps I’d taken so often with time stopped. I entered through the servant’s door. Everything felt weird, when the world wasn’t monochrome and still. It was like traveling through half-remembered streets in a different season.

The paintings all had color, for one thing, as did some of the doors. The decor was primarily brown, red, and cream. My muted steps on the carpet were quieter without the reverberation in stopped time, but floorboards creaked more than they had while frozen. The air in the mansion was colder than I remembered. It still had no windows, but there were hints of airflow, and wood that groaned in the wind.

Most interestingly, there were smells I’d missed. It was mostly a faint scent of dust, plaster, and old wood. There was meat cooking somewhere. I turned to sniff. I could have followed my nose to the kitchen. I’m not sure I’d enjoy what I found there.

I realized I’d turned myself around, and I wasn’t sure which door I was supposed to open.

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“Demon,” I said, trying to sound certain and calm, as the slides had told me.

“Yes?” said Koakuma, stepping out from around a corner.

“Guide me to the library.”

“Very well.” She led me through the door on the right. We wove through a few more doors and I recognized the path again. She was taking me exactly the way Sakuya would have, at least until we got to the great hall. Then she walked straight toward the library.

“Hold up a second,” I said. “We aren’t supposed to go through here.”

“Pardon?”

“Sakuya always took me around the other hallway,” I said, pointing at a door. “She said something about traps.”

Koakuma blinked. Then she slowly turned to look through the hallway, at things that were completely invisible to me. She finally turned back, her expression not having changed an iota.

“I need clarity on this. Please wait patiently.” She turned and strode to the library, straight through the zone I was to avoid, and nothing happened to her.

I knew the path to the library, even the circuitous one. I didn’t need to wait. Possibly I could walk straight there. But it felt like there was a mystery; why would Sakuya keep leading me the long way, especially when her time was so valuable?

Maybe it was a trap that only triggered during stopped time?

Maybe it was a trap that had been disabled, and the maid hadn’t known that?

Maybe the trap was still there, but demons were immune or otherwise wouldn’t trigger it?

Maybe a magical camera took nude photos, and I wasn’t hot enough?

Maybe the demon was trying to trick me?

There were too many possibilities; I couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. I stood still and thought about it for a while, long enough that the Koakuma reappeared at the end of the hall. She flew through the air. I could guess that Patchouli hadn’t been in the library, and the demon was still looking for her.

“Wait!” I said, and the demon stopped. She smoothly flew down to me. Her wings didn’t even flap, neither the ones on her back nor the ones on her head.

“Yes?”

“Can you answer some questions?” Patchouli had instructed me to not ask them questions, but I was almost certain that was for information security, not because it was inherently dangerous.

“I can.” I had to start with a question that seemed as innocuous as possible.

“Is there magic in this hallway that takes nude photos?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“I do not know.”

“That’s…” I hadn’t expected to be fucking right about it. “What kind of trap is that?”

“It’s not a–” she said, before stopping. “I have been instructed to tell no-one about any defensive measures, whatsoever. I will report your attempt to obtain this information to Miss Knowledge.” Whoops. Except, asking about traps wasn’t that suspicious, when I was lost in the Mansion.

“Will you report all my questions to Miss Knowledge?”

“Not all,” she said, smoothly. “However, I will report any that pertain to a list of certain subjects, including that question, because we are still discussing the security protocols of the Scarlet Devil Mansion.” Goddamnit, it felt like I was interacting with a stubborn AI.

On the other hand, I had some practice dealing with stubborn AI.

“We are no longer talking about the security protocols of the Scarlet Devil Mansion.” The devil nodded. I had lied to her effortlessly; thinking of her like a machine made it easier, and lying to conversational AI was a prerequisite for using them. “I do not wish to talk about forbidden subjects, so if we do, it is your fault.”

“Understood,” said the demon.

“Will you volunteer things to her that she’d want to know, even if she didn’t think to ask?”

Koakuma seemed to consider the question. “I am not a volunteer here, Mister Thorne.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I will not deceive Miss Knowledge by withholding information,” she said. “I will volunteer everything necessary, to answer her questions to the best of my ability. However, I will not volunteer anything I am not asked about, even if she would want to know. I am not on her side, technically.” Just like a fucking AI.

“Alright, please tell me anything you can about this hallway, but only if the fact of my asking and the answer itself is allowed.”

This Koakuma wasn’t the worst kind of stubborn AI; she didn’t start describing the floor. The spirit of my question was to obtain information I didn’t have, and she delivered magnificently.

“This hallway contains a magic that screens humans for,” she said, pausing for a moment, “a wide variety of things about their physiology. I have been instructed to ensure that Miss Hong’s students always take this hallway, so that they may be frequently screened, and that no other humans go through this hallway.”

“What kind of things?”

“Everything,” she said.

“Everything?”

“All of it.”

“All… information?”

“All information is one way to put it,” she confirmed. “Organs, bones, chakras, souls, chemicals, particles, quarks, and things that are harder to describe. The magic here scrutinizes these aspects; it gathers all information.”

“That’s, well, strictly speaking it’s impossible.”

“‘Information’ is a poor word to use, regarding these projecting sigils, but there are no suitable alternatives.”

“Have you heard of the no-cloning theorem?” Quantum uncertainty meant that it was impossible to obtain the entirety of information about a particle. They taught that fact in highschool.

“Yes,” she said. “Gensokyo is a land of magic, Mister Thorne, which means that such theorems may not apply. I have also been instructed that it is critical that Miss Hong’s students maintain good posture, so stop slouching.” I straightened up, but I didn’t take my hand off my chin.

“But I’m not supposed to be screened, for some reason.” Somehow this conversation made everything make even less sense. I thought I was at least a little bit attractive! And if Patchouli wanted nude photos, she could just ask me! Or half of Gensokyo! Probably!

“That is the clarity I wish to obtain from Miss Knowledge, herself,” said this koakuma. “There are sometimes contradictions in our orders. The protocol is to defer to Miss Knowledge’s wishes; but in this case, I believe I do not understand them, because your conviction about not traversing this hallway was unusually solid.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are a hesitant man, Mister Thorne. I detected someone else’s edict in your certainty. Miss Izayoi does not do things purposelessly.”

“Ah,” I said. Maybe Patchouli would be more impressed with my body than Sakuya had been, I supposed. I wondered if that was what they were really after before I realized I was being stupid. “Well, can you tell me how they are using this information?”

“No,” she said. “It is cause for consternation. The room beneath this one, where the projection occurs, is inaccessible to demons. This may be a defensive measure–”

“We aren’t talking about that,” I said, as quickly as I could.

“–and I cannot speculate further,” she finished.

“Are there many rooms that demons can't access?” I asked.

“There are a few,” she admitted.

“Which–”

“Miss Knowledge is here,” said Koakuma, turning to look down the hallway. The purple-haired librarian was flying forward. Her dress fluttered as she landed.

“Little demon,” said the librarian, “Mister Thorne. Shouldn’t you be teaching Maroon right now?”

“I got a bit lost,” I said. “Then I got confused.”

“Unsurprising.”

“Miss Knowledge,” said Koakuma, “Should I lead Mister Thorne down this hallway, or take him on a more circuitous route?”

“Tsk,” she said, before disappearing. A moment later she returned.

“You can teleport?” I asked, incredulous.

“When necessary. No, do not take him down this hallway.”

“Why not?” I asked, helplessly.

“There’s a trap that’ll kill people who aren’t Miss Hong’s students,” she said. That wasn’t what Koakuma had told me, but I was smart enough not to question it at that moment. I was ninety percent sure she’d gone to the hidden room, to check the information there. “Demon. Was Mister Thorne asking questions?”

“Yes,” she said.

“You aren’t supposed to do that,” she admonished me.

“I was lost and in danger!” I objected. The librarian turned to the demon.

“Was he?”

“He was most definitely lost,” said the koakuma, “And possibly in danger.”

“What did he ask about?”

“Our conversation was about this hallway, and whether it would be safe for him to walk across it. We did not discuss any forbidden subjects; Mister Thorne took pains to avoid them.” I knew the demon wasn’t on my side, necessarily, but I was happy for her to report it that way.

“Good,” said Patchouli. “Mister Thorne is not a student of Meiling’s, for future reference.”

“Apologies,” said Koakuma. “I’ll remember that Mister Thorne is not a student of Miss Hong’s.”

“You are very lucky that you hesitated,” added the youkai librarian. “Let us continue to the library, but we’ll take a safe route.”

–

Patchouli spent that lesson with us in the Library. It went poorly. Maroon hadn’t remembered any of the letters I’d taught her.

“I hate to say it,” I said, “But we need Cirno.”

“The ice fairy?” asked Patchouli. “Why?”

“She can read,” I said. “We should ask her how she learned, so that we can copy her methods.”

You could hear a pin drop. Patchouli’s book snapped shut.

“Pardon me?” she said. “Are you telling me that the idiotic, self-destructive, boastful fairy of ice and defiance… can read, and could do so this entire time?”

“Yes?”

“Cirno’s so cool,” said Maroon, her voice a bit breathless. “I hope we get along.”

“Wait a minute, are you attracted to fairies?” I asked, stupidly.

“She’s the strongest!” said Maroon. “She’s just so… strong!”

Of course Maroon was attracted to fairies. I was attracted to humans, after all, or at least things that were close enough to human shape and disposition, and the former probably mattered more than the latter.

“Are there male fairies?” I added, my curiosity piqued.

“Eww,” said Maroon. Patchouli shook her head, not a ‘no’ but a ‘this is stupid’.

“That’s not important right now,” said the librarian. She stood and began to pace. “What makes you think that Cirno can read?”

“It was…” It was something Wiki had told me. “Known in the Outside World.”

“It’s a shame I never go there,” said Patchouli. Her steps got faster as she walked back and forth. “Damn it. This is a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Isn't it a good thing that we have a new avenue to explore?”

“Yes, but how will we get her here?” asked Patchouli.

“Well, we could ask nicely,” I suggested. “You could hire her, like you hired me.”

“We only take in fairies that are desperate,” said Patchouli.

“Is that charity, or are they the only ones who’d accept your offer of employment?”

“Can’t it be both?” she asked, defiantly.

“Well, if it’s charity, then maybe you could offer payment even if–”

“She refused our offer of employment,” said Patchouli. “Fairies prefer to live outside, when possible, even ones that are as unusual as Cirno.”

“Unusual?” I asked.

“Not the time for that, either,” said Patchouli. “Cirno isn’t like other fairies; everything else is speculation.”

“Well, if job offers don’t work, we can use danmaku and compel her to come, I suppose….” I worried that Patchouli might object to forcing a fairy to do things, except she did it constantly.

“Who is ‘we,’ Mister Thorne?” Patchouli frowned at me. “Sakuya’s busy, and this is beneath Remilia. You are too weak.”

“I’m actually getting stronger,” I said, but she ignored me.

“The same is probably true of Meiling, at least for now, and Cirno is the strongest fairy, so our other fairies are right out.”

“They could gang up on her,” I said.

“They’ll all want to ally with her, instead,” said Patchouli, dismissively. “Any battle will be self-balancing, and we can’t risk losing half our staff to Cirno’s whims, which they might follow even without danmaku.”

“Ah.” I suspected ‘learn to read’ wasn’t a whim that was likely to be transferred.

“Finally, the demons can’t leave the premises. We are out of options.”

“Couldn’t you just fight her yourself?”

“I don’t want to,” said Patchouli. “I’ve been away from the Mansion too frequently, already, and now I have to chase down ice fairies as well?”

“...yeah?” I asked. “Why’s it bad if you leave?”

“I must–it’s bad for my health! I might get a sunburn!” I almost suggested going at night, before remembering why that was stupid. “And who knows how long it would take to find her!”

“I could look for her,” suggested Maroon, timidly. “She might fight me, and make me do things, but… she might also listen to me! I’m not that important, anyway, so if you lose me for a little bit that’s okay!”

“Cirno respects power, and power alone,” said Patchouli. “I’m sorry, Maroon, but she probably won’t listen to you.”

“Darn,” said the fairy. “I listen to me all the time.”

“Do you need more time outside?” asked Patchouli. She had stopped pacing. “You have earned some time off, if you desire.”

“Nah, I’m okay,” she said. “The Mansion is so pretty and red, I’d rather stay here!”

“Well, what if we put out a trap?” I said. “Make her come to us?”

Patchouli resumed her pacing. She thought for a few moments. “Intriguing. What kind of trap?”

I had the perfect idea, one that would serve all of my goals.