“You’re late,” said Patchouli Knowledge. The purple magician was waiting in the library and reading a book, as always. Her eyes had dark bags under them, and I felt an immediate wave of pity. Whether worrying about Sakuya or the fate of Gensokyo, it was clear that the resident librarian had not slept.

Nazrin was there too. The mouse youkai closed a book and went to sit at the same table as Patchouli. A demon was standing nearby and dressed in business casual, and I deliberately avoided noticing whether it was a lustful or wrathful demon.

“Sorry,” I said. “Not only did we not set a time, but I don’t have a watch.” Nor an alarm clock, nor a rooster, which was the low-tech equivalent of an alarm clock.

“He’s ill equipped, huh,” said Nazrin.

“You have no idea,” said Patchouli.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. To my shock, the demon answered me.

“Patchouli is likely referring to your lack of magical tomes, spells, artifacts, and accoutrements,” said the red-haired koakuma. “For example, you require artificial assistance for flight. The jab perhaps disparaged your anatomy, but rest assured that statistically and to Miss Knowledge’s keen eye in particular, your member is more than–”

Patchouli cast some sort of spell, and the demon’s mouth overflowed with white fluff, silencing her. I had the suspicion that this demon was lustful after all.

“Are those marshmallows?” I asked, instead of ‘when had Patchouli seen my junk?’ The magician probably had magical cameras all over the place. Even if she didn’t, she’d used magic to check my internal anatomy… it might have been a more complete scan than I’d realized.

The koakuma nodded, and the marshmallows were falling to the floor as they poured out of her mouth.

“Mhmenf mh munf muv mnn mnnfunn,” said the demon.

“Quiet, demon,” Patchouli belatedly added. “Yes, they’re marshmallows. I’m not cruel, so I didn’t choose something worse.”

“Like… mayonnaise?”

“Glass, arsenic, centipedes,” said Patchouli with a shrug. “Glass centipedes coated in arsenic.”

“Iron crucifixes coated in holy water,” I suggested. The koakuma flinched and I got a whiff of some chemical.

“Whoa,” said Nazrin, her eyes wide. “Humans are scary.”

“Oh, me next!” shouted Needles. Patchouli obliged with a gesture. The fairy’s mouth fwomped as it filled with magical marshmallows and she flew away, laughing with her mouth full. Unlike the koakuma, she was eating them instead of letting them fall to the floor.

“I thought the demons couldn’t answer rhetorical questions any more,” I said, semi-rhetorically.

“They can’t,” replied the librarian. “They have also sometimes refused to answer even non-rhetorical questions, in the case of ambiguity. I was fine-tuning the commands when you arrived.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to ask them questions at all,” I added. To test her alterations she must have been asking them questions.

“You aren’t.” Patchouli’s gaze was cool, and she looked ready to fill my mouth with marshmallows.

“I see,” I said. “Anyway, what’s the plan for going to hell?” We were burning daylight, and I had instructions not to be underground at night.

“Take this crystal,” said Patchouli. A floating purple gemstone the size of a golf ball flew over to me. It hovered mid-air. The gem’s facets had white cracks streaking across them, and when I looked closer I could see that it had a single iron nail jammed in it like it was a mineral olive on a metal toothpick.

“Um,” I said. “How should I take it?” Was the iron rod a handle? It stuck out sideways, so that didn’t seem right. I felt very stupid asking what to do, but some part of my intuition told me that just grabbing the flying crystal wasn’t the best idea. My hair stood on end when it got near, and when I falteringly reached forward it floated back, a safety mechanism that made me think of the wings.

“It’ll follow you,” she said. “I meant ‘take it with you’ rather than pocket it. The crystal’s indicator will allow us to guide you remotely. Miss Nazrin, care to demonstrate?”

“My name is just Nazrin,” said Nazrin. She hummed and pulled out her dowsing rods.

It was then that I noticed she had her own purple crystal in front of her with an iron rod jammed in it. It wasn’t just similar to my own, it was an exact duplicate down to the cracks and the position and size of the nail. Its flat bottom was resting on the table. The crystal was surrounded with magical sigils.

“I’m looking for Patchouli Knowledge,” said Nazrin. Her rods twitched.

“She’s right there,” said the demon, who had apparently spat out all the summoned marshmallows.

“I told you to be quiet,” said the librarian.

“Apologies.”

Nazrin’s rods moved, and the crystal turned a few degrees to point at the witch across the table. My own crystal spun around most of the way until it pointed toward Patchouli as well.

“That’s weird,” I said. I stepped to the side and the crystal followed me, rotating as it did. Nazrin’s crystal didn’t move. “If they’re linked, why does mine turn and hers doesn’t?”

“Both stones are charged with conceptual orientation,” started the koakuma, before Patchouli filled her mouth with marshmallows again.

“Revert to your prior instructions,” said the magician. The koakuma nodded and began to chew the marshmallows.

“Could you use that spell to feed the village?” I asked. I enjoyed marshmallows, I had to admit.

I had the thought that I actually should say something that would irritate Patchouli, so that I could be rewarded with a delicious treat, but that was decidedly non-paragon. I imagined Maroon admonishing me. Really, if I wanted marshmallows from Patchouli I could just ask, like Needles had.

“No,” she said. “Now, let’s–”

“Why not?” asked Nazrin. She stared at Patchouli for a few seconds. Patchouli stared back. “I see.”

“Eh?” I asked.

Testing, said Patchouli Knowledge, directly into my mind.

‘Can you read my mind right now?’ I thought. I tried not to think of what the koakuma had said about my anatomy being adequate, failed, and felt my face turn red. The demon had said that Patchouli specifically found me adequate. How could either of them really know, without a direct examination? Did they talk about it? Would they be interested in a direct examination? Would I be interested in providing one?

Part of me certainly was. I tried not to think about it and failed again.

I continued to fail at controlling my thoughts for a few more seconds.

“He has no poker face,” said Nazrin. “What’s he thinking about?”

“Alas, I cannot read his mind,” said Patchouli. She narrowed her eyes, and I heard a voice in my head.

You have to speak aloud, I’m afraid. You lack telepathic spells, so the crystal’s projection of thought will be unidirectional. It helpfully listens to ordinary sounds, so I will be able to hear any conversation or other sounds you experience.

“Testing,” I said aloud, as I thought ‘oh thank fuck’. When Satori could read my mind, it had been awkward enough, but Patchouli looked like an attractive adult woman and I had considerably more secrets to keep from her, at least regarding what I thought of her.

“I can hear you,” said Nazrin. “I mean, it came from the crystal. I think.”

“One moment please,” said Patchouli. She activated another magic sigil, and an ominous darkness descended in the library, snuffing out the candles.

A twisting kaleidoscope of rotating books formed on the walls around us. I saw images of myself from the crystal’s point of view, but also images of the wall projecting those images, and images of that. It went on and on. They swirled with dizzying immediacy.

It was kind of like the final scenes of Interstellar, a movie which had been popular for decades. I had enjoyed the movie myself, although I found the friendly and reliable robots quaint and unrealistic.

“Whoops,” said Patchouli. “Leave the library, so that the projection stabilizes.”

“On it,” I said, walking toward where I thought the door was and trying not to hurl. The image zoomed and strobed on one side as I neared the wall. I spotted the door, and when I stepped through the crystal followed me. The hallway beyond was as still and empty as usual. “Better?” I asked aloud.

Yes, said Patchouli. We are receiving on all channels.

“All… two?”

Yes.

The voice in my mind wasn’t exactly like Patchouli’s. For example, I was all but certain that there were more than two types of information being sent through the crystal, and that she’d have normally spoken with a curt and patronizing cadence when declining to go into detail. However, all I heard in my mind was ‘yes’ like I’d thought it to myself.

My inner voice wasn’t feminine. Right?

“So now what?” I asked.

Proceed toward the entrance to the underground. I heard the voice in an ear-splitting falsetto, completely distinct from my own thoughts, but still like myself trying to sound feminine. It was headache-inducing and also a bit intriguing. Apparently the voice sounded however I imagined it to sound?

“Where is that anyway?” I asked. I figured I could imagine something less painful, like a whisper. I imagined Patchouli whispering to me.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It is at the Fantastic Blowhole, came the sultry voice. Don’t worry, we’ll guide you there!

With the immediacy of a pounding heart, I realized it was a terrible idea to imagine her voice with that kind of whisper. I resolved to stick to professional tones for safety’s sake and for maximum accuracy. I tried to compose my thoughts.

“You know, this is a lot like the events of Subterranean Animism,” I said. It was a game in which Patchouli Knowledge (or another youkai) guided the main character along the path to Hell. Wiki had told me about it in great detail.

If you are referring to previous Incidents where I’ve provided remote support, all I can say is that an effective technique may be used more than once.

“Fair.” The crystal finally turned to point down the hall.

Can you see what the crystal is indicating?

“Yes. It’s pointing right at the hallway I am supposed to avoid.”

So it is. A moment passed. Nazrin says she cannot guide you toward a safe path, only toward the most direct path. Do not go down that hallway.

“That’s great,” I said, as I took the long way around. “I’m used to that.”

—

The midmorning sunlight was weak, and the air was chill. Even so, I missed my hat. I didn’t want a sunburn or a head cold. I felt underequipped, it was true, but at least I’d gotten a new notebook from Wiki.

The entrance to the underground was a few miles away, in a sinkhole in a low open field. The so-called Fantastic Blowhole. It was one of the lowest elevations in Gensokyo. I found myself reversing course and walking back toward the human village, which was on a high spot between the lake and the meadow I sought.

“Too bad I’m going to have to backtrack every morning,” I said. I jumped, trying to fly, and made it about a yard. The crystal swept behind me like the annoying helper in a video game, never far from advising me. Not like a fairy, though; only one of them had ever been particularly helpful.

You may leave the crystal at your residence if you prefer.

“I’m uncomfortable with that invasion of privacy.”

I will turn it off at night.

“Uh…”

I promise.

I knew for a fact that Patchouli didn’t give one single whit about privacy. Spying on us would be easy and perhaps advantageous. Even if she didn’t want to do it personally, Patchouli Knowledge could order a demon to do it. The situation would be parallel to the close-monitoring bootleg AI assistants that were widespread in the Outside World for a time, except instead of chatbots trying to fathom my purchasing decisions, it would be demons.

I tried to consider the possibility fairly. Although the koakumas might use private information to cause me maximum psychological distress, they wouldn’t use it to advertise to me, so, y’know. It could be bearable.

I decided that I wouldn’t be tolerating any of that. Instead, I could shove the crystal in a bag and put that bag in a box, which I’d hide in Emeff’s cage or under the sink. Or maybe another box. The thought of Patchouli spying on our pet chicken was amusing.

To make conversation, I asked Patchouli about Yukari’s disappearance. She didn’t have anything to say beyond what Byakuren and Reimu had told us: Yukari was undoubtedly resting, and would be back after an unpredictable interval. Patchouli refused to put bounds on that interval, telling me that the youkai herself would choose to defy any prediction.

“So she’s still listening,” I said.

I don’t know, but it is wise to behave as though that were true. For that reason, I would not try to meet with Sekibanki until the appointed time.

“Could Nazrin locate Yukari?” I asked.

A moment later my crystal spun wildly and exploded into ten thousand tiny pieces.

I went back toward the mansion. Patchouli was less than impressed, and Nazrin’s had a bandaid on her face, but the librarian had already made a replacement crystal before I arrived.

–

The crystal bobbed along behind me. If I stopped it would stop, and I could walk around it until it was right in front of me and I could check to see which direction the nail pointed. The situation was less convenient than a compass. Sometimes I thought I saw a smoky tether extending from the purple crystal, but it wasn’t as bright as Sekibanki’s trails were.

I walked through the village and waved to the humans I passed. There was a hubbub of activity, and impromptu classes and meetings for the new humans. They were being brought up to speed.

“Did you fix the translation spell?” I asked. A passing man gave me a concerned look.

Yes. She did not elaborate, and I walked through the village in relative silence. I caught sight of Wiki talking to two girls I’d never seen before, facing away, and decided that it wasn’t worth investigating further.

I kept going south and out of the village, past where I thought the forest of magic should be. It wasn’t there, of course.

“Can you ask Nazrin if she can find the forest of magic?” I asked.

Asking through this channel is asking yourself. She says no, our mission is more important. Fine. She says yes, if you pay her, but she’s wrong and our mission is more important.

“How much?” I asked

Can we not negotiate prices while we are working?

“I’m just walking. It’s not like we have anything better to do.”

It is hard to read and telepathically send, simultaneously.

“I thought you said you weren’t reading my mind!”

Read a book.

“Oh.” It almost sounded like an instruction. I wondered if I’d imagined it that way.

You may have seen me doing it once or twice, even if you don’t quite understand the concept.

“I literally taught one of your subordinates to read! Maroon is literally literate from my lessons!” Some nice alliteration, I thought.

You should figuratively figure out when to keep your mouth shut.

“Whatever,” I said. “We should talk about getting my hat later, Nazrin.”

She is nodding.

“Thanks. Also, this communicator doesn’t send tone or even sound, so forgive me if I misunderstand you.”

Thank you for bringing it to my attention.

—

No matter how you sliced it, Gensokyo was beautiful. I walked through a calm forest full of huge beautiful trees, and tried to take it in like a youkai feeding on the exemplary example of its nature.

The forest wasn’t quiet, but instead it rang with birdsong. Red and blue birds fluttered among the deep greens, looking for insects that were too small and fast for me to see. Gensokyo had no mosquitos. I supposed there could be green birds as well as the red and blue, but if so they were too camouflaged to be noticed.

As I followed the trail I came to a low meadow full of wildflowers. They were still blooming even into the late fall. Most were pink bells, but there were also yellow and white chrysanthemums and other flowers I didn’t recognize. Stepping out of the forest allowed me to glimpse the dark fracture in the sky, but I tried not to look at it.

The meadow was full of vibrant plants even late into the year. Up ahead, the road ran beside an immense bush with scattered red and yellow flowers. It was at least fifteen feet tall. The red petals were striking, like blood.

“Maroon would like that one,” I said.

She would, came the reply. As I walked by, a fairy burst from the bush.

“I will defend the Crimson King with my life!” shrieked the fairy. She was wearing a dress made from pink petals and small, pale flower bells. The fairy was a foot tall at most. I put up my hands in a calming gesture and edged my way around the bush.

Challenge her, said Patchouli.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Because I love it!” shouted the tiny youkai. She didn’t realize I wasn’t talking to her. “It’s beautiful and grand!” Despite her boast, the fairy was shaking. She must have been talking about the bush.

“Only conservatives side with Bush,” I said. It was a dumb thing to say, not only because a fairy in Gensokyo wouldn't be familiar with US history, but because there’d been more than a few presidents with that name and their tickets weren’t always conservative. “Why should I fight her, though?”

She is hungry, said Patchouli. She wants you to fight her, but she may think you’re an ordinary human who doesn’t know danmaku. Show her that you are a danmaku user.

I nodded, and fired some danmaku toward the fairy. She fought back, sending small pink and white danmaku at me. We missed each other.

“You suck,” said the fairy. I frowned.

Stop missing on purpose. Defeat her.

“Okay,” I said, pelting the fairy with danmaku.

“Hah! You admit it!” Her insulting me made it easier to attack her. After a few moments the fairy submitted. But then six other identical fairies burst from the bush.

I started evasive maneuvers, including some leaps to practice flying. Danmaku the size of golfballs filled my vision. I dodged most of it, sometimes narrowly, but I was struck by one orb. It gave me the faint desire to protect the plant at all costs, a weird mix of certainty and disregard for everything else. I hadn’t yet been defeated. I could take a few hits.

After a tense sixty seconds I’d defeated all the fairies. They fluttered to the ground and bowed to me on their knees, like everyone I defeated in danmaku. They didn’t rise from near their flowering bush.

“That was surprisingly easy,” I said.

“Rude,” said a fairy.

Rude, said Patchouli in my mind. You were hit.

“True,” I replied. The two nearest fairies tried to spit at me.

“At least feel bad about it!”

“Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Rude!”

I walked up to the plant with the idea that I might smell a flower. Before I could, I caught the scent of freshly-cut grass. It took me a moment to realize why.

When I looked at the fairies I did a double-take. Their pale flower dresses had darkened from pink to red, to better match the flowers on the bush, or the vectors I had used against them. They were all cautiously watching me, and the first was still trembling.

“Do whatever you are going to do!” one of them said.

“I’m not going to hurt the bush,” I said. I gently lifted one of the flowers, smelled it, then let it go. It was sweet, like honey, but also a bit rich like tea. “Thank you,” I added, before continuing on my way.

“Yay!” said the fairies, almost as one. Behind me, they leapt into the air and began to chase each other around the huge plant. I smiled. Maroon definitely would have gotten along with them, perhaps better than the fairies of the mansion. She might even have been like that herself, once upon a time. I sighed.

You seem troubled.

“Does this crystal show you my face?” I asked.

Yes, and it listens to your incredibly loud sighs.

“Oh. Sorry if I was huffing and puffing during the fight.”

I have a volume knob, came the voice. Disregarding that, did something unsettle you?

“Well. I suspect the fairies thought I was going to cut off one of their bush’s flowers.”

I take it back, maybe you can read between the lines. I tried not to feel too proud of myself for surprising Patchouli with my intelligence.

“Would it hurt them if I did?” I wiped my brow. The hiking was making me warm, and the sun was high in the sky.

Depends on how much you enjoyed the flower that you cut. But probably, yes. You don’t seem like a person who appreciates flowers.

“Nor Bushes,” I said.

Noted.

“I’m glad I didn’t take one. They’re probably stressed as it is. I’m surprised that one plant can support so many identical youkai.”

It was probably a single youkai with many bodies.

“Oh, so that’s a thing.”

Yes. Many youkai are known to manifest in multiple places.

“I’m beginning to think that there’s no end to the complexity of youkai.”

Complexity is the nature of the entire world, but youkai especially.

I continued walking and looking at the flowers. There were quite a few, and more than once a fairy challenged me. I defeated them all easily. I didn’t think to worry about the flowers and the challenges until I saw an extremely tall sunflower beside the road.

“Does Miss Kazami live around here?” I asked. Kazami Yuuka hadn’t killed anyone during the attack, but the sunflower youkai had definitely been the scariest attacker. I’d been warned that she’d obliterate a person for stepping on a flower.

No, said Patchouli’s voice in my mind. She lives in the Sunflower Garden.

“Where is that, so that I can never go there?”

Why not? I’ve heard it’s pretty.

“I want to live.”

Understandable. It is on a plateau beside youkai mountain, to the west of the path. That was a relief; it was almost in the opposite direction from the sinkhole I was seeking.

“I see. Is it weird to see a sunflower all the way out here?”

They are an invasive species. Ironic, I thought. I don’t recommend uprooting it, despite that. You never know who might get on your case.

“Understood.” I glanced at the crystal. It was still directing me down the track. “Even if there’s going to be six, I hope none of them are Miss Kazami.”