“What’s on your mind?” asked Patchouli after Arnold and Nazrin had closed the door to the library. I tried to ask her if we could move our expedition observation center to the human village, so that a crowd could watch us and provide feedback, but my will faltered.

“How does crystal communication work?” I asked instead.

It’s hard to ask a favor of someone who is hard-headed, self-assured, more powerful than you, and whose telepathy spell is the center of your communications system. I knew from Satori that reading multiple minds was painful and difficult; I knew from Patchouli’s own statement that it was dangerous for her to leave the library. I expected her to refuse my request, because going along with it would hurt her.

“It's actually two communication methods,” she said, “one for each direction. I use scrying spells on the far crystal. That allows me to project the light and sound impinging on it to our walls, with magnification for both of course.” She turned a page and went on with the gusto of a clever nerd talking about their problem-solving ability. “I dislike crystal balls, because a first-person perspective provides greater resolution. Either way, sound is harder to convey than light. The crystals have a lens characteristic that helps with visible projection, but their ability to carry sound is limited.”

“I see,” I said.

Asking her to move operations was made more difficult by my own hesitancy. I was anxious and embarrassed to try to work in front of dozens of strangers. I knew they’d be watching and critiquing my every move. Some of them would be idiotic smarmy assholes who’d pretend to know better, and many of them would silently judge me unfairly. I realized I didn’t actually want people to watch me battle with danmaku, even if I wanted their praise and admiration, and yes, some of their advice. I was trying to ask Patchouli for something even I was unenthusiastic about. She went on as I thought about it.

“Crystals vibrate minutely and rapidly,” she continued. “A drum would be better, if only sound had to come through. In the opposite direction I use a projection spell and telepathy to relay my thoughts and any spells I want. Previously it was straight into your mind, but I set up a conceptual reflector within the crystal so I could make it vibrate instead.”

“Do you read the minds of everyone in the library?” I asked. I hoped not. When it was quiet and boring my mind wandered, not always to a chaste place. In my defense, lustful demons were some of the library assistants and they might have influenced me.

“No,” she said. “The telepathy only sends.”

“Oh,” I said. That was good news. “Wait, how come we can hear the entire room, then?”

“Projecting multiple voices has been a challenge for ironic reasons. For a long time I liked to control the demons silently, to present a more intimidating air. I have practice controlling them with telepathy, but that comes with its own baggage.” She turned a page and smiled minutely. “I’ve had to unlearn some habits to send what I was hearing instead of what I deliberately meant. Letting emotional tone creep back into the transmission has been particularly difficult, when repeating the words of others, but I’ve almost got it down to habit now.”

“I see,” I said. “So if you were in a crowded room, it wouldn’t send everything, only what you were paying attention to?”

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to ask her. I tried to remind myself why I thought this was important. Feedback and emotional power would make me more likely to succeed on an expedition.

“That’s correct,” she said. “I send only what I’m paying attention to, and only what I allow to pass through. I could in theory project an image both ways, but I figured that would be suboptimal for battle and exploration. The crystal rotation for Nazrin’s directions is a more complex entanglement, but one that does not require my conscious intervention.”

I nodded. It was well-thought-out, just as expected from Patchouli. Usually she knew best. Trying to convince her to change course would be hard, but if she helped me I would be more likely to succeed. That meant I’d be more likely to save Human Town and Gensokyo at large from the unknown possible threat… and more likely to save Maroon, too. I imagined the fairy nervously asking Patchouli for a crayon because she kept breaking mechanical pencils. I chuckled.

“What’s funny, Mister Thorne?” asked the purple librarian. She turned another page.

“I was just thinking of how shy Maroon was, even about the simplest requests. You usually gave her anything she wanted, huh?”

“Anything she asked for,” said the librarian. She glanced at me briefly from the side of her eyes before returning to her book. “She erred too often on not asking for help or relief. A refusal hurt her more than suffering silently, or at least she thought it did. When we remanifest her, I’m going to order her to tell me her needs, no exceptions.”

I laughed. I hoped the librarian saw me more favorably than she saw fairies. We were partners: collaborators with the same goal. I could trust her, I thought. It was time to rip off the bandaid.

“Lady Knowledge, can we move the projection crystal to the human village?”

“No,” she said. She did not elaborate.

“You didn’t even ask me why!”

“I can tell you why not,” she said. “One: my health will suffer. Two: there aren’t any good projecting spaces within the village. Three: youkai interloping in the human village will observe our sessions. The locale has many security weak points that would leak our techniques to our enemies.”

“The humans there would provide a benefit, though,” I said.

“Four: I don’t want to.”

“Well, at least hear me out,” I said. I explained some of my thoughts about how others could contribute insights, and the emotive power they would give me. I also said that they could imitate youkai to help me practice.

“The person who said ‘two heads are better than one’ was probably the weaker of the two heads,” she said. “I doubt they were hundreds of years old, either. We will not benefit from random human insights, Mister Thorne. Perhaps because of your own unusual competence you underestimate the stupidity of the average human.”

“I see two problems with that,” I said. “The first is that insights are probabilistic, so even stupid people will have them sometimes.”

“Sometimes they surprise me by telling me a complicated truth I already know,” she admitted.

“The second is that these won’t be average humans. They’re Gensokyo residents.” I explained my reasoning to her: Yukari had chosen only healthy, intelligent, hard working people–or at least two of three, according to Wiki’s demographic surveys, and one of those would always be health. Unfortunately (from a diversity standpoint) the gap youkai hadn’t selected a single person with a genetic or mental illness, but she hadn’t chosen dummies. “In any case, the average IQ of humans in the village is at least 110 or 120!”

“I don’t care,” she said. “The average IQ of a demon would be 140, if they were on that scale, and they can’t leave the mansion.”

“Lady Knowledge,” said a koakuma who walked into view from around a shelf. “If I may–”

“No, you may not,” she said. “Any other requests, Mister Thorne?”

I frowned. My intuition had screamed at me that she’d refuse, and it had been right.

I was convinced that not moving to the village would be a mistake. The certainty came from my experience with my roommates’ help, my knowledge of my own self and motivations and need for practice, and some ineffable feeling that might have come to me in a dream. Patchouli thought she knew better than me, though, and nothing could possibly change her mind on that front.

I empathized a lot with Maroon just then. I wished someone could help me argue my case. Someone that Patchouli respected more than me.

The door to the library opened and a procession clanked in. They literally clanked: the three interlopers were wearing full suits of plate armor, although only the middle one had the helmet down. On either side were two koakuma, but they were unlike any koakuma I’d ever seen before.

Instead of wearing formal shirts and ties they were armored and carrying halberds. The demons were super tall, not least from the heels on their armor. I had no idea if boob plate was better for demons for some reason, but their armor accommodated their anatomy very well, in a way that only made sense if there were hundreds of duplicates of you around to make mass manufacturing viable.The chestplates even came with long telescoping sleeves for their pointed tails, which had a single-sided blade at the end. I spent a great fraction of the next five seconds thinking about the logistics of stabbing with one’s tail before realizing that a hook or a barb on the limb would be a disadvantage; they must have been for slashing.

The koakuma wore grim expressions and their hair was cropped close to their bat-winged skulls. The bat wings were holding their visors up.

One demon held the door open for the final armored figure, who was more modestly dressed. Both demons marched behind as the group strode toward us. Their halberds thunked on the wood floor in a perfect rhythm. All three suits of armor had a sickly-green tinge with white chunks on them, as though they’d been wading through wet styrofoam and pea soup. My nostrils and eyes burned. I smelled nothing.

Patchouli put down her book as I leapt to my feet. When the three armored figures got near, I realized the koakuma weren’t actually much taller than normal. Instead, the middle suit of armor was short, as though made for a child.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Remilia Scarlet flicked open her visor with a fine gauntlet. Her red eyes stared up at me.

“My Lady!” I said. “I didn’t recognize you!” I was already writing the details down in my notebook, subconsciously.

“Hmph,” said the vampire. “Mister Thorne, Patchee. I’m glad to see you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” said Patchouli. “I didn’t expect you until the evening, Remy.”

“Can you clean us up?” asked the vampire.

Patchouli nodded, lifted her hand, and released a gout of flame. It burned away the green tinge and debris attached to the armor, and also made the demons squirm uncomfortably. Patchouli blew the smoke away with a gust of wind. At first I was confused that she’d used fire, but then I realized that Remilia Scarlet wouldn’t want to be sprayed with water. That was supposedly bad for vampires.

“Thanks,” said Remilia.

“Did the expedition go well?” asked Patchouli.

“No. I decided to come back early. For good reason, though. I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

She tapped the side of her helmet. “A feeling that I should tell you to get out of the house more, you fucking recluse.” She put her hands on her hips. “Be more like me.”

Patchouli’s mouth opened, then closed. “I see. I will take it under advisement.”

“Good. And you, Mister Thorne! Why don’t you stay up reading more?” The helmeted head tilted to one side with a clattering of armor. “I get the distinct sense that you go to bed early, not because you’re a goody-two-shoes, but because you think work stops when you go home.”

“Sleep is important, my Lady.”

“Excuses. Weak-ass mortals. What a slacker.” She pointed at Patchouli, but the mitten style gauntlet covered her fingers so it was more of a wave. “People who are out to change the world fill their lives with world-changing thoughts, even at home, even at night. Be more like her.”

I bowed, because even if Remilia was being unusually bitchy, she was a powerful vampire. “I will take it under advisement, my Lady.”

“I will attack you at midnight tonight,” she said in the powerful cadence that made my bones feel hollow. “I will attack, unless you are awake and studying, in which case I may choose to leave you alone.” After that threat I might not sleep at all. Her voice continued in its normal high pitch. “Don’t forget that you don’t work for me anymore. This is friendly advice–I should charge you a consulting fee!”

Remilia Scarlet’s gaze was intense in a way that gave me pause. Her mouth was covered, but I had the sense that her teeth were bared in a painful grimace. Before I could decide whether to run away screaming, the vampire turned around to leave. I saw two little hatches on the back of her chestplate, both closed.

“That’s all I have to say to you two. I’m starving, so I’m going to go get some dinner. Come, demons. I’ll need you to help unlatch this awful piece of shit.”

“I could assist with magic,” said Patchouli. She was frowning.

Remilia waved her hand. “You and Mister Thorne have enough distractions as it is.” The three of them clanked out just as fast as they’d clanked in.

Patchouli and I spent a few moments in silence. Remilia really was like an impetuous CEO, striding in, stirring things up, then leaving before the consequences could reach her. It frustrated me, not least because it seemed to be supremely effective.

Needles the fairy poked her head over a shelf. “Is she gone?”

“Okay, Mister Thorne,” said Patchouli. “Let’s talk about how to build a projection theatre in Human Town.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve found that stubborn resistance for its own sake benefits no-one, least of all those close to Lady Scarlet.”

“You don’t say,” I said, shaking my head. “You know, rationalists call the ability to easily change one’s mind ‘lightness.’”

“I’m heavier than most by that metric,” said Patchouli. She frowned at her own turn of phrase, so I didn’t comment on it.

“The idea is that you shouldn’t resist evidence,” I said. “If you notice what the evidence is telling you, you should accept reality as soon as possible. Most humans struggle with changing their mind, so rationalists take pains to overcome that bias.”

“Youkai struggle even more,” she said with a sigh. “How many ‘rationalists’ do you suppose Miss Yakumo brought to Gensokyo?”

“At least half of one,” I said. I looked down at my notebook, where I’d double-underlined a reminder to stay up late. “I guess that Remilia’s fate manipulation is very, very strong evidence?”

“Just so,” she said. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Could you do me a favor and admit I was right?” I asked. Her eyes narrowed.

“Maybe later, if you actually were and this isn’t just one of Remilia’s amusements.” I should have just asked her out on a date, so she could refuse that too. She popped a different book open. “Either way, I’ll help you set things up in Human Town.”

“Fair,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Hmmm… lightness, as you call it, is the basis of my relationship with Lady Scarlet.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“After she was feared but before she was respected, I was the only one of her acquaintances who took her word seriously. Only I could appreciate that someone manipulating me could ever be to my benefit.”

“How sure are you that it’s for your own good?” I asked. People who thought they knew better than me drove me right up the wall, nevermind whether they were vampires who ate human flesh.

“I made sure that my desires and hers would coincide as much as possible,” said Patchouli. She called for a demon to bring more tea. “By simply being willing to cooperate, I drew Remilia to me. We worked together, both profiting immensely. Then we became friends. That makes it easier, of course.”

I nodded. “Where has she been recently, anyway?” I still had my notebook. “And does armor even do anything for her? Why’d she wear it?”

“It has little defensive utility. Lady Scarlet was on an expedition to Makai.” I remembered it; a place worse than Hell, where the very air would kill you and where humans could not survive. A place full of ‘demons’, but a different kind than were in Hell.

“Why?” I asked.

Patchouli shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a lark. I suspect she’s searching for Miss Yakumo and Miss Izayoi, but she tells me not to worry about it.”

“Why the armor, then?” I asked. “Does it protect her from the monsters there?”

“No,” said the librarian. “It’s because the armor is the only thing that doesn’t melt in the acidic miasma.” It took me a second to realize the implications.

“Wait, she was going commando?!” I asked. “Man, that must chafe!”

“Don’t worry, she’s used to leading ad-hoc military operations.” Patchouli sipped her tea. “Remilia enjoys it, even.”

I blinked, and decided not to clarify the miscommunication. If Remilia’s skin could resist clothes-melting air, it could probably resist iron just fine. Or maybe the suit was waterproof and she had things on underneath. Who could say.

My brain was still giving me a small note of confusion, as though I’d missed something.

“What do you suppose her advice to me meant?” I asked. Patchouli would not meet my eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But if you want to visit the library at night, we could arrange it.”

I swallowed. The only other person I knew who came here after hours was Marisa Kirisame, but she didn’t necessarily come here to read.

“I’d like that,” I said.

–

Patchouli and I made plans to make our live streaming endeavor as successful as possible. We considered projecting to a screen, but she insisted that any projection have as close to complete coverage as possible. Hopefully I’d be able to convince the Council to build a hemispherical ‘scrydome’ out of sticks and fabric. I told Wiki about it, and he seemed broadly supportive.

We sat on the bench in our dorm. I was petting Emeff. Stroking a chicken helped me feel better about all my worries.

“Also, at some point, we need to talk about the lighthouse,” I told Wiki.

“I’d rather not,” he said. “The more we discuss it, the more likely it is that someone overhears us or reads our lip movements from arbitrarily far away.”

“Well, I just want to know how you figured out that youkai are weak to…” artificial light, but perhaps saying it was a bad idea, “...anything.”

He nodded. “Miss Hakurei and Raghav went out drinking, once. She got drunk and started talking about how weak youkai were. He, rationally, took notes.”

I felt my brow furrow. “That is your basis for risking someone’s life in a trap?”

“We did follow up on the information,” he said, holding up his fingers one-by-one. “I consulted with Heida no Akyuu, who confirmed it as a possibility. Raghav asked Reimu, who told him to ‘shut up’ in a way that suggested she regretted letting it slip. Finally, I got Arnold to talk to…” he frowned. “Never mind. Regardless, I’ve confirmed to my satisfaction that electric lights repel youkai. Marisa has even told me that her flashlight does wonders while she patrols Human Town.”

I remembered the harsh glare I’d seen while being caught in a compromised position. A ruse that Sekibanki could set up in advance, because she’d ‘felt’ Marisa coming.

“Are you sure they won’t recognize it as a trap?”

He shrugged. “If they do, the person inside will be safe, and perhaps it will make the mystery killer hesitate to kidnap others. The volunteers know their lives are at risk. Most are danmaku users, though, which should help if a youkai does take the bait.”

“They might die,” I said.

“What do you want me to tell you?” he responded. “We need to fight back against the youkai. This experiment is part of how we do that–by testing one of their weaknesses.”

“Why don’t you volunteer for it yourself?” I asked, intending to challenge him.

“Remilia’s fate manipulation means that it's more likely to fail if I do,” he countered. “I’m already destined to die at the hands of youkai. Testing youkai repellent on me, is like testing chemotherapy drugs on a corpse.”

I frowned. Wiki kept writing in his notebook, as though he’d just said something normal. I got a little closer to him, but resisted the urge to put my hand on his shoulder. I knew he wouldn't like it.

“Don’t give up hope,” I said. “You don’t know you are doomed. Only that Remilia didn’t want to try to protect you.”

“I haven’t,” he responded quietly. When he continued it was in the faintest whisper, and he was covering his mouth. “But let’s be real. If it helps you feel better, Raghav has scheduled a continuous watch on the house. Danmaku users. The youkai inside may or may not be captured in our trap, but they will definitely be surrounded and identified, even if they only look at the front door. And the volunteer will probably come out just fine.”

With that knowledge, I might volunteer myself–except Remilia had threatened to visit me, so I wasn’t the best choice either.

“Oh, and this should be obvious, but don’t tell your friend about it,” he added. I nodded.

Wiki thought my surreptitious friend was Alice, not Sekibanki, but it hardly mattered. Keeping a secret from her would suck–she was the only youkai I hadn’t been forced to keep secrets from, except now I couldn’t tell her that Suwako was empowering me or that the human village had a deadly trap set out for a youkai of the rebellion.

On the other hand, if she was secretly eating humans, this was one way to find out. I strongly suspected she wasn’t. Perhaps catching the most murderous of her associatesh.would even aid her in her political battle to stop the rebellion: ’Look, fighting humans just isn’t profitable.’ Maybe I’d only have to convince one more youkai to switch sides, then.

I hoped that Wiki was right about the lighthouse being a safe, solid plan, but I continued to worry regardless.