CHAPTER FOUR Le Roi was also invited to the ship, bringing a large map to the rooms below deck. Like the captain he was, Vadan stood before it and spoke. “This astronomer’s been taken away from her place in Wobern, but we can assume she’s being treated decently considering how someone’s buying books for her. That means this isn’t a kidnapping, but an escape. If we’re right about that, then it’s likely she’ll be somewhere she can keep an eye on the stars. And that means she’s either in a big city where nobles keep tryin’ to one-up one another with taller and taller towers in their mansions, or in a big church or abbey.” Once he laid out the premise, he took a knight chess piece and placed it on the map. “But there’s another option. A place no one will mind if outsiders come and go, one that could be lit up at night and won’t attract the attention of the inquisitors.” The wooden knight piece did not rest on any particular noble’s territory. It stood on the open sea. “A remote island? I see.” “There are a good handful under the Ruvik Alliance’s control, but more importantly, there’s one that’s particularly convenient to them.” Vadan was an active sailor—when Col informed him of his realization when he saw the lighthouse at the port, Vadan had named the island right away. “Northwest of here, between the mainland and the Kingdom of Winfiel, is Cobb Island.” “Is it well known?” “To sailors like us, yeah,” Vadan said with a shrug. “The island prospered a long time ago, back when the Winfiel Kingdom still had holdings on the mainland. Used to be their foothold in the south back in the day. ’Cause of that, the port was big, and the city was real grand despite how small the island was. But as the kingdom started losin’ its grip on the mainland, who exactly had ownership over the island became kinda ambiguous. It’s pretty far from the kingdom and the mainland, so it’s not easy to put one over the other. Y’know what that means?” “Aha,” Le Roi replied. “Any crack in governing powers serves as a haven for the lawless—that is the way of the world.” Myuri was excited because she loved stories of knights who rode gallantly over open fields, and that meant she loved tales of pirates who sailed the open seas even more. “The kingdom used to maintain the port, so it’s got a good, solid lighthouse. But when ownership got a little hazy after the kingdom withdrew, the light went out. It takes a lot of money to keep it goin’, see? When you’ve only got the likes of pirates sticking around on the island, no one wants to shell out the money for it.” “Which means,” Col continued, “if the astronomer started to live there and occasionally had the light on while observing the stars every night, no one would suspect her—in fact, they would be glad, no?” “Yeah. Plus, there are no tax collectors at the port there. She could bring in all the expensive books she wants, and no one would notice.” Col and the others had quickly come up with the idea of tracing the astronomer’s steps by tracking transactions in the book trade, so the astronomer herself must have been wary of the same thing. It would not have been surprising if she had carefully planned her movements to leave no obvious tax records. And that meant nothing was more perfect than this island for those who were wary of pursuers and wanted to erase their trail. “I doubt anyone will complain if we check this place first,” Vadan said. Le Roi stroked his chin and hummed. “From what you tell us, I see nothing wrong with it. It makes perfect sense.” If they got too ahead of themselves, there was a chance even white could start to look black. That was why the ever practical Le Roi’s agreement was such a vote of confidence. “That settles it, then,” Vadan declared. They would go to the island and begin searching for the astronomer. Myuri, who was leaning close to the map to squint at it, seemed like she might let her ears and tail pop out at any moment. There was no doubt the girl’s head was already filled with dizzying images of a grand adventure, where they had to fight through a flotilla of pirates to get to the island, then beat back hordes of ruffians as they took back the astronomer from the top of the tower. While Col did prefer it when she was playing hero rather than moping, he had to remind himself a real sword was hanging from her belt. If he suggested to her they leave the investigation to Vadan and his crew, she would surely bare her fangs and claws at him, which were much more terrifying than her sword. “Brother, when are we going?” She turned her burning eyes toward him. It did not seem he had much room to negotiate at all. “…Captain Vadan, let’s get going,” he said. Vadan looked between the two of them and gave a slight laugh. Le Roi remained in Ahberg, and Sharon left the ship, too. Despite how Myuri always snapped at Sharon, calling her Chicken and all that, she was a bit sad when she learned Sharon would not be coming with them to Cobb Island. “I need that bookseller to sell the vernacular scripture for us, y’know. I gotta talk to him.” Sharon had said that with a tired smile when she saw the way Myuri’s tail so obviously deflated. Sharon would show the printed sample to Le Roi, ask how many prospective customers they might have and how much they might be able to charge for it, and then decide how many copies they needed to start. Though Hyland and Eve were covering the costs of the workshop and the workers, their pockets were not bottomless. They had to start making money as soon as possible. “But this is supposed to be an adventure…,” Myuri said, disappointed. Her tone made it seem like Sharon was the foolish one for letting something so fun slip through her fingers. Sharon, instead, grinned. “It’s fine. I’m not the one who’s supposed to be going on adventures anymore. My job’s to calm down kids with stories of them.” Sharon came across as crabby, but in reality she enjoyed taking care of others. The orphans she looked after loved her dearly. Col could easily picture her reading to the children, but Myuri, on the other hand, realized she was being treated like one of her children and glared at her. Regardless, they got along well. The day after that conversation, their traveling party weighed anchor and set sail to Cobb Island on Vadan’s ship. “It’ll take two days to get there, right?” Myuri asked. “Yeah, if the wind doesn’t change on us,” Vadan replied. Myuri had waved until she could no longer see Le Roi, who had come to see them off. She gazed at the city of Ahberg with a touch of melancholy. The reason Sharon did not see them off was because they were pretending she had yet to arrive in the city. That was why she was not present at the strategy meeting for their departure to Cobb Island, either. If she reached the city too early, then Le Roi would begin to wonder how she managed to arrive so quickly. If they were to continue to rely on the powers of nonhumans, then they would have to resolve these inconsistencies one day. As Col was wishing his fight with the Church would end quickly so the world would be at peace, there came a cheerful laugh from beside him. “Heh-heh, pirate island…” Myuri let go of the railing on the ship and suddenly crouched, bending and stretching as though drawing up energy from a well. She wasted no time in letting her ears and tail out, either. Her coat was smooth and full of enthusiasm. “Remember, only draw your sword as a last resort.” It was much less likely the astronomer was locked away against her will and more likely she was being treated as a guest. Which meant there would be little in the way of guards watching her, and Col believed they would have plenty of opportunities to avoid bloodshed. But Myuri ignored his warning and abruptly stood up straight from her stretching. “Oh, right! I need an eyepatch! I have to ask Captain Vadan!” she exclaimed and rushed off. “But that would make you a pirate…” The rambunctious girl was going to give him a headache. The little mice nearby simply stared at him with wide eyes. Cobb Island was not very big. Its forests had been cut down a long, long time ago, and it was a dilapidated little island. The waters off the shore were mostly reefs, so the only proper place for ships to dock was in the south harbor. The island was an expanse of grassland and rocky outcroppings, and only shepherds managed a meager living out there; most of its residents were concentrated in and around the harbor. Outside of the harbor itself, the lighthouse in question sat on the eastern edge of the island. “There’s a little beach north of the lighthouse. A small boat could go ashore there,” Vadan said. It was the first night after their departure from Ahberg. They anchored in a small bay to shelter from the wind, and Vadan had a map open in front of them, explaining all sorts of things to them as they ate their dinner. “So we could take a small boat on the beach at night, go to the lighthouse, take out the guards, then save the fortune-teller, right?” Myuri’s eyes shone eagerly. The baby mice played with her tail. “We could, but there’s one thing I need to check with you first,” Vadan said. He looked around at the candlelit faces present before finally settling on Col. “If we do find the astronomer there, what are you gonna do if she refuses to go back with you?” There had been no trace of her being forcibly removed from the tower in Wobern. Most likely, she was not here against her will. “I do not expect there will be any need to force her to return with us. The prince-elector, too, will likely think it fine so long as we get the date.” “So you’re not gonna try and stop her if she doesn’t want to go back to Wobern, but wants to take our ship, yeah?” Myuri watched dubiously, but Col thought it perfectly plausible. Col and Ilenia, and those working with Ilenia, had different goals when it came to the astronomer. Ilenia’s priority was finding someone who had knowledge of the stars so they could find the new continent. It was perfectly possible the astronomer would say she did not want to go back to Wobern, but find the idea of looking for a new continent more exciting than staying and observing the heavens under the Ruvik Alliance’s watchful eye. If the Twilight Cardinal prioritized indebting Prince-Elector Duran, they would naturally have conflicting interests. As captain of the ship, Vadan had asked the obvious question to settle on one course of action, but Myuri did not seem to approve. She had assumed they were already acting as one. “I will not. I want to prioritize the astronomer’s wishes.” She would have needed a good reason and a good deal of resolve to leave Wobern voluntarily. “Is it okay to assume the same answer, even if she doesn’t give up the date of the eclipse?” In response, Myuri’s ears stood up while Col smiled bitterly. It was Ilenia who spoke. “Don’t be rude, Vadan.” The mouse captain looked at the sheep girl and shrugged. “I’ve got a wolf on board. I need her word before she decides to turn those fangs on us.” If the astronomer did not reveal the wanted date of the eclipse and refused to return to Wobern, then it was possible Col and Myuri would have to interrogate her. However, Vadan and Ilenia sought out the astronomer’s cooperation for other reasons, so they wanted to avoid forceful means if at all possible. “I don’t bite people that much!” Myuri took offense. But as she turned away in a huff, she added, “But I guess I do make threats.” Ilenia gave a troubled smile and stepped between Myuri and Vadan. “We still don’t know under what circumstances the astronomer left Wobern. The Ruvik Alliance may have simply won her over, and she left her tower without any further thought. I’d say the same is true for many alchemists and the like—there are a surprising number of them who have absolutely no interest in everyday matters.” Myuri still looked displeased, but when she turned to look at Col, ears twitching, she sighed and gave him a nod. Col decided not to ask what the sigh meant. “And if the astronomer won’t talk, then that may mean there are other people who already know the date of the eclipse. If you are going to bite anyone, then please bite whoever that might be instead.” Ilenia smiled, and the fur on Myuri’s tail stood on end. What was implied, but not said, was that she was free to bite anyone who was not the astronomer. “We’ll see how things shake out once we meet the person in question,” Vadan said, and again pored over the large, open map. The sun rose and set, ushering in the night again. The stars twinkled in the sky, and the wind was calm. The waters offshore were a bit choppy, but they evened out as they neared the island—the perfect weather for making secret passage. Vadan’s ship passed over the northern tip of the island, changed direction, then glided toward the spot off the shore they were using to disembark. “We won’t have excuse for the patrol ships if we drop anchor. We’re gonna sail away from the island for a bit.” Cobb Island’s political situation was uncertain, but that did not mean it was completely lawless. It cost money to maintain the port, and that money was collected from mooring ships. They would not be able to keep the harbor running if scoundrels anchored their boats outside of the port, did all the trade they wanted, and never paid the fee. “Update us with the lighthouse light. You remember the signal, yeah?” Vadan asked. As she stepped onto the smaller boat, Myuri nodded deeply. She had a dark cloth wrapped around her head—she was fully ready to play the part of pirate. “Fortune be with you,” Vadan said with a dead-serious look on his face as they pushed away from the larger ship. It seemed the mouse captain liked adventure in his own way. Ilenia looked like she was enjoying herself, and Myuri wore an expression of such earnestness Col had never seen before as she sat at the bow of the boat, staring straight ahead. The person rowing their boat was one of Vadan’s crew who could take on a human form, and several mice sat on his shoulders and at his feet. Quietly dancing in the sky far above them was a seabird Sharon sent with them for communication. The only sounds were the creaking of the oars and water lapping against the sides of the boat. As Col watched Myuri stare straight ahead at the beach, he felt a bit of relief. It seemed as though the distance between humans and nonhumans, and the inevitable parting the both of them would one day have to face, was no longer at the forefront of her mind. As he thought about how glad he was to see her having fun, her tail suddenly lifted lightly. Her gaze turned to the left, and he followed suit. There, he saw a hazy shadow in the darkness. It was the outline of the cape and the lighthouse. “It’s smaller than I thought it would be,” Col remarked. Though he could not see clearly, it seemed to be only about five stories high. Back when kingdom ships frequented this place, the lighthouse would have been lit every night, guiding ships that missed their mark back to the port. “I hope we’re right, though,” he whispered. It was unlit, and it seemed empty. Myuri inhaled deeply, and then exhaled just as deeply and audibly. Perhaps it was from nerves, or perhaps she was trying to smell other people. As she stared ahead, the last thing she said was, “It smells like fish.” The boat slid onto the beach, and they started getting out. While Col took his time, the mice leaped onto the island and dashed off with incredible vigor. They were apparently going to scout their surroundings. Ilenia helped him onto the beach. Myuri, her mind now full of pirates, beckoned them to follow and began walking along the water’s edge. Once his eyes adjusted to the nighttime sea, Col was surprised by how far he could see, and he was surprised by how loud his footsteps were. He then began to wonder if the reason Myuri had cloth wrapped around her head was not because she was playing pirate, but because her silver hair stood out so much. If that was the case, he thought she should put her tail away, too, but for some strange reason, her tail seemed to blend in with the sand. They stepped over the crabs taking their nighttime beach strolls and occasionally ran into the mice who had gone off scouting. They would scurry a few paces ahead of Myuri, then rush off again. After a short bit of walking, they reached a hilly path that led to the cape, and they stepped from the beach onto grass. That was enough to make the waves sound distant. As they trudged through grass soaked in night dew, Myuri came to a stop, crouched down, and reached for the ground. A mouse appeared from the curtain of grass, scampered up her arm, then whispered something to her. “Really?” she asked back, then turned around to look at Col “Someone’s in there.” The lighthouse had fallen out of use and was supposed to be empty. Perhaps it was a shepherd. Or a scoundrel looking to save money on an inn. But of course, Myuri thought it was the astronomer. “Let’s go!” Myuri set off with such energy Col thought she was going to finish that line with scallywags! The lighthouse was sturdy and made of stone, its entrance firmly barred with a metal gate. Ilenia could have opened it with a head-butt, but Myuri found little gaps in the stone meant to let in fresh air, and whispered to one of the mice, “Can you go inside and open the door?” The mouse leaped into the wall and slipped through the cracks. Apparently, he was one of the mice who could turn into a human, and before long there came the dull sound of the gate bar lifting. Myuri pulled the door open and the mouse, faintly illuminated by the moonlight, greeted them; had he been in his human form, he would have been completely naked. Col was thankful for his consideration as the older brother of a girl coming of age, but the wild girl in question likely had not even considered the possibility, given how she took the lead and made her way up the spiral staircase. The lighthouse was filled with the scent of stone, and strangely enough, Col did not sense the sea from here. He could scarcely hear the waves, and the sound of his own heartbeat quickly filled his ears. There did not seem to be any armed guards. Even if there were, he had Myuri, who was more reliable than any knight, and Ilenia, who could mow down a whole band of soldiers. Despite this, Col was terribly nervous, perhaps due to his timid nature. Or perhaps he was excited at the prospect of meeting an astronomer so skilled that she could predict the movement of the heavens. Prayer was not the only way one could brush up against the hems of God’s robes, and from what he saw in her observation room at the top of the tower, Col wondered if astronomers prayed more than anyone else night after night. As those thoughts rolled through his mind, they steadily made their way to the top. They could not use candlelight, so he relied on Myuri’s silver tail as they went up until they reached an open space. It felt airy in here, perhaps because the floor above was where the lighthouse lamp would typically be lit. Myuri opened the wooden shutters of the window, letting in the light and illuminating the room. It almost looked like the inside of a remote abbey, or lodgings meant for traveling monks. The walls were bleak, and it was barely furnished, but there were piles and piles of books. No grand portraits of saviors or depictions of angels adorned the walls. Instead, there was one enormous star chart. “There she is,” Myuri murmured. She gazed at a girl cradling a large book as she slumbered. The girl’s long black hair lay beneath her messily, like a pool of blood, but what made it seem not as unsettling as it could have been was that she slept so soundly. Ilenia had mentioned the possibility the Ruvik Alliance may have convinced her to leave Wobern without much of a plan, and Col had a feeling that might have been the case. He again felt an affinity for her given the state of the room. His nerves were also eased considerably by the way the astronomer showed absolutely no sign of waking up even when mice scampered around her pillow and Myuri stuck her face in close to sniff her. “I’m waking her up,” Myuri said as she turned to look at Col, and he gave his tired assent. “Wake up, fortune-teller!” Myuri shook her shoulders, and she comically jolted up. Her drowsy eyes rested on Col, and she stared blankly at him. “Huh, wha…?” “Are you the fortune-teller?” Myuri asked. The girl blinked. “We have been looking for you under orders of Prince-Elector Duran.” The moment Col said that, her childlike face tensed up. “Your dagger is here,” Myuri said. “You can yell, but the only people who’ll hear you are the fishes.” The mice had already pilfered her dagger from beneath her pillow, and Myuri held it in her hand. The astronomer had been discretely reaching beneath the pillow, but realizing the futility, she held her breath and curled in on herself. “Make no mistake,” Col continued. “We are not here to forcibly take you back.” The girl turned to look at Col, then at Myuri, and finally at Ilenia. She looked perplexed, perhaps because the pursuers of the prince-elector she had wronged were acting rather oddly. “…O-okay, then, wh—Cough, cough!” As she spoke haltingly, she began to cough, either from nerves or confusion. After her fit subsided, she tried again. “Wait…How…did you find this place?” The way she spoke told Col she had escaped voluntarily. He could also tell from her bewilderment she had not worried about being found at all. “Easy. We’ve traveled all over the world,” Myuri said proudly. Col lightly jabbed her in the head and gave the astronomer a brief explanation. “The next time you decide to run, I suggest you refrain from buying any books.” The girl stared at him, then glanced at the large book she had fallen asleep holding, then let her shoulders slump in disappointment. “It was books, huh…” “And you need the right tools and location in order to observe the stars. That narrowed down the possibilities,” Ilenia added. She had climbed up the ladder that led to the floor above and was poking around up there. It seemed that was where the astronomer’s observation tools were installed. “Ohhh…But those guys told me no one would ever be able to find me here…” From appearances alone, the girl looked to be about a decade older than Myuri and Ilenia, but the way she spoke and acted was strangely childlike. Boyish, even. It truly seemed as though she had lived her whole life pursuing only things that struck her fancy. “By any chance, are you talking about people from the Ruvik Alliance?” Col asked. The girl turned her black eyes to Col, pouted, and turned away in a huff. Col instantly felt the tension drain from his body because her reactions were just like Myuri’s. That sense of familiarity was incredibly relieving. “Why don’t we talk for a bit?” he offered. The girl ignored him for a short while. But just as Myuri was about to lose her patience, the girl glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded with a sigh. They got a fire going and started boiling some water. Myuri then used the same fire on the upper floor to give Vadan the signal. Col also decided to take a quick peek at the room above. Though it was much smaller than the one in the tower at Wobern, it also held a half-circle metal plate and the large, bow-like apparatus with the needle for observing the stars. “Amaretto,” the girl muttered sulkily. A few moments later, Col realized she was introducing herself. “My name is Tote Col. This is Miss Ilenia, and this tomboy is Myuri.” The girl sipped her hot water and shrugged. “And? Why’d you come all this way from those backwoods mountains?” The way she spoke so brusquely was exactly the way Myuri acted when she got defiant after a one of her pranks had been found out. “Prince-Elector Duran is in a bit of a tough position,” Col began. “As his last resort to regain his authority, he requested you give him the date for an upcoming eclipse, but then you escaped and took the information with you. Is that correct?” Amaretto took another sip, and then exhaled in irritation. “Is that what he’s telling people?” “……” Col did not respond. He only stared at Amaretto in return. The childlike astronomer stubbornly glared back, then snapped her gaze away in a huff. “So you came after me because you took everything he said at face value?” Col knew from watching Eve at work that sometimes, the shrewdest merchants would purposefully rile up the other party for an advantage in negotiations. But what Amaretto said sounded like pure grumbling. The reason Myuri stared so coolly at her was probably because she could tell how similar they were and she did not like it. “I told him I couldn’t predict the eclipse.” Col looked at Ilenia, who gave him a dry smile. It did not seem she was lying. “Predicting eclipses is like a secret art that astronomers talk about. It’s the stuff of legends more than anything. Do you even know why the stars on the ecliptic are called planets?” “What?” “Because even the ancient wise men concluded their orbits are like lines drawn by a drunkard!” Col had heard once before that planet was derived from the old word for wander. As he rolled the word in his mouth, pondering the significance of it all, a smack on his shoulder brought him back to the present. The culprit was Myuri—she had no interest in complicated matters. “So then why did you escape from the mountains? And,” Myuri said as she leaned forward, coming close enough to Amaretto that she could bite her, “why were you researching the Moon-Hunting Bear?” The surprise that sprang onto Amaretto’s face was different from when she had been roused from her slumber, or when she learned they were pursuers sent by the prince-elector. Because what remained after her surprise passed was not fear. It was curiosity. “What? What do you mean?” “I’m the one asking questions here!” Myuri threatened. But Amaretto did not recoil; instead, she leaned forward. “Are you looking into the Moon-Hunting Bear, too? Where did you hear about it? What did you hear?” “Wh—huh?” “Wait, I have a map. Tell me where you heard about it. Was it in the northern mountain region? Or the southern plains? What other stories have you heard? Do you think the Moon-Hunting Bear really existed?!” Myuri was supposed to be the one pressing for answers, but she suddenly found herself on the back foot instead. As she sat on her bed, Amaretto roughly ran her hand through her hair then reached up into the cabinet above her and immediately pulled out a folded map. Myuri was also the type to forget about everything around her when her interests came up in conversation, but it seemed Amaretto had more experience in this area as well. “Miss Amaretto,” Col called. She had hurriedly unfolded the map and glued her face to the page to stare at it, and her head snapped up when she heard her name. “We may have quite a lot of information that you want.” Similar to how Le Roi traded with other booksellers, information could be used as a currency. If Amaretto never intended to predict an eclipse in the first place, then what was she doing in Wobern? Why did the Ruvik Alliance want to get her away from Wobern? The value of all they had heard about the Moon-Hunting Bear thus far on their journey had to be enough to pay for the answers to those questions. “What were you researching in Wobern to begin with?” Col asked. Amaretto looked at him. She stared at him like a child might with her large black eyes. Her earnest expression made her seem like a child telling an adult about the ghost they saw the night before. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” However, her simple objection made it clear she was no innocent child. She must have been painfully aware of what most laypersons thought about staring at the stars every night. And so Col said— “We once encountered a ghost ship carrying human bones.” It was less to win Amaretto’s trust, and more to ease her worries. Because this girl was just like Myuri when she became obsessed with enchanting stories. “What…? What on earth? A ghost ship?” “The truth was it was a smuggling ship. If you’d like to know more, you will have to help us out a little.” It was not so much the curious Amaretto could not ignore the bait—it was more that she realized that Col and the others were people who could understand her. “Fine, fine. Stories of the Moon-Hunting Bear still live on in that mountain region. I went there to do research. I don’t really want to tell you why I’m looking into the Moon-Hunting Bear, but my mother was an astrologer, and fate connected her to it.” Myuri held her breath at the word fate. Astronomers and astrologers were two sides of the same coin. What if Amaretto’s mother was not human, or part of a nonhuman bloodline? Col exchanged glances with Myuri and Amaretto and then asked, “Have you ever seen the Moon-Hunting Bear?” He chose his words carefully, and Amaretto responded with a shrug. “In a sense.” “What?!” “You’ve probably seen shooting stars before, right?” Col did not understand how this was connected. His confusion must have been obvious. Amaretto made the sort of face experts often made when talking to the ignorant masses. Or perhaps the real reason she seemed that way was because she did not think anyone else would care about such a story. “The Moon-Hunting Bear is a fairy tale. It’s a metaphor for shooting stars.” “……” The Moon-Hunting Bear. The bear that hunted the moon. It reached up into the night sky and lashed out at the moon. And when struck, the moon…slid across the night sky? Then this massive heavenly body fell to the earth, putting an end to the era of spirits? Col was enticed by the suggestion, but when Amaretto looked at him, she wore a dubious expression. “You’re kidding, right? Did you honestly think the Moon-Hunting Bear actually existed?” How Col wished he could say, You do realize you have an enormous sheep spirit and a girl who inherited a wolf’s blood standing before you, right? but he resisted temptation. And the golden sheep of the Winfiel Kingdom had indeed told them stories of when he had escaped the Moon-Hunting Bear. The Moon-Hunting Bear had existed at one point in time. “So you’re saying a star fell in those mountains, and that’s where they built the city?” Myuri’s words were like careful steps on a snowy mountain path. Canaan had also told them that Wobern sat on a perfectly flat basin—it could very well have been the scar from a blow that originated in the heavens. Amaretto then grinned defiantly, seemingly glad they were quick on the uptake. “That’s what you’d assume at first when looking at the geography, right? But I don’t think that’s the case. Because there are absolutely no stories of anything resembling that passed down in Wobern tradition.” “……” Myuri’s face scrunched up into a frown, and that reaction seemed to delight Amaretto. It was unlikely she had many people who would take what she said seriously to begin with. “So I was wrong, in a sense, but when the king of Wobern asked why I came to research the land and proceeded to ask for my help, I said yes almost immediately.” But as Amaretto spoke, the energy quickly sapped from her face. All that was left in its place was a small, tired smile. “Eccentric nobles aren’t uncommon, so that’s all I thought he was. But it didn’t take long for me to realize what this really was.” Amaretto folded her legs under her as she sat on her bed and shrugged her shoulders. She wore the face of one who was inexperienced in the world, as though a merchant at a market had put a counterfeit item in her hands. “I guess the king just assumed I was researching the eclipse. Probably because it’s called the Moon-Hunting Bear.” She lifted her hand in the air, pretending she was hunting the stars. If those stars were to glide across the sky, then they would be called shooting stars; if they were to suddenly vanish from the sky, then that phenomenon came with a different name. Eclipse. “He even commissioned really nice observation instruments for me, but by the time I realized what he was thinking as I was doing my research, it was too late. That room can only be locked from the outside, you see.” To keep her from running away. She was the prince-elector’s last hope. Amaretto had been asked to do the impossible and then locked away. “So it was a lifesaver when the Ruvik Alliance proposed sneaking you out, was it?” Ilenia asked. “Obviously,” Amaretto shrugged. “There’s no way I could’ve gotten out of those mountains on my own. I said I’d do anything so long as they got me out of there, and so I left.” The Ruvik Alliance did not see Wobern as a place where they could line their pockets, so they likely wanted to avoid Prince-Elector Duran regaining any sort of authority. And it was just a guess, but there were likely conspirators in the court keeping an eye on the prince-elector’s movements. Did that then mean the alliance did not have the Church’s backing, and there was no grand plot for the Church to restore their lost power? Amaretto did not seem to be lying when she told them how she managed to escape from Wobern. Col believed this was the case since neither Ilenia nor Myuri seemed suspicious of her. “But you found me instead,” Amaretto said blankly. “Would you consider…letting me go?” Her obsequious smile may have been a front she was mustering with all she had. Normally, running from a ruler’s request, even if it was a nigh-impossible ask, would only lead one down a path of harsh punishment. Col, of course, had no intention of watching that happen to Amaretto. But there were many things he had to consider. As he and Ilenia, who was also considering her options as he was, exchanged glances, Amaretto seemed to finally believe they were not loyal hounds of the prince-elector. With a look of relief, she said, “I’m not really interested in watching the moment my fate’s decided for me, so would you mind if I watched the stars until then? You know, it’s been so cloudy for these past few days, but I think it’s supposed to clear up tonight.” She pointed upstairs. Col sympathized with her, so he nodded. “Not at all. While the prince-elector has asked us to take on this job, we are not your enemy. You have nothing to worry about.” She offered an almost tearful smile and said, “Thank you.” As Col watched her climb the ladder, Ilenia gave a slow exhale. “What shall we do?” she asked. If they were to believe Amaretto, then that meant there was nothing at all they could bring back to the prince-elector. She had not been researching any eclipse to begin with. Yet if he wanted to obtain an obligation from the prince-elector, he should bring Amaretto back. However, he did not believe that was the just decision. Even if Prince-Elector Duran did not punish Amaretto, Col doubted he would let her go. She would likely be locked away in that tower again, and he would continue to expect a prediction for the eclipse. But Amaretto herself made it very clear that was not something she could do to begin with. “If she can’t predict the eclipse, then we have no reason to force her to go back,” Col said. “Rather, I believe we should not take her back, considering her safety.” He had heard enough stories to know that not being able to live up to a powerful individual’s expectations typically meant a trip to the guillotine. “I suppose all that’s left is deciding what you want to do, Miss Ilenia.” Ilenia rubbed her chin. “I want her help, since she has knowledge of the stars. And it seems like she’s been enthusiastic in her research of the Moon-Hunting Bear, so that would be a big help for us as well.” They had been told the Moon-Hunting Bear ventured beyond the edge of the western sea, and its footprints remained at the bottom of the ocean. The new continent, which was also said to exist beyond the edge of the western sea, seemed to be closely related to the Moon-Hunting Bear, but the bear was still shrouded in mystery, so there was good reason to keep looking into the myth. “The problem is,” Ilenia continued, “what to do with Amaretto once we do take her from here. The alliance will doubtlessly think the prince-elector has recaptured her. And then let’s say the alliance makes their way to Wobern to get her back. As a result, the prince-elector would naturally learn that we found her.” “…This will get sticky very fast, I see.” The world would view this as the Twilight Cardinal betraying Prince-Elector Duran. And once word of this reached the other prince-electors and those in power, that would tell them the Twilight Cardinal was not to be trusted. A dark shadow would be cast over his plan to find allies in his fight against the Church. “Which means taking Miss Amaretto back presupposes we would be trying to sway the prince-elector…right?” “Yes, but I believe you would be able to persuade him, Col. If what she told us was true, then he must truly be grasping at straws in the water—or grasping at stars in the sky. If you told him the Twilight Cardinal would support him in his fight to defend his crown, then he may give up on clinging to nonsense.” Ilenia seemed proud of herself for saying grasping at stars, perhaps as her way of attempting to lighten the mood. And the reason Prince-Elector Duran wanted the prediction of the eclipse was because his authority was like torchlight in a storm. And Myuri had already essentially said the same thing, but from a different direction. The Twilight Cardinal should be the one to prophesize the eclipse, and then support the prince-elector once he does. So even if there was no eclipse prediction, Prince-Elector Duran may allow Amaretto to accompany them without question if the Twilight Cardinal promised to support him politically. “But,” Ilenia began. “It takes quite a lot of work to pull a sinking ship back to the surface.” Her eyes were not that of the kind sheep, but that of a coldhearted merchant. Ilenia had made deals that spanned vast swathes of land as a wool broker, so she had seen the rise and fall of many of those in power. And with that in mind, she was of the opinion that restoring a prince-elector’s power would be terribly difficult. And so it was from her overall aura that Col understood what option she truly wanted to take. She wanted to take Amaretto out of here, and then disappear completely. This lord was fated to fall from his throne anyway—if they carelessly reached out a helping hand, they would only get dragged down with him. Any merchant Eve had taken a liking to would naturally assume that without the backing of both the eclipse prediction and the Twilight Cardinal, that poor lord will face his downfall sooner than later. Once he did, the reality that the Twilight Cardinal had betrayed him by absconding with Amaretto would all vanish like mist. “I understand the logic, but…” Prince-Elector Duran was at the end of his rope, and he had placed his final hope in this young man. Col did not think cutting him off on what was beneficial to him alone was the right thing to do. “Ultimately, I think I—” He stopped in his tracks as he began to speak. Myuri, who had been quiet until this point, suddenly looked up to the ceiling. “Hey, do you hear something?” she asked. “What?” It happened right afterward. There came a terribly heavy thud from above. For a brief moment, he wondered if one of Amaretto’s observation instruments had fallen over. But that was not it—the hatch leading to the upper floor had fallen closed. As Col stood there, bewildered, he heard something drag over the floor, and then another thud. With short breaths Myuri leaped up the ladder and scrambled up it like a squirrel. But the hatch refused to budge. “Hey! What are you doing?! Open up!” She pounded on the hatch, but no answer was forthcoming. Just as he wondered if she was holing herself up, Ilenia moved. “Col,” she murmured, poking her head out of the window to look outside. “She got us.” Myuri leaped down from the ladder to stand beside Ilenia and confirm what was happening. Her ears and tail had appeared when he was not looking, and all her fur stood on end. “Brother.” Myuri pulled the pouch of wheat from under her shirt, her wolf ears alert. Col understood immediately what was going on. What was the first thing Myuri did when she came into this room? She used the light in the lighthouse to send a message to Vadan and his crew while they were still out at sea. They should have been more on guard. A talented astronomer would not be as foolish as a child might be. They had sealed their fate the moment they let her go upstairs simply because she claimed to be scared. While they talked, Amaretto used the light just like Myuri did to send a message to her comrades in town. “The speed tells me those are horses,” Ilenia reported. “I see five…six torches. It won’t take long for them to reach the top of the hill.” Amaretto had pretended to give in by telling them all sorts of things, waiting for her chance to call for help. In her eyes, Col and his party were essentially officials armed with a warrant to arrest her. What he should have trusted was the solid proof she had already allied herself with the Ruvik Alliance. “What should we do, Brother?” Despite the question, Col did not act right away. It was not because his heart was hurting from Amaretto’s betrayal or any other emotional reason. He was simply weighing the scales. If Amaretto had an eclipse prediction, then they had to secure her person somehow, even if it meant inviting all sorts of danger. If the Church got the date through the Ruvik Alliance, it would put Col and his comrades at a terrible disadvantage in their fight against the Church. But if she did not, then he did not have the confidence it was worthwhile to bring Amaretto along with them, especially if that meant risking all-out conflict with the Ruvik Alliance. If the alliance had been holding her against her will, then they could have considered forcefully taking her with them. But Amaretto had deceived them and called for help from the alliance. Which meant letting the astronomer go here would ultimately result in less chaos and would be the safest thing for her. Even if they dragged Amaretto back, despite her insistence there was no eclipse prediction, the prince-elector may very well continue to cling to the possibility, no matter how remote. Nor could Col ignore the possibility the prince-elector would not listen to him and force Amaretto to name the date of an eclipse she had no way of predicting. There were a number of possibilities, and some would doubtlessly bring on consequences that were as dark as a bottomless swamp. He had no presumptions he would be able to choose the perfect answer—only God could do such a thing. But he should absolutely do everything he could. “We should—” Give up on Amaretto and run. That was what he was going to say when a terrifying thought crossed his mind. Amaretto tricked him to contact her allies. Did that mean everything she had told them was also a lie? “What if…the eclipse…” It was a bit circular at this point, but if this gamble backfired on them, then things would unfold in a way they would not be able to fix. Prophesizing a heavenly body vanishing from the sky was enough to turn a beggar into a sage. Though the Church’s authority was unstable at the moment, they could instantly gain the people’s trust and make it known to the masses who exactly represented God’s providence on this earth. How easily they could kick aside the young and inexperienced Twilight Cardinal. Were the scales not meant to tip in this direction? Here he saw a new answer. But— “Col.” Ilenia placed a hand on his shoulder. “There is one absolute rule among merchants: finding good products is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Buy it first, then think of the consequences later.” Eve had hired this broker herself. Now, of all times, Ilenia wore a confident but kind smile. It was also the smile of a gambler, who had placed a great shipment of wool onboard a boat only for it to get caught in a storm. Though she called herself only a “little” older than Myuri, he could tell by her steely nerves that was an absolute lie. That, and Col had learned an important lesson at Ohlburg. He would get nothing done if he was preoccupied with not getting dirty. The right thing alone could not remain so, so long as it existed in this world. There were moments where he would have to forcefully draw righteousness to him. And what he lacked was force. “And that means, this gamble—” Col swallowed his words and his breath, and then spoke again as though in prayer. “Myuri, can I ask you to take care of the men downstairs?” The restless wolf girl rounded her eyes and bared her fangs. “’Course you can!” She immediately began stripping off her clothes. “Miss Ilenia, the ceiling?” “Of course. I would ask you to retreat down the stairs. It may collapse.” As she rolled up her sleeves, she still looked nothing more than a lithe maiden, but rough ram horns had, at some point, appeared from her fluffy hair, and her eyes had become much sharper. Her true form was that of a sheep massive enough to overturn the office building of a villainous company. “C’mon, Brother!” He turned around to see Myuri in her wolf form, tugging at the hem of his clothes with her teeth. Perhaps she was in a bad mood because he had spent a little too long looking at Ilenia. He collected Myuri’s scattered clothes and headed down the stairs as she urged him along. When he turned around, one last time, Ilenia had grabbed the ladder with both hands and was about to ram the ceiling with it. Just as Col and Myuri went down about one story on the spiral staircase, there came a low rumble from above that resonated in the pit of his stomach. Myuri had already made her way down to the first floor like the wind. From below came the sounds of horses whinnying, men yelling, and people reaching the metal door. There was nothing Col could do now but pray to God that none would be injured. Brazen yelling became shouts of surprise, then screams of fear—they arose and faded one after another, like a play on a street corner, and then things fell silent. Col felt a presence above him and lifted his head to see Ilenia, something wrapped in bed linens slung over her shoulder. “Mmmh! Mmmh!” The wails came from the wrapped bundle like she had just remembered she could scream—they clearly belonged to Amaretto. Regardless of being a sheep spirit, Ilenia likely was used to heavy lifting, considering she was always dealing with heavy wool and occasionally had to hold back wild sheep. The delighted smile on her face was truly reassuring, but also a bit terrifying. “It seems they’re finished downstairs. I’ve contacted the ship. They should be coming to pick us up at the beach, so let’s get going.” As they came downstairs, they found Myuri sitting at the door, proud of herself, and happy the mice were praising her. Her ears alone turned to him and Ilenia; she scratched at her neck with a hind paw before standing up and shoving her face at Col, begging to be praised. She doubtlessly acted as she normally would have, but she was the size of a bear in her wolf form. Even if she was just playing, that was more than enough to knock him over. He used all his strength to push her back, but that only caused her to wag her tail, expecting him to do it again. In the meantime, the mice held rope in their mouths and scurried over the men’s bodies, deftly binding them. They had clearly done this before, as a sailor might do. “Mmmh!” As Amaretto wailed, they left the lighthouse. Vadan himself was on the little boat waiting for them on the beach. He was briefly surprised when he saw the bundle on Ilenia’s shoulder, but he only shrugged and sighed. “Things got noisy out by the harbor. I figured that’s what happened.” “I wish we had managed to sort this out peaceably,” Col lamented. Vadan snorted at him, probably because he thought Col sounded disingenuous. Amaretto, still bundled up, was laid on the bottom of the boat and did not move at all once they launched from the beach. Either she was frozen in fear or she was consciously trying to keep her breathing quiet out of worry for her own life. The truth turned out to be neither. This only became obvious when they moved from the boat to the main ship and undid the binding over her face. “Are you gonna throw me at the feet of the king?” Her defiant gaze was sharp enough to be a threat—she was going to bite if they were not careful and got too close. If Col had been in this situation before he began this journey, he would have been at a loss in his fear. Instead, he knelt before Amaretto and faced her gaze head-on, something he could do because he had experience behind him. “We had no choice but to capture you because you called for reinforcements from the Ruvik Alliance.” “……” Amaretto looked away, doubtful. Of course, he knew, from her point of view, that had been the logical choice. “We do not want to betray Prince-Elector Duran,” Col continued. “But we do not see it as a necessity to bring you back to him.” “Hah!” she snorted. “And what can a measly errand boy like you do?” Despite how she seemed like an unreliable bookworm who preferred to stay cooped up in the library when she sat on her bed, Amaretto was now showing quite a lot of backbone. The trade of an astronomer was not an easy one without the backing of a church or noble blood. Amaretto had her hackles up, like a stray dog. Myuri, now back in her human form, opened her mouth to say something, but Col held up his hand to stop her. “My name is Tote Col.” “Okay? And what does that have to do wi—” Amaretto stopped; the expression on her face made it seem as though she had seen something odd out of the corner of her eye. “I have another name. The Twilight Cardinal.” “……” Amaretto held her breath, her mouth agape. Myuri, beside her, folded her arms and puffed out her chest, smug. Col pretended not to see her. But the scowl soon returned to Amaretto’s face. “You—you think you can trick me with such an obvious lie?” Col thought the development here was a bit ironic, considering how blindly the people in the Town of Hope, Ohlburg, believed the imposter to be real, but this was how reality was. “Your doubt is perfectly understandable. I, myself, am still not used to the title yet.” Either the way he let his shoulders fall was wildly convincing, or his claim was too brazen to be a lie—whatever the reason, the doubt quickly vanished from Amaretto’s expression. “But I do believe the fact I am the Twilight Cardinal is a very good thing for you in your current situation.” Amaretto, still bound, flinched, as though he had poked her in a sore spot. “Because if I were a nobody, I would not be able to report to Prince-Elector Duran. I would quietly hand you over, and then not care what happens afterward. I would simply get my reward and head for the tavern. And not long after, you would be taken to the guillotine.” “Your head would fly off your shoulders like a shooting star!” Myuri threatened. Col sighed and glanced over to Ilenia, who was watching from a short distance away. Ilenia understood what he wanted and she led Myuri away with a smile. “Well?” Col asked. Amaretto dropped her gaze. “Miss Amaretto, this whole situation has grown complicated due to the possibility you might be able to truly predict the eclipse. So…” He paused and sunk to both knees; he stared straight at her, as though he were encouraging a criminal to confess. “Can you predict the eclipse? Or can you not?” Of course, he was not so naive to believe she would answer honestly. His belief, instead, rested on her smarts and her strength. If she had an appropriate understanding of the situation, she would know how she should act. She should be able to tell who she needed to trust here. Amaretto’s gaze dropped, and she fell into thought. Then she said slowly, “No one believes what I say.” It did not sound like a sharp ending remark made in desperation. In her words he sensed weighty emotions that had built up over a long, long time. This girl was an astronomer chasing after a bizarre fairy tale. Col remembered what they spoke about in the lighthouse. “Is this related to your mother?” Amaretto said her mother was an astrologer. Astrologers and astronomers were two sides of the same coin. But the space in between the two faces of that coin was enough to divide them between proper believers and heretics. “What, are you gonna burn me at the inquisitor’s stake, too?” Behind Amaretto’s aggressive smile was a clear view of her past. And at the same time, Col caught a glimpse of why she was so attached to the story of the Moon-Hunting Bear. “Your mother must have caught the eye of an inquisitor by telling fortunes with shooting stars or something like that, yes?” Some nights, over some village, one could see stars streaking through the sky. Some regions saw this as good luck, and others saw it as bad—but the ones generally making that decision were the clergy. But in the most remote places, a church may only have drunkard, uneducated priests who did not know what the stars meant. And in times like those, they turned to the village fortune-tellers. Households without men to work occasionally made a living through occult practices using fortunes and herbs. Such places were a hotbed for heresy and paganism, but it was still necessary work even now in places where the Church’s teachings could not reach. “Hah! And what if she did? You want me to praise you for how smart you are?” “I want to help you just as much as I want to help Prince-Elector Duran. But I cannot do that if I don’t know what the truth is.” The most difficult thing was that Amaretto had already lied to them, acted falsely, and tricked everyone, not only him. The Twilight Cardinal imposter at Ohlburg, the Town of Hope, was clearly a fake. But lies that came from a person’s heart were not so easily discerned. Especially if those lies were meant to protect oneself, or to protect other things from a painful past—that only made it even more difficult to tell if a person could be trusted or not. “Miss Amaretto.” When Col said her name that time, it was the first time she looked frightened. That was likely not because she knew her fate hung in the balance in this moment. It was because she realized she was not sure what words might come out, even if she were to ask for help. “The Moon-Hunting Bear.” There came an odd interjection. It was not Amaretto who said it. It was Myuri, whom Ilenia was meant to have taken away. “You really were going after the Moon-Hunting Bear, right?” Amaretto was more shocked than Col was. She stared back at Myuri. “You weren’t lying about going deep into the mountains and going around searching for something, right? Anyone can tell the mercenary king doesn’t live up to anyone’s expectations as a king. You had no reason to go out of your way to curry favor with him using something as awe-inspiring as an eclipse forecast as bait. Which means…” Myuri let her arms drop. “You were really going after the Moon-Hunting Bear. Right?” Back at the lighthouse, Myuri had intended to corner Amaretto only for that to be turned on its head, and she had been caught off guard instead. Now she was speaking in a high-handed manner, as though airing out her resentment. “I noticed something else that was kind of weird. Just because you were so passionate about the Moon-Hunting Bear, would that mercenary king still be taken in by your story and think, Huh, maybe I’ll lock her in my tower?” That drew Ilenia’s attention. “He’s not like my brother, whose first thought is always locking girls away.” Myuri turned a cold eye to Col. When their gazes met, she smiled. It seemed she still held a grudge against him for tying her to a chair to force her to read and write. “And you said the people in those mountains didn’t have any stories about the Moon-Hunting Bear anymore. I thought that was weird. Because then where are you looking for those stories?” Exactly. That was it. “And what kind of stories were they? Were they enough to confuse the mercenary king and cause him to reach for stars that don’t even exist?” Myuri leaned in close to ask her questions, but Amaretto said nothing in return. But she did not flinch or lean back; she let Myuri stare at her. Myuri was the most spirited of all the children in Nyohhira, and of course, she was great at staring contests. The moment Col thought they would stare at each other, unblinking, forevermore, the ship shuddered violently. They had started encountering big waves offshore. If they remained on the deck, Vadan and his crew would not be able to work in earnest with Amaretto watching, and they would only get in the crew’s way. As Col tried to encourage everyone to go below deck, Amaretto spoke up. “I can’t predict an eclipse, and I’m not interested in doing so.” Col and Myuri looked to her in surprise, but Amaretto still did not look up. She continued, her speech faltering. “My goal…is to find the star that belonged—no, that the Moon-Hunting Bear chased after.” Col had once heard the best scammers were the ones who genuinely believed their own lies. Perhaps it was in that regard the imposter in Ohlburg, the Town of Hope, was second-rate. When Amaretto lifted her head, she looked straight at Myuri. There was a fortitude in Amaretto’s eyes. When Myuri saw it, she looked like a hound that had been shown a nice tree branch. “What does that mean?!” Just as it seemed her ears and tail might pop out, the ship shuddered again. “Damn it, we’re being followed!” Vadan shouted from the rudder. Myuri’s eyes went wide. “Even though they were tied up so tight?!” “They were likely not the only ones standing by,” Col said. “They must be others who guessed that anyone who might come to take Miss Amaretto away would make landfall somewhere besides the port.” This was an alliance of cunning merchants. It was impossible to outrun them forever. “Their boat is small and full of rowers! They’re gonna catch up to us!” Vadan’s words told them to take Amaretto below deck. Not all of his crew could take human form, and he needed all mice on deck in order to sail at full speed. Naturally, this was not something they could let Amaretto see. Ilenia moved straight away, hoisting the bound girl over her shoulder. Despite her position, Amaretto looked at Myuri and said one more thing. “I went looking for the star the Moon-Hunting Bear hunted. The Moon-Hunting Bear isn’t just a story made up by the pagans. I’m going to…I’m going to prove my mother wasn’t a liar!” She twisted, but not to escape Ilenia’s grasp. She was shaking off the dark past that clung to her being. Amaretto’s mother had been asked about the meaning of shooting stars and told some sort of fortune. Either the villagers took it badly or it landed in the lap of an intolerant member of the clergy, after which her fate took a dark turn. Amaretto must have yelled in the same way she did now when her mother was being taken away. But could Col trust that this, too, was not an act? All of them had been fooled by her innocent act at the lighthouse. But— “Tell us.” Col and Myuri stood side by side before Amaretto, as she rested over Ilenia’s shoulder. Because if he were to doubt Amaretto here, then he had no business aspiring to be a priest. “Why did you come to Wobern?” Amaretto’s face twisted, and at last, she burst into tears. The way she cried made her look much younger than she seemed at first glance—they were, perhaps, tears she should have shed a long, long time ago. These were the tears for when her mother was taken away by an inquisitor for the crime of providing for them both by divining fortunes from the stars. “I—I…” She could no longer change the past, but she could draw her own future closer. But in order to do that, she first had to overcome the present. “Col, Myuri, take Amaretto for me,” Ilenia said, Amaretto still on her shoulder. She saw Vadan was giving his crew new orders. She let down the sobbing girl and said calmly, “The enemy ship is catching up to us. Our boat may sway quite a bit, so please be careful.” Col did not ask what she meant by that. If Ilenia put her mind to it, she could reduce the approaching ship to splinters and bits of debris in the dark of night. Myuri used the sword at her hip to cut the bindings. She and Col helped Amaretto below deck. And just in case, he closed the hatch behind them.
Chapter 132
55 min read