The milky white light filled the hall. Murmurs arose here and there in the crowd, expressions of surprise.
“This guy is something else,” Kyoya said, in honest admiration.
This was the kind of edifice built in ancient times by absolute monarchs. The stone pillars rose up like a forest of trees. Beyond the “trees,” water sparkled in a man-made lake. In the lake floated a small, swan-like boat, against a background of endless green and a deep blue sky.
The columns, the floor, the great statues of ancient gods found here and there—all were carved with extraordinary artistry and skill. The effect was truly as if they had stumbled into an enchanted castle. What kept it from descending into a child’s fairy tale was the ghostly aura that ruled the hall.
“Look at the ceiling. From the outside, it’s no more than thirty feet high. From this perspective, it goes on forever.”
Sayaka’s amazement was shared by Kyoya. “I’m not surprised, considering what else he’s built here. Seems the master of this place can manipulate space in four dimensions.”
“Neat.”
“No idea what’s going to show up next, but in any case it’s probably gonna be out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault,” Kyoya quickly added.
Though they entered the grounds without any trouble, what awaited them weighed heavily on their hearts. It was hard to say how far the swing of a wooden sword would take them.
The noise of the crowd suddenly ceased. A warning sound reverberated around them. It arose from a big statue of a god on their left.
“Open your mouths!”
The words rang forth in a chorus of voices. Before the echoes had died away, from the mouth of the old god a human shadow burst forth and landed with perfect timing on the right palm of the hands that had been till then folded across its chest.
But more startling than the style of his arrival was the face rising out of the metallic gown. The man was wearing a golden mask.
Slits in the mask revealed the eyes and mouth. The eyes inside, clear and dark and cold, sent a shiver down the spine. The crowd composed itself and fell silent.
“Welcome to my home,” spoke that same, undeniable voice. “First of all, I would like to thank you again. All those invited are, according to their stated names, here in attendance. Those assembled here today shall experience the kind of joys that can be known in the world below. However, only those I have actually invited.”
An agitated ripple ran through the people. The masked man raised his hands and quelled the uproar, hands that looked altogether human.
“Unfortunately, those whom I would have otherwise held in affection and esteem have not only forged their names, but altered their appearances and injected a criminal element into these celebrations. I shall only open the door of my beloved home to those whom I love.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than came the flapping of wings overhead. A woman screamed. A black silhouette descended and took a firm hold of her shoulders. The wings beat the air again, and another noise arose, that of several bodies being borne aloft.
The problem was not so much what was being dragged, but what was doing the dragging. A blue beast with gray wings, a smaller member of the species that was known in the old fairy tales as a gremlin. The yard-long creatures picked up full-grown adults and took off for the distant ceiling.
Though there weren’t that many gremlins, they were efficient porters and their uncanny strength was more than enough. The number of people in attendance diminished in a flash.
“Rest assured,” the masked man said blithely. “They will be returned unharmed to the ground. I have no need for pretenders here. To those who remain I will reveal the wonders of my home. Come. The party begins.”
The several dozen left—the stand-ins and pretenders and guards having been whisked away—swayed back and forth. The floor beneath their feet was moving. However it looked like granite, it was a flowing substance like that ribbon of light stretched out beneath them. Like a moving sidewalk, only infinitely more pleasant.
“Where are we going?” asked Sayaka.
“I guess to the party,” Kyoya answered blandly. He was ready to leave now. Some guy in a mask and his weird mansion didn’t much pique his interest. He’d rather be home munching on senbei and reading manga.
Moving between a giant stone pillar and a statue, the sidewalk brought them to another hall. They passed through an open gate without any doors. A ripple ran through the throng.
They were definitely in a banquet hall. Countless tables piled with strange delicacies, foods that none of them had seen before. And standing at attention around them, hostesses in revealing dresses and waiters wearing tuxedos and sparkling smiles, so pretty and handsome that a passerby would want to stop and hug them.
But what drew exclamations of wonder from the mouths of the guests was the great basin in the middle of the hall. It was fifteen feet deep, the bottom covered with bare earth. The oval of at least four hundred square yards looked like a small sports arena.
“Well, everybody, let us begin with a light repast,” said the masked lord of the mansion, having at some point already arrived. “Three hundred became a thousand, and then a mere fifty. Disappointing, yes, but a hundred fakes cannot equal one real diamond. Besides—”
He glanced over the assembled group, his eyes focusing on Kyoya and Sayaka. Sayaka felt a cold chill down her spine—as if the eyes of the masked man were boring into her heart.
The enigmatic look soon turned away. As if calming the concerns of all those assembled, the masked man said in a dignified voice, “My wishes will soon be fulfilled. In the meantime, please, eat and enjoy.”
The dinner began. The cuisine could be described as nothing short of miraculous.
“What ingredients is he using?” a world-famous food critic wondered out loud. “I can’t help feeling envious.”
“No idea. How does he bring out such flavors? The seasoning? The oil? What era does this cooking come from?” That was the chef at a five-star hotel, combing his fingers through his white hair.
“It tastes so good,” Sayaka practically squealed.
Watching her with a disinterested expression, Kyoya scanned their surroundings, his eyes lighting up as he saw the masked man approaching.
“It is so nice to see you here,” he said with a polite bow. The greeting did not come across as the usual condescension to their youth, but as true courtesy.