Chapter 4

FOUR KAZALUMU, THE ROYAL BEAST SANCTUARY 1 JOEUN’S SON The foal staggered up onto spindly legs and thrust its head under its mother’s belly. Butting its nose against her teat, it began guzzling milk. Joeun’s face relaxed. He glanced at Elin where she stood beside the foal. “Thank goodness that’s over,” he said. “They should be all right now.” He had been reluctant for the mare to foal, but Elin had insisted that it wasn’t fair to prevent Totchi from experiencing motherhood. She now had three hives of her own, and the income from the honey they produced was hers. When Joeun learned that she had set aside enough to pay for a stallion to service the mare, he finally relented. The owner of the horse Joeun borrowed each summer came to help them when Totchi’s time drew near. It was just bad luck that on the very day the mare went into labor, the farmer’s son had cut himself with a hoe. Joeun and Elin had been up all night trying inexpertly to help with the mare’s first foaling. “You’ve got straw in your hair,” Joeun said. Elin smiled and reached up to pull a wisp of straw from her head. She had grown considerably taller in the last four years. Although her limbs were still as thin as sticks, her slim figure was becoming more feminine. Joeun watched her as she smiled fondly at the foal and its mother, and realized once again that she was changing from a child into a woman. Each time he noticed, he worried that the absence of a mother in her life might be a bad thing. She did not seem aware that she was steadily climbing the ladder to womanhood. Although old enough to wear her hair up, she still cut it in a shoulder-length bob, and she insisted on making her clothes from his hand-me-downs because, as she put it, “I won’t have to worry about getting my clothes dirty.” Looking at other girls her age in town, he worried that he had failed to raise Elin properly. But how could he help her be like them when he had never raised a daughter of his own? If she was still like this when she reached marriageable age, he wondered if she would ever find happiness. Though not beautiful, her features were fresh and pleasing. Yet she had a certain air that kept others at a distance, and when lost in thought, her stillness—like a lake deep in the mountains—made it hard to believe she was only fourteen. Still, she was never moody, and her smile was like a ray of sunshine that pierced the clouds and lit up the world around her. “You must be tired,” Joeun said. “Go wash up and get some sleep.” Elin shook her head. “I want to stay a bit longer. You should get some rest yourself.” Joeun stretched, with a groan. “All right, I will then. I must be getting old. When I was younger, missing a night’s sleep never bothered me … Don’t overdo it though, Elin.” She nodded and began rubbing the sweat gently from Totchi’s neck. Joeun stepped out of the stable into the brilliant sunshine and drew in a deep breath of spring air fragrant with the scent of warm earth and soft green buds. At that moment, a fierce pain shot from his chest to his back. It was as if someone had clamped his heart in an iron fist and was squeezing it tight. Unable to breathe, he clasped his hands to his chest and fell to his knees in the grass. Cold beads of sweat dripped down his face as he struggled against the pain. Slowly the agony dissipated, but the dark cloud of fear that spread through his breast in its wake kept him on his knees. The pain he had just experienced was no trifling matter. Recently, he had noticed his heart racing at times, for no reason, and occasionally felt short of breath or a pressure in his chest. But that violent pain had been a clear warning that something was wrong. He put his hands on his knees and rose slowly to his feet, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his hand. Perhaps I’m getting closer to the end than I thought. Will death come for me like that, suddenly, without warning? He stood numbly in the yard bathed in spring light. If it does, what will happen to Elin? Though mature for her age, she was still a child. He pressed a hand to his mouth and closed his eyes. He could see all too vividly the bleak future that awaited a girl as young as her if she were cast out into the world without a protector. He had better consider to whom he could entrust her care when he died. He had expected to have more time than this, but clearly he had better think about it now, and without delay. He opened his eyes and crossed the yard with heavy steps. As he went round the corner of his house, he was startled by the sound of a horse snorting. Someone was standing in front of the door—a young man, dressed in clothes that would normally be seen only in the capital. At the sight of his face, Joeun stopped in his tracks. “Asan…” A frown creased the young man’s forehead. The two stood motionless, staring at one another. Finally the young man spoke. “Hello, Father.” When Elin met the young man who was Joeun’s son, she saw in his face an old, familiar expression—the one she had seen on her grandfather’s face every time he had looked at her or her mother, a mask that concealed the same thought. What is an Ahlyo doing here, acting as if she were kin? She bowed her head to the floor in formal greeting. “Pleased to meet you,” she said. “I’m Elin.” Asan nodded brusquely and then turned to speak with Joeun without addressing a single word to her. “Father, please think it over. Mother and I aren’t the only ones who have been waiting all this time for your reputation to be restored. The teachers and students at the school are longing for you to return, too.” Joeun sat with his head bowed and stared at the floor without responding. “Tosalielu has agreed to restore your honor. This is a wonderful opportunity. Takalan has been ruined, charged with treason against the Yojeh. He’ll never meddle in the affairs of the school again. Please, Father! Come back. It’s what everyone wants!” Joeun raised his head and gazed at his son. “Would you give me some time to think about it?” Asan scowled. “But, Father! What’s there to think about? You were the headmaster of the most prestigious school in the kingdom. Do you intend to live out the rest of your life secluded in the mountains like this?” A trace of a smile crossed Joeun’s face as he regarded his son. With an exasperated look, Asan thrust his chin in Elin’s direction. “If you’re worried about the girl, I’ll convince Mother for you. We can take her in until she comes of age and then find her a husband from the artisan class. As a foster daughter of the Tohsana family, she should have no problem making a match.” Joeun turned his eyes on Elin. She looked down and did not meet his gaze. He remained silent for a long time, but when he spoke, it was only to say once again, “Let me think about it.” Asan left, promising to return in ten days’ time. After calmly finishing the day’s work and clearing up after supper, Elin slipped out of the house and went into the stable. She hung the lantern she carried on a post, and the foal blinked as though dazzled. It was already surprisingly steady on its legs. Totchi nuzzled it lovingly. As Elin stood leaning against the railing, gazing at the pair, she heard footsteps. Joeun came up beside her and rested his elbows on the top of the railing. The two stood silently for some time just watching the foal with its dam. Finally, Joeun broke the silence. “Forgive Asan, Elin. He has never lived anywhere but the school in the capital. He’s an honest man, but he cares a bit too much about honor and rank…” Elin turned to look at him. “You were the headmaster of a school?” Joeun smiled. “I never told you, did I?… I guess because when I met you, I felt that I was starting my life over. I decided then and there to forget the twenty years I had spent as a teacher and the other twelve as headmaster at Tamuyuan, the school for boys of the skilled artisan class. I made up my mind to spend the rest of my days as an ordinary beekeeper, adopting the speech and attitudes of a peasant.” He paused to rub a hand over the old scar on his chin and then continued quietly. “I like teaching children. I didn’t become a teacher just to follow in my father’s footsteps. For me, it was a calling. Of course, because I liked it, I was passionate about it. I’m pretty sure I was considered a good teacher. Otherwise, why would I be appointed headmaster at only forty years of age? Everything in my life seemed perfect … until that one incident.” Joeun shifted his eyes to the foal without seeing it. “A teacher should treat each pupil fairly. But teachers are only human. It’s hard not to give more attention to students who excel at their studies, especially if they are good people. One of my students was a boy named Neekana. He wasn’t from a wealthy family, but he was extremely bright and had a cheerful disposition. One of my other students was Saman, the son of a wealthy bureaucrat named Takalan. I just could not like Saman, even though I knew that as a teacher I should treat all my students equally.” Joeun frowned. “He lied so smoothly, you see, as if he were telling the truth. Cruel lies intended to get others into trouble. He was jealous and had an excessive amount of pride…” He paused, as if to swallow a bitter taste that rose in his mouth. “The marks on the final exams determined whether the young men in the graduating class could assume the job or post that they desired. Saman, of course, intended to become a high-ranking bureaucrat, just like his father. But his marks were far below standard. It was my job to grade the final exams. When Neekana received the highest mark, it made me very happy. He, too, had been aiming to become a bureaucrat, and with that mark, he would have no problem.” Joeun’s mouth twisted. “But the night before the grades were to be announced, Saman and his father came to my house. Saman accused Neekana of threatening him. Neekana, he said, had told him not to answer the questions correctly, that if he got a good grade on the exam, Neekana would tell all Saman’s friends about the lies he had told. I laughed out loud. Neekana was far smarter than Saman. Why on earth would he need to threaten him? The idea was ridiculous. I said as much, although more gently than that, because his father was there. But his father was furious. His son, he insisted, could not possibly be lying. Why would Saman tell a lie that revealed he had deceived other students? He demanded that I fail Neekana and give his son the grade he needed to become a bureaucrat. I refused adamantly.” He closed his lips and fell silent for a moment. Then, forcing the words out, he continued. “That night, Saman killed himself.” Elin looked up at Joeun with a start. There was a darkness in his expression that she had never seen before. “Takalan blamed me. He claimed that if I had believed in his son, Saman would not have killed himself. He said I was unfit to be headmaster of Tamuyuan because I clearly favored Neekana over his son. Prince Tosalielu, who owned the school, had no choice but to dismiss me from my post.” Joeun looked at Elin sardonically. “To be honest, I still think that Saman killed himself out of spite. Governed by his inflated pride, he would have fiercely resented the fact that I didn’t take his words seriously. I think he killed himself to hurt me for not believing him, to make me pay for it … But, Elin, that is precisely the kind of person a teacher really needs to teach.” His eyes were filled with pain. “I did everything I could to protect a capable student, but I abandoned Saman without a second thought, simply because I disliked him. Even after he died, I still could not stand him. And I would certainly have abandoned him again if the gods had turned back time. Knowing that about myself shocked me far more than my dismissal.” Totchi snorted loudly, and Joeun turned his eyes back to the horses. After some time, he spoke again, slowly. “I want to stay here and live with you like this. But, to be honest, I’m torn. The school, like the rest of society, is fraught with power struggles. It can be a pleasant place if you have the backing of a powerful teacher. But those who study under someone like me, under someone who falls from grace, are relegated to the lowest positions in the hierarchy. I wonder whether it is really right for me to pursue my own happiness when my former students may be suffering for my failure.” He turned to face Elin. “Would you mind very much if I were to ask you to live as my foster daughter in the capital?” Elin gazed back at him wordlessly. Joeun wants to go home. He himself had not yet realized it, but to her it was clear. The way he talked had changed when he spoke of his past. She had known this day would come. Over the years, she had come to understand how society worked, and it had become clear to her that Joeun had not been born a beekeeper. The wide range of subjects he taught her every night, even his ability to play the harp, indicated the depth of his knowledge and education. No one from the peasant class would have been permitted to study these things. Although Joeun had never spoken of leaving, Elin had prepared herself long ago for the possibility that they would part. It was not that she had foreseen it. Rather, she had prepared herself in self-defense—so that when the time came, she would not be hurt. Since the day her mother had been torn from her, she had lost any faith that happiness was eternal and unchanging. Change, she knew, was something that came suddenly. But though it might come without warning, she never wanted to taste again the sorrow she had felt at the loss of her mother. She had therefore been careful to keep some distance between herself and Joeun. Had he understood? She loved him. She wanted to live with him forever. But her spirit drooped at the thought of living in the capital with Joeun’s son and family, of feeling like a burden and being married off to some unknown artisan. In her childhood, she had learned all too well what it meant to marry into that class. The only woman in her village who had become an artisan in her own right had been Elin’s mother. If she married one, she would be expected to bear the man’s children, serve him, and take care of his house for the rest of her life. This held no attraction for her at all. She did not want that kind of life, even if refusal meant parting with Joeun and living alone. There’s so much more I want to learn, so many questions I want to find answers for. One of these as yet unanswered questions was why her mother had believed controlling the Toda was such a mortal sin. She had mulled over her mother’s words and recalled the look on her face again and again. Now she thought she could understand, at least a little, what she might have felt. When Elin watched the honeybees or other creatures in the wild, when she observed the diversity of their life cycles and the astounding precision of their habits, there were times when she felt herself become a prick of light in the vastness of the night sky, times when all living things, people, beasts, and insects, dwindled to equal points of light twinkling in the darkness. Having felt the world from that perspective, having held this vision in her mind, there were moments when the practices of a beekeeper struck her as loathsome—especially the way beekeepers made royal jelly. The liquid that the worker bees wrung from their bodies to make a new queen was traded for large sums of money. A teaspoon was worth a small gold piece, and Joeun deftly manipulated the bees to make it. Royal jelly was a good product and a good medicine. That’s why he did it, and, of course, that wasn’t bad. But every time she watched him control the bees, she recalled the dark expression on her mother’s face as she had rolled the Toda Whistle in her palm. Had her mother been feeling the same way, that it was wrong to manipulate other living things? Had she felt herself to be just one of countless pinpricks of light in an infinite expanse of darkness? Had she seen that the Toda, too, were dots of light? Was that why she had felt it was a sin to treat them that way? Why are Toda the way they are? Why are we humans like this? Questions like these teased her mind. Perhaps there were no answers, but she wanted so much to find them. “Uncle Joeun…” she said. “Is there a school in the capital where girls can study?” A look of sadness crossed his face. “There are … but they’re all designed to train girls to be good wives to members of the nobility or high-ranking artisans. Even if you went, I can’t imagine that you would be satisfied with what you learned.” He sighed and shook his head. “If only you were a boy … I don’t know how many times I’ve thought that. If you were a boy, I’d enroll you in Tamuyuan without hesitation, regardless of whether Asan or anyone else objected.” Sometimes daughters of the nobility were permitted to study at Tamuyuan, but very few, and Elin, who came from Ahlyo stock, would certainly not be allowed in. Joeun reached out a hand and stroked her hair. “So you don’t want to come and live with us in the capital?” Elin bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Keeping her head down, she nodded. “I was very happy living with you … I wish we could go on this way. But if that’s not possible … I…” She took a deep breath and went on. “I want to live by myself … I don’t want to live in the capital in your house as a foster child and be married off.” Joeun closed his eyes and nodded once. “Yes. I can see that. You’re not the type of girl who would be happy as the wife of an artisan.” Yet deep inside was the thought that even such a fate was better if it meant Elin would not be left alone when he died. He could not help but feel that his son’s arrival on the very day that he had felt so ill was an act of fate. He sighed again. “What are we to do, I wonder?” From the moment she had met Asan and sensed that the time of parting was near, Elin had been rolling an idea over in her mind. Since that summer four years ago, she had been drawn to the Royal Beasts. Or perhaps obsessed with them was a better description. Every year when she and Joeun returned to the hut in the mountains, she had gone back to the cliff to watch them. Joeun had scolded her countless times, but she could not resist. One day, he had exclaimed in exasperation, “I once knew a woman just like you, who was possessed by these Beasts.” She looked up at him now and said, “Uncle Joeun…” “What?” “You told me once that you knew someone who worked in a sanctuary for Royal Beasts. A woman. You said that she was a beast doctor.” Joeun blinked. “Ah. You mean Esalu, at the Kazalumu Sanctuary. They call it a sanctuary, but it’s really where they take care of injured beasts until they die.” He could see his friend’s face in his mind. She had been admitted to Tamuyuan, even though she came from the lower ranks of the nobility. Sallow-skinned, with angular features, she could not have been called pretty even in flattery, but she had been extremely clever, and the two of them had become fast friends. “Esalu. Hmm.” He frowned and his expression grew thoughtful. “I see. A beast doctor. Yes, that’s a possibility I hadn’t thought of. It’s a high position, but because exposure to blood is defiling, women are allowed to assume that rank. And you might be very well suited to it. “As for Kazalumu Sanctuary, children come from all over the country hoping to become doctors. They study while taking care of the Royal Beasts, so it would really suit you as a place to live.” Even as he said this, however, he still looked concerned. “But it’s a hard job, heavy labor with few rewards. If anything happens to one of the Beasts, the doctor may be blamed … and in some cases, even sentenced to death.” The image of her mother being dragged before the inspector jumped vividly into Elin’s mind, and a cold pain shot through her chest. Yet, almost simultaneously, another image surfaced in her memory—her mother’s pale hand slowly and gently caressing the huge flanks of the Toda, her mother’s face as she gazed at them … Then, like a bright flash of light, she remembered—she had always longed to be like her mother, to gain knowledge, and to use it to help the beasts. I want to become a doctor and care for the Royal Beasts. The thought spread inside her like fire through an open field. She raised her head. “Uncle Joeun, my mother was a beast doctor.” Joeun’s eyes widened. “What?” “But she only treated Toda. I was raised in a village of Toda Stewards in the Tohan district on the western edge of Aluhan territory…” With her eyes cast down, she began to tell him the tale that she had concealed for so long in the depths of her heart. She told him how her mother, who had belonged to the Ahlyo, had wed the eldest son of the village chief and given birth to Elin. For this she had been cast out of the Ahlyo. But because she had excelled at healing, she had been entrusted with the care of the Kiba, the most precious of the Toda herd. When the Kiba were found dead one morning, she had been blamed and sentenced to a brutal death. Elin told him how she had tried to save her mother, but instead had been placed upon a Toda, wrenched away, and carried to this land. Elin told Joeun everything—everything except the fact that her mother had used a finger whistle to control the Toda. Somehow it did not feel right to share that. Joeun listened openmouthed. “So that’s what happened.” He shook his head. “You’ve finally solved that riddle for me. When I found you, you were covered in glue-like mud and Toda slime. I had always wondered how on earth that was possible … Now I see…” Her past had been far more painful and cruel than he had ever imagined. He looked at her steadily. “But if that’s the case, wouldn’t you hate to become a Royal Beast doctor?” Elin shook her head. “No. I loved to watch my mother when she cared for the Toda. She was the best doctor in the village … I always wanted to be like her.” Joeun looked into her clear, shining eyes and nodded. “All right, then. I’ll ask Esalu.” 2 THE ENTRANCE TEST The rain that had fallen incessantly since morning finally ceased when the carriage carrying Elin and Joeun reached the Kazalumu highlands. The clouds chased across the sky by strong winds still glowered darkly, but they were brightening at the edges, and patches of blue sky peeped through the gaps. Cloud shadows flowed across the gently sloping highlands, caressing the meadow. A high fence surrounded the Royal Beast Sanctuary, but its height was barely noticeable in the vast area it enclosed. The sanctuary was almost as large as the highlands. There was another Royal Beast sanctuary located nearer to the capital on the Lazalu highlands. Sick and wounded beasts, however, had to be kept separate to avoid tarnishing the purity of the Yojeh and bringing misfortune. These “damaged goods” were kept at the Kazalumu Sanctuary, a day’s carriage ride from the capital, where they were tended until they died. A boarding school had been annexed to the sanctuary to train aspiring beast doctors. Schools in the capital, like Tamuyuan, only accepted applicants from the upper class. There, outstanding students could ascend to the coveted rank of “grand master.” At Kazalumu, however, students were from the artisan class and, although they could become beast doctors, they would never rise higher than that. Still, children came from all over the country, hoping to receive credentials that would guarantee a living in their homelands. Funded by the Yojeh, students were provided with free tuition, as well as free room and board and uniforms, which made Kazalumu very popular with parents from the poorer classes. Over a hundred hopeful applicants arrived each year, but the Yojeh’s funds could only support a maximum of sixty students in total, and the income received for veterinarian services from the district’s livestock farmers was barely enough to cover the teachers’ salaries and living expenses. Only fifteen or so students graduated each year. This meant that only fifteen new students could enter. Consequently, the exams that determined who would enter were extremely tough. As soon as he had decided what to do with Elin, Joeun had jumped into action. First, he had written to his old school friend, Esalu, explaining the situation and asking permission for Elin to take the entrance exam. In the two weeks it took to receive a reply, he had arranged for another beekeeper to buy his hives, while at the same time preparing Elin for the exam. Spring seemed to fly by. When Esalu’s letter finally arrived, Elin could not keep her knees from trembling as she watched Joeun break the seal. The answer was brief, penned in a script so bold it was hard to believe it had been written by a woman. The official entrance exam, Esalu wrote, only took place in the summer. However, three students had been expelled for misconduct that spring. For this reason, and the fact that the request was from Joeun, she would be willing to conduct a special entrance exam for Elin. But it would be very strict. To be accepted, Elin would have to achieve marks as high as the student who had ranked third in the regular exam. Elin could come on that condition. Elin and Joeun had spoken very little during the journey to Kazalumu. A mixture of sadness, hope, and anxiety had made their hearts too full for speech. As they alighted from the carriage in front of the school, the fragrance of damp grass stroked their cheeks. Dark clouds, blown on the wind, raced above them, pierced by a shaft of sunlight that sparkled on the rain-wet meadow. In the midst of that vast plain stood Kazalumu Boarding School. The school was composed of three large, two-story buildings, their walls so weathered by wind and snow that the wood had yellowed. The dark thatched roofs were covered in moss and dotted with flowers that must have sprouted from wind-blown seeds. From deep beyond the great wooden doors came the faint murmur of voices, but, perhaps because classes were in session, it seemed far too quiet for there to be sixty students. Joeun laid a hand on Elin’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry. The entrance exam is for twelve-year-olds. You’ll do fine. If you relax and stay clearheaded, you’ll pass for sure.” Elin nodded, but her mouth felt very dry. While she tied the reins to the post beside the gate, Joeun struck the rusted copper bell that hung nearby. It made such a dull noise that Elin wondered if anyone would ever hear it, but soon the great doors creaked open, and a tall figure appeared from within, wearing ankle-length trousers beneath a stained, knee-length white apron. At first, Elin thought it must be a middle-aged man, but when the light struck the person’s face, she realized it was a woman. She came toward them and Elin caught the faint scent of animals from her clothes. Although she did not seem to be that old, the woman’s short-cropped hair was sprinkled with white, and her tanned face was laced with wrinkles, reminding Elin of beef jerky. The woman shot back the iron bolt in the gate and opened it, beckoning them inside. “It’s been a long time, Esalu,” Joeun said. “You haven’t changed a bit.” The woman smiled. “I’ve aged, Joeun … And it looks like you’ve gotten quite brown.” Then she ran her eyes over Elin. “So you’re Elin, are you?” Elin placed her palms to her forehead and bowed. “Yes, I’m Elin. It’s an honor to meet you.” Esalu nodded. “You’re very tall. I heard you were fourteen but you seem more like sixteen.” Joeun patted Elin on the shoulder. “She’s too thin. These last two years she shot up in height. She used to be such a little thing that a puff of wind would have blown her away.” Esalu nodded once again. “Come,” she said. “Let me show you around the school.” She turned toward the entrance, and they followed after her. After being outside on the open plain, it took their eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light inside. The corridor smelled of ancient wood mingled with the sunny scent of boys, a combination that for Joeun brought back a flood of memories. Removing their shoes in the dirt-floored entranceway, they slipped on the indoor shoes they had brought with them. Esalu gestured for them to follow her, and they began walking along the wooden floor of the dimly lit corridor. They could hear the voices of students responding to their teachers from the rooms on the south side of the corridor. The north side was also lined with rooms, but they appeared to be empty. Esalu came to a stop before a sliding door at the end of the hallway. A sign above it announced in faded letters HEADMASTER’S ROOM. She put her hand on the door, but Joeun hastily stopped her. “Esalu, wait a second,” he said in a low voice. “Who’s the headmaster now?” Esalu raised her brows and slid back the door. On the far side of the room, a sliding door with paper panes had been pulled back, allowing a soft light to pour inside. But the room was empty. “I’ve been the headmistress for the last two years,” Esalu said. “Didn’t you know?” Joeun looked at her in surprise. “Really?… I thought you had no interest in politics.” Esalu laughed. “This isn’t Tamuyuan. No one with any ambition would stay here long. In Kazalumu, the position of headmaster is filled by someone who has no ambition and is willing to stay for life.” From the moment she entered the room, Elin’s eyes were riveted to the north wall. Built-in bookshelves extended along it, holding a library that far exceeded Joeun’s collection. Thus preoccupied, she missed the shocked expression on Joeun’s face. For any school, the headmaster’s room proclaimed its wealth and status. The position of Kazalumu was obvious at a single glance, and Joeun could not conceal his astonishment at the room’s austerity. He knew that Esalu had never been interested in luxury or fancy trappings, but the sparse furnishings in the barren room were plainly cheap and worn. A large wall clock stood beside the bookshelves, ticking loudly as it marked the passage of time. Thick woven carpets lay on the floor. At the far end, facing the door, was a single low desk and legless chair. Four more low desks, each with two legless chairs, were arranged around a hearth embedded in the center of the room. A small stack of coals glowed red with flames in the hearth, and an earthenware teapot with a wisp of steam rising from its spout sat on a metal brazier above it. Esalu gestured to the chairs by the hearth. “Have a seat while I make some tea.” Seeing the look on Joeun’s face, she smiled. “There’s no maid to serve tea here. And even if I had the money to hire one, I’d spend it on taking in another student instead.” She poured the tea deftly and served them. Then she looked at Elin. “Whether you pass or fail, you must stay here tonight with Joeun. I’m sure you’re tired after the journey. You could take the test tomorrow if you’d rather.” Elin placed her cup on the table. Perhaps because she was excited, she didn’t feel tired. Nor could she bear the thought of waiting in suspense any longer. “If possible, I would rather do it now.” Esalu nodded. “All right, then. We’ll do that. But first drink your tea. It should help you relax a little.” The hot tea had a pleasant citric aroma and a slightly sweet taste, and it warmed Elin up from the inside. Her fingers stung where they held the hot cup. Although it was spring, the journey across the highlands in the rain had been very cold. She had only realized how frozen her hands were when she had picked up the cup. Just as Esalu had said, by the time she had finished the tea, she was feeling more relaxed and able to register the furnishings and her surroundings. “That’s brought the color back to your face,” Esalu remarked. “Shall we start, then? Joeun, come over here please.” Joeun stood up ponderously, cup in hand, and went to sit down beside the headmistress’s desk. Esalu then took three sheets of paper, a pot of ink, and a pen from her desk and placed them in front of Elin. “Go ahead. The amount of time you have to complete it is one toh.” When she saw the writing that filled the thin sheets of paper, Elin’s heart began to pound almost painfully. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth and her mind felt numb. She took a deep breath and looked at what was written. The first page was all mathematical equations, the second was questions about the life cycles and habits of various animals, and the third was essay questions. The answer to the first question came to her, and she felt herself relax. From then on, she was oblivious to everything around her. When she had completed the last page, she checked her answers one more time and then quietly laid her pen on the desk. “Are you done already?” Esalu asked. “Only half a toh has passed.” Elin blinked. She had no idea how much time had passed. All she knew was that she was finished. Even if she tried, she would not be able to think of anything more to write. She rose and, walking over to the headmistress, handed her the test. Picking up a pair of reading glasses from her desk and placing them on her nose, Esalu began reading. The ticking of the clock, which Elin had not even heard before, seemed to echo loudly in the room, and the sound of the steam rattling the lid of the kettle set her nerves on edge. Esalu read swiftly through the first two pages, placing them one by one on the table as she finished. But she spent a long time reading the essays on the third page. When she finished, she looked not at Elin, but at Joeun. “So … I can see why she’s such a favorite of yours.” A smile spread slowly across Joeun’s face. “What do you think?” Without answering, she placed the test paper on the desk and tapped it with her knuckle. Then she stretched and looked up at Elin. “For your studies, you can start in the intermediate level with students your own age instead of the novice level. But for your practical lesson, you’ll start off mucking out the stalls of the Royal Beasts and other animals along with the twelve-year-olds. All right?” After a pause, Elin nodded. “Yes, thank you.” “That’s settled then. I’ll introduce you to the other students this evening at dinnertime.” Then Esalu smiled. It was only when Elin saw her smile that it really sank in. She had been accepted into the school. All the tension drained from her body and she could not keep her voice from trembling. “Tha-thank you so much.” Esalu reached for a rope that hung down from a small hole in the ceiling and pulled it. Shortly after, they heard a knock on the door. “Headmistress, it’s me, Kalisa.” “Come in,” Esalu said, and the door opened to reveal a woman slightly younger than the headmistress and so stout she looked like she would burst. “This is our dorm mother,” Esalu said. “She serves as a mother to all sixty of our students.” Kalisa smiled brightly. “Rascals is what they should be called. Really, they’re a lot of work, but somehow or other we get along … Oh, there I go, forgetting to introduce myself. I’m Kalisa. You’re the new student, are you?” Elin bowed formally. “My name is Elin. I’m pleased to meet you.” Kalisa’s smile grew broader. “My goodness. What a proper greeting. It’s so nice to have girls. Can you clean, do laundry, sew?” Before Elin could reply, Joeun said, “She did all the housework in our home. She won’t be any trouble to you, don’t worry.” “Splendid! The boys are so lazy sometimes. You know, Headmistress, we should really start recruiting more girls.” Esalu laughed and laid a hand on Elin’s shoulder. “Let Kalisa show you around the school. Kalisa, I’m going to put her in the intermediate class. You take her to her room and tell her everything she needs to know about living here.” Kalisa’s eyes grew round. “You’re going to skip to the second year, are you? You must be very bright!” Then she smiled at Joeun. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” Joeun bowed deeply. “Thank you very much.” “You’re welcome,” Kalisa replied. “Come along now, Elin.” “But her belongings are still in the carriage,” Joeun protested. “No need to worry about that,” Esalu said. “I’ll get the custodians to help bring her things in. You’ll stay here tonight, too, won’t you? Elin can stay with you in the guestrooms tonight instead of the dorms.” “Really? That would be wonderful.” Once Elin had followed Kalisa out of the room, Joeun turned to Esalu and bowed. “I can’t thank you enough. I know I was asking you a big favor to make this exception, and I really appreciate you giving her a chance.” Esalu picked up Elin’s test papers in her hand and passed them to Joeun. As he began reading through them, she said quietly, “In thirty years of teaching, I’ve seen a lot of good students, so it’s no surprise for me when one of them gets every question right except for a small calculation error. But to be honest, her answer to that essay question astonished me.” Joeun put the first two sheets on the desk and began to read Elin’s essay on “Why do you want to be a beast doctor?”. The gist of her answer was this: “I am fascinated by the mystery of why things are the way they are, whether living or inanimate. I want to understand. Why is the smallest honeybee so incredibly efficient? Why is there so much diversity even among bees of the same hive? When I start thinking about things like this, my mind is filled with questions. I want to know why living things are the way they are, including me. “Unlike people, beasts do not use language. In order to care for them, we must study them continuously and look at every aspect. I am sure that whatever I learn about beasts will help me to learn about the things I want to know.” Joeun rested the paper on the desk and looked at Esalu. “You’re a teacher to the core, aren’t you?” she said. “You may have left the school, but when you discovered such an able pupil, you couldn’t resist teaching her, right?” Joeun shook his head. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t ‘discover’ her. She walked into my life out of the blue.” He told her everything, from the day he had rescued Elin to what she had told him about her mother. When he finished, it was late afternoon, and the sunlight slanting through the window had turned to gold. Esalu frowned slightly and said in a low voice, “I see. So that’s her background. She has a stillness that is unusual in a girl of fourteen, and I guess that explains why.” She looked down at the floor and murmured, “So her mother broke the Oath of the Ao-Loh.” Joeun raised his brows. “Ao-Loh?” Esalu’s head jerked up as if she had been startled. “What? Oh, I was mumbling. I said that her mother broke the vow of the Ahlyo, the People of the Mist. If you look at her eyes, you can tell at a glance that she has Ahlyo blood. I have very firmly told everyone here, including the students, that if Elin joins this school, they are all to ignore the fact that she is part Ahlyo, so you needn’t worry on that account.” Joeun’s face relaxed. “Thank you. I’m relieved to hear that.” Esalu smiled faintly. “Whether Ahlyo or Wajak, and regardless of whether she’s a girl or of low rank, as long as she has the desire to help the Beasts and the brains to do so, she has what it takes to belong to this school.” For an instant, Joeun glimpsed in her expression the stubborn fierceness of the girl he had studied with so long ago. 3 YUYAN Eight paper lanterns hung from the ceiling of the spacious dining hall, casting a soft light over the students sitting at the long tables. The simple fare laid out before them was at least plentiful. As Elin was led to her seat, she felt the eyes of every boy in the room follow her, and the pressure of their gazes weighed on her chest. She had never seen so many boys gathered in one place in all her life, nor had she ever been stared at in such a way. She was never able to recall how Esalu introduced her to the students or what she had said herself. When she sat down, she was surprised to find a girl in the seat beside her. Large-boned and tall, the girl was smiling broadly. “Now isn’t this grand!” she exclaimed in an unfamiliar lilting accent. “Another girl!” Grabbing Elin’s hands in her own, she continued, “Until you came, I was all on my own, a wee little girl among all these boys. But now look at this! I’ve been sent a friend!” Stunned to receive such a profuse welcome from a complete stranger, Elin looked around in confusion, but the boys were all grinning. “What do you mean, ‘wee little girl’?” one of them teased. “Yeah, you eat more than the rest of us put together, you lazy old thing.” Ignoring them, the girl shook Elin’s hands vigorously and said, “My name’s Yuyan. Do say you’ll be my friend.” Her warm hands were large enough to envelop Elin’s. Looking at her wide-open smile, Elin found herself smiling in return. “My name’s Elin. And yes, let’s be friends.” Yuyan’s eyes seemed to sparkle with joy. “There now, look at that lovely smile! You seemed kind of grownup and quiet for a while there, but when you smile, well, you’re actually pretty cute.” Then, turning to the boys, she demanded, “Don’t you think so, too?” The boys just kept on grinning, but something in their expressions reminded Elin of the way a mischievous older brother might look at a younger sister. “Come on, then, dig in!” Yuyan cried. “Dig in! Before dinner gets cold!” And before the students or even the teachers had picked up their chopsticks, she had begun shoveling food into her mouth. When a startled Elin turned her eyes from Yuyan to look at those around her, the boys laughed and then nodded at her, as if to say, “Go ahead. Eat your supper.” From his seat beside the headmistress, Joeun watched Elin begin to eat and breathed a sigh of relief. Elin was bright, but she tended to remain aloof. And she was of Ahlyo blood. His greatest fear had been that she would feel left out at the school, but it looked like there was no need to worry. As if reading his mind, Esalu said, “She’ll be fine with Yuyan in her group. Yuyan’s like a ray of sunshine. She does tend to be a bit hasty at times, but she’s comfortable with anyone and makes others feel comfortable with her.” Watching the sturdy girl chattering as she ate, Joeun nodded. This was the right decision. The thought spread through him, dissolving the weight that had burdened his mind since the day his son had appeared. He felt light at heart, but it was a lightness tinged with sadness. The next day, Elin wept when Joeun rode away in the cart. What could she say to him? How could she express all the feelings that filled her heart for this man who had rescued her from the lakeshore and raised her as if she were his own child? All she could do was to bow her head low and listen to the sound of the cart’s wheels growing fainter in the distance. She felt as if the happiness of being held and protected by him, the joy of their life together, was receding with him. So much about life at Kazalumu was unfamiliar that at first Elin was bewildered. To her surprise, the hardest thing to get used to was keeping in step with the crowd of students with whom she now lived. In the dormitory, she was required to do everything at the same time as everyone else, from rising in the morning to going to bed at night. With Joeun, as long as she finished the jobs she was responsible for, she could do what she liked, but here she had almost no time for herself. Classes covering new material were interesting, but she found those covering subjects that she had already studied with Joeun boring. When a class was stimulating, she still had to struggle because so many questions popped into her mind. With Joeun, she had been free to ask questions whenever they occurred to her, but here it seemed that no one had anything to ask. She hesitated to raise her hand when all the other students just sat and listened in silence. She found the practical lessons in caring for sick animals hard, too, because the students were only expected to remember what the teacher told them and to repeat the same tasks over and over. She could not stop to observe an animal more closely whenever something puzzled her. It was simply not allowed. One night, Yuyan peered into her face with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong, Elin? You seem awful tired and a wee bit pale, too.” Unlike the boys, who slept in large communal rooms, Elin and Yuyan had a small room of their own, because they were the only girls in the entire school. Before, Yuyan had had the room to herself, and Elin had worried that the sudden appearance of a roommate might have made her feel crowded. In fact, however, she seemed to be genuinely pleased. Rooming with her, Elin realized that she was indeed a very easygoing and kindhearted person. Her only faults were a remarkable tendency to jump to conclusions and her habit of talking, loudly, in her sleep. There were times when Elin was jolted awake in the middle of the night by her friend shouting outrageous things, but the next morning the two girls always had a good laugh over what she had said. As the days went by, they became such good friends that they felt as if they had known each other all their lives. When Yuyan expressed concern for her like this, Elin was sorry that she was such a poor talker. Unaccustomed to sharing her inner thoughts and feelings with others, she had trouble knowing how and when to confide in her friend. Yuyan, who had been raised in a mountain village on the northern edge of the Yojeh’s territory, appeared at first glance to be unconcerned by what others felt, but in fact she was quite empathetic and quick to notice when anyone was anxious or in distress. “I s’pose it’s only to be expected. After all, you’ve been gathering up Beast dung with the young ones. They’re such a noisy bunch, you must be exhausted.” Elin smiled and shook her head. “No, really, I quite enjoy working with the younger kids … That’s not what’s bothering me.” Hesitantly, she shared her discovery that she found it hard to adjust herself to the pace of others. Yuyan listened, her eyes wide, as Elin haltingly explained her confusion and her struggle to cope. When she finished, Yuyan gave a low whistle. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s what’s bugging you? Now who would’ve guessed just from looking at you? The boys’re always talking about how mature you are. They think you’re pretty special to fit right in even though you came in the middle of the term.” Elin was amazed. It had never occurred to her that others would see her that way. Yuyan laughed. “What? You mean you didn’t even notice? The guys can’t take their eyes off you, Elin. You’ve got Ahlyo blood, right? It makes you kind of mysterious, sort of special, you see.” She spoke frankly. “Y’know, Elin, the headmistress told us to ignore that you’re part Ahlyo, but I think she’s expecting an awful lot. It’s only human to notice when someone’s different, right? If it were me, I’d say that instead of ignoring it, we ought to tell people not to be so dumb as to take those differences in the wrong way. That’s what really counts.” Yuyan had been gazing steadily at her the whole time she was speaking, and Elin nodded. “I think so, too. That’s far more important.” Yuyan’s face lit up. “You see? Take me, for instance. I talk funny, right? The guys used to laugh at me when I first came here, but then—you know Kashugan?” Elin blinked and had to think for a moment before she recalled a tall boy with a long face. “Ah! I know who you mean. The one whose sash is always crooked.” Yuyan laughed. “Yup. That’s him all right. No good at tying his sash. But, what I was trying to say was, one day he told the others that they weren’t right to laugh at me. He told them the way people speak depends on where they’re brought up. ‘You wouldn’t like it if someone laughed at the way your folks spoke either,’ he said.” Elin smiled. “Really? He’s very kind, isn’t he?” “You bet! And isn’t that just the nicest thing someone could do? So, Elin, I’m not going to ignore the fact that you’re part Ahlyo, because it makes no difference what color your eyes are. You are who you are, and that’s all that matters.” Elin was startled to find her eyes filling with tears. Before she could stop them, they were flowing down her cheeks. Looking flustered, Yuyan clasped Elin’s hand. “No, don’t cry now. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m always too blunt.” Staring at the ground, Elin shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She wanted desperately to stop her tears, but it was impossible. She wiped her eyes roughly and shook her head repeatedly. For the first time in her life, she realized how deeply she had been hurt by people’s reactions to her Ahlyo heritage. The way her grandfather and Joeun’s son had looked at her had cut her to the core. Yuyan’s truly amazing, she thought. Her grandfather, who had stood by and let the Toda attack his grandchild, might have the high rank of Chief Steward, but compared to Yuyan, he was no better than trash. Elin wiped her eyes again and looked at Yuyan. “Thank you.” No other words came to her, but Yuyan, her eyes full of tears, nodded. 4 THE BEAST WHISTLE Despite Yuyan’s concern, Elin really did not mind collecting dung with the first-level students or mucking out the stalls of the sick animals entrusted to the school from neighboring farms. True, at just twelve years of age, the younger students were still a bit immature. They complained boisterously that the manure was “gross” and “stinky,” and their idea of cleaning was to spread the muck around rather than to make things cleaner, so that Elin usually ended up finishing the job herself. Yet she found this job a welcome diversion. What made her happiest was the fact that she got to see the Royal Beasts every day. Only the older students were permitted to care for the Beasts, but while the creatures were let loose in a large pasture during the day, the younger students gathered the dung from their quarters and spread out fresh straw. Whenever she saw the Beasts in the distance, Elin felt her heart sing. They stood in the gently rolling pasture, napping in the warm spring sunshine and flapping their wings leisurely every so often. When she first saw them, something about them seemed different from the Royal Beasts that she had observed every year in the wild. Yet at the time she could not put her finger on what it was. “Royal Beasts never grow accustomed to human beings.” Their teacher drilled this lesson into them. “They may seem calm and peaceful, but when roused, their rage is terrible. You must never let down your guard when you approach them.” In a quiet voice, he related the tale of a boy who, thirteen years ago, had approached too close to a Royal Beast. He had been torn to shreds in seconds. The first-level students shuddered at this story. As she listened, Elin recalled the scene she had witnessed on the rock ledge several years ago. For fangs that could slice effortlessly through the impervious scales of a Toda, a human body would seem as soft as lard. “You must never go near the Royal Beasts until you are in the upper level and have acquired enough knowledge and experience. Do you understand?” So saying, the teacher slowly drew a small whistle from his robe. Elin’s eyes opened wide in surprise. It looked just like the one that her mother had used. “This is a Silent Whistle. It makes no sound even when you blow it, but it will cause the Royal Beasts to freeze. The upper level students carry one with them at all times and use it when there is a need. This is the only tool we have with which we can control the Royal Beasts. Remember that.” One student raised his hand. “How far does the whistle reach?” “About ten paces. If you are farther away than that, you should assume that the whistle won’t have any effect.” Elin felt as though the teacher’s voice was coming from very far away. She had never dreamed that people would manipulate Royal Beasts with the Silent Whistle, just like the Toda. Her heart sank as she listened. The first time she saw the whistle being used was about a month after she had come to the school. In the morning, the weather was fair, but a little after midday, dark clouds suddenly covered the sky and strong gusts of wind began to blow. Elin’s group was laying out straw in the Beast quarters when a burly youth came racing inside and yelled at them to hurry. “Quick! There’s a thunderstorm coming and the Beasts will be back soon.” At the sound of thunder, Royal Beasts instinctively sought shelter, which in the Sanctuary meant the stables rather than a rocky ledge under an overhang where they would have roosted in the wild. The older students, who were aware of this habit, feared that they might be trapped inside when the Beasts returned. The younger students hurriedly finished laying the straw and were about to leave when the youth, who had been watching the pasture, pushed them back. “Wait! Don’t go out yet! One of them is almost here.” He glanced at his companion. “It’s all right to use it, isn’t it?” The other nodded. “It’s an emergency. Do it.” The first youth raised the whistle to his lips and blew on it sharply. It made no sound, but looking out of the window Elin saw a Beast that had been running full tilt toward them stop dead in its tracks as if it had hit an invisible wall. It toppled slowly over, and remained as still as stone, even when it struck the ground. Lightning flashed across the sky, and the inert Beast glowed white in the darkness. A heavy rain fell, pummeling its body and drenching its fur, yet still it did not move. Elin felt goosebumps rise on her skin. The sight chilled her to the bone. She had seen her mother blow the whistle and freeze the Toda many times, but never before had she felt like this. That whistle kills the Beasts. These words flashed through her mind like lightning. Within less than ten han (about ten minutes), the Beast began to twitch and, under the anxious gaze of the students who had escaped outside the enclosure, it slowly rose and made its way inside. But those words and the image of its motionless form, struck by the rain, remained seared on Elin’s mind long after. The words rose into her mind again one day near summer as she stood leaning against the fence and watching the Royal Beasts. By this time she had realized what was so different about the Beasts at the sanctuary—their fur. They lacked the dazzling brilliance that had radiated from the wild Beasts as they soared overhead, backlit by the morning sun. The fur of the Beasts here was dull and lackluster, a far cry from the breathtakingly beautiful radiance of their wild counterparts. Was it because they were hurt or diseased? Or did the Beasts change when raised in captivity? The teachers had taught her that when raised by men from infancy, they never flew. As she gazed at the Beasts standing in the pasture and recalled the powerful strokes of the wild Beasts’ wings as they had sped through the sky, a cold, dry wind seemed to blow through her heart. The words her mother had said as she threw the Silent Whistle into the fire came back to her now. “It’s not taking care of the Toda that I mind … It’s that whistle. I’ve always hated using it. I hate watching the Toda freeze whenever I blow it … To see beasts controlled by humans is a miserable thing. In the wild, they would be masters of their own destiny. I can’t bear watching them grow steadily weaker when they live among men.” Lost in the recollection of her mother’s face in the hearth light, of her low voice as she spoke, Elin did not notice that someone was approaching, even when the sound of footsteps was right behind her. “You’re watching the Beasts?” The sound of Esalu’s voice jolted her back to the present. The headmistress stood beside her, gazing at the Beasts. “I often see you standing here watching. Do you like them?” “Yes.” Esalu shifted her gaze to Elin’s face. “You don’t seem very happy when you look at them, though.” At first, Elin did not know how to respond, but then she remembered how Joeun had described the headmistress. She was possessed by the Royal Beasts, he had said. Before she knew it, she had blurted out, “Because I feel sorry for these ones that are raised in captivity.” Esalu raised her eyebrows. “Why do you say that?” Elin turned away from Esalu to look at the Beasts. “I’ve seen them in the wild. Their fur isn’t dull and lifeless like this. They soar in the heavens on their powerful wings, and their fur gleams like silver in the sun.” Esalu’s eyes widened. “You what? You mean you’ve actually seen Royal Beasts in the wild?” Startled by the force of her voice, Elin turned to look at her. “Yes.” “Where?” Her tone was sharp and Elin felt her throat tighten. “Mount Kasho. There was a nest on a precipice overlooking a ravine.” Esalu frowned. “Mount Kasho? What were you doing so deep in the mountains? No one lives up there.” “We were beekeeping. Joeun’s summer hut is up there. We spent every summer on the mountain.” “Ah, I see.” Esalu’s expression relaxed. “Yes, beekeepers have to follow the flowers up the mountain in summer, don’t they?” Why had Esalu reacted like that? Elin wondered. “Is there something wrong with seeing Beasts in the wild?” she asked. Esalu shook her head. “No, not at all. In fact, it’s very fortunate. You see, it’s extremely rare for anyone to see wild Beasts. I doubt if anyone but the Beast Hunters has ever seen them. When I was younger, I wanted to find some so badly that I climbed quite a few mountains myself, but I never saw any. I sought out the Beast Hunters as well, hoping that they would tell me where to look, but for them, that knowledge is like a goldmine, and they weren’t willing to share it with anyone.” She looked at the Beasts standing in the pasture. “Is their fur really that different from those in the wild?” “Yes. The fur of wild Beasts shines in different shades depending on the light that hits them. The color looks different in the morning light than at noon. But the fur of the Beasts here never changes. Perhaps they’re missing some essential element in their fur that makes it shine.” Esalu remained silent, as if lost in thought, her eyes on the Beasts. Then she raised her arm and pointed at each one in turn. “That one on the left flapping his wings, that’s Naku. He has weak intestines and needs a special diet. Tosaku beside him has a tumor in his large intestine and probably won’t last more than a few months. Sattoku on the right has a disease that softens the claws and fangs.” She turned to look at Elin. “It could be that their fur doesn’t shine because they’re ill … Or it could be something more than that.” She watched Elin intently, obviously thinking, and then said in a quiet voice, “If you observed the Royal Beasts here carefully, do you think you would be able to identify other differences between them and Beasts in the wild?” Elin returned her gaze. “I don’t know … I can’t tell unless I try.” A smile crept into Esalu’s eyes. “Well said. Let me change my question then. Would you like to find out what the differences are?” Elin felt her pulse quicken. “Yes.” Esalu nodded and then gestured with her chin. “Follow me then.” She began walking toward the Royal Beast quarters. Elin thought she was going to go inside, but instead she passed by the entrance and, going around the wall, headed down a small path through a wood where she had never been. The deep green leaves on the branches fluttered over their heads. Once through the wood, another building for housing Beasts appeared ahead. A sturdily built young man was just coming out of the door. He bore a pail in one hand and a bucket of dung in the other. Noticing Esalu, he stopped and stood respectfully. Esalu looked into the pail. “It didn’t drink much, did it?” The young man shook his head, his expression gloomy. “No, it didn’t. I prepared the tokujisui potion just as you told me to, but the cub wouldn’t even try it.” Elin started and looked at the bucket. Tokujisui? Was it the same potion her mother had given the Toda? Or was that the name for any concoction of nutrients dissolved in water? She shifted her feet to get a better look, but as soon as she moved, Esalu said, “Do you want to see?” Elin blushed. “Yes.” “Then go ahead.” Elin peered into the pail. The color of the liquid was similar to the potion used for the Toda. She brought her face close and smelled it. There was no mistake. It smelled the same as the Toda potion. After watching Elin’s expression wordlessly, Esalu asked quietly, “Can you tell what’s in it?” Elin hesitated for a moment. If she answered, she would have to tell Esalu about her mother. She looked up and when her eyes met the headmistress’s, she realized immediately that Esalu already knew. She knew that Elin’s mother had been a Toda Steward. Joeun must have told her. “The stewed roots of atsune and lakalu weeds mixed with secretions from togela bugs … If this were for Toda, I would say that it has more lakalu than usual.” The young man holding the pail stared at her, but Esalu nodded. “That’s right. I increased the amount of lakalu weed because it stimulates the appetite. But it looks like it didn’t work.” Esalu looked at the young man. “Thank you. You can go now. Leave the bucket of dung there.” The young man kept looking at Elin, but after setting down the bucket, he bowed and left. Esalu knelt on the ground and, taking a wooden paddle from the side of the bucket, began examining the contents. Elin crouched down to watch. After spending some time carefully checking the droppings, Esalu glanced at Elin. “Did you notice anything?” “The color is paler than the dung of the other Beasts. There’s no grass stems mixed in with it, and it looks pretty soft. If this is the amount collected in one day, it’s not very much. And the fact that there is a high fur content is also a concern.” Esalu’s eyes narrowed. “So you’ve been examining the droppings you collect every day, have you?” Elin blinked, wondering why on earth Esalu would need to ask such a question. “Yes. I thought that’s why we collected them in the first place.” “But your teachers never said that, right? They just told you to gather the dung and clean their quarters.” Elin thought for a moment and realized that this was true. She had never seen any of the first-level students examining the dung. Esalu smiled faintly. “When first-level students finish the year, they have to take an exam in order to graduate from this task. The teacher questions them verbally about the condition of the droppings for each one of the Beasts they cared for. Almost all the students are taken by surprise. They have no inkling of the important information to be found there. They are shocked at their own ignorance. And that is a very good lesson for them.” “I had no idea.” As a child, Elin had accompanied her mother every morning when she went to the Toda Chambers, and the first thing they did was examine the trough filled with dung. Her mother had explained carefully and methodically how she could tell, just by looking at it, the condition of each Toda. Something akin to pain spread through Elin’s chest. Everything she would learn here would be sure to bring back memories of her mother. She was following in her mother’s footsteps. Looking at Elin’s downcast face, Esalu said, “I hear your mother was a Toda Steward.” Elin looked up. “Yes.” “So she was training you to become a Toda Steward, too, was she?” Elin shook her head. “I don’t know. She never mentioned it to me.” Esalu watched her wordlessly, and looking at her face, Elin was suddenly exasperated. It was as if the headmistress were trying to determine what was inside her by feeling her through a thick cloth. “My mother was a Toda Steward, but when we parted, I was only ten years old. To be honest, I never had a chance to learn what kind of creatures Toda are, or the meaning of my mother’s work. When I was little, I was always with her, so I remember what she did, and when I asked questions, she always answered thoroughly. That’s why I knew what was in the tokujisui. But I don’t know anything more than that. I have nothing but hatred for those who sentenced her to death, and certainly no loyalty to them.” Esalu gazed steadily back at Elin, whose eyes were filled with anger. Then she said quietly, “Don’t misunderstand me. I heard about your past from Joeun, but I hold no prejudice against you just because you are the daughter of a Toda Steward.” “Then why—?” But Esalu stopped her with a gesture of her hand. “I queried you in that way for a different reason. But I don’t intend to tell you about that now. I’m sure we’ll have another opportunity someday.” Frowning, Elin stared at her. If there was one thing she hated, it was ambiguity. Her expression serious, Esalu continued, “Neither Royal Beasts nor Toda are mere animals. They are political tools tied to the very core of this country. Whether they like it or not, anyone deeply involved in their care has no choice but to become involved to some extent in politics. And in politics, there are many secrets. To reveal one’s hand carelessly can lead to unforeseen consequences.” “But that’s got nothing to do with me,” Elin insisted. “Really? Then let me take you at your word.” Although Esalu had said she would trust her, Elin sensed that her words still held hidden meaning. She glared at her, anger rising in her stomach, but Esalu ignored her. Standing up, she brushed the dirt from her knees. “Come with me,” she said. “Don’t say a word until I speak to you, and keep your footsteps as quiet as you can.” She removed a treatment kit from a cupboard beside the entrance and went inside the building. Following her, Elin was shocked. The interior was as dark as if someone had poured ink over her eyes. The other Beast quarters had a window in the ceiling that could be raised to let in light and, unless the weather was very bad, it was always left open, even at night. But the windows in this one were all shut tight, and no light penetrated except from the entrance. The smell of Beast permeated the darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out latticed bars covering the walls and ceiling, like a prison cell. Deep inside, she could see a form. It was nothing more than a huddled shadow, but even so she could tell that it was much smaller than the other Beasts. It must have raised its head, sensing their presence, because she saw two golden eyes gleam in the darkness. 5 LIGHT Esalu walked over to the wall and began moving something. There was a creaking of wood, and a shaft of sunlight suddenly penetrated the darkness. The headmistress must have raised the window in the ceiling slightly. A whimpering sound, almost like a baby crying, issued from the cage when the light touched its depths. The dark shadow huddled in the corner flapped its wings frantically, but its right shoulder sagged unnaturally and its right wing did not rise as high as its left. It wasn’t even full grown. The Beast was just a cub that should still have been protected by its mother in the nest. Its frantic movements dislodged a blanket covering its back. Its cries were so heartrending that Elin pressed her hands over her ears. Esalu came up beside her. Raising the Silent Whistle to her lips, she blew on it gently. Instantly, the cub froze, its wings still partly raised and its golden eyes staring fixedly ahead. Esalu handed the whistle to Elin and said quietly, “If it starts to move while I’m in the cage, blow it.” Then she lifted the latch on the door and went inside, carrying a box of medical supplies. First she examined the creature thoroughly from head to foot. Although still an infant, it was already taller than her, and she had to reach up to look at its right shoulder. She checked the wing joint as well, and Elin noticed a brown stain on the fur there. That must be where it had been hurt. Esalu opened her box, removed a large pair of scissors, and began wielding them with both hands, clipping the fur around the wound. Taking out a jar of disinfectant, she spread it on the exposed flesh. If the cub unfroze now, Esalu would be ripped to pieces before she could escape. Elin held the whistle to her mouth and watched the entire process with bated breath. She noticed other bald patches in the creature’s fur besides the area around the wound. Has it been biting itself? She knew that horses would bite themselves repeatedly when frustrated or depressed and suspected the cub must be doing the same. That would explain why there had been so much fur in its dung. Esalu finished her treatment swiftly and pulled the blanket back over the cub with a tenderness that was hard to imagine from her daily behavior. Once she had finished tucking the blanket around it, she ducked back out through the door of the cage. After lowering the window once more, she nudged Elin, and the two moved out of the stable, which was plunged once again into darkness. While Esalu was putting away the box of supplies, Elin asked, “Why is it so afraid? Because it was wounded?” “Don’t you know what happened last month at the Yojeh’s birthday celebration?” Esalu asked as she closed the door of the shed. “No.” “I see. Joeun seems to have lived like a hermit, so I suppose you never heard the news.” She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to look at Elin. “An attempt was made to assassinate the Yojeh at that banquet.” “What?” Elin was rendered speechless. The word “assassinate” seemed so alien to the word “Yojeh.” Who in this world would contemplate killing a god? Why would they even consider such a thing? Seeing the shocked expression on her face, Esalu challenged her. “Didn’t Joeun tell you anything?” “No…” “I guess he really did intend to leave the world behind then. He probably didn’t want to tell you how perverse society can be.” She sighed. “But if you are going to live here in the Beast Sanctuary, you will need to be well informed about what’s going on and the corruption out there. I’m sure your instructors will find opportunities to explain things in more detail. All you need to know right now is that some people have been trying to kill the Yojeh for many years.” “But who?” Esalu’s smile deepened. “After what we talked about earlier, this is a bit awkward to say the least, but it can’t be helped. Those who seek to take the Yojeh’s life belong to an organization called the Sai Gamulu, which literally means ‘blood and filth’ … They wish to see the Aluhan crowned king.” Elin felt her skin grow taut. She had often heard people in the Toda village complain that people from Yojeh territory treated them with contempt. The resentment they harbored had very naturally been imprinted on her own mind, and she was therefore well aware that there was some animosity between the Wajak, who lived in Aluhan territory, and the Holon, who inhabited Yojeh territory. But she had always assumed that this friction existed only between the two peoples. She had never dreamed that anyone would actually want the Yojeh killed and the Aluhan crowned king in her place. If the rift between the two was that deep, then surely it was very unwise for a daughter of the Stewards who raised the Aluhan’s Toda to be staying at a sanctuary for Royal Beasts, the very symbol of the Yojeh. That would certainly explain Esalu’s attitude toward her. But if so, then why had she agreed to let Elin enter the school? Esalu, who had been watching Elin’s face, said quietly, “I can pretty much guess what you are thinking, but let me tell you this. I do not doubt you or feel any hostility toward you for being the daughter of a Toda Steward … At the same time, however, I think it is best that you do not tell anyone else, not even Yuyan.” When Elin said nothing, Esalu drove home her point. “You will come to understand the situation in this country in due time. I am telling you not to speak to anyone about this until you can grasp the situation and judge for yourself. Do you understand?” Elin knew that she was right. It would be a mistake to tell anyone before she knew what was going on. “Yes, I understand,” she answered. Esalu nodded. “All right then. But we were talking about Leelan.” “Leelan? Light?” “Sorry. That’s the name of the cub in there.” Esalu turned her eyes toward the Beast quarters. “Leelan was a birthday gift presented to the Yojeh by her nephew. The first time it was ever exposed to a crowd of people was in the garden at the banquet. The assassin was hiding in a tree behind it and the arrow intended for the Yojeh grazed the cub’s shoulder while it stood frozen by the Silent Whistle.” A chill spread through Elin’s chest. In her mind’s eye, she could see the paralyzed Beast. It had been torn from the protection of its mother’s breast only to be thrust before a huge crowd in the bright light of day. How frightened and confused it must have felt. Had it cried out in fear, searching for its mother without understanding what was happening? In the midst of that terror, how had it felt when the arrow suddenly sliced its shoulder? “What’s the matter? You’re not crying, are you?” With a look of surprise, Esalu peered into Elin’s face. Elin averted her eyes. The sudden and violent surge of emotion that had risen inside her was unsettling. She knew all too well what it was like to want to curl up in fear and wail like a baby—the terror that comes from being suddenly wrenched from one’s mother, the confusion at being abandoned in the middle of a vast darkness without a clue of what to do … Was that cub once again gnawing on its flesh in the darkness? Was it biting itself repeatedly, tormented by feelings it could not suppress? She looked up as a strong hand gripped her shoulder. “Elin, get a hold of yourself. What’s wrong?” She brushed away her tears. “Nothing. I just felt sorry for Leelan.” Esalu seemed taken aback. “I can see why you might pity it … but you shouldn’t let yourself get so emotionally involved. You can’t make accurate judgments without keeping your distance and remaining objective.” She sighed and muttered. “I thought you were more levelheaded than that, but I guess I was wrong … I was thinking of asking you to observe Leelan, but perhaps I should reconsider.” She can’t be serious! Elin thought. How could anyone possibly remain objective if they knew what Leelan has been through? If she and that boy taking care of the young Beast can’t feel its pain, then they don’t understand it at all. They haven’t a clue of how petrifying it is to be suddenly separated from one’s mother and to find oneself totally alone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, opening her eyes, she said quietly, “Miss Esalu.” “Yes?” “I don’t think that objectivity necessarily guarantees accurate decision-making.” Esalu frowned. “What do you mean?” “I think that keeping your distance can also mean that you stop feeling things.” Esalu gazed for some time at the red-eyed girl in front of her before she finally spoke. “I see. You have a point. Are you claiming that when you observe Leelan, you can empathize and remain objective at the same time? That sounds good in theory; whether it can actually be done is another matter.” Elin rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know … But I want to try.” Esalu shrugged. “All right then. Try. But there’s not much time, so you had better be very diligent.” “There’s no time?” “That’s right. That young Beast hasn’t eaten a thing since the day it was injured.” “Since the day it was injured? So it hasn’t eaten anything for over a month.” “Royal Beasts can live a long time without food, but Leelan is only a cub. If it would just drink some tokujisui … Even that would help.” At the word tokujisui, Elin felt a twinge of distaste. She searched her memory for the cause and recalled something her mother had told her. Tokujisui, she had said, makes their fangs harder and their bones larger than Toda in the wild. But at the expense of other parts. Elin raised her face to look at Esalu. “I have a request.” Esalu looked at her questioningly. “I want to observe Leelan in my own way. Would you let me do that?” “What do you mean?” “Please excuse me from classes, practical lessons, and chores. Just for one month. That’s all I need. I promise to make up for the extra work I cause the other students when I’m finished. And I’ll sit for my exams and take the training tests at the same time they do. So please, just for one month, let me concentrate on nothing else but Leelan.” Esalu frowned. “How exactly do you intend to ‘concentrate’ on Leelan?” “I will stay here day and night. I’ll even eat my meals in the stable to let the cub get used to my scent. Other than that, I will just do whatever comes to mind from watching it … And there’s one other thing…” Elin clenched her fists and gazed straight at the headmistress. “If while I’m doing this, the cub begins to eat meat and fish like the offspring of Royal Beasts in the wild, please let me continue to care for it after that.” She was so desperate she could feel her legs shaking. “If I am able to help Leelan recover, it will be proof that I chose the right method, won’t it? So please, let me try.” “You certainly are taken with that cub, aren’t you?” Esalu said sharply, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead. “But let me warn you: Royal Beasts will never, ever be tamed by humans. No matter how much care you devote to that young one, it will never get used to you. You will never be special in its eyes. If you approach it with such foolish illusions, you will be torn to shreds. Don’t ever forget that.” Elin recalled the sting of the honeybee she had once tried to touch so long ago. Esalu is probably right. I chose to empathize with Leelan of my own free will, but even if I stake my life on caring for the cub, there is no guarantee that it will respond in kind. “I understand what you’re saying,” Elin said. “But how can I find out without trying?” Esalu’s expression remained cold. “Death by the fangs of the Royal Beasts is not the only risk we take when we care for them,” she said. “If there is any fault to be found in our care, we could be charged with disloyalty to the Yojeh and thrown in prison. That is why not even the senior students are given full authority to care for them. If anything should happen, it is I who must bear the blame, and therefore the students follow my orders, serving as my hands and feet. Do you have any idea how insolent you are being? You have essentially declared that you believe you can take better care of that Beast cub than me, despite the fact that I have studied Royal Beasts for the past forty years and have been involved in their care nonstop for three decades.” Elin’s heart beat loudly and her face stiffened. With trembling lips, she looked down at the ground. Esalu continued quietly, “You are smart. Your mother, a Toda Steward, trained you well to develop your talents, and you were fortunate to be mentored by Joeun, a superb teacher. No doubt that’s why you feel you can do what others can’t … I, too, have felt that way. It will be better for you to find out quickly that you are not so special after all.” She sighed. “You can take care of Leelan for one month in the way you deem fit. However, there is one thing that you must promise me, to protect Leelan from any failure on your part.” Elin raised her face slowly and looked at Esalu. With a stern expression, the headmistress removed the Silent Whistle from her robe. “When you open the door to the cage, you must always blow on this whistle. Never be overconfident. Swear to me that you will act only when you are sure of what you should do.” Elin put her hands to her mouth. “Yes. I swear.” “Come to my office later. I will explain in detail how to care for Leelan. But I will be the one to treat the wound, so don’t even try to touch it.” “Yes, Headmistress.” Esalu nodded and handed the Silent Whistle to Elin. Thus began the days that were to dramatically change Elin’s life. 6 TOMURA “That’s amazing! Unbelievable!” Yuyan exclaimed. At the sound of her excited shout, the boys remaining in the classroom during the break looked over in surprise. Yuyan threw her arms around Elin. “You must be the first kid in Kazalumu history to jump straight to the upper level.” “Yuyan, wait. I’m not…” Elin interjected hastily, but her friend did not hear her. “Well done, Elin! This is just so exciting! But, you know, I’m gonna miss you. We won’t be taking classes together anymore I guess.” She squeezed Elin so tightly that Elin blinked in surprise. Frantically, she tried to correct the misunderstanding. “Yuyan, you’ve got it all wrong. Listen…” But now the boys rushed over and joined the commotion. “Are you really skipping to the upper level?” they asked. Elin tried to shake her head as best she could while still trapped in her friend’s embrace. “No, I’m not! Yuyan misunderstood … Yuyan, please! Let me go! You’re strangling me.” This time Yuyan must have heard her because she released her reluctantly. “What’s there to misunderstand? You said the headmistress gave you a Silent Whistle, right? And you’re not coming to classes or doing chores anymore, right?” Free at last, Elin drew a deep breath. Sparks danced before her eyes. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she looked around at her classmates. “I’m sorry. I should have explained more clearly … The headmistress gave me permission to take just one month off to observe a Beast cub in the stable back in the woods. I’m not skipping any grades.” As she was talking, the door to the classroom slid back and a tall, sturdy young man came in. When she saw his face, Elin faltered. It was the same one who had been taking care of Leelan. He came over to where they sat and glared down at Elin, his face rigid. “Do you have some kind of connection with the headmistress or something?” he demanded. His voice sounded strained. He was obviously struggling to keep his anger from showing. Elin shook her head. She felt her pulse quicken and her stomach cramped. “Connection? I’m not related to her, if that’s what you mean … My foster father is a friend of hers, but…” His eyebrows shot up. “Have you no sense of shame? How could you use that kind of influence to take over my job? Without experience or training, you could end up harming that cub, you know. Can’t you tell right from wrong?” Elin felt the blood drain from her face. She tried to speak but found it hard to breathe. In a faint voice, she managed to say, “No, you’ve made a mistake. I didn’t use any connection to get permission to care for Leelan.” He gazed at her steadily, his frown deepening. “Then why did the headmistress take my job and give it to you?” “Because I’ve seen Royal Beasts in the wild.” He looked taken aback, his eyes widening. The students sitting around Elin also looked startled. “Really? You’ve seen Royal Beasts in the wild?” Elin nodded. “Yes. I was raised by a beekeeper. Every summer we went into the mountains, following the flowers, to places where most people never go. We ran into wild Royal Beasts when we were collecting herbs on a steep cliff. There was a nest halfway down with a mother and her young.” Some of the anger left the young man’s eyes. “But what does the fact that you’ve seen Royal Beasts in the wild have to do with caring for Leelan?” Elin’s voice was dry and hoarse. “The headmistress asked me if I would like to find the differences between Beasts in the wild and those in captivity, and I said yes, I would.” There was a long silence. He regarded her thoughtfully, one hand absently stroking the newly grown fuzz on his chin. “Are you sure that’s all?” Elin frowned in puzzlement. The young man looked as if he were debating whether to say what was on his mind or not, but then continued. “Come on. There must be more to it than that. You’re an Ahlyo. Didn’t she give you the job because you have some kind of special knowledge?” Elin’s chest felt as if it had been pierced with a thin blade. Unable to speak, she shook her head mutely. “You deny it? But you knew what was in the tokujisui. And not just for the Royal Beasts, but for the Toda, too.” A look of surprise crossed the faces of Elin’s classmates. There was a ringing in Elin’s ears and the color seemed to drain from everything around her. A cold sweat sprang up on her forehead as she raised her face to look at the young man. “That’s … not because … I’m an Ahlyo.” She did not want to talk about her mother. But how could she make him understand without telling him? She stared at him dumbly, her mind blank, unable to find any words to say. Suddenly a warm hand grasped hers and squeezed it firmly. Startled, she turned to see Yuyan nodding at her reassuringly. She felt her frozen body loosen, and sound came rushing back … As she relaxed, she remembered what Esalu had told her and looked squarely at the young man. “I can’t tell you right now why I know what’s used in the Toda’s tokujisui. The headmistress told me that I was not to talk about it.” The young man looked dissatisfied, but Elin plowed on. “She told me I should not even tell my friends. She said that when I grow up and understand the world better, I’ll know how to explain it properly, and that I shouldn’t tell anyone until then.” “Not even me? She didn’t say that, did she?” Yuyan demanded, looking forlorn. At the sound of her plaintive voice, so different from the tense conversation that had preceded it, the heavy atmosphere in the room seemed to shift. Elin bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Yuyan, but she specifically said not to tell you.” Yuyan cocked an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not very nice. But I suppose it can’t be helped. Besides, it’s kind of an honor to be recognized as your friend by the headmistress. And you will tell me someday, right?” Elin nodded. The young man looked down at the two girls with the expression of one who has just had the wind taken out of his sails. Finally, he said in a gruff voice, “Well, I guess if the headmistress knows why and still entrusted you with Leelan’s care, then it’s not my place to complain.” He bent down to look Elin straight in the eyes. “But remember this. Leelan is very precious to me. That cub is as fragile as glasswork that could break at any moment. Can you guess how I feel about having to relinquish it into your care before it has been cured?” Elin remained silent. “If anything happens to Leelan, I’ll never forgive you. Keep that in mind and take care of that cub as though your life depended on it.” With this parting shot, he stood up and left the room. The door slid closed with a sharp click. At the sound, Elin started and charged out of the door. She had to run to catch up to his long strides. “Wait…” she called out. The young man stopped and turned. “What?” Elin searched frantically for words. She had thought she wanted to apologize, but when she saw his face, she realized that a simple apology was meaningless. She had stolen Leelan from him. When she had pleaded with the headmistress to entrust her with the young Beast’s care, she had not spared a moment’s thought for the sorrow it might cause this young man. She deserved any abuse he might throw at her. Yet, even so, she could not bear to leave Leelan alone like that in the darkness. If this young man and the headmistress continued to use the Silent Whistle every time they went into the cage, that Beast would die. They might scoff at her if she told them, but she was sure of this. If she really wanted to help Leelan regardless of what others might think of her, then it was selfish to seek forgiveness. Still, she did not want this young man to think that she had asked the headmistress for the job so that she could win her favor. She wanted him to know that she also cared about Leelan. Although he was looking at her with a frown, he did not rush her. She swallowed and said the first words that came to her. “I felt sorry for Leelan … I was taken from my mother, too … when I was little.” The young man’s brows twitched. “Leelan is still at the age when Beasts should be sheltered under their mothers in the nest. I could imagine how it must have felt when it was torn from its mother, without any warning.” Elin forced herself to go on. “In the wild, the Royal Beast I saw nurtured her young tenderly, just like humans, so…” “You’ve said enough,” he said. “I understand already.” He turned to leave. “Please. Teach me,” Elin blurted out. “About Leelan.” The young man turned slowly to look at her. Taking a deep breath, she repeated, “Please, teach me what you know about Leelan.” A bitter smile touched his eyes. “You’ve got some nerve, haven’t you? Is that what you want? To build your house on the foundation I made? Are you that desperate for recognition?” Elin shook her head. “I just want Leelan to eat, to come out into the light of day instead of staying huddled in the darkness. I only have one month … You said that Leelan was precious to you. You are the one who knows that cub the best. So please teach me.” He gazed at the girl for some time, her eyes huge and bright in a pale face. She’s a selfish little brat who would do anything to get her way, he told himself. Yet he could not feel angry with her. The dark rage that had smoldered in his stomach just moments before had suddenly been stilled. If Leelan were to be entrusted to this girl’s care, then she would need detailed instructions so as not to do anything careless. He rubbed his chin. “Come with me. I’ll show you what to do.” Elin’s face lit up. “Thank you!” she said, and followed after him. The young man frowned. He wanted to believe that she had taken over his job in order to show off, but when he saw the light in her eyes, he found that he couldn’t. He had heard the passion in her voice when she had said she wanted to see Leelan eat. She was not lying when she claimed that she cared. To be honest, he had grown weary of caring for the cub. Despite his efforts, it had never warmed to him, but always responded with fear and hostility. He had been proud when the headmistress had assigned him to its care. She had believed in his ability, and he had longed to fulfill her expectations. He had also sincerely pitied the Beast cub and wanted to help it. But no matter what he did, it refused to eat. These last few days, all he had been able to think of was what would happen to his reputation if Leelan should die while under his charge. When he had suddenly been relieved of his duties, he had been angry and wanted to let the girl know what he thought. At the same time, however, he had no desire to wrest his job back from her. If he had had any confidence that what he was doing for Leelan would make a difference, he would have refused outright when the headmistress had asked him if he was willing to let someone else take over. The truth was that he had accepted because he no longer knew what to do. Perhaps the headmistress had realized how he was feeling. Perhaps she had been willing to let this girl try because she, too, was at a loss. Just one month … What might happen in a month? If the cub continued to refuse its food and the tokujisui, it would surely die. If it died while under this girl’s care, he could not be blamed. Although he knew it was cowardly, this thought passed through his mind. Still, who knew what this girl was really capable of? Perhaps she could use the mysterious knowledge of the Ahlyo to save Leelan. He found he did not mind that thought at all. If it meant that he could see Leelan napping in the sun, then he would be willing to endure the mortification of this girl succeeding where he had failed. The sound of her voice brought him back to the present. “Um, would you mind telling me your name? I’m Elin.” “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m Tomura.” 7 LIGHT FROM BELOW “You want to remove the wall of the stable?” Esalu stared at the young man standing in front of her. “Why?” Tomura looked slightly flustered. “Because Elin asked me to. She said the angle of the light that comes through the window is a problem. She thinks it frightens Leelan.” Esalu pushed back an unruly strand of hair. “What do you think?” Tomura frowned. “I don’t know. On the one hand, I doubt whether something like that would matter … but, you know, that girl’s different, so the things she says make me wonder.” “What do you mean she’s different?” “She spends all her time in the Beast quarters. She has her friend save food for her and when she goes to the dorm to have a bath, she gathers up as much as she can carry and takes it back with her. She’s been there five days already, and the only time she leaves is to take a bath or use the toilet. She spends the rest of her time with Leelan. She wraps herself up in a blanket and just sits there watching.” Esalu laughed. “So she’s bathing, is she? When she said she wanted Leelan to get accustomed to her scent, I thought she wouldn’t even wash.” “She does. I met her on the way to the bath. She said that Leelan doesn’t seem to react much to smell, but she thought it might be better not to let it detect her body odor.” He reddened. Honestly, she was really just a kid, not a girl. Talking about things like that didn’t seem to embarrass her at all. “Anyway, I’ve been checking up on her every day, just to make sure everything’s all right. Usually, she doesn’t pay much attention, but today she actually came out of the stable to talk to me. I was wondering why when she asked me to remove the wall. Or rather one of the planks. At the level of the water basin.” “The water basin? Ah, I see. That’s quite low down. So she’s asking you to remove a board near the floor.” “Yes. She said she wants to try introducing light from below Leelan rather than from above.” Esalu stroked her chin. She thought she could guess what Elin was thinking. “I see … That should be all right. Go ahead and do what she asked. Can you do it yourself, or should I ask one of the custodians?” “No, I can handle it. Those boards aren’t even part of the stable. They were just tacked on later because Leelan was so upset by the light. I just need to remove the nails.” He bowed briskly and left the room. Strangely, the more Elin grew accustomed to the darkness, which at first had been impenetrable and smelled of Beast, the more comfortable it began to feel—despite the fact that she had found the darkness frightening as a child, and that she still did not like it even now. Standing with the blanket wrapped around her, she discovered that her mind felt full of peace, as if she were drifting on the bottom of a pool of warm water. There were times when she was not sure if she were sleeping or waking. Leelan must want to be immersed in this warmth. The cub had not eaten for a long time, so perhaps it spent all its time dozing. It was very quiet on the other side of the bars. When Elin had first begun observing it, the cub had appeared to be distracted by her smell, her presence, her breathing. It had stirred frequently, and Elin could hear it tearing out its fur. But by the second day, these sounds had almost ceased. Watching day and night, she gradually began to sense when it woke up and when it went to sleep. The door of the stable was left open, and there was enough light to see the cub’s form vaguely. When the light that filtered through the door took on the clear transparency of dawn, Leelan would begin to move. It drank water and discharged body wastes so punctually each day that these actions seemed to be timed to the sound of the school bell. As she watched, Elin explored the things she noticed in her mind. Its scent was not as strong as the other Royal Beasts. Was this because it was slowly approaching death, its life force gradually waning? Why did it drink water but avoid food? It had been weaned already and had been eating meat like the other Beasts until it was shot at the banquet. Why? At first, just as Tomura and Esalu had instructed her, Elin had used the whistle whenever she entered the cage to bring the cub food, change its water, and clean away its dung. She had thought that this was unavoidable. But when she left the cage and watched to see if it ate, she noticed that it began gnawing violently at its fur as soon as the paralysis wore off, almost as if it thought there was some evil creature inside and was trying to rip it out and kill it. Elin had not used the whistle since. The cub’s wound had already closed, and Esalu had told her that she would not be coming to tend Leelan’s wound for a week. Although Elin had pointed out that the right wing still drooped as though it hurt, the headmistress had said, “If you hurt your leg, you’d use it cautiously, too, at first. You might even limp for a while after it heals.” She had given Elin seven days to do what she liked before she came to check on the cub again, but had warned her to tell her immediately if she noticed any change in its condition. Seven precious days. For that time at least, Elin decided to refrain from using the whistle and devote herself to watching the cub. She could open the door and push water and food in as far as she could by hand. The cub’s urine would drain away naturally on the slanted floor. Although she didn’t like the idea of leaving the stall dirty, after some anxious consideration, she decided that a few days would not hurt. After all, Leelan did not produce much dung right now anyway. Soon after, the cub stopped biting itself almost entirely, although Elin was still not completely sure if this was related. As she watched the motionless figure, she tried to imagine what it was thinking. It must perceive sounds and sights quite differently from human beings. Still, we must have some things in common, too. Surely feelings such as our longing to be cuddled by our mothers and our sadness when we are left alone must be similar? The dark stall must remind Leelan of the warm darkness beneath its mother. If so, then wouldn’t light remind it of its mother’s absence? Wouldn’t it bring back those fearful memories of waiting alone and afraid in the nest without its mother’s body protecting it, and of being captured by the Beast Hunters? But without light, Leelan could not see her food. Tomura and the headmistress had said that other animals could recognize food by smell and that Royal Beasts were no exception, but Elin sensed that this was not so. Of course, smell was important, but wouldn’t being able to see it be important, too? When Elin closed her eyes, she could detect food with her nose. But it was hard to tell if it was safe to eat without seeing it. It would take courage to put it in her mouth. If, like Leelan, she were already terrified by everything around her, if any little thing startled or frightened her, wouldn’t she be even more afraid to eat something that she couldn’t see? When she had ignored Joeun’s scolding and gone repeatedly to watch the Royal Beasts, she had been impressed by the mother’s keen eyesight. Soaring in the heavens, it seemed to spot prey from an incredible distance and would swoop out of the sky to hurtle unerringly toward it. Then, returning to its nest where its cub waited, it would bob its head up and down with the prey gripped in its fangs and make that distinctive harp-like sound—lon, lon, lon. The cub would respond with its own cry and then devour the meat. What would happen if she waved the meat up and down in front of Leelan instead of just placing it on the floor inside the cage? Elin tried hanging the meat from the end of a broomstick and waving it through the bars, but as usual there was no response. The light from the door did not reach far enough inside the cage for Leelan to see it clearly. Placing the broom and the meat on the ground, Elin sat down and sank her chin into her hand. If only there was a bit more light … In the evening, the light slanting through the door reached as far as Leelan’s feet, yet the cub did not seem alarmed … Elin suddenly opened her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t afraid because even when protected beneath its mother some light would have reached its feet. Only when the mother stood up and stretched her wings would it have been exposed to light from above. For Leelan, maybe light was something that should come from below. When she shared this idea with Tomura, who had come to check up on her, his thick eyebrows came together in a frown. “You want me to remove a board from the wall?… I can’t do that without permission.” He had stalked off grumbling to himself, but it appeared that he had indeed gotten permission, for he returned that afternoon with some tools. “Please be as quiet as possible,” Elin said. “I don’t need you to tell me that.” He picked up a long iron crowbar and carefully began pulling out the nails while Elin went inside the stable and watched Leelan. After the last nail had been removed, Tomura slid one end of the crowbar between the planks and put his weight on it. There was a creaking of wood as the plank came loose and then the afternoon sun spread across the floor. Elin held her breath. The shaft of light reached up the Beast cub’s legs all the way to its belly, but although it lowered its head slightly and blinked repeatedly, it did not flinch. Elin let out her breath. Her hands were shaking. Thank goodness … Leelan had shown no fear. Just as she had thought, it was the angle of the light that was important. It was just a small thing, but the fact that her idea had hit the mark made her so happy she wanted to jump up and down. Quietly she went outside. “How did it go?” Tomura asked, tapping his boot with the end of the crowbar. The expression on Elin’s face told him the answer. “It’s not scared. The light comes all the way up to its belly, but it looks calm.” Elin beamed, and Tomura smiled back, perhaps because it was the first time he had seen her smile like this. “Really? That’s great.” Elin nodded. “Yes. With that much light, it will be able to see the food. I’m going to wave the meat in front of it.” Tomura looked exasperated. “You’re still saying that? It can detect food by the smell. It knows there’s food there but just won’t eat. That’s why we’ve been having so much trouble trying to care for it.” “Yes, I know … But I’m still going to try.” Elin went to the shed behind the dorm and got a spear that the students used for fishing. Balancing a hunk of meat on a broom handle and waving it up and down had proven quite difficult. This time she would skewer it to the end of the spear. She stuck a piece on the spear point to see how it worked and found that it was surprisingly heavy. She had difficulty waving it, and the meat slipped off as soon as the point angled slightly downwards. She would have to cut it smaller. She tried a hunk half the normal size and found that this was more doable. Tomura was still there when she returned to the stable. He grinned when he saw her newly invented tool. “Ah, I see what you’ve done. At least it’s better than that broom you were using.” Elin blushed and took the fishing spear into the stable. Tomura stood beside the door and peered inside. Although he had only removed one plank, there was enough light now that he could see Leelan from the doorway. The cub seemed to be used to Elin. When she came into the stable, it merely raised its head without flapping its wings. She approached the cage softly. Where should she put the spear through the bars to make the movement look natural to Leelan? How would its mother have done it? She closed her eyes and conjured up the image of the mother Beast tenderly caring for its young on the rock shelf. With the prey in its mouth, the mother had bobbed her head as if bowing deeply, dropping the food from the cub’s eye level down to its legs … Elin opened her eyes and pushed the fishing spear through the bars at chest height. Using the crossbar of the cage as a lever, she raised the meat to Leelan’s eye level and then dropped it down to its feet. The cub moved its head, following it. Then it brought its face close as if to sniff it. Leelan’s smelling it! This was the first time Leelan had shown any interest in food. Standing with bated breath, Elin heard a sound like that of a harp string being plucked. Lon-lon-lon. It’s talking! But it was different from the wild cub’s cry of joy before devouring its mother’s offering. The cub raised its head and looked at Elin, meeting her eyes and staring straight at her. This, too, was a first. It kept repeating that singsong call. And as it did so, it tilted its head, looking first at the meat and then at Elin. It’s asking me something. Elin’s pulse quickened. What could it be asking me? How should I answer it? I’ve got to do something or … But she did not know what to do. She stood frozen, unable to move, and as she stared at Leelan, she saw the light gradually fade from the cub’s eyes. It ceased its cries. Its eyes shifted away from the food, and it returned to the same posture as before. Hot tears burned inside Elin’s nose and trickled from her eyes. Leelan had spoken to her, but she had been unable to answer. If she had, Leelan might have eaten. She had been so close … Elin shook the spear, dropping the meat at Leelan’s feet, and then withdrew it from the cage. When she went outside, Tomura’s face was full of excitement and curiosity. “It looked like Leelan sniffed the meat.” Elin nodded without speaking. Tomura frowned. “And didn’t it make a strange noise?” Elin blinked. “Strange noise?” “Like a harp being plucked.” Elin stared at him. “But that’s how Royal Beasts communicate.” Tomura’s eyes widened. “What? I’ve never heard any Royal Beast make that sound before. Do they sing like that in the wild?” “You mean the Royal Beasts here don’t?” Elin asked in surprise. “No. The cubs make a noise like a baby crying and the adults make a sort of groaning sound. But that’s the first time I’ve ever heard one make a sound like that.” Elin stared blankly at the stable, her mouth still partly open. The pair of Beasts she had watched on that rock ledge had frequently communicated in that singsong way. She had never imagined that the Beasts here would not. But now that she thought about it, she realized she had never heard the Beasts in the meadow or Leelan call like that … until today. She stood lost in thought, absently stroking one ear. Why had the cub made that sound? And why hadn’t it done so before? “Hey, are you listening?” She started at the sound of Tomura’s voice and opened her eyes. “Oh, yes, sorry. What were you saying?” Tomura rolled his eyes. “I asked if Royal Beasts sing like that in the wild. You haven’t answered me yet.” “Oh, yes, they do. Frequently. But I wonder why the Royal Beasts here don’t,” she muttered to herself. Lowering her head, she went back into the stable, still stroking her ear. Leelan had turned once again into a motionless shadow. The meat lay untouched on the ground like a piece of stone. The cub must be hungry, so why wouldn’t it eat? Elin hunched down and rested her chin on her knees. Any creature, no matter what the species, would eat if it were starving, because not to do so would mean certain death. What on earth could be strong enough to suppress even the impulse of hunger? What was going on in the cub’s mind? What was it thinking? Humans sometimes took their own life by choice. Were there animals that could do that, too? But Leelan was asking me something … The cub had sniffed the meat and then looked at her and cried … as if asking her whether it was all right to eat … If she had been able to say yes, in the language of the Royal Beasts, would it have eaten? Elin crossed her arms on top of her knees and buried her face inside them. The Beasts communicated in a language different from that of humans; their thought patterns must be different, too. If she could understand their language and their way of thinking, maybe she could convince Leelan to eat. But that would involve tremendous effort. Could Leelan survive for as long as it would take Elin to find the key? Long ago, when she had lost her own mother, she had not eaten for two full days, yet she had not felt hungry. Maybe once one passed a certain point, the body’s natural instincts became so distorted that, oblivious to hunger, one gradually grew weaker, both physically and mentally, slowly disintegrating toward death like a pile of sand. Raising her head, she looked at the shadow huddled on the other side of the bars. Would that cub, its life upset by the tragedy that had overtaken it, die confused in this darkness, never eating, unaware that it was starving? Probably yes, as long as Elin remained unable to answer its question. A sharp pain shot through her breast, as if she had been stabbed with a needle, and in its wake came a hot rush of sadness. Maybe I’ll be too late. That night Elin skipped supper. She simply had no appetite. Curled up in her blanket, she lay on her side, but for a long time she could not sleep. When she finally dozed off, her mind was filled with dreams. One image ran through her brain repeatedly: the Royal Beast flying home to its young. Singing tenderly, lon, lolon, lon … lon, lolon, lon, it waved a chunk of meat before its little one. The cub sang back, adoringly, then bobbed its head and attacked the meat. For some reason, it kept looking at her while it sang. Lon lon. As the sound echoed in her ears, the scene changed to Joeun’s house. Joeun was proudly showing her his harp and plucking the strings. The tone, he told her, could be changed by rubbing the strings slightly as one stroked them. He plucked a string, lon, and at that sound, Elin’s eyes flew open. For a moment, she stared into the blackness. Then, throwing off her blanket, she jumped up and dashed out of the stable.