"It's only a lump and a minor concussion. I'd say our guest suffers more from exhaustion than anything else."
Wulf the gatekeeper spoke respectfully to the Washi, the speaker for the city's highest authority on such matters.
The Speaker replied gently, "they knew no closer place to find care for her; they chose well. Be at peace."
Wulf allowed tension to drain from his clenched shoulders. He'd agreed with the traders' hard decision, but had feared the masked Speaker would find fault with them, or with him for admitting their unconscious burden through the gate. Such a thing had not happened in his many years at his post, nor even in the lore he knew of the city's past. An outlander inside these walls? Monumental and unheard-of event!
He glanced nervously back at the intruder, who was sitting quietly amid the flowers of the gatehouse courtyard in a weathered canvas trenchcoat, running a hand through unwashed brown hair. "Then I will have the traders take the outsider with them when they depart," the gatekeeper said, much relieved. "All will yet be well..."
Naturally at this exact moment, the scruffy vagabond spoiled all his plans by arrogantly striding right up to the intimidating Communicator without so much as a "by your leave." Arms hanging from gun belt and positively bristling with defiance the round-faced traveler growled-
"My name is Kino."
A Tale of a Pure Land
-Song from the Nest
There was something very wrong with the sky.
It lit up to a charcoal gray, faded back to a black made even more impenetrable by the light, and then back again. The grayness silhouetted the very highest leaves of the trees, and there was a strange dull throb.
The traveler stared at the odd sky, then she looked down at the ground. Sure enough, she could see the dirt and pebbles more clearly by the gray. The intermittent light was not her imagination.
She simply couldn't be bothered by it.
"Kino?"
The voice of Hermes, her mount and companion. Kino was what the traveler called herself. She was young as professional vagabonds went, and deceptively fragile looking. Kino looked at her world through gray eyes that sparkled when she talked about her travels. She had seen that special spark in mirrors or still pools of water. The traveler who had brought Hermes to her had also shared his wanderlust, and Kino didn't know which gift she treasured more.
The voice came from her bike. Hermes was a working motorcycle, which meant he worked very well, and had plenty of dints and dings and usually half a pound of mud spattered all over him. Hermes also spoke, an eccentricity Kino's acquaintances were forced to accept.
Tonight, Kino hurt. She had ridden hard, for hours through the night. She rode because the people behind her had frightened her, badly. She had seen dreadful things that left her gut tied in a knot. Finally they had tried to murder her, and Kino had killed a man. The man she'd shot died in an instant; Kino had a lifetime to live with the memory. Though she thought herself blameless, she wasn't the sort who could kill a man without hurting.
So Kino rode. She rode out into the darkness, trying to put the place into her past as quickly as possible. She rode hard until she could ride no more, until she barely had the strength to build a campfire. Just now, whatever was making the noise and the mysterious light in the sky would have to wait. She no longer cared if she camped next to a lighthouse or a factory or flying saucers.
"Sorry," Kino answered. "Drifted off for a moment. I'm tired. What was the question, Hermes?"
"Why do you continue the journey, even when you find something like this?" The motorcycle asked.
"There's no real reason, I guess," she answered listlessly. "Sometimes I feel that I may be a hopelessly stupid and narrow-minded person. That maybe I'm a terribly dirty human being. I don't know why, but I feel that way sometimes."
Kino heard herself speaking and she felt shocked. She really was feeling low! "Maybe I'm continuing the journey to understand it better," she quickly added, trying to show a little more spirit. But she could still hear how hollow both her voice and her answer sounded.
She chatted a little longer, just to be polite, but she could hardly wait to say, "I'm going to sleep. Good night, Hermes." Then she kicked dirt over the campfire. She felt a pang of fear just as she did so. That strange pulsing light in the sky was more obvious now, without the fire. Well, if anything meant her ill a campfire could only draw it nearer. She trusted she'd wake up if anything bad was going to happen, and she surrendered herself to luck and to sleep.
But it took longer than she expected. Images flashed unbidden in her mind: bullets riddling a line of laundry hung out to dry, a man's look of horror seen just past iron gun sights, a rocket detonating inside a neat thatched cottage, and a haughty, matronly woman explaining it all away as if these were the most natural things in the world.
Why do you continue the journey
...even when you find something like this?
"Kino? Good morning."
Kino opened her eyes, as expected, to darkness. She did not expect the thick fog. This was bad, and all too common in spring. Here was the kind of fog that enforced slow driving and hid danger.
"Thank you, Hermes," Kino croaked. Stand-to, her master had called this. An enemy would move closer in the darkness and attack by the morning sun. Soldiers would therefore awaken and prepare for battle in the dark. Kino had never yet been attacked in the morning but she felt the self discipline was healthy for her. Travelers could not afford to weaken.
The night's chill, the perspiration not yet dried from her clothes, and yesterday's miseries had all conspired to make her ill. Kino felt it as soon as she tried to sit up. Her nose and head felt stuffed with thick cotton. Her limbs ached. She felt worse than she had before she'd slept.
"Gah... this is not good at all."
"Kino, you don't sound well."
"I'm not. Nothing to be done about it. Let's just hope the next town has a hot spring." Kino believed in luck, not miracles. "Ugh! I can dream, right?"
She'd slept in her traveling gear, wary of trouble. Kino stood, arranged her clothes around her, then-
-SNAP!-
-she yanked a heavy pistol from its holster and faster than thought, settled the sights onto a knothole of a nearby tree. Fast, Kino thought, but not quite as fast as usual. Again and again she drew, first with the forty-four at her thigh, then with the twenty-two hidden at her back. But her arms felt sluggish.
"What's wrong?"
"Sick. Maybe the fog. Maybe because I let yesterday get me down."
"Now I'm worried. We're lost, you're sick and I'm running low on fuel. Again."
"Yeah. Well, no point in waiting." With a grunt she climbed onto the bike and kick-started the engine. "Maybe we can find some fuel at that factory or whatever it was nearby. Maps too, so I can be sure never to come back here again."
"Kino... don't you think driving in this fog is dangerous? Shouldn't we wait for the sun?"
"So we trade charcoal-gray soup for a pale white one? I'll just drive slowly. It'll be hours before this mess burns away."
"I think we should wait."
"Rejected. Go forward when you can't go back."
"We never can," Hermes retorted. And that was that.
As predicted, the dawn brought little relief. Kino and Hermes struggled onward through the ghostly white soup. They found no factory though, no lighthouse and certainly no flying saucers. They found no trace of whatever had put on that light show the night before.
The ground turned strange, hard and packed with thick, slippery fields of dead leaves on either side of the hard-worn path. Kino felt her ears pop. They'd been riding uphill for a long time. She pulled her scarf over her chin.
"This must be a pass road. No wonder the fog's getting thicker." Kino's gray eyes narrowed and peered into the matching gray miasma.
"Kino? What are you doing?" Hermes demanded. "We're lost in this fog, I'm running out of—"
"We keep going! Unless you have a better plan?"
"You're pushing your luck again. We shouldn't have run so far yester—WHOA!"
Hermes' back wheel hit a slick spot and the bike fish-tailed. Kino expertly countered the skid but the wet leaves were too much for them. Hermes toppled over a few feet ahead. The world whirled about her and Kino realized she was falling! She managed to grab a small plant growing from the hard, knobby ground just before a thud left her seeing blood-red stars.
Clumsy! she scolded herself. I wasn't going that fast. I must be sicker than I thought.
"Uh, Kino?"
"Yes, Hermes. I'm alright. I'll get you up in just a moment." She looked around and saw she'd landed in a small pit of soft dirt and leaves surrounded by what appeared to be petrified wood. Her hands scrabbled about for purchase and she started to haul herself out.
A hand wrapped itself around her wrist and easily pulled her to her feet!
Kino stifled a yelp. The man who stood before her, and it was a man, wore a hood and a mask that concealed the lower half of his face. Kino stopped to look at the man's strong spidery hand and thin wrist, at the brown robes he wore: heavily embroidered, thick. Aside from the mask and his imposing height he seemed to pose no threat. He had helped her out of that pit. Best to try being polite.
"Thank you. I'm fine. Is there a town nearby?"
No answer. The robed figure turned toward an identically dressed companion Kino now saw half hidden by the fog.
"Pardon me. I'm sick and bone tired and hurt, and my bike's almost completely out of fuel."
The men in robes paused, as if to consider.
In truth, the gravity of her situation only dawned on her then. If Hermes ran out of fuel she was in no condition to walk him over this rough pass road, or whatever it was. And she'd seen nothing but night-shrouded desolation the way they'd come. Before now she had taken elaborate precautions to avoid just such a predicament.
What is wrong with you? Kino shouted inside her head.
She blinked. A little sweat dripped into her left eye. She brushed it away and her glove came back smeared red.
Uh oh! Kino felt her knees give way a little. She recognized that feeling and knew she was in trouble. She did not want to faint just now, so she set her teeth and tried to tough it out.
The figure turned back toward her, as if considering. The mask and robe made him intimidating. Kino automatically let her right arm go limp, ready to draw her pistol.
"Not very talkative, are they?" Hermes commented.
The robed figures turned away.
With a chuff of exasperation Kino gave up on the silent men and walked over to Hermes. She grunted as she lifted him upright and brushed mud-caked dirt from him.
"They look like monks," she said. "Maybe they're under a vow of silence."
"Are you alright, Kino?" Hermes' voice sounded far away. Kino looked out at a world suddenly gone dim and she knew she wouldn't be able to fight it this time. The effort of lifting Hermes up—
"KINO!"
Go forward when you can't go back.
We never can.
Trees, the wind rippling through them, dappled sunlight and a crow flapping black wings between fluffy white clouds - Kino admired the view, and remembered a gentle voice from her past. "...whenever people see birds flying through the sky, they feel the urge to go on a journey." Such a fine sight to wake up to!
Wake up? Oh yes. I blacked out, didn't I?
Kino turned her head to look about. She saw a courtyard, cobblestones with white brick planters surrounding the trees. She felt something wet snuffling at her right ear. Kino turned her head again and found herself nose to nose with a dog... a big one! It backed away and growled. A little yelp escaped Kino's throat.
Rottweiler. Can be dangerous, but there's a collar. Must have an owner somewhere.
"Down, Guy!"
A man the voice belonged to came into view and with a gesture, the dog backed away and sat down calmly to observe.
Well trained guard dog, Kino noted to herself.
"Sorry he frightened you, young sir. How are you feeling?" the man asked. Kino looked him over. He was a tall, severe looking man with a receding hairline and mustache, wearing an official-looking gray embroidered tunic.
Kino smiled at the "sir" and didn't correct him. She'd taken careful steps to create the illusion that she was a small male; among other reasons it was safer on the road that way. She offered Guy a limp hand to sniff, the polite way to introduce oneself to dogs. Kino had always liked dogs.
"Passable. I usually wake up with a bad headache after something like that." She reached up to her head and felt a scab and a small lump.
"Don't touch that. I tended to it. It's only a small cut; I'm surprised it knocked you out."
"I'm more ill than hurt." Kino sat up. "Where am I?"
"The gatehouse," the man answered simply. "I'm Wulf, the gatekeeper."
"And this is Guy?" By this point the dog was happily letting Kino rub his ears and scratch his scalp. Good boy. "Funny, that sounds like a story..." Kino said, "...but I can't remember which one."
Kino stood up and, seeing Hermes waiting just outside the patio, started walking toward him. "Well, thank you for your trouble."
"Just a moment, now!" the gatekeeper seemed on the verge of physically restraining her. "You just sit there for a bit."
Kino obediently sat again and watched as the gatekeeper rushed over to speak with another masked man in robes, this one wearing a faded blue gray. From the gatekeeper's attitude, Kino quickly deduced who was in charge. A theocracy? Kino frowned and brushed some errant hair away from her face. Wouldn't be the first she'd encountered and they were always trouble.
The heck with this! She stood up, walked over and planted herself directly across from the robed man.
"My name is Kino."
The gatekeeper grimaced. Obviously she'd presumed too much speaking directly to this formidable person. Kino tried to respect the customs of the places she visited, but her recent experience had left her impatient with authority figures.
"Is that so?" the tall man answered. The eerie mask he turned her way wore bore a central black disk like a camera lens. He had a resonant, powerful voice and Kino was surprised to feel herself sweating.
Yow, he's intimidating! Damned if I'll let him see it.
"I'm a traveler. I enjoy visiting new places. This place looks very interesting," Kino said, pleased with her calm facade.
"I expect it would."
From his tone, this masked fellow was quietly amused by Kino's insolence. That made Kino think a little better of him.
"May I look around, then?"
Wulf the gatekeeper seemed flustered. "Unheard of! Kino, we have not..." But a gesture from the robed man stopped him as effectively as a similar gesture had checked the dog.
"Three days. I will leave the day after tomorrow," Kino said. The words were almost a ritual with her, for she never stayed longer than that.
"Young lady, will you give me your word you will obey the laws of this place?" asked the masked monk.
Oh ho! This one is not so easily fooled.
"Of course." Kino remembered a traveler who'd failed to respect a local law. She appreciated his reasons but had no desire at all to follow his example. "But please don't call me 'young lady.' It's a little embarrassing."
"Traveler, you must not discuss the outside world with anyone you meet here, or you will be thrown out immediately. This is most important."
Strange!
"Also," here the man swept a robed arm at the city walls looming over them, "you must not touch the walls. They are dangerous."
Wulf looked rapidly from the masked monk to Kino and back, making little choking noises. "Her weapons?" he finally stammered.
The robed stranger stared in Kino's direction for a long moment, as if considering. Then, "you won't need those."
"No offense, but I've heard that before. Electrified walls... is this a prison?"
"No, this is not a prison."
"I agree to your terms," Kino promised, and she meant it.
With a final respectful bow, she turned toward Hermes. Kino favored the gatekeeper with a smile and snickered at the expression he wore. As for that masked man in robes, whatever mysteries lurked behind his mask remained mysteries.
Hermes' engine growled as he threaded his way slowly through the people walking the street. Kino felt lucky that her clothes didn't stand out too much. From the gatekeeper's reaction this place rarely saw visitors. But with her scarf up and goggles down, the locals might not even notice her.
Her experienced eyes took in the surroundings. Pleasant town, just run-down enough to be homey, and backward enough to be restful. Cottages and the kind of buildings preferred by mountain-dwellers. Eclectic design, though: Gothic revival with odd and diverse touches. The medieval parts had been wonderfully crafted and aged to appear authentic. Vines and moss grew all over them.
Wait! You don't suppose the medieval stuff is real?
The road she followed ran straight; the side streets curved forward on both sides, a radial pattern. Besides a grid, this was the most common arrangement Kino had found.
The ground was sandy beige, free of iron-red or volcanic-black. Far from the best soil for agriculture. Passable for citrus and figs if there was enough sun, but this thin air meant cold winters. Carrots and potatoes were likely the best the locals could manage. Kino noted to herself not to overdo; the altitude was already making her feel lightheaded.
She'd seen some horse-drawn buggies and a few tractors. They had electric lights but no technology she'd not seen before. Clearly rural, a boring backwater. Excellent! She could sleep herself out and miss nothing.
"Kino?"
"Yes, Hermes?"
"Why don't they want us to talk about the outside world?
Kino glanced up at the magnificent city walls. Were they to keep bandits out, or the people inside, or both? She'd seen both. How did a town like this even maintain such walls, let alone build them?
"Let's not ask."
"We've traveled together a lot. Strange things like that usually hide some scary secret. Remember last time?"
Kino winced. "Too well! This time let's just tiptoe around it, alright? I need a hotel, a long hot bath and sleep, in a real bed for once. And you need fuel. Again." Kino chuckled at the barb. Fuel had led the pair into so many misadventures she now filled Hermes' tank as early as possible, just in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
"I don't see any inns. But that's the fifth sign like that I've seen here. Do you recognize it?"
Kino noted the odd winged-happy-face sign. "Nope."
They reached a circular plaza. As expected, Kino saw other streets branching away like spokes. A fountain lapped playfully at the city's heart.
"Town center. I like it."
Just beside her loomed a tall clock tower. Kino caught sight of somebody darting off from a high balcony. She watched the space for a while, but nothing threatening emerged.
Still, always pays to be careful.
"That bike's seen better days," said Hermes.
"Hmm?"
"There's a scooter parked just behind that clock tower. Old model."
"The pot just called the kettle something, Hermes."
Nobody was near the fountain. If they had customs against using it, Kino couldn't be bothered just now. She shut off Hermes' engine and clomped over to the inviting pool. Kino pulled the dusty goggles from her eyes and the scratchy scarf from her face. Then she yanked her hands from her leather gloves and dipped them into the water.
The water felt cool, good. She cupped it into her hands and splashed it onto her hot face. She heard herself gasp and she let it run down her face in rivulets and drip down her shoulders, and felt a little better at last.
"Heeeey!" Hermes' voice.
Kino turned. Somebody squatted next to Hermes, head darting about as their attention turned from part to part. This stranger was inspecting -no, ogling!- Hermes' throttle, engine and exhaust pipes.
Scavenger. Just what I needed.
Kino decided not to draw on the intruder just yet; she'd recently read a newspaper report about a traveler who'd over-reacted to something similar. Best to stay low key. As she approached the newcomer turned already wide eyes to Kino, and widened them still further.
"You're... you're new here?"
"That's an interesting hello," Hermes commented.
"I'd know you already with a bike like this!" The newcomer looked about ready to jump out of her skin as she hopped up from her crouch to look Kino over, a dark haired girl in grease-stained, worn gray overalls and with startling eyes so dark they were almost black. Kino felt a little self-conscious under such scrutiny. "Who're you?" she asked. "Where'd you come from? How'd you get in?"
So much for low key, Kino thought.
"Whoa!" said Hermes. "What is - that?"
Kino started to ask, but then she noticed it: a thin golden ring hovered directly over the young woman's short, messy hair. Kino blinked. Some part of her mind was already busy trying to figure out how this little trick had been accomplished. Magnetism? The disk didn't look like iron, and in fact seemed to shine with a golden light all its own. The girl's unkempt hair didn't appear to hide any magnets.
The pair, standing almost the same height, gaped at each other with mirrored expressions of wonder.
"You have a halo," Kino said, not even trying to hide her astonishment. Kino had seen such many times before... in artwork. Never like this, never for real.
"And your motorcycle talks."
The swift riposte left Kino stammering. "Okay... I think you have me there."
Kino had witnessed some extreme responses to Hermes. Some people wanted to know where the processor and voice synthesizer were hidden. Others wanted to exorcise it. One fellow even insisted that Kino suffered delusions from some childhood trauma. Not the time to get into it, Kino thought.
Besides, the newcomer had already returned to poking about Hermes like a curious kid. At least the girl looked like a kid; she sounded older. A prodigy?
"Brough Superior," the young woman said with a hushed, almost awed tone.
"Bravo!" Hermes sounded very flattered. "That's exactly right. I'm Hermes."
"Kana," the stranger answered. "Where'd you two come from?"
"I'm Kino," Kino interjected, her vanity pricked by being upstaged by her own bike. "Nice to meet you, Kana. And before you start, I gave my word not to talk about that."
"Ohh... the Washi?" Kana looked up with a disgusted frown.
"Eh?"
"The communicator. Blue robe? Mask?"
"Yes, that's him."
The girl scoffed and returned her attention to the bike. Kino took the opportunity to waggle her hand between Kana's halo and her head. The halo floated, unaffected. That's when Kino noticed the all-too-cute wings on Kana's back. Unusual, but Kino had traveled too long to be surprised. There was this town where everybody wore cat ears...
"So, are those in fashion here?" Kino squatted down next to Kana. The native seemed harmless but Kino wanted to make certain she didn't swipe any parts, and she wanted a closer look at those gray feathers.
"These?" Kana chuckled mischievously, and she abruptly flapped the undersized wings in Kino's face.
Kino jumped back with a squawk! Kana crowed in triumph.
"Ha hah! Sorry, I've always wanted to do that. Never got the chance before."
"Those are real?" Hermes and Kino asked simultaneously, provoking another guffaw from Kana.
"That or I'm hiding a swan back here." Kana's wings had shed a feather. She picked it up and handed it to Kino, who gave Kana a skeptical look.
"You can't fly with those."
"Of course not! Much too small."
"Then why?"
"Don't ask me. All the haibane have them. Big heapin' nuisance too. They sting when feathers grow back in, and they itch!"
"Hi-bane?" asked Hermes.
"Hai-bah-nay," Kino corrected Hermes as she pocketed the feather. "Kana, you are already one of the most intriguing persons I've ever met. But right now I'm in dire need of a hotel. Can you point one out?"
Kana gave Kino a long look. "A hotel." Then inexplicably, Kana started laughing.
My name is Kino.
...Is that so?
Kana raised her finger to her mouth, shushing the pair following her. "I mean it," Kana warned, "not a sound. She's not well."
Kana's first companion was a mousy blonde with glasses who was almost trembling with eager curiosity about the newcomer. Her name was Hikari. The second was a smaller, more timid girl whose amber eyes, whatever mood she was in, seemed to perpetually beg for a hug. This was Rakka. They each had halos and gray winglets just like Kana's; all three were haibane.
The trio stood in a long dark corridor with windows on one side and facing doors at the other. This was a dormitory, or perhaps a large priory. The haibane who lived there called it Old Home. Old Home was very old, as old as it was vast. Tile cracked, wood floors creaked, wiring and plumbing couldn't be counted on, ceilings leaked and at night the place was scary even if you lived there.
Kana gently pushed the door open on freshly oiled hinges.
This was a tiny room right next to the haibanes' common den, recently arranged as a guest bedroom. The trio of elder haibane clustered at the threshold, wings ruffling in excitement and suspense. Three heads peeked through the doorway, chins just grazing the quivering halo below.
The outlander, Kino, lay on the bed, very much asleep, still wearing her canvas jacket. Her khaki trench coat was draped over a bedpost, the holster of a gun belt just visible beneath it.
The blonde, Hikari, stared at the firearm and wondered if this newcomer was dangerous. But then she saw the traveler's arms wrapped around her pillow like a child clutching its mother, her round face just peeking out of the sheets. In sleep the tough traveler had lost all pretences and looked about as dangerous as a freshly hatched haibane child.
Kana pulled the door closed and waved them away, toward their common room.
"It's almost like a hatchling," Hikari whispered, continuing the train of thought in her head. "She's tired and needs a place to rest."
-SNAP!-
"Rakka?"
"Oh! Sorry, Kana. I thought I heard something." The brown haired haibane tiptoed away from the door. "I don't want to sound inhospitable, but should we be doing this? Are we allowed to let her stay here?"
"The housemother sleeps here all the time," Kana whispered.
"This is different," Rakka said.
"What makes it different? The housemother's not a haibane," Hikari countered.
"Let's stop tiptoeing around it," Kana answered with her usual directness. She spoke normally now that they'd arrived in their den. "Kino is from outside. She even called herself a traveler."
"Did she come in the gate with the Touga?" Rakka asked.
"That's anybody's guess. But just the fact that she's from outside is huge!"
"We can ask all sorts of questions when she wakes up," Hikari chirped.
Kana shook her head. "The Washi got to her first. Soon as I asked her about the outside Kino clammed up tight as a Touga."
"Well, that's useful!" Hikari scoffed. "So this is about you bringing in a stray cat, like Kuu used to?" Hikari glanced over to Rakka and added, "Nemu put her foot down when one of them gave her ringworm."
"Ew!" Rakka made a face.
"And I know it's unkind, but she smells like a stray cat too," Hikari finished.
"I know," Kana nodded, and abruptly her face turned thoughtful. "I saw circles under her eyes. Somebody's put her through a wringer."
The trio stood next to the dining table in the common room but, and Kana felt some satisfaction at this, they were all too excited to sit down.
"A cat can't tell us what's outside the walls."
"But you just said—?"
"Hikari, I'm picking tidbits up just by listening. That's probably why the Touga are forbidden to speak at all. "Either of you ever heard of a Brough Superior?"
"A bruff what now?"
"Hermes, Kino's bike, is a very rare motorcycle." Kana explained. "How do I know that? Who was I that I'd know that? I feel like I should know all about it but... it just isn't there!"
Blank looks. The other two weren't getting it.
"Hikari, did you even remember guns existed before you saw Kino's sidearm? Rakka, what's a hotel?"
"A place for travelers to rest."
"Naturally. And have you seen one in town?"
Rakka and Hikari considered, then chuckled.
"Of course not!" Rakka said. "No travelers."
"Nobody but the Touga can go in or out of the wall," Hikari added.
"So why do we remember the word? When she said it I even remembered what a hotel looks like."
"If we talk to her long enough..." Rakka said slowly, deliberately, "who knows what we might remember...?"
Kana smiled grimly. It had taken a while, but they'd finally caught on.
"Kana," Hikari said with dawning admiration, "that's clever!"
"Too clever," Rakka snapped. "I think you're going to get us in trouble. When the Renmei hears about this I bet they'll throw a conniption."
Kana pulled out a chair, straddled it and smirked at her friends.
"Okay Kana," Hikari put a comforting arm 'round Rakka's shoulders. "We'll play along. And if something does go wrong we're gonna make a pillow out of you."
-SNAP!-
Did that door move?
Kino sat upright in the bed, peering through the darkness at the door. It appeared to be closed. Had she dreamed it moved? She felt as if she was being watched.
Kino looked at her outstretched arm, at the twenty-two in her hand, laser-sight trained on the door. She'd drawn the gun without thinking, before she was even awake. Part of her felt pleased with herself. But somehow in this strange place she also felt a little... ashamed? The weapon felt foreign here, as if simply holding it was ungrateful. And Kana had given her no cause to feel afraid. She couldn't have done more to make Kino feel welcome.
You won't need those. The robed man's words came into her head unbidden, and Kino obediently put the pistol into the clip at the small of her back. With that, she allowed herself to flop into the bed with a huge yawn and in seconds she was fast asleep again.
Why don't you like getting involved with other people, Kino?
Because we're just passing through.
Every once in a while, Kino would find moments of pure bliss amid the hardships and toil of life. Feeling hot water work its magic on aching muscles and feet was one of them.
Floating. Warm.
Kino jolted. She had actually dozed off in the bath! She was sitting in the lower half of an old barrel, up to her chin in water. She remembered a lovely dream about people with feathers and haloes. Voices had awakened her. Her hosts, the hai-bah-nay, were up and about or... or had they been part of the dream?
"Can't be..." she murmured.
Kino savored the water a few moments longer, until curiosity overcame her and she pulled herself out of the wooden tub.
As usual, Hikari was already up and cooking breakfast when the muted bell of Old Home's clock tower softly rang its morning chime and Rakka walked into the den.
"Smells great. You're getting good at this, Hikari."
"Thanks."
"Kana up?"
"Checked in ten minutes ago."
"And... our guest?" Rakka spoke with a grim tone, as if she didn't entirely trust the newcomer.
"The bathtub, thank goodness."
Rakka chuckled, only to turn and find Kino standing politely at the threshold, still steaming and her hair damp. Kino wore a wry smile and a white gown topped with an incongruous brown leather belt.
"Eep! No offense," Rakka quickly added.
Only someone who knew Kino as well as, say, Hermes, would have seen the instant of open-mouthed wonder at the sight of Rakka's halo, before it was swiftly and habitually replaced by her usual impassive expression. "None taken, I was a mess. You'd be Rakka, wouldn't you? May I join you?"
"Of course," Hikari shouted from the kitchen. "I made an extra serving for you. Hope you're hungry."
"That's Hikari," Rakka explained with a little welcoming bow. The haibane raised her eyebrows at the white shroud Kino wore.
"Any reason the closet was stuffed with these things?" Kino asked.
"Oops! We should have seen that coming. Uhm... those are old hatching robes. Sorry. We're not used to having guests."
"Hatching robes?"
The conversation was interrupted by the rattling noise of a bike's engine sputtering to life. Kino followed Rakka through a set of double doors onto a pleasant terrace.
"Kino? Rakka? Good morning." Kana shouted up at them from the building's central courtyard. Kana was mounted on her wheezing scooter in the patchy, weed-strewn grass, "I'm gonna try to get tomorrow off so we can talk. Could somebody toss breakfast down?"
Rakka shrugged and turned back inside.
"What's wrong with that thing?" Kino asked.
"Horrible, isn't it? Plain worn out. Driving it into a canal didn't help either. You don't happen to be good with bikes?"
"...as a matter of fact, yeah, if I have the right tools."
Rakka returned to toss a wrapped package down to Kana.
"Whoo-hoo!" Kana cheered over the motor's racket. "See you this afternoon."
Kino returned to the den, to find the table set with spinach omelettes and pancakes.
"Welcome to Old Home, Kino." Hikari said.
Kino smiled. "Thank you, I needed this more than you can know. How much do I owe you for the bed and breakfast?"
Rakka and Hikari shared a look. "We're not allowed to handle money."
Kino blinked, startled.
"If you can fix Reki's bike— I mean Kana's, we'll be the ones in your debt. Enjoy." Hikari started eating without further ado.
"Reki?"
"The Haibane who owned that bike before Kana," Rakka explained.
Kino sniffed. "She the one who smoked?"
"Room still smells of it?" Rakka said between mouthfuls. "We still don't know where she managed to get those cigarettes."
"That's not..." Kino halted mid-sentence, then smiled as if at some private joke. "Never mind. And forgive my table manners. I'm very hungry." Kino shrugged over the now-empty plate
"It's good to see," Hikari said and forked over a second helping. "Kana was worried about you. You've been sleeping since yesterday afternoon."
"Kana and Hikari go to work early," Rakka said. "And you naturally have a lot of questions. I can stay and answer them until just after lunch."
"I've rarely felt more in need of a tour guide."
"That'll come in handy," Rakka commented as she stood and walked over to a cabinet at the back of the room. "I've been writing a guidebook. When the three of us are gone, new hatchlings will need to know all these things."
Soon, with breakfast cleaned up and Hikari off to her job, Rakka and Kino sat out on the terrace to look over Rakka's book.
"I traced all these drawings from Reki's journal. She's the one who did the room's paintings." Here Rakka waved at the simple but competent landscapes hanging on the den's walls.
"Okay, we Haibane hatch out of big plant cocoons like this one," she pointed to a picture. "We remember practical things like how to walk and talk and ride a bike. And we all remember dreaming in the cocoons. But our names, our past lives, they're gone, just a big blank."
"You're sure you had a life before this?" Kino asked.
"The townsfolk here have babies, and they hafta learn everything. I hatched just under two years ago."
Kino's eyebrows shot up. Rakka certainly didn't look or sound anything like a two-year-old!
"We promptly sprout wings, which is not fun," Rakka continued, "we're given these haloes, and we live our lives here in Guri." Here Kino looked over the illustrations and recognized the town she'd visited yesterday. "We're not allowed to leave."
"The weird part is what we call the Day of Flight. After a few years a haibane goes off to the Western Woods and just... disappears. Kuu, Reki and Nemu all left within a few months after I hatched, leaving only burned out haloes and a handful of feathers."
"Where'd they go?" Kino asked.
Rakka shook her head.
Just beneath the elevated patio, the pair's voices carried down to the silent form of Hermes.
Rakka shouted over the wind, "oh! You can tell when a haibane's Day of Flight is coming 'cause their halo flickers." She clung to Kino's back as Hermes carried them toward the river. The tassles of Rakka's gray robe flapped in the breeze.
"Want to see how fast I can go, Rakka?" Hermes asked.
"Noooo!" But Rakka was laughing, and there was something childlike, a pure note in her laugh that made Kino feel... well, it wasn't sadness exactly. Despite the wings and haloes Rakka and her brethren seemed so ordinary and simple, yet something about them made her feel like crying and laughing all at once. She'd need time to find the right word for it.
"Besides, here's the spot." Rakka said, and Kino eased the throttle down. "We wash here all the time."
The place was perfect for laundry. Trees shaded a bend in the blue river just west of the hill with the windmills. The water ran slow and clear, and they could see the riverbed several feet below.
"Where's that bridge lead to?" Kino pointed south.
"The haibane temple. I'd love to show it to you, but I don't think it's allowed." Rakka kneeled at the water's edge and began scrubbing a sailor suit.
"Kino?" Hermes said quietly, now that Rakka's back was to them. "What do you make of all of that? Cocoons, amnesia, days of flight, haloes and wings?"
Kino spent a moment reviewing all that Rakka had told them. "I don't know what to make of it, Hermes."
"Yes you do," Hermes almost scolded. "Even I do."
Kino watched Rakka with her halo and her ash-gray wings, her gray monk's robe and her sweet little smile. With no answer to give Hermes, she walked over and joined Rakka. She piled her own clothes and began clearing the pockets and pouches of maps, knives, tools and litter.
"Rakka, what you've told me only brings up more questions." She gave her new friend a searching look. "What are the haibane?"
Rakka stopped working and returned the grave look, then her smile reappeared. "I remember asking just that. I'm told we all do. Right now you know as much as we do. Maybe more."
"Are we alive?" Kino quietly asked.
In lieu of an answer, Rakka took Kino's hand and placed it against her own throat.
"...what?" Rakka asked. "You feel it, don't you?"
I am sitting by a river, feeling the pulse of somebody with wings and a halo.
"Yes," Kino answered, and let the moment pass.
The pair set to work on the laundry while Kino tried to think of the right questions to ask.
"My turn," Rakka said. "Kana said you looked like you'd lost your best friend."
"I can't talk about that, remember?" And Kino was happy for the excuse.
Rakka sighed and called out, "Hey Hermes? Did you promise not to talk about the outside world?"
"No, but I'm bound by Kino's promise too. It'd be evocation."
It took Kino a moment to figure that one out. "Equivocation, Hermes." When Kino looked back, Rakka was pulling the gunbelt out of Kino's khaki trousers.
"Don't touch that!" Kino shouted. Rakka froze, frightened by Kino's tone. Kino noted just how skittish her new friend was. She pulled the gunbelt clear herself.
"I'm sorry." Rakka said sheepishly. "Is it not safe for me to handle that?"
"I'd just rather deal with it myself," Kino said, and set her two holstered handguns on top of the pile of knives.
Be honest, Kino. You don't want to see anyone with a halo and wings holding a gun. It's blasphemous.
"You're giving me that look again," Rakka said with some suspicion. "What's going on behind those gray eyes of yours?"
Good question, Kino thought. She didn't have an answer. In all her travels she'd found no dragons or leprechauns, no tree nymphs or river-naiads. Now she was on a first-name basis with arguably the most fantastic of fantastic creatures.
Am I really going to believe this? Is there any chance this is all a hoax?
Kino reached out and touched Rakka's halo. It sang softly under her fingers. Rakka's brown eyes looked up, following Kino's hand. Then Kino touched the wings, Rakka's perfect pearly ash-gray wings, and before she knew it she was stroking them as if mesmerized.
Real. They're real!
"I'm never going to get used to that sort of attention," Rakka murmured. When Kino saw her new friend was blushing, she reluctantly stopped petting the feathers.
"What'd you do that for?" Rakka asked.
"It was... just something I had to do," Kino heard an unfamiliar hitch in her voice, and at the same time felt her eyes start to water.
Is she...?
A sweetly wicked look crossed Rakka's face, and she abruptly shoved Kino backward. With a confused squeak, Kino fell into the river with a loud splash.
She reached the surface only to get splashed again as a laughing Rakka jumped in with her.
"What'd you do that for?"
"It was something I had to do," Rakka shouted back.
Kino sat in the den in her white shirt and khakis, alone, after Rakka said good-bye. Kino was still sitting at the table poring over Rakka's little book when Hikari entered later and found her and asked if she needed anything.
Kino gratefully shared tea with Hikari. The traveler said little, but simply sat and pondered and occasionally excused herself to resort to a hankerchief. The steaming tea was cleaning Kino's clogged head out.
Finally Hikari blushed and said, "Kino, you're embarrassing me."
"What?"
"That way you're looking at me."
Hikari's glasses magnified her already large sapphire eyes. All three Haibane had gently hypnotic eyes that made Kino feel like they could see her every thought.
Just spit it out already!
"Hikari, are the three of you angels?"
Hikari didn't even blink. "We're haibane," she answered firmly. "That's all we know. Look, this place is no paradise. We're living in a building that's barely even safe. Plus I burn breakfast all the time." Here Hikari pulled her halo to one side and released it, and the metal ring made a comical buh-whooong! noise as it bobbled left and right.
Kino giggled. She couldn't help herself.
"You think that's funny, you shoulda been there when Kuu got hers caught in the hospital's elevator."
Kino snorted at the image.
"Anyway, we have a whole town full of people who treat us like good luck charms. They're strict with us but they also mollycoddle us like kids. A few even dote on us like we're puppies or something. Please don't."
"Deal."
Hikari clinked her teacup against Kino's. "Did you know, you'd look terrific with a set of wings? They'd match your eyes."
Kino grinned. It was her turn to blush.
Humans... need to stay with, depend on, or live for someone.
-Sometimes!
The muted bell of Old Home's clock tower gently chimed in the evening, then began its long, dark wait for the morning. Kana returned just in time for dinner, covered with grease and exhausted, but pleased that she'd earned a day off tomorrow. For her part Kino, having spent her time with Rakka and Hikari, felt spent, and some melancholy fell over her like a cloak. So when dinner was done, both she and Kana agreed to turn in early.
"Did you suppose we said something wrong?" Rakka asked Hikari after their visitor retired.
"Hmm?" Hikari stopped clearing the supper dishes for a moment. "I can't imagine. Rakka, give her a little time to get used to this place. Remember how shy and frightened you were when you hatched?"
"Well, I'd lost my memory and I grew these wings. And you put this ring on my head; I still don't know how it does what it does." Rakka flicked it with a fingernail, making a loud ping!
Hikari chuckled. "If it's of any comfort I remember being a wreck, even with Nemu helping me out."
"Reki couldn't have been more helpful to me," Rakka jumped to her friend's defense.
"I know," Hikari answered gently. "I was there too."
"Kana's never found a cocoon of her own," Rakka said thoughtfully. "I've been thinking, with the clock tower working Kana's been restless. But isn't helping someone hatch something we're all s'posed to do at least once?"
"I'm not sure it works that way," Hikari gathered the last of the plates. "And it was Kana's turn to wash the dishes, drat her!"
Kino sat up in bed cleaning her weapons and pondering all she'd seen. She could feel from the tension in her neck that her head had been working overtime, trying to find some deception that would explain the haibane away. But the wheels and gears of her mind had spun without traction. The simplest answer was that Rakka and Hikari were exactly what they appeared to be. More, Rakka's sweet, childlike simplicity and Hikari's slightly wry candor - Kino instinctively trusted them.
The traveler finished polishing her firearms and, having nothing more to do with her hands, blew out the candle. Immediately the room plunged into well-like darkness. She lay back in the creaky little bed, listening to the faint music of crickets outside. Her head still spun, thinking hard about wings and haloes, cocoons and dreams and all that these things inevitably meant and promised.
The room felt cold, and Kino's thoughts whirled in the darkness and the silence.
Remove the haloes and wings and haibane were no different from humans. Those were merely trappings. Kana and Hikari and Rakka... just people. Yet they had lived somewhere before this and survived their rebirth here. Of that Kino had no further doubt. Why then had she retreated into her room? What had made her feel so forelorn and lonesome, suddenly not a welcome guest but a stranger?
Who's crying?
Kino looked up from her bed; she'd definitely heard somebody. And that's when she noticed twin wet streams running down the sides of her temples. She'd startled herself with the sound of her own weeping.
Oh, how absurd! These gentle winged creatures had somehow threaded their way past her defenses. Behold, Kino the Traveler reduced to listening to her own blubbering.
"Stop it," she commanded between ragged sobs. She scrunched her face with effort, but it was like shouting at a cloudburst. The puzzling fit had come over her so suddenly. Humiliating! What had gotten into her? She abruptly wished she'd brought Hermes indoors. Talking to him always settled her mind. Should she should go to him?
A memory came to her unbidden, a vivid image - a gentle man she'd cared about lay dying on the pavement in front of her, dying for her, the handle of a kitchen knife stuck rudely in his torso.
Two parents she'd thought had loved her reached down to pull the blade out. She was next.
"Run away!"
Yes, that's what Hermes said! So she ran. She ran as far and as fast as she could, until she forgot her name and the way back to her home. Hermes' words reverberated in her heart.
Run away! All the faces she'd said goodbye to, the disappointment in their eyes when she vanished out of their lives forever after a mere three days, the opportunities she'd deliberately ignored.
Run away! She'd been running ever since.
Kino abruptly felt disgusted with herself, as if she'd discovered some festering abscess or cyst. Kino the Imperturbable... hiding in her room. Kino the Gunslinger, living a stolen life. Kino the Coward, forced to take a good hard look at herself. If she couldn't be a friend to somebody like Kana, when could she ever... what good was traveling if all she did was change the scenery?
The sobbing waned. What -is- this place? Kino asked herself in something verging on panic. Where am I?
A calm voice answered from somewhere deeper inside her.
So Kino did what most becomes mortals so confronted, now the only thing she could do. She turned over and quietly, gratefully sobbed into her pillow.
You can't fly with those.
...then why?
The next day moved much too fast for Kino. She woke just before dawn, but she decided against her usual firearms practice. No, she vowed instead her weapons would not leave their holsters again in this place. At breakfast the Haibane said she looked like a new person, rested and vibrant. Kino spent a happy busy morning teaching Kana how to purge valves and fix a busted torsion bar. When they'd cleaned up Kana introduced her to Old Home's house matron and the children who shared this vast dormitory. The little haibane, each adorable with their oversized haloes and tiny gray wings, asked questions Kino mostly declined to answer, except in vague and evasive ways. Kino watched them play and felt just a little envious. She even, much to Kana's amusement, joined the young feathers in a game of tag.
Hikari took Kino and Kana to the town to buy fuel. The town, Guri, was quaint and friendly and dull and the visitor pronounced it "absolutely perfect." In the late afternoon Rakka surprised them all by taking them across the rope bridge to the barrel-shaped Haibane temple. Kino, by special permission, received the singular honor of peeking in the entrance and seeing the lush garden inside, alive with birdsong and surrounded by its tall ring of wood and stone. Kino stared for long minutes. On the way back Rakka told them all about the interior of the great wall and the river running through it. The busy day had rushed by so quickly, and Kino caught herself wishing that tomorrow would never come.
The sky was turning orange and evening chimes rang while Hermes slalomed between the steel masts of windmills at almost top speed. Kana strattled him, her face caught somewhere between glee and terror.
Kino leaned against the northern face of the unused building of Old Home. She watched protectively as Kana and Hermes tore across the grassy hill with the flashing steel windmills, a big grin stretched across her face.
"Hey Kana!" Hermes said when they finally idled down. "You're a huge hit. Kino's never let anyone else ride."
Kana gulped air and just held on. She'd wished for years for something faster to ride, only to find Hermes far more than her match. "Thanks for telling me."
"Sure. When I say, hit the throttle and pull hard to the right."
"What're—"
"Now!"
Hermes spun underneath Kana and she howled in real fear. But then they came to a stop and Hermes said, "see? Perfect donut." Kana looked down at the halo of dirt they'd gouged into the hillside.
"Wow!" Kana gasped.
When Hermes finally returned to Kino, Kana dismounted, plopped down on the ground and giggled long and loud.
"We had fun," Hermes said modestly.
Kana pulled herself up, still shaking, hugged Kino and said deliriously, "that is such a wonderful bike! I am so envious!"
"Hermes is something special, isn't he?"
"A deal's a deal," Kana added once she'd recovered her composure. Under the darkening sky they walked Hermes over to the pump in the middle of the dormitory's grassy square. Kana filled a bucket and started scrubbing all the accumulated mud and grime from the motorbike.
"Hermes," Kino said. "Do you remember a little girl on her first ride, you had to teach her how to shift gears?"
"I liked the pink dress," Hermes answered.
"Pink dress?" Kana cackled as she scrubbed. "Hermes, you've just wrecked Kino's tomboy image."
Kino reached down and batted Kana's halo. Bwa-wong-wong-wong.
Kana was still rinsing the bike off when she said, "Okay, I've thought up all sorts of questions."
"No."
"Huh?"
"I'm not going to answer them. At all."
"You're leaving tomorrow anyway, right? What's it matter?"
"Shame on you, Kana! You're wrecking your angelic image."
Kino watched the sun set. She'd seen many sunsets, of course. This one wasn't spectacular, but today she was watching the sun set from the courtyard of Old Home, listening to the wind whistle through the grass. That was enough.
"Kana, I'm no genius or wise man. I don't need to be to sense the... the nature of a place. And this place? Oh, where do I begin? I am not messing with it! If the man in the mask, whatever he is, doesn't want me telling you what's behind that wall, I'm not gonna argue."
Kana flopped the dirty rags on the ground, confounded. She picked up a clean towel to dry Hermes with, and finally she said, "It's alright. You just being here helps. There really is something beyond that wall. It helps a lot just knowing that."
"You think so? Kana, you haibane have something everyone out there needs. You know you had a life before this one, even if you can barely remember it. You know."
Kino looked into Kana's eyes, those amazing eyes, and oath or no, she felt that spigot turn inside her that on rare occasions let her speak honestly and from the heart.
"Kana, I've seen violence and cruelty out there, meanness and vengeance and callous unkindness which is the worst of all. I think... I think out there we feel like abandoned children, discarded and lost in a world that cares nothing for us." It occured to Kino how well those words applied to her.
They sat down together in the waning light and the traveler continued. "Here, here you can feel that you're cared for, sheltered, cherished... as surely as you can see that wall. You know the world isn't going to just throw you away when it's done with you. We can't. I couldn't, until I met the haibane."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"You would if you could remember. Maybe one day I'll be allowed to forget, just like you, if I'm very very lucky."
After a thoughtful pause Kana said, "so it's that bad out there?"
"Oh! No. No, not bad." Kino considered. How much more could she say without completely breaking her promise? She didn't want to leave Kana with that idea. "The world is not beau..." Kino's words died in her throat.
Uh uh! The old standby won't work this time.
Tentatively, timidly, Kino reached out her arm and touched Kana's feathers, and then as if by magic she found the words she needed.
"I travel. I stay three days and I move on. I don't stay longer even when I really like a place because - I don't want to miss any of it."
Kino watched as Kana considered the words, As she'd hoped, she soon saw in Kana's eyes a light, a glimmer she'd seen herself in mirrors or in still pools of water.
"Kino... that's beautiful."
"Yeah, it is, despite itself."
The pair watched the stars while Kino warmly stroked Kana's wing.
Kana, Hikari and Rakka shared a parting meal with Kino. They talked together late into the night. The haibanes' tidy little den rang with happy voices and laughter until the teapot was emptied and the candles guttered and the moon was sinking fast. It was still all over too soon. Kino said her good-byes then, because she knew in the morning she couldn't with any dignity at all.
Kino hugged her friends and said her farewells and she did not, stubbornly did not cry.
If they never flew free again, I'd feel sorry for them.
Don't give me that wistful look.
The next morning Kana walked into the common room and listened to Hikari puttering in the kitchen and the sizzling sounds of cooking.
Hikari peeked out, and saw it on Kana's face. "She's gone?"
Kana nodded. "I checked the room. She must have left before sunrise, just like she said."
Kana walked out onto the terrace. After two whole minutes of Kana not talking - rare event! - Hikari took a moment to follow.
"Left like a Haibane. Are you glad she visited us?"
"Of course."
"Your scooter sure sounds better," Hikari said lamely, but it was the best she could manage.
Kana turned to smile at her, to let her know it was alright. Hikari saw a light in Kana's eyes that she didn't recognize. But this wouldn't be the time to ask. She hurried back to the kitchen before the toast burned.
Soon Kana reversed her name plate at the door and headed to work. Just as she was walking her scooter over the bridge, a shadow passed over her. Kana looked up to see a crow gliding overhead, cawing. Her eyes followed it until she found herself looking west past Old Home, toward the forest.
She squared her shoulders, her eyes narrowed, and no one was present to notice the first faint flickering of Kana's halo.
...whenever people see birds flying through the sky...
"Well done, little traveler." The Speaker looked with satisfaction at the tiny tablet in his palm. As recently as a week ago it had read, "sorrowful," but the inscribed characters now read "wonder."
The gardeners had planted some sort of flowering creeper Wulf didn't recognize. The masked communicator stood next to the white brick planter as if contemplating the vine's scarlet blossoms. Behind his mask he murmured, "until we meet again."
"There you are," the gatekeeper said and exited the gatehouse. Wulf approached and reported, "our guest passed safely through the walls half an hour ago."
The only answer Wulf received was the tinkling of bells when the Communicator nodded.
"When she looked back. I think she wanted to ask to stay longer."
Silence.
"I suppose her pride wouldn't allow it. And you know you don't fool me, old friend." The gatekeeper looked over to see if his words had provoked a reaction.
Inscrutable behind his mask and hood, the Washi remained still as a statue.
"Weasel!" Wulf smiled slyly. "An incorrigible vagabond loose in a haibane nest? I know what you're up to."
Inscrutable behind his mask and hood, the Washi remained still as a statue.
"You're going to be insufferably pleased with yourself for a week, aren't you?"
Inscrutable behind his mask and hood, the Washi remained still as a statue, and Wulf laughed at him.
Kino released the throttle and let Hermes slow to an idle.
"What are you doing? Kino, they said not to leave the path."
"I know."
Kino looked around. A winding path in front and behind, bordered by dead leaves and what looked like petrified wood. The dense fog hid all else. Kino reached down and plucked up a pebble. Then she tossed it out into the fog, listening for the sound of it striking the ground.
Silence. Nothing.
Kino fought off a dreadful moment of vertigo. Then she gently twisted the throttle and drove with exaggerated caution down the winding path.
After an hour and several ear pops, Kino and Hermes emerged from the fog into bright sunlight. Kino stopped the motor and let out a long sigh of relief. Her resolve had pushed her out of her warm bed in Old Home, out into the dim morning fog, to savor one final longing look at the vast ramshackle once-priory as she pushed sleepy Hermes across the little bridge. She had rushed through the city gate for fear she would weaken and never leave the town at all. At last she turned to look back, and saw only clouds hugging a verdant valley.
"Hmm," Kino said quietly.
"Gone. Do you think," Hermes asked, "we found one of those places travelers talk about, like Germelshausen or Shambhala?"
Kino cocked an eyebrow. So Hermes had paid attention to those old legends told around bars and campfires. "Yes, something like that."
"That means we couldn't find it even if we turned back?"
"We can't go back, Hermes." She patted the bike's tank. "We have a lot of places still to see."
Kino looked herself over. She felt washed clean, perfect except for the puffy feeling around her eyes. All that had troubled her seemed a dim memory. Even Hermes sparkled in the vivid sun. Abruptly, she checked her pockets and found to her great joy an ashen feather, safe and real - wonderfully, miraculously real! She could add it to her very small collection of valueless, priceless mementos.
"But Kino, what's the point of traveling if you're just going to forget it all one day?"
Kino kick-started the engine, and Hermes squawked a protest when she shifted gears and tore down the mountain road with a whoop and a laugh.
Why do you continue the journey
...even when you find something like this?
.
