"That was reckless and dangerous," Aya chided Minerva. "And you did not even manage to obtain any useful information, at that. You were lucky you only lost your lunch."
Minerva waggled a hand in a gesture of dismissal. "I was never in any real peril. And I have obtained a measure of some... confirmation, if nothing else."
"Confirmation that youkai do exist?"
"Among other things."
Aya was much too refined to sniff derisively, despite managing to convey the impression of having done so anyway. "I could have told you as much. In fact, I did tell you as much."
"It was an experiment," Minerva repeated, with unusual patience.
The Experiment, once Minerva had trundled the whole apparatus back to the Hieda mansion, had been poured into a steel container, filled with water, and then capped and sealed as securely as Minerva could manage. She had then given orders for the container to be buried at the edge of the forest behind the Hieda mansion, and left alone. A makeshift sign had been erected to mark the location. The Hieda household staff had dutifully carried out these instructions, but avoided the area thereafter. Minerva's reputation for being the eccentric Western witch was growing, evidently.
"In any case," Minerva continued, "I admit surprise by your decision to have your servants leave us be. I would have expected them to accompany us everywhere we went."
Aya looked momentarily bemused. "Margatroid-san, I am not so much of an invalid that I cannot pay my respects to the local shrine by myself. After all, I ventured to Yokohama alone to fetch you, did I not?"
"And what would have happened if you collapsed as you did last week?"
"I was in no danger, Margatroid-san. The people of Gensokyo know me, or at least know of me, and a message to the mansion would be dispatched soon enough. Besides, I only require a brief moment to catch my breath."
Minerva had not had an opportunity to personally examine Aya's health, and so she let that lie hang in the air between them for a moment longer.
Aya indicated at the vermilion-painted structure in front of them, which Minerva could not help comparing to some oversized croquet hoop. "Torii," she said. "A shrine gate, signifying the division between Earth and Heaven. As we pass through these gates, we are to reflect on our journey from the temporal, profane world into the sacred, holy realm of the gods."
"A Wicket Gate," Minerva muttered under her breath in English. "But who will open it for us?"
"What was that?"
"Never mind, Aya-san." Minerva glanced at their surroundings. They were, by necessity, taking their time in ascending the moderately intimidating flight of stone steps, which had been built into the side of what seemed like a small mountain. It was not the sort of trek that she would have wanted to make on a whim, even if it was probably trivial for younger folk with an excess of energy. Aya was breathing easily, which meant whatever health issues she suffered from was not flaring up under this physical exertion; she had obviously come here before, and learned to pace herself. For her part, Minerva felt more discomfort from the late summer heat and the awkward arrangement of spelunking tools she carried than the steep stairs and lengthy journey. The second-hand safety mining lamp kept slapping uncomfortably against her thigh.
Were all Shinto shrines built in such inconvenient locations? Or just this one? The path towards the shrine seemed well-kept, but deserted. Along the way, Minerva and Aya had not encountered anyone else returning to the village from the direction of the shrine. Did the people here have an equivalent of a Church Sunday?
For that matter, when was the last time Minerva had stepped inside a church? Not too long ago, certainly, and there had been none of the dramatics that might have been expected from a witch, a heretic, entering a holy place. To Minerva, churches were merely buildings like any other, nothing more. They served a social function, largely involving getting a certain number of people into a useful configuration to be fed homilies and sermons, some of which may even have been useful.
Which meant that the uneasy feeling in Minerva's gut was not, in itself, a product of this place being religiously significant. There was something else at work here.
"I am simplifying greatly, you understand," Aya continued. "You may think of it as a threshold, which you must cross in order to proceed from the outside to the inside. A boundary between two different spaces. I believe your magic has some sort of limitation in that regard?"
"Some varieties do," Minerva said absently. "There are stories of certain brands of thaumaturgy, or even of entirely magical beings, that cannot pass through the threshold without obtaining prior permission. The one that most people know about, thanks to those rail penny-dreadfuls... what is the word in Japanese? Dead beings who subsist on the blood of others?"
Aya told her. "Vampires," she said in English, before switching back to Japanese. "I know what you speak of. The stories we have are not an exact match, but they are similar enough for the cultural associations to be relevant."
"The exact terminology isn't relevant, anyhow. The principle behind a threshold is to denominate a barrier between one area and another. Between yours and mine. As such, the... flow? The flow is quite often different from one area to another, and the more one relies on the energy, the more one is affected." As Minerva was experiencing right at that moment, in fact. She had uprooted herself from her home and country, and travelled halfway across the known world to this distant land in the east. Little wonder that she had felt out of sorts ever since she set foot in Japan, where the myths and magic were alien and unfamiliar. Even the area around the shrine felt awkward, different.
And why was that? Was this shrine built here for social convenience, allowing worshippers to gather when desired? Or was its location chosen long before that? Was there something here that necessitated the presence of a shrine? There were several possible candidates, of varying plausibility.
Don't get ahead of yourself, Minerva. It was a classic mistake to speculate before proof, since one invariably started twisting the evidence to fit the hypothesis.
They had almost reached the top of the stone steps by now, an exercise that had taken them most of the morning, despite having set out at the break of dawn. Minerva was not sure what she had expected at their destination; a grand cathedral of worship was obviously not a possibility, considering the remote locale, but when they crested the lip of the stairs, Minerva had to quash a faint tinge of disappointment at the mundane appearance of the shrine, quite out of place from the effort required to reach it in the first place.
It was not a large shrine, although clearly it was of some importance, being set on a plateau partway up the side of a mountain. Someone saw fit to construct a shrine here, far from the rest of human habitation, along with the stone steps and the gateways on the path leading to it. Someone thought this place significant enough to have the shrine's maintainers take up residence here, regardless of the inconvenience to both congregation and clergy.
One such resident was placidly sweeping the path in front of the main building, using a broom made of bamboo and straw in the typical country style. The young woman was dressed in what Minerva vaguely recalled was the standard clothing of a low-level Shinto shrine maiden, based on her hurried research into the obscure world of Japanese religious traditions, as yet poorly-documented by Anglophone writers. White and red, with the red ribbon adorning up her long black hair providing what might have been a hint of individuality, or perhaps just a uniform-approved accessory.
The shrine maiden briefly turned her attention to her visitors, in the manner of a frequent daydreamer noting the ever-shifting shapes of the clouds in the sky: what lay before her eyes may have changed, but the change was worthy of no more than a moment's consideration, before the mind returned to weightier matters. It may well have been the first time since coming to Japan that Minerva felt no more unusual than her surroundings, a shift in status she wasn't sure she appreciated. The shrine maiden let her gaze rest on them for a moment, before returning to her duties in sweeping the grounds.
Aya glided forward, apparently unaffected by the heat of the afternoon. She continued past the shrine maiden without acknowledging her presence, an act that the shrine maiden returned with an equal lack of interest.
Aya's immediate destination was a small pavilion off to the side, which Minerva noticed was effectively a basin filled with water, sheltered by a roof to keep out the less subtle elements. Using an accompanying long-handled wooden dipper, Aya washed her hands, mouth, and the ladle's handle itself, with the stilted movements characteristic of a traditional ritual. Ablutions completed, she proceeded to the entrance of the main shrine building, where she stopped in front of what Minerva assumed to be a sort of altar. The entrance of the shrine was bracketed by a final torii gate, built into the architecture itself, under which a large wooden box took pride of place.
Aya turned to regard Minerva, her expression wordlessly instructing the Englishwoman to follow suit. A thousand protests leapt to Minerva's lips, all of which she bit back. Aya clearly did not care about the theological aspects of a witch from a Christian country coming to worship at a Shinto shrine. This was, yet again, another intricate social dance around the delicate, inflexible web of etiquette in Gensokyo.
She hurried past the shrine maiden, who continued to pretend obliviousness to their presence. Minerva tried to replicate the ritual of cleansing that Aya had performed: left hand, right hand, mouth, ladle. As a magician, Minerva had a good memory for details, and she was fairly certain that she had done everything correctly. The lack of any sort of magical surge confirmed her expectations that there were no inadvertent mystical traps lying in wait, apart from the general sense of uneasiness permeating the shrine environs.
Minerva stepped up beside Aya, and mimicked her pose, placing her hands together. After a minute or so, Aya frowned, as she finally realized that Minerva was not about to bow her head. Evidently deciding to let the matter pass, Aya clapped her hands three times, and did something complicated with her sleeves that resulted in several coins clattering through the slats on the wooden box. Minerva suppressed a smile as she remembered the collection plate at the end of services; every religion with any degree of organization required funds, no matter where in the world they were.
"Thank you," said the shrine maiden, standing close behind them.
Minerva spun around, managing to bring her startled reaction under control with some effort. She could not remember the last time someone had been able to sneak up so close to her without warning. Was she simply out of sorts from her inability to acclimatize herself to Gensokyo's magical flows? Was the shrine maiden adept at masking her presence, whether from natural talent or training?
"Hakurei," Aya greeted her. Minerva noted the lack of honorific.
"Hieda," the shrine maiden said affably. Now that Aya and Minerva had done the Correct Thing in acting out the role of worshippers at the shrine, they had been deemed worthy of attention, appearing back into the shrine maiden's field of vision. Having proven their existence to the shrine maiden, she granted them her full attention, playing the part of host to unexpected but welcome guests. "It is a pleasure to meet you again. I received your messages."
"Likewise," Aya said. Not truly sincere in that sentiment, but without the undercurrent of sarcasm and scorn that Minerva was used to. "Forgive the late introductions. This is-"
"Minerva Margatroid-san, yes," the shrine maiden said, turning to Minerva with a smile. "The greatest magician in the world."
Minerva took less than a second to sort out her thoughts. "You flatter me, Hakurei-san. I'm afraid the reality may disappoint, however; I am but a humble scholar." First, Aya was attempting to recover from her surprise: whatever she had told this Hakurei shrine maiden, that particular epithet had not been part of it, nor any reputation that might imply the title.
Second, the last time Minerva had been described as anything like that had been by Violet Hearn.
"I think the reality may be safe enough," Hakurei said cryptically. She brightened up. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, leaning her broom against a convenient pillar. "You must be tired from your journey here. I'm afraid I don't have much to offer, though."
Minerva cleared her throat. "I must admit that I was hoping to be able to survey the, er, caves that I was informed were in the area..."
Hakurei looked blankly at her. "Caves... oh, yes, the caves. They are not far from here, but they may be a little strenuous for..." She looked at Aya.
Aya shrugged genteelly, moving further into the shade of the main building. "I will remain here with Hakurei, Margatroid-san. I doubt you will want me underfoot while you search the caves for... whatever you are searching for." The twist in her tone made it clear that she knew exactly what Minerva meant to seek out, and while she did not quite approve, she did accept the necessity.
"There will be a fair amount of what may resemble dirt," Minerva said dryly. "Fortunately, I only need a small sample." The advantages of alchemical transmutation, coupled with the inconveniences of field work. City-born and city-bred, Minerva was still experienced enough with working her experiments in the rural countryside, but she could never be said to enjoy doing so.
"The caves are further up the mountain," Hakurei said. "I've not explored them myself, but I hear that they are quite extensive."
"Natural?"
"I've no idea."
Minerva sighed. "I'd best be about it, then. Hakurei-san, would you be so kind as to direct me to the caves?"
Hakurei's smile grew marginally sunnier. "I may be able to assist you further. I managed to find a map of the caves in the warehouse." She indicated another building, off to the side of the main shrine. "It even has directions to the known entrances. The closest one has a trail leading towards it, since it seems to be a popular destination for explorers."
From behind Hakurei, Aya mouthed the words "youkai hunters" at Minerva.
Minerva nodded thoughtfully. "Aya-san, would you mind waiting here until Hakurei-san returns? With the map, I should be able to find my way back here on my own. Although I would appreciate it if someone were to come look for me should I fail to return by sunset."
"Of course, Margatroid-san," Aya said. "It has been a while since I talked to Hakurei, in any case."
"Please wait one moment," Hakurei said. "I'll go fetch the map. Now, where did I put it..."
Minerva was thankful that she had brought along her notebook on this expedition.
The entrance to the caves had indeed been quite close to the shrine, less than an hour's travel away, even considering the rough trail that had been stamped out of the mountain wilderness by countless but infrequent adventurers. The map that Hakurei had given her was surprisingly clear and accurate, considering it had been drawn up by some amateur explorer long past. The notations were in some archaic script that Hakurei had helpfully explained; Minerva dutifully pencilled in the English translations on the map.
Some of the ancient scribbles had defeated even the shrine maiden, however. These tended to be concentrated along a certain path through the cave system, and Hakurei had warned Minerva that they may have indicated some sort of danger.
Which was why, as soon as Hakurei started off back to her shrine, Minerva had waited a few more minutes to be sure, before embarking on that very path.
Her initial collection was completed quickly enough; bats were very much present here, although not as many as Minerva had hoped. Their sparse numbers would have been odd in any other similar habitat, but as Minerva raised her lamp, surveying the surrounding cave walls, it was clear that this cave system was at least partly artificial.
Had this been a mining concern, sometime in the history of Gensokyo? The village was probably large enough to support a small industry of such, although Minerva had her doubts about the area's natural resources. The cave tunnels were wide enough for her to walk through without any difficulty, and left more than enough room for her to scrawl a few important runes in chalk onto several handy flat surfaces.
There was yet another odd feeling in here, pressing against Minerva's magic-honed senses. There was the impression of a vast slumbering beast just beyond the rocky walls, its slow heartbeats just beyond the edge of sensation. And yet, when Minerva tried to focus on that impression, it vanished into a mere flight of imagination, leaving her alone in the hot and stuffy tunnel.
Minerva continued onwards, wiping the sweat from her brow. There was something around here that she could almost identify, something that played just beyond her memories. And even as Minerva tried to pin it down, she was distracted by the incessant feeling that there was something else not quite right, something that was counter to expectations, something that yielded a clue in its nature out of place.
When she encountered the dead end, she also found her answers.
The map indicated that the caves went on for quite a while yet, even though the unknown cartographer had not been able to fully explore the depths of the system. However, a wall of rock barred Minerva's progress, evidence of some more recent cave-in.
Not, in itself, an unusual phenomenon, especially in unsupported cave tunnels like this, a fact which reminded Minerva that she should probably not stretch her luck any further by remaining in unsupported cave tunnels like this. What had caught Minerva's interest were the scraps of paper, now mostly in unreadable tatters, pasted across the rock wall almost haphazardly. When Minerva ran a hand over them, she could feel the traces of power remaining after countless years; she guessed more than a couple of centuries, but could not estimate a more exact date. The cave-in had been as artificial as the rest of the caves.
As Minerva searched along the wall, she found the other thing she had been looking for. With the lack of air circulation in the cave tunnels, a faint breeze from beyond the cave-in was easy enough to notice, especially when it had a distinctly noxious smell.
She brought her safety mining lamp close to the source of the breeze, and watched the flame colour change. This also resulted in a thoroughly unexpected discovery, which meant that by the time Minerva staggered back out of the caves in a daze, Aya and the shrine maiden were waiting irritably outside.
"I take it you found something interesting," Aya said. "Or you would have returned much earlier."
"I don't think it's a good idea to head back to the village in this state," Hakurei said dubiously. "I'll prepare a bath and bedding for you, and you can have a good rest tonight."
"An excellent idea," Minerva agreed, taking the opportunity to suck in several deep lungfuls of fresh air before nodding apologetically at Aya. "I did find something quite interesting, yes. I'm... not entirely sure what it means, however. I will need more study."
Aya pursed her lips, but did not press the issue further that day.
The bath and dinner passed in a dull haze, although Minerva did not recall anything about these events that warranted mention. She did remember noting the oddity of Hakurei living alone in the shrine, but pushed that fact aside for now. She contributed a few minor comments at dinner without much engagement from most of her mind, which was probably why Aya and Hakurei kept the conversation to small talk anyway.
Even after Minerva had settled into the bedding laid out on the floor of what she assumed was the guest room, she lay awake, staring blankly up at the ceiling, her vision filled with the patterns and lines that had sprung into focus when the light from the mining lamp had been fed with the gas from beyond the rock fall. It would indeed take much more study before she could discern the nature of the designs: were they meant to seal, protect, or trap? From which direction had the spellcasters expected the threat to come from?
Who had created those spells?
Minerva tilted her head. Aya had fallen asleep almost immediately, with the same iron-willed determination that she did everything else. Piled up somewhere in the far corner were their belongings, which included one tiny vial, sealed tight, containing a sample of whatever atmosphere had leaked past the cave-in.
There had been more than enough time since Minerva's return from the caves for her to have identified at least some of the individual scents that made up the mysterious breeze. There wasn't much she could do about it without further research, however.
Especially when her dreams that night, when she finally fell asleep, kept returning to the obvious conclusion for the unsettling presence of magic-infused brimstone.