Chapter One-Hundred Thirty-Seven

As soon as their host left them alone to settle in, they congregated in the guestroom. "I think I've figured out what's wrong with this place," Syaoran said.

"Like the fact that an evil sorcerer is hiding somewhere in the city, waiting for a chance to kill us?" Kurogane asked, crossing his arms. He hadn't bothered to remove his armor in the living room, and he didn't take it off now, despite their tame surroundings.

"Apart from that," Syaoran said, pacing between a pair of single beds. "It's the people. They're all the same."

Kurogane frowned, but Fai's eyes lit up, as if Syaoran had just solved a problem he'd been puzzling over for hours. "They do seem very homogenous, both in appearance and personality."

"Right." Syaoran nodded. "But this is the capital of Clow. It's normal to have an abundance of people native to this region, but we should have seen people from foreign countries as well, people with different attitudes and appearances. Instead, everyone we've encountered looked like they'd lived here their whole lives. They belonged. Which wouldn't be so strange, except that a festival should increase the flow of foreigners, and the people here shouldn't have reacted so strongly to our presence. We should have been . . . not unnoticed, exactly, but overlooked."

"Makes sense," Kurogane said. "But it could be explained if the country had decided to close its borders. Might be easier for the enemy to keep tabs on who comes in and goes out that way."

Syaoran shook his head. "If that were the case, we'd have been questioned at the gates. Besides, there's something else that doesn't fit. Did you notice that everyone seemed very friendly? Perhaps . . . unnaturally so?"

"More like pushy," the ninja muttered.

Fai raised an eyebrow, a faint smile touching his lips. "You have an idea about what's going on, don't you, Syaoran-kun?"

"Maybe. I think that maybe this world is more than just a place removed from time." Whatever that means. "It might not be a real place at all. Or, rather, it's an artificial place constructed by Fei-Wang Reed."

The others leaned forward, for once wearing matching expressions of intensity. After a moment, Fai said, "That would suggest, then, that the people here are artificial as well."

Artificial people. The thought put a lump in his throat. He knew their enemy could create an artificial being—he'd done it using Syaoran himself as a blueprint. Still, the complexity of the human mind required such precision to mimic that it might explain the overly cheerful demeanor of the people in this world. It would be easier to design a person who had only one narrow set of emotions and reactions than a person who could question, think, and live as if they'd been born instead of created.

A gloved hand rested on his shoulder; he glanced up at Kurogane. "Is it possible?" the ninja asked quietly.

"More than possible," Syaoran said. "Depending on how much time our enemy has had to build this world—if in fact that's what's going on—then it seems quite likely. It's just . . ."

"Just what?" Fai asked.

"He would need a blueprint for every person he created. Which means that in order to create an entire city, he'd have had to capture, clone, and likely kill thousands of people. That, or kidnap them, wipe their memories, and plant them here. Either way . . ." Either way, I'd rather not think about it, he thought.

"As if we needed another reason to kill him," Kurogane muttered. "If his goal was to piss us off, he's already accomplished that."

A voice came from the kitchen, interrupting their discussion. "Dinner's ready!"

"I don't trust this world," Kurogane said, nudging aside the bedroom curtain and peering into the kitchen. The woman whose house they were staying in was setting the table with the help of her son. "But until we figure out where our enemy is hiding, we should play along."

"Agreed," Fai said. "Better to let him think we're still trying to gather our wits."

They headed out into the kitchen, where the woman had laid out several bowls of rice, some vegetables, and assorted utensils. Six bowls, Syaoran thought. Three for us, two for them, and one for . . . Mokona? His eyebrows pulled together. In most worlds, Mokona had to sneak food from the table. The fact that an extra bowl had been laid out . . . It's too perfect. Mokona's been hiding ever since we entered the city. No one should have noticed her. "Will there be anyone else joining us?" Syaoran asked, looking pointedly at the extra bowl.

"Oh, no. That's for your little pet."

And this world just got a little stranger, Syaoran thought as Mokona poked her head out of his hood. After a moment, Mokona hopped across the table and sat in front of her plate, ears flattening. Syaoran glanced around the table, realizing that only the woman and her son were eating. How easy would it be for them to poison us? he wondered. It would certainly be a neat, easy way for their enemy to kill them. In this world, where Fei-Wang Reed controlled everything, having someone slip arsenic into their rice might be easy.

"You aren't eating," the boy said, eyebrows pinching together. It was the first expression Syaoran had seen that didn't radiate friendliness and good cheer.

"Oh. I, um . . ." He wracked his brain for a reply.

"They don't have rice where he comes from," Kurogane said simply. "Plus, he's a little picky."

Syaoran threw the ninja a grateful look, then looked at their hostess. "Right. I'm just not used to the local cuisine yet."

"Ah, well, I can prepare something else if this isn't to your liking."

"No, that's fine," he said quickly. "We actually had a late lunch, so we're all right."

In a more normal world, Syaoran might have expected the woman to be annoyed or even offended by his refusal. But this woman just smiled as if he hadn't spoken and resumed eating. Glancing at the others, Syaoran slid his chopsticks into the bowl of rice, grabbed a wad of it, and lifted it to his mouth as if to take a bite. Then he spoke, lowering the chopsticks. "So, have you noticed any odd occurrences lately?"

It was one of the questions they asked when they ran out of leads to follow, and it usually netted them at least some sort of useful information. But the woman shrugged. "Not really, no. Everyone's been getting ready for the festival, and things are going well. It's going to be a lot of fun."

We'll have to attend this festival and see if we find something there, Syaoran decided, though he didn't relish the thought of returning to the ruins, even for a supposedly happy occasion. "Nothing else strange has happened?"

"No, not at all. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." He waited, half-expecting her to press for more answers, but the table lapsed into a mockery of a peaceful silence, and they all pretended to eat, stirring the food around on their plates to make it look like they'd at least tried it. Neither the woman nor her son made any further comment about their attempts not to eat, and when dinner concluded, Mokona commented that it had been delicious, though Syaoran didn't think she'd eaten anything, either.

"Yes, your mother is an excellent cook," Fai said to the boy. Syaoran knew him well enough to recognize the falseness of his smile, but for once, he was grateful that Fai had cultivated that deceptive persona. It would make their stay here much easier.

"Yep." The boy grinned. "She also makes the best par-yu."

"Par-yu?" Mokona repeated.

"These here." The boy held up a basket packed with pastries. "They've got the apples we sell at the market in them." Still grinning, the boy grabbed an apple from the basket on the table and handed it to Syaoran. He found himself inspecting it for holes or other markings that might indicate whether it had been injected with poison.

"Be sure to try a par-yu tomorrow morning," the boy's mother said, heading toward what Syaoran assumed to be her bedroom. "Now, you all must be very tired from traveling. You should take some time to rest."

"Thank you," Syaoran said, already working out sleeping shifts in his mind. He wanted someone awake at all times while they were here, to make sure Fei-Wang didn't send anyone to slaughter them while they slept. He followed the others into the guest room, sliding the curtain shut before addressing them. "We should set up sleeping shifts."

Neither of his companions disagreed, and after a moment, Fai raised a hand. "I'll take the second shift."

Kurogane glanced at each of them. "I'll take the third."

"I'll take the first," Syaoran said, relieved to have that much settled.

Fai let out a fake whistle. "That sure was strange, wasn't it, Syaoran-kun?"

"Yes, it was. Strange that she hasn't noticed anything unusual." His voice sounded faint to his own ears, and he took a breath to steady himself. "Even if it were something small and unrelated to our purposes here, I'd feel better if she had at least brought up something out of the ordinary. But everything here seems eerily . . . normal."

"She could be lying," Kurogane grunted. "Maybe she's in on it. Hell, maybe they're all in on it."

Which means that we won't be able to get any information from them, Syaoran thought, wrinkling his nose. "I think we should go to the ruins tomorrow." The words sounded heavy, and he realized he'd been putting off this decision all evening. He had reasons for wanting to avoid the ruins. Personal reasons. But there's no avoiding it now, is there? "That's where it all started," he went on, the words coming easier. "And since the festival everyone's talking about will be taking place there, we should investigate before the ruins become too crowded."

The others looked at him somberly, as if they sensed the reason for his reluctance. Guilt swelled in his chest. I still haven't told them anything about the ruins, or what happened there. It seemed wrong, that he knew the darkest corners of his companions' past, yet they knew almost nothing of his except for the vague details he'd given about his time as Fei-Wang's prisoner. I'll have to tell them, he decided. But not tonight.

"I realize we all just woke up a few hours ago," Fai eventually said. "But we should at least try to sleep while we're here. We need to be well-rested for the battle ahead."

"Yes." Syaoran latched onto the distraction. "That's a good idea. Mokona, could you retrieve our sleeping gear? And some of the food rations we stored from Infinity." He glanced up at the others. "I don't think we should eat any of the food here, if we can help it. Fei-Wang Reed might send someone to poison us if he thinks we're getting too close to him."

"Agreed," Kurogane said as Mokona summoned several blankets and a few cans of food. A moment later, she summoned a can opener and a small stove they'd picked up in an outdoor supply store in the Hanshin Republic. Fai took over food preparation, humming quietly as he did so, and Syaoran retreated to the edge of the room, laying some thin blankets on one of the cots. Kurogane sat down on the edge of the mattress, removing only the most obtrusive pieces of armor—his helmet and chest plate—and leaving on the rest.

Syaoran ran his fingertips down the ninja's neck, then pressed his forehead against Kurogane's chest. In response, Kurogane stroked his hand through Syaoran's hair. "You all right?"

"As all right as I can be. You?"

"Fine."

"You haven't taken off the rest of your armor."

"Don't want to get caught without it. The chest plate and helmet are easy to put on, even if you're in a hurry."

Syaoran nodded, almost wishing he had armor of his own, if only to hide his anxiety from his companions.

"You don't want to go to the ruins tomorrow, do you?" Kurogane asked, keeping his voice low. Syaoran wasn't sure why he bothered—Fai's hearing was sharp enough for him to hear even the quietest of whispers. Maybe he doesn't want anyone from this world to overhear, Syaoran thought, fidgeting at the idea of someone listening outside the doorway.

"No, I don't," he admitted. "But I don't see many other alternatives."

"There's something off about those ruins. More off than the rest of the city."

Syaoran nodded, although that explained only a small piece of his reluctance. "We have to go. We have no choice."

"There's always a choice. But yeah, we probably won't get anything done if we don't go." Kurogane pulled back enough for their eyes to meet. "You'll be able to handle it."

The confidence in that statement had him nodding, though he couldn't chase away his own uncertainty. Tomorrow, we will examine the ruins, he told himself. We will walk into the heart of the danger. We will face our greatest enemy.

Tomorrow, we will either stop Fei-Wang or die in the attempt.