Ico stopped.
There was something in the cage. But it wasn’t black; it was white. And not just any white, but a gentle, glowing white, like a firefly flitting along the water’s edge at dusk.
It wasn ’t a shadow, but a person.
“Is somebody there?” Ico approached the handrail and called out toward the cage. “Who are you?”
Behind the bars, the white silhouette moved.
“What are you doing in there?” Ico asked, then hastily added, “Hold on. I’ll get you down.”
Ico resumed climbing the staircase, feeling his heart dancing in his chest. There was a prisoner in the Castle in the Mist! Is that person a Sacrifice like me? Why are they in a cage instead of a sarcophagus? I have to get them out!
As he ran, his mind whirling, he suddenly came to a place where the staircase had collapsed, leaving a large gap. On the far side, the stairs continued up. But even with a running start, he didn’t think he could jump across.
Ico looked at the window in the wall to his right. It was higher than the staircase, yet if he jumped, he might be able to grab on to the edge. He couldn’t be sure where it led, but he was running out of choices. Heaving himself up, he grasped the edge of the window and stuck his head outside. Ico gaped when he saw that it opened above a wide veranda. He could hear the distant roar of the sea and the faint cries of seabirds.
Out on the veranda, Ico squinted against the bright light. Clean, crisp air filled his lungs. He was up on one of the towers. The sky felt much closer here, as though he could reach up and grab one of the clouds. Nearby rose another of the castle’s towers, with causeways connecting the intricate structures below. Everywhere there were windows, but no life stirred behind them. Cliffs towered in the distance, and far below, the sea crashed against the island. But nowhere could he look that was not shrouded in mist.
I’m really here.
A strong wind blew. Ico circled the veranda and climbed back in through a window a little farther around the circumference of the tower. Even inside, the wind whistled in his ears. But Ico was not afraid—to the contrary, the air encouraged him. Smelling the sea on the wind and seeing the bright sky above meant he was not stuck here, unable to move. The natural world around the castle was alive and thriving. If he could just find the way out, he would be back in that world.
A little farther up the staircase, he came to a true dead end. The railing blocked off two sides, and there was a wooden door on the right. The door was the same shape as the one Ico had gone through when he left the great hall, only slightly larger. Next to the door he saw a lever similar to the one he had found in the hall, only this one was set in the floor. It offered no resistance as he pulled it. He thought that it might open the door, but he was wrong. Instead, behind him, the cage moved.
With a loud squeal, the chain holding the cage began to play out from a winch against the ceiling, and the cage began to descend toward the base of the tower. Ico went up to the railing to look down after the cage. It descended farther and farther, until he was practically looking down at its top. Inside he could see the white figure lying on the floor of the cage.
He was just thinking he was right about the round dais being a platform for the cage to rest on, when the chains let out another squeal, and the cage stopped its downward motion. The sudden halt made the cage rock from side to side. It hadn’t yet reached the platform—it had stopped midway.
Ico tried the lever again, but nothing happened. He thought that the cage might have caught on something along the way, but it was too far down for him to see clearly from where he stood. Ico darted down the stairs, wiping the sweat from his brow as he ran. His throat ached with thirst.
The cage had stopped with its base hanging roughly at the height of the heads of the four idols. Ico reached the bottom of the staircase, where he could look directly inside the cage. The white figure stood at its center. It was a woman.
Her body was slender, with an elegant curve to her neck, and she wore a strange white dress that came down to her knees. She was looking down at her feet, and though she must have noticed Ico by now, she did not look at him. Ico went to call out to her again, but stopped himself. He didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t answered him before. Perhaps she couldn’t hear him at all.
He had a bigger problem, though. How could he lower the cage the rest of the way to the floor?
Ico caught his breath and pondered. He could feel the sweat drying on his skin. If I could only get a closer look at that cage. A narrow ledge ran around the edge of the room, and it looked like it might lead him just above the place where the light was peeking through over the heads of the idols. The ledge widened there, protruding almost like an awning. He would have a clear view of the cage.
Ico scrambled down the ladder and ran to its twin on the other side of the room. He climbed it and began running across the ledge, never taking his eyes from the girl inside the cage. She stood motionless. For a moment he wondered if that glowing white form wasn’t human after all, but some kind of spirit given shape.
He recalled the forest sprites Oneh had told him about in stories. They were kind, gentle creatures who loved all life in the woods, and even protected those people who lived off the bounty of the forest. When they found a lost traveler or wounded hunter, they would appear in the form of a young girl to help them.
Ico paused when he reached the wall above the four idols. The woman inside the cage had her back to him, and she still wasn’t moving. From here there could be no doubt that she would be able to hear him if he spoke. Should I call out to her? Maybe she can force open the cage door. Ico dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred to him. Her arms were even more slender than his. She could scarcely rattle the bars of that sturdy cage, let alone break them.
Now what?
Ico looked more closely at the chain holding the cage and saw to his surprise that though the links were thick, they were covered with rust. Some even seemed damaged. Maybe the cage wasn’t as sturdy as he’d first thought.
Ico knew what he had to do. From the top of the cage, he and the girl might be able to work together, using their combined weight to free her. As long as he avoided the dangerous-looking spikes protruding from the top and bottom edges, it didn’t look that difficult.
Ico jumped and landed easily on the roof of the cage, sending it lurching to one side. He had been half right about the chain—though it was damaged, it was far weaker than he had imagined. His added weight was enough to break one of the links, and the cage dropped to the platform below, landing off balance. The shock of the impact knocked Ico from the roof and sent the broken chain rebounding upward to slap against the wall, knocking down a single torch, which fell with a soft sound beside him. It was still burning. He gave it a quick glance before returning his attention to the cage. Still sprawled on the ground, he watched in wonder as the woman in white stepped through the cage’s door.
The woman crossed over the threshold of the cage gingerly, like someone wading in the shallows of a stream. Ico’s eyes fell on the gentle curve of her leg. She was barefoot, and a white light suffused her skin down to the very tips of her toes.
She looked back around at the cage that had held her, then at the stone walls of the room, and then finally down at Ico. She was definitely a woman, but much younger than he had guessed from a distance. She was more of a girl, really. Still, she stood taller than Ico and looked a bit older.
Her chestnut hair was cropped short, lightly falling across her cheeks. Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and they were fixed on Ico’s face. She must be a spirit, Ico thought. A spirit trapped here. No human girl could be this beautiful.
Her lips moved, and she spoke—but even though the room was quiet, save for the crackling of torches, Ico could not make out her words. Whatever they might have been, he was sure that they were unlike any he had heard before.
She stepped across the floor soundlessly, walking closer, saying something. She’s talking to me. But Ico coul
dn’t understand.
“Are you…” he began, finally summoning the courage to speak, “are you a Sacrifice too?” Had someone trapped her inside this castle and put her inside that cage? Did they imprison spirits here too? Ico couldn’t find the right words for his questions. Instead his mouth moved all by itself, telling her that he was a Sacrifice, that they brought him to the castle because he had horns.
The girl walked up to Ico and knelt gracefully. She extended her hand toward Ico’s cheek.
Those pale white fingers. Eyes like jewels. All aglow with the same ethereal light he and Toto had seen rising from the bottom of the pool in the cave.
Ico’s eyes went wide as he noticed a cloud of inky black smoke looming behind her.
[4]
WHERE THERE'S SMOKE, there’s fire, Ico thought—but the only flames in the room were the flickering torches on the walls. What’s burning?
The thought was banished a moment later when two thick arms emerged from the swirling smoke behind the girl and scooped her up. The dark form turned and began to move away toward the corner of the room, carrying her upon its shoulder. The girl gave a quick scream, but the smoke did not seem to notice.
It’s walking, Ico realized, dumbfounded. Its shape was almost human, but it had no more substance than ink-black smoke, a dark mist. It even had a head, swollen and misshapen—topped with horns, just like Ico’s.
That’s no smoke—it’s a creature, a monster.
The realization hit Ico like a slap in the face, catapulting him to his feet and after the creature.
It moved without sound, gliding quickly across the room like a cloud of mist. Even with its back turned, Ico could still see the glow of the creature’s eyes. They were as large as Ico’s fists, without pupils or eyelids, gleaming like shooting stars just before they wink out after cutting across the night sky.
The girl hung limp over its shoulder.
Ico noticed something he had not seen before on the stones in the corner of the room—a black disk, as dark as the shadow creature. For a moment, he mistook it for a pool of water, but then it began to move. He realized it, too, was made of the black, shadowy mist. The disk seethed and began to bubble as though it were boiling.
The creature approached the ring and knelt before it. It stuck one of its legs in and began to sink into the swirling pool. With the girl still on its shoulders, its entire body began to dissolve into the floor.
Within the space of a few breaths, the creature had sunk down to its waist, everything else disappearing beneath the ring of inky blackness. The girl reached out with both hands, trying to grab on to the edge of the pool. It was dragging her down, taking her under. The girl shook her head, shaking loose her fine chestnut hair, and clutched at the ground with all of the strength in her two slender arms. But the force of the pool was greater—she’d never be able to escape on her own.
Ico ran so fast he nearly fell forward, reaching out for the girl. In his shock and fear, he had no voice. He grabbed for the girl’s wrist and pulled with all his might. The pool of darkness pulled back, until Ico feared he might wrench the girl’s arm from its socket. His own shoulder made a cracking noise with the effort, and his sandals slipped on the stone floor. Ico tumbled to the ground.
The fall brought his other hand close enough for the girl to reach, and soon he had both hands on her wrists. Getting his feet back under him, Ico pulled with his legs to drag her from the swirling darkness.
At last, the tips of her bare feet left the edge of the darkness and she collapsed on the floor. Ico loosened the grip on her wrists, then fell to his knees on the stones, panting for breath.
The girl was breathing raggedly, as though she had been drowning. Behind her, the black pool was beginning to churn.
“What was that creature?” he asked, his mind racing. He had to get her away from the pool. They needed to run from this place. “Why are they after you?”
The girl lay on the floor, gasping for breath. Ico felt his own heart rise in his throat, choking him. He put a hand on his chest, touching the Mark. I need to stay calm. He took a deep breath, but before he could even exhale, the girl disappeared behind a swirling veil of darkness.
Ico gaped. It was another of the dark creatures dragging her off, this time toward the far corner of the room where he spotted another pool whirling. Waiting.
This time, Ico’s anger rose quicker than his fear, and he ran at the creature swinging his fists wildly at its back—but all he touched was air. No matter how hard he swung, it was like trying to punch a cloud.
Staggering and occasionally falling to her knees, the girl was being dragged away. No matter how much Ico punched and kicked or threw himself at the creature, it didn’t seem to feel a thing. The outline of the smoke would shift slightly wherever his limbs connected with it, but no more.
How can I get this thing?
Ico whirled around so fast it made his neck hurt. The girl was farther away now, closer to the dark pool. Worse, there was more than just the one black creature in the room. They were everywhere—pairs of eyes, glowing with a dull white light. Some lingered near Ico, others followed after the girl, joining the one that held her. When he tried to run after her, two of them came and blocked his path.
I can’t hit them, I can’t kick them—I need a weapon.
The crackling sound of the burning torches reached his ears, and he had the answer. Fire. What better to drive back the darkness?
The torch still lay next to the fallen cage, sputtering. Ico made a beeline for the torch, picking it up in both hands and turning to charge at the creatures.
With Ico’s first swing, the tiny flame at the tip of the torch went out—his torch had become a club.
But his next swing cut across the waist of one of the creatures, and its outline lost its form, coiling through the air as loose smoke. The thick blackness vanished before him, leaving only two eerie eyes floating in space, surrounded by a small wisp of smoke.
Courage swelled in Ico’s chest. He swung the club back and forth, making for the girl. Already she was being dragged into the swirling pool at the far side of the room, the black arms of one of the creatures coiled around her waist.
Swoosh, swoosh! Ico could feel the wind as he swung his club, breaking apart the smoky mist. Finally, he reached the girl. He swung his club at the neck of the creature holding her, and the smoke swirled. The creature’s eyes moved, the right drifting from the left, and the line of its shoulders dissipated.
“Grab on!”
Ico thrust out his left hand, shouting to the girl. She had already sunk to her knees.
For the space of a breath, barely long enough to blink, she hesitated. Her eyes focused on Ico’s, questioning, trying to peer into the bottom of his soul. Where her gaze fell on him, he felt cool, as though clear water washed over him. Ico gasped with the sensation.
She thrust out her arm and grabbed his hand.
Their fingers met, then their palms, and it felt like a current passed between their hands, pure and warm. It reminded Ico of the southerly wind prized by the hunters of Toksa Village that blew down from the mountains, guaranteeing a good hunt. It was a gentle wind, full of fond memories and happiness. Full of safety. It enveloped him in an instant, and the room shifted around him.
Ico was sitting on the same stone floor, looking up at the same stone walls, the same high ceiling. Torches flickered in sconces.
The thorny iron cage sat resting on the round dais. It wasn’t broken, it wasn’t leaning. It stood empty, and the door was shut.
Beside the cage stood an old man. He was leaning on a staff and wore heavy-looking robes woven of silvery thread. An intricately carved jewel adorned the top of his staff. Ico recognized it instantly. It was a celestial sphere—a globelike ball that showed the positions of the moon and stars, used by astrologers to divine the will of the heavens.
The old man’s hair was long, as was his beard. Both were pure white. He shook his head slightly, and Ico caught a glimpse of h
is face. His bushy eyebrows grew so long they threatened to cover his eyes, but still they could not hide his sorrow.
“This is no way to use the knowledge of the ancients,” the old man muttered, indicating the cage with the tip of his staff. “Our master has lost the way. There is no destination to our path. It leads only to darkness.”
Ico looked around again. It was the same room—but there was no dust on the floor. Nor were the stones in the wall chipped or cracked. The cage shone brightly, like new-forged steel.
“This is a mistake, a dire mistake,” the old man said, his voice like a groan. “This castle walks toward destruction.”
Ico gasped for breath. It was as though he had been underwater for a very long time and only barely made it to the surface. Like his heart had sunk into a different place for a single, long moment, and only now returned.
His sight came back. The girl was in front of him, their fingers intertwined. He felt the wooden stick gripped firmly in his other hand.
At his feet, a pool of black smoke swirled on the ground. A pair of eyes rose out of the pool, followed by that familiar black shape.
They come from the pools.
Moving quickly, Ico smacked at the head of the newly formed creature with his stick. Still holding the girl’s hand, he spun around and struck another of the creatures looming behind them. It dissipated, leaving only its eyes floating in the air. As he watched, the smoke began to coalesce around the eyes again, forming a new creature where the old one had stood. All this had taken place in only a few moments, yet more creatures had already formed out of the pool in the corner.
We have to run. Ico looked up, but the four idols still stood, blocking their exit. The window through which he had first entered the chamber was too high for him to reach, and there was no way to climb up. Neither of the two ladders in the room was tall enough, assuming he could even tear them from their moorings on the wall without breaking them.
ICO: Castle in the Mist Page 10
