Spice & Wolf III

by Isuna Hasekura

  Holo looked out on the festival as she leaned back into Lawrence.

  He was unable to see her expression, but having been complimented, he felt he should accept it as gracefully as he could manage.

  “Yes, so—Diana, was it? I went to see her for a different reason truthfully.”

  “A different reason?”

  “I suppose you could call it a favor. I tracked down the location from the scent on the letter. The place stank like the worst hot springs—it was far from enjoyable.”

  While Lawrence was impressed at Holo’s keen sense of smell, he had to admit the alchemists’ quarter must have been quite an ordeal for her.

  Holo sighed softly and continued, not looking at Lawrence. “So

  I asked her thus. I asked her if she would not invent a story of Yoitsu still existing and if she would pass it on to you.”

  Lawrence cocked his head for a moment, confused.

  But then he understood.

  Had he heard such a tale from Diana, he would surely have found it easier to speak to Holo again.

  With that as a trigger, he would’ve needed nothing more.

  “However,” continued Holo, her tone suddenly irritated. “That girl just had me explain all the circumstances to her only to turn me down.”

  “Oh...really?” Lawrence thought back on the words Diana had spoken to him as he left her house: Good luck to you.

  Had it been sarcasm?

  “It was your fault that I was refused! Consider that, why don’t

  you!

  Lawrence was jolted from his reverie by Holo stomping on his foot—though he did not follow her meaning.

  “Honestly...I suffer through the humiliation of explaining everything and am on the very cusp of success, then you show up and make that girl come up with her pointless plan.”

  He was stunned beyond words—Holo had been there when he’d visited Diana?

  “She said it would be good to test your resolve—the gall, acting as if she knows me!”

  Lawrence now understood whence came Diana’s Good luck to you.

  But he felt like he was forgetting something important.

  “I also heard that foolish question you put to her.”

  “Ah—!” Lawrence shouted, his voice strangled.

  Holo grinned devilishly and turned around to face Lawrence. “So there are many stories of gods and humans becoming mates, eh?” Her upward-cast eyes were frightening.

  She slid her slender arms around Lawrence, like a snake entrap­ping its prey.

  “If that is how you feel, I would not mind. Though I'd ask...”

  The light that fell through the window cast a red glow over Holo’s features.

  “...I’d ask you to be gentle with me.”

  She must really be a demon, Lawrence thought to himself half-seriously—but she soon dropped her act.

  “Mm. I just cannot seem to rouse myself after talking to that girl,” said Holo, looking tired as she gazed out the window, her arms still around Lawrence.

  She seemed to be looking not at the festival, but somewhere far away.

  “Did you notice that she was not human?” Holo finally said.

  Lawrence couldn’t even manage a “surely not.”

  “You saw the feathers scattered about her room, yes? Those were hers.”

  “...They were?”

  Although now that Holo mentioned it, Lawrence recalled that something about Diana had made him think of a bird.

  Holo nodded and continued, “Her true form is a bird, much larger than you. She fell in love with a traveling monk and spent many years building a church with him, but eventually he noticed that no matter how many years passed, the girl never aged—thus the monk grew suspicious. No doubt you can guess the rest.”

  Lawrence felt Holo’s arms tighten around him.

  He thought he now understood the reason why Diana collected stories and why she protected the alchemists so.

  But it would be painful to say it. Surely Holo did not want to hear it, either.

  Lawrence said nothing.

  Instead, he simply put his arm around Holo’s shoulders.

  “I wish to return to my homeland. Even...even if it’s no longer there.”

  “We will.”

  Outside the window, the giant human and lupine puppets collided, and a great cheer arose.

  But Lawrence realized the display was not reenacting some battle.

  The people controlling these battered puppets were all laugh­ing, and each onlooker seemed to have a cup of ale in hand.

  They were not hitting each other, but putting their arms about one another’s shoulders.

  Soon they began to sing and dance, and the giant puppets in the center of the intersection were set ablaze.

  Holo giggled. “Humans are so showy.”

  “They surely are.”

  Despite their distance from the intersection, Lawrence could feel the heat of the flames on his cheeks.

  The ring of revelers that surrounded the fire gave a great cheer, and the bonfire itself seemed intense enough to overpower the pale moon.

  Once again in the town of Kumersun, various gods and humans from near and far had come together to drink and celebrate after putting an end to their quarreling.

  The conflicts were finally over.

  “Shall we go?” asked Holo.

  “I suppose we shall?”

  But Holo did not immediately move. She looked up at the puzzled Lawrence. “For my part, I would not mind you being as passionate as those flames.”

  The flaming puppets had begun to collapse into a single pile.

  Lawrence laughed. “I suppose if I were drunk enough.”

  Holo laughed, her sharp fangs flashing. Her tail wagged as she spoke, delighted. “If you become drunk, who’s to watch over me? Fool!”

  Lawrence took the laughing Holo’s hand and led her out of the room.

  The Kumersun night had once again been set ablaze with festivities.

  Some time thereafter, it was spoken of in rumors that a true goddess had walked amid the crowds.

  Afterword

  It has been a while! I’m Hasekura Isuma, and this is the third volume, which makes it the third story in the series.

  This time I feel like I was able to write without forgetting the personalities of the characters. Instead of that, I’ve managed to forget the deadline for this afterword, and just a moment ago, I got a phone call from my editor, whose unfriendly smile I felt I could hear over the phone.

  I’m starting to wonder if I’m not just going to be forgotten by the readers.

  Well then, volume 3 means there are three books, of which this is the third novel. Around this time last year, I’d passed the first-round selection for the Dengeki Novel Prize and was camped out next to the phone, waiting for the results of the second-round selection. Back then, writing even one volume was a major effort—I’d write, then throw it away, write again, then throw it away again.

  So since the end of last year, I’ve been writing at a nigh-heroic pace, and even in that year, I feel like maybe I’ve grown up just a bit.

  My latest hobby is surfing real estate sites. And not normal ones. I’m talking about the big time—hundred-million-yen condos and mansions.

  I like the view from high places, so I was thinking I’d like to live someday in a high-rise condo with a view of the city lights at night. I’ve been looking at model homes along those lines, and they’re crazy. Everything’s just done up in this unimaginably overwhelming fashion, and before I knew it, I was sucked in.

  The prices had so many zeros I was rubbing my eyes just to make sure my vision still worked right, and when I saw the mere two-hundred-yen neighborhood association fee, I was genuinely relieved. Somehow I felt like I could work hard and keep on living. When I realized that using the parking lot and wine cellar (it had a wine cellar, guys!) of one of these mansions would cost more than the rent of my entire apartment, well, I guess I’m just a commoner at heart. I hope
you’ll all bear with me.

  And now, my thanks.

  To illustrator Ayakura Jyuu-sensei, thank you for making time in the midst of your busy schedule to draw such wonderful pictures. They make me want to have my writing be worthy of them every day.

  And to my editor, Koetsu-sama. For your patient grammatical guidance, I thank you. As basic corrections to my Japanese become less and less frequent, I will devote myself more thoroughly to everything that comes after those corrections.

  Finally to all of my readers, thank you for taking this book into your hands.

  Let us meet again in the next volume.

  —Hasekura Isuna