by A. R. Cook
Atop a cliff overlooking the ocean, not far from the nests where the sirens slept soundly, the sphinx was sitting quietly, holding her paw over her face to mask her tears. She did not quite understand herself, why she let this boy hurt her so. Was it any surprise, the way he reacted? He did not understand her culture, and he felt betrayed. But he had named her. She knew from the moment he had intruded on her camp that he was unlike the others. But he was human too; why should he have been so different as to not find her … revolting …
She felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see a silk handkerchief dangling in front of her nose.
“Wipe your nose. You look unbecoming, your face all puffed and red like that,” her orange-haired cousin remarked.
Acacia snarled at him, hissing for him to go away.
Nico shrugged and tucked his handkerchief in his pocket. “Sulking in self-loathing, Cousin? I don’t blame you. You are difficult to deal with. But, if it’s any consolation, it’s no real loss. Humans are overly abundant. If you fancy that breed, you have more than an ample selection to replace that one.”
The sphinx sprang up at him, snagging Nico by the collar of his suit with her claws. She snapped her teeth at him, grazing his nose.
The Teumessian grinned. “Temper, temper, Cousin … I’m sorry, Acacia. Enjoy your name, because it’s all you’re going to have left.”
She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head.
“You see, I wanted to make sure you were distracted long enough for my friends to get your ‘favorite’ lost in the Curtain, past the point where you could do anything to stop them.”
The sphinx’s eyes widened in panic. She knew her cousin was not lying. She took off like a bolt of lightning from the cliff, spreading her black wings and catching the wind. She flew as fast as possible, creating such a powerful gust with her wing-beats that it awakened the sirens from sleep, believing a hurricane was approaching.
Nico watched his cousin speed off, knowing she would be too late.
The Curtain rolled about like an infuriated storm cloud, but the two gypsies led David forward into it without hesitation. The young man held his breath as the Curtain wrapped around him, and he was pulled forward into its opaque haze. He gripped the hands that guided him, unable to even see the two women by his side.
And then they weren’t by his side.
He was alone.
“Isabella? Moline??” David felt a shock of fear ripple through him as he reached out, trying to find the women. “Where are you? I can’t see anything!”
Then he heard giggling. Not the type of giggling that two human women would make, but a whimsical, child-like giggling he had heard only earlier that evening. For a second, he saw the silhouettes of two petite shapes in the fog, and then they leaped away like antelope, light and bouncy in a way only nymphs could move.
The Teumessian’s nymphs! They had tricked him!
David took one step in an attempt to get out of the fog, but instantly he was pitched downwards, tumbling head over heels. He saw himself sinking down beneath the water, away from the cloud of the Curtain and deep into shadow, but there was no sound, no feeling, no sense of drowning or cold. It was nothingness, just a draining of color and light until disorientation set in, and David was not sure how long he had been falling before he became unconscious.
Chapter Five
David awoke to the sound of someone screeching at him, in a dialect he had never heard before.
He struggled to awaken. His head was sore and his bones ached. He could feel that he was moving, and that he was lying on something scaly and wet. Opening his eyes, he saw a river surrounding him, and grassy shores swiftly rushing past him. Looking down, he found that he was lying on something large, splotched with white, orange and brown. Two massive fins paddled on each side, and a long tail swiveled to and fro behind.
He was on a koi fish the size of a boat.
If that was not strange enough, there was an unusual animal dangling by its sinewy arm from a tree branch that stretched out over the river. It was roughly the size of a cat, having the body of a tortoise, the head and limbs of a monkey, and it was green all over. It was shrieking at David, in what he could tell were words, but none of any language he’d ever studied.
The fish slowed down to a halt beneath the turtle-monkey. The monkey piped a few quick words at David. The young man sat up on the fish’s back, blinking wearily at the chirping peculiarity.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” David called up to the turtle-monkey. A few days ago, he would have found talking to a monkey ridiculous. A lot had changed since then.
The green monkey jumped down from its branch, landing squarely on David’s chest. David gasped. The monkey tipped his head forward, and David could see three holes in the top of it. Out of these holes poured a liquid, which splashed directly into David’s mouth. He choked on the liquid, but could not keep from swallowing it.
“What was that for?” he spat.
His anger dissipated instantly when the turtle-monkey, in clear, comprehensible words, replied, “That was so you could understand what I’m saying, Bald Butt!”
David’s jaw dropped so wide, crows could have flown into it.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” The monkey pulled and poked at David’s clothing. “You’re lucky Kami here found you, or you’d be a drowned sack of bones. Where’d you come from?”
“I was … walking through the Curtain …”
“The Curtain! Now humans are walking through the Curtain. There goes the neighborhood.” The turtle-monkey sat down across from David upon the fish’s back, and the fish resumed swimming. “Lost, are you?”
“Yes … where am I, exactly?”
“The Kyoto province.”
David furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh …”
“The rest should be obvious. You’re speaking Japanese right now.”
Japan? How had he ended up in Japan? David knew where Japan was from his world maps at home, although his knowledge of the land was limited. All he knew was that it was halfway around the world from where he wanted to be! “How did I get here? I was in France when we went through the Curtain the first time …”
The monkey scratched his chin. “France …never heard of it. The Curtain is tricky. You can walk into it in one place, and when you walk out, you’re someplace else. I don’t travel through it much myself. Got everything I need here.”
David sighed, resting his arms on his knees. “I don’t suppose you could help me get back through the Curtain?”
“Nope. Not unless …” The turtle-monkey had an eager shine in his eyes. “Do you have any cucumbers?”
David shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”
“That’s a shame. Can I have some of your blood?”
“My blood? No!”
“Drat. No one ever says yes.”
“Are you … a vampire?”
The monkey rubbed his head. “If a vampire likes cucumbers and blood, then yes! But around here, they call me a kappa.” He rapped his fingers on the belly of his tortoise shell body. “And I’d much rather have a cucumber than blood. Nice and crunchy.” He grinned, showing his pointy fangs.
David took a moment to think. He didn’t have any money on him to arrange a means of travel to get back home. He pondered if he could secretly hitch a ride on a steam train, the way he heard vagabonds did, but even if locomotives ran in this area, it wouldn’t do much good since Japan was an island. He had no idea where to find a port in this place, and he doubted this giant fish he was riding would be willing to swim him all the way home.
“Could you please help me get back into the Curtain? I have no other way to get home,” David pleaded.
The kappa stuck his tongue out at him. “Why should I? You don’t have any cucumbers.”
“I can get you cucumbers, if that’s what you want! I need to find the sphinx. She’ll know how to get me back home.”
“Sphinx?” The kappa’s face lighted
up. “Does a sphinx have cucumbers?”
David grunted in frustration. “Stop thinking about cucumbers for a minute! I need to get home. The Curtain is the only way. I would be eternally grateful if you would help me, or direct me to someone who can.”
The kappa scratched his head. “I think I know someone who could help. He’s the smartest creature I know. And he always has something good to eat.”
“Gracias! Will you take me to him?”
“Uh uh uh.” The turtle-monkey shook his head, but he did so carefully so not to spill the water in his head holes. “I can’t go too far from water. My head will dry out. And my friend lives way out across the fields, and there are big men with swords that dwell there. Nope, can’t go.”
David felt apprehensive about the armed men, but surely now that he could speak Japanese, he could reason with them. He thought for a moment, and then said, “Would you take me if I … let you have a little—just a little—blood?” He held out his wrist with great reluctance.
The kappa licked his lips at the exposed wrist, but then gave David a doubtful glare. “You’re not a bad blood, are you? Rotten, sick blood? Humans only give rotten, sick stuff away that they don’t want.”
“No, it’s good, as far as I know.”
The kappa took David’s hand, and gave him a sharp nip on the finger with one of its fangs. He tested one drop of blood, smacking his lips. “Not bad. But it would be better with sake. My friend has some. I’ll take you to him, very quickly, and then I’ll take your payment with sake. Maybe he has cucumbers today, too.” The kappa’s face bloomed with bliss at the thought.
The countryside of Kyoto was breathtaking. The fields of long grass swayed rhythmically in the wind, and in the distance, mountains watched over the land like patient monks in meditation. Everything was alien to David, but at the same time it had a familiar tranquility that reminded him of home. As they walked, the kappa led David as quickly as he could, either because of the enigmatic men with swords that were supposedly nearby, or because the liquid in the holes in his head was rapidly drying up.
“Who are these men you mentioned before?” David asked. “The ones who have weapons? Are they bandits?”
The kappa kept his voice low, although there was no sign of anyone being around. “They used to be honorable warriors who were dedicated to serving their masters. But now they have no masters. So they don’t know what to do. Sometimes they become bandits, sometimes hired soldiers for war. But the men in this place … they are not nice men. They prey on villagers and wayward travelers for money. And they don’t much care for foreigners either. If we run into them, you’re a dead duck.”
David made a soft gulp. Maybe he should have stayed on the fish.
They made their way into the lush greenery of a forest. The kappa hopped from tree trunk to tree trunk as David made his way through the brush. He tried to enjoy the quiet bliss of the forest, but his active imagination planted hidden warriors behind each tree, ready to impale him with bow and arrow and sword. He brushed off the flies that were congregating on his neck and arms, drawn in by his drenching sweat. David was thankful that the canopy was thick enough to shade him from the glaring sun, but after walking for what must have been over an hour, the heat and exhaustion were flaying him mercilessly.
They came upon a dirt road running through the forest, a path having been trampled by many horse hooves. The kappa sniffed at the dirt road, and the air.
“Good, we are almost there,” he said. But then he snapped his head down the road behind them, and his ears twitched. His eyes grew wide, and he scrambled up the nearest tree in a blur of green.
“Hey, where are you going?” David demanded, but then he heard what the kappa had heard: approaching hoofbeats. He looked back to see two figures on horseback riding his way at a fast pace, and he knew they had already spotted him. He wasn’t sure whether to run or stand his ground—maybe these weren’t bandits, but the local patrol of a nearby village and he could explain himself. But being a foreigner may not work in his interest, so he dashed off the road and ran as fast as his feet could carry him, darting between the trees.
The men on their chestnut brown horses followed in pursuit, artfully steering their steeds around the tall tree trunks. David heard the sharp thwack of something behind him hitting a tree, and the whooshing sound of something fast flying past his head.
They’re shooting at me!
The ground suddenly sloped down drastically, and at the pace David was running he couldn’t adjust fast enough to keep from stumbling. He tumbled down the hill like a rolling barrel, thankfully avoiding any trees and rocks, but when he reached the bottom he fell straight into a muddy ditch. By the time he climbed up and out, the two horsemen had arrived and were aiming arrows at his head.
David’s heart beat rapidly as he thought of what to do. He put his hands up, saying, “I don’t have anything you want. I’m a stranger here, and I have no money or possessions. Just let me be on my way.”
One of the horsemen, a ronin displaying deep scars on his face, curled his lip. “You are trespassing on our land. Anyone who travels through here must pay us tribute. If you have no money, we will take those fine clothes you are wearing.”
Being naked was better than being dead, but then what would keep these men from killing him after he handed over his clothes? The only reason they probably weren’t killing him now was because they didn’t want blood all over his apparel, whether they were planning on selling the material or keeping it for themselves. David tried a bluff. “Look, I can get you money. My friend has a gold stash out here in these woods that I was coming to get for him. I’ll let you have it if you don’t kill me.”
The two ronin glanced at each other, and the one who had not spoken yet gave a quick nod. They kept their arrows locked on David. “Show us,” the first man said.
David walked along, while the two men followed him. His mind was going at rapid-fire pace to think of how he was going to get out of this one. His bluff was buying him time, but it wouldn’t last for long. Where was that bloody kappa anyway? He could be of help right now.
After a long walk, the two ronin growing more impatient with each step, they came to a wooden bridge crossing a river. David paused as a quickly-crafted plan came to his mind.
“It’s tucked away in a dirt mound under the bridge,” he told the two ronin. “I’ll go get it.”
“No,” one of the ronin barked. “You will stay here. He will go get it,” he confirmed, beckoning his friend to go look.
David’s heart sank. He was hoping to slip under the bridge and swim away downstream. He was a good swimmer and hopefully he’d dodge any arrows the ronin might fire after him. But it was clear that the two ronin had already suspected that sort of escape attempt. One ronin dismounted his horse and made his way down the river bank. The second ronin continued to keep his eye on David, arrow at the ready.
David held his breath as he waited for the man to come back, furious that there was nothing there, and beat him to death.
A loud skull-shattering crack broke the silence.
The ronin next to David toppled off his horse, unconscious. A large shape galloped past David, and he could see it was a third man on horseback, only this man was draped head to toe in white and riding a horse with a docked tail cut short to three inches. The second ronin scurried back up from the bridge to try and get the bow he had left in his horse’s saddle, but before he could, the mystery rider charged him, his horse rearing up wildly. The ronin staggered backwards to keep from getting kicked by the horse’s hooves, and he fell down into the river. The rushing water swept him away a good distance before he made his way back to shore. David and the white-clad horseman watched as the ronin took flight into the woods.
David released his breath in a long exhale. He turned to thank his rescuer, but then hesitated. Could this be a rival bandit taking out the competition? For all he knew, this horseman could be even deadlier than the two men who had accosted him.
“Why did you help me?” David asked as they plodded along.
The man did not answer. David then noticed something else. The man’s horse did not have a docked tail. It was not even a horse’s tail. It was a small brownish tuft of fur.
“Since I saved you,” the mystery man said, “I think it’s only fair that you give me a ride.”
“But, you already have a …”
Before David could finish, the man and horse both shrank and changed shape. In their place was a small striped badger. The badger sauntered over, balancing on his hind legs.
“Well?” the badger huffed. “Are you going to give me a ride or not?”
Chapter Six
“That was fun!” the badger laughed as he balanced on his hind legs atop David’s head. “I haven’t had a good tussle like that since I beat that smelly Oni at arm-wrestling.”
The badger had directed David through the forest to a small shack surrounded by a modest garden. Within the hut, there was not much: woven mats on the floor, a brown kotatsu-style dining table and cushions, a fire pit, and a horde of empty bottles. The kappa was already there when they arrived, trying to pull his finger out of a bottle in which he was now stuck.
