Mysterious Journey to the North Sea, Part 1

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  It was an extremely odd request, but Samon nodded. And then, as if deriding him, she said, “Why don’t you just challenge him first?”

  “I don’t feel like doing that yet.”

  “Oh, scared, are you?” Samon laughed.

  “Is that what you think?” Glen replied, his voice low.

  “No. So far as I can see, you’re a man without fear. Take care that it doesn’t cost you your life.”

  “Is that supposed to be a warning? You can bring all your friends here if you like,” Glen said, his powerful voice rebounding off the back of the now-closed door.

  —

  Leaving the inn, Samon headed for the entrance to the village. The stars twinkled above her—the night sky was crystal clear. Only her warrior training kept the breath she exhaled from coming out in a white cloud. When she came to the protective palisade, Samon stopped in her tracks. Casting her tempting gaze above her, she said, “Come on out!”

  A colossal tree stood by the side of the road, and one of its massive branches hung right over her head. It didn’t have a single leaf on it, but a giant cocoon hung there. Out popped a head. Then the left hand reached smoothly from the casing. No right hand appeared. “Noticed me, did you?” the inverted “Indiscernible Twin” said to her.

  “My, but aren’t you spry. Egbert’s still moaning from his injuries,” said Samon. Like her gaze, her voice was an ice-cold needle.

  “He got it in the chest, me in the hand—if I had to say which of us was worse off, it’d have to be him. It always pays to learn to disconnect your nerves as early as possible.”

  “You’ve been following me, haven’t you?”

  “Yep,” Twin confessed easily. In the starlight, Samon’s eyes could clearly make out the slender, boyish face. “I was curious what you were up to. You were going out a lot.”

  “Orders from Shin, I suppose?”

  “My own personal interest, actually,” Twin said, cackling like a bird. “This is the first time we’ve seen each other’s faces, but you’re quite a fine-looking woman. It’s a pity it’s night, but then I suppose that suits us more, don’t you think?”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “The guy in that room you were in—he’s some sort of drifting warrior, isn’t he? What’s his connection to you?”

  “I don’t think I have to tell you that,” said Samon.

  “At the moment, you’re one of our partners in crime. And we can’t afford to have even one two-timer in the bunch.”

  Samon was silent, but her eyes bored right through the inverted figure.

  Perhaps noticing as much, Twin cautioned her, “Don’t try anything funny. Yesterday we let everyone in on our secret plans. Since we’ve got so many injured, we decided not to attack for two or three days and rest up instead.” His friendly tone died out there. “You wouldn’t seriously . . . ,” he began to say, but his sharp tone only lasted a second.

  Right before his eyes, what looked to be a female form had begun to take shape—upside down, just was he was. As tension and bliss vied for a place on Twin’s face, the expression that surfaced there was difficult to describe.

  “The thought of me letting you in on my plans when you could never discover them even if you tried,” she laughed haughtily. “From the very start I always intended to do this on my own. Anyone who gets in my way gets sent to the next life. The Vampire Hunter, the woman, or the rest of you.”

  As she said this, Samon slid her right hand into her skirt pocket. The woman before Twin’s eyes put her right hand into her long skirt. As proof that the latter was a hallucination, her skirt didn’t fly up in accordance with gravity, but stayed just as it would’ve been if she’d been standing upright. When Samon’s right hand shot up again, there was a cold glint from it. A knife gleamed in the phantom woman’s hand, too. It couldn’t possibly be real. It was an illusion. However, it looked so solid that once it plunged into its target, blood that was all too real would surely gush from the wound. A heartbeat later, the blade that was about to bring death to Twin whipped around suddenly, slashing diagonally through the air. With a hard clink! a small stone then fell to the ground at Samon’s feet.

  “Hold it right there,” said a hoarse voice from the other side of the gate.

  “Shin—don’t tell me you’re a skirt-chaser, too?” Samon said, looking over her shoulder.

  On the other side of the fence, a human figure as thin as a crane drifted out of the weighty darkness.

  Inside, the warrior woman was terribly shaken. She believed she’d been amply careful to prevent being followed, yet two people had tailed her. The only reason she’d noticed Twin was because he’d let his guard down after achieving his aim of finding out where she always went.

  “Who was that guy, anyway?”

  “Were you looking in on us?” Samon asked. Her tone was hard. The pair hadn’t set foot outside the room.

  “I see, I hear, I smell, I touch. My eyes are everywhere, and my hands are numberless. I might be the breeze blowing under the door or the moonlight shining in through the window.”

  “So, what do you intend to do? I suppose you have some problem with this?”

  “No. He can go ahead and do what he likes.”

  Samon knit her brow. She was having difficulty understanding what the interim leader was trying to say.

  “It shouldn’t come as any great surprise,” Shin continued. “Tell him what we’re going to do and make it as easy as you can for him. I don’t suppose I have to tell you why.”

  “You mean we’ll simply let him do our job?”

  “That’s right,” he said, his voice echoing far and wide in the deep night. “I tangled with him on the ferry on the way over, and he should prove the perfect opponent for a certain Vampire Hunter. All he needs is a fighting chance, and he’s sure to kill the Hunter.” Laughing, Shin added, “And we’re going to take it upon ourselves to make just such a chance for him.”

  Samon shook her head in disgust. “He won’t like that. If he’s going to do it, he’ll do it alone—that’s the sort of man he is.”

  “Is that what you love about him?” Shin inquired in a lewd tone. “If he’s loath to accept any aid, we’ll just see to it he doesn’t know he’s gotten any. Samon, you’re to give him our information and keep us posted on his movements.”

  “Do you seriously think I could do such a thing?”

  “Well, I really don’t know. That’s up to you—or up to him, actually. Glen was the name, wasn’t it? You’re a prisoner of his manly charms.”

  Whizzing through the air with blistering speed, a flash of silver linked Samon’s hand to the figure.

  A cry of pain rang out.

  Quickly looking up at the branch above her to confirm that Twin remained under her spell, Samon then dashed toward the fence. Gathering her skirt slightly, she kicked off the ground. Easily clearing the ten-foot-high palisade, as she came back down to earth a black figure lay on the ground just in front of her.

  “Not as tough as you make yourself out to be,” Samon laughed. But on taking a closer look, she froze. The figure she was so certain had been actual size had become a wooden doll less than eight inches tall with a knife sticking out of it.

  “You can’t see me. And since you can’t, your powers won’t work on me,” said Shin. His voice rang out from behind her—although it actually sounded more like he was whispering right into her ear. “It’s not a bad deal. Whether you love him or hate him, the results are likely to prove equally satisfying. Or would you prefer to die as a traitor? If it comes to that, we’ll kill him, too.”

  Unmoving, Samon seemed to have become part of the night. Shortly thereafter, when Twin had returned from the dreamy world of nostalgia and raced over still sleepy-eyed, a low and unsettling laugh slipped from the warrior woman. “Intriguing,” Samon chuckled. “It’s none of your business how I feel about him. But I’ll tell you what I’d like to see—those two gorgeous men soaked in each other’s blood.”

 
; —

  Elsewhere, around the same time, the voice of the waves echoed around a tiny house overlooking the sea. As if listening to its every word, the gorgeous figure in the yard was motionless, becoming one with the darkness.

  The door to the main house opened and lamplight danced on the verandah out back. Holding a long, thin bottle and two glasses in one hand, Su-In called out D’s name. She wore an insulated half-coat of dark blue. It was the kind where the inner lining could be filled with hot water to keep it warm. If the lining was made of northern cod intestines, it would hold the heat all day long, but such coats tore quite easily and weren’t really suited to rough work.

  “Patrolling at this hour?” the woman asked. “Say, you care for a drink? I know it’s chilly out, but I can fire up the stove, and the stars are so beautiful.”

  D climbed up onto the verandah. He might have intended to go to sleep, as his longsword hung from his left hand. He still had his coat on, which was thoroughly in keeping with his character.

  Setting the bottle and glasses down on the round top of a little wooden table, Su-In settled back in a chair that was also crafted of wood. With one hand she switched on the oil heater by her feet. She held out a glass filled two-thirds with burgundy-colored liquid, and D accepted it. Not taking a chair, he leaned back against the railing instead.

  “I’ve heard dhampirs don’t drink, but I appreciate you humoring me. All you have to do is hold it. Just to set the mood,” Su-In said.

  Swallowing a mouthful, she turned her attention to D’s longsword. The glass was in his left hand. His longsword was leaning against the railing.

  “Always keep your right hand free—isn’t that the warrior way? That’s the way all the ones who came through the village were. That’s a strange sword, though.”

  D didn’t reply.

  Not seeming to mind, Su-In continued, “I’ve never seen a sword curved like that before. Where was it made? You sure travel around, don’t you? All alone . . .”

  Her glass rose again, and her throat bobbed.

  Suddenly letting his eyes drop from her drink, D said, “There’s work again tomorrow.”

  Eyes going wide, Su-In set her glass down and exhaled violently. “Don’t startle me like that,” she exclaimed. “Why, the very thought of you caring about anyone else. Okay, even if you do worry about me, don’t ever say it out loud. It’ll ruin your image. Or could it be you’re worried my getting drunk will make your job tougher?”

  “That’s right.”

  Su-In shut her eyes. Pulling the front of her fur-trimmed coat shut, she said, “The harsh truth. It really hits hard tonight, that’s for sure. But I understand how it is. I can’t get too dependent on you. After all, someday you’ll be gone.”

  Her eyes turned upward, catching D. He was staring out toward the garden. Maybe he was watching the stars.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry,” the woman told him. “Grampa’s not gonna come back as some sort of monster. There’re two more graves beside his, right? My mother’s and father’s. I’m sure they’re all swapping jokes in the hereafter.”

  There was no reply from the Hunter.

  Su-In continued gulping down the contents of her glass. “My mother and father died at sea,” she said. “Got rammed by a monster of a giant killer whale before they could finish it off. Their bodies never came back up. So those graves are just markers. I bet Grampa can’t even talk to them. But it’s still better than Wu-Lin. Poor girl . . . I can’t even make a grave for her,” Su-In said, something gleaming in her eye.

  That was something she personally had decided after talking to D. Everything would come out after those who sought the bead had been dealt with and the secrets of the bead had been solved—it would avoid causing any more complications. But Wu-Lin’s funeral would have to wait until then.

  Su-In gazed at D, a fierce light in her eyes. “You’re gonna outlive me, right?” she said to him. “Chances are I could wind up just like Wu-Lin. If it comes to that, I’d like you to make me a grave. You’ll probably be the last person to ever see me or my sister . . .”

  The surface of the wine in D’s glass didn’t display even the tiniest ripple.

  “You’re going to hide,” D said succinctly.

  “Where?”

  “I’m sure Dwight would be glad to give you some advice on that,” D replied.

  “Don’t get the wrong idea about the two of us.”

  “They should know by now that I have the bead. The only use they’d have for you from here on out is as a hostage.”

  “You don’t pull any punches, do you? But I don’t wanna do that,” Su-In said. “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna run and hide. Especially not from the bastards that killed my sister. I know there’s no way I could beat them in a fight, but I at least want them to know they don’t scare me. What’s more—”

  D turned and gazed at Su-In.

  “Thanks to you bagging three big ones for me, I can get by this summer without going out fishing. So I’ve got a school to run.”

  Keeping silent for a bit, D finally said, “That’s fine.”

  “Thanks for going along with my decision. It’s always reassuring to have someone on your side.”

  “When does school start?” asked the Hunter.

  “The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow’s the schoolhouse’s grand opening ceremony.”

  “What do you teach?”

  “Are you interested?” Su-In blinked her eyes. Her cheeks were a little flushed. “If we had a teacher like you, we’d be in serious trouble. Oh, the problems we’d have with students falling in love with you. I bet the grades would be the worst ever. Since you ask, I do math and social studies at the moment.”

  “By social studies, do you mean history?”

  “No, geography. The kids are really looking forward to it. If you like, why don’t you teach them something?”

  D didn’t say anything.

  Sighing, Su-In set down her glass and stared at her own hand. “I can hold chalk,” she said, “but a brush is pretty tricky with hands like these.”

  Big and thick as any man’s, her hands were covered with calluses all the way to the fingertips. Hauling nets, throwing harpoons, washing boats—she’d been doing these things since childhood. After a whole decade of such work, even a woman would earn toughened hands. Su-In took her index finger and tapped it against the table. Over and over, there was the sound of wood striking wood.

  “You know, I wanted to be an artist,” she said plainly.

  “There aren’t any pictures in your house, though.”

  “I burnt them all up, right after my parents’ funeral was over. I think the only reason I’m here today is because I did that.” She went on to explain that Wu-Lin had only been nine at the time, and her grandfather had already reached the point where everyday life was tough enough for him.

  “I heard your grandfather helped people with hypnotism.”

  “Not that he could do much with it,” Su-In countered quickly. “When folks work out on the wintry sea, there’s not much you can accomplish just by looking in their eyes. All Grampa Han could do was ease their remaining pain some.”

  “That’s enough,” D replied. “It’s better than just staying sad.”

  “I think so,” Su-In said, power in her voice. “A few people forgot all about crying, thanks to Grampa. But after about six months, they’d come back in tears and beg him to make them remember again. I don’t know the exact reason why. But I get the feeling I understand. People can forget all kinds of sad things. But some things are just so sad, they have to be remembered . . .” Su-In’s words died out there. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “Did your grandfather use his hypnotism all of the time?”

  Su-In shook her head. “After that happened a few times, he just gave it up completely.” An ambiguous expression flitted across her round face. A memory had come back to her. Most likely, Su-In herself didn’t know whether that was good or bad. �
��Oh, that’s right . . . ,” she said dreamily. “There was this one time . . . about six months ago, I said to Grampa it’d been five years since he’d used his hypnotism . . . and he said that no, there’d been this one time about three years ago when he’d used it just once . . .”

  “Who did he use it on?” D inquired.

  “Just a second—I remember it clearly . . . I asked him that very same thing. That’s right. But he never answered me. I always did wonder about that, though.”

  “Do you have any idea who it might’ve been?”

  “No.”

  “You should get some sleep,” D said as he pulled away from the handrail.

  “You’re really not gonna drink that, are you?” Su-In said somewhat bitterly, raising the other glass to her mouth. But it stopped short. With incredible willpower she returned the glass to the table. “I suppose you’re right,” she said to the Hunter. “I’ll pass on that. A fisherman’s one thing, but for a teacher to reek of booze wouldn’t be good.”

  “You’re right,” D said, slowly stepping down from the verandah.

  “D,” Su-In called out to him in a low voice.

  Not turning, D asked her what she wanted.

  “Nothing. That’s a good name you have.”

  “Good night.”

  Not saying another word, Su-In followed his back with her eyes as he walked away to the barn. Even after the figure of beauty had disappeared through the entrance and the door had shut, the woman didn’t move for the longest time.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  —

  Hideyuki Kikuchi was born in Chiba, Japan in 1949. He attended the prestigious Aoyama University and wrote his first novel Demon City Shinjuku in 1982. Over the past two decades, Kikuchi has authored numerous horror novels, and is one of Japan’s leading horror masters, writing novels in the tradition of occidental horror authors like Fritz Leiber, Robert Bloch, H. P. Lovecraft, and Stephen King. As of 2004, there are seventeen novels in his hugely popular ongoing Vampire Hunter D series. Many live action and anime movies of the 1980s and 1990s have been based on Kikuchi’s novels.