Chapter Eight

My cloak, coat, bag and boots came off at the door. It was toasty in here, so I extinguished my warming spell to keep from overheating. Alice spread a frayed old blanket on the couch in her front room.

“No offense, but I’m not letting your ruin my upholstery.” She turned to her familiar hovering nearby. “Shanghai, go make tea for us, please. Use the last of the expensive loose-leaf.”

“A better beverage has never been defined for tireless work of a visiting dignitary,” said Shanghai, flying out of the room toward what I assumed was the kitchen. “I shall boil and steep my way to exuberant success.”

Alice headed to a different hallway, pointing at the couch as she went.

“Relax here while I get first aid.”

I needed no coaxing. I’m tall enough that by resting my head back against one of the arm rests, my feet still dangled off the other. Even so, lying on her couch felt better than anything my body had done for days.

While waiting, I took in my surroundings. I wouldn’t say it aloud, but Alice’s home felt like a village fair attraction. The room was stacked with dolls, shelves upon shelves of the things. Some big, some small. Some boy, some girl. Some dressed in traditional robes, others in modern dress.

Alice came into the room, carrying a tray that she set on the end table by the couch. She grabbed a stool from across the room, pulled beside me and sat.

“Your fairy familiar is a good little servant,” I said. “Kind of her to bring me here.”

“Indeed, but she’s a living doll, not a fairy. I created her myself. Show me the wound.”

With some effort, I pulled up my dress skirt, far enough to show my wrapped leg but no further. Alice’s face bunched up in a combination of disgust and concern.

“Ugh! What happened?”

I needed another lie, and hoped this would sound plausible.

“Stab wound,” I said. “I was assaulted by a cat girl who thought I was trying to invade a village she’s building in the Forest. She took one of my knives in a tussle.”

“Ah, so you met Chen. Did you finish her off?”

“No. I returned the favor with a knife to the side, then she ran away.”

“Good riddance. Hopefully she gives up trying to annex Forest land.”

Alice turned her attention to the tray, which was stacked with supplies: a bowl of clean water and a washcloth, long strips of bandage cloth, a bottle with a quark stopper, a brass-lidded jar, a small knife and a pair of scissors.

These last Alice took in hand, snipped them in air twice. She had to exert some grip strength to cut through my emergency bandage. The bleeding must have stopped, so it had dried and crusted all over my leg. I didn’t look down, but I’m sure the exposed wound was a gruesome sight.

“These are dark times,” Alice muttered as she pulled the bandage off and set it aside. “The weather refuses to warm, Marisa isn’t back yet, I haven’t slept well in days, and some strangely-mangled woman shows up on my doorstep.”

I needed to keep her from thinking about her human friends.

“Shanghai mentioned music playing every night,” I said. “Is that keeping you up?”

“Oh yes.” Alice dunked the washcloth and began wiping my leg clean. She gave the wound itself only a gentle pat. “I’ve tried everything. Earplugs, pillow over my head, having Shanghai buzz her wings to drown the music out. I even dabbled in aeromancy, tried solidifying a shell of air around my house. It kept out all noise except the music. I’m at my wit’s end.”

“What’s making the music?”

“I haven’t gone to check yet.” Alice grabbed the corked bottle and shook it. “This is going to sting.”

I nodded, then closed my eyes. Liquid fire poured onto the wound. I clenched my teeth and took in a sharp breath.

“But whatever’s making the music,” she went on, using the towel to dry the excess, “it’s not natural. Something magical carries it from outside the Forest, and it gets through anything I try for some peace and quiet. It’s maddening.”

Alice took hold of the jar and unscrewed its brass lid. A pungent smell immediately filled the room, stinging at my nose. She scooped out a dollop with one finger and gently smeared it on the wound. This ointment tingled, but didn’t sting.

As she worked, my mind drifted. I remembered yesterday, the winter elemental had told me about the spring thief retreating through a gate on the far side of the magician’s wood.

I raised one arm, pointing in the direction that I thought Letty meant.

“Does it come from that way?” I said.

Alice glanced at my hand, then took the bandage strip and started wrapping.

“About, yes. Did you hear it last night too?”

I shook my head. “No. I spent the night outdoors, further from here.”

Her eyes opened wide. “You slept outside? No wonder Chen was able to pounce on you. It’s a miracle you didn’t get eaten or freeze to death.”

“Our librarian sent me out with some spellcards to make winter hiking and camping easier.”

The bandage was tied. Alice cut off the slack, then leaned back and laid down her tools.

“Well, if you had set out a day or two later, you might have heard it. It’s been getting louder every night. That’s part of why I was so irritated when you arrived. Today I planned to go out and investigate. I had been waiting for the weather to warm up first, but enough is enough.”

I pulled my dress skirt down, careful not to disturb the new bandage around my leg.

“You should still go,” I said, “and I want to come with you.”

That’s when Shanghai floated back into the front room, holding both arms up to carry a fully-laden tea tray above her head. Alice turned to take it from her.

“Are you sure?” said Alice, setting the tray down on the end table. “With a leg like that, you should be resting.”

“I’m sure.” I sat up.

---

Alice gave me time to care for bodily needs first. I destroyed two cups of tea, the very instant it had cooled enough to drink. She had Shanghai prepare us a simple lunch of rice and beans and some preserved daikon, which I devoured at the fastest speed etiquette would allow.

As we spent a couple of hours resting and preparing, my mind did the thing I dreaded most: it went back to dwell on Reimu and Marisa.

I had failed in my mission. The human girls would never return to meet with my mistress. Maybe I could go back to Remilia empty-handed. Maybe I could endure the disappointment on her face. Maybe she could find a way to understand and forgive.

… but I couldn’t bear any of that. Charging headlong into danger frightened me less than going home after screwing up so badly. My only hope of keeping good favor was to press on, find the missing spring and return it myself, even it kills me.

---

Alice noticed me hobbling around her house as we prepared. When I limped into her kitchen to fill my travel flask, she approached me from behind.

“Do you need help?” she said. “I can probably find a walking stick that you could use as a cane.”

“I can manage, and I don’t want to run Lady Scarlet’s bill up any higher.”

“Mm, suit yourself.”

Alice shrugged on her winter coat and wrapped her neck in a scarf. I donned all my own gear, put on my boots with some difficulty, then checked my spellcard folder. My supply of cards was dwindling; only one warmth spell and two light spells remained. I decided to use neither today, at least not yet.

We were out the front door. Alice locked up behind us. Shanghai hovered nearby, until we were a few paces down the path. She came to rest by sitting on her mistress’s shoulder, holding on to her scarf for balance.

I wrapped my cloak tight around myself, already missing the warming spell.

“Do you know exactly where we’re going?” I said, my head bobbing up and down as I limped.

“No, but it won’t be hard to find. The music carries better at night, but we’ll hear it once we’re close enough.” She glanced up to the sky. “Speaking of which, see that?”

“What?” I looked up, saw nothing but a slate of gray cloud.

“The sky’s already dimming. We should have five more hours of daylight, but we might get about three.”

“Days are shorter in winter.”

“Not this short. It was like this yesterday too, although not this bad.”

Had it been? Yesterday felt like an eternity in my memory.

“It’s probably another symptom of the long winter,” I said. “The mages in my family believe this is coming from someone stealing seasonal energy from Gensokyo.”

Alice took in a slow breath, let it out in a white puff that quickly disappeared in the icy air. I could hear her anxiety.

“I wouldn’t have believed that before you showed up this morning,” she said, “but if Marisa was telling the truth about a little girl vampire mucking up the sky last summer...”

“Believe me. I wish that was only a tall tale.”

“... then we’re in big trouble. I’m not an expert in seasonal magic, but if that energy keeps disappearing, we might soon get no daylight at all. Gensokyo could turn into a permanently dark, icy wasteland – like those tundras in the Arctic that get no sunlight for six months, except that would be year-round for us.”

“We can’t let that happen.”

“We might have no say in the matter,” she said. “The forces at work are way bigger than us.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I’m not stopping.”

“Fine? Just don’t take me down with you.”

---

We followed the trail for a couple of hours, slowly nearing the edge of the Forest. The trees thinned, soon to let us out to the snowed-over grassland. Alice had been right about the daylight; nighttime was coming on fast.

“I don’t have many light spells left.” I said. “You’re a magician. Can you light the way?”

“I could, but no need.” Alice pointed up ahead. “Look, over there. Listen.”

I squinted in that direction, and then it hit me. I heard the music, and I saw the light. Both were far off still, but definitely there.

“Is that it?”

“It must be.”

I’m no musician so I can’t well describe the sound, but I can describe the sight.

On hot days, if you stand in an open landscape, you can see a shimmering mirage in the distance. It looks like the surface of water, only until you get close enough that it vanishes from where it first seemed to be.

This was like that, but in reverse. We came closer, and it faded into existence. It took shape as a great pillar of light, standing from the ground up to the sky, maybe a few dozen feet wide. It glowed with all colors, morphing like blended rainbows. I felt a sting in my chest.

It looked exactly like a miniature version of the Boundary. I hadn’t seen the Boundary since these stupid winter clouds came to stay, because it reflects only direct sunlight and moonlight. This mimicry made me realize that I missed the real thing.

A minute later, we had exited the Forest of Magic. Gensokyo’s plains yawned out before us and to our right, with the foothills climbing into the mountains on our left. A mile off, maybe less, stood the pillar of light. Where it touched the ground, multicolored lights danced on the snow.

I hesitated. Alice took a step past, then stopped and looked back at me.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“The snow is deeper out here,” I said, patting my wounded leg. “It’s going to be tough.”

“Want to go back?”

“No.” I took a deep breath. “I can’t go back.”

We pushed on. It hurt, and I struggled, but it could only slow me down. I envied Shanghai, being able to fly or sit on Alice’s shoulder.

We drew closer to the light pillar. I could better hear the music, and it was lovely. Sweet and sorrowful one minute, loud and bold the next, happy and frantic the next. Despite the variety of melody, I could only pick out three instruments: one string, one horn, and one piano.

“Are people actually playing in there?” I said, moving forward one pained step at a time.

“I’m not sure,” said Alice, pushing through the snow beside me.

As we approached, a new sound came through. We heard singing. A trio of voices belted out a song in time with the music.

Are you brave enough to sing a song?

Put to words that for which your heart longs
And show to the world just how weak or strong
You are in face of that nameless fear
Of never obtaining what you hold dear.

Such a curse
Has plagued those better
Who sang songs long before you and I.
They, too, hurt,
But overcame and
Wrote the songs that lived long after they died.

But here you say,
“Back in their day,
It must have been so easy
To put down the words that moved us
So long after.
We have so much
Worry of such
Working off our loans
Managing the home
That it takes my mind away from song.”

That excuse fails.
Our worries pale
Compared to those of their day,
Where people died for want of food
And clean water.
Your modern wealth
And lasting health
Give you no reason why
You can live this lie
And keep doing your heart the same wrong.

How can any soul live happily
Without the true blessing of poetry?
All hearts waver, eyes are brought to tears
In the face of words sung in love sincere.

This power is a rare one that lasts,
And we still hum the best tunes from our past.
Bards and poets all have their short lives,
But their work transcends our ideas of time.

Knowing this now,
You realize how
You’ve shunned that which you’ve wanted
Since before you knew what it meant
For words to rhyme.
That want returns.
It aches and yearns
For those elusive words.
Who cares if they’re heard?
Just sing, and waste no more of your time.

It will be hard,
To’ve come so far
Without ever having a song to sing that
It might seem like your voice has left
Far behind you.
Never give up!
Your voice is what
Was given you to show
Forever ago,
And sing again as you were meant to!

The singing stopped, but its music kept playing. We had arrived at the light pillar. It was full nighttime now, or nearly so, but this thing was more than bright enough to see by.

Up this close, we could hear a deep humming noise under the music, soft but heavy. It gently rattled my insides.

“Look at this!” said Alice, raising her voice to be heard over the commotion. “I can’t imagine anyone working a spell that’s both this big and this stable.”

“It’s so very much so, as your graciously astute observation would attest, Mistress.” Shanghai’s wings buzzed into glowing blur. She took to the air and hovered toward the pillar’s bright-colorful wall before us.

“Be careful, now,” said Alice.

“Oh I shall be, beloved Mistress. Isn’t it spectacularly saccharine? Like all the world’s candy, confections, or oral-health concern-causing sweets collected into a spectral apparition. It looks so delicious, I should like to—”

She reached out a hand, as if to scoop some of the light into her mouth like pudding. Where she touched it, white sparks spat out from the contact. Her wings stuck straight off her back. She went limp and fell, plopping into the snow.

“Shanghai!” Alice ran over, picked Shanghai up off the ground, then hopped a few steps back to get away from the pillar. She brushed the snow off her familiar and cradled her like a baby. “Are you all right? Say something.”

“Don’t worry for me, Mistress!” said Shanghai from Alice’s arms. “I’m quite the picture of magnanimously preserved health. I’m shaken, yes, very much so, but none the worse for wearing homemade clothes.”

“You’d better not be. I made your clothes. Why are you so reckless? When you see something huge and ominous and unknown, the first thing you do is don’t touch it.”

“A well-learned lesson, Mistress. I shall take it to my grave.”

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”

As I watched these two, my mind churned. Unlike Alice, I didn’t think this light pillar – or the long winter itself, for that matter – were natural. Someone was doing this. I had met the perpetrator briefly at Reimu’s shrine, two nights ago.

Letty had told me that the thief was bringing the spring energy to a gate here. The gate must be inside the pillar, along with whoever was making the music. That must mean it was possible to enter the pillar, at least for someone.

“Alice!” I called, taking her attention. “Would you try touching the beam, like Shanghai did?”

She scowled at me. “Are you insane? It’s guarded with some warding spell.”

“I’m wondering whether it only affects youkai.”

“Why do you...?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t care. If you have a theory, test it yourself.”

“All right.”

I limped up to the light, and I had to squint to keep it from overwhelming my eyes. I put a hand to the pillar. Part of me expected a shock and another burst of sparks, but nothing happened. There was no resistance. My hand went right through, and cast a black streak of shadow down to the ground from where I touched.

More than that, my hand felt warm.

“I think I can go in,” I said.

“Don’t!” said Alice. “You’ll get burned to a crisp.”

No, I wouldn’t. If I were serious about returning Gensokyo’s spring at any price, this is what I needed to do.

I turned around to face Alice, and I gave her the best bow I could manage.

“Thank you for lunch, Alice, and for the medical care. I probably won’t come back, so I’ll tell you the truth. I killed Reimu and Marisa. Their bodies are just outside of the plot where Chen tried to start her village. Please give them a good burial, but be careful. The place is booby trapped. Use your magical senses to detect them, if you can.”

Her mouth had dropped open in shock. “What are you talk—”

I didn’t hear the rest. I turned and walked into the light. Blinding color washed over me, and I left winter behind.