Chapter Nine

It was a beautiful spring day.

Hot sunlight beat down on me. The sky above was clear blue. Thick green grass stood all around, and the smell of it. The smell of grass! It had been too long since I knew any smell of summer approaching.

The pillar was hollow, as I suspected. The light flowed in a huge cylinder around me, stretching up to the little blue circle of sky. There was no sun up there, probably because it was elsewhere in the sky, but there was still sunlight. I had a shadow, suggesting it was a few hours after noon.

Feeling warm, moist outdoor air around me for the first time nearly nine months, I wanted to fall to my knees and start crying. One thing kept me from doing just that. In here, the music was louder than ever, and I stood before the source of it.

In the center of this patch of spring, there was a large wooden platform that stood three feet off the ground. On the back edge of the platform was a single wall, which supported no roof. This wall was covered with symmetrical patterns and runes. The whole structure looked similar to the stage in the Scarlet Mansion’s music room, except there was no pipe organ mounted on it.

“What is this, here?”

“Who are you?”

“We have a visitor!”

On the stage stood the musicians. Three girls, all wearing different colors of performer’s uniform. Their faces and builds were enough alike to make them sisters. They stopped playing when they noticed me. The music ceased, but the pillar’s deep humming noise went on around us.

“She’s an intruder, I fear.”

“How did she come through?”

“What should we do with her?”

Each girl had an instrument; one had a violin, and another had a trumpet. The third used a strange thing I didn’t recognize. It had piano keys laid in a black slab of what looked like dark wood. None of the girls actually touched their instruments. All three hovered near their owners, as if the girls could play by thought alone.

“We’ll be in trouble. Only one we permit, and that number is doubled.”

“We must send her away! Throw her in a pit, as fast as we may!”

“We should play her a song. She’ll enjoy it, our first audience for too long.”

I held up a hand. “Please! No music or pit-throwing. I’m here on business. I’m looking for Gensokyo’s lost spring. It seems I’ve stumbled on a bit of it.”

One of the sisters stepped to the front edge of the stage. She was tallest and prettiest of the three. Hers was the violin, and her uniform was black.

“You’ve stumbled on the netherworld portal,” she said. “It allows access not to mortals.”

Another came up to her side, the shortest of the three. Her instrument was the strange not-piano, and her uniform was bright red.

“Just as my eldest sister said: beyond this door is the land of the dead.”

The third came up. She was middle in height. Hers was the trumpet, and her uniform was light pink. She jabbed a finger down at me.

“You’re dirty and you smell! Leave now, or we’ll send you to—”

“Stop!” I shouted over her. “Must you speak in rhyme?”

“No,” said the eldest sister, “but we like to.”

“Who are you to tell us what we can and can’t do?” said the middle sister, stabbing her finger in my direction.

“You’re right. I should introduce myself.” I gave a shallow bow. “My name is Sakuya Izayoi. I am Lady Scar—” My voice caught. “—and I’m here on the authority of no house or master. May I ask your names?”

The eldest sister bowed. “Lunasa Prismriver, the violinist.”

The youngest sister bowed. “Lyrica Prismriver, the keyboardist.”

The middle sister made a gesture I had never seen before. She held up her right fist, only her middle finger extended from it. “I’m Merlin Prismriver, the trumpeter. Don’t you dare forget it, you lousy whore!”

The other two sisters looked at her, both blushing, mortified at their sister’s rudeness. Their embarrassment was wasted, for all I cared.

“Nice to meet you three. Now tell me: does a short, cloaked girl ever come around here? She’s about so tall,” I held a hand up to my side, “carries a sword, odd accent?”

“Oh yes,” said Lunasa. “You must be talking about Youmu.”

“Yo-moo?”

“She’s the gardener of the netherworld,” said Lyrica. “She’s on a special errand here in Gensokyo, and she needs a way to get back and forth between the two. We’ve been asked to guard the portal for her.”

“You’d already know that, if you weren’t such a stupid, butt-licking piece of snot.” Merlin sat down on the stage, hung her legs off the edge. Her trumpet dropped to hover within her reach. She folded her arms and glared at me, as if daring me to throw rude words back at her.

“I see,” I said. “I need to speak with this Youmu. How often does she come around?”

“She should be back soon,” said Lunasa. “She left quite a while ago. Each time she goes, it takes longer for her to return.”

“Her errand becomes more difficult, the more she does it,” said Lyrica.

“Only because she’s a stunted, worthless little runt.” Merlin jabbed her finger down at me again. “Why are you still here? This portal is off-limits, you freakishly tall, stick-legged, overdressed—”

“Speak not ill of her!” shouted a new voice.

The three sisters gasped, and fell silent.

The voice had come from around the side of the stage. A few steps to my left, I saw who had yelled. Sitting on the grass, back against one of the stage’s wooden supports, was a wrinkled old hag of a woman. She was dressed in sooty rags, and her hair hung off her head in thin wisps.

“Excuse me, old lady!” I called.

I limped over to her, but I didn’t kneel down or touch her. The Prismrivers all came over, piled up on the edge of the platform, like children eager to eavesdrop on an adult conversation.

“Speak not to me as one past her time!” the old woman shouted up at me. Her lips curled around her teeth. “My time has arrived not yet, which is my trouble, and all of Gensokyo’s besides.”

I looked down at her for a moment. She reminded me of something, both how she looked and how she spoke.

“Have we met?” I said. “You look familiar.”

“I may, to you,” she said, “if you saw she who currently rules this country, albeit in duress.”

I had to wrap my mind around her words before they made sense. Then I remembered.

“Oh!” I put my hands together, fist in palm. “Are you... Lily White? The spring elemental?”

“Just so, spring-bearer.” She held a hand up to me. Her rags fell away from her arm, showing skin sagging off bone. “Have you come to restore me?”

“Yes, but I’m not a spring-bearer. I don’t have any with me.”

“You do. Those small sparks, which flutter down around Gensokyo, seeking humans to share warmth. The thief takes upon herself the grandest of tasks, stealing the essence of a land so great and rich as this. A task so grand, in fact, that it becomes impossible. Her work is imperfect. She lets spill small drops of spring, which take the form of cherry petals.”

My skin tightened into goosebumps. The magic petals that Reimu, Marisa and I had all touched. One of them had appeared before the gate of the Scarlet Mansion, where China picked it up. Did it appear because I lived there?

“I’ve seen them,” I said. “You say they specifically seek out humans?”

Lily nodded, her head bobbing. It called attention to how thin her neck was.

“Spring is the season closest to humans in nature. You are warm-blooded creatures, defined by love and belonging, or the lack of it. Too cold is winter. Too hot is summer. Moderate is autumn, but a time of life changing to death. Spring is ever humanity’s season, the time of life born from death, the time of birth, growth, and caring.”

“That’s good news. The people in Jinri have probably seen petals of their own. It might help them survive.”

“Yes, but only a postponement. Spring sparks might keep your kin warm, but it feeds them not. My season must be returned. Already Gensokyo teeters on the brink of desolation.”

“Tell me what to do,” I said.

“You must go through the portal.” Lily pointed up to the back wall of the stage. “Pass into the netherworld. There, the thief takes spring and feeds it to an abomination. Kill it, and spring will flood back to this land.”

“Can I do that?” I glanced up to the Prismrivers, still listening to us. “These three said it’s the land of the dead.”

“You may enter while your spirit belongs to its flesh,” said Lily. “This portal was made for just that reason, to allow the thief to pass between the two lands. She is a live human, just as you.”

“Have you tried going in yourself?”

Lily cackled. Kya ha ha! “Heavens, no! I have no power or desire to leave Gensokyo. I dwell only here now, for barely enough spring leaks out to create the patch in which you now stand. You, human, have no innately magical nature. You may pass.”

I looked up to the Prismrivers. “What do you say? Will you let me through?”

Lunasa shook her head. “No, sorry. Only the human bearing the president.”

“Youmu carries the president,” said Lyrica. “So only she is allowed to enter and exit this portal.”

“Though if you asked us real nicely,” said Merlin, “we could stretch your cheeks wide and shove the president up your—”

“Enough!” I yelled. A knife came out of my pocket, and I held it near my ear, ready to throw. “Open the portal, or I’ll kill all three of you.”

“You can’t kill us,” said Lunasa. “We are poltergeists, which are youkai with no physical substance. That’s why you don’t see us carrying our instruments.”

The idea seemed worth trying. I threw the knife. It spun through the air, aimed for Merlin’s belly. My aim was true, but I hit nothing. The knife flew through her as if she were a shadow. It landed in the grass on the far side of the stage.

“You see?” said Merlin, giving me the middle finger again. “If you’d clean the wax of your ears once per century, then you might understand when people talk to you.”

I turned away, let out an angry ung! sound and kicked at the grass. It was soft and moist. My boot tore up a divot of sod. Rain must have fallen here recently.

“Fine then,” I said, turning to face the sisters again. “You said I needed a president to get through. How do I get one?”

As if in answer, I heard a foot fall behind me. A sharp point poked into my back. The Prismrivers all looked at me in shock. Lily put her face in her bony hands.

“I have the president,” said the cloaked woman, standing right behind me.

---

I didn’t move, didn’t turn around to look at her. I could tell by her voice, this was the same who had challenged me that snowy night in Reimu’s courtyard. I played passive for the moment. My shift wouldn’t help in such close quarters.

“Kind of you to show up so soon,” I said. “So you’re Youmu, the spring-thief?”

“I’m no thief!” She poked her sword harder into my back. “I’m working to heal Gensokyo in a way you can’t understand.”

“Surely, the place has never looked better.”

She pushed the sword harder. I winced. If it weren’t for my coat and cloak, she would have drawn blood.

“Be quiet!” she said. “Slowly move your hand to your pocket. Take out your knives and drop them on the ground. Move too suddenly and I’ll cut your spine.”

I did as she said. I made slow, gradual movements and kept my hands where she could see them. I let one knife fall to the grass, followed by a second. They were both copies. I still had two knives in my pocket.

“Good,” said Youmu. “Now take three slow steps forward, and one to the right.”

“My leg is wounded. I’ll have to limp.”

“Thank you for telling me. Move.”

I did so. She followed me, keeping her sword at my back. I couldn’t see behind myself, but I knew she was crouching to pick up the knives. This was a moment of vulnerability for her. She could have only one hand on the sword, and she wasn’t in a good stance to thrust. If I wanted to attack, this was the time.

I didn’t move, not yet.

“You’re disarmed,” she said, standing upright again. “You will remain in this spot until I’ve gone through the portal.”

“Are you coming back?”

“No. There is a little more energy in Gensokyo, but by necessity, my task is finished.”

“So when you go through, the portal’s closed forever?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Youmu sheathed her sword, shiin-klunk. “I go now. Be at ease, for Gensokyo’s spring will soon return.”

“I’m sure it will.”

She stepped past me, headed for the stage. Lily shied away from her, covering her head with her hands. The Prismrivers greeted her.

“Welcome back, bearer of Strangebird!” said Lunasa.

“Will you listen to us play sometime soon?” said Lyrica.

“Hey! You’d better not ignore us, you pipsqueak excuse for a fairy turd!” said Merlin.

Youmu did ignore them. She put one hand on the stage and hopped up onto it, which was an athletic feat for someone of her height. She stepped up to the stage’s back wall. There she stopped and glanced back at me.

“Don’t try to pursue me,” she said. “The lands beyond aren’t for the premortem.”

“I’m just standing here,” I said.

I bothered her. She didn’t trust me to stay put, but she believed there was nothing I could do. That’s exactly what I wanted.

Youmu reached into her cloak, I thought to draw her sword, but she pulled out something else. She held up a small wooden carving of a bird.

“Prismrivers!” she said. “Allow me to pass.”

The three sisters took up their instruments. Not actually touching them, but each one seemed at the ready.

Youmu held the carving up in both hands and yelled, “Vote for Strangebird!”

The wooden bird came alive. It burst from Youmu’s hold, spreading its wings and extending its talons. It flew around the stage once, then came back to perch on Youmu’s shoulder.

The Prismrivers began playing. It was stranger to see up close than hear from afar. The bow moved up and down the strings on the violin, completely by itself. The valves on the trumpet popped up and down, with no fingers on them. The keys on the piano-thing depressed in pattern, with no hands over them.

This music was a different tune than before. The deep humming noise had gone on through all this, but now it was louder. It grew into a rumbling that drowned out the music. In front of Youmu, the stage’s back wall split. A crease ran down its middle, from top to bottom, and the two halves rotated outward.

It wasn’t a wall. It was a door, opening wide.

A bright glare of pink and blue shone out, and Youmu stepped right into it. This was my chance.

I shifted.

---

Everything stopped. The music went silent, as did the rumbling noise. Lily sat beside the stage, frozen while weeping into her hands. The Prismrivers all stood still in their performance poses. Most importantly, Youmu was dead solid. One foot in the portal, one still on the stage. The wooden bird was still perched on her shoulder, but it didn’t move.

“Yes!” I said, shaking a fist. “You fools do not mess with Lady Scarlet’s maid!”

They couldn’t hear me, of course. No time passed for them to hear.

I couldn’t hold shift forever, so I hobbled up to the stage and climbed onto it. This was harder than it should have been, half-lame as I was. I got my center of weight over the platform, then rolled onto it. My head started to pound, and my eyes felt too big their sockets.

I got to my feet and limped across the stage, up to Youmu’s side. The shapeless pink and blue light from beyond the gate soaked over me. Warm spring air blew in, and carried another scent I had missed: cherry trees. The powdery, slightly sweet smell of sakura.

I stood at the portal’s threshold. I let the shift go, partly because I could hold it no longer, but more that I wanted Youmu to see her failure.

Everything animated. Youmu saw me. Her mouth fell open.

“How—”

I stepped into the portal, and out of Gensokyo. There was no ground on the other side, so my feet had nothing to land on. I fell.