Chapter Five

We approached the mansion from behind. There was no gate in the wall up ahead. The structures beyond seemed it to point away from us, as if the mansion didn’t want to present this side of itself to newcomers. The front gate must face the land bridge that connected the island to the mainland.

As we walked up, we saw small lights from some of the windows. I guessed youkai were squatting in the mansion; they naturally hide during the daytime. An abandoned place like this would be a haven for wayward fairies.

There was no way over, under, or through the brick wall, so we started walking around. Marisa’s comment about people on the wall unnerved me, so I kept looking above to make sure we were clear. No one was patrolling. The guard towers were all empty. Except for the fairy lights, this placed seemed abandoned as rumored.

The island wasn’t as big as it first looked, but we had a long way to walk around. The shoreline ran too close to the wall at times. In some places, Marisa and I had to edge along with our backs pressed to the bricks, so we didn’t fall down a muddy slope and splash into the lake below.

Around the curve of the wall, we saw the land bridge. We slowed down, knowing the front gate was close.

“Hold ups!” Marisa whisper-hissed back at me. “Someone aheads.”

We stopped, poked our heads past the wall just far enough to see. Before the gate was a tall woman, standing with her hands on her hips. She turned a little to the left, showing us her profile.

“Good lord,” I whispered. “She’s beautiful.”

“No kiddings,” Marisa whispered back. “Look at those boobs! Huges!”

I wanted to thump her on the head, but the woman by the gate was stunning. Her dark green outfit looked like a cross between a gi and a qipao. She wore a beret with a star-shaped emblem on the front, inscribed with a character of the old language. Her hair was red, but not the carrot orange that humans call red. It was the color of ruby. It flowed down her back and framed her face.

No human woman would have this unreal beauty. This woman was youkai, a strong one by the look of her.

“Still goings with diplomacys?” said Marisa.

I didn’t know. I was out of my league here. The youkai woman took our attention back. She snapped into a martial arts stance, holding up both hands, looking ready to kill someone. She swished one arm to the side, as if deflecting an incoming blow, then shot her other fist out in a sharp punch. She repeated the motion with the hands reversed. Each time she moved, she shouted, “Hai!”

She punched the air. “Hai!” She kicked where a grown man’s groin might have been. “Hai!” She pulled her fist up beside her ear, smacking an imaginary attacker behind her. “Hai!”

She lost momentum after a few moves. Her shoulders slumped and her arms hung down. She let out a frustrated noise, Agh!

“This is so boring!” she said. “Why won’t the Mistress let me go fight anyone?”

Marisa and I looked at each other.

The Mistress?

“Looks like diplomacy’s outs,” said Marisa. She pulled a spellcard from her apron, held it up between two fingers. “Plan bees.”

“No!” I hissed at her. “Don’t!”

She didn’t listen. I tried to grab her, but she slipped away. Marisa ran out from the wall, putting herself in plain sight of the youkai woman.

“Heys!” she called, holding up the spellcard.

The youkai turned to face her, again in fighting stance. “Who are you? Intruder!”

“Soon, yeps!” said Marisa. “Love sign: Master Spark!”

Without taking time to charge, the white laser shot out immediately. It was a smaller beam than the spell was capable of, but had enough power to kill most things. I expected that the youkai couldn’t endure the hit... but the spell never hit her.

She dodged it.

Nothing travels faster than light, but the youkai woman had inhuman reflexes, and moved before the spellcard fired. Marisa didn’t have the time to adjust her aim. The youkai ducked to the side, only leaving a few strands of hair to burn in the beam going past her.

She ran to Marisa, moving faster than any living thing had a right to. Marisa realized she missed, moved to hold up her broom in defense. The youkai closed the gap too quickly for Marisa to guard. She knocked her broom aside with one arm, then shot a punch into her belly. Marisa turned away and clamped an arm around her middle, gasping for air. Her face went red. The youkai sent a roundhouse kick into her back, knocking Marisa down to the ground.

Marisa was beat less than twenty seconds after making herself known.

“I should be careful what I wish for,” said the youkai, turning to face me. “She brought a friend. Stay put, human. Move and I’ll take you down too.”

I realized I was holding up my gohei, as if it would do me any good. I didn’t move, too scared to act.

“Who are you?” I said, barely keeping the shivers out of my voice.

“How rude!” said the youkai. “You’re the trespasser. Tell me your name and purpose first.”

“I’m Reimu Hakurei, of the Hakurei Shrine. I’ve come seeking the origin of the mist in the sky.”

“Have you?” she said. “I guess that’s noble, but I didn’t think shrine maidens did that kind of work. Shouldn’t you be home collecting donations?”

“I have my reasons,” I said. “I told you my name. Your turn.”

She gave a stiff bow. “Hong Meiling, door guard of the Scarlet Mansion, servant of Lady Scarlet. You and your friend are now my prisoners. I’ll take you inside where the Mistress will decide what to do with you.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because you’re sitting on another—”

“Love sign!” Marisa yelled. “Master Spark!”

---

I couldn’t believe it. Fundamental to martial arts is situational awareness, and Meiling had none of it. I kept her talking while Marisa pulled out another spell card, and that should have ended the game.

Too bad it didn’t work. What Meiling lacked in prudence, she made up in movement. Even as Marisa spoke the words to her spell, the youkai was twisting around to avoid it. Marisa moved the spell, trying to hit her target, but only seared part of Meiling’s dress.

I wouldn’t get another chance. While Meiling moved to dodge, I yanked one of my three spellcards from my belt. I had no idea what it would do, but I was panicking enough not to care. I held the card out and shouted the spell.

“Spirit sign!” I yelled.

Unlike Marisa, I’m not used to spellcards. I yelled in surprise at the feel of it, Gyaah! Ambient power rushed into me, filled me and overflowed from me. The power coming out swirled into a cohesive shape. Seven spheres, one for each color of the rainbow, formed around my head and shoulders. They ran circles around me like a colorful system of moons. Their centers churned with liquid light. The blue orb looked like water from the ocean depths, and the red orb like molten fire.

I stood, watching the spell around me with my mouth hung open. Meiling wasn’t impressed. She ran at me, ready to put me down hard. I pointed to her, willed the spheres at her.

“Fantasy Orb!” I yelled, and not a moment too soon. Less than a second later, Meiling would have been on me. The spell activated, each colored orb ceasing its orbit, and shot toward her. Yellow was the closest, and she twisted aside to dodge it. The golden ball whizzed past her, skidded along the grass past Marisa, and eventually dropped off into the lake. This was a guided-shot spell, but not a perfect one. If the orbs missed at first, they wouldn’t redirect to try again.

Immediately after the yellow orb, the blue one came at Meiling’s head. She ducked under it, and the orb dipped with her, but only enough to graze her. It knocked off her hat, blue light turning her hair purple before passing by. The red and green orbs came right after, one from each side. She turned her profile to them and sidestepped between them. Her midriff was slim, letting the two orbs skim by her front and back. The red orb seared off part of her blouse, exposing her stomach.

The remaining three orbs followed in a triangle pattern. She couldn’t dodge all three of them. She leapt to the side, trying to get herself out of the way. Two of the orbs flew by, but the third landed a direct hit on her hip. It exploded in a brilliant indigo flash, shredding Meiling’s clothes and flesh. The force of the spell sent her into a lopsided spin, which threw her to the ground.

“Ha!” I shouted, beating the end of my gohei on the grass. “That’s what you get for messing with a miko!”

As I said that, Meiling was recovering. The dress had been torn from her left leg, showing a thigh covered with youkai blood. Even with one lame leg, she got back to her feet. She had to rest all her weight on her right foot, using her left only for balance.

“You’ll… pay for that!” She limped toward me, breathing hard. “I can kill you with a leg gone.”

I held up my gohei. My fear was gone; now I was angry. She hurt my friend and tried to hurt me. I wanted to give it all back with interest.

I closed in on Meiling, ready to give her a good smack. I swung my gohei at her head, but she blocked it with an upraised hand. She grabbed the stick and pulled hard, yanking it from my grasp. She was stronger than I’d expected. With a quick motion, she whipped the gohei around and jammed the butt of it into my chest.

It hurt. Pain shot through to my spine and closed my lungs. I fell to my knees, grasping at my chest and trying to breathe. The gohei gently tapped against the side of my head. I looked up, saw Meiling sneering down at me.

“You’re gonna die now,” she said. “No human angers Hong Meiling and lives to tell about it.”

She was angry? My teeth were clenched, and I would have screamed if I had the breath. I couldn’t bear the idea that she might win. She was faster and stronger than me. She would break the gohei over my head, and she would win. It made me want to destroy her a hundred times over.

Then I realized my chance. Meiling had been stupid again. She exposed her weak spot to me: her wounded thigh was right on level with my face. As she pulled up the gohei, about to swing it down and shatter my skull, I pulled the assassin’s knife from my belt. I wasn’t fast enough, but the sight of the knife stopped Meiling.

“That blade,” she said, her eyes wide. “Where did you—”

She let out a piercing shriek. I stabbed the knife into her bleeding leg, pushing it in as far as I could. It went into the meat of her thigh, and stopped when the tip struck something solid. I had cut to the bone.

Meiling dropped the gohei and doubled over, holding her leg and crying out. She fell to her side, fresh youkai blood gushing from the new wound.

“No!” she yelled. “Mistress! Lady Scarlet! Help!”

I backed off and stood, breathing fast, holding the pained spot on my chest.

“Nobody’s saving you.” I pulled another spellcard and held it at her. “Spirit sign: Fantasy Orb!”

Again power flooded into me, poured out in the shape of seven colored spheres. These weren’t as well made as the first batch. They were lop-sided, malformed. The yellow one was shaped like a bean, but I didn’t care, so long as they hurt the arrogant youkai in front of me.

I pointed at Meiling and willed the magic spheres at her. They flew, and they hit. The first hit her in the stomach, its explosion tearing away more of her clothes and skin. It knocked her back, sent her rolling on the grass. The second hit her, and the third. Each pushed and damaged her further. Her body bucked and seized under every hit. The last one pushed her over the edge of the island, dumping her into the lake below.

---

“Wowies,” said Marisa, appearing behind me. “Remind never make you mads.”

I turned to her. She held her broom in one hand, the other hand on her gut.

“Where were you?” I said. “She about killed me!”

“Tried getting good angles for Master Sparks,” she said. “Didn’t wants to blow you away toos.”

“You can’t solve everything with spellcards!” I said.

“Maybe nots,” she said. “Spellcards and a knifes, worked pretty goods this times.”

I stood there, glaring at her, catching my breath. Was she accusing me of being as violent and shortsighted as she was?

“God, whatever.” I picked up my gohei, brushed it off. “Let’s go. I want to meet Lady Scarlet.”

“Waits.” Marisa tugged on my sleeve. “Scarlet’s first servant almosts sent us to heavens. Servants inside mansions maybe strongers. We readies for thats?”

“I didn’t come all this way to turn back!” I yelled. “I’m going in! If you want to chicken out now, then go home by yourself.”

I pulled my sleeve from Marisa’s grip and stomped toward the manor gates. She followed.

---

It was no wonder that the Scarlet Mansion had a door guard; the front gate had no lock. A stone arch, topped with a spire on either side, stood over a pair of large wooden doors with steel studs. There were no chains, no keyhole, nothing to keep a person from pushing the doors apart and walking in.

I pushed my weight against the doors. They opened to a courtyard, giving us a proper view of the Scarlet Mansion. From behind, we saw towers and lofts that made the place look like a small town. Now we saw that all those structures were parts of the same building. A huge, multi-winged residence spread around a cobblestone court. In the center stood a stone well, a bucket hanging over it from a pulley. Beyond the well, on far side of the yard, was the mansion’s main wing.

We stepped into the court and walked towards the well, cautiously. We didn’t know if the cobblestones were booby trapped. Stepping on one might launch spears from the walls, or drop poison bombs from the terraces above, or trigger a bamboo-spiked pit in the ground.

We sprung no traps. The place was still. Even the fairy lights in the windows were now gone. If we hadn’t just fought off a guard, I would have guessed the place was empty.

“Spookys,” said Marisa, barely above a whisper. “Like someone’s gonna jump outs and yell boos.”

I said nothing, but I felt the same way. There was something sitting beside the well at the heart of the yard: a boxy wooden handcart. It had two handle bars and enough cargo room to carry one person, like a poor man’s rickshaw.

I passed by the cart and well, but Marisa stood staring down at it. The color drained from her face.

“Assassins does live heres,” she said. “Walking right into his houses.”

“What?” I said. “You can tell by a dinged-up old cart?”

“His carts,” she said. “Carrys dead bodies in its. Must bring heres, then does who knows whats with thems.”

“You never mentioned the assassin having a cart,” I said. “Just the knife—”

“The knives!” Marisa stepped up to me. “That China-girls you beat ups, recognized the knives before stabbed hers. The assassin lives heres.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” I said.

“Sinking ins, funner to tell scary stories than live thems.”

“Real life sure is horrifying, isn’t it?” I turned my back to her, kept heading across the yard.

Marisa took a deep breath, then jogged to catch up with me. On the far side of the courtyard, facing across to the entrance gate, was the manor’s main entrance. I climbed three steps up to it, lifted a brass knocker and slammed it down.

“Hey!” I yelled at the door. “Lady Scarlet! Get your red butt out here!”

Nothing. My voice echoed through the yard and faded to silence. The windows were empty, and the sky was rapidly darkening. I gripped the big doorknob with both hands and twisted as hard as I could. The knob didn’t turn at all, locked tight.

I pulled in breath. “Lady Scarlet! Come out­—”

“Reimus, stop shoutings! Found somethings.”

Beside the steps that led to the main entrance, Marisa kicked away some dirt from a spot of ground. She revealed a pair of gray cellar doors, painted to blend in with the cobblestones. Marisa knelt down, got her fingers between the planks and pulled one of them up. They opened on stone steps that led down into darkness.

“Look at thats,” said Marisa, straightening her hat. “Left cellar doors opens.”

I hopped off the steps, landed beside her. “Left is the right word. They want us to go in this way. Go down those steps, you’ll be walking into a trap for sure.”

“Probablys. Don’t see lots of choices.”

“We could break in through a window.”

“None’s on ground floors.”

I looked back across the courtyard, and saw that she was right. The windows started no lower than the second floor, and the walls were smooth below them. No way to climb.

“Darn it.” I looked down at the cellar entrance. “It’s not as if we’ve done enough stupid stuff on the way here. Can you light the way for us?”

Marisa smiled. She held up one hand, as if holding a bowl. Liquid energy swirled together an inch above her palm, gathering into a white sphere the size of a coin. She put her hand in front of the bow on her hat, and the ball of light stuck there. It was small, but bright. Milky light filled our corner of the courtyard.

“Good,” I said. “It’s narrow. We have to walk in file. You first, since you have the light.”

One hand on her broom, the other on her hat, Marisa stepped down through the cellar doors. I went in after her, leaving the doors open behind us. I feared nothing from outside. I feared only what might be ahead of us.

---

The booby trap mentality was worse down here. Descending a stone staircase in a claustrophobic tunnel, we would surely step on a switch or trip a wire. Spikes would stab down from the ceiling, or the steps would chomp on our legs like a bear trap.

There were no traps yet, just stairs going down.

“This is too easy,” I said.

“Want it harders?” said Marisa, staying two steps ahead of me.

“Kind of. At least then I wouldn’t be anxious from expecting something to happen.”

“Maybes didn’t know we’re comings. Might walk into Scarlet’s bedrooms, ask her nicelys, please stop redding-up Gensokyos. If any assassins live under your beds, ask stops killing peoples. She says sure, no problems, lives happily ever afters.”

“I doubt it. Getting in so easily can only mean one thing. Scarlet wants to meet us, deal with us in person.”

The farther down we went, the farther we left summer behind. The stone walls were cool to the touch. My warm-weather clothes weren’t keeping heat in. Goosebumps prickled all over me.

“Hit bottoms,” said Marisa.

The stairs ended in a flat stone floor. A short hall ended in a heavy wooden door. It had a lock, but the door hung an inch open.

Marisa put a hand near the door’s knob, but didn’t touch it. “Get your wishes, Reimus. Door is warms.”

“So?” I said.

She looked back at me. “Think about its. What’s behind this doors?”

“I don’t know. A cellar, I’d guess. This far below ground, it’s cool all year. Good for storing food.”

“Exactlys. Should be cold down heres. You wanted traps; here it is.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Can we do something about it?”

“Think sos. This spells done all sloppys. Who made it wasn’t goods or didn’t have much times. Trigger once, and get throughs. Stand backs.”

I moved back to the bottom of the staircase. Marisa held up her broom with one hand, pulled the door open with the other, and stepped back in the same motion. The door opened on empty darkness. I assumed we were looking into a room, but Marisa’s hatlight didn’t show anything inside.

Nothing else happened.

“So far, so goods.” Marisa took her broom in both hands, as if to toss it. “So long, old girls.”

She threw the broom through the door. I wanted to ask why she had done that, but I got an answer immediately. The broom burst into harsh blue and purple light. My eyes were used to the dark, and flash this numbed them. I clamped my eyes shut tight, rubbed the feeling back into them. When I could see again, the broom’s remains were on the stone floor past the door: some ashen bristles and a smoking pike of bamboo.

“Your broom!” I said. “I mean, my broom.”

“Just saved two lives,” said Marisa. “Sprung the trap for us. Way’s clear nows.”

Marisa went through the door, stepping over the broom’s remnants. I followed her, hoping my gohei wouldn’t meet a similar fate.

“So where are we?” I said.

We had stepped into what felt like a larger chamber. I could only guess the place’s size from the difference in air pressure and my voice’s quick echo around us. Marisa’s illuminating spell didn’t reach far enough to show anything but a few feet of stone floor.

“I’ll dump some oil ons.” Marisa held two fingers up to her hatlight. The little ball of energy tripled in size, spreading white luminance for yards in all directions. Tall rows of shelves emerged from the darkness, stacked packages and parcels and jars and bottles. The walls were lined with piled sacks, presumably full of grains.

“Goo-dees,” said Marisa in awe. “Just realized, pretty hungrys. Think we’d finds cakes?”

“I wouldn’t eat anything,” I said. “We don’t know what kind of creatures live here. What they eat might not be good for humans.”

We walked down the center aisle, past shelves and more shelves. Each was stuffed full with food. Rice, flour, beans, bottled fruits and vegetables, other nonperishable things that can be forgotten for months at a time. Towards the end of the cellar, the shelves were different. These weren’t blocky nailed-together shelves like the ones before them, but delicate works of lattice and wicker. Marisa gasped.

“Wines!” she said. “A lot of wines!”

She ran halfway down the shelves and picked out a bottle. I followed her, but only because she had the light.

“So it is,” I glanced at the racks of bottles. “Marisa, this isn’t the time.”

“Oh, and looks.” She got one expensive-looking bottle, held it up by the neck and read the label. “Bunyip berry wines. Bottled in the years—”

“No way.” I yanked the bottle from her. “That’s impossible. The bunyip bush has been extinct in Gensokyo for centuries.”

The bottle’s label did say it was bunyip berry wine. I wouldn’t know if it were true, even if I drank the wine. I had no idea how the berries where supposed to taste.

Marisa tapped a fingernail on the bottle in my hands. “Makes this pretty valuables, rights?”

“That’s an understatement,” I said. “Money couldn’t buy wine like this.”

“Feeling thirsty, Reimus?”

“What? No!” I pushed the bottle back at her. “We’re on business here. Put it back and let’s move on.”

“Surelys.” Marisa took the bottle and moved as if to slide it back in the lattice. Then she turned suddenly, and slammed the bottle against the shelf behind us. The neck broke off, spilling cold wine and shattered glass to the floor.

“Hey!” I yelled. I stepped back, hoping she hadn’t gotten any wine on my clothes. “What do you think….”

My voice left me. Marisa touched the broken bottle to her lips and leaned back, took a hearty swig. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out an ecstatic squeal. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and held the bottle out to me.

“So sweets!” she said. “Have somes!”

I took the bottle, but didn’t drink. The smell was enticing: sweeter than any candy, but wholesome like fresh fruit.

“If I do,” I said, “can we move on?”

“Betchas.”

“All right,” I brought the bottle to my mouth, careful not to cut myself on the sharp edges. I tipped the wine to my lips, and drank.

---

Oh, wow.

Bunyip berry defies words. I felt heartbreaking loss that bunyip berries had disappeared from Gensokyo before I was born. If they were still around, I would be down in the valley once per week to pick a basketful.

Before lowering the bottle, I drank more than miko are politely allowed.

“That’s the spirits!” said Marisa. “Wine’s for chuggings, not sippings.”

I wiped my mouth.

“It’s good.” I said, holding the bottle out to her. “We should really—”

Marisa pushed the wine back at me. “Have mores. Drink your fills!” She turned to the rack and pulled out another bottle. She broke the neck off, spilling some wine darker than the bunyip berry.

“Stop it, Marisa!” I yelled. “This isn’t a good place to get drunk!”

“Let’s hopes mages agrees” Marisa tipped the second bottle up and drank.

“Mage?” I said. “What mage? You’re the only magician here.”

“Don’t think sos. Firelight traps, fine wines, and bet there’s librarys somewhere in heres. We magicians love all that stuffs.”

“Then why do I never see any wine at your place?”

Marisa took another sip. “’Cuz this witches ain’t riches. Both mages rich and poors are sames. Mages living here gotta ways straight from bed to cellars, in case wants to enjoys grape punch and read books by fireplaces.”

It dawned on me. Marisa was stupidly brilliant.

“So you’re hoping that breaking into this mage’s stash will make him come and try to stop us.”

“Yuppers.” Marisa raised her bottle to me, as if making a toast. “Keep going obvious ways, keep running into more traps. But make mage angrys, tip his hand firsts.”

“He won’t come unless he knows we’re drinking his wine. You think he’s watching us somehow.”

“Course’ofs. On his turfs. Probably hears everything we’re sayings. Just make him madders. Bottoms ups.” Marisa drank again.

“We could just break the bottles, rather than drinking them dry.”

“Surely we—hic! ‘Scuse mees. Surely we coulds, but this’ll calm nerves a bit. Don’t like feeling all anxious.”

I looked down at my mostly full bottle. “Well. Drink and be merry, for we die ten minutes from now.” I took a pull of smooth bunyip berry perfection.