Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [122]
It’s a lizard!
The man driving the carriage pulled by the long-necked cow was a lizard. He stood about six feet tall, and his skin was covered in dun scales. Fishing up one of the fruits from the ground, he wiped it off and began to munch at it noisily. Sharp teeth glinted in his mouth. He looked exactly like one of the monsters in the Saga series—the Lizard-Men—so much so that were he holding a sword, Wataru wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.
“What is it, boy? Something on my face?”
The lizard-man walked over, smiling broadly. Wataru took a step back. The driver tilted his neck and scratched thoughtfully at his cheek with his hooked claws. “Hrm, what’s wrong, scared of something? You sure are a small one, aren’t you? Alone, eh? Your pa around?”
Wataru thought to answer, but his tongue caught in his mouth.
“Where did you come from, little one?” The lizard-man asked kindly, munching one of the red fruits as he spoke. “Wouldn’t expect to see refugees from the Empire out in a backwater like this…you’re an ankha, right? First time meeting a waterkin, is it?”
Wataru swallowed noisily, and managed to say in a strained voice, “Y-yyou’re a waterkin?”
“In the flesh!” the lizard-man replied. As he talked, he gathered up more of the fruit in his big hands and fed them to the long-necked cow. The cattlething made a mooing sound and worked its massive jaw. It seemed happy.
“A-and I’m an…ankha?” Wataru asked, pointing at himself.
“Of course you are. First race made by the Goddess. That’s why you look so much like her. Didn’t they teach you that in school?” the lizard-man said, baring his teeth. That must be a grin, Wataru hoped.
Wataru thought. These “ankha” the lizard-man was talking about must be the name for the race that look like humans in this world. That meant that Wayfinder Lau was an ankha too. So there were other races in Vision.
“Th-that animal…”
“My darbaba? What, first time seeing one of them too? Don’t be frightened, they’re gentle as can be. He loves it when you rub him behind the ears.”
The darbaba was happily munching away, baqua juice dripping from the corner of its mouth, getting an ear-rub from the driver. He adjusted the short leather kilt around his waist, and peered again at Wataru.
“If you’ve not seen a darbaba before, boy, then you must be from the Empire. I hear they don’t use livestock to pull carriages there. Why, once a traveling merchant bought five head off o’ me, said he’d bring ’em up to the city and charge people just to look at ’em. Course I heard he went bankrupt a few months later, but still.”
Wataru wondered about this Empire the lizard-man was talking about. So there’s more than one country in Vision.
“If we’re not in the Empire here,” Wataru began, “where are we? Does this place have a…”
He was going to ask if it had a name, but he stopped halfway. Wataru gaped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
What are these words coming out of my mouth? It’s not Japanese. It’s not even English. I’ve never heard this language before in my life.
Yet he spoke without difficulty and seemed quite fluent. He had no difficulty understanding the lizard-man’s speech, either.
“Somebody must’ve switched my head on me when I wasn’t looking,” Wataru muttered to himself. “I’ve become one of them, one of the people of Vision. Like someone cast a spell on me.”
The darbaba mooed plaintively for more baqua, and the lizard-man obliged with what seemed to be a bemused expression on his face. Although, to be honest, Wataru wasn’t exactly sure what kind of expression was on his face. The lizard-man’s eyes were set on either side of his nose and his mouth was hanging half open. His sharp teeth glistened brightly in the sun.
As Wataru stood frozen, trying to think of something to say, a long tongue slipped out of the lizard-man’s mouth. It looped around in a wide arc and licked the very top of the lizard-man’s head. Wataru stiffened, but, not wanting to appear rude, stopped himself from stepping back.
“Well, this is a surprise,” the lizard-man hissed through large, sharp teeth. “Don’t often