Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [129]
Wataru nodded slowly. The whole story sounded vaguely familiar—like maybe something of the sort had happened in his world—but whatever it was, they hadn’t learned it yet in social studies.
“When I came here,” Wataru said, “I was told that Vision was created by the imaginations of people—humans—living in my world. Maybe that’s why events here seem kind of familiar?”
Kee Keema scratched at his upper lip. “What’re hoomans?”
Wataru grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for telling me so much.”
“Right, then, let’s be off,” Kee Keema said with a smile. “The long and the short of it is, stay in the south and you’ll do fine. We know peace, here.”
Chapter 5
Gasara, Merchant Town
Once again they took off, rocking and swaying across the grasslands. By now Wataru had grown used to Turbo’s gait and was able to sit on the wooden seat without the constant risk of falling off. Wataru asked his helpful guide question after question: what was safe to eat, what dangers lurked in the wilds of Vision. Kee Keema was happy to oblige with answers.
After they had gone some distance, Wataru spotted a thick, verdant forest far ahead of them, a hundred times larger than the small wooded oasis they had previously seen. A building like a tower with a triangular roof stood among the trees.
“The town of Gasara,” Kee Keema announced, pointing ahead. “A merchant town. Lots of folks come here: darbaba teamsters like myself, sailship merchants, even starseers on their travels from town to town in search of new knowledge. It’s a lively place, Gasara.”
The air was bone dry here, and the sun was hot. Wataru wiped the sweat off his brow, and squinted as he looked over the town of Gasara. He noticed something glinting to the left of the woods surrounding the town—riders on darbaba, heading out over the grassland.
“Who are they?”
Kee Keema looked out over the grass. “Oh, them? Them’s probably the Knights of Stengel—the ones in charge of keeping the peace here in the United Nations. That’s quite a few of them too. That sparklin’ you see is the sun on their armor. From their direction, I’d say they’re off to fight gimblewolves out in the Fatal Desert.”
Ack! Gimblewolves!
“This Fatal Desert…it’s close?”
“Aye. Turbo here could make the journey to the gorge that leads into the desert in about a day.”
“Why the name?”
“Because it’s big, and it’s surrounded by rocky crags, so you can’t even get a good look at it until you’re right in the thick of it. With no maps of the place, and gimblewolves running amok, many are the fools who wander in never to be seen again. No return, see?”
Wataru remembered his run-in with the gimblewolves, and the hair stood up on his neck. “Wait, why do they have to go kill the gimblewolves? The wolves don’t come out of the desert, do they? Do they attack people?”
“Sometimes. Those corkscrews’ll eat anything, and they never seem to get full. That’s why they come over the rocky crags and attack merchant caravans traveling the road on the other side—huh?” Kee Keema looked curiously at Wataru. “You know about the gimblewolves?”
“Unfortunately,” Wataru answered. He didn’t want to think about it. “I’ve…heard stories.”
“Have you now? Well I’m happy to say stories are as close as I’ve ever gotten to the things meself. I hear they stink something fierce.”
Turbo glided to the left, and the gates to town appeared before them—heavy wooden panels suspended between two thick pillars of stacked brick. Atop one of the pillars sat a man wearing what looked like a straw hat. Kee Keema waved, and the man waved back and shouted something in a loud voice to someone behind the gates.
Turbo approached the gate slowly, stopping a good distance before them. Just then, the gates creaked