Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [132]
“Kee Keema!”
“I don’t think the Goddess would mind, not if I only went a little ways.” Kee Keema hastily added. “I mean, look at you, you’re tiny. The Traveler my uncle met, he was already a young man. He could make the trip on his own. But Wataru, you’re still a boy. How would you make money for your trip? I couldn’t abandon a child and live with myself, no sir. That wouldn’t be good at all.”
Wataru felt warm and fuzzy all over. “I would—I mean, that would make me really happy. But what about your work? You can’t quit, just on my account. That’s not good, either.”
Kee Keema’s eyes glimmered. “True, true. That’s why I’m going to deliver my cargo—then I’ll head back up to Sakawa, see? I’ll talk to the chief. If I go by swift cart, the trip should take me only three to four days. So, I want you to wait here for me. ’Kay?”
“But—you’d do that? For me?”
“Of course! Why, I don’t think the chief would think too kindly on me if I just dropped off everything here and went off on my merry way. He’d be right angry, he would. ‘When did you become such a mean old waterkin?’ he’d ask me.” Kee Keema scratched his head. “The chief, he’s four hundred and twenty years old now, but he’s still strong as an ox. Why, he’s been scolding me since I was a wee one, and has given me more than my fair share of swats on the hindquarters. Wouldn’t do to make him cross with me, no sir.”
Over four hundred years! Wataru’s eyes went wide. Waterkin can live that long?
“So then, I should…”
“You should take me up on my offer!” Kee Keema said clapping his hands and jumping to his feet. “Time’s a-wasting, boy! I’ll be heading out. I’ve paid for a five nights’ stay, so you need not worry about a thing. They’ll feed you here too. When you’ve rested up, take a walk around town. There are lots of folks around here; maybe you can talk to them and get a hint about where you want to go next. Just watch out for the believers of the Old God, like I told you.”
Kee Keema lumbered out, happily humming to himself. Wataru watched after him. I wonder how old he is?
Wataru lay down on the bed and stretched. White plastered walls. A ceiling made of woven reeds. The cool of the air inside the room felt good. Wataru relaxed.
For dinner, a round-faced ankha woman delivered bread, stew, and fruit. She said nothing and did not even look at Wataru. But the food was so delicious it more than made up for the lack of hospitality.
When the sun had completely set, Wataru gazed up at the stars through a small window in his room. It looked as though he could reach out and catch them in his hand. Happy, Wataru walked out of the lodge. At night, the town of Gasara was quiet, the lights sputtering here and there on buildings. From some buildings he assumed were restaurants or bars poured more light, and the sounds of music and people talking. Wataru walked, being careful to note the way he had come, and finding a small rise in the middle of town, he again looked up at the night sky.
Filled with the magic of the night, Wataru eventually returned to the lodge. When he reached the front doorway, someone pushed him hard from behind. A vile stench filled his nose.
“You’re the boy that came in with that waterkin today, aren’t you!”
It was a skinny ankha man; spit flew from his mouth as he talked. He reached out in an attempt to grab Wataru’s chest, but Wataru knocked his hand away.
“What, you want to fight?” The man spat. His breath was foul. From the slight wobble in his motions, Wataru realized he was drunk. The stench must have been the smell of liquor. Maybe alcohol here in Vision is stronger than it is in my world.
“Hanging out with waterkin—you’ve got that damn smell on you,” the man muttered, glaring at Wataru. “Hang out with them too long and you’ll sprout scales and get a forked tongue. You know that?”
Wataru stood up silently, feeling the bile rise in his throat. Then he turned his back on the man.
“What? I give you some friendly advice, and you’re going to ignore me?”
The man