Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [198]
“Interesting construction you have here,” Wataru said from the watchman’s back.
“I suppose it would seem that way to someone who knew nothing of this place,” the watchman said, smiling. “These are built to catch every last drop of rain that falls. We filter it, and filter it again to make our tears.”
“Tears?”
“The purest water in the world. Used for the finest medicines and the most expensive perfumes.”
The mayor’s residence was in the very middle of a cluster of cube-like buildings. To get there, they had to actually open the doors to many of the surrounding houses and walk through them. Each time they went in a door, Wataru expected to be walking into someone’s living room.
“Certain houses are designated for public passage, on account of the town being built this way,” the watchman explained. That explained the lack of significant furniture in the houses they walked through. Still, when they reached the office of the mayor, it too was rather bare—hardly different from the public passage houses they had come through. The only furniture was a simple wooden desk and chair, and a small table.
“Greetings!” said a waterkin with a large red fin sticking out from the top of his head. “I am Mag, the mayor of Tearsheaven.”
As it was clear that the important posts in this town were taken not by ankha but by other species, Wataru felt secure in relating his encounter with the followers of the Old God at Triankha Hospital. He related everything up to his meeting with the woman in black in the swamp. But he did not mention the kind words he had given her, as she had requested.
“A surprising tale, indeed,” Mayor Mag said, knocking himself on the head with large webbed hands. “And you, a Highlander at your young age. Impressive, most impressive. But you must be worried for your friends.”
Continuing, he said, “Head west from here, and just over the border to Bog you will find the town of Sakawa. The waterkin there do more than transport goods, they also trade in information. Ask around, and you’ll be sure to find your missing friends.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll go there as soon as I can.”
“No,” the mayor said, “I think you’d best stay and mend your leg first. We have the best medicines and poultices here, you know. Medicine brewed using our tears is better than any you can buy in other parts.”
Wataru wondered if all mayors were like this: part politician, part salesman.
“Mayor,” said the watchman suddenly, “perhaps I should fetch Yacom’s wife?”
“Wataru here might be a fine Highlander,” said the major, “but he’s still a boy. I would not involve him in this affair.”
“It’s just, not a soul has gone to see that woman since we sent her out. If Wataru were to tell his story…”
“Sent her out?” Wataru asked. “Was she exiled from the village for some reason?” He remembered her saying that she used to be a resident of Tearsheaven.
The mayor hung his head sorrowfully a moment, then said, “Very well, Wataru, I’d like you to come with me. Don’t worry. It’s not far.”
The watchman went back to his post, and the mayor took Wataru by his hand. They passed through one house, and when they opened the next door, the mayor called out in a bright voice, “Morning, ladies, how does the day find you?”
They appeared to be in a hospital. Six simple beds were lined up in a bright, warm room, five of which were occupied. The occupants were all women of different races.
“Ah, Sara—here to see your mother?”
In the nearest bed lay an ankha woman. Her face was pale and she was horribly thin. Watching over her was a girl with dark eyes—young enough to be in kindergarten. The mayor gave the girl a hug. “Sara, you’ve grown into quite the beauty, haven’t you!” he said, rubbing her cheek. “I’d sure like to see you happier though. The sun is up. You should be outside, playing.”
The girl was very cute. Their eyes