Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [254]
Kee Keema was all ready to get their luggage for the trip, but another of the karulakin stopped him, a dark look upon his face. “Waterkin, and you, kitkin girl. You would do best to not go too close to Lyris. By order of the branch chief, Lyris has been closed off to all traffic, both in and out. You see, they have a problem between the ankha and the non-ankha in that town…”
“We know all about it,” said Wataru, clenching his hands into fists.
“Ah. Then you can guess how word of Halnera has pitched the community into strife. We’ve heard reports of rioting and arson—most directed at the non-ankha, it seems. I’ve heard that many of the other races living in town have been incarcerated.”
“Sounds like Branch Chief Pam’s style, all right,” Wataru said with a grimace. Apparently, Halnera had brought the ugly tension beneath the surface of Lyris out into the open.
“Young Highlander, you may be allowed inside, being an ankha, but your friends…I believe it would be best for you to arrange your rendezvous at a location outside of town.”
At the karulakin’s advice, the three decided upon the Great Marker Tree as their meeting place. The tree was a famous landmark for aerial navigation.
“You’ll have no problem finding it by darbaba, either. And it’s in the woods, so there’ll be plenty of places to hide if there’s any trouble.”
Wataru and the others began to prepare for the trip with great haste. As he packed, Wataru could feel the anxiety in him growing.
I hope Toni Fanlon is weathering the storm in Lyris.
And what about Elza?
Chapter 35
The Tragedy of Lyris
The karulakin that gave Wataru a ride was most cautious. When they arrived at Lyris, he circled briefly before setting him down.
“Did you see those tents down there, young master?”
Still airborne, Wataru had to shout to be heard over the roar of the wind. “The white ones? Yes!”
There were several pentagonal tents below—one particularly large one in the very center—with flags streaming from their pointed roofs. If Wataru’s memory could be counted on, the building nearest to them was none other than the Lyris branch.
“Those are field tents of the Knights of Stengel,” the karulakin told him. “Town hall is flying one of their flags as well. Judging from the size of those tents, that’s more than a patrol. Looks like a whole division is stationed there in town. I’m afraid matters are unfolding on a somewhat larger scale than even we had imagined.”
The karulakin slid through the air and flapped its wings—this time directly over the field tents. Wataru could see Knights standing around in silver polished armor.
“When Branch Chief Pam called for martial law, he must have requested help from the Knights,” said the karulakin, making another pass over the encampment. “Those flags bear the mark of Zaidek Company. If I recall correctly, Captain Zaidek was born here in Lyris. A friend of the chief.”
Wataru felt fear wrapping itself around his heart. “So, those Knights of Stengel down there are working with the branch chief.”
“It is most likely. Look.”
The karulakin flew over Bricklayer Street. Too high to see much detail, Wataru still couldn’t miss the devastation below. Buildings were demolished, and the entire area was scarred by fire. The street itself was empty and devoid of people. Here and there, broken furniture and mounds of clothes lay mixed in with the ash and mud. It was hard to tell the location of Fanlon’s workshop from here. Wataru feared it, too, was little more than a smoldering pile of rubble.
It looked as though something giant and terrible and full of violence had passed down the street. That was exactly it. Something named Hate: formless yet full of strength, it had chewed its way through the buildings and left detritus in its wake—a ravenous child with bad table manners.
And Hate, Wataru thought, is always hungry.
“Looks like there was quite a riot. No wonder the Lyris branch