Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [347]
A metropolis of one million people reduced to this in merely half a day. It boggled the mind. None among the survivors were unharmed. Some were in such pain it hurt them even to sit up, so they lay on their backs, blank eyes turned toward the sky and unresponsive to questions. Wataru saw a child consoling another child who was crying.
They couldn’t treat the wounds properly—they didn’t even have medicine. The dragons, too, were covered with injuries. Heads lowered, they rested their wings and closed their eyes.
Dusk was already turning into night. The only source of light came from a slender crescent moon that hung like a thread in the sky. Inside the forest was like the bottom of the sea. All was quiet under a heavy current of sadness that slowed their movements and dulled their thoughts.
The coniferous trees of this northern forest bristled with thick needles, standing close to one another against the cold. The forest was not as colorful or as varied as the forests of the south. Yet now, it seemed that the trees were reaching out their branches as far as they could, covering Wataru and the others from sight. They hid those who had escaped under their boughs, and turned silent faces to the sky as though nothing were out of the ordinary in the space between their roots and canopy.
Now and then, they would hear the sounds of demonkin wings beating through the air above the trees. But these were only sporadic, and the attacks had ceased completely. Wataru wondered whether the demonkin could move at night. Did they even need rest? Or would they blend into the darkness, awaiting the chance to strike?
“Once we’ve rested and regained our strength, we will head back to our island,” the dragons announced to Wataru. “The wyrmking is sure to have sensed the broken seal and will be preparing for war. Some of our kin may be coming this way even now.”
“Regardless,” said another, “we cannot hope to face them with the few we have here.”
Meena and Kee Keema wandered among the injured, talking to them. Meena returned to report that she had found one with some knowledge of the local area. “He says there is a spring nearby, and if we pass through the woods to the west, there will be a rocky hill, where there is a cave large enough to hide us. I wonder if we can’t get everyone to the cave before dawn?”
If they were going to move at all, it was best that they did it now during the lull in attacks. This might even be the only chance for the people in the woods here to survive another day.
“Right,” Kee Keema said. “We’ll take them to the cave, then we’ll return to the Isle of Dragon. Then we need to get back to the south. They need to know as soon as possible, so they can get ready to fight the demonkin.”
Wataru nodded, but inside he worried whether they would be in time. Worse, even if they were in time to warn the south, what could they hope to do? Even if they were to gather all the Highlanders and all the Knights of Stengel in the south, would they be able to stand against the demonkin hordes?
It’s over—the words waited behind his trembling lips. I couldn’t stop Mitsuru from breaking the seal on the Mirror of Eternal Shadow. I failed.
Mitsuru had won. This time, there would be no coming back.
“Excuse me…” a hesitant voice called out. Wataru looked up to see a short elderly man looking at him. His clothes were in tatters, and his hair was half singed off his head.
“What?”
“Your friend over there…” he looked back at a mound of grass a short distance away. Kutz was sleeping in the weeds. “She says she wants to talk to you.”
Wataru put a hand on the tree and managed to stand up. He wobbled, and the old man caught his arm, steadying him.
“Th-thank you.”
“Can you walk?”
Wataru couldn’t begin to count the cuts and bruises he had endured that day. His left ankle throbbed like it was sprained, though he couldn’t remember twisting it.
The old man lowered his voice. “I’m no doctor,