Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [362]
He tried placing his feet on one of the patterns.
Suddenly Wataru felt an inexplicable joy well up inside his chest. He could hear laughter ringing in his ears. Who is that? What is this? He jumped back, startled, and the laughter faded.
He did it again and the same thing happened. He stepped onto another diagram and suddenly he felt angry. And just like before, the feeling disappeared when he jumped away.
The next pattern made him sad. The fourth made him so happy he wanted to skip.
But the fifth pattern did nothing.
Wataru carefully stepped away from the fifth pattern and folded his arms across his chest.
Joy, anger, sadness, and happiness. One emotion for each pattern.
It’s just like the huts in the Village of the Watchers! Wayfinder Lau had been mad in the Hut of Anger, sad in the Hut of Sorrow, and gentle in the Hut of Kindness—all so his own mood wouldn’t influence how he treated each Traveler who came to him.
Maybe this works something like that. Each pattern has an emotion associated with it. It must be some sort of riddle—but what?
Joy. Wataru stood on the first of the patterns, closed his eyes, and searched his heart. He thought about things that had brought him joy in Vision. Kee Keema loomed in his mind’s eye. He remembered meeting him for the first time in the grasslands the day he left the Village of the Watchers.
“Oy! Ooooy! You there!”
That cheerful voice, and the darbaba cart racing across the grasslands, sending up a trail of dust into the sky.
“Don’t eat too many o’ those baquas now, y’hear?”
How he had been overjoyed when he heard Wataru was a Traveler—his “good luck charm.” He picked Wataru up, tossed him in the air. Now that was joy—without a doubt, the first joy Wataru had experienced since arriving in Vision. He had done nothing but worry about what he’d gotten himself into until that moment.
There was a dull clunk, and the pattern disappeared from beneath his feet. Wataru blinked. At the same time, a sliding noise came from the gate, as though a bolt had been released.
I guess I’ve cleared the first pattern.
The next was anger. He stepped on the pattern, and without even consciously thinking of it, an image came to mind. It was of the two ankha boys who had tricked Meena into helping them steal, then snuck into her hospital room and threatened her. Wataru could feel his skin burn just remembering it. He had dived through the window, forgetting his own safety in order to save her.
Thunk. The pattern disappeared. There was another creaking sound from the door.
Onto the third. Sadness. This was an easy one too. His heart was still bleeding from the wound left by Kutz’s death. She had tried to console him to her last breath. The feel of her gentle hand upon his cheek.
The third pattern disappeared. Wataru moved over to the fourth.
Happiness. This would be a hard one to narrow down. Listening to Meena singing atop the darbaba cart. The feast of the waterkin in Sakawa. All the good food he’d eaten at various lodgings. The conversations he’d had with his friends on the road. All the memories sparkled in his mind.
Then from among them, one memory stood out—the night he saw the performance of the Aeroga Elenora Spectacle Machine in the mountains outside Maquiba. Meena was a lively girl, but on stage she was incredible. Her high-wire tricks made Wataru fidget with fear even as they thrilled him. And he remembered the close of the show, when all the performers threw flowers. He looked at Meena and thought that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He had clapped until his hands were red and raw.
Thinking about it now, all of his happiness and sadness in Vision came from the times he was with his friends.
Thunk. The fourth pattern faded. Another clunk came from the gate, and with a slow groaning noise, it began to open.
I did it!
Wataru thrust his fists into the air. The riddle hadn’t been that hard to solve after all.
But what about the fifth pattern? It was still lying there on the ground.
Wataru tried stepping on the pattern again.