~Hakurei Shrine~ > Patchouli's Scarlet Library

Songs of the Illusionary Veil

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Achariyth: Southern Cross *** There are traditions to tales like mine. Traditions, that, like the laws of the sea, men avoid to their peril. As this is a sea story, let's begin with the proper invocation. So there I was, no shit, at the Tsukishima pier... *** Thirty years ago, a young aerospace engineer could look forward to a long career in Houston or Florida's Space Coast. These days, everyone says, "Go West, young man." As in so far west, it becomes east once more. With the advent of the commercial space race, every little Micronesian island chain is busy courting space companies to come and build launch sites. Oh, and incidentally, provide numerous jobs for people who have little in the way of natural resources or industry. The companies, such as SpaceX and my own, are just as eager; Micronesia is in a perfect spot for space launches. Why, you ask? Look, pal, this is a sea story, not an aerospace class. Just push the "I Believe" button and let's move on. Anyway, I got swept up in this Micronesian space race not long after leaving the Army. Five years of tax-free pay without anyone shooting at me? Sign me right up! It's satisfying work, but the headhunter forgot a few details in the process. It's boring out here. Look, Tsukishima is a tropical paradise, but not the cute girls in bikinis type. More like the old men escaping the evil ex-wife type. (No wonder I fit in so well.) There really is only so much beer to drink, snorkeling to do, and diving before island fever sets in. Sometimes you just have to get away. Unfortunately, Hawaii, Australia, and Thailand are just too far away. And expensive as well. So, thank God for the boat rentals. For eighty bucks a day, I can take a small boat out into the atoll for a time of peace, quiet, and all the fishing and diving that I might feel the need to do. As I said, so there I was, on the pier of Tsukishima, readying my boat for the day's trip. I wasn't planning on doing anything but taking my boat out to St. Vincent. I'm sure the islanders have their own name for the island, but if you went into the local Rumrunners bar, none of the English-speaking locals would recognize it. Not that I needed the name to anchor off the island and work on my sunburn as well as reading through the local "bestseller". Okay, that's a bit generous. One of my co-workers found some lurid little thriller that took place on Tsukishima. Some little B-movie monster hunter schlock, but whoever wrote it had to have lived on the island. She had gotten too many of the details right. Well, except for the gremlin and the transforming into monsters part. Still, reading it was a rite of passage for people on the island, and it would be a perfect way to kill a lazy morning. My hands moved mechanically through the tasks of seamanship as I dreamed about open seas. "Hey, mister, that's a big boat you've got." There are fewer pleasant ways to awoke from a reverie than the purring of a young woman's voice. I looked up towards the dock. Two girls stood on the causeway One, tall and willowy, rolled her eyes as she carried a small Igloo cooler. Her friend, a petite and dark-haired munchkin, winked at me. Both girls wore light-blue sundresses and wide-brimmed straw hats. Willowy would have made a great fashion model, but by the way her friend moved, I could tell she'd be a handful. Now before you think this tale will take a dark turn towards the territory of Penthouse Letters or late-night Cinemax, let me be perfectly clear. Even though the saucy munchkin purred a seductive game, both of them were boat bunnies. That meant hands off. Boat bunnies were young women that loved sun, sea, and boats. Sure, many of them traded on their looks to get a lift from one island to the next, but not many wanted to get kissed by anything other than the sun. Still, many men picked them up for the pleasure of a young woman's company (and the eye candy). Those few who let their hands wander could ruin the deal for everyone. Boat bunnies fled the islands where those animals lived. That meant no more eye candy, which tended to make everyone really upset. "Where are you ladies heading?" I asked. "Rumrunners," the tall one said. She set her Igloo down to tuck her long pale hair under her hat. I pursed my lips in thought. I wasn't planning on heading out there, but Rumrunners on Matamoros wasn't that far from St. Vincent. And they did make a decent cheeseburger. Jimmy Buffet was right, there's nothing like a cheeseburger in paradise. (He's wrong about Heinz's 57, though.) And it had been a while since I talked to anyone besides engineers. "I'm heading that way. You girls in a hurry?" "If we were, we'd be at the heliport instead," Willowy said. "Hop in," I said, beckoning the girls with a wave. They stepped into the boat with the practiced ease of ladies familiar with the water. Sunlight glinted off of a carrot necklace that the munchkin wore. Willowy shook her head, but her hands quickly untied the mooring line. Planting a foot against the dock, she pushed the boat away from the pier. The girl looked like she had more experience with small craft than I did. I grinned as I stepped behind the wheel. "Ladies, please stow your hats." I shrank back from the frosty glares. "I can't really open up the throttle otherwise" "Mister, we did say that we weren't in a hurry," Carrot Girl said, sitting on the boat's bow. "Suit yourself." I shrugged, nudging the throttle just enough so that the boat leisurely pulled away from the dock and into the open ocean. *** It took a while for the shore of Tsukishima to recede across the horizon, especially at the snail's pace the girls insisted I take. But it was long enough for the three of us to work our way through the usual pleasantries. Willowy's real name was Reisen, and that carrot girl cousin of hers went by Tewi. Both of them claimed to be on summer break from college, but I doubted either of them had graced a campus in over a year. Tsukishima is just too remote for the average boat bunny to just stumble upon by accident. "So, what are you girls doing out here?" I asked, keeping a firm hand on the wheel and the throttle. "An art student friend of ours recommended the atoll," Reisen said. She held her hat firmly against her head. "She wouldn't shut up about it," Tewi growled. She sipped on a box drink. "As if we weren't real women if we hadn't seen the ocean." "There's more to the world than just the sea," I said. For a moment, I was caught up in the mountains of Afghanistan, kicking in doors. "But not many of them are as pleasant." "Are we far enough away?" Reisen said, wincing as she craned her neck towards the vanishing shore. Warning bells went off in my head. It never happened to me, but enough guys in my unit had been out on a pleasant night that turned into a wild ride and a missing wallet right after the girl they were with went all secretive. If either of them tried anything, I'd pitch them over the side and come back in an hour and fish them out. A good long swim far from shore tended to adjust attitudes I glanced back, just to make sure no one was about to do something stupid. Tewi slid off of her perch on the bow and ran to the stern. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she looked back to where we had come. Behind her, the barest edge of Tsukishima peeked out from the horizon. "Should be good enough. Hey, mister, look at Reisen." She pointed towards her friend. Despite myself, I turned around. For the first time since stepping aboard my craft, the ash-haired beauty met my eyes. She had pretty pink eyes like an albino, but no albino that I knew of had eyes that glowed. Reisen stood up and took off her straw hat. I shit you not, two snowy white rabbit ears sprung free. I glanced back on a hunch. Tewi's hat was gone as well. Unlike her cousin, Tewi's bunny ears huddled tight against her raven dark hair like, well, a mini-lop's. I'll be damned. I had two honest to God bunny girls on my boat. Hugh Heffner would be jealous, if he wasn't into the factory-made identical blondes he so loved. And from the way Reisen eyed me with that glowing stare of hers, I would be damned, literally, if I said the wrong thing. "Do we have a problem?" Reisen said. Her tone commanded a level of respect that I hadn't heard since the Army. As she spoke, my thoughts turned fluid, jumbling together like some thick stew. "Not at all. You girls seem nice enough," I said, shaking my head. The confusion cleared from my head as I spoke. Reisen's eyes faded to normal. She sighed as she wrung out one long white ear. "I hate wearing that hat, it wrinkles my ears." I wanted to touch her ears. They seemed like they'd be softer than Angora. However, the First Rule of Boat Bunnies still held sway. "Are those real-" "Call us cosplay enthusiasts," Tewi purred. She flashed a lot of teeth at me in what I hoped was a smile. "Do you really expect me to believe that?" I said, pointing to Reisen. The tall bunny girl's long ears twitched. "Believe, no. Leave it as, yes," Tewi said. "You are going to leave it, yes?" Need to know. Got it. I'm no stranger to secrets. "Suit yourself," I said, with a shrug. *** Fortunately for the bunnies, St. Vincent was one of many small islands around the atoll that was unoccupied. I cut the engine and anchored off the shore. Or what was left of it. Coconut palms and zebra wood shrubs covered the island with dark green leaves, leaving little room for surf and sand. "Hey, Long Ears," Tewi shouted. The short girl in a racing suit teetered on the edge of the boat. "Aren't you going to come in?" Reisen lifted her head just long enough to shake her head. She had traded her sundress for a modest pink bikini and a fluffy beach towel. Both bunny and towel lay sprawled out on the bow, soaking up the sunlight. And, yes, before you ask, cottontails. Both of them. And more lifelike than any "cosplay enthusiast" could buy. "Spoilsport," Tewi said, plunging in the water. I saw a flash of blue and green among the crystal blue water and she surfaced, spitting water. "It takes forever to get that algae smell out of my ears," Reisen said, wrinkling her nose. "Have fun among the sharks." "I can't help it if they like me," Tewi said, treading water. She looked up at me. "Don't tell me that I'm swimming alone." What can you say to an invitation like that? Stopping just long enough to grab a mask and snorkel, I dove over the side. *** The smooth sea held from St. Vincent to Rumrunners. That let me open wide the throttles, and the small boat, a clunker by most standards, sliced across the water like the flying fish that leaped from our wake. Occasionally, a small wave launched the bow into the air. Cheery giggles and salt spray greeted its inevitable return to the sea. But even with taking the long way across the lagoon, the U-shaped island of Matamoros and its unwelcome marina grew ever closer. Tewi tapped my hand and shook her head. I backed off the throttle, almost bringing the boat to a stop. Immediately, the straw hats and sundress came out. Reisen slicked her long ears back until they hung behind her like long white ribbons from a bow. Tewi just set her hat at a rakish angle and smiled. "You know what they say about all good things," she said, smoothing her skirts underneath her before she sat. "You sure that you don't want another trip around the island?" I asked. Even with the sprawling Rumrunners bar and resort taking up a third of the island, Matamoros still had some of the best beaches in the atoll. Some days I wished that my company had built its facilities here, but I was well aware of the dangers in keeping large numbers of engineers anywhere near polite society. "If we weren't meeting friends," Reisen said wistfully, eyeing the golden brown sandy shores. "College friends?" "More like the dorm mom," Tewi said, laughing. Reisen flashed her cousin a glare so cutting that it could have sliced diamond. "Oh, lighten up, Long Ears. At least I didn't call her, 'Grandma.'" "Don't let her hear you say that." Reisen's eyes grew widen as she huddled against the railing and shuddered. "One of our friends went prematurely white. Reisen found out the hard way just how sensitive she can be about that," Tewi said, pulling out another box drink from the cooler at her feet. "She put the Evil Eye on you?" I said, working the wheel so that that boat steered to the right side of the traffic buoys. "Worse. She said that if I continued to tease her, my hair would go white as well," Reisen muttered. I bit back a chuckle. Reisen's fur was pure white, even if her hair wasn't. Looks like my two guests are as much young women as they were rabbits. Then again, I did remember a twenty-something version of myself agonizing over each stray hair in the sink. The waves lapped against the bow as the craft crept closer to the marina. Peace, however, were nowhere to be found. Tewi climbed her way back and forth across the boat, looking out towards the horizon. Reisen had to pull her back over the railing once, before her cousin disappeared into the water. We circled around to fish Tewi's hat out of the drink. At least she had the good grace to look abashed while Reisen scolded her. Both of their spirits quickly returned, and the last mile to the dock was full of laughter. Some of it was even my own. It was with regret that I pulled back sharply on the throttle. The engines surged in reverse and then cut out, leaving the boat motionless just inches from the Rumrunners pier. The waves finished the job, nudging the boat against the pier so that my two assistants could tie the craft securely to the dock. I checked their work before stepping onto the floating concrete rig. "I'll be out this way for a while. If you see me, don't feel shy about asking for a ride," I said, holding out my hand. A mere pleasantry; most boat bunnies kept on the move. "Thank you," Reisen said graciously, holding my hand as she stepped out of the boat. She knelt down and took the cooler from Tewi. "I'd like that." Once more, I offered my hand. Tewi pulled herself out of the boat and onto her toes. For the briefest of instants, her lips brushed my cheek. "For luck," she said catching my eyes. I watched them walk down the pier towards Matamoros island, trading the occasional wave. After the bunny girls disappeared from sight, I settled my dock and fuel fee and walked towards Rumrunners in search of a cheeseburger in paradise. Some proprieties have to be observed. Even if it meant listening to that damn song again. *** It's been five weeks, and I find myself once again sipping a Jack and Coke out here at Rumrunners. Maybe I'll see them again, but they're most likely halfway to Kwajalein by now. Boat bunnies aren't known for staying in one place, and I guess that'd be doubly so for those two. All I have left from that day is a kiss and a promise of good luck, along with a bundle of fading pleasant memories. It wouldn't be the first time I'd gone sentimental over a kiss. Then again, something inside is still telling me that my luck's about to change... *** Author's Notes: Thanks to Captain Vulcan for giving this a look prior to posting.

Achariyth: The Country Doctor *** Nobody knows the trouble I've seen. I've sent my wife away; as long as the mountain goddesses smile upon her, she should be safe. I've kept this secret even from her. Now that my life is forfeit, I find that I must write it down. She is coming for me; I know it in my bones. Those red-eyed stares stole what little joy that I could find from my wayward daughter's wedding to the half-breed shopkeeper. She passed by me in the reception line, taking deliberate care to catch my eye. Her red eyes flashed, and I saw the moment of my death down to the silk chord and the shattered glass bottle my daughter will find by my body. We all thought she was perfect, even those of us who hated her kind. I know I did, now I can't remember why. A year ago, sickness swept through the village. They called it the bird flu, but even tengu medicine could not help its victims. My wife caught it first, and my daughter, may the devils take her, only deigned to leave her forest when her own mother could no longer sit up in bed. Then I caught the fever as well. Not willing to risk my daughter's concoctions, I slipped out the door to ask the country doctor what was wrong with me. This was before the rabbit doctor lost her sick friend. A rare affliction, she called it. She said that she was doing all she could do. We believed it; not even her boss, the moon doctor, could bring the little bunny back from Death's door. Some call death the ultimate healing, but the white rabbit's release was still weeks away when I walked up to the country doctor's office. I pushed open the door into an empty waiting room and settled on a couch. No assistant sat at the desk; that bunny was withering away at Eternity Manor. I rang the bell, but no one came out from behind the curtain to greet me. Time crept by, stoking the fire in my veins. Wobbling to my feet, I staggered to the water jug and slaked my thirst, but not my pain. In a haze, I slipped past the curtain that separated the clinic from the waiting room. She kept her remedies in a closet near the entrance. I'd seen her go in it before. Like the rest of the village, my wife and I relied on her to tend our wounds, aches, and illnesses. At this point, I'd have settled for sake, but more potent medicines were closer. The remedies were separated in labeled bins. Feversbane was easy to find, right next to an unmarked bottle. Still hoping for sake, I uncorked it. A familiar acrid bitterness met my nose. I immediately set the glass aside. My wife used something similar to control the rats that plagued our shop. I turned around and saw two shadows entwined in the room in front of me. A ghostly mist surrounded them while they made eyes and their hands roamed free. A gasp later and red eyes followed me as I hurried out of the office, leaving the bunny doctor and her blushing mistress to their shame. Now you know the trouble I've seen. I've passed her many times in the village since then, and I can never bring myself to meet her eyes. Maybe if I had, I might have had more warning. The land loves rumor, and many surrounded the rabbit doctor as her friend died. Some said that there was another woman. How could they not, when the ghostly girl clung to her side? I never breathed a word of that day, but she wouldn't believe me that the tales didn't start with me. So now I sit alone in my parlor, choking down my bitter drink as I write these words. I'm waiting for the red eyes that will be the last thing I will ever see. The door slams against the wall. Red eyes peer from the stalking shadows, petrifying me as chills run through my body. The bottle slips out of frozen fingers and shatters against the floor. I can only hope that my daughter will avenge me. *** Author's note: Inspired by Bruce Hornsby's song, "The Country Doctor". Thanks to WillieGR and Captain Vulcan for prereading.

Achariyth: Kiss of the Spider Woman *** Her tea had that pleasant copper tang she craved, although only that cocky vampire waif in that impossible mansion would agree with Yamame Kurodani's taste. Her human form didn't eliminate the spideress's thirst for blood, just diluted it. She could appreciate the rice and vegetables common throughout the Village, but the needs of her spider nature eventually won out. A cup of her special blend with every meal sated her thirst. Doubly so, if Yamame could suck it down through a straw, just like the gods intended. It kept the humans' spears away. Yamame loved a good fight more than that Kirisame witch. But when the humans brought out the spears, they were no longer interested in a good fight, just slaughter. Other beings accepted their place in the food chain, but only humans insisted that it didn't apply to them. And they made convincing arguments with a multitude of sharp points. She placed her teacup down on a carved rock table. It had come as a shock to her that the surface peoples didn't like her. It was personal, fiercer than the general mistrust aimed at her people. At first, she didn't understand why. Yamame was just as outgoing and spirited as any of the darlings on the surface. Like them, she had a host of suitors waiting for the first sign that she might be willing to marry. But they didn't have her power. Even among civilized folks, the gift to tell whether that animal the village was about to dine on was just sickly or going to make everyone sick was highly sought after. If Yamame's ability had only been limited to such, the surface people would have likely overlooked her...oddities. Maybe her people could have lived freely on the surface, instead of sneaking out at night to do the odd construction job. But her gift had proven to be broader than food inspection. The door to the rock cell opened. Yamame winced as reflected sunlight stung her eyes. Her native form was nowhere near as sensitive to minor changes in brightness. "Miss Kurodani?" A young spiderling still too young to wear the brown dress of an adult poked her blonde head into the cell. "You have a visitor." "Send them in," Yamame said. She pulled herself out of her comfortable web-backed chair. The spiderling paled and stammered. "She's on the surface." "A human?" The spideress raised an eyebrow. The spiderling nodded vigorously. Yamame rolled her eyes and whispered to herself, "Not another one." "I'm afraid so." "Didn't you shoo her away?" The spiderling turned white and stammered. Yamame rolled her eyes and slurped down the last of her tea. She hadn't asked the spiderling to duel Reimu. "Just take me to our guest." *** For once, it wasn't a village girl that loitered in front of the sinkhole that served as the mouth to earth spider dens. Yamame hated dealing with the steady trickle of jilted lovers seeking the "Kiss of the Spider Woman" for rivals and cheating cads. Part of her was disgusted that they thought such vile plagues were her kisses. After all, she was acclaimed as one of the best kissers in the Underground. But Yamame couldn't send them home with so much as an itch. Her people had been driven underground for less. It was better to make them wait until impatience and the cares of life drove them away. However, the well-dressed woman with the scarlet-fringed shawl waited patiently among the chaparral brush that lined the sinkhole. Her eyes followed Yamame as the spideress skittered along a network of hidden nooks and spyholes hidden inside the mouth of the sinkhole. Not even the tengu with their keen eyes and sharp noses could find a spider in that earthwork maze. Yamame chewed on her lip and reached out with her power. Her eyes grew wide. The woman outside was free from all infections, even the symbiotic ones that aided in digestion, unlike every other beast, youkai, or human. Yamame settled in her tight bolt hole hewn out of polished rock and glanced over her shoulder. Spiderlings and guards filled every spyhole behind her. Eyes, compound and human, flickered between her and the scarlet-shawled woman, watching, waiting, weighing. Bowing her head, Yamame asked Grandmother Spider, creator of the world, for Her blessing and wisdom. A serene peace that matched the visitor's poise filled the spideress, and Yamame stepped out to face her visitor. The serene woman pressed both hands against her heart and bowed. "Pax tecum." Peace be to you. "Are you the Pale Horse of the Spider clans?" "I am a spider." Yamame's lips turned in a childish moue. "I am Iku Nagae, servant of Heaven, emissary of the Dragon Palace, and chatelaine for the Hinanawi clan. Please don't be afraid." "I'm not afraid, although I might be insulted. What's a Pale Horse?" "'And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.'" "I'm not a shinigami." Yamame crossed her arms and palmed a spellcard. "Yep, pretty sure I'm offended." Iku bowed again, her shawl rippling in the breeze. "I prefer the poetic whenever possible. It lends a gravitas that Pestilence and Plague Bearer lack." Yamame winced as each title as though she had been slapped. "What do the honored clouds want of me?" Iku froze and stared at Yamame. The spideress sighed. "I mean Heaven. My people believe that the honored dead become clouds." The heavenly messenger cleared her throat. "I should spend more time among the beasts and the fishes than among humans. Please relax; I'm here for personal reasons." "You could have fooled me with all those titles." "It's a habit picked up from the humans." Iku shook her head and wrapped her shawl tight around her shoulders. "I never understood why the Pancreator made such troublesome folk." "Grandmother Spider is prone to whimsy." A ghost of a smile flashed across Yamame's lips. "Mine, however, has just about run out." She turned her back on Iku. A score of spiders ducked into their holes. "I can give your people the sky again." Yamame's breath caught in her throat. Eyes wide, she spun around. "How? Driving us underground was practically the only time humans and youkai agreed on anything." Back in times ancient to humans but still in the living memory of the earth spider clans, Yamame's people had been indiscriminate on what they preyed on until their name grew synonymous with every highwayman and bandit that waylaid people throughout Japan. The Emishi had joined with the tengu and a confederation of youkai tribes and drove the spiders into hiding. It had been cold comfort when Grandmother Spider had allowed Heian samurai led by the Fujiwara to mete out justice in kind upon her children's oppressors, since the misunderstanding at Rendai field soon after had dashed the spiders' hopes of living once more under the open sky. Yamame hoped that when Grandmother Spider next wove on the Web of Life, her people would enjoy the sky once more. "You'd be surprised what a word in the right shrinemaiden's ear can do." Iku's voice boomed throughout the sinkhole. Her shawl billowed in the breeze, unfurling behind her like scarlet wings. "I wouldn't trust in Reimu's goodwill," Yamame muttered. She massaged her shoulder. The quick smiting shrinemaiden hadn't needed to attack her the day that Okuu had gone mad with power; Yamame had only asked Reimu to join in the Underground's feast, not be it. Iku hid her laughter behind a span of scarlet fringe. "I was thinking of Sanae, actually. Her ear is inclined towards the heavens instead of money. But before we can appeal to the Moriya priestess's goodwill, I need yours." Yamame cast a look over her shoulder. One blonde spiderling was slow in diving into her hole. "You've got to convince me, not them." The heavenly emissary's poise never wavered. "'Be as wise as serpents and innocent as doves.'" "What do you want, Madame Sea Serpent?" For once, Iku's placid mask cracked. "I fear that the Eldest Daughter of the Hinanawi has once again proven to be indiscreet." "I was wondering who had leveled the Hakurei Shrine yet again." Yamame tapped a finger against her lips and smiled. Iku bowed her head and stepped closer. "It is worse than that." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The Eldest Daughter's confidence exceeds her common sense. Why else would she spar with an oni? Now that oni has taken residence in the Eldest Daughter's heavenly manor. Do you have any idea what revelries that demon inflicts on the serene peace of the Dragon Palace?" "Yes." Yamame's smile widened and she fiddled with one of the metal buttons that lined the front of her jumper. Her eyes grew distant as she remembered dancing to the thunder of the taiko drums, showered in sake and kisses. She shook her head and fixed a wan smile to her lips. Iku was still talking. "?holly, salt, silver, even soya. We tried it all. But the oni just laughs each away." Iku's shoulders slumped. "And Lord Nai is about to return." Iku paled and, for a moment, only the rippling of her scarf in the wind could be heard. Yamame cleared her throat. "Shouldn't you be talking to a shrinemaiden?" Iku shook her head. "The matter requires subtlety to remain a secret from Lord Nai." Yamame bit back a sigh. No matter who tried to buy her cooperation, they always danced around their requests. "What's the job?" "The oni has returned to Gensokyo to pack her belongings before she moves in for good. I need a month to strengthen the defenses of the Dragon Palace in secret to repel her." "I don't fight oni." "I'm sure a skilled Pale Horse like yourself could keep an oni bedridden for months. Perhaps with influenza. Cowpox?" Yamame shook her head. She knew this trick. If she considered the challenge, even for a moment, she would be suckered into the job. "My people have treaties with the oni bands under the mountain. Grandmother Spider doesn't look kindly upon oathbreakers. The oni would finish the job the Emishi started." "Your people will be protected." "By who? You're asking me to do what you can't." "For the sake of your people." Iku's voice projected across the field. "Think of the sun and the sky." "My people will live underneath the honored clouds again." Yamame turned so that her voice carried throughout the sinkhole that led to her home. "But we will do so by Grandmother Spider's blessing and our own efforts, not through fox tricks and tanuki treachery." Iku opened her mouth to speak, but froze. She cocked her head, as if listening to a faraway voice. The envoy bowed low, debasing herself beyond a mere supplicant. "I will leave you to work out your people's salvation." She stood up. A paper charm similar to the good luck charms of the Tanabata festival dangled from her fingers. "If you change your mind, tie this to the fairy shrine in the forest. Your reward will not change." Yamame swiped the charm from Iku's hand. "May the blessings of Grandmother Spider be with you." "May you find peace as well." Iku's shawl billowed behind her. The wind caught it like a sail. One heartbeat later, Yamame stood alone. "That was stranger than expected." The charm hung from her hand and twirled. Yamame held it up in front of her eyes. A single eel-like character from an unknown script decorated the charm. Whoever inked it had a graceful touch with the calligraphy brush finer than even Reimu's florid hand. She watched the paper spin in the sun until a spiderling's quieted cry fixed her attention beyond the heavenly charm. Two lines of earth spiders crowded the entrance of their underground home. Burly construction spiders stood with their arms around their wives while spiderlings clung to their parents. Yamame quailed under her people's thin-lipped stares. For the first time in her life, she felt like a fly caught in a web. *** Three weeks later, under the light of the noonday sun, Yamame led a pair of spiderlings by hand through the human village's main street.

Achariyth: At Ten Paces In the morning's misty calm, before the Hakurei Shrine's torii gate, Alice Margatroid unlatched a flat leather case and presented a quartet of dueling pistols to her friends. Her lace filigreed hand brushed across a polished wooden stock. "Nitori made these over the weekend. They should work with any of your spellcards." She pulled a yellow pamphlet from the case's lid. "Are you still resolved to answer this challenge?" "I've been looking forward to knocking Wonder Girl on her butt for weeks," Reimu Hakurei said. For once, the shrinemaiden had left the robes of her office at the shrine. Instead, she wore a scarlet rifleman's jacket studded with silver and a pair of black breeches. Alice had insisted that everyone involved dressed the part. "Please remind your principal to remain respectful at all times." Suwako Moriya bowed to Marisa Kirisame. The Emishi goddess had traded her dress for an archer's traditional kimono, hakama, and headband, all in purple. Marisa tipped her witch's hat and spun about, her black duster coat twirling behind her. Before she could speak, Reimu held up a hand. "I heard. I just don't see why we have to do everything in this roundabout manner." "It's all part of the game." Sanae Kochiya fiddled with the shoulders of her green tabard. She had chosen a musketeer's costume, complete with a wide brimmed cavalier's cap, a peacock's feather, a sky-blue cloak, and a snake and frog emblem on her tabard. Suwako placed a finger on her priestess's lips. "The rules apply to you as well." "You're the one who said she was bored with spellcard duels," Reimu muttered. Alice slammed the case shut. "If you won't take this seriously, I'm afraid we shall adjourn." Her white hoop dress and parasol lent the young woman an air of authority beyond her years. Marisa leaned over towards Reimu. "That means she's going to take her toys and go home." Suwako flourished a deck of spellcards into a fan. "I hope I didn't get dressed up for nothing." "Are you resolved to settle your differences according to the rules of this book?" Alice held up the yellow pamphlet. "Yes," the principals and seconds groaned in unison. "Very well, we shall settle this affront at ten paces." Alice pursed her lips and opened the leather case. "Did we ever decide what the affront was?" Reimu rolled her eyes. Taking Marisa's hat in her hand, she whispered into her second's ear. Marisa flounced and snatched back her hat. "My principal says that her opponent's presence is sufficient cause for the duel." "Just because you two fight like sisters isn't reason enough," Alice snapped. "Pick something more glamorous, more romantic. Can't you at least fight over the same man?" "As if last year's flower could compete with me," Sanae said through Suwako. "Bold words for a girl hiding underneath her grandmother's bedsheets," Marisa relayed. Reimu stood with her arms crossed, smiling as she eyed the brace of dueling pistols. Sanae strode towards Reimu, but Suwako's arm barred her way. "Mistress Kirisame, I propose that we no longer allow our principals to riot each other's passions prior to this solemn occasion." The goddess's voice grew regal and she dipped into a deep curtsy. Despite her best efforts, a smile spread across Suwako's lips. "It shall be as you say, Lady Moriya." Marisa returned the curtsy, an awkward gesture for one dressed as a Puritan witch hunter. Unlike her counterpart, she made no effort to hide her amusement. Alice stared at Marisa, her mouth agape. Gensokyo's most notoriously boisterous hoyden had actually acted like a proper lady for once. She looked to the sky to see if the morning sun had risen in the West. But the slender fingers that drifted towards her case shattered Alice's wonder. Her hand lashed out, slapping away Marisa's hand. "Stop that. You'll get your turn after this." Her hand darted out again. Suwako pulled hers away. Sighing, the pretty dollmaker pressed a glowing spellcard against the felt-lined compartment in her hand. A dour Hourai doll appeared and propped a steel-tipped lance against her shoulder. She surveyed the assembled group, giving special attention and enmity to Marisa. "No fair, Alice. You made everyone dress up except for Hourai." Marisa returned Hourai's scowl. Alice rolled her eyes and opened the pamphlet. "Before we begin, let us review The Rules?" The puppeteer started down the list of Mother May I's and By Your Leave's that only postponed the shrinemaidens' showdown. By the seventh Rule, the participants' eyes glazed over. At the fifteenth, even Hourai's head had drooped. Finally, Alice closed the pamphlet. "Are there any questions?" Sanae raised a hand. "How long until you stand at the edge of my field of vision and drop your handkerchief?" "For once, I agree with her." Reimu massaged her temples. "Fine!" Alice snapped. She tapped two fingers against the snoring Hourai doll and retrieved her as a spellcard. "From this moment, the two of you are under your seconds' charge. They are required to use any means necessary to compel obedience, or both you and your seconds will face my chastisement." The puppeteer held up a kappa-made camera phone. A single white feather dangled from its chain. "You can speak plainly, you know." Suwako shielded her eyes with a hand. "Are we going to start, or will I need to send Sanae to fetch my hat" "Fine. Screw up and tomorrow's Spirit News will name you as a coward." Alice's face turned red as she stamped her feet and shouted. "Stop ruining my fun. It's not like my spellcards even work with these things." Marisa eyed the pistols. "Don't worry. I'll give you a couple of mine." Alice coughed into her hand. "Well, Nitori said to remind you that these are magical devices. Don't expect recoil." She thrust the case into Sanae's hands. "Miss Kirisame, a spell card please." With deft hands, the puppeteer slid a brass ramrod out from beneath the pistol's barrel. "I said borrow, not ruin!" Marisa reached for the balled spellcard in Alice's hand. The puppeteer rammed the wadded card into the pistol and replaced the rod. Spinning the device in her had until she held it by the barrel, Alice slapped the wooden grip into Marisa's hand. "There you go, one single shot. Keep it pointed at the ground until you have cause to use it." "And then what?" "Don't miss." Alice slid a ramrod free from another pistol. Suwako held onto that one and the third, intended for Sanae. After Marisa grasped hold of the final device, Alice took the case from Sanae and set it down at her feet. "Now, if you would stand your principals back to back. Upon my word, you shall both advance five paces. Now, advance!" Sanae counted to five and stopped quivering as she waited for the next command. Suwako stepped in front of her and smiled. If was a comfort to have her grandmother present. The wise earth goddess always knew the right words to calm Sanae. "Try to spook Reimu into firing early. I want a shot at her too." Suwako handed Sanae the pistol and patted her priestess on the shoulder. Sanae laughed and squared her shoulders. The pistol felt right in her hand. She could grow used to this manner of dueling. "Arm!" Alice bellowed. It took her free hand to pull the hammer back, and not her thumb, unlike in the movies Sanae had watched. Suwako stepped three paces to Sanae's side and leveled her pistol toward Reimu. "Turn!" Sanae pivoted around, her long cloak trailing a wide circle behind her. She locked eyes with Reimu. Neither girl blinked, but, like horses just before a race, they strained against the need to stay still, waiting for the word that would release them. "Present!" She raised her pistol and turned her body until she peered down her shoulder, along her arm, and down the barrel, a mirror of her opponent's actions. Despite herself, Sanae scowled at Reimu's narrower profile. For once, the shrinemaiden held the advantage. The world narrowed until Sanae's pistol and Reimu all but filled her sight. At the fuzzy edges, a figure in white raised her hand. Sanae's breath hissed from between her lips. The white handkerchief floated out of Alice's hand. Hammers fell, spraying sparks as flint met steel. Storm walls of danmaku surged toward the shrine maidens, obscuring the dueling grounds in a tempest of magic, fire, and shot. The last ripples of danmaku streaked past, and as quick as the field roiled into a magical inferno, it subsided. Sanae groaned and lowered her spent pistol. Reimu still stood, without a streak of white bleaching her scarlet jacket. The danmaku had passed her by, just as it did Sanae, who had not felt its astringent sting. The matter between the shrinemaidens remained unresolved. Their game must have a winner. Suwako rushed towards her, brushing her hands through every fold of Sanae's cloak and tabard. "Give me yours." Sanae reached for Suwako's pistol. The goddess laughed as she slipped out of the way. "Stand still and stop that. The longer this takes, the longer it'll be until you can go again. Next time, though, aim to the right a bit." She brushed off Sanae's shoulders. "Although there's nothing stopping you two from deciding a winner through more traditional methods. You'll have to wait, though, until Alice has her bit of fun." She spun about and waved a hand high over her head. The Mistress of the Duel beckoned with her hand. Marisa and Suwako met in front of Alice, wide smiles on their faces. "'Our friends have exchanged shots. Are you satisfied, or is there any cause why the contest should be continued?'" Alice read from a small pamphlet in her hand. "I've seen that look in Reimu's eye. She's going to keep going until she wins." Marisa pointed over her shoulder to where her principal stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. "Sanae's blood is up as well." Suwako pursed her lips. "You know, if we don't stop this now, we won't get our turn to play." Marisa thrust out her hand and winked. "Satisfied?" Alice shoved her pamphlet into the witch's hand. "You have to say the lines. That's the entire point of the matter." Marisa rolled her eyes and crowded next to Suwako in front of the rules. The ancient battle goddess traced a finger across the page before stabbing at the appropriate response. "'The point of honor being settled, there can, I conceive, be no objection to a reconciliation, and I propose that our principals meet on middle ground, shake hands, and be friends,'" the two seconds read in unison. Alice plucked the pamphlet away from Marisa. Her voice cut high and clear through the field. "''We have agreed that the present duel shall cease, the honor of each of you is preserved, and you will meet on middle ground, shake hands, and be reconciled.'" "No fair!" Reimu shouted. The shrine maiden rushed towards the Mistress of the Duel. "No one won." She stripped the rules from Alice and searched them. Sanae bounced up to her and clasped Reimu's hands in her own. "See, I told you that we should have been dueling like this all along." The priestess's eyes shimmered and she beamed. Reimu stared down Alice. "I want a rematch." "The matter has been decided." Alice unfurled a paper fan with her free hand and covered her mouth. "Just be glad that I didn't tell you two to kiss and make up." "You can do that?" Reimu tugged her hands free from Sanae's. "I think Alice wants her turn to play." Sanae scooped her cavalier's hat off of Suwako's head. "Otherwise she wouldn't render offense like that. Can you duel two people at once?" "I call first shot, Wonder Girl." "Get in line, you three." Marisa twirled her pistol in her fingers. "The tadpole and I go next. Unless you all want to see up close what a Master Spark looks like through one of these." The duelists spun around as a loud squeal pealed from the treeline. Four doll-like heads poked out from behind an ancient tree. Cirno bolted towards the dueling grounds, with the three Fairies of Light nipping at her heels. "So much for their chores." Reimu shook her head and pointed toward the fairies before pointing towards her shrine. Instead, Star and Luna mobbed Alice, while Sunny pestered Suwako. "You know better than to try to keep a fairy away from anything exciting." Marisa held her two dueling pistols high over her head. Cirno bounced in circles around the witch, straining for the prizes just out of her reach. The ice fairy's wings fluttered and her leaps grew until her fingers brushed against the cold iron. Unlike the sidhe of the West, touching the metal did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. "At least they're not the tengu reporters." Sanae's smile grew strained as Sunny yanked on her cloak. Cirno dropped off of Marisa's arm. "How was that fighting?" She looked up at Reimu with a furled brow. "You just stood still." Reimu cast a pleading glance to Alice. "It's a test of bravery. Only the brave will remain still, and only by standing still will you not get hit." Alice tugged the hem of her dress out of Star's hand. "It's the opposite of a spellcard duel?" Reimu watched as that idea worked its way from one side of the ice fairy's brain to the other. "Don't look at me. It's something that men came up with and Sanae insisted on trying." Her voice dropped into a stage whisper. "I've given up on trying to understand either of them." "So that's why the men of Gensokyo insist that you provide a dowry before any of them will court you." Suwako tapped a finger against her chin and looked into the sky, contemplating a cloud. Sunny took one look at the shrinemaiden's face and ran behind Cirno Reimu's shoulders slumped. "Don't remind me. The aliens make more sense." Cirno's eyes lit up. "So, if it's like a spellcard duel, all I have to do is challenge someone?" Sanae knelt in front of the ice fairy and her friend. "Not quite. There's more rules than a spellcard duel. For instance, you only fight over slights and insults, not for fun. And Alice over there insists that we dress up and speak fancy." Her voice shifted into a rough parody of Mokou's courtier accent. "Do fairies read Heian poetry?" Luna glowered at the priestess and nodded. Cirno held out her hands and concentrated. Water pooled in the air until a reasonable facsimile of Sanae's cavalier hat froze solid, complete with an icy feather plume. Placing the hat on her head at a rakish angle, the ice fairy puffed out her chest and glared at Marisa. "You have offended me..." Her eyes flickered towards Alice and Sanae. Alice hid her smile behind a lace glove and knelt next to the fairy. Cirno nodded as the puppeteer whispered into her ear. "...and I demand satisfaction. Meet me upon the field of battle and die!" "Close enough," Alice muttered. Marisa laughed and held out her smoothbore spellcard pistols towards Reimu. "Miss Hakurei, would you be my second?" *** Author's Notes: Excerpts from The Code of Honor, Or, Rules for the Government of Principals and Seconds in Dueling by John Lyde Wilson are used without permission.

Achariyth: A Book for Her Pillow *** Kosuzu leaned over an ancient scholar's desk and tapped a chalcedony inkstone. Charcoal ripples splashed inside the stone's shallow bowl, threatening to spot the leaves of snowy paper that the bookseller had unwisely sat the polished well upon. Her breath hissing from her throat, Lady Akyuu grabbed her confidant's sleeve. "Careful." The young landgravine, heiress of the Hieda clan, guided Kosuzu away from the trembling inkstone. She pointed towards the paper. "That is a treasure beyond measure." "You do realize that we sell blank journals by the shelf." Kosuzu's eyes narrowed and she swept a hand towards the bookshelves surrounding the desk. "Wait, what have you been reading lately?" "'What do you think we could write on this?'" A smile graced Lady Akyuu's porcelain lips as she paused in her quotation, drawing out the caesura. "'Perhaps we should make it a pillow.'" Huffing, Kosuzu rocked back into her chair. "I knew it. There was no way that you could spend all that time studying. But why Sei Shonagon? She's so frivolous. Lady Murasaki's works are better." She tilted her head and stared at the landgravine. "Did any of your past selves ever meet Lady Murasaki?" Pursing her lips, Lady Akyuu, ninth reincarnation of the Child of Miare, brushed a dark lock of hair over her ear. "Ami passed away before Lady Murasaki came to court." "Pity. I would have loved to have met her, if I were you." In the heart of the village, surrounded by suitors, Lady Mokou Fujiwara huddled in her fiery mink robe and sneezed. Lady Akyuu picked up the inkstone well with both hands and set it upon the desk. "We can fill up the pages with our thoughts." Kosuzu picked up the loose leaves of paper and tamped them into a tidy stack. "You mean poetry." The slight landgravine giggled. "You could use the practice. At one time, a clever turn of phrase and clean brushstrokes were all a girl needed to lure a suitor." Rose crept into Lady Akyuu's cheeks. Ami's amorous adventures in the Heian court flashed vivid in her mind. "I've watched while the boys chase after Komachi. It isn't her poetry that they're looking at." Kosuzu crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Lady Akyuu closed her eyes and sighed. "Well, at least you looked up from your youkai books for once." The bookseller thrust the stack of paper in Lady Akyuu's hands. "Better ghost stories than dusty histories." Lady Akyuu's smile grew strained. Kosuzu was closer than a sister, and occasionally bickered like one. The landgravine hugged the ream of paper again her chest. "I'll use a pen this time, not a brush." The bell at the bookstore's door rang, and Kosuzu vanished into the maze of tall bookshelves. Smiling, Lady Akyuu set the pages on the desk, dipped a brush into the well of the inkstone, and began to write. "'In spring, the dawn - when the slowly paling mountain rim is tinged with red,and wisps of faintly crimson-purple cloud float in the sky.'" Lady Akyuu tapped her brush dry against the inkstone and sighed. Fighting the urge to blot out her lines, she blew the page dry and slid it beneath the stack of paper. She wanted a pillow book of her own, a journal of thoughts and memories, not a transcribed copy of the 291 entries in Sei Shonagon's. Kosuzu's bookstore could print a copy faster. Besides, she had been relying too much on poetic allusions since reading The Pillow Book. Yukari Yakumo, her editor, had mentioned as much, although the enigmatic youkai preferred the grace of Heian verse to the more scholarly Chinese proverbs. But a woman of the Hieda was expected to know her poetry, and the Child of Miare, more so. Before each child of the Hieda clan could read, she was brought before the head of the family. He would read a line from the twenty volumes of the Kokinshu and wait for the child's reply. If she completed the verse, he would read another and another until the child made a single mistake or the twenty volumes were exhausted. Only the reincarnated Child of Miare would be able to recite the poems from a perfect memory of her past lines. But if a chronicler steeped in the classics found a simple journal a challenge? Lady Akyuu stood up and peeked around a bookshelf. Kosuzu chatted with Alice Margatroid by the shop's counter. The blonde magician traded silver for a slender book of sonnets, her cheeks glowing like the sunrise. As the door chimes rang out, Lady Akyuu swooped up the paper on the desk and rushed towards the counter. *** Kosuzu leaned against the checkout counter and tapped a capped pen against the pure white page. She never knew how to start, at least whenever Lady Akyuu wanted to play her word games. The blank page invited her to fill it with the smoke-like glyphs that the youkai used, but her copies lacked the virtue of the texts written by youkai. Besides, her neighbors grew worried whenever they couldn't understand a word that Kosuzu had written. Her pen spinning through her fingers, Kosuzu pursed her lips and looked behind her. Back by the scholar's desk, Lady Akyuu checked a stack of books against a list in her hand. Knowing the landgravine, it was probably a list of lists, just like many of the classics on the table. Kosuzu sighed and turned away, gazing through the storefront window and watching as the people of her village hurried past the bookstore in the course of their day. A young girl ran across the village street and leapt into her father's arms. Kosuzu cooed as the man spun his daughter through the air. The bookseller's pen twirled to a stop, and Kosuzu began to write. 'Things that delight - Fairies singing as they dance circles beneath the blossoming sakura flowers. The crackle and hiss of the phonograph as it spins up a new song. Resting among the daisies with a favorite book in hand, basking in the midsummer warmth alongside the damselflies. The chimes of the storefront bells as they greet my father at the end of his long book-buying trip. The first sip of leftover plum wine from my mother's cup while I'm clearing the dinner table, after she's gone into the kitchen, of course.' A shadow fell over the page. "You do frivolous well." Kosuzu shrieked and threw her body across the page. "It's too late. I've already memorized it." The bookseller looker up. "Oh, it's just you." Lady Akyuu's face became a placid mask. "'Just me?'" A ghost of a smile flashed across her lips. "Well, I don't see what you've written." Kosuzu sat up and smoothed out the front of her shopkeeper's apron. She held out a hand towards her friend. "Hand it over." "It's not ready yet." The landgravine cast a look over her shoulder. "My family is known for their writing. It takes time to craft something worthy of their name." Kosuzu sighed and slid her writing into a nearby drawer. "I'm surprised. With a memory like yours, I'd have just written down something that a past life had overheard." "Then it wouldn't have been mine." Lady Akyuu hid her scarlet cheeks behind flowing sleeves. The pixyish bookseller twirled her pen before flipping it at her friend. As Lady Akyuu caught it with both hands, Kosuzu said, "Just bring something tomorrow. Make it two. A poem for a poem." "So you'll keep writing?" "As long as you do." "That's great." Lady Akyuu smiled and pointed to the ream of paper at Kosuzu's elbow. "One down, two hundred ninety-one to go." Kosuzu groaned, but slid a fresh white sheet onto the counter. *** Author's Note: Akyuu quotes from Meredith McKinney's translation of The Pillow Book, by Sei Shonagon, and used without permission. "A Book for Her Pillow" is set several weeks after All's Fair in Love and Thievery.

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