Rosa lifted her chin. Unlike her usual manner, so blunt it bordered on coldness, she really did seem like a girl reunited with a childhood friend.
“Of course I do. I’ll collect every bit of what he owes me.”
“Owes you what?”
“What else? His debt for saving his life.”
Snowden flared up again.
“Even without your help, I wouldn’t have eaten poisoned meat!”
“Oh, of course. You should have starved to death in that cage. Then you wouldn’t be running that noisy mouth of yours, would you?”
The two raised their fists and bickered again. Only when Tahyang approached, introduced himself politely, and asked for directions to Port Square did it end. Before they left, Snowden looked at Rosa and spoke.
“My contract with you is over. Don’t forget.”
“I have a message from Deni. Let’s talk once this urgent business is finished. Wait until then.”
“Deni?”
Snowden looked intensely curious, but Rosa started walking without answering. Standing where he was, Snowden called after her with a mischievous laugh.
“That’s not what it is, you know.”
Luke seized the chance to whisper to the other two again.
“There seems to be quite a deep grudge between them.”
“So it seems.”
Hanbun answered, but he too looked lost in thought.
With Snowden leading, Port Square appeared in no time. At the familiar view, Luke breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, it was a midnight scene with every shop closed. But when they rounded the corner at their usual pace, they saw the Blue Peacock Café standing open as though nothing were amiss.
Drawing closer, they were surprised once more. The café held more people than they had seen anywhere in Ayanad so far. Perhaps because it was always night here, mages seemed indifferent to day and night.
And every one of them wore bizarre clothes. Translucent robes through which their bodies were almost visible, shoulders rising high as though sprouting horns, hair dyed peculiar colors, belts that looked like tightly wound snakes, shoes with heels a handspan high, and gauze garments hung all over with bells. Dressed and adorned like that, they casually drank tea, talked, or read books.
Sometimes what they studied were strange objects rather than books: stone tablets shining like mirrors, intricate toys woven from fine metal strands, bracelets shaped like wrist guards but shimmering in various colors.
Snowden led them to a secluded window seat and stopped before a woman. She wore a relatively ordinary long dress. But on her head was a hat that looked very heavy, as though a fruit seller had emptied an entire handcart onto its brim.
“Hello, Hippolyte.”
The woman called Hippolyte turned her head and smiled.
“So the little young master has come. You’ve brought plenty of friends too.”
“I brought them because they said they had business with you. And before you ask, they aren’t all friends.”
“Oh, really? Then which one is your friend?”
Snowden looked back and unexpectedly pointed at Luke. Since the task before them involved conversation and persuasion, it was not a bad choice in the end, but Rosa looked slightly annoyed. As though that were what he had hoped for, Snowden grinned and nodded. Luke stepped forward and bowed splendidly.
“Greetings, great and beautiful mage. I am a poet called Lucius Quinto. As those beloved of Anir always are, I am poor but brave.”
Hippolyte’s face lit up too.
“Oh, Lucius Quinto? I’ve seen all your plays. There must be a great many people here who love you.”
Then she sprang to her feet and called into the café.
“Look who’s here! It’s Lucius Quinto!”
Mages in peculiar clothes rose in a crowd and looked toward Luke. Then they hurried around the tables toward him. Jostling and making a fuss as each tried to reach him first, they soon formed a long queue centered on the spot where he stood. The old man at its head spoke.
“Poet, I have long loved your inspired words. Please give me your signature.”
Hippolyte cut in and announced,
“What’s this? I was first.”
With an entirely unplanned signing session suddenly underway, Rosa, Tahyang, and Hanbun were pushed toward the back of the table. Hippolyte got her signature first, then turned toward Snowden, unable to hide her delight, and spoke.
“You’ve made an impressive friend, little one. But it looks as though the signing will take a while. What was it you wanted?”
In the end, Rosa had no choice but to explain.
“The truth is…”
Luke was greatly excited by this unexpected turn of events. As a result, it took even longer: he not only signed the various objects the mages offered, but wrote poems on the spot and copied out their favorite passages. Besides, the mages did not leave when the signing was done. They offered every sort of opinion on the works they had seen, broke into debates, asked the poet what he thought, contradicted him, became angry, made peace, and showed no sign of ending. Eventually, Luke grew tired too and glanced toward his companions for help. But the atmosphere over there was no less troubling. He began inching to his feet and waved a hand.
“Just a moment. Excuse me.”
Absorbed in their own debate, the mages paid no attention to Luke’s departure. As he went around to his companions, he heard Hippolyte speaking.
“But as long as we can’t save everyone in the world, there’s nothing we can do.”
Judging by his companions’ expressions, things had gone badly. Tahyang, the first to notice Luke, spoke.
“She says she has the power, but can’t use it for us.”
“Why not?”
“Because those who die in Delphinad belong to the goddess Nui.”
Hippolyte continued.
“I know it sounds like an excuse, but while mages will heal most injuries for one another, they don’t bring back those who stand at death’s door. There may be exceptions for oneself. Or perhaps for a hero who has received an oracle.”
She sounded so apologetic that it was difficult even to argue or plead with her. Then Hanbun spoke.
“I can’t prove he’s a hero. But would someone who has received an oracle qualify?”
Not only Hippolyte, but all the others turned their eyes toward Hanbun. Hippolyte asked,
“He received an oracle? The Shadowhawk? What did it say?”
Hanbun seemed a little conflicted. Only after looking at Rosa, Tahyang, and Luke in turn did he speak, as though he had made up his mind.
“From the Nemi River to Lake Cheonung, one shall be born who will take all the land in his hand. He shall return to the abandoned place and long rule over what was cast away.”
Hippolyte’s eyes widened.
“That is hardly an oracle an ordinary man would receive. It sounds fit for royal blood. Who gave it?”
“The temple of Hazejin in the land of Galdamuri.”
“The place famous for prophecy? And notoriously expensive… I understood they didn’t read fortunes for commoners.”
Hanbun did not answer that. He asked again,
“Can you help us now?”
Hippolyte fell into thought. As she thought, and thought, and thought again, the other mages were still holding their heated debate over Luke’s works. They came around to the conclusion that while Luke was already excellent, his potential demanded that he write an inspired work surpassing all he had done so far, and that they should suspend their judgment until it appeared. Hunched into himself, Luke could only hope they would not rediscover him, seize him by the collar, and shake him while demanding his agreement.
Hippolyte looked around at each person standing before her, then stopped at Snowden. She winked.
“I’ll tell you a way around it. To be honest, I shouldn’t say this, but ask Snowden for help. He isn’t someone who learned to use magic. Though he’s one of us, he’s free of our prohibitions. If one insisted on making the argument. Isn’t that right?”
Caught off guard, Snowden rolled his jade eyes. Rosa turned toward him. Their eyes met. Silence passed.
Tahyang spoke.
“Please. From the heart. He is a friend with whom I would share my own life.”
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