The Night Still Owed
Golden sand swirled slowly around Laniakea, and with it a gentle wind carried the light outward until the sight was nothing short of mesmerizing.
A phenomenon he had never seen ought to have put him on his guard. Yet the moment Hyperion understood that all this beauty had begun with Laniakea, he let every defense fall and gave himself over to the vortex of light.
He had just decided the little storm of luminous sand had wrapped the two of them completely when a rough voice spoke from the empty air—deep, and heavy with dignity. At the sound of it Laniakea let out a short laugh.
"Putting on airs again. Can't you show yourself any faster?"
He had half expected her to meet a spirit with equal solemnity. Instead she scolded the owner of that voice the way one scolds the most troublesome child in the world.
A grumble answered out of the empty air, and in the next instant the light drew together into a single place. The moment every gleam became one mass, Hyperion saw a small firefly perched atop the lamp.
"This is..."
"Firefly, the fire spirit. For the record, it lies very well, so don't let it fool you."
"Our first meeting, and already so malicious and narrow an introduction! What is that human meant to think of me?"
"But you did trick me once. That's a fact."
"Ahem."
It cleared its throat and said nothing more, which was as good as admitting she was right.
"Th-that aside, for what cause have you summoned this one? A spirit must not meddle lightly in the human world. There ought to be a proper reason."
Firefly spun in circles above the lamp, steering the talk elsewhere.
"I called you because I was worried about Mole. You saw Mole in the Spirit Realm, didn't you?"
"Ah, I saw. I did. It had spent a great deal of power, so I asked what was the matter, and it told me not to speak to it until it woke. Impudent little fledgling..."
"Little? Please. Mole existed before you did."
"Ahem."
Listening, Hyperion let a laugh slip out. So the part about lying well had been true after all.
"More to the point, is this the human Mole spoke of? The one it has newly befriended?"
Firefly darted over toward Hyperion and declared, in a voice of great solemnity:
"Bow your head and kneel before a great spirit, human."
Still holding the lamp, Laniakea groaned and pressed a hand to her brow. Then she snatched Firefly up in one fist.
"Eh? Eh? Will you not release this one?"
"I knew it would be like this... I never should have called you."
"How wounding! You summoned Minnow—why was this one alone left uncalled? It has been so long. Must you be so stingy?"
Firefly raised its voice, but Laniakea ignored it, flicked the spirit into the lamp, and shut the glass door.
"Release this one! At once!"
The protest came faintly from inside the lamp. Laniakea turned a sheepish smile on Hyperion.
"You heard, didn't you? Mole is perfectly fine in the Spirit Realm."
"So it seems."
If it had told the others not to wake it because it couldn't be bothered, then it was hardly in any danger. Only then did Hyperion's heart ease a little.
Hearing that Mole had worn itself out wandering in search of his traces, and had fallen asleep from the effort, had weighed on him. He was sorry that the spirit who had pressed a tomato into his hands and called him a friend had suffered on his account—and sorry, too, toward Laniakea, whose oldest friend that Mole was. If something had happened to it because of him, how could he ever have lifted his head before her?
Just then Laniakea looked at the firefly in the lamp.
"Turn the flame up a little."
"Is that a request one makes after shutting someone in?"
Tiny as its form was, he could feel it grumbling with its whole body—and he could tell, just as clearly, that all their bickering was nothing more than play.
Firefly muttered something or other, and the flame in Laniakea's hand swelled. With a soft roar the lamp filled with a mass of fire, yet the spirit went on fluttering through the blaze at its leisure, bobbing this way and that. Watching it remain perfectly unbothered even inside the flames, Hyperion understood all over again that the little insect was truly a spirit.
When she opened the lamp, Firefly fluttered up and settled on her sleeve.
"Hot."
"Bear it."
Even as it said so, it dimmed its light as far as it could. Hyperion studied it.
"A firefly's light shouldn't be hot."
He had caught them himself as a boy, fluttering around the monastery. The light in his hands had held not the slightest warmth.
"This one is. It isn't a spirit of light—it's a fire spirit. The first time we met I didn't know that, and I got thoroughly taken in."
"Now, now. Enough, enough. Is there no other favor you require?"
As if it disliked any talk of old times, Firefly circled above their heads and scattered light once more.
"We have to harvest, and I can hardly see, so make it just a little brighter."
"No trouble at all."
With the answer, a soft radiance spilled over the vegetable patch. Laniakea and Hyperion looked at each other, then reached for the garden at the same time. They would have to finish the harvest before Signo came back.
"Then I shall take my leave. Let us meet often hereafter."
With those words, Firefly vanished. Hyperion looked down at the basket in his arms: corn, potatoes, and sweet potatoes, beautifully roasted, and tomatoes besides. Naturally, Firefly had done the roasting. All through the work it had hovered at their side, insisting it could be every bit as helpful as Mole, and in the end it had cooked everything the two of them picked. It had also roasted a cucumber, and earned a scolding from Laniakea for the effort.
Once it was gone, Hyperion packed the watering can, the gardening shears, and the rest into a wooden crate, while Laniakea tidied around the patch and made ready to go. Signo and Lucy had still not returned. Most likely they were waiting with the knights by the front gate of the Annex Palace.
When the tidying was finished, Hyperion turned to her.
"I meant to say this a little earlier, but thank you once again, Laniakea. For coming to find me. For keeping the Imperial Palace perfectly in hand while I was gone—and for telling me who moved, and how. You were a tremendous help in this."
Laniakea blinked her wide eyes. Then she smiled, bright as anything.
"I'm glad I could help."
There was a pride in that shy smile she could not quite hide. Even as she settled the little basket more securely in her arms, the smile would not leave her.
I was a help. It was the first praise she had heard in her life, and the first thanks. In Priatra her ability had been the most worthless thing about her, and even after she came to the Empire she had never had the chance to use it for anyone else. No—she had believed she never could. She had never imagined that, in all her life, she would be able to show her spirits to anyone but herself.
And now there was someone who spoke of them with her as if it were nothing, and who thanked her for their help. That alone made her feel as if her chest might burst. A sense of kinship she had never known. Gratitude for a gift she had thought useless and small. She had not known it could feel this good. Aware she must look like a fool for it, Laniakea still could not manage to stop smiling.
Hyperion lifted the wooden crate, and she came to stand beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A smile caught on his face as he watched her.
"Give me the basket as well."
"I can carry this much myself."
As if to tell him not to worry, she hoisted the basket high against her chest.
"I really am fine now. I'm not even tired."
Afraid he might tell her to rest a little longer, she lifted it with even more determination.
"See? If I weren't well, could I hold it like this?"
At the desperate appeal, Hyperion nodded.
"I see. You truly do look well now."
"Don't I? Then I can go back out to the Empress's Palace starting tomorrow, can't I?"
"It pleases me that my empress is so devoted to her duty. But, before that."
He bent and brought his mouth to her ear.
"...!"
At the breath grazing her ear, Laniakea understood at once which undone duty he meant. The duty of spending the night together, on the appointed days, for the sake of an heir. The one they had missed because the attack had left her so exhausted she had simply fallen asleep.
"If you still wish to return to the Empress's Palace after that, I won't keep you. But..."
His smile deepened.