11. Wonderland (41)
11. Wonderland (41)
The next morning, the five acrobats gathered at the Judicial Theater, instruments in hand.
The hall was empty except for the three Apostles. Today's performance was a ritual to lull Kirkeus back to sleep—no ordinary audience was necessary.
"Everyone sleep well? Eat enough? Don't forget the lavatory. Solid sleep, a full stomach, and an empty bladder—the three pillars of good sound."
Apostle Strauss stood on the podium, baton in hand. The five took their places on the stage one by one.
Vocals: Ella.
Flute: Karen.
Bass: Reina.
Piano: Maya.
Drums: Ruelo.
Everyone settled into position.
"That's my girl! Let's go!"
Minova thrust both arms skyward with a shout. Ruelo gave her father a small wave and gripped her drumsticks.
The kit was enormous compared to her small frame. Striking a set laid out across so many angles looked nearly impossible for a six-year-old's reach.
So she used her hair. It coiled together on either side, writhing like octopus limbs, and wrapped around the extra sticks, lifting them into position.
"Yoga at that age... no matter how many times I see it, it's hard to believe. How much suffering must she have gone through?"
Hobbs clicked his tongue as he watched Ruelo loosen up, four drumsticks whirling at once.
Yoga was a power that typically manifested in ascetics who practiced extreme austerities. A monk who observed a vow of silence suddenly transmitting words without opening his mouth; a devotee who mortified his flesh with needles until his skin grew as hard as iron; a hermit who trained bare-bodied through midwinter in an ice cave and learned to generate heat from within—all were examples.
It was rare, though not unheard of, for a stage performer to attain Yoga. Many disciplines demanded intense self-conquest during training. Advanced Yoga could rival magic, so those who attained it often mistook it for Inspira.
Passing off Ruelo's mobile hair as Yoga had been Clara's idea. Returning from A Midsummer Night's Circus the previous afternoon, she had noticed Ruelo struggling with the extra sticks and made the suggestion on the spot.
The story that she had reached death's door from an incurable illness and awakened Yoga while fighting back was entirely plausible.
Thanks to that, Ruelo could wield her hair onstage without exposing anything tied to Samson.
"She's the best! Greatest drummer there ever was! Our Luri is a genius!"
"Dad... please stop..."
Ruelo cringed under Minova's shameless doting. Everyone else clicked their tongues, by now thoroughly accustomed to the display after sharing quarters. But one person watched the pair with undisguised envy.
That was Reina.
She scanned the audience seats. Lord Fantastic was nowhere to be seen. He had only regained consciousness just before they left the Falcon's Nest that morning, after being knocked out cold. Knowing nothing of what had happened, he had been dragged all the way here.
"I'll explain the situation to my student. The rest of you, just play."
Apostle Diamond Queen had taken him underground the moment they arrived. Reina had thought they could simply tell him about the Sleeping Chaos, but the woman knew her student's temperament better than anyone.
"That one doesn't take anyone's word for things. He'll need to see it with his own eyes before he believes it."
He would have reached the underground chamber by now.
Even so, Reina did not think the truth awaiting him could be more devastating than the truth she had already learned.
Demon Gods, Chaos—those were matters with no direct connection to her.
But the truth she had uncovered shook the very foundation of her existence.
She forgot to pluck the strings. Her fingers clamped down so tightly the steel bit into her skin.
"Bass! Head in the game!"
Strauss's rebuke made her drop her head.
"...I'm sorry."
She was grateful nobody could see the expression she wore now. She was wearing the Weeping Woman Mask. The face that had once filled her with pride whenever she was told she resembled her mother had become an object of horror and revulsion.
She adjusted the tangled strings, then reached up and traced the mask's edge.
—If showing your face is too much to bear, why not wear this on your way out?
She missed the person who had given her this mask. She wanted to collapse into his arms and spill everything festering inside her heart.
Just then, Maya slammed a fist onto the piano keys. She shot an icy glare at Ruelo.
Ruelo, trying frantically to wave off her father's mortifying cheers, had accidentally let a drumstick slip—and it had cracked into the back of Maya's skull.
It was an accident, a child's mistake, but the force behind the throw was anything but childish. The stick had flown like an arrow and struck with a noise so violent it seemed a bone might have fractured.
"S-sorry, Maya..."
Ruelo apologized, but Maya ignored her and refocused on stretching her hands. The atmosphere was curdling fast. Even Karen, who had been playing with bright energy, glanced uneasily between the three of them and tangled her fingers on the keys.
"What is going on with all of you? What's wrong?"
Sensing the escalating tension, Ella cut in and stopped Strauss before he could start hopping furiously.
"Why don't we take a short break and start fresh? I don't think breakfast has quite settled. I could use a trip to the lavatory anyway."
Everyone nodded and lifted their hands from their instruments. Ella took in the four sour faces, let out a sigh, and stepped down from the stage.
"Everyone's running on fumes."
"They are. I think this place is the problem. Strangely enough, it's got my nerves on edge too."
She shuddered, thinking of the stage where punishments had once been carried out and the presence slumbering beneath it.
"Will the performance be all right?"
"Of course. The piece isn't difficult. Apostle Strauss ran the calculations while listening to us practice: with living musicians of our caliber playing in this position, one minute of music should close roughly one eye."
"One per minute... then it should be done in about twenty minutes."
Scarecrow supplied the estimate, having seen the count of eyes underground the day before.
"And once that's over, we'll be heading home."
"I'll miss you, Miss Elphi."
Scarecrow spoke the thought with unguarded honesty.
Shortly after returning to the surface, she would regain her memories. He couldn't guess how severe the shock would be. Her Affection level toward him might well fall lower than it had been before the Curse Plague incident. That he had managed to shed Wonderstein's shell and share his true feelings with her before that happened was genuinely fortunate.
"I'd like to stay a little longer, but... well. Haah. So, about that... um... hey, Mister..."
She was having a remarkably hard time getting the words out. It was rare for her—the woman who always spoke her mind without flinching—to hesitate this much.
"Go ahead. It's all right."
"So... um, after the performance, before we leave, I have a question to ask you. Will you answer it honestly?"
What could she be so reluctant to ask?
Scarecrow tilted his head.
"You could just ask now."
"No. I don't want to have heard it and then be unable to focus on the piece. And don't try to brush it off like yesterday, claiming you forgot. I want an honest answer. Please. All right?"
Her plea was earnest to the point of desperation. He found himself nodding before he meant to.
"Understood."
Scarecrow had a feeling she might ask whether he was actually Wonderstein. The quest only failed if his identity was exposed—not if someone merely suspected—so there was no immediate danger in that.
If she did ask, what was he supposed to do?
He decided it wasn't a question worth agonizing over. It was unfair to her, but he would have to deny it. And not solely for the sake of the quest.
Before long, warm-ups ended and the joint rehearsal began.
Kirkeus's Lullaby.
The main OST of the Tril Trillo series.
Scarecrow hummed along absentmindedly as he stepped out of the hall.
At the theater entrance, Minova and Hobbs had already procured some liquor and were a drink in each. They looked giddy at the thought of heading home.
Scarecrow approached Chen Hawk. Hawk was commanding the security detail posted here in case of contingencies. He was still wearing the hawk mask and feathered wing-costume from his stage days.
"Didn't you say you wear a butterfly mask and guard uniform when on duty?"
"Haha, at my age, it takes nearly a full day to switch Personas. Spending all this time with you lot, I never managed the Persona-transition rite. Those are the regulations, but—well, what does it matter? One way or another, I'll be gone today."
Scarecrow startled at his words.
"Today?"
"So it seems."
"Then you should at least go inside and listen to the performance."
"I'll manage. I already heard plenty of their practice yesterday."
Scarecrow started to offer some words of comfort, then stopped. This was Wonderland—a place where death was tossed about like a joke. Sentimental goodbyes didn't fit.
"Thanks to you, I've had a pleasant stay. It's been fun."
"I've enjoyed myself too. Leaving with a good memory to carry on my way out."
Just then, the Chicken Uncle thrust his head between them.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo! Hey! We've been grateful to you too! Our daughter—no, I mean, our daughters!"
"Our little sisters!"
Hobbs bellowed from behind them.
"Thanks for looking after 'em! Here, here—take a glass, everyone!"
Minova and Hobbs were both red-faced already. Looking over at where they'd been sitting, he saw more than a dozen empty bottles rolling across the floor, though the Demon Gods had only given them the liquor a short while ago.
Apparently they'd acted on the sly banter they'd shared yesterday: when else would they get the chance to try otherworldly liquor?
Scarecrow accepted the drinks they thrust at him. Hawk was technically on duty, but he too took a glass without hesitation—maybe because he, too, would be leaving this place today.
The liquor sold in Wonderland worked on the spirit as much as the body. Scarecrow felt the pleasant, light-headed buzz rise quickly.
Prodded by Minova, the four of them joined together in song. The lyrics were ones Ella had scribbled onto Strauss's lullaby yesterday after being horrified to discover that the original vocal line consisted solely of whistling.
They sang one song, knocked back another drink, sang a second, knocked back another, and were about to launch into a third when an enormous voice suddenly erupted across the space.
—Guest, this area is off-limits!
—Guest, this area is off-limits!
—Guest, this area is off-limits!
—Guest, this area is off-limits!
A mechanical voice, stentorian and repeating.
It unmistakably belonged to the Bouncer—the spirit that guarded the outer bounds of Cadsun.
They already knew its voice could resound throughout Cadsun. Over the past several days, they had heard it ring out intermittently. But this simultaneous, overlapping chorus was new.
Just then, a guard came sprinting up from below the Grand Staircase. He was a squad leader, same as Hawk—the horse-headed guard who had once seized Ella only to let her slip away.
"Squad Leader! Squad Leader Mae! Intruders!"
At the word "intruders," Hawk set down his glass and shot to his feet.
"Don't tell me—more living people?"
"No. They broke through from the Abyss!"
"An army of another Demon God?"
Scarecrow put the question to Horse-Face, who shook his head.
"Nay—they're demon mercenaries, hired by the Demon Gods themselves!"
"Demons? What kind?"
"They're—"
A colossal crash shook the very foundation of Wonderland.
Boom.
Guards screamed. The three men who had been well into their cups lost their balance and sprawled across the ground. Hawk, steadied by a lifetime of aerial acrobatics, only stumbled for a moment.
"Where's the enemy?"
"Everywhere! They're appearing all along the perimeter and converging on the gates! I outpaced them using the admission tickets' swift passage and came ahead to—"
Another crash.
Boom.
This time, the veil of the Arch Gate leading into Cadsun began to fracture.
Crack. Crackle.
Beyond the spreading fissures in the translucent glass-like barrier, countless shadows were hurling themselves against it, smashing at the gate.
Someone opened their mouth to alert the Apostles—
And in that instant, the Arch Gate's veil shattered.
Blinding shards of glass scattered.
A piercing, shrieking cacophony poured through.
—Kee-aaak.
—Kik-kik-kik.
Rabbit heads and elk antlers.
Hooked talons, hind legs like a goat's, and whip-like tails.
Scarecrow knew these creatures. He had encountered them before, here in this world.
Tens of thousands of Zakanuba surged into Cadsun.