Chapter X

  Tochs’ Market

  Thing seemed to be in better spirits as it and Vito strolled across the rugged rocks of the shore towards the city of Onagio. The spirit was barefoot but never seemed to be in any pain from the sharp stones below. It darted this way and that, looking at shells and little crabs making their way across the beach.

  Thing detoured this way and that, generally keeping to their course. As they walked, it honed in on Vito, and with time came to walk beside him, staring straight ahead. Vito found this a little odd, and asked,

  “Are you alright?”

  Thing nodded, remaining silent. They walked on for another minute more before it spoke,

  “I… just want to say thank you, for standing up for me against that meanie Arbiter. Fricken’ stupid deer… And for talking for me. So stupid…”

  Thing looked down at the ground like it was embarrassed. Vito was happy.

  “It’s okay, Thing. That was pretty scary,” he said, rubbing its shoulder.

  “And I’ve bumped your friend-level up accordingly,” it added with a mumble.

  Vito laughed.

  “Okay, well thanks! What’s the number right now?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Vito was surprised. He expected the score to be out of ten, or five.

  “Is that… good?” he asked, to clarify.

  “It’s out of thirty.” Thing said, it’s eyes darting up for a second sheepishly.

  Vito was once again surprised, “out of thirty! Only sixteen?”

  Thing threw its hands up, “there’s a lot of factors that go into the ranking! And what was I supposed to do, just forget about you refusing to get naked and making me use that stupid oar!”

  Vito rolled his eyes playfully.

  “Oh man, looks like I have a lot to answer for, huh?”

  “Don’t worry so much…” Thing murmured.

  Vito leaned his ear in playfully, “Hmm? Why’s that?”

  “Well, Arbiter acknowledged our bond, so we’re probably okay… I guess…”

  Vito smiled, “you can be really sweet sometimes, Thing.”

  Thing looked up at him.

  “Do you think I could try some-Thing with you?” it asked.

  “Uh… sure,” said Vito, not knowing quite what to expect. Thing took his hand.

  “You don’t look like Cor, you know,” it said.

  “Well, yeah!” Vito chuckled. Thing had a concentrated look on its face.

  “No, I mean your energy. I’m pretty sure Arbiter noticed it too. It’s a big Thing for Arbiter to recognize our friendship… a spirit-talker is special in that they can bond with spirits, you know.”

  Vito shrugged, saying, “I don’t think I’m very special.”

  Thing snorted, apparently finding this idea to be laughable. Before Vito could ask why, it made a second snort, more frustrated than the first. It let his hand go.

  “I’m sure that a spirit-talker can unlock a special power with a spirit that has a bond with them, but I can’t figure out how to get it out of you!”

  Vito smiled, not believing that there really was such a power. If true, it would certainly be something worth investigating, but Vito suspected the case to be that Thing was attributing direct physical power to an abstract concept, misunderstanding that one did not always equal the other.

  “The power of friendship?” he offered Thing.

  Thing seemed to seriously consider this.

  “Okay, a second power then.”

  Vito couldn’t help but pat its head upon hearing that. Thing hardly noticed, deep in thought, occasionally swatting at him: thinking a bug was harassing its scalp.

  Even as they were nearly upon the city, the spirit remained in deep thought.

  The boundary between the beach and city’s docks was marked by a gatehouse with a portal blocked by wrought iron bars. Two guards manned it, each equipped with a dha: a short, single-edged sword with a slight curve. One was a brunette woman, and the other a man with light blue eyes. Both stood behind the iron door, watching for anyone coming up to the gate. As Thing and Vito approached, finishing a meal-on-the-go from their inter-dimensional reserve of rations, Vito tried to get Thing to hide, or at least cover itself more so as not arouse suspicion, but Thing refused, its demeanor dismissive as it (Vito guessed) continued to ponder the mysteries of friendship.

  He would’ve called off the whole thing if it weren’t for what Thing had done at the meeting of the Ashi’man. It had been ready to defend him from Grandfather Oak. It deserved a measure of his trust.

  “What the!” said Blue Eyes, his jaw hanging open.

  “Why’s he blue!” the Brunette shouted, pointing at Thing as Vito and it approached.

  Before Vito knew what was happening, Thing took his hand in its again. Vito was surprised and looked down to his hand by instinct. His eyes were turned down, away from Thing’s face, but he heard its voice, shrill and nasally as ever, though with a different quality to it. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what had changed.

  “Well, how rude!” it said. “Don’t you know me? I’m Thing of course, only the most important noble from…”

  Vito looked at the guards, then at Thing, and realized that the guards understood what it was saying! It was speaking human language! Despite being disoriented, he managed to fill in for Thing’s pause:

  “Berrai-Sua! The grand island of Berrai-Sua!” It was the first thing that came to his mind. The Brunette did a double take. Blue Eyes’ jaw sunk a little lower.

  Thing nodded haughtily. “Well, am I to be kept outside the gates of this fair city here forever? What’s going on here? Don’t you know that a Berrai-Suan lord such as myself has important business inside the walls?” Thing crinkled its lips and flared its nostrils as it spoke.

  Vito didn’t know how Thing was speaking in human language, but he was beginning to feel a thrill at this daring deception, and added with an imperious tone: “are you just going to stare at his magnificence? Don’t you see the golden ring of the ruling house upon his horned crown? Surely you know of the rich island of Berrai-Sua, far to the…”

  “South!” Thing added with a giddy smile towards his friend. The Brunette regained some of her composure, and asked tentatively, in a tone of respect:

  “I don’t… what did you say your name was, my lord?”

  “Thing!” said Thing.

  Vito wasn’t sure they’d accept that, so he thought fast, adding,

  “—erston. Thingerston Ham. Haven’t you heard of his great house?”

  Blue Eyes scratched his head, “Berrai-Sua you say… hmm… think I’ve heard of it…”

  “Wasn’t it Serrai-Rua?” the Brunette replied back to him.

  It was. The land to the far south was where Vito’s father had come from, Serrai-Rua. In his confusion, “Berrai-Sua” had been the best he could come up with. However, he didn’t want them to know this, and sighed as if he’d heard this many times before.

  “Here we go again. Berrai-Sua is farther south than Serrai-Rua, how can the common folk of this land know so little of the outside world?”

  “Shameful, just shameful,” said Thing, tilting its head back and forth. Blue Eyes pointed to his companion,

  “See Barnaba, told you I wasn’t mispronouncing it. You might be a know-it-all, but nothing beats classic street smarts.”

  Barnaba, the brunette, puffed out a heavy breath.

  “Always our shift. Nothing ever happens whenever Graxia and Amokhor are here, but the second we show up…” she looked to Vito and Thing.

  “Just a second, sirs.”

  “Won’t take but a moment my lord,” added Blue Eyes. Barnaba disappeared behind the wall, and they could hear footsteps, the sounds of boots against stone stairs.

  “Are you a Berrai-Suan too?” the blue-eyed guard asked Vito. Vito puffed out his cheeks momentarily, and affected an exasperated chuckle.

  “No no, of course not. I’m just a scribe boy, Vitomer Goatson. It is my honor to serve my lord, king of the richest land in all the world.” Vito was going to add a detail, that “his master” had recruited him from Bangye-Rua, but thought better of it, given that his appearance was atypical for a Bangye-Ruan.

  Blue Eyes looked Thing up and down.

  “That headdress with the horns and the ring does look pretty fancy… must’ve fought a bull or something to get horns like that…”

  As the guard considered Thing’s outfit, Barnaba returned with the captain Vito had seen yesterday chasing Cor. His long, savage facial scars were on full display, making his head look like a poorly cut orange. He was bald, with one, piercing green eye. His lip was drawn up in a scowl. It seemed that his upper lip had been badly mangled, as it was a different color from the rest of his skin. Vito feared they’d immediately be recognized from last evening, but the captain didn’t indicate that he even vaguely recalled them.

  Barnaba spoke to the captain,

  “Well, sir Dariok, you’re always saying you know every land and every people—”

  “Of course I know every land and people, I’m the captain of the greatest guard regiment in Remex, not some Bangye-Ruan swineherd!” he snapped at her.

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  Vito really appreciated that comment, since it gave him some insight into how the mainlanders saw his home. Also, the captain’s claim to know “every land and people,” was immediately disproven to Vito by the fact that he pronounced Bangye-Rua as bang-yay roo-ah, instead of how it was actually pronounced: bong-ee roo-ah. Someone who knew so well the regions and cultures of the world would probably know how to pronounce the name of the island chain less than a day’s travel east of him.

  Barnaba continued,

  “—Alright, what do you know about Berrai-Sua, sir? Are they a friendly or hostile power?”

  The captain squinted, “you mean Serrai-Rua?”

  Vito opened his mouth to speak, but Blue Eyes cut him off, “no sir, Berrai-Sua, farther south.”

  The captain nodded, “ah yes, Berrai-Sua…” He looked Thing up and down, and then Vito. “While, as you can see from the prince here, its got a very warm climate… which is why they don’t wear much clothing, and uh…”

  Barnaba raised an eyebrow, “are you sure you’ve heard of it, sir?”

  “Of course I know about it! I know everything there is to know about Berrai-Sua! It’s difficult, you see, because there are many different warring factions on Berrai-Sua, some hostile to us, some not.” He turned to the Thing and Vito, “isn’t that right, boys?” His face was disfigured in such a way that Vito could not tell from his expression whether he was trying to intimidate them into agreeing with him, or simply hoping he had guessed right.

  “Of course, but we’re from the kingdom of Ham, so you don’t have to worry about us,” Vito answered.

  “Right, right,” Sir Dariok mused. He beckoned the two of them to approach the gate, and they did. Barnaba retrieved some keys from an area to her left, obscured from their view. She fitted them into the lock on the door of iron bars, and pushed it open.

  “C’mon through.”

  Thing and Vito made their way through, still holding hands, but were halted halfway by the captain.

  “If you two hear anything about a wizard and a kid traveling in a little rowboat, bring it to us immediately, you hear? We’ll pay.” He gave the two of them a suspicious look. Vito was sure he was about to arrest them for kidnapping the prince, but he didn’t. This confused Vito. He had assumed up until now that the captain had forgotten about them, somehow. If he did remember them, then it should have been easy to identify them. Even though Vito had been oriented opposite from the docks and his face had not been seen, Thing had been facing them, and with its blue skin and horns, it was unmistakable. Vito knew it was dangerous, but he had to ask:

  “Do you have descriptions of them?”

  The captain nodded.

  “The boy was probably from Bang-Yay-Rua, given that his boat was coming from the east. You know what those folk look like?”

  “Yeah,” said Vito softly.

  “The wizard looked a bit like your friend here, except that his hand was massive! Each finger was as long as a man’s leg!”

  Thing jumped in,

  “A giant hand! My good sir, you’re talking about my twin brother! He’s a messed-up guy, let me tell you, and another prince who wears the horned crown! He was born with a giant hand.”

  The captain turned to Barnaba the second he heard this information.

  “Do you see? I told you it couldn’t be the same person!”

  He turned back to Vito and Thing.

  “You wouldn’t imagine, but my guardswoman here nearly had me believing that the two of you were the wizard and boy!” He shot the woman a dirty look, “not to mention interrupted my game to do it…”

  Barnaba shook her head, “but sir, he could’ve just—”

  “Oh quiet! Not even a wizard can chop off his hand and grow a bigger one in its place! Only a spirit could do something like that!”

  Vito and Thing merely watched, astounded, as the interaction unfolded.

  “What if he is a spirit, sir…” she cast a brief glance towards Thing. Captain Dariok sighed with exasperation.

  “Idiot. He’s speaking human language. Don’t you know spirits can’t do that? Now, cease your impertinent questions and return to your post. Besides, the boy’s not even Bang-Yay-Ruan”

  Barnaba saluted and went back to the gatehouse. Blue Eyes shrugged and followed her. The captain shooed Thing and Vito away, saying,

  “I’ve got some business to attend to, my lords, contact us if you learn your brother’s whereabouts!”

  Thing and Vito jogged into the city and behind a store, and began to laugh hysterically, Thing snorting like a gorging pig. People passing by gave them odd looks, though whether from the laughter or Thing’s appearance they did not know. That made it funnier. When Vito had recovered enough to speak, he said,

  “How did you do that— talk like a human?”

  Thing put a finger up so it could collect itself. When it had, it replied, “I told you we had a special power!”

  “How did you know it was that?” he asked.

  “Well, you’re a spirit-talker, and I remember you asking about why spirits can understand humans but can’t speak human language, so it was kinda like: ‘duh, the Little Goat is the missing link!’”

  “And you figured all of that out as we were walking?!”

  “Nope! Just thought of it now!”

  Vito laughed, “what do you mean you just thought of it now? Did you just grab my hand and hope for the best?!”

  Thing shrugged.

  “Well, you spoke for me when we were talking to Arbiter, so I just felt like… you could again. And then it was real!”

  Vito raised his hand, giving Thing a high-five, “Happy to!”

  As Thing and his hands met, Vito considered the implications of this discovery. While in the moment inexplicable, Vito remembered how Thing had described to him the forming of the pantheons, and knew how humans had influenced the spirit-gods. This was, in effect, the same thing. Could it be that Vito’s actions towards Thing had changed it? Given it a new ability?

  He was struck with the same realization he had had when he had learned about the pantheons: that the systems of the world were far more fragile than he had thought. Thing might not stick to the same behavior forever in accordance with nature, as was the case with spirits, because Thing was traveling with humans, who could influence and alter it, just as ancient humans had done with the Ashi’man.

  He wondered if when humans had been created they had been given this power intentionally, or if it was an unforeseen permutation, an unintended third party altering the cosmos. Was he supposed to be doing this? Was it right for a human to change the forces that ordered the world? Even if it was, was Vito the right human to do so?

  At the same time it was frightening, it was exciting. Who knew what powers they could unlock? What truths about reality might lie in the phenomenon of spirit alteration?

  Still, it was a hefty responsibility. If Thing began to act more negatively, Cor and he would have only themselves to blame. Ultimately, he didn’t think that he was capable of keeping Thing from being influenced, as long as they were traveling together.

  Coming out of his thoughts, Vito and Thing came around to the front of a store, and Vito examined the city around them. He had been to Onagio many times, and began making his way towards the market near the docks, beckoning Thing to follow him.

  “Hey Thing, if Cor or I ever do something that feels wrong to you, let us know, okay? Don’t assume that we always do the right thing.”

  “Yeah, okay…” said Thing with disinterest. It investigated Vito’s face for a few moments, trying to discern why he’d said that, but was quickly distracted by the many wooden homes and stone towers of the city.

  Onagio was an impressive, if disorganized city. Some of its structures were brick, some wood and thatch, and a rare few: quarried stone. The urban areas competed for space with small farms, gardens, and animal enclosures. The highest peaks of the city were those of Onagio Keep, the seat of the king, whose spires reached for the darkening clouds of the wet season. The brief respite from the rain had ended, and the roofs of the city ran with rain. The path beneath Vito and Thing was packed dirt, with colorful awnings of dyed sheep’s wool to keep the brunt of the downpour off. While Vito walked at the same pace whether he was protected or not, Thing would dive from place to place to keep out of the rain, as a sort of game. Whenever they were stopped or drew many eyes, they would hold hands and offer an explanation for Thingerston Ham and his realm of Berrai-Sua.

  Watching the little blue spirit jump through the curtains of rain was almost like following an energetic dog or chasing down a leaf blowing in the wind. Vito joined the jumping game once but found that it didn’t bring him much enjoyment. No, it was far more fun just to watch Thing— its scarf and hair whipping through the rain like bolts of red lightning.

  The two of them arrived at the most familiar place to Vito in all Onagio: Tochs’ Market. It was nestled into a circle of wooden buildings only about five hundred feet inland of the docks where they’d rescued Cor only a day ago. Some of the buildings were stockpiles, some businesses, and a rare few were personal homes, right on the market. From the roof of each of the buildings ascended a metal rod, and in the center of the circular plaza ringed by them all was a huge pole, larger than all the others. A tarp was draped over the top of this tall central pole, with the ends attached to the smaller ones in a ring, forming a conical roof over the space, much like the tent of a circus.

  Under the tarp, twenty or more merchants would gather to present their wares daily. The hem of the tarp cleared the ring of surrounding buildings, covering their roofs and hanging over their backs. The water which ran off the tarp and down the back of the buildings collected into a moat which was cut around the market. A channel would then ferry it into the Westward Strait. This channel was raised slightly, so that the moat would not empty immediately.

  The purpose of this measure was to increase the areas’s aesthetic— every year, a competition would take place between artists. Whoever could produce the best landscape during the dry season would be called to paint Tochs’ Market during the wet season, with its iconic moat as the focus of the piece. Once completed, the painting would be put on the royal auction, with one fourth of the proceeds going to the artist, and the other three to charitable causes. The tradition had begun long ago, and the king and his nobles owned by now over a hundred copies of its likeness.

  A small bridge provided passage across the moat and into the market. As Thing entered, Vito stopped, noticing a tent nearby. He saw that it had a hole cut into its side. Suspecting that this was the artist for this year, Vito told Thing:

  “You go ahead, I’ll be right back.”

  Thing winked, taking his hand, and turning towards the passage into Tochs’ Market where two buildings parted.

  “Introducing Thingerston Ham, prince of Berrai-Sua!” the spirit announced. And with this, it marched in. Vito smiled as he jogged through the rain to the tent. He scratched the outside to make a noise, and heard,

  “Yes?” The reply came in a deep, masculine voice.

  “Can I see it?” he asked.

  There was a rustling within, and the tent’s entrance flap peeled open. Inside was a pale, thin man. His blonde hair had frizzed from the humidity, causing him to look like a big dandelion.

  “Quickly, kid, I’ve got work to do.”

  Vito smiled and stepped into the tent. There was almost nothing inside, just a few packs of food and clean water, and an easel. To its immediate left was a slightly irregular rectangular viewing port, clearly cut with a knife. Vito crouched down just a finger from the easel, and looked out the hole. He could see the whole of Tochs’ Market, from one end of the moat to the other. The artist extended his hand towards him reflexively, worried Vito would knock into his work. Vito bavked away again carefully, easing the artist’s worry.

  Vito turned to look at the painting itself. It was not as he expected. He expected it to be elaborate, but it was not. It wasn’t made with immaculate strokes nor rich colors. It was simple, greyscale, and without many details. At least, Vito thought so at first.

  The longer he looked, the more he saw the difference between the shades of grey the artist had used to depict depth and shadow, how he had blended stark white and deep black to make the sky and the rain. It was simple— but it had depth. It was subtle.

  “I like it,” he said.

  “Oh?” said the artist, an inscrutable look on his face.

  “How did you do this?” Vito asked him. The man rolled his eyes.

  “I’m not taking pupils. Leave now, please, I’m trying to work.”

  Vito couldn’t help but smile as he strolled out of the tent. The artist closed the flap without even looking back at him. Vito sighed to himself, and sprinted back across the bridge into Tochs’ Market.

  “like something out of a story,” he thought to himself.

  When he returned, Thing was browsing. He joined it, searching for clothes to disguise Cor. Tochs’ Market was dark, lit only by the light streaming out of the open doors of the buildings fencing them in on all sides. The fireplaces within were always kept fed to keep the place illuminated through the overcast days. The fingers of light reached in on all sides, giving the market a liminal feeling. Vito and Thing eventually found a darkened corner where the light did not reach, and they retrieved the pack full of candles and greases from the other world quietly.

  Thing lost itself in the wonders of the market: the rugs, produce, jewelry, appliances and merchandise. Meanwhile, Vito sold his mother’s goods to their usual buyer, Ms. Aemiyaka, who ran a general store in town. She gave him four silver Verts and a Qua. Vito knew the value of the currency, though was still unsure of what quality or quantity of clothing it could buy him, since he had never bought clothes before. His mother made all the clothes that he had ever owned.

  The mystery was soon solved. He was about a Qua short. He could buy a pair of pants or a shirt, but there wasn’t a long cloak with a hood for under five Verts.

  Vito joined Thing at a farming supplies stall, where it was examining a hoe. Vito sighed.

  “Looks like we might have to sell some of our food, we’re short for a cloak.”

  Thing crinkled its nose, not raising its face from the hoe’s steel edge.

  “How much did you get? Did you tell them you’re with me?” it asked.

  “Four Verts and a Qua,” Vito answered.

  The shopkeep looked on with amusement as Thing spoke to Vito in one language, and Vito to him in another.

  “What are you talking about? There’s one right there for three Verts,” said Thing. The spirit pointed absentmindedly to a scarecrow. Vito barely gave it a second glance, saying,

  “No, I mean a—” he trailed off as his eyes returned to the scarecrow.

  It was unusual in that it wasn’t dressed like a farmer, but wore a dark cloak, and carried a fake sword carved out of wood. Its face had been painted to resemble an angry, large-eyed creature. Its garb was pitch black and covered in patch marks, scrapes, and holes. Its tattered appearance lent it a menacing quality. As Thing said, it cost only three Verts. Vito looked to the vendor.

  “I’d like to buy this,” he said.

  As they carried the grim specter on their backs through the city, Vito made a resolution in his heart. If the apocalypse was real, they had to do everything possible to prevent it. Tochs’ Market, the painter in his tent, Thing diving under awnings to dodge the rain— if they didn’t stop it, all of this would be gone. It all brought him such happiness, even so soon, to recall the fingers of light in the market, the unfinished painting inside the tent, the two red streaks darting through the rain, and the somber figure hoisted upon their backs, whose cloak they would pilfer once outside the city’s bounds: It was all so perfectly, mundanely beautiful, in a way he could scarcely describe. And it was worth saving.

  He couldn’t explain why, but in that moment, Vito shed a tear of happiness. He was sure that Thing would’ve comforted him if it had noticed, but it did not. The tear mingled with the rain.