A Messenger from Nephelokokkygia

Yokai-Town Market

Chapter 15: Yokai-Town Market

Backwards up the mossy glen

Turned and trooped the goblin men,

With their shrill repeating cry,

"Come buy, come buy."

--Christina Rossetti, "Goblin Market"

The first thing Grace noticed after Fort Stone was winter. Not the kind cold enough to blanket the sparse, yellow grass around them with snow, but enough to dry out the skin on one's hands and face. In Vinland, she had gradually forgotten things could feel so crisp. The only thing she appreciated now was she wore all the garments she brought to that cut-off world.

"Why us?" asked Fox. "Doesn't the skunk have other eggs in the world to snatch for the Easter Bunny?"

"Undoubtedly." Bennu's typically silly bearing was nowhere to be seen. He must have lost it in the hustle. "A cockatrice egg pulled out of an asp's nest, a fenghuang exploited as a gambler's lucky charm, even a roc's egg cracked to make a thousand-and-one omelets for a thousand-and-one mornings." Heat came off him in waves, countering winter within a couple feet of him. "But—and I say this with no arrogance—a phoenix is rare, and a griffin more so. We must be vigilant now about egg snatchers."

"I suppose," said Diana, "just to be accurate, we should call them 'hatchling snatchers.'"

Schrodinger directed the group to a restaurant they should be just down the road. "Traveling inside an atom's fast, but not quite precise. Half this restaurant exists in the physical world, the other's in Yokai-Town."

Whether walking or flying, the survivors of what would be known as "the Fall of Fort Stone" traveled unpaved dirt in the cold.

The restaurant turned out to be rectangle-shaped, with a roof of blue tiles fit together like waves. A sign was written in a language Grace did not know, but thought looked beautiful. Blinds were drawn on all windows. The front door was locked. For what appeared to be around lunch time, there were no cars in the parking lot. Grace heard no clinking plates inside or smelled anything cooking.

The place looked empty, but Schrodinger would not leave. He held his gold scroll in his right paw. He raised his left in the air, as if meaning to wave. Then, he positioned himself so he sat on his haunches. The yellow-custard of his belly showed. It and the rest of his body was covered in jackalope wounds. The grimalkin moved shakily, but did not complain.

"I beckon you, neko," Schrodinger spoke clearly. He stared at the door while sitting with the disciplined poise of a statue. Nothing happened. He slunk a bit, proving a cat's natural state is at rest. "Neko, I beckon you." Still nothing happened. He glared at Bennu to stop the bird's loud fidgeting. "Look, cuz, I'm standing in the street, waving like an idiot. I'm tired, injured, and hungry, as are my friends."

The door opened with a bell ding. "The pass-phrase is 'I beckon you, neko-san.' Get that? 'San.' It's only polite." Another grimalkin (for she certainly was no mundane cat) pushed her way out, raising her left paw to mirror Schrodinger's. A second bell tinkled on her neck.

"Forget honorifics, Maneki." Schrodinger hissed and slumped onto his stomach. "We've fought a giant skunk and I don't know how many horned rabbits, and would prefer not to wait for a table."

Maneki nodded to the rest of the companions. The Murder shied away from her, preferring the wavy roof. "I was setting out food, anyway. Don't know what your friends specifically like, but luckily, it's a buffet. A smorgasbord, if you will."

For cousins, they did not much resemble each other. Schrodinger was a tabby while she was half-black, half-white. On her breast were two semicircles: a black dot in the middle of a larger white spot, fitting into a black spot with a white dot in its center. Even more distinct, her long tail forked into two tips. She yawned and walked inside.