Strong words

One their way toward north, Moore and Keith were bored.

Moore tried to dialogue from time to time during the trip.

"This girl, she deserved it. I wasn't supposed to end this way for sure. But you know, when you grow up, adults have tough business..."

Show's voice rang in Keith's head.

'You could ask him to save his saliva if you don't intend to talk with him.'

And Keith rebuked.

'He makes it less silent, it's fine for me. I got a question for you. Where did you put the head? In my belly? I still feel hungry. My stomach is so noisy it could answer Moore.'

'That's hard to explain. Consider it in the explanation, it is not a place where you can eat though. You'll have it back, when no one's around only. You'd need to get rid of him first.'

The landscape was nice to watch. A little bit slow at changing. But behind each hill there was a new plain. Some birds he did not see often, and plants he had never seen, but with the buffalo wasn't much of an athlete and had to stop after a few hours.

It was the longest trip Keith had ever done.

They were about a hundred meters high on a low slope. The path was barely visible as grass covered it partially, but the direction they took was always the same, they would use the sun's position to pinpoint it. Keith was curious about it and asked Moore how he knew where to go.

After all, 'north' was still a vague word for him, he barely remembered the two or three other directions.

Moore was not the best teacher, but he was glad Keith asked something.

"My parents always told me, 'look where the sun wakes, look where the sun sleeps, this land is no flat map but you'll find your way back home by going the opposite direction you sought your goal.' It was true years ago, and it's still true today. You can still see the marks left by the carriage's wheels but once the grass grows back, you must use the sun."

Keith remembered the sun, passing through his window in the morning only, his wasn't a perfect technique though. Sun had only one trajectory.

"What if it's night?"

Moore frowned and answered.

"Why would you travel at night? The landscape here is a bless! Plus night predators and the lack of light are common enemies. If my Buffy gets hurts, the carriage and the merchandise is done for."

Moore caressed the buffalo's rump.

Nor Keith nor Show knew much about orientation. But both could see well in the dark. The shadow asked Keith to push the question farther.

"Technically we're on the run. And what if we get separated by a night predator?"

After a sigh, Moore replied.

"If you want to travel day and night, you can refer to the moon, and if you can't find the moon then go for the stars. They may look harder to differentiate but they work the same way. The sky map as travellers calls it. The weightless tool."

'How much do you weight Mister Show?'

'I have never been at ease with this kind of question. But, you know, I can read between the lines, I am no tool. I am more of your master, your owner... This sort of thing.'

Under Keith's shirt, a hand, the size of his torso squeezed little by little, making the kid cough.

'What's up little one? You think because I want you alive, I can't play a little?'

The hand squeezed harder, he could feel nails... no claws cramping on his skin. Possibly the one from the thumb, going under his solar plexus. And four fingers, as thick as the branch of a tree, one sinking on his shoulder, three in his ribcage.

While Keith was gasping for air, Moore turned around and saw him struggling for no reason.

'You okay David?'

Keith's eyes fixed his, a blood-chilling sensation crawled on Moore's back.

"Hey!"

He moved next to Keith, the kid had almost blacked out. But the rough man gave Keith a hard slap on he back. His hand didn't encounter Show's grasp that vanished an instant earlier. The kid coughed a few times, then spoke.

"Would you believe me if I told you there's a monster as big as a room, as dark as night with teeth of ten men, hiding in my shirt?"

Moore's eyes widened, then he laughed out loud.

"No, I would surely be concerned about you more than this imaginary monster! That doesn't look like any animal I know. Where have you been to have such thing on your mind?"

Keith's face was perplex, telling the truth was pointless. Of course it was too big to be true.

The man remembered the so called 'magic trick'. He paid attention to Keith's shirt. Then to his clothes. Why wouldn't the shirt be as much worn out as its lower counterpart? Not much stains, a little stretched on a few places... Not a very good quality... Then it was certainly special!

Maybe his shirt was the source of the magic. How much money could he make with such thing! That would be sleeping in a mattress composed of women... Heavens!

He ignored the boy's silence and asked.

"David, would you sell me your shirt?"

Keith heard Mister Show's mocking voice in his head and he answered.

"No."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I would have no more shirt."

Well, that's a child's answer. Honest, straight. But Moore was a merchant, a good one at that.

"Let me ask you another way then. Why would I buy it?"

"To have a small sized shirt at your disposal."

"No of course! That way you could have some money for yourself! You can buy more clothes, or you can invest in tools to make even more money! Money is the sole thing you need in a city."

This was a fun scene to Show. The monster understood the situation, he would have as well understood Keith selling his shirt off just to have him offended. Yet the kid not knowing Moore's plan, he simply refused selling it by common sense.

'Listen for a moment...'

Show exposed Moore's most probable plan. He also explained why he was insisting doing business.

'We'll do our first plan together! You can sell the shirt when we arrive in the final city. You'd promise your approval at selling it as a reward. All we have to do is a few more 'magic tricks' to impress him and keep him at bay. That way, you get some money, a brand new shirt, and a free escort.'

Keith nodded unconsciously and proposed his deal to Moore, who accepted without much thinking about the time they'd spend on their trip.

---

Seoni, the same moment.

Picco and Yotoh went back on their way but couldn't find any trace of Randi. Still, the villager they had paid awaited. He spoke when he saw then arriving.

"He was so loud people began to gather in the alley. One of them called the village chief on my request, he was taken away."

The man parted ways with the two travellers as if he had never seen them. Picco and Yotoh went to see the village chief. Once they finished explaining the fact their investigation had led them here, the man let them interrogate Randi further. He even lend a few of his personal tools which remained unused because of Picco's respect toward other persons.

After two days of nothingness, Randi's eyes began to become cloudy. His skin on the shoulder was blistered and his face was pale. The bone that once formed a part of his elbow was black, dead. It fell on the ground while the two were next to him.

A high fever submerged his head and finally, the man spoke, as a putrid smell filled the room.

"He ate my finger... I wanted it back. May it grow back or may he vomit it. So I've been looking for him the whole time. Eating one's flesh is no small incident and... and deep inside I wanted to preserve his innocence. But this kid is a little devil, a descendant of his mother and another creature."

He caught his breath before continuing.

"It wasn't the first time I saw him, wandering outside at deep in the night. But this time, he had blood all over his face, over his hands. The light of my torch could barely brighten his eyes! I've already told you everything from my hole. I wasn't responsible of your daughter's end. He is. And for the last time. I don't know where's your Raima."

Yotoh was flabbergasted, Picco slightly less surprised. The little man asked.

"Why did you not talk about that earlier?"

"Because my life is slipping through my last 15 fingers. The bite he gave me plagued my whole body. I am not noseless, this foul-smelling gas coming out with each breath... My lungs doing their best at their job... they can't keep me awake for long, I'm afraid I'll leave this world once they fail me."

Picco who believed in magic's existence trusted Randi's words. If there was a devil to destroy, be it the mother or the child, then he'd do his best.

Yotoh fell to his knees. To him, it was because of sorcery he had lost Ublee. He had been looking for a scapegoat for so long. Now he had a chance not to have her back, but to avenge her. But the severed arm he had in front of him. The sound it made when the bone detached and hit the ground. That was unforgettable.

It was the highest infection he had ever witnessed, yet it took more than a whole season to kill its host.

Picco spoke, with a lower tone.

"Let's give a chance to this hypothesis. Raima is dead. We have no traces of her so far. Then the kid is going to Varanasi to find his father by himself. That's where he think Lorbe is."

To Yotoh, as long as he had a culprit, it was fine. His eyes were injected of blood because of fatigue. He nodded.