Chapter Text
In the great iron vessel, there was a prison. In that prison, there was a cell. In that cell sat a boy with a chain around his ankle. The skin around his ankle was rubbed red and raw, fresh meat, and blood steadily dripped into a pool on the floor. The rusty red smeared on the iron floor like paint, and he drew pictures with it to pass the time.
The boy didn’t know how long he’d been down there. Maybe hours, maybe months.
His shaggy brown hair hid his eyes, but his face was of terror. Over time, his cheeks collected crusted red erased by salt and water in rivers. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone came. But no one was coming to save him.
The boy couldn’t remember the last time he ate. Or drank. His throat was dried shut. Still though, he opened his mouth.
His voice was cracked and faint, but he pushed out two words, knowing no one could hear.
HELP ME!
~~~
I wrenched my eyes open, a cold sweat freezing me alive as I tried to banish the vision of the boy from my mind. Just a dream. Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. It was nothing. Nothing but my imagination playing tricks on me, as it so often did at night.
The darkness of the room swam in my vision like ripples on water. I fumbled blindly for the lighter on my bedside table and lit the candle by my bed.
I glanced over at a wristwatch I’d found in the Guest Area after one of the yearly feasts. Its face was only a little smaller than my own head. I heard it ticking, ticking, and if I put my ear to it, I could faintly hear a fragile buzzing, as if a tiny bug were trapped within it. I’d figured out, with a little help from Roger the Janitor, that it was a crystal that helped the watch keep the time right.
And keep the time right it did, though I sometimes didn’t like it. The wristwatch said it was 4:35 in the morning.
I sighed, knowing it was still early enough that I really should be getting more sleep. I plonked my head back onto my pillow and scrunched my eyes shut, but all I saw was the boy in my dream. His frightened face, the iron on his ankle rubbing round and round until it bled, blood drip drip dripping on the damp floor of the cell he was trapped in—
Focus on the sea, Rain. I told myself. Feel the dip and sway of the sea.
The sea, the deep sea I’d only seen through windows. I float on a boat on the waves, but should I dive beneath them, I will find the Maw. The metal hull of the Maw and a window and in the window was the boy—
With a whine of frustration, I tossed my sheets off my tiny bed and onto the floor. I checked the time again. 4:43am. It only took like, eight minutes before the dream invaded my thoughts again.
Maybe a walk would help – just go make a round of the library and then go back to bed and sleep. I’d cast the image of the boy out of my room. Shaking my tangled hair, I put on my dressing gown and took the old lighter Okaasan gave me, and went through the door to my room.
It opened up into…the rest of my room. Or at least, the room I would grow into. “Children don’t stay small forever.” Okaasan had once told me. I’d never actually met another child other than the shadow kids, who never grew at all. I supposed if Okaasan had once been a child like me, she must have grown a lot to become as tall as she now was. Now she towered over most of the guests, elegant and serene, the perfect hostess.
The massive door of the-rest-of-my-room was slightly ajar – it was never closed, since I couldn’t open it on my own. Well…I could, but it was a hassle. I had to drag the chair from the-rest-of-my-room over to the door, and then stack an assortment of other items into some sort of demented tower to reach the knob to turn it. It would have been easier if it was a lever handle, but it wasn’t. The hinges of the door creaked a little as I squeezed through the gap into the Residence.
The Residence was in darkness – I could hear the whispers of the shadow children as I stepped out into the hall, the tiny lighter aflame. It cast an uneven orange glow onto the floorboards - dark, flickering shadows between.
I saw the white masks peek from behind furniture, whispering, always whispering. I ignored them, making my way through the mauve-carpeted hall into the atrium. My feet made a soft pattering as I walked, like rain on a window. Like…Rain. Heh.
I rounded the stairwell, across the carpet and into one of the library rooms. Filled with books, with some littering the floor. Okaasan must have locked the secret door again. I ignored the key-books on the floor and pulled a book at random from the shelf, opening it to its first page.
The Rigmarole of Veronica. One of my favourites. When I was younger, Okaasan had read it aloud to me until I was old enough to read it on my own. Despite being a book supposedly made for children, it was monstrously heavy and even now, at the age of eleven, I could barely carry it. Steeling my resolve, I bent down and lifted The Rigmarole of Veronica, determined to bring it to my room.
I promptly fell over.
I lay on the floor, half-crushed by a book, contemplating my vaguely irritating situation when I heard a click. A click? I kicked the book off my chest and swung round to look for the source.
“B̶͈̟̍͐͌̓o̸̯̕ǫ̶͔͍͍͆̎̂͝k̸̞͉̽̿s̵̳̳̊͋h̶̡̙͖̥̽̇̿é̷̢̹̦͑̌l̷̢̥͈̬̾f̴͎̉̽.” I swung around again, catching a glimpse of a dark cloud and white mask. A shadow kid.
“Bookshelf?” I repeated dumbly, glancing at my surroundings. “This room is nothing but bookshelves.”
“S̸̨̟̃̇e̸̡͍̿͌c̵̣͊͑͊ř̸̢͍̞͋e̶̩̗̔̈t̸̬͆̑ ̷͕͙͂͘̚d̸̤̮̽̚o̵̡͠ò̸͍̜̀̈r̴̨̺͌͌́.” the shadow kid hissed, a hint of exasperation in their voice.
Oh. Right.
I felt every groove of the wood and every fibre of the carpet as I crept towards the secret door. Sure enough, it was open, creaking with the sway of the sea beneath us. The key-books still lay scattered on the floor, and a cold sinking feeling flooded my being as I realised:
Someone was in the hidden room.
It’s probably just Okaasan, I told myself. But she was never up this early. So…an intruder? I bristled at the thought of a stranger invading my home. Sure, the guests were strangers, but they were never allowed in the Residence. No one was. No one, except me and Okaasan.
Reaching into the pocket of my nightgown, I brought out the lighter and lit it, my one and only weapon. Its orange glow, usually so warm and welcoming, took on a more dangerous glint as I stalked towards the door, weapon in hand, ready to face the intruder.
I wrenched the bookshelf aside with all my strength, brandishing the lighter at…
Nothing.
The room was empty.
Everything was in its proper place – the bookshelf, the books, the table too big and the chair too small. Even the wooden carving of a lady was unmoved.
I could feel my face fall. There was nothing at all. A rush of pink came to my cheeks at the sound of the shadow kid giggling.
“It’s not that funny!” I snapped shakily. “It’s four in the morning…”
I trailed off my retort, and the shadow kid howled in laughter. They ran off, no doubt going to tell all their friends about how Rain, Daughter of the Lady of the Maw, scared herself with a bookshelf at four in the morning.
Of course it was nothing. No one could get into the Residence without Okaasan knowing. If there was an intruder, she would take care of it before I even knew it was there. Cursing my paranoia, I turned to leave.
“You’re up early.”
I jumped, almost dropping the still-burning lighter. I so easily forgot how Okaasan could melt into the shadows at a whim.
“Okaasan!” I yelped, spinning round to see her sitting serenely on the chair, a book in her hands. The Rigmarole of Veronica.
“Good morning, Rain,” she said, and I could hear her smiling behind the pristine porcelain mask that covered her face. Even in the Residence, I rarely saw Okaasan without her mask, except when we were eating, of course.
Okaasan leaned down, extending a hand for me. I hurried over and she lifted me clear of the ground, bringing her hands to her lap in a sort of platform. Settling down, I looked up at the empty eyes of Okaasan’s mask, before deciding to focus on one of her fingers instead. Bigger than my head, often hidden by the sleeves of her kimono. Smooth and cool like her mask, yet so safe and inviting. Okaasan stroked my tangled hair with one finger while I clung to her pinkie like a nome.
“Is there any reason you’re up so early, Rain-chan?” Okaasan asked.
“I…” I hesitated, looking for the right words. “I woke up early. Couldn’t get back to sleep.” It was partially true, at least. The dream I’d had kept swirling around in my mind, refusing to let me rest. Okaasan didn’t need to know the reason why.
Okaasan’s mask remained unchanged, but I could practically feel the scepticism radiating from her hidden face.
“Is that all?” she prodded. I frowned. When I said nothing, she chuckled. “Rain, did you have another nightmare?” She said it lightly, but there was an undercurrent of concern in her voice. Not being able to read her face most of the time had resulted in me being very good at reading her voice. She’d seen through me like glass.
The jig was up. I knew that much. “They’re not nightmares, Okaasan,” I told her. “But yes. I did.”
“Hmm,” she hummed. “Shall I call the chefs for breakfast, and you can tell me about it over breakfast?”
“…Okay,” I mumbled. She stood, still holding me in her hands, and the bookshelf door swung shut as she left. The Residence, having been in a state of hibernation overnight, lit up at her passing, the dim lights shining brighter as Okaasan seemed to glide down the stairs.
Once, I had asked Okaasan how she came to be so graceful, seeming to glide instead of walk. She had simply smiled and told me ‘Practice’. I didn’t believe it was that simple, even then. No matter how much I practiced, I seemed like a clomping guest compared to her. The older I got, the more I was convinced that magic was involved somehow.
Okaasan, having rang the bell to tell the chefs to make us food, set me down on her dresser. I settled, back facing her, while she extracted a tiny comb from her drawer. It was made for her dolls, but it was also me-sized, and she used it to brush my hair. It seemed to bring her some kind of comfort to brush my hair, though I wasn’t sure why. In any case, I felt the same way, and with the amount of hair I had to wrangle every morning it was nice to have her take care of it every now and then.
She didn’t say anything, only humming the simple melody she often sang while lost in thought. Once, when she was sitting alone, staring into space, I’d asked her what she was thinking about. She had spun round in shock, almost strangling me with her powers before she realised it was just me. After that incident, we had figured out a system; if she was lost in thought, I should hum the melody as well, slightly overlapping the sound until she realised I was there.
As she brushed, I let my mind wander, until it inevitably had me contemplating my dream. It was just a dream. Just a little nightmare. It was silly that it bothered me so much. Sometimes I dreamt of a world where children were almost as big as adults. Ridiculous. Most of the time, I dreamt of an old mansion, of another girl wearing my raincoat, of nomes. All normal things, though the recurring nature of some of them were rather odd.
But there was something about this latest dream, something that felt more…real than most of the others. Something closer to home. Closer to here. Something I was meant to do. I could dismiss it as silly all I wanted, but the truth was, I was terrified.
Terrified that somewhere, in the depths of the Maw, there really was a boy in chains, crying for help.
~~~~~
“So, tell me about this nightmare of yours, Rain-chan,” Okaasan said, her chopsticks lifting a clump of steamed rice to her lips.
We sat facing each other, a low table between us. I say low, but it was really about my height – I knelt on an elevated seat so I could reach. My long chestnut-brown hair was properly brushed and tied in a single neat plait, and I’d changed out of my nightgown. Most of the time I just wore a simple white dress under my raincoat… A raincoat which I couldn’t wear at breakfast, so at Okaasan’s suggestion I’d elected to dress in the sunny floral yukata I now wore. The pattern didn’t compliment my swirling thoughts, but it did help to lift my spirits, at least a little.
The food lay out on the table – a ramekin of rice and thimble of soup for me, and the same thing scaled up for Okaasan.
Okaasan’s mask lay beside her, allowing me to see her true face. It was the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, though I suppose I hadn’t seen many other faces. The mask was a ceremonial thing – I never had understood why she wore it almost constantly.
I twirled my chopsticks in thought, earning a frown from Okaasan, but she didn’t comment.
“I said it wasn’t a nightmare, Okaasan,” I said finally.
“But it is bothering you?” She phrased it like it was a question.
I let out a short sigh. “I saw the Maw from the outside, and in the depths, I saw…a boy.”
“A boy?” Okaasan almost snorted.
“Another child, like me,” I clarified quickly. “He was in a prison cell, with a chain around his ankle, and he was calling for help.”
“What did he look like?” Okaasan asked, a sharpness in her voice that wasn’t there before. Maybe she had had the dream as well?
“He had very dark brown hair that covered his eyes, and wore a blue jumper.”
Okaasan’s face took on an expression I didn’t quite recognise. Downside of not seeing her face most of the time. I swallowed, then took the plunge.
“Okaasan, you said that you used to have visions of the future. You said that I inherited your powers, and someday they would wake up, you said.”
“Awaken,” She corrected.
“That someday they would awaken. What if this is it?”
Okaasan said nothing.
“I think it might not just be a dream. That somewhere in the Maw’s depths, there actually is a boy. Who needs help. I want to go and check. I want to find this child.”
Still not a word passed her lips. Without having learned to read her face, she was a mystery until she spoke. “I really think—” I began, but Okaasan held up a hand.
“Rain, sometimes dreams are just that – dreams.”
“But—”
“You are not to go looking in the Maw’s depths. If there was a child imprisoned down there, I would know about it.”
“But Okaasan, what if it’s real? I need to know for sure!”
“I would know about it,” she said evenly. “Do not let this bother you, Rain.”
I crossed my arms. Okaasan stared in disapproval.
~~~~~
We finished the rest of breakfast in silence, before I was allowed back to my room. Ignoring the great space of the-rest-of-my-room, I went to my room. I donned my usual white dress, and took my bright yellow raincoat from its place of honour on a hook by the door. I stuffed the lighter and some day-old bread into my pockets and set off. I didn’t have any lessons today.
I took the elevator down to the Guest Area by way of ‘loud can thrown at button’ walked along the empty tables. The main room of the Guest Area had hundreds of tables, along with a door to the outside. It had never opened for me.
A few years ago, I’d spent an entire afternoon pounding on that door, begging it to open, but it never did. Okaasan found me bawling at the foot of the stairs, and she explained it only opened at the will of the Mistress of the Maw. At a flick of her hand, the door rumbled open, showing a light so bright it hurt my eyes. Okaasan told me it wasn’t safe outside the Maw, which was why the door stayed shut.
So now I didn’t bother with the door. It wouldn’t open for me anyway.
I did bother with the hundreds of holes in the walls, where the Nomes hid. They had hidey-holes all over the Maw. If anyone knew how to get down to the Depths, they would.
“I’m sorry Okaasan,” I whispered, as I squeezed through a gap in the wall. “I have to know.”