Spice & Wolf I (25 page)

The tunnel was dark and clammy but still better than some of the alleys he’d walked down, which meant it was well-maintained.

This reassured Lawrence. The Milone Company was powerful.

“Ah, here it is.”

Lawrence heard the echoes of his splashing footfalls and realized he’d reached the end. He reached out and soon felt the wall.

A traveling merchant was used to being attacked by wild dogs on moonless roads. Lawrence was confident that if the worst happened and he had to run down this tunnel, he’d be able to find the wall.

Above and to the right, there was supposedly the warehouse of a general store with connections to the Medio Company. This was where Holo was being held. Directly above Lawrence was their temporary base of operations, and apparently they’d secretly constructed a path between the two.

The degree of preparation was chilling, but it might also have been built to facilitate the company’s expansion into other lands, Lawrence reminded himself.

A distant bell sounded from somewhere. It was the signal to open the marketplace. It was also the signal to begin the plan, so undoubtedly all hell was breaking loose above him. If they couldn’t free Holo in the time between now and the bell that signaled the beginning of work, they would be in real trouble—the general goods merchant would return to his warehouse.

He might have been a Medio protégé, but bills came due whether or not he was housing a hostage. Commerce never stopped, after all.

The problem was the number of people guarding Holo. If their opponents used too many people, it would be obvious to the Milone Company, but if they used too few, it wouldn’t be an effective guard. Lawrence hoped they had allocated people with the intention of keeping Holo’s location secret their top priority.

The more people there were, the worse the fight would be. The attackers wouldn’t be holding ropes and blindfolds, but edged weapons and clubs.

This would further complicate an already difficult situation, and Lawrence desperately wanted to avoid that.

Lawrence wondered how much time had passed while he’d been thinking. He was calm initially, but his legs now shook enough to splash the water around him. He was deeply troubled. He tried to calm his trembling legs, to no avail.

He tried stretching, but it only exacerbated his worry and made his heart pound harder.

He looked up, hoping the trapdoor above him would open soon.

Suddenly he froze, stricken with fear.

Had he come to the wrong place?

“S-surely not,” he answered himself, making sure that it was the correct dead end.

Just then, he heard a voice above him.

“Racche,” it said, immediately followed by the sound of floorboards cracking free of a foundation.

“Racche,” said the voice again, to which Lawrence said, “Numai!” “Pireon,” came the reply, along with a blaze of light as the floorboards slid aside.

“Holo!” exclaimed Lawrence in spite of himself when he saw her face.

Unmoved, Holo said something to the person standing next to her. She looked back down at Lawrence.

“How am I to get down there if you don’t make way?”

It wouldn’t be wrong to say Holo was her usual self, but when he heard her speak, Lawrence realized he wanted to see her happy face and hear her lively voice.

He did as Holo suggested and stepped aside, waiting for her to descend—yet what filled his heart was not satisfaction at seeing her face, but rather disappointment at missing her joyful voice.

Of course, he knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking and said nothing, but once Holo descended and looked up to receive a bundle from above, paying him not the slightest heed, the discontent in his heart grew stronger.

“What are you daydreaming about? Here, this is for you. Take it, and let’s go.”

“Wha - oh.”

Lawrence held the bundle that was shoved at him and headed down the tunnel as if pushed. Something jingled in the bundle they must have stolen some valuables to give the appearance of thieves. Soon another person descended from the trapdoor, whereupon it shut. The tunnel was completely dark again. That was the signal to move. Lawrence said nothing to Holo and began walking.

They would turn right at the end of the passage, feeling along the left-hand wall until reaching its end. They would then climb out of the tunnel and into the carriage that awaited them there to be taken to another underground passage.

Walking the tunnel wordlessly, they finally reached then destination.

Lawrence climbed the ladder that had been prepared and knocked three times against the ceiling.

If the escort failed to make the rendezvous, they would have to take a different route—but just as the possibility crossed Lawrence’s mind, a hole opened in the ceiling, and immediately above it sat the carriage.

After confirming each other’s identities with an exchange of “Pireon,” and “Numai,” Lawrence crawled up into the carriage.

“Looks like you made it safely,” said the Milone employee as he pulled Holo up. He was understandably surprised to see her wolf ears. “Business is full of surprises,” he said with a smile, sliding the large cobblestone back into its original position.

“There was another with us,” said Lawrence.

“He’ll be collecting the ladder and emerging elsewhere,” said the employee. “Once he’s delivered the information about those Medio rascals to our friends, he’ll leave the city.”

The almost frightening efficiency was due to their daily execution and refinement of plans and counter plans. Once the employee replaced the carriage floorboards, he said a quick “good luck to you” and took Lawrence and Holo’s bundles before exiting the cart. At the employee’s signal, the driver started the carriage moving. So far, everything was going according to plan.

Everything except for Holo’s reaction, that is.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” was all Lawrence could manage. He could say no more to Holo, who sat opposite him, unfolding a strip of cloth that had been around her neck in an attempt to cover her ears.

She only replied after finishing a few adjustments to the fit of her makeshift hood. “It’s good that I’m all right, is it?”

Lawrence wanted to say yes, but the words caught in his throat. Holo was glaring at him as if she were about to bite his head off.

Perhaps she
wasn’t
well.

“Say my name, then!”

If she could shout like that, she wasn’t in the condition Lawrence feared. Still, her vehemence made her seem twice her normal size, and he flinched at it.

“Uh...Holo?”

“Holo the Wisewolf!”

It sounded almost like a threatening growl, but Lawrence had no idea what she was angry about. If she wanted an apology, he was ready to apologize a hundred times over. She’d been a decoy for him, after all.

Or had something happened to her that she couldn’t say?

“I can remember every single person that’s ever shamed me in my life. And now I must add another name to that list. Yours!”

Something
had
happened to her. Still, her anger seemed different from the manner of girls he’d seen in villages that had been taken by thugs or brigands. And if he said something foolish, it would only be throwing oil on the fire of her rage.

Thus the silence grew longer; and perhaps the silence itself began to irk her because she rose from her seat and closed in on Lawrence.

Her white, clenched fists trembled.

There was nowhere for Lawrence to run. Holo stood directly in front of him.

Their heads were at the same height, which lent Holo’s level gaze an incredibly penetrating quality. She opened her small fists and grabbed the chest of Lawrence’s shirt. Her strength matched her appearance—Lawrence hadn’t imagined her grip would be so weak.

Again he noticed how long her eyelashes were.

“You told me, didn’t you—you told me you’d come for me.”

Lawrence nodded.

“And I...I utterly believed that you would come...grrh...just thinking about it is infuriating!”

Just then, Lawrence came to a sharp realization, as if waking from a dream.

“You’re a man, aren’t you? You should’ve been in the front, fighting tooth and nail! But you were in that hole in the ground—you let me make a fool of myself—”

“But you’re unhurt, right?” asked Lawrence, interrupting her. Holo sneered at him, displeased.

She hesitated for some time before finally nodding, as if forced to drink something very unpleasant.

Holo had probably been blindfolded. She may have mistaken whoever came to her aid for Lawrence and said something meant for him alone. That was probably why she felt—and blamed him for—such needless shame.

The realization made Lawrence happy. He knew that if he’d been the one to rescue her, she would have shown the expression he longed to see.

Slowly putting his arms around Holo, who was still gripping his shirt, he drew her closer. Holo resisted a bit, irritated, but soon relented. The once angry-looking ears that were clearly visible underneath her makeshift hood now drooped. A mildly sulky expression replaced her original anger.

Though he might travel the world and amass a great fortune, the one thing Lawrence could never have was right here.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” he said.

The eyes that had flashed in anger only a moment earlier threatened to close. Holo nodded, her lips slightly pouting.

“So long as you carry that wheat with you, I’ll not die.” Holo poked his breast pocket without moving his arms away. “For a girl, there is a kind of suffering no easier than death.”

Lawrence took Holo’s hand, and Holo drew near to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He felt her weight intensely, heavier than a burlap sack full of wheat.

“Heh. I’m so lovely that even human males fall for me. Not that a one of them is fit to be my mate,” said Holo mischievously.

When she finally released Lawrence, she wore her usual grin. “If they tried to touch me, I’d just remind them that they might lose a limb, or worse—they’d pale at that, oh yes! Hee-hee-hee," she chuckled, her sharp fangs visible behind her pink lips. It was true; anyone would falter at such a sight.

“But there was an exception,” she added, her delight vanishing. This was a new anger, a quiet anger, Lawrence thought.

“Who do you think was there among those who captured me?”