Athyst didn’t return that night, or the night after, or for the rest of the week. At first neither Bran nor Misha worried about it, the woman was an odd kind of bird, but after a few days Misha asked Bran about it.
"If she wants to co back, she can. If she doesn’t, then..." Bran shrugged.
"What if she can’t?" Misha asked, now fully invested in the conversation and not the herbalism book he was supposed to be reading.
"If we run into the problem, and can help resolve it, then we can try to, but otherwise, it’s best to leave it alone," Bran said evenly.
Misha didn’t protest but he also found it hard to agree - he was still a teenager after all and full of the self-righteous belief that he could and should save everyone. Bran could tell what was going on in his companion’s head so after a few minutes, he tapped his pen on Misha’s book to get his attention.
"If you want sothing more interesting to do, you can go check the Wishing Box."
"Okay," Misha imdiately replied.
It wasn’t very exciting to empty out ashes into a bag, but it was better than decoctions and infusions and whatever else.
When Misha had left, and had shut the door firmly behind him, Bran pulled out a small square of paper from his usual box of supplies then sat a mont with his uncapped fountain pen, thinking of how to phrase it.
In the end, he decided to keep it brief and to the point: Inquiry: gu-huo-niao "Athyst" Stork-type. Status?.
He regarded the ssage, blew lightly on the paper to help the ink dry, then folded the whole thing into a small paper crane. Then he rose and went to the open window and held the paper bird out of it.
A breeze ca and the paper twitched then remained still.
"C’mon," said Bran, shaking the bird a little. He’d have to rember to check the expiry date on the rest of the pack.
Finally, the little bird gave another twitch then flapped its wings.
"South Seas Departnt. Technician. Tuesday Kong."
The bird flapped its wings harder then spun out into the narrow space between the buildings and was away.
--
It was drizzling a little when I got to the Wishing Box, and I regretted not bringing an umbrella. Was it caused by my mood, I couldn’t be sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. I’d never been the clinging sort of person growing up, even after my parents divorced, yet now even Athyst’s disappearance made anxious.
I stepped under the awning of a shop and took a deep breath and tried to feel the rain with all of my being as a way to distract myself. My tail drooped and accidentally dipped itself into a puddle making a shiver go up my spine at the sudden wet coldness. I quickly gathered it up and tried to dry it with my t-shirt.
But as I tried to pat my tail dry, I saw soone dart out in the rain, head straight for the Wishing Box and stuff a bit of paper into the slot.
I looked a mont longer, tail forgotten, and saw that it wasn’t just any old ’soone’ but a soone that I knew!
"Coral!" I called out, also jogging out into the drizzle that was now becoming proper rain.
The girl jumped and looked around then spotted . She gave an embarrassed little smile.
"Hi Misha."
"You making a wish?" I asked.
She made an ambiguous gesture. "Yeah... Is that alright?"
"Of course it’s alright," I assured her. "I just didn’t know your family had a business."
"A business?" Coral asked, clearly confused.
"Oh, just...," I pointed at the box, "Most of the wishes we get are for good luck in business."
"Oh!" Coral smiled. I could tell that she would be a very beautiful won when she grew up but right now, she looked a little like a drowned rat. I probably didn’t look much better.
"We should get out of this rain..."
The rain was coming down rather heavily by the ti our drinks ca. Or rather, by the ti Coral’s drink ca. I’d taken one look at the nu and my eyeballs nearly rolled out of my skull after seeing the prices. It was a small, rather aesthetic cafe but its prices were sothing else.
"You sure you don’t want to order sothing?" Coral asked, taking a sip of her cappuccino. Or perhaps that’s just how expensive cafes are in Pearl City, and I just don’t know anything.
I quickly shook my head. "Nah, I’m taking a break from caffeine at the mont."
"Ah, a health-conscious hot guy," Coral said.
I laughed helplessly unsure how to dissuade this conversation direction. Luckily, I didn’t have to.
"Do you really grant wishes? Your boss and you?" Coral asked. It sounded like idle talk but there was a seriousness in her playful smile that told elsewise.
"We try," I hedged. "I’m not totally sure on the details of what we can and can’t do. You’d have to ask Bran about that."
Coral nodded then pulled out her phone and scrolled and tapped a little. Since I’d beco phone-less I’d beco a lot more sensitive to how much people use theirs, especially in the middle of conversations. It probably makes sound like an old person, but it irks .
"Have you heard of the San Hoi Ging?" Coral asked.
"Uh, I don’t think so." It sounded vaguely familiar but in that way that dreams feel familiar sotis.
"It’s a famous old book that’s like an encyclopedia of myths and ghosts and things like that."
That sounded even more familiar. "Does it have another na?" I asked.
Coral pouted as she thought. "Not really... I think it’s only called the San Hoi Ging, and Shan Hai Jing1 in Mandarin."
That was it.
"I have heard of it," I said. It was the book you like taking out for a bit of light reading every now and then.
--
"She’s looking for a book?" said Bran.
"Yeah," replied Misha.
"That’s..."
"Not sothing we can do?" offered Misha.
"I won’t say we can’t but... isn’t it easier to just buy a copy online? Or go to a bookstore? lody’s parents run one, can’t they just order one in?"
Misha had to agree. "I didn’t give her a definitive answer," said Misha, "but I got her wish from the box later."
He pulled a crumpled bit of paper from his pocket and flattened it out for Bran on the coffee table.
Bran picked it up and sighed as he squinted at it.
"Sothing wrong?" asked Misha.
"Handwriting’s really hard to read," said Bran, putting the paper back down. "But the book she’s looking for is the Shan Hai Jing."
"She called it the, uh, San Hoi Ging? Is that the Cantonese na?"
Bran nodded. "You can buy a copy from nearly any bookstore. Take a look." He pulled a book out from under the table and slid it to Misha.
Misha took it and opened it.
He couldn’t read any of it but the grided layout and pictures really did make it look like an encyclopedia of the weird and wonderful - on one page there was a nine-headed tiger, on another, a pair of birds both with only a single wing, eye, and leg each. It was intriguing and another ti he would have spent so good amount ti flipping through it but now was not that ti.
"Are we going to do the job?" he asked.
Bran cocked his head to one side. "You decide," he said.
Surprised, it took Misha a mont to react. "Oh, uh..." The mory of Coral in the cafe and that strangely serious expression on her face flashed across his mind. "I think it’s worthwhile trying," he said.
A smile curled at the corner of Bran’s mouth.
"No," said Misha quickly before Bran could say anything. "It’s not because I like her, okay. I just think it’s kind of odd for her to be looking for it, plus..."
"Plus?"
"I don’t know. I just feel like sothing’s going on."
Bran nodded slowly and looked at the scrap of paper again. "It’s odd, this."
"What, the words?" asked Misha.
"No, the paper. It was torn from sothing," said Bran.
"And...?"
"Normally, people will be quite formal about it - find a nice piece of paper, write it out neatly in the middle, maybe do it in pencil first, all that - there’s a kind of innate understanding that this shows that you’re... earnest about your request. This, on the other hand," he held up the paper, "I think that ans she either had to write it in a hurry or just suddenly had the urge to do so."
"So... what now? Do we go find Coral then...?" asked Misha.
"We can do that, but first I want to get soone to read the rest of this note. This handwriting... honestly, kids these days..."
山海经
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