The Wings of Dreams

protects people traveling into the Yellow Sea.”
    Gankyuu selected two more pieces of the weathered wood for himself and the haku. The black ink was faded and worn. Travelers who returned safely from the Yellow Sea expressed their thanks by leaving the talisman here. An old talisman was one that had protected its wearer for a long time. Experienced hands always chose the old over the new.
    Shushou looked back at the shrine. That statue is supposed to be Kenrou Shinkun? “Never heard of him.”
    “Don’t be rude. He’s the only person you can absolutely rely on in the Yellow Sea.”
    “Aren’t there plenty of gods about?”
    “The Yellow Sea is a place abandoned even by the gods. The only person who will come to save you is Shinkun.”
    “Huh,” said Shushou.
    Silence swept across the plaza, following by the low sound of a drum. The Earth Gate was about to open.

Chapter 11
    [2-3]  T he base of the Kongou Range that encircled the Yellow Sea was much broader than any of the other mountains whose summits jutted through the Sea of Clouds. The wide road cutting through the soaring wall of rock had to cover an equally long distance.
    When the Earth Gate opened, the vast canyon threading beneath the canyon peaks—perched so close together at times they appeared to be sculpted out of stone—would continue on.
    From the Earth Gate, the canyon walls gradually rose to the level of the cliffs. Winding and twisting along the bottom of the deep ravine, the road rose too, though the illusion presented to the eye was that of it sinking down into oblivion.
    At six hundred yards wide, the canyon road could accommodate a line of mounted cavalry coming and going. With the soldiers bound for the fort at the lead, the people in the plaza hurried towards the Yellow Sea.
    Wisps of clouds lingered here and there along the way and on the bare rock walls on either side. There was no wind and no warmth to disperse in any case.
    The sun of the Spring Equinox was shadowed by the Kongou Mountains before them. The predawn darkness continued on and on. As the canyon deepened, stretching out like a winding river above them, the sky began to turn. The first faint rays of sunlight had barely brushed the ridgelines when the throngs striding along the valley floor in two and threes came to a halt and raised their voices.
    An enormous gate blocked the way. It seemed to lean inwards, though that impression was due only to its overwhelming size.
    The gate had two stories. The first was hewn from a uniform slab of rock. Tightly shut before them, the red lacquer doors set into the slab rose dozens of times higher than an ordinary person.
    Atop the second story, vermillion columns roofed with green tile seemed to punch holes in the sky. There was a smaller gate in the center. It had no doors. Above this gate was a placard on which was written in black ink and gold leaf: “ Reiken Gate. ”
    “That is—” Shushou said in a small voice. “That is a picture of a youma.”
    The strange figure of a youma or a similar magical beast was engraved into the red doors of the gate. It had the body of a dragon and a great span of wings.
    “That is the sacred beast that guards the Reiken Gate. Tenhaku.”
    However high the Reiken Gate was, a humble pegasus could fly over it. Then there was that open gate in the second story, and the open sky above. But Tenhaku lived atop those soaring columns. Anyone who tried to enter the Yellow Sea in violation of the law would be struck down by lightning, their soul snatched and devoured.
    Shushou listened to Gankyuu’s explanation as she solemnly strode forward, looking up at the huge gate. The rest of the people facing the Reiken Gate sank into a heavy silence. They came to a halt in front of the gate. The tension was palatable.
    The terraced sentry posts chiseled into the ledges of the steep cliffs in front of the gates were unoccupied. The gates opened at noon. There was still time. The taut atmosphere filled the canyon.
    A roar rang out from the tops of the tall columns, soft and low and yet shaking the depths of the air. The kind of sound that seemed to reverberate forever. Less a roar than a growl. People cast fearful glances around them. A fretful murmur shot through the crowd. The timber changed, the growl matching the murmur and continuing on.
    “What—” Shushou said in a small voice.
    “The voice of Tenhaku,” Gankyuu said. He pointed up at gate in the upper story. “It’s okay. Look.”
    There was