I'm brought to a room that is so staggering, for a moment I forget my predicament and gawk. In a way, it's like a large-scale version of the bamboo slat library I normally see around Ilmu in her natural form. And yet, it's so much more than that.
The ceiling arches impossibly high overhead, a delicate network of wooden beams that cross each other like a more complex version of the skeleton of a traditional Japanese paper umbrella.
The room is circular and all along the walls are innumerable bamboo slats, some gathered and tied with a red ribbon, keeping their contents hidden, others dangling freely, the tiny black symbols etched upon their surfaces visible. One section houses what looks like slender wooden paddles also engraved with yet more symbols.
I have no concept of what these symbols represent and just how much knowledge and how many memories are contained in each record, but the room feels ancient, like it was standing before time began.
There’s a sense of worlds within worlds within worlds. Of the vastness of the memories contained.
I don’t often use the word awesome, but something about this room, simply furnished as it is, creates a real sense of awe.
Green orbs float a little bit higher than head height, diffusing a soft green light beneath them.
The librarian walks over to a low table, gracefully lowering herself to sit on her heels.
“Please take a seat.” It’s not an invitation but a command.
Not that I have much of a choice. The nure onna unceremoniously dumps me on the floor next to the table, her hair releasing me abruptly. I cough a couple of times and run my fingers along my throat to check for any cuts, but other than feeling a bit bruised and a bit damp, I'm fine.
I glare at the creature before sitting cross-legged at the table. There's obviously no point resisting.
“I need to know how you were able to enter our domain,” the librarian says.
Her human glamour shimmers and disappears, leaving me facing another baku in true form. She's larger than Ilmu, and the markings on her body are different, the tiger stripes of her leg reaching up past her shoulders before blending into the bear-like part of her body.
Where Ilmu looks shy and retiring in her true form, the librarian looks powerful and not particularly friendly. And she’s big enough that she probably could easily do me quite a lot of damage, if she felt so inclined.
“So. Tell me.” Her voice is deep, too deep for a woman. I suppose the acoustic of that larger rib cage is bound to have an impact on her voice.
“I was given incense by one of Meng Po's waitresses,” I tell her quickly. “She said it would enable me to see people who are no longer in our world. She told me to light the incense and think of the person I wanted to see, and I would see them. It worked, but then the nure onna appeared, reached out of the smoke, and pulled me in.”
The librarian’s head snaps sideways, glaring at the nure onna. The librarian lets out a few angry, guttural words. The nure onna shakes her head and replies something, then she turns and slithers out of the room.
“We will see if you speak the truth,” the librarian says, switching back to Panongian.
I feel a sharp spike of terror. “Don't consume my memories.” I’m not too proud to beg, not if it will save my memories.
The baku have never seemed like scary creatures before, but right now I’d rather face Yue.
The librarian cocks her head, her large eyes regarding me. “Remember how you came here. And be aware that I can tell the difference between a true memory and a fake mental picture. If you attempt to trick me, I will devour a lot more than the memories of how you came to be here.”
I shake my head. “Surely there must be another way.”
“Remember!” Her voice booms, echoing in the large space, making me jump.
I swallow around the hard lump that has formed in my throat. The baku’s eyes are cold and dark within the elephant skin of her head.
Not wanting her to carry out her threat to devour more than the memory of how I came here, I close my eyes and remember. I remember how the waitress gave me the incense, how she told me to think of Ilmu. Then I remember being at my house, and lighting the incense stick. The way the smoke coiled and then parted to reveal Ilmu.
And then how the nure onna grabbed me, followed by the spike of panic when I realised she was bringing me into the smoke.
As I remember, it's like white space is following every memory. As I remember, I’m aware of it disappearing behind me, so I can't then look back to remember again. The memory is just… gone.
I open my eyes and gape at the librarian. I no longer have any clue of how I came to be here. I can remember waking up in Ilmu's room, clear as day, and I can remember deciding to go to see Meng Po with Tim. But the rest is…gone. Not unclear, not vaguely there. Just…gone.
“Hmm, so you told the truth.”
“Can you return my memories to me?” I ask. “Aren't baku able to regurgitate memories?” I don’t mention that Ilmu told me this in case it gets her in trouble.
“Quiet, or I will remove your memory of me consuming your memories so you will have no idea how they came to disappear.”
I gulp, keeping silent. My heart is pounding hard as the sheer power of a baku becomes horribly real. If she wants, she can wipe the slate clean. She could consume the memories I have of my parents, of Hunter, of Chai, of my house. She could leave me a complete amnesiac with no idea of who I am. And she doesn’t even have to touch me.
The nure onna returns then, followed by a slightly smaller one. To my untrained eye they look identical, down to their features, their slitted eyes and serpentine bodies, but the smaller one is hanging her head in a way that communicates shame or contrition.
The librarian lets out a stream of angry words and the contrite nure onna cringes. She replies, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.
The librarian makes a sound of disgust and waves her trunk, dismissing them both. The larger nure onna grabs a fistful of hair from the smaller one, making her wail. Then they slither out together.
“Younglings.” The librarian shakes her head and turns back to me. I’m not going to lie, I also feel like cringing under her stare. “Thank you for speaking the truth. Not only did what you say match your memories, but it also matched what the nure onna reported. I don’t know why she thought you smelt interesting…” The librarian pauses and considers me. “How did you meet Ilmu?” she asks. “You will show me, in your memories.”
“Can you just look at my memories without consuming them?”
“You can either bring up the memories of how you met Ilmu, or I can go searching for them, but that means I will consume a great deal more.”
My mouth goes paper-dry with panic. “Okay, Okay, wait. Just... Give me a moment. It's hard to think right now. Just…let me get my thoughts organised.”
All the moisture from my mouth seems to have relocated to my palms, which are sweating heavily. I wipe them on my shorts.
I need to be smart about this. Ilmu told me not to say anything about what I am, and given what the librarian is like, I am most definitely heeding that warning. Anyway, I have no memory of that very first, long ago meeting.
What I think of as meeting Ilmu is the first time I went to see her in her office.
But I still need to be careful. Make sure I bring up memories that will make it look like how we met was completely innocent.
“Okay, I'm ready.” I take a deep breath and bring up the first memory.
I feel my gut twist inside me at the knowledge that it will be consumed. I show the librarian my father as a professor in Panong University. Just one instance of seeing him in his office.
The awful white space from before follows the memory, wiping it out until I no longer know what I have just brought up. I continue forward, hoping I didn’t show anything too important.
I show the librarian me moving to Panong and not knowing anyone, followed by one of the many nights when I felt lonely and homesick. There were many of those.
Then I show her a part of the conversation with my father where he tells me about Ilmu, followed by me going to Ilmu's office at the University.
By the time we’re done, I know that I showed the librarian memories about how I met Ilmu, but I have absolutely no idea what that was. I have nothing left about our first meeting. I just know that I know her.
Not knowing the memories I’ve lost is terrifying. I know I have lost something but I don’t know what exactly. The one thing I cling to is that I know I had a plan for what to show the librarian, but I have no way of knowing if she took more than I wanted her to.
“Hmm, very good.” The librarian's eyes flutter as she turns her gaze inward. Then her eyes snap back to me. “I'll have you escorted back to Ilmu's room. I will have to decide what to do with you later.”