As he stood panting at a busy intersection, the soldiers coming nearer by the minute, he felt someone grab his arm. Before he could react, he was pulled along by a barefoot, scruffy boy who darted through the streets as easily as if they had been empty of inhabitants.
The boy never let go of Sheiji, though he shifted his hand to hold Sheiji’s. He led Sheiji down one street, through an alley and down a different street as if he had traveled this same path in frantic flight a thousand times. Several times they stopped, but only for a minute to listen for their pursuers.
Sheiji stared in wonderment as the boy scaled the wall of a house and sat grinning on the roof, which like most houses in Imatsuro, served as an extra living space. The boy motioned for Sheiji to follow. When he didn’t, the boy stretched out his hand and hauled Sheiji up. Then he ran across the roof and leapt the three feet that separated this house from the next.
Sheiji looked doubtfully at the gap, but did as the boy did. He barely reached the next house. The boy scoffed and continued on his running and leaping pattern across the row of houses. Sheiji followed reluctantly. They had lost their pursuers a long way back and by now the boy seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
Finally, Sheiji’s rescuer stopped and slipped through an impossibly small crack in the roof. Sheiji inserted his legs through the crack and let himself slip through. Before his flight from Taiyunyi, Sheiji would not possibly have fit, but now he slid through easily. He landed on the floor of the house with a thump, to the amusement of the boy who had saved Sheiji from the soldiers.
“Welcome to my abode!” the boy said grandly. He grinned gleefully.
Sheiji peered around the dark house. The door and windows were nailed tightly shut. The only light came from the crack in the roof above their heads.
“It was the home of a witch,” the boy said.
“A witch?” Sheiji asked, jumping up and backing away from the boy.
“Yes,” the boy replied indifferently. “But don’t worry. I’ve lived here a long time and nothing has happened to me yet. It’s all fool’s talk and stories to scare the children.”
Sheiji sat down nervously. After a minute he said, “Thank you for rescuing me. They would have caught me if you hadn’t helped me.”
“I’ll say!” the boy snorted. “What did you mean going up to a shopkeeper and grabbing cheese right from under his nose? Some might call it bravery, but I call it foolishness. You haven’t been on the street for very long, have you?”
“Not…not exactly,” Sheiji replied, hanging his head.
“Well, you either have or you haven’t. Which is it? And don’t hang your head like a criminal.”
“I haven’t,” Sheiji said. Then for good measure, he added, “And I haven’t eaten in five days.”
The boy laughed but his eyes held something of compassion, “Well, go ahead and eat your prize. I’m not stopping you.”
“Do you want some?” Sheiji offered him a mass of squished rice.
“Not in that state I don’t,” the boy answered smartly. “I’ll dare say you’re hungrier than I am, though.”
Sheiji ate his food, trying in vain to make it last. When he had finished, his stomach was only half full. After a moment of consideration, the boy took two peaches from his bulging sash—they were only slightly bruised—and offered one to Sheiji while he munched on the other.
“I can see you’re going to need someone to look after you for a while,” the boy said, thoughtfully sucking his peach. “Someone needs to make sure you get fed and clothed, and someone needs to keep you out of reach of the soldiers.”
“I can take care of myself,” Sheiji said sullenly.
“Sure you can. Fine, don’t bother with me. Go out there and get arrested by the soldiers and dragged to prison and maybe even let your neck decorate the gallows.”
“Well, maybe I do need your help,” Sheiji confessed.
The boy smiled, “And what do you have to give me in return?”
“What do I have?” Sheiji echoed. He could think of a million things he used to have: power, money, food; but all that was a part of his old life. All he had now was the clothes on his back and his coronation ring, as well as his two engagement rings.
“Yes, I can see you don’t have many worldly possessions, but what skills do you have?”
“I can read,” Sheiji offered hopefully.
“No good,” the boy replied. “What else? You don’t know how to steal, but can you work? Do you know any trades?”
“No.”
The boy sighed. “I guess I’ll have to take you on and hope something turns up. Now, what’s your name?”