Chapter 9: On the Treasure Hunt

Archil and Teresa walked through a narrow alley in the northern residential district of the city. The exuberant festivities of the Autumn Evening Festival had drawn away most of the townsfolk, leaving the neighborhood uncommonly quiet. Their light footsteps echoed faintly on the flagstone path, a delicate sound in the stillness.

Perhaps finding the silence too profound, Archil fiddled with the slip of paper in his hand and began to explain their current destination to Teresa. "Juna is Lady Mana's cat, twelve years old and with a terrible temper. Other than Lady Mana, it scratches anyone who comes near. And, it loves to steal fish—only if it steals it itself will it eat it; if anyone else tries to feed it, it flatly refuses. So, I’m guessing this 'most detestable Juna' must be referring to that cat."

"Juna is a cat? That makes sense," Teresa said, enlightened. "I was thinking, if it referred to a person, wouldn’t that be far too hurtful?"

"It could never mean a person," Archil replied with a laugh. "When you see a clue like this, it's usually an animal, or sometimes a figure from a local proverb or old town legend. Of course, if the organizers want to be even trickier, sometimes even a tree's name has become a clue."

"Naming a tree? That’s too odd," Teresa exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"There are plenty of strange things. When the treasure hunt festival first started, the clues were pretty straightforward. In recent years, they've even dug up old street names and places from city history. Without some knowledge and skill, you really can't manage it nowadays." Archil gestured animatedly, his face alight with excitement as he shared tales of his past adventures in the hunt.

Joking and chatting, they arrived at an unremarkable little house. The wooden door stood ajar, and the dirt path before it was covered with the faint prints of many feet, evidence that plenty had entered and exited today. Archil knocked gently; though he didn't seem to use much force, the door slid open under his touch, revealing an entry hall bathed in sunlight from the window. In the golden light, an old lady sat slowly rocking in her chair, a thin blanket draped across her knees, and atop the blanket sprawled a large, fat cat. As the two paused at the threshold, the cat meowed sharply, stood on the blanket, and assumed a posture ready to strike.

"Good day, Madam Mana, sorry to disturb you," Archil called politely from a distance, offering a respectful bow to the elderly lady.

About half a minute passed before the old woman, who had appeared half-asleep, roused herself. With a gnarled hand, she patted the fat cat’s head, muttered something indistinct, and finally regarded Archil and Teresa. "Ah, you two young ones are after the commemorative badge as well, aren’t you? The usual rule applies. Whoever can make Juna happy gets the badge."

Upon hearing the requirement, Teresa instinctively focused on the fat cat. Their matching green eyes met, and the cat immediately hissed, fur bristling with clear hostility. Teresa, who had never owned a pet, was at a loss—how did one win the favor of a cat, especially such a notoriously ill-tempered old one?

Archil didn’t leave her in distress for long. He reached into his pockets and rummaged about, finally producing several foxtail grasses they had picked along the way outside a house. Under Teresa’s puzzled gaze, he twisted them into rings, then approached the fat cat and deftly slipped the foxtail rings onto its tail—seven or eight in a row.

"Meowww~" The fat cat meowed again, but this time the sound was drawn out, docile and almost sweet. Teresa felt a chill run through her at the transformation, her skin prickling.

"Heh heh, you were well aware of Juna’s tastes, weren’t you?" The old woman beamed, her eyes crinkling in delight as the cat purred contentedly—her affection for the creature was plain.

With the cat pleased, the badge was easily won. Archil and Teresa left the house, gently closing the door as instructed. Just as they stepped out of the yard, a boy of about fourteen or fifteen appeared, seemingly on his way in. The three nearly collided, each pausing in surprise.

"Hmph!" Two disdainful snorts sounded at once; it was clear that Archil and the newcomer were far from fond of one another.

"So it’s you—Aubryon’s brat. Seems you got lucky this time and beat me here," the boy sneered before Archil’s fist came flying at him. Dodging awkwardly, the boy retaliated, and soon the two were locked in a flurry of fists and kicks.

Teresa, pushed back into the yard by Archil, barely regained her balance before she saw the two boys wrestling on the ground. She frowned slightly, but wasn’t particularly surprised; instead, she watched calmly for a while and soon noticed that, although they fought fiercely, neither was using battle energy, relying only on brute strength. Relieved, she let out a quiet sigh.

The scuffle lasted about three minutes before Archil seized an opening, grabbed the other boy’s collar, and with a swift throw, slammed him to the ground. Clambering atop him, he held him down, both boys breathing heavily.

Archil pressed the boy’s face into the dirt, grinding it in with a rough twist, his tone menacing. "If you dare call me a brat again, I swear I’ll beat you every time I see you!"

As he spoke, his hands twisted in a practiced manner, and at last the stubborn, silent boy gave a muffled grunt of pain, his exposed cheek contorting.

Punishment finished, Archil released him, got to his feet, and rubbed his face, trying to dispel his stern expression before sheepishly joining Teresa. Tugging her sleeve, he said, "Tess, I hope I didn’t frighten you. I didn’t expect to run into those guys today—sorry if I spoiled your mood."

Teresa glanced at the boy still sprawled on the ground, then at Archil, who looked both guilty and pleading. She parted her lips as if to speak, but said nothing, only shook her head, took his hand, and led him past the boy and out of the yard.

Long after they had left, the boy Archil had floored twitched slightly, then slowly dragged himself upright, swaying from the pain in his body—a testament to the ferocity of Archil’s blows. Gathering himself, he stared after the two who had disappeared, his gaze dark and spiteful. He licked his split lip, the tang of blood mingling with a ripple of pain, breeding both fear and a bitter resentment in his heart. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned away from the yard and set off in the opposite direction from where Teresa and Archil had gone.

☆☆☆

After leaving the alley, Teresa and Archil found a sheltered spot beneath the trees and sat down. Archil pulled out a bottle of ointment and began rubbing it into his bruises, clearly well practiced in the task. Teresa watched him in silence for a while, then stood, took the ointment, coated her hands, and moved behind him to massage the bruises on his back. Still holding a grudge about the fight, she pressed so hard that Archil winced and sucked in sharp breaths, her firm kneading only intensifying his discomfort.

At last, unable to bear the pain, Archil cried out, "Hey, sis, Tess, go easy! Do you think I’m made of dough? Ow, ow, that hurts!"

"Bear it!" Teresa snapped, giving his shoulder a brisk slap and continuing to knead away.

She worked over his back and then his arms, leaving Archil grimacing and silent, but only when her own muscles ached and her anger ebbed did she finally stop, wipe the sweat from her brow, and sink down onto the grass with a sigh. Nudging Archil with her foot, she asked, "Who was that boy just now?"

"One of Joance’s faithful lapdogs," Archil grumbled. "While I was stuck at a bottleneck and my strength was down, he ambushed me several times and made my life miserable. Now that I’ve broken through, I have to pay him back for all that suffering!"

"Do you fight often?" Teresa’s brows drew together, her tone unreadable.

Seeing her adopt such an adult, severe expression, Archil couldn’t help but laugh. He patted her head as if she were a pet, saying, "Don’t worry, Tess. Joance’s lot have never been a match for us, and I’ll always protect you. Besides, when the two groups fight, we keep it between ourselves and never drag innocents into it, so you needn’t worry."

Teresa rolled her eyes inwardly at the patronizing gesture, seized his troublesome hand, and gave the stiff muscle a harsh twist before rising. "It’s about time. Let’s go meet up with Big Brother and Ives."

☆☆☆

"Been fighting again?" Pedia raised an eyebrow as soon as he saw Archil. There were no visible signs of a scuffle, but the scent of ointment was unmistakable.

"Heh heh," Archil chuckled foolishly, choosing his words with care. "Just a little exercise, just a bit—really, just a bit."

Pedia’s expression didn’t change as he looked Archil up and down, making him squirm, before finally saying, "I don’t care if you fight, but don’t do it while you’re with Tess. Ten laps as punishment when we get home."

Archil drooped at the decree, but when he caught Teresa’s apologetic glance, he pulled a face that made her laugh. The mood instantly lightened. With lunchtime upon them, the four decided to find a meal in town before embarking on the afternoon’s treasure hunt. Led by Pedia, they set off toward a well-known restaurant nearby.