The Bridge To Nihon (BOOK ONE)

Chapter 7 - The Assessors' Visit

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The guildhall was the largest communal space of the village. Any important discussions, travelling theaters or the rare summer feast were held there. Sofia liked going there because it meant that something was happening. Aunt Sybil disliked it intensely, partly for the same reason. She felt ashamed for Uncle Tomas' drunkenness, even though many people got drunk at the village gatherings, and he wasn't even the worst one.

This time, the atmosphere was distinctly different, and Sofia's heart was beating with an intensity as if to remind her that it was still there.

People were gathered in small groups. Their voices were humming in unison, and yet everybody was behaving in a way not to attract any attention. All made an effort to be as unassuming and ordinary as possible.

Aunt Sybil didn't stay with anyone outside. She nodded towards a few people as she ushered Sofia past. Sofia saw Aunt Sybil's brothers, but before she could greet them, Aunt Sybil had already put them off until later.

"I didn't know that Uncle Sermon was back," Sofia said, craning her neck to get a better look at him.

Aunt Sybil scoffed derisively.

"He doesn't bother to check in with his sister."

Sofia thought that she didn't blame him, because Aunt Sybil tended to treat her brothers with even more coldness than she did Uncle Tomas. But she was careful not to say this.

Sermon had been travelling, as he tended to do as often as he could get away. He said that he had itchy feet, but that his heart belonged to the village, and that this was the reason why he always left, but always came back.

Sofia wondered if he had brought her something. From his last trip, he had brought her a puppet on a string. It was a bearded man made of wood, wearing a green cap and frock, his feet enclosed in tiny leather boots that had real soles with nails in them. His legs and arms and head could be moved in every direction, and Sofia had quickly learned how to make him walk over the windowsill and fall over his own feet in an overly dramatic way. Uncle Sermon had told her about a puppeteer named Cyrus Twist, who had a cart with a red ceiling that was filled with a myriad of puppets, all hanging from a bar, sometimes getting entangled when the road was rough and bumpy. The cart could be opened to one side, doubling as his stage. People came from far and wide to see his performances, but Sofia wasn't sure if she could trust this information. Uncle Sermon always seemed to run into very famous people, and Aunt Sybil said that being truthful had never been a concern of his.

Also, Uncle Sermon had leaned it as he always did when he was divulging a secret. "People vanish around Cyrus Twist," he had told her. "He turns them into puppets for his plays. Apparently, he has a list of characters that he needs. And when you resemble one of them, watch out!"

At that point, Sofia had known not to believe him. But she cherished the puppet and marvelled at its fine features and melancholic gaze.

Now, Sofia followed her aunt into the guildhall. The outside noise was swallowed as if they had stepped into a bell jar.

"Here," Aunt Sybil said, pointing at one of the closed doors.

A young man who wasn't from the village was sitting next to the entrance. He was wearing the dark blue Assessor's uniform with the red collar. It looked two sizes too large on him. His expression was very serious, even though his pale and hairless face revealed him to be only a few years older than Sofia.

"You need to wait," he said with a voice that was an imitation of somebody else's. He didn't make eye contact.

"Yes, sir," Aunt Sybil said and lowered her head.