by Darren Shan
While Koyasan was trying to think of something to say in response to that, Itako rose — slowly, because she was an old, tired woman - and went inside, where it was cooler, to rest from the hot midday sun. She did not say goodbye to Koyasan. She knew they would be meeting again soon.
GRAVY
IT WAS A Holy Day. Nobody in the village worked on a Holy Day except those who had to milk goats or herd sheep, but even they took time off to pray and relax. It was the day when, by tradition, all of the children went to the graveyard to play and chase each other. They had to return at certain times to pray, and for meals, but most of the day was usually spent among the tombs, headstones and trees of the hill. Their parents often came to watch them at play, sitting on the banks of the stream, snacking, meditating or simply relaxing.
Koyasan usually spent a lot of time with her mother and father on Holy Days. They’d sit together on the village side of the bridge. Her parents would chat with other adults, while Koyasan would play with the babies and younger children who were not old enough to play in the graveyard.
Today though, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the place. It was only three days since her run-in with Itako and she’d barely slept. She kept thinking of all the terrible things that might happen, preparing herself for the worst. She wasn’t sure what that worst might be, but she guessed it would have something to do with the graveyard and the spirits, since Itako had mentioned Koyasan having to face her fears, and the graveyard was what she was most afraid of.
“Wanna go gravy!” Maiko cried, waving her short arms at the bridge. She couldn’t say ‘graveyard’ yet.
Koyasan’s mother smiled at Maiko, then at Koyasan. “Do you want to take her to play with the others?” she asked.
Koyasan shook her head wordlessly.
“Still afraid of the spirits?” her father chuckled, giving her a hug. “That’s fine. You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.”
Her parents had tried many times to convince her to cross the bridge, but when they finally realised she was genuinely terrified of the graveyard, they stopped trying to force her.
Koyasan eyed the bridge and graveyard with growing unease. She didn’t even want to be this close to the home of the dead, regardless of the protective stream.
“Can I go?” she asked her mother.
“Go where?” came the reply.
Koyasan shrugged. “It’s too hot,” she lied. “I want to play somewhere else. I’ll take Maiko.” Her parents expected Koyasan to babysit her younger sister on Holy Days. She knew they’d be more likely to let her leave if she took Maiko with her.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked. She put a hand to Koyasan’s forehead, “You’re not sick?”
“No,” Koyasan said. “I want to play with Maiko, but it’s too hot here. I might take her to the waterfall.”
“Very well. Do you have food?”
“Some garlic.”
Koyasan’s mother rolled her eyes. “You and your garlic! Here, take some bread for Maiko. I’ll cook a few extra dishes for supper — you’ll both be hungry after such a long walk.”
The waterfall was a two-hour walk away, a bit shorter coming back since most of it was downhill. Koyasan hadn’t intended to go there today, but now that the thought had popped into her head, she was delighted. It was the perfect place if you wanted to get away from graveyards and dark feelings.
“Come on,” Koyasan said, grabbing one of her sister’s pudgy hands.
“No!” Maiko protested. “Wanna go gravy!”
“No gravy today,” Koyasan smiled. “Not unless we have some for supper.”
Maiko scowled at the weak joke and wrenched her hand away. “Go gravy!” she snorted and raced towards the bridge, knowing Koyasan wouldn’t dare come after her if she got to the other side.
Koyasan laughed. Her legs were much longer than Maiko’s and she could run a lot faster. She gave her little sister a lengthy head start, enough to let her think that she might make it to the bridge. Then, with a wild cat’s shriek, she pursued Maiko and swept down on her like a gust of wind from a mountain.
Maiko squealed with pretend terror as Koyasan whirled her off her feet and carried her away from the bridge. But when she realised she was trapped, and that Koyasan wouldn’t set her down again, she began to slap her sister and cry.
“Wanna go gravy!” she wailed.
“No,” Koyasan said, hurrying away from the bridge, as much to get out of earshot of her parents as to escape from the graveyard. “We’re going to the waterfall. That’s much nicer than the graveyard.”
“Wanna play!” Maiko shouted.
“You can play. With me. At the waterfall.”
“No! In gravy!”
Koyasan ignored her struggling sister’s protests and pushed on doggedly. She was soon on the path to the waterfall, walking beneath leafy, shady trees. She felt much better now, the lightest she’d felt in three days. After a while, she set her sister down.
“Hate you!” Maiko roared, kicking Koyasan’s shin.
Koyasan sniffed and walked on, sure that Maiko would follow.
“Gravy!” Maiko yelled. “Gravy! Gravy! Gravy!”
Koyasan sensed the younger girl turn and march back towards the village. She smiled to herself and didn’t slow or look back. A few moments later she heard Maiko stop. Koyasan began counting inside her head. When she got to six, there was a rush of footsteps and Maiko popped up beside her.
“Gravy,” Maiko said miserably, but it was no longer a demand.
“You can go to the gravy next week,” Koyasan said.
And they walked on together, through the trees, up the hill to where the waterfall was waiting.
SULKING GIRL
THE waterfall was nothing spectacular, not much taller than Koyasan. But it fell into a nice deep pool with fish in it* and there were lots of colourful wild flowers growing around the edges.
Several adults were resting by the pool and a couple were swimming. One pair had a baby, even younger than Maiko* but otherwise the two sisters were the only children there.
Maiko’s mood improved when she saw the pool. With Koyasan’s help* she wriggled out of her clothes and charged into the water* yelling happily. Koyasan undressed and joined Maiko. The fish nipped at her feet and calves* but left her alone once she moved further in and drew her legs up* to float.
Maiko couldn’t swim yet* so she stood in the shallower water near the bank. She roared at the fish as they bit her* and kicked out at them. But the bites didn’t really hurt. She was just playing with the fish, pretending to be angry.
The girls spent most of the afternoon at the pool, swimming or sunbathing, making up games. They ate the bread and Koyasan shared a garlic clove with Maiko. As the day wore on, Koyasan thought about returning home, but Maiko kicked up a fuss each time Koyasan tried to lead her away from the pool. She’d been disappointed once already today, and wasn’t going to stand for another order from her older, bossy sister.
Koyasan could have dragged Maiko away if she’d wished, but she was enjoying herself. So she let Maiko have her own way, even though she knew their mother would be worried if they returned home late.
Eventually, with the sun dropping in the sky, she had to be firm. If they left now, they’d arrive home a good hour before sunset. But if they left any later, and got delayed on the way, the sun might beat them to it, and Koyasan had no intention of ending up stranded outdoors in the dark.
Most of the adults had left, and the few who remained were not from Koyasan’s village, so the girls had to walk home alone. Maiko was tired and grumpy, and threw a tantrum when Koyasan peeled her away from the pool.
“Don’t wanna go home!” she shouted.
“We have to,” snapped Koyasan. “It will be dark soon.”
“Don’t care!” Maiko yelled.
Koyasan was tired too, so instead of laughing off Maiko’s protests, as she had earlier, she argued with her on the walk back. She lost her temper and calle
d Maiko all sorts of foul names, making her cry. In response, Maiko dragged her feet and tried to run away a few times, almost losing Koyasan at one stage when she darted through a hole in a thick bush that Koyasan couldn’t fit through.
Because of the arguing and delays, the walk back took longer than Koyasan had planned, and it was nearly sunset by the time they came to the place by the stream from which they’d set out hours earlier. Everyone had gone back to the village. Koyasan could see lights twinkling through the trees and she could smell lots of wonderful food. She’d been worrying about the time, not sure they’d make it home before dark, but when she saw the lights, she relaxed.
“Gravy,” Maiko said, as they drew level with the bridge. She tugged hard on Koyasan’s arm and began singing, “Gravy! Gravy! Gravy!”
Koyasan knew Maiko didn’t really want to go into the graveyard. It was late, she was tired and there were no other children there for her to play with. She was only doing this to annoy Koyasan.
“Go on then!” Koyasan yelled, losing her temper again. She released Maiko and pushed her away. “Go to the graveyard if you want. I won’t stop you.”
Maiko blinked up at her older sister. She hadn’t expected this and wasn’t sure what to do. Koyasan laughed at her hesitancy and began to tease her. “Maiko’s afraid of the graveyard! Fraidy rat, fraidy rat, fraid as a rat who can smell a fat cat!”
Maiko’s face darkened. “You the fraidy!” she snarled, then turned and stomped across the bridge.
Koyasan’s smile faded when Maiko reached the far side of the bridge and stepped off. It wasn’t night yet, but it was close to it, and the stronger spirits might be able to tolerate weak evening light like this.
“Come back!” Koyasan called. “Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”
Maiko heard the fear in Koyasan’s voice. She grinned and stuck her tongue out. “Come get me!”
“Don’t be stupid,” Koyasan growled. “Come back quick, before the sun goes all the way down.”
“Wanna play,” Maiko insisted.
“You can’t,” Koyasan said. “Everybody’s gone home. There’s nobody there except you... and the evil spirits.”
Maiko’s wicked smile disappeared when Koyasan said that. She glanced around nervously, noticing the shadows and eerie emptiness for the first time. The tombs and headstones, which looked crumbling and harmless in the day, now took on a much darker and more threatening appearance. Koyasan saw Maiko make up her mind to return. She took one step forward, back on to the bridge...
...then stopped when someone laughed. It was a child’s laugh and it came from within the cover of trees near the base of the hill.
Maiko’s face lit up again and she smirked at Koyasan. “Play in gravy!” she crowed.
“No!” Koyasan gasped. “You don’t know who that is. It might not even be...”
But Maiko had already spun around and was racing away from the bridge, hurrying towards the spot where the laughter had come from. Koyasan yelled after her, calling her back, but Maiko ignored her and, seconds later, vanished from sight into the forest of trees, where the roots of the giant trunks mixed with the urns and ashes of the dead.
THE WAIT
Koyasan was cold, and not just because the sun had set. It was twenty or thirty minutes since Maiko had entered the forest which grew above the remains of the ancient dead and there’d been no sign or sound of her since. Koyasan had called her name several times, but there hadn’t been an answer, not even an echo — the dead swallowed echoes out here.
The shadows of night were swiftly stretching across the world, claiming the graveyard and the village. The sun had dipped completely out of sight and soon it would be night proper. Koyasan was safe where she stood, protected from the evil graveyard spirits by the stream. But Maiko wasn’t. She was in the midst of them, on the hill, maybe lost in the forest. And if the spirits hadn’t risen from their slumber and found her yet, they would soon.
“I shouldn’t have let her go,” Koyasan moaned. “If anything happens to her, it’s my fault.”
Part of her wanted to cross the bridge and go in search of the missing girl. If there was ever a time to face her fears and overcome them, this was surely it. Go there, find Maiko, bring her back and everything would be fine. They’d be laughing about this later as they ate supper, and Koyasan’s mother and father would tell her how proud they were. Yamadasan and the others could never call her a coward again, not after something like that.
But she couldn’t move. Her fear was too strong. Maiko was in trouble, she was certain, but there was nothing she could do to help. She couldn’t even run back to the village to fetch one of the braver children or an adult to go and find Maiko. All she could do was stand, shiver and stare.
More time passed. Night had taken firm hold of the world, and while the sky was still laced with a few bright streaks, they were dwindling fast. Another five minutes and day would have departed totally.
There were footsteps.
Koyasan held her breath and strained her ears, praying for a glimpse of Maiko. But then she realised the footsteps were coming from behind her, from the village. Looking backwards, she saw Mitsuo coming with a lantern and a plate of food. She was confused at first. Was he bringing the food for her and Maiko? Then she remembered that it was customary to leave an offering by the banks of the stream on Holy Days. If any hungry evil spirits passed in the night, they would hopefully eat the food and leave the sleeping humans alone.
Mitsuo saw Koyasan’s shape and stopped. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness like hers had. He thought this might be an especially hungry spirit, come early to get ahead of the others.
“Wh... wh... what are you?” Mitsuo croaked, taking a step back.
“It’s all right,” Koyasan said, bowing even though he couldn’t see her. “It’s me.”
“Koyasan?” Mitsuo raised the lantern, waited for his eyes to focus, then edged towards her. “What are you doing out here? Your mother and father are worried. Some of the men are setting out to look for you and Maiko.”
“It took us a long time to come back from the waterfall,” Koyasan said softly.
“Your mother won’t be pleased at you for scaring her,” Mitsuo sniffed. “I bet she doesn’t let you...” He stopped. “Where’s Maiko?”
Koyasan gulped. “She’s playing. In the graveyard.” Mitsuo gawped. “The graveyard?”
“Somebody laughed. I think it might have been Yamadasan. She’s playing with him.”
“Don’t be crazy,” Mitsuo said. “There’s nobody in the graveyard, not at this time. We all left hours ago.”
“But there was laughter,” Koyasan whispered. Mitsuo’s eyes widened as he realised what this meant. Maiko was alone, in the graveyard, at night, lured in by some nameless creature’s laugh.
“I’m going to fetch help!” he shouted. “Wait here. Keep calling for her. I’ll give you the lantern.”
Mitsuo passed the lantern to Koyasan, made sure she had a firm grip on it — he could see that she was dazed — then ran back the way he’d come, doing what Koyasan should have done as soon as Maiko entered the forest.
Koyasan felt worse than ever. She’d tried to convince herself that nothing was wrong, that Maiko would return unharmed, that there were lots of children in the graveyard, playing a trick on her to scare her. But now she realised just how bad this was. If Maiko had been taken by the spirits because of Koyasan’s fear... if her mother and father came and asked where Maiko was and Koyasan had to point at the darkening forest...
She got ready to run. She couldn’t face her parents and the other villagers. Couldn’t live with the guilt and blame. Better to flee now and never come back. Maybe go to the waterfall and give herself to the fishes, stand beneath the falling water and pray for it to wash her away, to dissolve her into nothingness and...
“Koyasaaaaaaan...”
Koyasan’s spine turned to ice. Somebody had called to her from the graveyard. But it hadn’t been a human, natural voic
e. It had sounded like the wind whispering through moss on a headstone or over the exposed teeth of a skull.
With a dry mouth and trembling hands, Koyasan waited for the voice to call to her again. When there was only silence, she shakily stretched forth her lantern, so it was hanging over the stream. For a few seconds she saw nothing except the jutting tombs and headstones of the area beyond the bridge. But then she caught sight of a flicker to her left. Turning the lantern, she readjusted, and saw a shape slide out of the forest and glide down through the tombs towards the bridge.
Something was coming out of the graveyard.
NOT MAIKO
The thing stopped at the opposite end of the bridge. Light from the lantern struck its face. And relief flooded through Koyasan like a tidal wave.
It was Maiko!
Koyasan called out joyously to her sister and hurried to the bridge, beckoning Maiko forward. But Maiko didn’t react. She stood on the far side of the stream, separated from Koyasan by the bridge, her face blank, not moving a muscle.
Koyasan’s throat tightened. Was this really Maiko? It certainly looked like her, but Maiko had never stood so stiffly. She was always wriggling and smiling, waving her hands or twitching her toes. This looked more like a statue than a living, breathing girl. Koyasan couldn’t even see her chest rising or falling.
“Maiko?” Koyasan asked quietly.
No answer.
Then Maiko - if it was Maiko - stepped on to the bridge and advanced, taking slow, stiff, sinister steps. Koyasan gripped the handle of the lantern tightly and lowered it, so the light was shining directly at Maiko. Her sister’s eyes didn’t flicker. Her pupils didn’t narrow. She walked on, oblivious, unaware of light or darkness.