Yuki-Onna tore free of the ghosts and rushed at them. The ghosts howled like the wind — Kara realized she had heard them before but they had sounded so far away and now they were right here with her, closer than ever somehow. The spirits grabbed hold of Yuki-Onna again.
"Little monk, I will have your flesh and blood!" the witch screamed, reaching out to slash at the air with her elongated fingers, now icy claws. She could not see Miho, Sakura, Ren, Hachiro, or Kara thanks to the wards Kubo had given them, but Mai was unprotected, and so were the teachers . . . and so was Kubo.
Mr. Yamato and Miss Aritomo ran forward, trying to help the ghosts protect the old monk, reaching for Yuki-Onna.
"No!" Kara shouted, but they couldn't hear over the wind.
The witch shot them a single look that paralyzed them both. Their masks had not helped them. They had looked her in the eye and, like the victims of Medusa, paid the price. Seconds more and she might freeze them solid, ice inside and out, but the ghosts grappled with her again.
"Ume, please!" Sakura said again.
Ume took her hand and together they knelt in the snow by Kubo's head.
"What do we do?" Hachiro asked, gripping Kara's hand tightly.
Kubo struggled to get up on one elbow, wheezing. From inside his robe he unsheathed a small, thin knife and handed it to Kara.
"You bleed."
Kara took a deep breath. The others all stared at her. Hachiro and Ume looked horrified, but the others had all been warned. Ren backed away from the old monk. The ritual to break the curse did not involve him, and he seemed very relieved at that.
She tugged off her gloves. Placing the small blade against her palm, she turned to look at Hachiro. Staring into his eyes, she sliced her palm. As numb as her hands were, pain seared through her and she hissed through her teeth but did not break her gaze as she gave the knife to Hachiro.
He kept his eyes glued to hers as he followed suit.
The moment the first drop of Kara's blood hit the snow, Kubo began to sing. How he knew the precise moment, she did not know, but he opened his mouth and began a chant that became a keening, almost mournful song in some dialect she could not translate at all.
One by one they all took the knife — Hachiro handed it to Miho, who gave it to Sakura, who in turn passed it on to Ume — and one by one they cut, and bled, even Ume. Her expression had become one of resignation, of guilt, and of sorrow. One by one they each made a fist.
Yuki-Onna thrashed against the ghosts. Kara could not help looking, and she saw that there were perhaps two dozen of them, maybe even more. Most she did not know, but the familiar faces were there — Jiro and Hana, Chouku and Daisuke, and poor Sora — and they were fierce and terrible to behold, but she loved them all so much in that moment.
Kubo's song grew louder and he rose, gesturing to Mai and Ren, who rushed in to help the old man up to a sitting position. He gestured to Kara, who put her bleeding fist forward, and then to the others, nodding as he sang, and they opened their hands and together they bled. A crimson stain spread on the snow, steam rising from it, their blood merging.
The storm raged harder, buffeting them. Ren went down on his knees but managed to keep Kubo sitting up. Face and clothes coated in frost, the old monk glanced around at each of them in turn, his eyes weary, body swaying in the wind.
"Now you must be together," he said, and somehow the wind brought his voice to Kara's ears instead of away. "No matter what you feel for each other, in this . . . you must be together. Repeat after me . . .
"I feel the wind as it passes by, and I bend with it.
"I feel the rain as it runs down my face, and I drink of it.
"I feel time rush by like a river, and I flow with it.
"They touch me and are gone.
"Shadows vanish at sunrise.
"All things move on, except for those I hold in my heart.
"The mark of evil is washed away in blood,
"And cleansed by the waters of the river of time.
"The wind and the rain and the river and the darkness touch me,
"But the seasons give way, the snake sheds its skin, and I am made new.
"Dark eyes and dark hearts turn from me.
"They have no power over me.
"And I am made new."
In unison they repeated the words after Kubo, their voices rising in a forceful wave somewhere between chant and song. Wakana, Miss Aritomo, Ren, and Mr. Yamato looked on, but Kara saw they were only half-paying attention to the ritual. In the midst of the storm and the rage of Yuki-Onna, the ghosts tormenting her, holding the witch back from finishing the job she'd begun of killing Kubo, they were terrified and freezing. They warmed each other, comforted each other, and stared, perhaps each praying his or her own private prayers.
Halfway through the chant, Kara looked up and saw something beautiful and unsettling. Sakura had become two people. She was there, across from Kara, open palm bleeding into the snow in front of Kubo, but beside and within her, a part of her and yet sliding away, was the ghost of a girl who seemed to be an older, sadder version of Sakura. The ghost had longer hair, thinner features, and eyes dark with a terrible wisdom, but as Kara watched, the spirit — it could only have been Akane Murakami — looked at Sakura with such love that Kara nearly wept with the heart-aching beauty of it.
Kubo looked up when the chant had finished. "It is done," he said.
As if in reply, the storm roared and Yuki-Onna screamed with such ferocity that they all looked over at her. The winter witch tore away from the ghosts, leaving parts of herself behind. Her beauty had fled and all that remained was her hunger for death, the cruelest part of winter. She whipped toward them over the snow. They all scattered, forgetting for a moment about Kubo, before Hachiro and Ren rushed in to try to drag him away.
Yuki-Onna lifted Ren with a whirling funnel of snow and raging wind and hurled him into the trees. Kara heard something snap and hoped it was branches. She reached out long fingers toward Hachiro's face and Kara screamed, knowing she would freeze him solid and he would be just as dead as Sora, just another of the winter's ghosts.
Kubo stood in the way. Yuki-Onna's fingers touched him and frost covered his chest, but the old monk smiled sadly, as though with pity.
"What's happening?" Miho yelled beside Kara. "It's supposed to be over! The curse is gone."
Kara's heart clenched with a fresh dose of fear. Miho was right. Kubo had told them that if the ritual worked, the power that had summoned Yuki-Onna would be erased, and without that as an anchor, the Woman in White could not remain in this world. But he had also said no one had ever driven Yuki-Onna away before. Had he been wrong about the ritual?
Yuki-Onna lifted Kubo off the ground, pulled him to her, and sank those rows of shark teeth into his flesh yet again. Ice crystals formed on his flesh as the witch drank his blood, and Kara felt sure she was grinning all along. Kubo had been half-drained already, his vitality gone, withered away, and now his blood ran down the white flesh of Yuki-Onna's chin and throat.
"No!" Kara screamed, and she ran at the witch.
Hachiro shouted her name, reached out to stop her, but only managed to snag her jacket before she broke free of him.
The ghosts darted about, grasping at Yuki-Onna, but they were not working in concert, now, their efforts in disarray, and the witch drove them off one and two at a time. If the spirits did not work together, they would not be able to restrain her again.
As Kara rushed toward Yuki-Onna, she saw Mr. Yamato doing the same from the other side. The old monk was the only living connection between the principal and his dead father. Mr. Yamato had deep respect and love for Kubo, and it showed on his face as he reached out toward the Woman in White. Kara saw his hands take up fistfuls of the material of Yuki-Onna's kimono and for a second it looked like he might get a grip on her, but then the fabric turned to snow.
Kara tried to grab the witch but her hands, too, passed right through, plunging instead into icy snow and air so cold
that she screamed in pain. But when she tried to pull her hands away, she could not. They were freezing in place, inside Yuki-Onna.
The witch tossed Kubo away, the old monk little more than skin and bones where he landed in the snow. Then Yuki-Onna grabbed Mr. Yamato by the hair and turned to stare down at Kara, the witch's black, bottomless eyes locked on hers.
"The monk's power is gone," the Woman in White said with a bloodstained grin. "I can see you now."
The ghosts tore at Yuki-Onna's face and hair and kimono. They existed in this world and the next, like Yuki-Onna, and so they could touch her. But Kara could not. Hachiro and Miho were behind her now, trying to pull her away. Miss Aritomo and Ren were doing the same with Mr. Yamato. Ume knelt in the snow by Kubo's still, unmoving body and wept, while Mai and Wakana screamed to the spirits of their dead loved ones to do something.
Then, Kara could move her hands. She could barely feel them, but she could move them.
"The storm is dying!" Miho shouted.
And it was. The wind's howl began to quiet. The snow lightened. Hachiro and Miho pulled hard and Kara's hands came free, the three of them tumbling to the ground together. Her hands and forearms were red and raw and bloody, and she couldn't feel them, but she could move her fingers.
The ritual had worked. Yuki-Onna's power was fading.
The witch spun around, staring in horror at the dying storm, the rest of them forgotten.
"No!"
She began to change, almost to shrink down upon herself. Her fingers became delicate and beautiful again, and her face followed suit. The wind danced around Yuki-Onna, her hair and her kimono flowing with it. As her power diminished her elegance and quiet, surreal loveliness returned.
Kara wondered if this was the face of Yuki-Onna, or the face of Etsoku Reizei, the girl who had died on the mountain during the winter's first snow and whose ashes had been used to help create a body for Yuki-Onna in this world.
The ghosts left her alone, then, standing by to watch as the winter witch glared at them all with eyes full of hate.
"I still have the power to kill you all," Yuki-Onna said, her voice like the wind, caressing them, gusting around them.
"But you won't," Sakura said, stepping forward.
They all stared at her, this grim, hard-edged girl with her bandages, most of her face hidden by the jagged veil of her hair. Kara did not know if the others could see it, but to her eyes there were still two of Sakura, Akane's ghost blurred beside her, half joined to her.
And then Sakura spoke in another voice.
"We won't let you," said the ghost of Akane Murakami.
And she left her sister, the intangible spirit only a silhouette against the snow as she rushed toward Yuki-Onna. The Woman in White staggered backward in confusion but could do nothing to stop it. Akane's ghost entered her, vanished inside of her.
Yuki-Onna cried out, but it sounded more like anguish than pain. The witch doubled over, and for the first time, Kara saw that she had left footprints in the snow.
Then she straightened up, and her eyes had changed.
They were no longer eclipsed with bottomless black. Instead, they were a soft, gentle brown, and they were filled with a quiet melancholy.
Sakura started toward her. Miho seemed about to try to stop her, but Kara held up a hand to forestall any interference.
"Akane?" Sakura asked.
The snow woman shook her head. No. This wasn't Akane. But it wasn't really Yuki-Onna, either. Not the creature who had longed to drink life and to kill with the cruelty of winter's darkest days. Perhaps it was that girl who'd died in the first storm of the season, or some combination of the spirits inside Yuki-Onna now.
But Sakura smiled as though she didn't believe it, like she was sure her sister was there. "I love you," she said.
The wind, weaker than it was but still strong, gusted powerfully once more. Snow picked up from the ground, swirling around Yuki-Onna, creating a churning maelstrom that lasted only seconds before it subsided into nothing.
A final gust, and then the wind became an ordinary breeze, and the snow tapered to flurries, and Yuki-Onna was gone.
And so were the ghosts.
"Master Kubo!" Mr. Yamato called, running over to drop to the snow beside Ume, who had been tending to the Unsui.
Kara walked slowly toward them with Hachiro at her side. He was rubbing her hands, trying to get the blood flowing well, to get some warmth back into them. Mai and Wakana appeared from the trees, helping a limping, bleeding Ren. Miss Aritomo and Miho approached as well, until all but Sakura were gathered around the prone, unmoving body of the old monk whose kindness and wisdom had saved them all.
The Unsui, it appeared, would wander the clouds no longer. Or, perhaps, Kara thought, he will wander them forever, now.
But then Mr. Yamato looked up. "He's still breathing. We need an ambulance."
Miss Aritomo pulled out her phone. Ume started snapping orders at Mai and Wakana, talking about her car being not far, just a couple hundred yards down the mountain.
Kara felt afraid to hope, but could not stop herself. It felt nice. Hope and love were the things that would warm her. She turned to Hachiro, stood on her toes, and kissed him. When the kiss was through their eyes met but neither of them spoke. There would be time enough for words later. Instead, she lay her cheek against his chest and just relished the feeling of him there, where he belonged.
"Look," Miho whispered to her.
Kara glanced over and saw that Sakura had not joined them. She stood gazing up the mountain toward the place where Yuki-Onna had vanished.
"Give us a moment?" she said to Hachiro.
He nodded. "Of course. Whatever you need."
Kara and Miho went over to join Sakura, standing on either side of her.
"Are you all right?" Miho asked.
"I will be, I think," Sakura said. "But more importantly, I think Akane will be."
"I'm not sure I understand what happened," Kara admitted. "Is she Yuki-Onna now, the way the other girl was?"
Sakura nodded. "A part of her, at least. When she was inside of me, I could feel what she felt and I knew what she knew. It was . . . it was what I needed. It was wonderful. Now she will be a part of Yuki-Onna, and none of us will have anything to fear from the Woman in White again. And Akane has put her own anger and bitterness behind her. In the spring, when winter is through, her spirit will finally go on to the peace she has always deserved. And the rest of the ghosts will as well."
Kara reached out and took Sakura's hand, squeezed it in her own. On the other side of her, Miho did the same.
"Then we can all have peace," Kara said.
"And a new beginning," Miho added.
Sakura nodded, then turned to her friends with a wistful smile.
"Let's go home."
Epilogue
Shortly after ten o'clock the next morning, Sakura stood outside the hospital smoking her last cigarette.
She had taken up the habit out of nervousness and a careful cultivation of rebellion. Or at least the appearance of rebellion. Smoking cigarettes had given her an excuse to be solitary, to find places to hide and think. Miho's friendship had been her only salvation at first, and then Kara had come along and surprised them all, this gaijin girl who had become like a sister to both Miho and Sakura.
A sister.
Sakura would miss Akane for as long as she lived, but she felt a peace now that she had only thought she had achieved before. This was different. She and Akane had had a glimpse into each other's hearts in a way that she had never imagined possible, and they had recognized a kinship that went beyond being sisters. They shared anger.
But now Akane had found peace. Sakura felt a terrible loss at the thought that they were parted from one another, now, but she had made her peace with that as well. She wanted to live a life that would make her sister proud, to strive and succeed and find happiness that would have been enough for both of them.
With a smile, she glanced at t
he cigarette in her hand — only half-smoked, she flicked it to the walkway and ground it under her heel. It reminded her of a girl she no longer wanted to be.
A door whooshed open behind her and she turned to see Mai coming out of the hospital. The girls regarded one another for a few seconds, and then Mai smiled.
"Is this the smoking section?"
Sakura gestured to the dead cigarette on the ground. "I just quit."
"Can you spare one, then? I thought I saw you headed out here."
Sakura handed her the half-empty packet. "Take them. I won't need them anymore."
"Wow. You're serious. Good for you. I would like to quit, but not today," Mai said.
She lit a cigarette, took a drag, and blew out a plume of smoke. Sakura felt tempted to go back inside, but instead she wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck and plunged her hands into her pockets.
"How is Wakana?" Sakura asked.
Mai nodded. "She is doing well, thank you. I believe they will let her go home this afternoon, or tomorrow at the latest."
"Mr. Harper is being released today," Sakura said. "But they're keeping Ren another day. Miho is with him now."
Mai turned to her. "And Kubo?"
"He is alive," Sakura said. "The doctors say they must watch him closely, but they believe he will recover. A feat of pure will, they say."
Mai smiled, watching the smoke rise from the tip of her cigarette. "I am so happy to hear that."
Again Sakura felt tempted to go in, but she could not escape the feeling that Mai had come out specifically to speak with her, that she was working on something she wanted to say, so she waited.
A minute passed. And then another.
"Ume confessed," Mai said at length.
Sakura blinked in surprise, but said nothing.
"She also named all of the girls who were there. She told the police which were only witnesses and which took part in beating Akane," Mai said, without looking at Sakura. "Including Emi and Kaori."
The pain in her voice when she gave those names was obvious.
"Your friends," Sakura said.
A Winter of Ghosts (The Waking Series) Page 20