The tree against his back wasthe only thing he trusted, now. The only thing that did not seem intent uponmaking him suffer. The rest of the world was winter. Moonlight streamed throughthe bare branches above, making long finger-shadows that seemed to reach forhim across the snow. His body felt stiff and if he shifted even an inch, hisbones ached so much he feared the marrow had frozen. Hachiro felt brittle, asthough a fall or a blow might shatter him.
Safer, then, to stay right here.
Hachiro's teeth chattered andhis whole body shook from the cold. When he closed his eyes, the lids andeyelashes stuck together, threatening to freeze. His hair was frosted with ice,his pants covered with a coating of snow that clung to the fabric, almost asthough the winter hoped to consume him, draw him down into the snow and makehim a part of it forever.
The night seemed to go onforever.
He thought of his parents andwondered if he would ever see them again. In his heart, he knew the answer, andit filled him with grief, as much for them as for himself. He thought of Karaand knew that she must be terrified for him. Hachiro would have given anythingto have been able to hold her, to touch her hair and whisper softly to her, totell her it would be all right.
But it wouldn't be.
Even now, he could hear Rencrying, begging to be set free. Hachiro hated himself because he could not makehis legs work, could not make himself stand and fight, could not save Ren fromthe Woman in White.
She did not want Hachiro towatch. It had been she who placed him here, against this tree, facing into thewoods and the cross-hatching of moonshadows that spread across the snow.
Ren called his name.
Hachiro closed his eyes, wishinghe could close his ears as well, and his heart. Instead he forced himself totry again to move, and was surprised to find that he had the power to turn hishead. A spark of hope rose within him and he took a moment to muster hisstrength and his courage before twisting around to see, to help. But as hetried to get his feet beneath him, his body would not obey him. The Woman inWhite had sapped his will and the cold had sapped his strength. He realizedthat he could no longer feel his feet, or his lower legs. His hands were likeclubs, no longer even connected to his body.
He lay on his side in the snow,unable to move even to lift himself into a sitting position again. He managedto twist his head to keep his face out of the snow, and there in the moonlightand winter shadows, he saw the Woman in White. Her beauty stole his breathaway.
She stood just a few feet awayfrom Ren, who floated above the ground, tossed to and fro by the winds that shecontrolled. Snow whipped at him, turning him round and round, toying with him. Hachirohad thought of himself as a marionette, but the Woman in White had turned Reninto a real puppet, and now she made him dance even as she caressed him withthe wind and the snow at her command.
"Beautiful,"she whispered. "So beautiful."
Hachiro closed his eyes and theicy grip of winter carried him down into the darkness.
On Tuesday morning, Kara woke tothe sound of the doorbell. She squinted against the sunshine that floodedthrough her window as she dragged herself out of bed, and when she lookedoutside and saw the lovely, gauzy blue sky, a terrible guilt descended uponher. How could she have slept so soundly, so well, when Hachiro might be dead? Hemight be frozen, like Sora, still lost upon that mountain, and she had manageda wonderful, restorative sleep without a single nightmare.
She leaned her forehead againstthe window, staring out at the bay across the street, and the cold glass numbedher skin. Sadness threatened to overwhelm her. She could so easily crawl backinto bed and succumbed to her fear for Hachiro and her guilt at leaving himbehind.
But he would still be lost.
No, something had to be done. Aglance at the clock told her it was just after eight o'clock. Searchers wouldalready be starting up the mountain, spreading out, looking behind every treeand in every hollow. The urge to be among them, to be up on that mountainlooking for him herself, was powerful. But if she believed there was somethingother than nature at work here — and she could not deny it seemedprobable — then the best way for her to help him was to figure out what,exactly, that might be, and figure out how to combat it.
When impossible things had firstbegun to happen to her — terrifying, supernatural things — she hadfelt more alone than she ever had before. But slowly others began to getinvolved, to learn the truth, and now Kara did not have to face this byherself.
Pulling on a robe, she left herbedroom. In the kitchen she found her father and Miss Aritomo embracing, Yuuka'scheek pressed against his chest as if she were listening to his heartbeat. Karafroze, hating to disturb their intimacy, but as she began to take a stepbackward a creaking floorboard gave her away and her father looked up.
"Good morning, sweetheart,"he said, as he and Miss Aritomo broke their embrace.
"Sorry to interrupt,"Kara said sheepishly.
"You're not interrupting,"Yuuka said, smiling. "You live here, remember?"
Kara returned her smile. Onceshe had thought of Miss Aritomo as an intruder, but now she liked it when shewas with them. Kara knew she would never be able to think of Yuuka as hermother, even if her father ended up marrying her, but she felt a certaincomfort when the three of them were together. It felt like family.
They had breakfast together andKara helped them clean up afterward. By the time she had showered, dressed, anddried her hair, Mr. Yamato had arrived and Miho and Sakura were both there,helping to set out cups for tea. In the eyes of her friends she saw her ownfears reflected back at her. They were all suffering from frayed nerves, and sothere was little of the usual polite chatter as they waited for the finalattendee to arrive for the meeting Mr. Yamato had called.
After the events the past springthat had led up to Kara and her friends being cursed by Kyuketsuki, she hadbeen astounded by the utter incompetence of the Miyazu police. They seemed tohave an absurd explanation for every inexplicable thing and to willfully ignoreany information that would have cast those explanations in doubt. Only after theirencounter with the Hannya in the early fall did she realize that the policewere not stupid, they were simply deceitful.
The Miyazu police had understoodthat supernatural forces were at work in their city, and they had worked tocover it up as completely as possible, swearing to secrecy everyone involvedwith Monju-no-Chie school who knew anything about it. And Mr. Yamato hadsupported those efforts completely. They police did not want to terrify thepeople unnecessarily, or to lose face by publicly acknowledging something thatmany would never believe, and for which they would be mocked without mercy. Mr.Yamato merely wanted to make sure the parents of his students did not panic andwithdraw their children from the school.
As long as there was no danger,they demanded silence and secrecy.
But now Sora was dead, and Mr.Yamato was no fool. The boy had been frozen solid in the middle of a freaksnowstorm, and there had been talk of ghosts, which must have gotten back tohim as well. Kara assumed her father had told the principal about the ghosts. Theyhad all vowed to inform him and the police if they encountered anythingremotely supernatural, anything that might indicate that Kyuketsuki's curse haddrawn yet another evil entity to Miyazu City.
And now. . ghosts.
At half past nine, on the dot,the doorbell rang. Her father answered the door and led the policeman into thedining room to join them. Tea had not yet been served; they had been waitingupon this grim man. They had all met Captain Nobunaga before, but he did notgreet them as friends. The policeman gave them a small, formal bow and waitedto be invited to sit. His uniform was crisp, his graying hair clipped short,and his lips seemed eternally pursed in an expression of disapproval. He andhis colleagues in the Miyazu City police department did not enjoy having anyopen discussion of such things as ghosts and curses, which was likely why themeeting was being held here, in the Harper home, and why the captain had comealone.
Over tea, the girls told thestory of the previous day's storm. Kara told Captain Nobunaga what Hachiro hadtold
her about seeing Jiro's ghost, and about the apparition of Sora that sheand Miho had seen on the mountain the day before, and how she had been certainthat the boy was dead, even then. Though she felt embarrassed at showing thedepth of her feelings for Hachiro in front of the principal and the policeman,she revealed her belief that Hachiro and Ren were alive. If they were dead, shesuspected that their ghosts would have appeared as well.
Miho related the news thatWakana believed she had seen Daisuke's ghost on the mountain, just before thestorm. Sakura remained strangely quiet during all of this storytelling, butwhen Kara shot questioning glances in her direction, she only nodded for themto continue.
When all of the tales had beentold, that shifting, nervous silence returned to the house. No one seemed towant to begin to dissect what they had learned or to be the first to suggestexplanations. Captain Nobunaga glanced around at each of them in turn, lettinghis gaze linger on Kara for a moment, and then he turned to Mr. Yamato.
"Has anything happened todirectly link these 'ghosts' — if that is what they were — to thecurse of Kyuketsuki?" the policeman asked, his words clipped and sharp.
Mr. Yamato gave a single shakeof his head. "No."
"Not yet," MissAritomo added, her voice firm.
Kara loved her for that. Thepolice were so used to denying things they did not want to have to deal with,but Yuuka had no intention of letting the captain explain this all away.
"With all due respect,Captain," her father added, "you asked us to keep you informedwhenever anything. . unnatural. . occurred."
Captain Nobunaga nodded. "Yes,Harper-san. But other than these 'ghost sightings,' there is no indication thatanything supernatural is at work here. The young man, Hachiro, saw a boy wholooked like his dead friend on the train. He was apparently half-asleep at thetime."
"But Kara and Miho both saw-" Sakura started, angrily.
Mr. Yamato shot her a hard lookthat silenced her. Her rudeness reflected poorly on him as her schoolprincipal, whether the captain had earned it or not.
"They were and exhaustedand already had the suggestion of ghosts in their minds from the story Hachirohad told them," the policeman said. Then he waved a hand in the air asthough erasing the words. "I assure you, I am not entirely discounting thepossibility of a supernatural explanation for all of this. I simply think wecannot assume one exists without further exploration."
"What of the storm?" Professor Harper asked. "I know that violent changes in weather and freakstorms are not unheard of, but those of us who were on the mountain yesterday feltsomething."
Kara shot her father a look. Thiswas new information. He must have talked to Mr. Yamato and Miss Aritomo aboutit, but had not mentioned it to her. Protecting me, she thought, bothloving him for it and frustrated with him at the same time.
"A feeling is not evidence,Harper-san," Captain Nobunaga said. "And even if the girls did seeghosts, that does not mean that what happened on the mountain is supernatural. Theboys were lost in a blizzard. The one you have found, Sora, is already thesecond to die in such a fashion this winter."
Kara realized he was talkingabout the woman who had frozen to death in the first storm of the season. Sheglanced at Miho and Sakura and saw that they had both reacted to the captain'swords.
"Could her death berelated?" Kara asked.
"How do you mean?" thepoliceman said.
Mr. Yamato quietly cleared histhroat. "Captain, it does seem a bit unusual. I have lived in Miyazu Cityfor a quarter century and have never heard of anyone freezing to death in asnowstorm, on a mountain or otherwise."
The principal glanced at MissAritomo. "Some of us have encountered demons before. That is why we arehere together now, after all. And there are winter demons, are there not? Spiritsof ice and snow?"
Miss Aritomo began to nod, andthen her eyes widened.
"What is it, Yuuka?" Kara'sfather asked worriedly.
The woman's gaze dropped. "Ican't believe it didn't occur to me before," she said, and then looked upat Mr. Yamato. "But you've already guessed, haven't you?"
The principal cocked his head,studying her. "There are many different legends, stories about variousspirits. But I was thinking of one in particular, yes. These boys have gonemissing in a snowstorm. How could I not think of the childhood stories I readabout Yuki-Onna?"
Kara frowned. She had neverheard the name before. But it seemed obvious to her that Sakura and Miho knewit well. They looked confused and then almost amused.
"Yuki-Onna is only a story,"Sakura said.
"So was the Hannya,"Mr. Yamato replied.
Kara thought they all shudderedat that.
"What is Yuki-Onna?" she asked. "I don't. . can one of you tell me, please?"
To her surprise, it was herfather who spoke. "I've read the story, or one version of it, at least. Yuki-Onnais the Lady of the Snows. She's sometimes referred to as a witch or a demon — "
"Like in The Snow Queen,"Kara said.
"She is a popular figure inJapanese stories," Miss Aritomo said, her eyes haunted, her face pale, asthough she might be sick at any moment. "But my favorite version of hertale is one of the rarest, an ancient story in which a woman is killed by thewinter's first snow — "
Kara gasped. "Oh my God."
Miss Aritomo nodded and went on." — and the spirit of winter joins its essence with the ghost of thedead woman, inhabiting her corpse and transforming it from within to become Yuki-Onna,the Lady of the Snows. The Woman in White."
They were all staring at her asif entranced, and Kara realized that none of them had known this variation onthe legend.
The policeman broke the trance,rising quickly to his feet. He pulled out his cell phone and hit a singlebutton, speed-dialing.
"This is Captain Nobunaga. Sendsomeone to the family grave of Etsoku Reizei immediately," he said intothe phone, turning to regard the others in the room. Kara thought even thecaptain's eyes look haunted.
"Why?" he said. "Tellhim I want to know if the urn containing her ashes is still there."
Chapter Seven
Mr. Sato had spent his entirelife striving for an inner peace and balance that would make his parents proud.At forty-seven years of age, he had found purpose in moderation and attemptedto be a model of tranquility and proper behavior for his students. Once,several years before, he had overheard two students conversing about him; oneof them had remarked that he was as difficult to fluster as the guards atEngland's Buckingham Palace. Though they had been mocking him, there had alsobeen a sense of wonder in their voices, and he had been proud of that. The bestway to lead, he had always believed, was by quiet example.
It was a very good thing his studentswere not with him on Takigami Mountain this morning.
His feet still hurt from thefrigid temperatures and hours of searching from the previous day. He had notbeen dressed warmly enough for the blizzard and its aftermath and the cold hadgotten down into his bones and made him exhausted. Today he had thought aheadand dressed in many layers, including a thick green sweater and a heavy winterjacket he had borrowed from a cousin who was fond of snow sports.
Instead of keeping him warm infrigid temperatures, the layers made him sweat. The sun shone brightly today,making it far warmer than yesterday. With the jacket he was too hot, butwithout it the cold made his teeth chatter. His muscles hurt from a combinationof unfamiliar exertion and winter chill. Several times he had stepped intosmall windblown drifts that were deeper than they looked and snow had slid downinside his boots, quickly melting and soaking through his socks.
Mr. Sato did not feel verytranquil today.
Yet he kept his mouth set in agrim line and continued pushing his way through the trees, ducking branches,peeking into any hidden spot that seemed large enough to hide a boy. His handshad gotten sweaty in his gloves and now they were stuffed into his jacketpockets and he had pine sap stuck to his fingers.
"Sato-san!" calledOfficer Fuwa, the leader of their group of searchers. "Any sign of them?"
"Nothing!" Mr. Satoca
lled back.
He could vaguely see thepoliceman and another searcher through the trees. The officer checked theirlocations on a frequency so consistent as to be maddening, but Mr. Sato knew itwas necessary to make certain that no area of the mountain would be missed. Yesterdaythere had been far fewer searchers on the mountain and, though they had donetheir best, the net had been too wide. They had relied on the ability of theboys to respond to their shouts. Now, they all knew they were searching forstudents who might be sick, unconscious, or even dead, though no one wanted todiscuss this last possibility.
Officer Fuwa called out toothers in his assigned group and Mr. Sato heard their distant replies as hetrudged through another small drift that had accumulated amidst a thick standof pines. School had been canceled for the day, but he wondered what wouldhappen tomorrow if they still had not found the missing boys. One death wouldbe hard enough for the rest of the students, but if the others also did notsurvive. . it would be awful. The teachers had all discussed the arrival ofthe new year as a kind of cleansing, putting the horrible events of the prioryear behind them. But now it seemed that fate had further ugliness in store forMonju-no-Chie school. If Mr. Sato didn't know better, he would have thoughtsomeone had put some kind of a curse on the place.
He emerged into a clearing ofsorts, the sun far too bright for January, and finally the sweat of exertion onthe back of his neck became too much for him. With a grunt of displeasure, heremoved his jacket, wishing he had never brought it in the first place. Carryingit around was more work than wearing it, but he needed to cool off again. Glancingaround, he spotted Officer Fuwa in the trees off to his right and a man andwoman together at the western edge of the clearing.
A glance at his watch gave himthe strength for one more push. Officer Fuwa had scheduled a break in fifteenminutes, during which they could smoke or have a bit to eat or something todrink and restore themselves for another hour of hiking the mountain. Theirgroup had only been searching two hours this morning, but already his legs feltlike lead. Slim as he was, he had always assumed himself to be in fairly goodphysical condition for his age, but this experience had changed his mind.
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