A Winter of Ghosts

by Christopher Golden

  The wind scooped her off theground, her boots dangling beneath her. Miho spun, arms outflung, breath stolenfrom her lungs, ice crusting her whole body. And then she fell, hit the snowand rolled. When she looked up, she saw that the others had all been tossedaround as well. They lay sprawled in the snow, trying to climb to their feet,as the ghosts scattered to hide in the trees.

  Kubo stood alone, unmasked,unprotected.

  As Yuki-Onna glided toward him,floating above the snow, the storm carrying and caressing her. Her jaws openedwide, rows of teeth stained with blood, white hair flowing.

  With a gesture, she stole Kubo'sbreath. He clutched at his throat, and ice began to form around his face andhands, covering his eyes.

  Mai sat in the passenger seatwhile Ume drove them toward Takigami Mountain. At the hospital, only a fewflakes had fluttered lazily from the sky. But now she leaned over to lookthrough the windshield and could barely see the mountain ahead. The snow wasnot coming down terribly hard, but the mountain was a white blur. Winter hadclaimed it, hidden it, almost as if it had been dragged from this world intoanother.

  "Don't go to the parkinglot," Sakura said from the back seat.

  "What?" Ume said,frowning. "Why?"

  "Take the next left. Whenit forks to the right, go that way. I will tell you when to stop."

  Mai shuddered. She thought sheheard something different in Sakura's voice. Something. . other. She turnedin her seat and studied the girl in the back seat. Sakura had changed quicklyin the hospital, pulling on a thick sweater and jacket, black pants and boots. Shehad removed the bandages wrapped around her head. They were spotted with blood,which had gotten sticky and matted her hair in one spot. Mai thought someonehad said there were stitches in her scalp, but that the doctors had not beensure how much damage might have been done to her brain. Her skull had beencracked or fractured or something like that.

  But not anymore.

  "Sakura?" Maiventured.

  The girl in the back seat lookedlike Sakura. Same eyes, same nose, same severe, jagged haircut. But somethingin her expression seemed different, and the voice. . she did not sound thesame.

  The girl in the back seat shookher head.

  "You're not Sakura?" Ume asked, a fearful tremor in her voice.

  "Ume!" Mai yelled.

  The storm had become blindingnow, the visibility perhaps ten feet beyond the nose of the car, and with herattention on the rearview mirror, Ume had nearly driven them into a ditch.

  She spun the wheel to rightthem. The tires skidded, the rear of the car slewing sideways. One or twotense, heart-pounding seconds passed and then they were shooting along the roadagain. A road appeared on the left.

  "There," Sakura said,pointing.

  Ume braked carefully and tookthe turn onto the side road, then rolled onto the side road bent over thesteering wheel, looking for the fork.

  "So where is Sakura?" Mai asked. She hadn't meant to, wasn't sure she wanted the answer, but thewords had just popped out.

  Sakura looked at her — orsomeone did, using Sakura's eyes. "She's here. We're both here."

  Ume's voice, when she spoke, wasa mouse-squeak. "Akane?"

  The ghost, the girl in the backseat, said "Keep your eyes on the road."

  "I'm sorry," Ume said,voice still small and broken.

  Mai wasn't sure if she wasapologizing for nearly crashing the car or for something else, for her greatestsin, and she did not ask. This was between Ume and her heart, between Ume andthe ghost of the girl whose life she had taken.

  A moment later, Ume turned rightat the fork and they were driving through several inches of snow, the tiresslipping, then catching. The mountain loomed up on the right, the bottom of theslope and the woods less than a hundred yards away.

  "What now?" Mai asked.

  "Follow the ghosts,"said the girl in the back seat.

  Mai was about to ask what shemeant, but then Ume squeaked again and Mai looked up, and they all saw theapparitions looming in the storm ahead. They were pointing to a small pull-offthat looked to lead up the mountain.

  Ume went where the spiritsindicated. Neither she nor Mai said a word. Mai's breath was caught in herthroat. But she could not truly say she was surprised. After all, it had been awinter of ghosts.

  Kara and Miss Aritomo approachedthe cave from the south. Snow had gotten into their clothes, up sleeves andinside collars, and with the cold came a terrible despair. More than once Karathought of turning around, but her friends needed her and it was a long wayback to the parking lot, now. Miss Aritomo must have considered it as well, butneither gave voice to the temptation. Or if Yuuka did speak, Kara did not hearher over the rage of winter that churned around them. They had given up tryingto talk to each other. Kara trudged after the ghosts and Miss Aritomo trudged afterKara, and in that way they found themselves on a trail that seemed almost cutinto the mountain slope, and then the dark mouth of the cave was there, loomingup on the right.

  She saw Kubo first. The old monkseemed frozen, jagged ice forming on his arms and snow frosting his beard andhair. And yet he was still moving. Kara saw his hands in motion, fingerscontorting, and suddenly the storm seemed to die around him. Not everywhere.. not where Kara stood, or anywhere else on the mountain. But suddenly itseemed as though Kubo stood inside some protective sphere. The snow partedaround him, blew past him, and like a wet dog he shook off the ice that hadclung to him.

  Only then did Kara seeYuki-Onna. She had been hidden by the pines above the mouth of the cave but nowshe glided into view, her beautiful face contorted into ugliness by fury and byevil. Her jaws were wide, her teeth bloody, and she screamed in frustration andpointed elongated fingers at him.

  "Kara, hide!" MissAritomo said, trying to pull her into the mouth of the cave.

  The snow on the ground flowedtogether like crashing waves, freezing into a solid ridge of jagged ice, allrippling across the ground toward Kubo. The old monk seemed to inflate asthough from a deep breath, held out his hands in a meditative pose, and hunghis head. Two feet from where it would have impaled him, the ice ridgeshattered and fell away.

  Kara wanted to cheer. As shemoved nearer, she saw others in the snow beyond Kubo. At first she thought theywere more ghosts, but they began to rise from the snow and her heart soared atthe unmistakable sight of Hachiro. She knew him by size alone, by the tilt ofhis head and the way he held himself. Ren and Mr. Yamato and Miho were withhim.

  Hachiro's alive! Shecouldn't believe it. She had not allowed herself to believe anything else, butin her secret heart the doubts had started to grow. Her body flooded withrelief and then that was washed away by an overwhelming surge of love thatfilled her so completely that she could barely breathe. It warmed her, burningthe cold from her bones, at least for a few moments.

  But then Kubo turned to lookdirectly at her — somehow he had sensed her there — and she saw theurgency and the pain in his eyes. What are you doing just standing here? shethought. Kubo had made it clear he did not believe he could destroy Yuki-Onnaand Kara had just stood watching.

  She spun toward Miss Aritomo."The ritual. We've got to do the ritual."

  "How? We don't have Sakuraor Ume!"

  Kara heard a cry of pain echoacross the mountainside, and then the storm swept it away. She turned to seeYuki-Onna and Kubo. The witch gripped the old man by the throat, lifting himoff the ground, and whatever mystic rite had protected Kubo from her could notprevent a physical attack. The snow spun around him now, and Kara stared inhorror as the old monk's flesh began to turn blue in the snow woman's grasp.

  Kubo was freezing to death.

  Miss Aritomo grabbed Kara's armand spun her around again, pointing down the mountain at a group of ghostsmaking their way toward them. They passed through the trees, insubstantial,untouched by the storm. . or at least some of them did.

  Kara wiped snow from her eyes. Threeof the figures were not ghosts. She saw Mai and Ume, and then she recognizedthe third.

  "Sakura?" she said,jaw dropping in astonishment. "But how �
�� "

  "The ritual!" MissAritomo shouted.

  Kara glanced at Kubo — sawice crystals and gray, dead patches of frostbite blossoming on his cheeks — and then she ran to meet Sakura and the ghosts.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The ghosts were insubstantial,but Yuki-Onna existed in two worlds at once. She was both tangible andintangible, spirit and storm and flesh, and when the ghosts attacked her, shescreamed and began to beat at them, snap her jaws at them, tear bits of themaway with those shark teeth.

  But they had diverted her, andher grip on Kubo broke. He fell to the ground.

  The storm faltered, the snowslowing, the wind lessening. . but only for a moment. The Woman in Whitestretched out her arms as though conducting a symphony and suddenly the windcould touch the ghosts as well. . and yet Kara could no longer feel it. Thewind had begun to blow in another place, a world between life and death wherethese spirits had lingered, clinging to the lives they did not want to leavebehind.

  "Hurry!" Kara snapped.

  But she need not have bothered. Sakuragrabbed Ume by the hand and dragged her toward Kubo, and Kara's mind spun withthe sight. Sakura had been unconscious, even comatose, with major damage to herskull. How she was up and running Kara had no idea. It seemed impossible. Karahad grown used to impossible things, but they were always terrible, and herewas something that was both impossible and wonderful. She had to force herselfto focus on the ritual, on Kubo, instead of on Sakura and Hachiro and Ren, andthe fact that they were all, for the moment, still alive.

  Because Kubo was dying. A sweet,funny, venerable old man, this monk, but also a mystical adept, the only onewho could perform the ritual that would break the curse on them.

  "Master Kubo!" Karacried as she ran to him and dropped to her knees in the snow.

  He looked ancient, now, sicklyand shaking with cold. His eyes were tired and almost opaque, but not blind. Hesaw her, and he glanced around at the others. Mai and Ume hung back, but Sakuracame close, almost gliding herself, a kind of ethereal beauty about her and aserenity in her eyes that seemed so strange in the midst of the rage of thisstorm, with the ghosts trying to restrain Yuki-Onna so close by.

  Miss Aritomo ran to Mr. Yamato,the two of them shouting to be heard over the wind, telling Kara and the othersto hurry. Miho and Ren came over to Kubo and dropped to their knees oppositeKara.

  Hachiro knelt in the snow besideher. His eyes were haunted, his face gaunt with starvation, and she knew he hadbeen through hell these last three days. But he reached down and took her hand,held it tight, fingers twined with hers, and she saw that the Hachiro she lovedwas still there, deep down inside this tormented boy.

  All those who were there whenKyuketsuki had been destroyed and driven from the world, Kara thought. Notjust the cursed — her and Miho and Sakura — but all of them. Hachirowas beside her, but Ume had still not approached.

  "Ume, come on!" Karashouted to be heard over the storm.

  But the tall, statuesque girl,the former Queen of the Soccer Bitches, only shook her head. She tried to backaway but Mai put an arm around her and urged her forehead. Ume stared at the ghostsand Yuki-Onna, tearing at one another, and she began to cry, her tears freezingon her cheeks.

  "Ume, it must be now!" Sakura said.

  Kara frowned. It had sounded asthough two voices spoke in unison, two people speaking from one mouth. Was thatjust the storm, some weird echo? Kara studied her face and realized it had ahardness, a grim twist of the mouth, that were nothing like Sakura at all.

  And then in an instant, herexpression changed, softening. Even her eyes seemed to lighten with a kindnessand understanding that hadn't been there a moment before. Sakura held out ahand.

  "Ume, please," Sakurasaid, and now her voice, and her face, were hers alone.

  Yuki-Onna tore free of theghosts and rushed at them. The ghosts howled like the wind — Kara realizedshe had heard them before but they had sounded so far away and now they wereright here with her, closer than ever somehow. The spirits grabbed hold ofYuki-Onna again.

  "Little monk, I will haveyour flesh and blood!" the witch screamed, reaching out to slash at theair 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 wasunprotected, and so were the teachers. . and so was Kubo.

  Mr. Yamato and Miss Aritomo ranforward, trying to help the ghosts protect the old monk, reaching forYuki-Onna.

  "No!" Kara shouted,but they couldn't hear over the wind.

  The witch shot them a singlelook that paralyzed them both. Their masks had not helped them. They had lookedher in the eye and, like the victims of Medusa, paid the price. Seconds moreand she might freeze them solid, ice inside and out, but the ghosts grappledwith her again.

  "Ume, please!" Sakurasaid again.

  Ume took her hand and togetherthey 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 oneelbow, wheezing. From inside his robe he unsheathed a small, thin knife andhanded it to Kara.

  "You bleed."

  Kara took a deep breath. Theothers all stared at her. Hachiro and Ume looked horrified, but the others hadall been warned. Ren backed away from the old monk. The ritual to break thecurse did not involve him, and he seemed very relieved at that.

  She tugged off her gloves. Placingthe small blade against her palm, she turned to look at Hachiro. Staring intohis eyes, she sliced her palm. As numb as her hands were, pain seared throughher and she hissed through her teeth but did not break her gaze as she gave theknife to Hachiro.

  He kept his eyes glued to hersas he followed suit.

  The moment the first drop ofKara'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 akeening, almost mournful song in some dialect she could not translate at all.

  One by one they all took theknife — Hachiro handed it to Miho, who gave it to Sakura, who in turnpassed it on to Ume — and one by one they cut, and bled, even Ume. Herexpression had become one of resignation, of guilt, and of sorrow. One by onethey each made a fist.

  Yuki-Onna thrashed against theghosts. Kara could not help looking, and she saw that there were perhaps twodozen of them, maybe even more. Most she did not know, but the familiar faceswere there — Jiro and Hana, Chouku and Daisuke, and poor Sora — andthey were fierce and terrible to behold, but she loved them all so much in thatmoment.

  Kubo's song grew louder and herose, gesturing to Mai and Ren, who rushed in to help the old man up to asitting position. He gestured to Kara, who put her bleeding fist forward, andthen to the others, nodding as he sang, and they opened their hands andtogether 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 themin 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 betogether. Repeat after me. .

  "I feel the wind as itpasses by, and I bend with it.

  "I feel the rain as it runsdown my face, and I drink of it.

  "I feel time rush by like ariver, and I flow with it.

  "They touch me and aregone.

  "Shadows vanish at sunrise.

  "All things move on, exceptfor those I hold in my heart.

  "The mark of evil is washedaway in blood,

  "And cleansed by the watersof the river of time.

  "The wind and the rain andthe 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 heartsturn from me.

  "They have no power overme.

  "And I am made new."
/>
  In unison they repeated thewords after Kubo, their voices rising in a forceful wave somewhere betweenchant and song. Wakana, Miss Aritomo, Ren, and Mr. Yamato looked on, but Karasaw they were only half-paying attention to the ritual. In the midst of thestorm and the rage of Yuki-Onna, the ghosts tormenting her, holding the witchback from finishing the job she'd begun of killing Kubo, they were terrifiedand freezing. They warmed each other, comforted each other, and stared, perhapseach praying his or her own private prayers.

  Halfway through the chant, Karalooked up and saw something beautiful and unsettling. Sakura had become twopeople. She was there, across from Kara, open palm bleeding into the snow infront 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. Theghost 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-achingbeauty of it.

  Kubo looked up when the chanthad finished. "It is done," he said.

  As if in reply, the storm roaredand Yuki-Onna screamed with such ferocity that they all looked over at her. Thewinter witch tore away from the ghosts, leaving parts of herself behind. Herbeauty had fled and all that remained was her hunger for death, the cruelestpart 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 todrag him away.

  Yuki-Onna lifted Ren with awhirling funnel of snow and raging wind and hurled him into the trees. Karaheard something snap and hoped it was branches. She reached out long fingerstoward Hachiro's face and Kara screamed, knowing she would freeze him solid andhe would be just as dead as Sora, just another of the winter's ghosts.