Black Lotus

36

Startled faces turned toward Reiko. Haru jerked the sword away from Midori. During a brief silence, Reiko saw herself through everyone else’s eyes-a lone, scared young woman brandishing a dagger.

Then the stillness shattered. Abbess Junketsu-in exclaimed, “It’s Lady Reiko, the sōsakan-sama’s wife!” Kumashiro and the other priests advanced on Reiko.

“Stay away from me,” she commanded with shaky bravado. “I’m taking Lady Midori out of here.” She turned to Haru, who gawked at her. “You’re coming with us.”

Her words sounded foolhardy to herself. Anraku ordered calmly, “Subdue her.”

The priests surrounded Reiko. She stabbed at them, and a tumultuous chase ensued. Reiko whirled and darted, slashing bloody cuts on the arms grabbing at her. The injured men cursed. Kumashiro seized her around the waist, clamped a hand around her right wrist, and wrenched. Pain skewered through her hand, and she cried out in pain, dropping the dagger. Kumashiro’s steely arms encircled her, pinning her arms against her sides. He turned her to face Anraku.

“How rude of you to trespass in my private domain, Lady Reiko,” the high priest said with a sardonic smile.

“You’d better let me go, and Midori, too,” Reiko said, breathless and terrified. “My husband and his troops have invaded the underground. They’ll be here any moment.”

Anraku received her lie with cool amusement, then said to Haru, “So no one saw you enter the underground?”

She shrank from the accusation in his voice. “They didn’t. I swear.”

“Then how did Lady Reiko find us?” Anraku said.

“… I don’t know.”

“Obviously, you showed her the way,” Junketsu-in said spitefully. “You brought her here to attack us.”

“But I didn’t mean to,” Haru protested. “I never thought she would come after me, honest.”

Reiko jerked and grunted, trying in vain to break free of Kumashiro. She’d delayed Midori’s death, but now they were both captives of the Black Lotus.

“The sōsakan-sama will come looking for his wife,” Kumashiro said to Anraku. “We have to get out before he finds his way down here… What do you want me to do with her?”

Anraku raised a hand, counseling patience. “It seems you have betrayed me yet again, Haru,” he said. “Therefore, the task I assigned you is no longer sufficient to demonstrate your loyalty.” He said to Kumashiro, “Place Lady Reiko by our other prisoner.”

Kumashiro propelled Reiko across the room. She resisted, but he shoved her into place, facing Haru. The other sect members grouped together along the wall behind the girl.

“Another act of disloyalty requires an additional test,” Anraku told Haru. “To secure the privilege of staying with me, you must now kill both Lady Midori and Lady Reiko.”

As her heart pumped wildly and her lungs heaved, Reiko realized that she and Midori would die together, by the hand of the girl Reiko had tried to save.

Anraku said to Haru, “You may dispose of Lady Reiko first.”

Through dizzying faintness, Reiko saw Haru looking everywhere except at her. The girl raised the sword, and Kumashiro walked Reiko forward until her throat met the tip of the blade. The cold prick of steel interrupted her breath. She experienced a strong urge to vomit and a terrible despair. Her thoughts flew to her son.

Images of Masahiro’s lively face filled her mind. Memory recalled the sound of his laughter, the feeling of holding his warm little body. Reiko also remembered herself and Sano and Masahiro happy together at home. With a fierce intensity, she longed for her husband and son. Love of them strengthened her will to survive. The desire to save Midori and see Sano and Masahiro again revived her courage and her wits. She must forestall death and hope for a miracle.

Sano, Hirata, and four detectives ran through the Black Lotus precinct, skirting buildings and trees. While they fought off priests, Sano looked for Reiko, to no avail. The smoke stung Sano’s eyes; he ached from strikes to his armor. Another explosion flared. And Sano knew with a sudden, sobering certainty what had happened to Reiko and Haru.

“They’ve gone underground!” he shouted to Hirata, who was battling three priests.

Reasoning that the buildings must contain entrances to the tunnels, Sano raced up the steps of the main hall. The door was open, the cavernous interior unoccupied. Incense and lamps burned on a raised altar before a mural of a black lotus flower. As Sano halted inside and scanned the room, his men joined him. He saw that the altar’s base was fronted by carved panels. The center one hung open on hinges. Darkness yawned behind it.

“Over there,” Sano said, hurrying to the portal that the Black Lotus hordes had apparently neglected to close after emerging from the tunnels.

He and his men ducked beneath the altar and dropped into the earthy-smelling space under the building. Walking crouched beneath the floor joists, they found a hole in the ground. Sano saw a ladder reaching down the shaft to a lighted pit, heard tortured wails and a mechanical pulsation.

“Be careful,” he said. “There’s someone down there.”

“Midori.” Hirata’s voice exuded fear and the hope that she was within reach. “I’ll go down first.”

He sheathed his sword and hurtled down the ladder. Sano and the detectives followed. When they reached the bottom and paused to rearm themselves, Hirata was already racing down a tunnel. An overpowering stench hit Sano as he sped after Hirata. A din of voices crying, “Help! Let us out!” erupted. Down the tunnel, Hirata skidded to a stop and exclaimed, “Merciful gods!”

Catching up, Sano saw doors, bolted with thick iron beams, lining the tunnel. From inside the chambers, skeletal hands reached outward through tiny barred windows in the doors. This was the Black Lotus’s secret prison.

“Midori! I’ve come to get you!” Hirata yanked the bolt away from one cell and threw open the door.

Cheers arose. Out of the cell stumbled some twenty emaciated young men dressed in dirty rags. Their faces were gaunt, their hair shaggy. Sano and the detectives opened other cells, releasing hundreds more men and women in similar condition, who’d apparently run afoul of the Black Lotus. Hirata pushed through the crowd, calling, “Midori!”

Prisoners stampeded toward the exit. Sano and Hirata inspected the cells. They found a few remaining prisoners, too weak to move, but no Midori.

“She’s not here,” Hirata said, stricken by disappointment.

“Stay calm. We’ll find her,” Sano said, although he, too, had hoped to find Midori among the prisoners and was worried about why she wasn’t there. “Midori is alive,” he said, hoping he was right. “We’ll save her, and Reiko too.”

He felt panic erode his own self-control, but his words calmed Hirata, who nodded and assumed a stony composure. They and the detectives hurried deeper into the tunnels. Entering a three-way junction, Sano heard fierce yells. He and his party froze, trapped, as priests waving swords charged toward them from all directions.

“Haru-san,” Reiko compelled herself to say through her terror, “look at me.”

Emitting a frightened mewl, Haru stared at the sword in her hands. Then her gaze slowly rose, drawn by Reiko’s desire to reestablish a connection between them.

“You don’t really want to kill me, do you?” Reiko said, feigning calmness while Kumashiro held her tight and the sword’s sharp touch contracted her throat muscles.

Haru said with defiant bravado, “I have no choice.”

Reiko’s heart sank. Haru’s choice was between their friendship and Anraku, and Reiko knew how the odds lay. “We all have choices,” Reiko said, improvising fast. “I chose to take your side when no one else did. I chose to help you against my husband’s wishes. Don’t you owe me a favor?”

Haru’s mouth worked; uncertainty clouded her eyes. But as Reiko dared to hope, Kumashiro said to Anraku, “Time is short. If Haru won’t kill Lady Reiko, I can.”

Reiko sensed his blood lust in the hot pressure of his flesh against hers. Suddenly the clattering noise stopped. Quiet settled upon the underground; everyone looked around in surprise.

“The slaves have deserted the air bellows,” Kumashiro said. “Soon we won’t be able to breathe down here. Let me dispose of the prisoners so we can go.”

“No. It is Haru’s duty,” Anraku said firmly.

A new resolve set Haru’s jaw. Anraku fixed a tantalizing stare on Reiko. She saw that this had become a contest between them. He cared less about making a timely escape than about controlling his followers, because his desire for power over them outweighed all other concerns. But Reiko was competing for her life.

“Haru-san, he doesn’t deserve your loyalty,” she said. “After the fire, did he try to protect you? No-he let you shift for yourself. When you were in jail, did he comfort you?” Reiko shook her head regretfully. “He never came near you. Did he try to clear your name and save you from execution? On the contrary: He left you to the law.”

“I don’t care about the past,” Haru said belligerently. “All that matters is that Anraku-san and I are together again.”

But Reiko could tell that Haru did mind his desertion. “He and his followers did everything possible to incriminate you,” Reiko said. “Dr. Miwa and Abbess Junketsu-in revealed your bad reputation. Kumashiro tried to force you to confess. The orphans placed you at the scene of the crime. Black Lotus priests attacked you in jail.”

“That was their own doing,” Haru faltered.

Anraku radiated a confidence that scorned Reiko’s plan to break his hold on Haru.

“But Anraku knows everything, doesn’t he?” Reiko said.

Haru hesitated, then nodded.

“And everyone in the Black Lotus serves and obeys him?”

“… Yes.” Haru’s expression turned wary.

“Then he not only knew how your enemies tried to destroy you,” Reiko said, “he must have ordered them to do it.”

“No!” Glaring at Reiko, Haru said, “He wouldn’t.”

Yet she withdrew the sword and stole an uneasy glance at Anraku. Displeasure darkened his aspect.

“Oh, yes, he would.” Reiko listened for sounds indicating that Sano’s troops had invaded the tunnels, but heard none. Since the bellows had stopped, the atmosphere had become stale; the suffocating smoke from the lamps increased her sense of urgency. Midori stirred, yawning: she would soon awake. Reiko tried to believe that rescue was near. “I’ll tell you why.”

“You’re just trying to mix me up.” Haru took an aggressive step toward Reiko. Fresh terror pumped through Reiko’s blood as she strained away from the blade and Kumashiro immobilized her. Haru appealed to Anraku: “I don’t have to listen to her, do I?”

“No, indeed,” Anraku said. “Just kill her, and she’ll speak no more.”

“He wanted to make sure you were blamed for Commander Oyama’s death.” Reiko swallowed desperation. “But he also wanted you blamed for the crimes you didn’t commit.” She saw Haru’s forehead contract in bewilderment, and hurried on, “Remember Nurse Chie and the little boy. You really didn’t kill them, did you?”

The trial hadn’t filled in the major gap in Sano’s case against Haru- her lack of motive for the other two murders. Reiko had never believed that Haru had killed the woman and child, and in spite of her disillusionment with Haru, she still didn’t believe it.

Haru was nodding, though wariness lurked in her eyes. Reiko said, “If you didn’t kill Chie and the boy, then someone else in the Black Lotus did.”

As Haru looked around at the other people in the room, her features sharpened with suspicion.

“Someone set you up to be punished for his crimes,” Reiko said, feeling sudden tension in Kumashiro’s body. “Someone wanted you executed so he-or she-could go free.”

The eight priests seemed indifferent to Haru’s scrutiny, but Abbess Junketsu-in and Dr. Miwa averted their eyes from her, their expressions suddenly guarded. Haru’s gaze came to rest on Anraku, whose face took on an ominous intensity.

“Yes,” Reiko said. “Even if he didn’t kill Chie and the boy with his own hands, he ordered their deaths. He meant for you to die, too.” Haru shook her head vigorously, but her stricken countenance belied the denial. Reiko challenged the high priest: “Didn’t you?”

Anraku’s tongue rolled inside his cheek, and Reiko saw from his discomfiture that she’d placed him in an intolerable position, as she’d meant to do. Either he must acknowledge his guilt and weaken his influence over Haru, or admit that he didn’t control everything that happened. He didn’t want to lose this contest with Reiko, but neither could he afford to have his omnipotence exposed as a fraud.

Wicked inspiration glinted in the high priest’s eye. He spoke to Abbess Junketsu-in: “You shall tell us about the events leading up to the fire in the cottage.”

“Me?” Junketsu-in blanched as everyone looked at her. “But-I don’t know anything. I-”

Anraku’s gaze captured hers, and she halted. Her resistance dissolved as his will subdued her. She said meekly, “That night I was walking alone in the precinct, when I saw two girls sneak out of the orphanage.”

So she hadn’t been in her quarters with her attendants as she’d claimed, Reiko observed. She realized that Anraku had cleverly diverted Haru’s suspicion from himself to the abbess, and she’d lost a round in her fight for her life. But here was her chance to learn the truth about the murders and fire, and the telling of the story bought her more time.

“I meant to send the girls back to bed,” Junketsu-in went on, “but then I spotted Haru walking ahead of them. They were following her. I wanted to know what she was doing, so I followed, too. When we got near the cottage, the other two girls turned and headed back toward the orphanage. I hid behind a tree so they wouldn’t see me. Then I continued after Haru.

“There was a light in the cottage. She slipped through the door. I stood outside and watched through the window. I saw Haru with Commander Oyama. His legs were around her neck, and she was screaming. He shouted at her. Then they were fighting, and she hit him on the head with a statue and killed him.”

While Junketsu-in described watching Haru come out of the cottage, hide the statue, and return to the scene of Oyama’s death, Reiko listened in utter amazement. Here was Haru’s exact story, confirmed by a witness who had no reason to lie for the girl’s benefit. Haru had told the truth about how Oyama died!

“I thought of how Commander Oyama had arrested me and doomed me to whoredom in the Yoshiwara and forced me to service him here, and I was so delighted by his death that I laughed.” Vindictive glee shone in the abbess’s eyes. “And at last I’d caught Haru at something bad enough to persuade Anraku to throw her out of the temple.”

Clearly, the abbess had hated Oyama and relished the turn of fate that had not only punished him, but placed Haru in her power. Junketsu-in hadn’t cared whether Haru was punished by the law, as long as the girl no longer troubled her, and Reiko guessed why she hadn’t reported Haru later.

“Then I remembered that I was the only one who’d seen Haru kill Oyama,” the abbess said, confirming Reiko’s guess. “She could deny everything. It would be my word against hers, and Anraku might take her side. She could get away with murder!”

Outrage shook Junketsu-in’s voice. “But I wouldn’t let her. After I followed her back to the cottage, I slipped off my sandals, which had thick wooden soles, and grabbed one.” The abbess raised her hand, the fingers curled around an imaginary shoe. “I stole up behind Haru, and I hit her on the head with my sandal.”

Junketsu-in pantomimed the blow. “Haru fell down and didn’t move, but she was breathing. I went to the storehouse and got some oil and rags. I tied the rags around a stick to make a torch. Then I returned to the cottage. Haru was still unconscious. The lantern was still burning in the room where she’d left Commander Oyama, and I lit the torch there. I poured oil on the floor and along the corridor, and I ran around splashing more kerosene on the outside of the cottage. I touched the torch to the wall, and it burst into flames. I tucked the oil jar in the bushes and put on my shoes. Then I went back to my quarters, leaving Haru lying in the garden. I knew that her husband had died in a fire, and I wanted people to think she’d burned Oyama to death.”

This was how Haru had come to be found at the scene, ready to receive the blame for the fire and Oyama’s murder, Reiko understood at last. A wondrous sense of vindication momentarily lifted her above her fear. Haru hadn’t murdered Oyama in cold blood; she hadn’t set the fire. That she was innocent of those crimes indicated that her husband’s death had been accidental, as she’d claimed. Haru was indeed a liar and troublemaker, yet also a victim. Reiko’s instincts had been true all along.

Haru had been listening with an expression of mingled disbelief and confusion. She said to Junketsu-in, “It was you who framed me.”

The abbess sneered. “I just made you face the consequences of your actions.”

“And you killed Chie and Radiant Spirit.” Now Haru spoke in a tone of angry realization. “You were jealous of them because Anraku liked Chie, and Radiant Spirit was his son.”

“I had nothing to do with their deaths,” Junketsu-in retorted. “They weren’t even in the cottage when I was there.”

Reiko, elated by personal triumph, seized the chance to reintroduce the issue of Anraku’s culpability. “The abbess’s story explains why you were unconscious in the garden and couldn’t remember anything about the fire,” she said, “but not how Chie and the boy died. That was Anraku’s doing.”

Haru swiveled her head toward Anraku, refocusing her fury on him. New hope kindled in Reiko, but he gave her a disdainful smile and said, “Dr. Miwa shall tell the rest of the story.”

Behind Haru, the doctor started in fear; air whistled through his teeth. “Oh, but-” Anraku’s gaze impaled him, and he surrendered. “Chie became unhappy here after she bore her son. She wanted to care for Radiant Spirit herself, but the nuns took him away to raise with the other children and rarely allowed her to see him. She disliked the way the children were trained. She couldn’t understand that prayer and fasting builds their spirits, and she complained whenever Radiant Spirit was beaten for disobeying.”

Reiko thought of the boy’s bruises and emaciated body, the result of the cruel indoctrination.

“Soon Chie began questioning our other practices,” Dr. Miwa said. “She objected to my experiments-she said it was wrong to give helpless people medicines that made them sick instead of healing them. She demanded to know the purpose of the potions we mixed. When she learned that they were poisons for contaminating the wells in Edo, she tried to persuade me that what we were doing was wrong. She begged me to stop. We argued, and she ran from me.”

The maltreatment of the child had broken down Chie’s loyalty to the sect, Reiko noted. The argument that Haru had described to Sano really had occurred, although he’d misinterpreted it.

“But I didn’t kill Chie,” said Dr. Miwa, quailing as Haru wheeled around and pointed the sword at him. “All I did was tell Kumashiro that she was becoming a problem.”

A chill coursed through Reiko. The doctor had passed along the “problem” to the man holding her-the man responsible for the deaths of Chie and son. Now, as Anraku fixed his compelling gaze on Kumashiro, Reiko felt the priest stiffen, then yield.

“I had Chie watched,” Kumashiro said. “Just before dawn on the day of the fire, she stole her son from the nursery. My men and I caught them as they were running toward the gate. I dealt with them according to the usual procedure for handling escapees.”

By strangling them, Reiko thought, appalled by Kumashiro’s callousness and abhorring the close physical contact with him.

“As my men and I carried the bodies to the tunnel entrance, a watchman ran up and said the cottage was on fire. He’d found Haru unconscious outside. That gave me an idea. We took the bodies to the burning cottage and put them inside. We saw Commander Oyama lying dead in the other room. It seemed that Haru had killed him and set the fire to cover up what she’d done. Why not implicate her in the other deaths? Then the police would be sure to arrest her. I organized the attack on her in jail, to make sure she confessed.”

At last Reiko fully understood why Haru had known nothing about the other murders. She also understood why Kumashiro, Junketsu-in, and Miwa had been so eager to incriminate Haru, yet so evasive when she’d questioned them. They’d all played roles in the crimes, while Kumashiro and Junketsu-in had separately taken advantage of Haru’s actions.

The girl regarded her enemies with hatred. She said to Anraku, “They all hurt me. You’ll punish them, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Anraku promised gravely, “after you pass your test.” He canted his chin toward Reiko.

“If Anraku is all-powerful, then he caused the wrongs they did you,” she said. “He let you down then; if you stay with him, he will again. Don’t do his dirty work.”

Haru moaned, and the sword shuddered in her hands. A malicious smile thinned Anraku’s mouth. “Lady Reiko only helped you as a means of attacking me. What does she offer you in exchange for sparing her life?” he said to Haru. “Freedom?” He laughed. “She came here to capture you. Unless you earn my protection, she’ll turn you over to the law.”

He’d spoken the damning argument that Reiko had hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to use. Despair washed over her while she watched Haru absorb his words. The girl looked momentarily nonplussed, then beheld Reiko with hurt and dawning anger.

“His protection is just an illusion,” Reiko said quickly. “He can’t escape justice. He can’t save you.”

“Shut up!” Haru yelled, furious. “Stop keeping me from doing what I have do!”

With the sword wavering between her and her executioner, Reiko rushed on: “Anraku is an evil madman. He would kill you and everyone else in the world to please himself. He’s ultimately responsible for all the ills that you’ve suffered since you came to the Black Lotus Temple. “ Encouraged by Haru’s hesitancy, Reiko said, “You called me your friend. You said you loved me and want to make up for the trouble you caused me. Now is your chance.”

The girl began shaking violently, wracked by opposing impulses, but she kept the sword aimed at Reiko. Her eyes blazed with blind compulsion; a growling sound issued through her bared teeth. Reiko saw Anraku’s smug smile; the other sect members waited, their gazes averted from her and Haru, expecting violence. Haru, wheezing furiously, moved the weapon sideways and stood poised to strike. And Reiko realized with helpless futility that she’d lost the contest. She was going to die. She’d failed to capture Haru and save herself and Midori; she would never see Sano or Masahiro again.

Reiko wanted to scream out her terror, to shut her eyes in anticipation of the blade slicing her throat. But a samurai woman must face death with courage and dignity. Trembling in Kumashiro’s grip, Reiko silently prayed that fortune would bless her husband and son and she would be reunited with them someday. She looked straight at Haru and steeled herself for the pain, the spill of her blood, the plunge into oblivion.

Suddenly Haru’s growl erupted into a loud roar. She whirled, swinging the sword around. The blade cut Dr. Miwa deeply across the stomach. Uttering a cry of dismay, he clutched the bleeding wound. Junketsu-in screamed. Reiko gaped in stunned disbelief. Shock and anger erased Anraku’s smile. He barked out, “Haru!”

Shrieking as if insane, the girl spun and lunged, slashing at random. The priests shouted, “Look out!” They scattered, bumping one another, trying to avoid Haru.

“Stop her,” Anraku ordered.

Kumashiro let go of Reiko, drew his short sword, and charged after Haru. Reiko hurriedly crouched beside Midori and shook her. “Midori-san, wake up. We’ve got to get out.”

“Reiko-san?” Midori mumbled sleepily. Opening bleary eyes, she frowned. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

“Never mind.” Reiko hauled Midori upright. “Come on.”

Supporting her friend’s limp, heavy body, she staggered toward the door. She heard Anraku call, “Catch them!” Kumashiro turned, saw them, and swiftly blocked their way.

“Put her down,” he said, pointing his sword at Reiko. “Stay where you are.”

Reiko floundered backward, dragging Midori with her. Around them, Haru continued her rampage. Dr. Miwa lay dead on the floor next to Junketsu-in, who stuck out her foot so that Haru tripped and went sprawling. The sword, knocked out of her hand, slid across the floor toward Reiko. Quickly, Reiko bent and snatched up the weapon.

“Get out of our way,” she commanded Kumashiro.

Then she heard shouts, metallic clashes, and a stampede of footsteps outside the room. Through the door burst six samurai battling as many sword-wielding priests. Reiko recognized Sano and his men. Her heart leapt with joy.

“Hirata-san!” Midori cried.

Hirata’s face lit up at the sight of Midori. He shouted her name, then continued striking at his opponents. As the room became a maelstrom of flashing blades and colliding combatants, Anraku stayed on his platform, watching with a peculiar euphoria. His eight priests fled out the door, while the abbess cowered in a corner. Kumashiro joined in the battle.

“Reiko-san,” Sano shouted, dodging Kumashiro’s strikes. “Protect Midori.”

Clutching her friend’s hand, Reiko wielded her sword against the priests, while Midori huddled behind her.

“Haru.” Anraku’s voice, eerily calm, rose above the noise.

The girl was scrambling for cover, but she paused and turned toward the high priest.

“Come here,” Anraku said.

She rose and walked to his platform. Her step was hesitant, but she seemed irresistibly drawn to Anraku.

Sano cut down one priest and Hirata another. Four remained; the battle raged on. Reiko, guarding Midori, risked a glance at Anraku. What was he doing?

“You have failed the test,” Anraku said to Haru, his silky tone replete with disapproval.

“Please, give me another chance,” Haru begged.

Anraku shook his head; his smile mocked her anxiety. “Your betrayals number too many for forgiveness. You must be punished.” Pointing at Haru and gazing deep into her eyes, he intoned, “I plant inside you the seed of the Black Lotus.”

Haru pressed a hand to her abdomen, looking disturbed, as if she really felt something enter her body.

Now Sano, Hirata, and the other samurai had slain all their opponents except Kumashiro, who fought ferociously. Junketsu-in dashed toward the door, but a soldier caught her.

“The seed sprouts roots that invade you.” Spreading his fingers in illustration, Anraku elicited pained yelps from Haru. “The seedling sends forth shoots, filling your veins, entwining your bones, and piercing your muscles.”

Haru began to tremble and moan; terror glazed her eyes as she clutched at herself, feeling for the alien growth.

With amazement, Reiko saw that Haru believed so strongly in Anraku’s powers that the spell could physically hurt her. Reiko hurried the dazed Midori to a corner and sat her down. “Stay here,” she said, then rushed toward the platform.

Anraku’s hypnotic voice continued, “The leaves unfurl, their knifelike edges tearing and penetrating, spilling blood. The stalk pierces your heart. A huge bud forms.”

Haru grabbed her chest, wheezing loudly. “It hurts. I can’t breathe!” she cried in panic.

“The bud grows larger and larger,” Anraku said. His eye glowed brighter; his smile reflected enjoyment of her suffering.

“It’s killing me.” Spasms jarred Haru, and her complexion turned livid. She dropped to her knees. “Please, take it out!”

“Stop,” Reiko shouted at Anraku. Raising her sword, she ordered, “Leave Haru alone.”

The high priest ignored Reiko. “Feel the lotus bud begin to flower,” he told Haru. “The petals are pure black and razor-sharp. As they spring open, they lacerate your heart.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Reiko saw Sano’s blade cut deeply into Kumashiro’s thigh. The priest stumbled and sank to his knees. With his face set in a scowl of desperation and the cut spurting blood, he lashed his blade at the samurai surrounding him, until Hirata wounded his arm. His sword went flying. Sano and Hirata wrestled him down.

Frantically gasping for air, Haru sobbed. “I’ll die!”

“That is the fate of enemies of the Black Lotus,” Anraku said, gloating. He extended his fists, knuckles facing Haru. “When the flower reaches full bloom, your life shall cease.”

Reiko grabbed Haru’s shoulder, urging,”Look away. Don’t listen. He’s a fraud. He can’t hurt you unless you let him.”

But Haru’s gaze seemed magnetically locked onto Anraku’s. Keening in agony, the girl clawed open her robe, trying to tear the flower out of her chest. Her fingernails left bloody scratches on her skin. Reiko leapt up on the platform.

“Stop, or I’ll kill you!” she told Anraku.

“Your time has come,” he said with a triumphant smile at Haru.

His fingers shot open. Haru screamed, as if pierced by invisible blades. Her back arched and her limbs splayed. Incensed, Reiko slashed Anraku down his chest. He lurched, then crumpled onto his side. His face was luminous with rapture, his eye focused on some faraway vista.

“Enlightenment at last,” he whispered.

A spasm contorted his features and body. His radiance dimmed, and death veiled his eye. Anraku had met the destiny he’d prophesied.

Reiko dropped the sword and leapt off the platform. “Haru-san.” Kneeling, she touched the girl’s cheek. “What’s happened to you?”

No answer came. Haru’s open eyes were sightless; blood trickled from her mouth. Gravity relaxed her features, and her terrified expression faded as Reiko watched. She was dead.

A terrible grief seized Reiko as she cradled Haru’s head in her lap. The girl had remained in the thrall of the Black Lotus and ultimately succumbed to Anraku. They had indeed shared a destiny; they would be together always, as she’d wished. But Haru had chosen friendship for Reiko over her devotion to the high priest. By saving Reiko’s life at the expense of her own, she’d atoned for her evils. And Reiko hadn’t even had a chance to thank Haru. Now it was too late.

It was too late for all the disturbed souls who’d fallen under the influence of the Black Lotus and died tonight.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the horrors of the day, Reiko sobbed. Nearby, she saw Hirata embracing Midori, but there was no consolation for herself.

Then Reiko felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Sano standing beside her. His eyes were filled with a compassion for her that she’d thought gone forever. He drew her to her feet and held her close. As she wept against the hard plates of his armor, he led her out of the room.