A Winter of Ghosts (The Waking Series) (21 page)

"No, no, Kara. Your father
is here as well. His room is at the other end of this corridor. The doctor
intended to move you into his room today, once you were awake and feeling a
little better."

"And he's all right?"

Yuuka brushed a lock of hair
away from her delicate, pretty face. "He had frostbite as well. Worse than
yours. The doctors had to remove two of his toes and the little finger of his
left hand. He has several broken ribs. Otherwise he is going to be all right. He's
been asking for you, but the doctor won't let him get out of bed. He's on pain
medication and his ribs are much too tender."

Kara nodded slowly, taking that
in. Awful, but her father would survive. They would be all right.

"What about Sakura?"

Miss Aritomo glanced at Miho,
who wore a thin smile, her face partially veiled by her long hair. Miho took
off her glasses and opened her mouth to speak, and then her smile shattered. Her
lower lip quivered and she began to cry.

"Oh, no," Kara said.
"Miho, come on. Don't . . ." She looked at Miss Aritomo. "What's
wrong with Sakura?"

Miss Aritomo put her arm around
Miho for a moment, then broke away and came to sit on the edge of Kara's bed. She
took Kara's undamaged hand in her own.

"Sakura is still
unconscious," the art teacher said. Her smile was kind, but Kara barely
registered it. "Miho tells us that Sakura was thrown into a wall. Her head
must have hit the wall. There is damage to her skull and she had a number of
internal injuries. The doctors have not . . . they are not willing to make
predictions about Sakura's condition for at least another twenty-four hours,
unless she wakes up before then."

Kara held Miss Aritomo's hand,
but she threw her legs over the side of the bed and forced herself to stand.

"Wait, Kara. You cannot —"
the teacher said, holding her arm.

"Yuuka," Kara said,
more sharply than she'd intended. "I need to see her. I want to see my
father, talk to him. And then . . . Sakura."

Just the thought that her friend
might never wake up sapped the strength from her, but Kara refused to sit back
down.

"I'll take you," Miho
said.

"We should summon a nurse,"
Miss Aritomo warned.

"I'm fine," Kara told
her.

She pulled on the hospital robe
and followed Miho out into the hall. Her feet were bare and the tiles were very
cold underfoot. The loose hospital clothes flapped around her, but she ignored
it all. Miss Aritomo followed, only pausing to explain their destination as
they passed the nurses' station. A grumbling nurse pursued them but seemed more
interested in keeping an eye on Kara than on forcing her back to bed.

"It is this way," Miss
Aritomo said, guiding them along a corridor that branched off to the left.

When they reached Kara's father's
room, Miss Aritomo stood back to let her pass, and Kara preceded her through
the door with Miho following close behind. There were two beds in the room, one
of them empty and awaiting Kara's arrival, except that the old monk, Kubo, sat
perched on the edge of the bed with the air of a little boy waiting patiently
until he could depart.

Kara glanced in surprise at the
monk and then turned to her father, barely noticing the presence of the third
man in the room, Mr. Yamato, who stood near the window, looking out at the gray
skies — perhaps watching for any sign of snow.

"Honey, what are you doing
walking around?" her father asked, frowning. He glanced at Miss Aritomo.

"Don't blame Yuuka,"
Kara said quickly. "She tried to get me to rest. But you know me better
than that, Dad. I'm all right. And time is running out. It's . . . it may
already have run out."

Her voice cracked and she
clenched her jaws together a moment, refusing to cry.

"Last night was Hachiro's
third night on Takigami Mountain. And she's got Ren again. Sakura is pretty bad
off, I'm told. We've got to put a stop to this."

Kubo perked up, eyebrows arching
as though he had something to say, but he glanced at Mr. Yamato and then at
Kara's father, awaiting some signal of approval that did not seem to be
forthcoming. The old monk cocked his head to one side and continued his patient
vigil.

"Kara . . ." her
father began again.

She stared at him a moment,
taking in the bandaged left hand, knowing when the bandages were removed he
would have one less finger. She couldn't see his feet, and perhaps that was for
the best.

He tried to sit up, and she went
to him.

"No, Dad. Your ribs,"
she said, touching him gently on the shoulder, keeping him down.

"With respect, Harper-san,"
Mr. Yamato said, "Kara is right. It might be better if she rested, but you
are under strict instructions. Your ribs will not heal properly if you do not
obey them."

Kara saw the frustration in her
father's eyes and she understood it. He was furious at being so powerless. But
she also saw his eyelids droop with exhaustion and wondered how tired the
painkillers might be making him.

"Are you all right?"
she asked, unable to erase the little girl she'd once been from her voice.

"I will be," her
father replied, gaze fixed upon her eyes. "As long as you are."

"I'm not," Kara said
quickly, turning to Mr. Yamato and Kubo. She gestured to Miho. "None of us
are until this curse is over. It's killed so many people already. How many died
last night?"

"Kara —" Miss
Aritomo chided her.

"Four," Mr. Yamato
replied grimly. "Seventeen were injured, some of them badly. Your friend
Wakana fell on the stairs. She broke her arm and suffered a concussion."

"I did not know that,"
Miho said.

Miss Aritomo gave her a
sympathetic look. "You've been with Kara and Sakura all night."

Kara took a deep breath, glanced
around the room, and then looked at the old monk. "Ren was supposed to
lead us to Yuki-Onna. Now she has him again. Is there any other way to find
them? To find her?"

Kubo steepled his hands in front
of him, almost as if he were praying. "If we go to Takigami Mountain, I
may be able to find her. Such power as hers leaves echoes in its wake."

"But what will we do then,
Unsui?" Mr. Yamato asked. "Yuki-Onna will never let us take the boys."

"If I can find her, and
them, someone will have to lure her away to another part of the mountain. I
will have wards for both boys. It will be difficult for her reclaim them if she
cannot see them."

"How do we lure her away?"
Miho asked.

Miss Aritomo shook her head.
"Not you, girls."
"Who better?" Kara asked, reaching
up to finger the smooth stone that hung from the thong around her neck. "She
can't see us. So, how do we lure her?"
Kubo nodded thoughtfully. As
youthful as he often seemed, in that moment his eyes seemed very ancient
indeed.

"There is a summoning
spell. Though if she realizes that you are one of the cursed ones she seeks,
you would be in terrible danger."

"I'll do it," Kara
said instantly.

"Kara, no!" her father
said, trying to sit up. He hissed in pain and Miss Aritomo helped lower him
back to the mattress. Kara thought that his ribs must be pretty badly busted
up, and whatever the doctors were giving him, it wasn't enough.

"Dad, what choice do we
have?" Kara asked. "It's me or Miho. Unless Master Kubo has enough of
these perfect stones to protect a bunch of police officers, too."

In his eyes she saw that he
understood the logic, and that he hated it.

"The search on the mountain
has been suspended for the day," Mr. Yamato said. "Captain Nobunaga
has most of his officers at the school, or talking to the parents of the
students who were injured or . . . or killed."

They all hesitated at those
words, but only for a moment.

"I'll keep her safe, Rob,"
Miss Aritomo said, clutching his uninjured hand.

Miho cleared her throat. "With
apologies, I believe we have forgotten an important element. I understand that
we want to rescue Hachiro and Ren no matter what might happen after that, but
if Kubo is to lift Kyuketsuki's curse, we will still need to persuade Ume to
come back to Miyazu City."

Kara let out a breath, weariness
catching up to her. She had forgotten about Ume for a time.

Mr. Yamato turned to gaze out
the window. "Not to worry. Ume should be here shortly. She decided that
she would rather come by choice than in police custody."

Mai sat on the tatami mat floor
in her dorm room, leaning against her bed, and stared at Wakana's desk. The
girl kept everything perfectly neat. Even the pen on the desk had been laid
down in a vertical line parallel to the edge of the desk.

Why did you try to help?
she thought.

Moments after Mr. Harper had
left the room in search of Kara, Wakana had insisted on following him. They had
all worked together to save each other from the Hannya, and she said she would
never forgive herself if she stayed safe in her room when something was out there
hunting their friends.

Part of Mai wanted to argue that
they were not friends with those girls, but she knew what Wakana meant. They
shared a bond with Kara and the others; it might not be friendship in the
day-to-day definition, but it meant something. Wakana had opened the door. Even
with Miss Aritomo arguing with her that the best thing they could do for
everyone was to stay safe, Wakana had insisted, and so Mai and Miss Aritomo had
gone along with her.

The storm had buffeted them on
the stairs as they descended, and then Wakana had lost her footing. Now, alone
in the room that they shared, Mai stared at her hand. She had reached out to
grab Wakana, but her fingertips had just grazed the girl's sleeve. Even over
the roar of the wind, she had heard the crack of bone as Wakana's arm broke. Then
Wakana had reached the landing between floors and hit her head.

Moments later, the storm had
simply ended, wind dying, temperature in the building rising despite the
shattered windows. But Wakana had not moved.

Mai had feared the worst. Fortunately,
Wakana would be all right, but the same could not be said of Sora, or of the
four students who had died last night. In her walk to the bathroom to shower,
Mai had heard weeping coming from behind many doors. She would have gone over
to the hospital already this morning to be with Wakana, except that she was
waiting.

She dug her cell phone out of
her pocket and checked the time. Her anger, which had been simmering all
morning, began to rise. Waiting didn't suit her, but there was nothing she
could do about it.

Twenty minutes later, just as
her patience was about to reach its end, a knock came upon the door. Mai jumped
up and ran to open it, swung the door inward, and there she was, standing in
the corridor, awaiting an invitation like some movie vampire.

"Ume," Mai said,
unsmiling.

The girl had lost none of her
poise. She was tall and slender, her long hair perfect, her face like that of a
porcelain doll. With a toss of her hair, she lifted her chin with her typical
superior air, and smiled as falsely as ever.

"Did you miss me?" Ume
asked.

Mai laughed. The reaction
stemmed from disbelief rather than amusement, but Ume was too shallow and
self-serving to notice, for she stepped into the room and gave Mai a
perfunctory hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"You managed to persuade
your parents to let you take the car, I see," Mai said as she closed the
door.

"It was not easy," Ume
replied, glancing around the room. "But Mr. Yamato did not leave me much
choice."

The girl — once queen of
the soccer bitches and as imperious as ever — sat down on Wakana's bed
and looked up expectantly.

"All right," Ume said,
"here's what you're going to say."

"No," Mai said curtly.

Ume laughed, though she seemed a
bit unsure now. "I have not even told you, yet."

"You don't tell me
anything. You don't go to this school anymore. I will not follow your lead and
it shames me to know that I ever did. You were always cruel and small and
petty, but you are a murderer, as well. I have nothing but contempt for you."

Ume flinched. Her nostrils
flared and her eyes narrowed in fury.

"I didn't kill anyone,"
she lied, rising from the bed. "And for someone who needs my help, you
have a strange way of showing it."

Ume started toward the door but
Mai blocked her way. Ume reached out as though to push her, and Mai slapped her
across the face. The sound echoed in the small room. Ume blinked in shock.

"My roommate . . . my
friend, Wakana, is in the hospital. Sakura may not survive her injuries. Hachiro
and Ren are missing. Sora is dead. Daisuke . . . do you remember him? Probably
not, because he was quiet and not handsome and he was kind. Daisuke is dead,
because of you. All of them, because of what you started. Jiro, who you claim
to have loved, is dead because of you."

Ume's face reddened, and not
only where Mai had slapped her. Her gaze shifted around as though she sought
some escape. Her lip quivered and she shook her head in adamant refusal of the
truth.

"That is ridiculous."

So Mai laid it all for her,
everything that had happened, and what Kubo thought might be able to be done to
break the curse.

"You may not have been
cursed by Kyuketsuki," Mai said, "but you share the blame for all of
this death. It's as if you planted some seed and evil grew from it. You
murdered Akane Murakami, and you need to atone for that. You should confess,
Ume. For the sake of your own soul.

"Everyone knows you're
guilty. I would wager that even your parents know, deep inside, that you killed
Akane. You set it all in motion, and now it is time for you to do something —
a very small thing — to help stop it."