“Not at all,” Anraku said. “My partial blindness enables me to see things invisible to other people. It is a window on the future, a passage to the many worlds within the cosmos.”
Keisho-in looked impressed. “How did it happen?”
The luminosity of Anraku’s good eye darkened, as if he’d diverted light inward. “Many years ago, I was banished for wrongs that weak, jealous men falsely accused me of committing. I wandered the country alone, and wherever I went, I was reviled and persecuted. Hence, I fled the world.”
Reiko remembered Minister Fugatami describing how Anraku had been expelled from a monastery because he’d usurped the priests’ authority, then become an itinerant monk who’d lived by cheating peasants. Certainly he’d deserved punishment, but Reiko remained silent, curious to hear how he accounted for the missing years of his life.
“I climbed Mount Hiei,” Anraku said, referring to the sacred peak near the imperial capital. “I meant to seek guidance at Enryaku Temple.”
In ancient times Enryaku had been a sanctuary for criminals because police weren’t allowed there, Reiko knew; fugitives might still find it a good place to hide.
“Then a heavy mist descended upon the mountain. The world around me turned white and hazy. As I toiled upward, the path under my feet disappeared. I was cold, wet, exhausted, and knew not which way to go.” Anraku’s hushed words evoked the frightening experience of walking blind through the mist. Lady Keisho-in’s eyes were round with fascination. Even Reiko felt the power of his storytelling.
“Suddenly I emerged into clear air in a woodland dell on the mountaintop. There were clouds filling the sky above me, and clouds hiding the land below. I looked around and saw a tiny cottage. An old man dressed in rags came out of the cottage and said, ‘I will shelter you for the night if you work for your keep.’
“So I chopped wood, built a fire in the cottage, then cooked fish I caught in a stream. Night came, and I lay on the floor to sleep. At sunrise, I awoke to see the old man standing near me. Suddenly he was no longer old but ageless, and serenely beautiful. A brilliant light radiated from him. He was an incarnation of the Buddha.”
“Astonishing,” murmured Lady Keisho-in.
A story told by many religious frauds, thought Reiko; but Anraku seemed to believe his own tale.
“Then the Buddha became an old man again,” Anraku said. “I begged him to make me his disciple, and he agreed. Every day for eight years, I labored at housework, but he taught me nothing. Finally I grew frustrated. I said to the old man, ‘I’ve served you well, and now I demand a reward.’ But he just laughed as if he’d played a joke on me. Then there was a loud boom of thunder. White light streamed down through a crack in the sky and transformed the old man into the Buddha. He lifted his hand and said, ‘Here is the knowledge you desire.’”
Anraku’s hand rose. “Out of the Buddha’s palm shot a bolt of lightning. It struck my eye. I fell, shouting in agony. As the pain burned deep into me, the Buddha said, ‘I designate you the Bodhisattva of Infinite Power. You will spread my teachings across the land and bring to mankind the blessing that I am giving you.’ Then he recited a text, and his voice etched the words into my memory. It was the Black Lotus Sutra. The secret path to enlightenment blazed before me like a river of stars.
“When the pain stopped, the Buddha was gone. The cottage and clouds had disappeared. I could see across the land below the mountain, but only with my left eye. The right eye was burned shut. It gazed upon infinite dimensions throughout space and time. I saw things happening in distant places before I was born, and events far in the future.” Emotion trembled in Anraku’s voice. “I had a vision of the temple I would build here. I rose and walked down the mountain toward my destiny.”
Though Reiko believed that the Buddha had many incarnations and some humans had supernatural powers, no one knew what had happened to Anraku during those eight years; he could invent any explanation he liked. He could also invent visions.
“What is the secret of the Black Lotus Sutra?” Lady Keisho-in asked eagerly.
Anraku gave her an apologetic smile. “Alas, it cannot be explained, only experienced by devotees of the sect.”
“Well, then, I’ll join,” Keisho-in said with characteristic impulsiveness.
Dismay chilled Reiko. “Perhaps it would be best to give the matter some serious thought first,” she said.
“Thought is but an illusion that obscures destiny,” Anraku said, and his smile gently rebuked her. “If it is Her Highness’s fate to become one of us, then she shall.” To Keisho-in he said, “Let me examine your life for the truth.”
Keisho-in leaned forward. Anraku gazed upon her intently, and Reiko had an eerie sense of his concentration radiating through the black eye patch like an invisible weapon toward Keisho-in. Reiko tasted dread. If Anraku harmed Keisho-in, it would be her fault.
“You are a woman of humble origin whose beauty captivated a great lord,” Anraku said. “Your son rules with the aid of your wise counsel. You are devout and charitable, respected and loved. Inside you is a rare, extraordinary potential.”
“Ah!” Lady Keisho-in gasped. “That’s me exactly!”
He’d said nothing that he couldn’t have learned from public knowledge of her, and it wasn’t hard to guess that Keisho-in considered herself special, Reiko observed.
Now Anraku turned the eerie, tactile gaze of his blind eye on Reiko. He said gravely, “There is a painful division in you. One side cleaves to a man; the other, to a girl of no kin to you. You are torn between love and honor. To choose one side is to sacrifice the other. You live in terror of choosing wrongly. You fear you’ve already compromised yourself beyond reparation.”
Reiko stared in wordless shock. His subordinates would have told him that she was trying to help Haru, but how did he guess how she felt? The cool, rustling pine forest seemed suddenly astir with malignant forces and the pavilion a cage imprisoning Reiko. Did Anraku really have supernatural vision, or spies watching her? Both possibilities were alarming.
“Your spirit is in serious peril unless you reconcile your dualities,” Anraku said. “The Black Lotus Sutra shows the way to spiritual unity. Honorable Lady Reiko, both you and Her Highness must join me.”
“Oh, yes, let’s!” Keisho-in said.
“I didn’t come here to discuss myself,” Reiko said, hiding her fright behind brusqueness. That Anraku could judge people so well made him dangerous, no matter how he did it. “I want to talk about the fire and murders. What do you know of them?”
Anraku’s tranquil demeanor didn’t alter. “I know that things were not as they seem,” he said.
“What does your vision show you?”
Obviously recognizing her question as bait, Anraku smiled.
“Where were you the night of the fire?” Reiko said.
“At a shrine festival in Osaka.” That city was many days’ journey from Edo. Before Reiko could ask if anyone could confirm his presence there, Anraku added, “I was also in China.”
Puzzled, Reiko said, “But the law forbids anyone to leave Japan, and even if you could, it’s impossible to be in two places at once.”
Anraku’s expression disdained her logic. “I am bound by neither man’s laws nor nature’s. With the powers given me by the Buddha, my spirit can travel to many places simultaneously.”
“Marvelous!” Lady Keisho-in said. “You must teach me how to do that.”
“Where was your body while your spirit traveled?” Reiko said.
“It lay in my chamber, guarded by my disciples.”
At least this was an alibi Reiko could check, but she grew more uncertain about Anraku and fearful of him. Whether or not his magic powers were genuine, he had real influence over people. According to Hirata and Minister Fugatami, citizens had accused him of extortion, fraud, kidnapping, and violence. Was Anraku a sincere mystic who was unaware of what his followers did, or a madman responsible for the sect’s crimes?