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.”