“Wakana?” Mai cried, throwing herself against the door again. But that was getting her nowhere.
Carefully, she hurried back down the steps, hands searching for a light switch. When she found it, a dusty old fixture flickered to life up on the landing. Heart pounding, aware every second of the possibility of Miss Aritomo’s return, she hurtled up the stairs and stared at the door.
Two locks. One was simple enough, a deadbolt, which she threw back instantly. But the other required a key.
Mai sagged backward, racking her brain. The heavy lock would not be easily forced.
“Think, think,” she told herself. Frustrated, she slapped the wall.
Something jangled right next to her. She turned to see a hook, upon which there hung a key. Mai grinned at the luck. The old metal key might have hung there for years, even decades, with Miss Aritomo having little need of it.
Now she snatched it up, pushed it into the lock, twisted it and heard the tumbles fall. With a surge of hope, she shoved the door wide. The light from the old fixture on the landing spilled into the pitch-black attic.
Something moved in there. Mai blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust, and recoiled at the horrid odors that wafted from the attic.
“Who is it?” said a weak, rasping voice.
“Wakana?” Mai said, crouching slightly to step into the dusty, low-ceilinged room.
Then she looked deeper into the attic, trying to make out the strange shape that had been revealed by the shaft of light from the open door. A dollhouse. And behind it, broken pieces of something that must once have been her friend.
Mai had to scream, needed desperately to release the shriek of horror that seemed to catch in her throat. She staggered backward and struck her head on the door frame. The impact jarred something loose within her, and then she did scream, loud and long.
Kara ran along the street, passing through illumination from a streetlight above. Her legs felt heavy, and the backs of her calves burned, reminding her that she hadn’t been getting enough exercise lately. She slowed to a walk, catching her breath, and glanced over her shoulder to see Hachiro and Ren hurrying after her. Ren had a small box clutched to his chest, while Hachiro carried a sack made of rough cloth over his shoulder.
They had run most of the way to the school from Mr. Yamato’s, but it had taken much too long to pry the lock on the side door and then locate the items they were searching for. The route from the school to Miss Aritomo’s house had started as a kind of mad dash, but all three of them had needed to slow down several times. Passing her own house, Kara had seen lights on inside. Her father’s little Honda remained parked in front, and Miss Aritomo’s bicycle was still locked to a lamppost nearby. Kara had been torn between relief that the Hannya had not gone home yet, and fear for her father, that he was still with her.
But if the Hannya was keeping Miho and the others in Miss Aritomo’s house-and Kara and her friends hadn’t been able to think of any other possible places-then this might be their one chance to find out. And if Miho and the others weren’t in the art teacher’s house, Kara feared they must be dead after all.
So she had kept running, and the guys had raced along behind her, each carrying his burden. Now they were almost there. Hachiro and Ren caught up to her, then they both slowed to a walk as well, out of breath. The street came to an intersection, where the main road jogged left and a narrow avenue ran off to the right, newish homes clustered all along it. They kept to the main road, bearing left beneath the gleaming dome of another streetlight.
Kara jumped a little at the sudden vibration in her pocket. With a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, she pulled out her cell phone, which she’d silenced when they had been breaking into the school. Sakura was calling.
“Hey,” Kara answered.
“Where are you?” Sakura demanded, her voice low.
“Almost there.”
“You’d better hurry. We heard something, maybe someone calling for help. Mai panicked. She went around the back and I think she’s breaking in.”
“Shit,” Kara muttered. “Be there in a minute.”
She hung up and as she slid the phone back into her pocket, she glanced up at Hachiro. “We’ve got to hurry.”
“What do you think we’ve been doing?” Ren asked, still trying to steady his breathing.
Hachiro took Kara’s hand and squeezed it. He gave her a quick kiss. “Let’s go.”
Ren held up a hand. “Wait, wait, please! Just give me a minute.”
Kara smiled and grabbed his hand, now locked between the two guys. “Sorry.”
Then they were off and running, the two of them dragging Ren along despite his wheezing protests. In moments they came in sight of Miss Aritomo’s house. Veering to the right, they hid as deeply in the shadows of the buildings as they could manage.
“Sakura!” Kara called in a rough whisper.
“Why are you being quiet?” Hachiro asked, frowning. “Aritomo-sensei is not home.”
Ren hit his arm. “Think. Just because Aritomo-sensei isn’t here, that doesn’t mean the Hannya is also gone.”
Kara shivered, remembering all too clearly the sight of the evil spirit transforming and then vanishing inside Miss Aritomo’s prone body.
When she called out a second time, Sakura emerged from beside the building on their right, a darkened laundry, and beckoned them to her. Kara, Ren, and Hachiro hurried over, and Kara felt vulnerable and exposed under the glow of yet another streetlamp. She exhaled as they stepped into a darkened alley beside the laundry, where Sakura had apparently been hiding.
“Did you get everything?” Sakura asked.
“We think so,” Ren told her, patting the box in his hands. “It’s just so strange to think that any of this will make a difference. We should have guns or knives or something.”
Hachiro nodded. “A baseball bat.”
Kara looked at him.
“What? It worked before.”
“The baseball bat helped, but it wasn’t what got rid of the ketsuki, or kept Kyuketsuki from coming into the world. The rules of things like this are very peculiar, and sometimes don’t make any sense, but the secrets are all in the stories themselves. If the monks destroyed the Hannya with the sound of bells, and Aritomo-sensei purposely left them out of the play… Look, maybe this will work and maybe it won’t, but if it doesn’t, I don’t have another plan, and a baseball bat isn’t going to help.”
Ren cocked his head, looking across the street at the darkened house. “It might.”
The sound of an approaching car made them step deeper into the alley and they fell silent as they turned to watch it pass. But the car did not drive past. The engine rumbled and the vehicle slowed, and a moment later the headlights turned left, casting an ugly yellow light onto Miss Aritomo’s house as the car pulled into the drive. A moment later, the headlights went dark and the engine silent, but not before Kara saw the open trunk, and the bicycle jutting out of it.
“Oh, no,” Ren said.
“Kara, it’s your father,” Hachiro whispered.
She barely heard them. Staring, wondering how the teacher had persuaded him to drive her home, and if it had been Miss Aritomo or the Hannya doing the talking-how did that work, having a demon riding inside your mind?-Kara started out of the alley.
Sakura grabbed her shoulder. “Wait.”
Kara shook her off and took one more step before Ren lent a hand, he and Sakura preventing Kara from going any farther. Hachiro stepped in front of her, blocking Kara’s view of the house. Her pulse raced, gaze darting around. Her skin prickled with frenzied thoughts and fears, and she looked up into Hachiro’s eyes.
Car doors slammed. Her father would be taking Miss Aritomo’s bike out of the trunk now.
“Why would she bring him back here?” Kara demanded. “I thought… I don’t know if Aritomo-sensei knows the Hannya’s inside her, and my dad’s got nothing to do with the play, so I hoped he would be safe. But if she’s bringing him here, I have to stop him from going inside.”