the fire, he grasped the severed end and began to unwind it. The thing came away from his flesh, squirming, leaving a trail of slime and blood, but as it began to separate, part of it held onto him like a small sucking mouth. With a further cry of disgust, he ripped it free and held it away as it flopped and writhed. Small suppurating mouths lined its length, surrounded by multitudes of tiny teeth, stained red with his blood. Cold chills turned his shoulders into soft paste, and he cast the thing into the fire. Aghast at the terrible spiral wound, he knelt and gripped his leg. The searing pain persisted even now that the thing was gone. Wisps of smoke still rose from the hot slime. His burned skin had peeled away with the tentacle. Rivulets of blood trickled from the holes where the tiny mouths had been torn away from his flesh.
Then, almost without him noticing, the last of his strength drained away from his limbs, and the world fell black.
* * *
When Taro awoke, the pain had diminished, but his mind was still cloudy. He knew he should clean the ugly wound immediately, so he uncorked his water bottle and tried to wash it as best he could. He could hardly stand to touch it, but he tried to wipe the slime and blood away until the water was gone. When he attempted to stand, he found that he could put some weight on that leg. It was painful, but he would manage.
His mind began to clear, and he surveyed the scene. It was just as Dangai had described. Some blood-soaked bandages lay discarded in the grass by the roadside. Two sets of footprints and two parallel tracks left by the dragging poles. A bit of good fortune? He could follow them anywhere with a trail like that.
He started after them at a fast limp.
Six
“Whether [one’s] mind is correct or not is indiscernible by other people. When any single thought arises, both good and evil are there.”
— Takuan Soho
Ken’ishi placed the makeshift stretcher beside Hatsumi and eased her onto it. Then he tied a loop of twine under her arms to prevent her from sliding off and fastened the rest of his gear across the poles. The poles and bedroll creaked as he tested the weight of the straps on his shoulders.
Suddenly Hatsumi’s mouth fell open, and a horrible shriek erupted. The sound was a barely human scream of rage, terror, and anguish. Ken’ishi gasped, quickly lowered the straps, and scrambled away from her. The scream lasted for several heartbeats, then trailed off to a feeble rattle, and Hatsumi’s head slumped to the side.
Kazuko came running up to him. “What is it?” she gasped. “Is she dead?”
“I don’t know. She just. . . .”
“Is she dead?” Kazuko’s voice rose. “All the gods and Buddhas, save her life!”
He moved closer on all fours, until he could put his ear close her nose and mouth. “She is still breathing.”
Kazuko nearly melted with relief. “Why did she do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“That was . . . horrible.” Her face was ashen, and her eyes were huge and glistening.
He nodded. “It sounded like . . . a ghost. Like something not from this world.”
“We must help her. What can we do?”
“Find a priest. Someone who can heal her body and mend her spirit. She is in a terrible way. Worse than I thought.”
“Then let’s move quickly.”
He stood up and pointed down the road. “Your home is this way?”
“Yes.”
“You can sling the swords along the sides here so you don’t have to carry them.”
“Thank you,” she said. “They won’t make it too heavy?”
Ken’ishi sniffed. “Not at all.” But he wondered what he would think around sunset, after he had dragged the stretcher all day long.
She placed the swords on either side of Hatsumi’s unconscious body, and he set off down the road at such a swift gait that she had to struggle to keep up.
The feeling of unease from Hatsumi’s scream left a pall of silence between them for a long time, and neither of
Then, almost without him noticing, the last of his strength drained away from his limbs, and the world fell black.
* * *
When Taro awoke, the pain had diminished, but his mind was still cloudy. He knew he should clean the ugly wound immediately, so he uncorked his water bottle and tried to wash it as best he could. He could hardly stand to touch it, but he tried to wipe the slime and blood away until the water was gone. When he attempted to stand, he found that he could put some weight on that leg. It was painful, but he would manage.
His mind began to clear, and he surveyed the scene. It was just as Dangai had described. Some blood-soaked bandages lay discarded in the grass by the roadside. Two sets of footprints and two parallel tracks left by the dragging poles. A bit of good fortune? He could follow them anywhere with a trail like that.
He started after them at a fast limp.
Six
“Whether [one’s] mind is correct or not is indiscernible by other people. When any single thought arises, both good and evil are there.”
— Takuan Soho
Ken’ishi placed the makeshift stretcher beside Hatsumi and eased her onto it. Then he tied a loop of twine under her arms to prevent her from sliding off and fastened the rest of his gear across the poles. The poles and bedroll creaked as he tested the weight of the straps on his shoulders.
Suddenly Hatsumi’s mouth fell open, and a horrible shriek erupted. The sound was a barely human scream of rage, terror, and anguish. Ken’ishi gasped, quickly lowered the straps, and scrambled away from her. The scream lasted for several heartbeats, then trailed off to a feeble rattle, and Hatsumi’s head slumped to the side.
Kazuko came running up to him. “What is it?” she gasped. “Is she dead?”
“I don’t know. She just. . . .”
“Is she dead?” Kazuko’s voice rose. “All the gods and Buddhas, save her life!”
He moved closer on all fours, until he could put his ear close her nose and mouth. “She is still breathing.”
Kazuko nearly melted with relief. “Why did she do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“That was . . . horrible.” Her face was ashen, and her eyes were huge and glistening.
He nodded. “It sounded like . . . a ghost. Like something not from this world.”
“We must help her. What can we do?”
“Find a priest. Someone who can heal her body and mend her spirit. She is in a terrible way. Worse than I thought.”
“Then let’s move quickly.”
He stood up and pointed down the road. “Your home is this way?”
“Yes.”
“You can sling the swords along the sides here so you don’t have to carry them.”
“Thank you,” she said. “They won’t make it too heavy?”
Ken’ishi sniffed. “Not at all.” But he wondered what he would think around sunset, after he had dragged the stretcher all day long.
She placed the swords on either side of Hatsumi’s unconscious body, and he set off down the road at such a swift gait that she had to struggle to keep up.
The feeling of unease from Hatsumi’s scream left a pall of silence between them for a long time, and neither of
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