“I wasn’t sure of it myself. Father’s account gave no details of it, just generalities.”
“They were weaving the girls into cocoons.” It fit with the earlier vision from Mineko Kunai’s ghost when, through her eyes, I saw that massive, horrifying tree and that wriggling cocoon hanging from its branches. “Your father said that the ritual only takes place every three years. So if something inside the cocoon was still moving, then at least one of the girls had been alive inside it for…” I pause, shocked by the very idea.
“…for three years, at the very least. Yes.” Kagura rolls up the rest of the bandages, and I gingerly pull my shirt down. “Mikage dealt with some very dark magic, Tarquin-san—the kind of magic that could sustain life, of a sort, though its victim would suffer very much from it. But it is not true life as you would know it, Tark. It’s an existence much like Okiku’s, where one can exist and yet still be dead at the same time.”
Great. Schr?dinger’s ghost.
“Did you read what my father wrote about the silkworm-raising techniques?”
“Not really. I didn’t know then what they had to do with Aitou.”
“More than even Father suspected, unfortunately. Once silkworms reach a certain age in their larva phase, they begin to spin silk cocoons. Eventually, when they become moths, they bore holes through these prison walls, and the silk is destroyed in the process. As a result, silkworm breeders boil the silkworms before they reach that stage.”
“I take it that’s not very good for the silkworms involved.”
“No, it isn’t.” Even now, Kagura is oblivious to sarcasm. “The cloth they used for the ritual—I’ve seen evidence of silkworm hatcheries in more than a few of the houses. Aitou was self-sufficient by all accounts. I think they took the best of these silks and wove them to make the ceremonial cloths used for the ritual, to bind the girls—”
“But for what?” I burst out. “It doesn’t seem sane. Why go through all that trouble? If they were going to sacrifice those girls, couldn’t they have at least gone about it in a more humane way?”
“Suffering is the most important aspect of many of these kinds of rituals, Tarquin-san. The more suffering involved, the more successful the ritual.” She smiles sadly. “I had hoped against all hope that you would never find your way here, Tarquin. Despite everything you’ve been through, your heart’s too kind to comprehend the evils man can do when he is afforded the opportunity. You must not think about these things. We should plan our next move.”
“And what would that be?”
“Exorcising Yukiko Uchiyama is still my priority. Failing that, we must gain access to the underground shrine to find those cocoons and purify them if necessary. And we must learn the fate of the last girl sacrificed.”
“That Oimikado girl, you mean? You don’t know what happened to her either?”
“Nothing I have read mentions her fate. Her diary is all I’ve had to go on.”
“She had blue eyes,” I say suddenly. Cold seeps through me, triggering a faint spasm of pain on my back. I hadn’t thought much about the girl’s eye color with the whirlwind of all that’s happened, so I’m only now making the connection. “The diary said something about people who looked down on her because of her eyes. And that her mother belonged to the Ainu tribe.”
“I remember that entry. The Ainu are frequently discriminated against for their mixed racial stock, for having Caucasian ancestry. Blue eyes would not be too unusual for them.”
“I’ve seen her inside the shrine! When I was trying to get in. She must be the ghost helping us, Kagura! And if she’s one of the ghosts here”—I swallow—“she must have been sacrificed too.”
I feel a little sick. It’s a long shot to hope that she got away safely, but it doesn’t stop my anger and my disappointment.
Kagura is more pragmatic. “If she was sacrificed, there is little we can do other than to help her find peace. How is Okiku?”
“Sleeping—or as close to sleeping as someone like her is able to. I think that thing with the Fujiwara girl sapped more of her strength than she’s willing to admit.”
“The longer she can hibernate, the better. She cannot linger long in this village.”
I know Kagura doesn’t mean to, but her words make me feel guilty all the same. Okiku made no complaint or protest when I decided to come here, though she must have known what kind of creatures lurk in Aitou—the ones she is weakest against.
“Kagura, what visions did you see when you caught those other two ghosts?”
The miko packs the rest of her first-aid kit back into her bag and hesitates at my question. When she replies, her tone is guarded.
“I don’t think they’ll be very important.”