The Girl from the Well

“Exorcism?” Callie asks, shaken by the fact that the miko knows she is there, though the latter does not seem angry.

“It is what we do at the Chinsei shrine. It is a very old technique passed down for generations since Emperor Temmu’s time. We exorcise wandering onryuu by trapping them inside the bodies of dolls such as these.”

Callie gasps. “But…that was how Aunt Yoko…”

“We are saddened but not surprised. Yoko herself sent us a letter telling us what she planned to do, of the ritual she performed on the night of her death. It was a rash decision and very dangerous. She had none of the usual precautions in place. But I suppose she felt she had little choice left.” Gently, the miko sets the doll back on top of the shrine. “But it is not your Okiku who was responsible for her death, though she is a terrible ghost in her own right. I do not know what binds her to this plane, but perhaps it would be impolite not to ask.”

Then the miko addresses me directly. “Have you come here to harm us, onryuu?” She asks, her brown eyes intent on my face. Callie turns toward her in surprise but still does not see me.

I watch the miko. There is great strength in her. Though she is still very young, in time she could be much more.

“Have you?” she persists.

I shake my head, amused by her boldness.

“It is unusual for those like you to involve themselves in human affairs. So why do you come here? Is it because of the boy?”

I lift my head then and meet her searching gaze with a determined stare. I do not respond, but she understands. A grudging smile appears on her lips.

“I see. He is rather special, isn’t he?” She turns away. “An onryuu with a conscience, kami help us. I agree with your uncle, Callie-san. It shall be a long day tomorrow. You must rest.”

She glides inside. After one last look behind her, Callie hesitantly follows suit, leaving the doll atop its little Jizo shrine, moonlight shining on its strange, porcelain skin.

I wait until they are gone before picking it up and turning it over carefully in my hands. Its eyes stare back at me with a strange combination of hatred and helplessness.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


    Fear Mountain


There are only fourteen tourists on the bus as it navigates the slopes leading up the mountain, though the view is one most consider breathtaking. Halfway through the trip, the bus stops by a nearby mountain spring, the driver encouraging the visitors to sample the fresh water. Tarquin has regained most of his health. His eyes are no longer bright from the feverishness that accompanies most sicknesses. He has resumed his habit of regaling his fellow travelers with outbursts of sarcasm. His father is pleased. “We should have done this sooner,” he admits to Callie. “Maybe all he really did need was some good, fresh air.”

But the miko does not share the same opinion. “Osorezan is a holy place,” she tells Callie quietly once the man is out of earshot, aware of the father’s ignorance of the disease that truly plagues Tarquin. “It is one of the three most spiritual places of Japan. Osorezan serves as a shintai—a place where powerful spirits called kami are believed to reside. It is enough to suppress most spirits’ malice, if only temporarily.”