Suddenly, smoke erupted from the altar’s center, billowing in a thick column to the ceiling. Surprised exclamations burst from Midori and the other novices. Up through the smoke rose a human figure. It was a tall man who wore a black patch over his left eye, and a sparkling, multicolored brocade robe.
“Bow down before Honorable High Priest Anraku,” ordered the nuns.
As she and her comrades dropped to their knees, pressed their foreheads to the floor, and extended their arms, Midori tried to still her body’s panicky trembling and be brave. She wished Hirata and Reiko were here with her.
The high priest spoke: “Welcome, my followers.” His quiet voice had a resonance that penetrated clearly through the chanting. “Raise your heads so I can look upon you.”
Midori cautiously sat upright. Anraku stepped forward to the red bars of the low railing that bordered the altar. The mirrors multiplied his image all around the room. His beauty dazzled Midori. His gaze scanned the novices, and when it briefly held Midori’s, she felt an instant, exhilarating connection to him.
“I congratulate you on the advent of your membership in the Black Lotus,” Anraku said. “You have come here from many different circumstances of life, from places near and far, but you all have one marvelous thing in common.”
He paused, and Midori shared the breathless suspense that immobilized the audience.
“You are unique among mortals,” Anraku continued, spreading his arms in an all-encompassing embrace. The smoky air vibrated with the chanting and the force of his personality. “You have extraordinary perception and strong, pure spirit. You are capable of miracles. You are destined for greatness.”
Pride swelled the chests of the hundred novices and brought smiles to their faces. Anraku’s words stirred Midori despite her role as an outsider and spy. The drifting incense smoke suffused her lungs; she felt giddy. Perhaps she really was special, and Anraku was the first to recognize the fact.
“You have all paid a price for being special.” As Anraku leaned toward the audience, he seemed to grow in stature; his voice reverberated. “The world is cruel to those who are different. You have suffered slights, mockery, and rejection. You have been ostracized, banished, and punished unjustly. Your lives have been filled with pain.”
Sobs punctuated the chanting. Midori saw grief contorting the faces of the young women. Their misery infected her. She recalled Hirata’s hurtful teasing and his neglect of her, Reiko’s condescension, the Edo Castle ladies-in-waiting who snubbed her, the family she rarely saw. Tears spilled from her eyes.
“Those who have hurt you have done so because they envy you,”
Anraku said. “They wish to destroy the superiority that you possess and they can never achieve.”
Revelation stunned Midori. Such a perfectly logical explanation for her troubles! All around her she saw comprehension dawning on tearful faces.
“But your suffering has a purpose. The divine forces have sent misfortunes to test your spirits. By surviving, you have passed the test. Now fate has chosen you to join an elite order of people like yourselves. You have come to your true home. Here you shall find the fulfillment you deserve.”
Anraku smiled, radiating a benevolence that healed past hurts. Now the novices wept for joy, and Midori with them. Perhaps fate really had brought her here, and this was indeed the one place where people would appreciate her.
“Look around you at your new clan,” Anraku said with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “Know that you belong here, together, among others of your kind.”
Warm, affectionate glances passed among the novices. Midori felt the bliss of a comradeship she’d never known before. She chanted, “Praise the glory of the Black Lotus!”
“You share an important purpose,” Anraku said. “You all seek spiritual awareness, divine knowledge, and the ultimate expression of the powers within. With me as your guide, you shall attain all those blessings. You are ready to begin the first step of your journey.”
Eager stirrings rippled the audience. Anraku said, “The Black Lotus Sutra describes the path to enlightenment as a tapestry woven from an infinite number of threads. Approach me one by one so that I may look into your spirit and discern which thread bears your name.”
Two nuns walked to the first row of novices. They led a young woman up to the altar. Midori experienced sudden alarm. She’d gotten so carried away by the ritual that she’d forgotten why she was here. Anraku leaned down, grasped the novice’s face between his hands, and stared intently into her eyes. The chanting accelerated. Midori saw Anraku’s lips move as he spoke to the novice and knew she couldn’t go up there. When her turn came, Anraku might guess she was a spy!
Anraku released the novice, who stumbled back to her place, weeping. Nuns led other novices to the altar. After the high priest spoke to them, some moaned, cried, or acquired wondering, dazed expressions; some fainted. What was he saying to them? Midori wondered. Soon the nuns came for her. Filled with dread, she rose, swaying dizzily as if she were drunk. The nuns supported her as she wove to the altar. Mirrored lights and smoke spun around Midori; the chanting echoed through her. Heart racing, she stood before Anraku.
He seemed tall as a mountain, his robe bright as fire against the huge black lotus flower. Then he leaned down, and his hard, warm hands clasped Midori’s cheeks. Midori dared not look straight at him, lest he realize her deception, yet his gaze captured hers. His single eye was a beacon that illuminated every corner of her soul. Perceiving unfathomable dimensions behind the black patch, Midori whimpered in terror.
Then Anraku smiled, and the sense of deep connection with him soothed Midori. He said in a soft, hypnotic voice, “Love is the force that compels you. Unrequited love saddens your heart. For love you would walk through fire, travel to the end of the earth, wait for an eternity. Love brought you to me.”
How could he know? Midori thought wildly. Had he found out who she was? She longed to run away, but his firm grasp paralyzed her.
“Love is your path to enlightenment,” Anraku said. “It is a path through much darkness and trouble, but I shall guide you safely to your destiny. Follow me, and you shall win your heart’s desire.”
Wisdom illuminated his face. His power flowed from his hands into Midori like a charge of energy. As she stared at him, his image transformed. Suddenly it was Hirata holding her, smiling down at her. Joy exhilarated Midori. The high priest really could grant her anything she wanted, even Hirata! Then the vision dissolved, and Anraku released her.
Midori experienced a sensation of falling away from him at great speed as lights swirled around her. Abruptly, she found herself kneeling in the row of novice nuns. Breathless from shock, she tried to figure out what had happened, but rational thought eluded her. She knew the high priest was drawing her into his realm of enchantment and she must resist, yet she desperately wanted what he offered.
Novices continued going to and from the altar. Moans, sobs, and emotion agitated the group. Midori wondered what he’d promised everyone else. That he could know them all and give them everything made no sense; yet it made perfect sense. Midori felt her will weakening, her spirit cleaving to Anraku.
When the ritual ended, Anraku surveyed the novices with proud satisfaction. They raised rapt faces to him, and Midori knew they felt toward him the same fear, trust, and attraction as she did. Anraku said,
“Now you each know the path that is yours to follow. Before you embark on your journey, you must take the vows that are required from all members of the Black Lotus sect.” He lifted his hands. “Rise, my children.”
Midori clambered to her feet. Still dizzy, she wobbled. The unsteady bodies of Toshiko and other young women bumped her.
“Repeat after me,” Anraku said: “I pledge to embrace the Black Lotus faith and shun all other faiths forever.”