Haru began to tremble and moan; terror glazed her eyes as she clutched at herself, feeling for the alien growth.
With amazement, Reiko saw that Haru believed so strongly in Anraku’s powers that the spell could physically hurt her. Reiko hurried the dazed Midori to a corner and sat her down. “Stay here,” she said, then rushed toward the platform.
Anraku’s hypnotic voice continued, “The leaves unfurl, their knifelike edges tearing and penetrating, spilling blood. The stalk pierces your heart. A huge bud forms.”
Haru grabbed her chest, wheezing loudly. “It hurts. I can’t breathe!” she cried in panic.
“The bud grows larger and larger,” Anraku said. His eye glowed brighter; his smile reflected enjoyment of her suffering.
“It’s killing me.” Spasms jarred Haru, and her complexion turned livid. She dropped to her knees. “Please, take it out!”
“Stop,” Reiko shouted at Anraku. Raising her sword, she ordered, “Leave Haru alone.”
The high priest ignored Reiko. “Feel the lotus bud begin to flower,” he told Haru. “The petals are pure black and razor-sharp. As they spring open, they lacerate your heart.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Reiko saw Sano’s blade cut deeply into Kumashiro’s thigh. The priest stumbled and sank to his knees. With his face set in a scowl of desperation and the cut spurting blood, he lashed his blade at the samurai surrounding him, until Hirata wounded his arm. His sword went flying. Sano and Hirata wrestled him down.
Frantically gasping for air, Haru sobbed. “I’ll die!”
“That is the fate of enemies of the Black Lotus,” Anraku said, gloating. He extended his fists, knuckles facing Haru. “When the flower reaches full bloom, your life shall cease.”
Reiko grabbed Haru’s shoulder, urging,”Look away. Don’t listen. He’s a fraud. He can’t hurt you unless you let him.”
But Haru’s gaze seemed magnetically locked onto Anraku’s. Keening in agony, the girl clawed open her robe, trying to tear the flower out of her chest. Her fingernails left bloody scratches on her skin. Reiko leapt up on the platform.
“Stop, or I’ll kill you!” she told Anraku.
“Your time has come,” he said with a triumphant smile at Haru.
His fingers shot open. Haru screamed, as if pierced by invisible blades. Her back arched and her limbs splayed. Incensed, Reiko slashed Anraku down his chest. He lurched, then crumpled onto his side. His face was luminous with rapture, his eye focused on some faraway vista.
“Enlightenment at last,” he whispered.
A spasm contorted his features and body. His radiance dimmed, and death veiled his eye. Anraku had met the destiny he’d prophesied.
Reiko dropped the sword and leapt off the platform. “Haru-san.” Kneeling, she touched the girl’s cheek. “What’s happened to you?”
No answer came. Haru’s open eyes were sightless; blood trickled from her mouth. Gravity relaxed her features, and her terrified expression faded as Reiko watched. She was dead.
A terrible grief seized Reiko as she cradled Haru’s head in her lap. The girl had remained in the thrall of the Black Lotus and ultimately succumbed to Anraku. They had indeed shared a destiny; they would be together always, as she’d wished. But Haru had chosen friendship for Reiko over her devotion to the high priest. By saving Reiko’s life at the expense of her own, she’d atoned for her evils. And Reiko hadn’t even had a chance to thank Haru. Now it was too late.
It was too late for all the disturbed souls who’d fallen under the influence of the Black Lotus and died tonight.
Suddenly overwhelmed by the horrors of the day, Reiko sobbed. Nearby, she saw Hirata embracing Midori, but there was no consolation for herself.
Then Reiko felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Sano standing beside her. His eyes were filled with a compassion for her that she’d thought gone forever. He drew her to her feet and held her close. As she wept against the hard plates of his armor, he led her out of the room.
37
In the age that will follow the passing of the Bodhisattva of Infinite Power,
His disciples will turn the wheel of his truth,
Beat the drum of his truth,
And sound the conch trumpet of his truth,
Until he manifests himself to the world again.
– FROM THE BLACK LOTUS SUTRA
Priest Kumashiro, I pronounce you guilty of multiple assaults and murders,” said Magistrate Ueda.
It was the end of the fourth day of the Black Lotus trials. The magistrate sat with Sano, Hirata, and the secretaries on the dais in the Court of Justice. On the shirasu knelt Kumashiro and Junketsu-in, their wrists and ankles shackled. The priest glowered; the abbess hung her head and sniveled. A large audience of officials filled the room behind them.
“Abbess Junketsu-in,” the magistrate said, “I pronounce you guilty of arson.” His stern gaze rebuked the defendants. Both had confessed after Sano had interrogated them and witnesses from among the captured sect members had testified against them. Kumashiro had admitted murdering Chie, Radiant Spirit, and Pious Truth and his sister Yasue, among many others. “I pronounce you both guilty of harmful religious practices and conspiracy to destroy Edo and massacre the citizens. You are hereby sentenced to death by decapitation.”
Guards dragged the pair out of the building. Junketsu-in wept; Kumashiro scowled. The crowd that had occupied the street outside Magistrate Ueda’s estate since the trials had begun greeted them with angry jeers, curses, and waving fists. The weather had turned cold and stormy, but the victims of Black Lotus attacks and the families of abducted, enslaved, and murdered followers had stayed to see justice done.
In the court, the audience and secretaries had departed. Sano, Hirata, and Magistrate Ueda lingered inside the doorway.
“This is a sorry business,” the magistrate said. “I hope that a disaster of such magnitude never happens again.”
The death toll from the battle at the temple numbered six hundred forty Black Lotus members and fifty-eight of Sano’s troops. A later search of the tunnels had turned up the ashes and bones of countless cremated bodies. And two hundred ninety captured sect members had been executed.
“Still, it could have been worse,” Sano said. “My men captured most of the fugitives near Zōjō Temple, and the police have caught more on the outskirts of Edo. Hopefully, that’s all there are.”
He heard the hollow note in his own voice. The experience had left him drained and shaken. Memories of the carnage robbed him of appetite and sleep. He didn’t know the identities of the people he’d slain, and it bothered him that he could take lives and not know whose, or how many. Yesterday he’d attended a mass funeral for his retainers killed in the battle; he mourned their deaths. He’d solved the murder case and eliminated a threat to the nation, but he had no sense of accomplishment, despite the shogun’s praise of his valor. And his difficulties with Reiko were still unresolved.
Busy from dawn until late at night every day, interrogating captured sect members, testifying at their trials, and supervising the dismantling of the Black Lotus Temple, he’d hardly seen his wife since he’d brought her home from the temple. Reiko had told him some of what had happened in Anraku’s hideout before his arrival there, but otherwise, they’d barely spoken.
“There have been a few minor fires, but no explosions or instances of poisoning,” Hirata said. He wore the same haunted look as did all Sano’s men who’d survived the raid. “And many innocent people have been saved.”
After the battle, Sano’s troops had escorted home to the city the two hundred thirty-four prisoners they’d liberated. A hundred fifty children found underground had been returned to their families or placed orphanages. The orphans of Minister Fugatami now resided with relatives.