Christopher Golden - A Winter of Ghosts

"No!" Kara said,barely hearing her own voice.

She bolted down the street, barefeet slapping the frigid pavement, stumbling a bit when she stepped on a rock. Herface felt flushed despite the deep chill settling into the rest of her body. Herbreath plumed from her lips, drifting away behind her as she ran, and her legsfelt like brittle sticks that might snap out from under her. Still she ran,lungs burning with cold, heart clenched along with her fists.

Cold heart , she thought. Gotto keep a cold heart .

She kept her lips pressedtogether in a tight line, refusing to let herself feel, but she could not stopher mind from rushing into dark places. Please don't be Hachiro . And atthe same time, her thoughts spiraled along other avenues. This was the secondghost she had seen, but who else had seen them? Wakana, Hachiro, and Miho. Allof them people who had previously been touched by the supernatural. Not justKyuketsuki's curse — the curse didn't affect Wakana — but peoplewho'd had their eyes opened to the things lurking behind the curtain of theworld. Had that given them some kind of sight, enabled them to see thingsothers could not? Or was it all coincidence? Or were there people who had seenghosts that she just didn't know about yet?

A block from the train station,Kara stumbled to a halt, feet painfully cold and raw. She looked around, panicsurging, but did not see the ghost. Up ahead, an old man with a white beardrode a bicycle toward her. Truly peculiar at going on three o'clock in the morning,but he was no ghost. Just strange.

No , she thought. And thenshe said it aloud.

"No. I can't not know,"she whispered into the winter night, each word a wisp of icy breath. And nowher trembling had nothing to do with the cold. She'd tried to make her heartturn to ice but her breath began to hitch and her lower lip quivered and shehated to cry, hated how weak and foolish it made her feel.

"Kara!"

She turned.

The old man's bicycle squeakedas it approached, but she had her back to him now, looking back the way she'dcome. Her father must have heard her, for he had come out after her. He woreslippers, a white t-shirt, and sweatpants, and a giddy, frazzled part of hermind realized that the two of them must seem just as peculiar to the old man onhis bicycle as he did to her, that anything might happen in the small hours ofthe night, and every street, and every night, was a quietly bizarre midnightcircus.

"Kara!" her fathercalled again, concern in his voice. Even fear. And why not, given all they hadbeen through.

But she could not focus on herfather.

The ghost stood between them. Somehowshe had passed right by it without noticing. Moonlight and shadow made it seembarely there and even as she watched it faded further, slipping into nothing,vanishing. But she had seen its face and it was not Hachiro.

Tears did come, then, but theywere tears of exhaustion and relief in equal measure.

And then her father was thereand he pulled her into his arms.

"Sweetie, what are youdoing?" he asked. "You scared me, running out like that. Are youokay?"

They both jumped, startled bythe sound of a bicycle bell as the old man rode by. The tension inside Karabroke like a wave on the sand and she laughed, heart still pounding. But thatrespite lasted only a moment, the presence of the ghost so fresh in her mind.

"Did you see him?" sheasked, staring into her father's eyes.

She expected a look ofconfusion. Instead, his concern turned to uneasiness.

"I think I did," hesaid. "Just for a second, when I was running after you, I thought youweren't alone, that there was someone in the street with you."

He's been touched by thesupernatural, too , she thought. The Hannya had nearly killed him.

"A ghost," she said.

"But it wasn't. .?"

"No," she saidquickly. "It wasn't Hachiro."

Her father took that in, thenlooked at her more closely. "God, you don't even have shoes on. You'regoing to get frostbite. Come on, let me carry you back."

Kara frowned. "I'll befine. Let's just hurry. It's freezing out here."

Knowing how cold Hachiro must beup on that mountain, she would not let this brief exposure get to her. Or soshe thought. By the time they were halfway back to the house, her feet were sonumb that they felt like blocks of wood. Kara's father insisted that she lethim carry her, and she went along with it gladly. Thin as he was, Rob Harperwas still strong enough to lift his daughter in his arms.

For the first time in days, shefelt safe.

All through Wednesday morning,Kara felt as though she was holding her breath. School felt surreal. Why werethey here? Books and pencils, notes and quizzes. How could they all go on withthis ridiculous pantomime of normality? Miho kept glancing back at her with sadeyes, and Kara knew she was worried. Kara loved her for it, but Miho could notcomfort her.

Outside the windows, snowflakesdanced on gusts of January wind. She had woken this morning to a light coat ofnew fallen snow across Miyazu City. The white swirl looked beautiful over theturgid surface of the bay, but the sight of it had made her feel like throwingup.

She should be on the mountainwith Hachiro. Searching for him. Just sitting here, all she wanted to do wasscream.

It had taken her no time at allto get used to the Japanese system, in which the students remained in theirhomerooms all day and the teachers moved from class to class. Ordinarily shethought it a much more sensible way of doing things, but today she would havegiven anything to be able to get up out of her seat. Her eyes burned from lackof sleep and her head felt stuffed with cotton. Teacher after teacher enteredthe room and droned on, but to her they sounded like the adults in old CharlieBrown cartoons, their voices an unintelligible drone.

The seat in front of her wasempty. Sora's seat. She wondered what would happen to it. No one would want tosit there and the empty seat seemed forbidding, a constant reminder of hisdeath. Hours ticked by. At lunchtime, Kara turned away so she would not evenhave to look at it. She decided to talk to Mr. Sato at the end of the day andask if he could just have the desk removed.

The afternoon crept by even moreslowly than the morning. Several times she found herself nodding off. When herfather came in to teach his American Studies course, she tried her best to stayalert, but kept rubbing her eyes. He couldn't help but notice. Several times itseemed he was about to say something, but then he stopped himself. Kara knewthat he would be worried that it would be improper for him to interrupt classjust to ask her if she was all right, and she was glad. The conversation shewanted to have with him — needed to have with him — would have towait until school was over.

As she drifted between sleep andwakefulness, feeling a bit sick to her stomach from struggling to stay conscious,she thought of ghosts. Hachiro had seen Jiro, shoeless, on the train intoMiyazu City back at the beginning of this horror. Kara studied the back of Miho'shead and from time to time she glanced over at Mai, who sat in the front of theroom by the window, and she wondered.

The ghosts had to be connected.

Her father and Miss Aritomo wereworrying like mad, trying to figure out how to hide the girls from Yuki-Onna. Yesterdaythat quest had been a useful diversion, helping her keep her mind off of Hachiroat least part of the time. But today, she couldn't care less about the curse ofKyuketsuki. What the winter witch might do to her meant nothing — notwith Hachiro still missing.

No, she had to solve this. Figureout the mystery. They still didn't know for sure that it was even Yuki-Onnathey were dealing with. But with the woman who'd frozen to death on themountain and the way her haka had been disturbed, her ashes removed, it sureseemed to match the legend.