Christopher Golden - A Winter of Ghosts

"I don't understand,"Sakura said. "What does this have to do with Yuki-Onna?"

Akane smiled. "Winterghosts. She's a ghost herself, in a way, the spirit of the woman who died onthe mountain during the season's first snowfall. And when Yuki-Onna comes, andthe snow falls, the spirits who have not yet moved on can rise with her."

Sakura shook her head. "Butwhy haven't you moved on?"

"I wasn't ready to letgo," Akane said. "None of us were. It was too fast, too soon. We hadpeople here to look after."

The world shifted aroundSakura. Akane still stood in front of her, but now they were little girlsagain, no more than eight and nine, and they were in the bedroom they hadalways shared growing up. Music played, but as it happened so often in dreams,Sakura could not make out the tune. She inhaled the scent of ripe plums yetagain.

"I've been looking aftermyself," Sakura said.

A terrible sadness filledAkane's eyes. "Not very well."

Sakura felt cold. Her chesthurt with every breath. Pain swept in, lancing through her side and clutchingher skull in an iron grip, and slowly sounds began to filter into her bedroom. Pokemonlined shelves on the walls. Her little Catbus purse hung from the back of achair.

They had been so happy here.

"Am I really dying?" she asked, her voice so small inside her own head.

Akane smiled. "Nottoday. I told you, I am here to look after you. You need strength. You need toheal. You need life , and I can give you mine."

Sakura recoiled, shaking herhead. She didn't like the sound of that.

"No. What do you mean,life? Akane, what do you — "

The carpet became a muddyslope by the bay, the room vanished around them.

"You need to live,"Akane said.

She reached out to touch hersister's face, her hand passing right through flesh and bone, and. .

Sakura woke, inhaling sharply,pain clamped around her skull. Her eyes darted back and forth but she couldbarely move. Machines beeped. She tried to speak but her voice failed her.

She closed her eyes tightly. Herthoughts were blurred but she wondered if this was what it felt like to die.

And then she opened her eyes tosee the ghost of her sister, Akane, standing over her bed. Sakura feltsomething break inside of her. For days, others had been seeing ghosts and allshe had wanted was to see a ghost of her own, to be in the presence of hersister one last time.

"I miss you," Sakurarasped weakly.

Akane did not speak, only shookher head with that smile.

Though she had put aside so muchof her rage and grief already, Sakura had been holding on to a small, burningshard of fury, hidden deep inside. Often she had hidden it even from herself,because this anger was not directed at Akane's murderer, but at Akane herself,for leaving. It made no sense and it was not fair, but Sakura had nursed thepain and anger for a year and a half, ever since Akane's death.

Now she felt it leave her, andfresh sadness filled her. She wanted to apologize somehow, but already herstrength was fading and the darkness swirled around the edges of her thoughtsagain, unconsciousness about to claim her once more.

Whatever toughness Sakura hadtried to nurture in her outward image, whatever rebelliousness might be in hernature, in that moment she felt her heart laid bare.

"I love you," shesaid, tears welling in her eyes.

Akane reached down to touch herface, bent to kiss her forehead, and even as Sakura's eyelids flickered and shebegan to drift off, she thought she saw Akane begin to vanish. It seemed almostas if the ghost were vanishing into Sakura, and as this thought occurredto her, a surge of new vitality flooded through her. The pain in her headabated dramatically, if not completely.

"Akane?" Sakurawhispered, touching a hand to her chest.

The ghost had disappeared, butSakura thought she knew where her sister had gone. She didn't know how, but sheknew why. Her sister loved her, and something had to be done about Yuki-Onna. Shecould feel the thoughts in her mind, although they did not feel like her own.

Though the pain in her head hadabated, still she felt exhausted, perhaps from the painkillers, and sleep beganto claim her again.

As consciousness slipped away,she felt sure that she smelled ripe plums.

Kara and Miss Aritomo hadoriginally planned to go all the way to the observatory on Takigami Mountain tosummon Yuki-Onna. They worried that if they did not go far enough up themountain that they would not truly be on it, and then the summoning might notbe successful, and then Kubo and the others would have no chance of findingHachiro and Ren. It was Kara's father who had prevailed upon them tocompromise. Halfway up from the parking lot to the observatory and no further.. about the point where Sora's ghost had first appeared. If they could drawYuki-Onna there, it would bring her even further from wherever she was keepingthe boys, but leave Kara and Miss Aritomo closer to the car.

Nobody bothered to point outthat the car would be poor protection from the Woman in White. She could freezethe windows so hard that the glass would be brittle as eggshell. Or smash themout with a gust of wind.

Better all around, Kara thought,if Yuki-Onna did not attack them at all.

She knelt in the snow, rubbingthe smooth stone ward that Kubo had given her between her thumb and forefinger.The leather thong around her neck smelled nice and she relished that for amoment, then let it drop.

"This is the strangestritual I've ever heard of," she said aloud, shivering as an icy breezeblew up, glancing around to make sure that was all it was.

From a small stand of pines offto the right of the path, a polite voice replied.

"Master Kubo is the Unsui,"Miss Aritomo said, poking her head out from between two thick pines. "Hewould not mislead you."

Kara stared at her. Miss Aritomohad once had a great love of Noh theater, until an attempt to perform a Nohplay at school — combined with the curse of Kyuketsuki — had led toone of the most famous demons of the Noh stage coming to life and possessingher body. Now, though she still advised the Noh Club at Monju-no-Chie school,her passion for the art seemed diminished.

Today, however, she had worn amask from her vast collection. Masks were an integral part of Noh theatre,vital to performance and storytelling. Kara knew she must have seen thisparticular mask before — with a wisp of white beard, green horns, goldand black eyes, and a bright red tongue, it had to be a demon or evil spirit — but she could not place it or remember its name. Not that the name matteredmuch. Kubo had said that the wards would be powerful, but that spirits saw theessence of a person, not really their face, and that masks might help hide theperson's essence.

It wouldn't hide Yuuka, but itmight buy her a few minutes of confusion if the Yuki-Onna discovered her hidingthere. Kara had wanted to take the mask for herself and give Miss Aritomo theward, but no one would agree. She and Sakura and Miho were cursed; they — and the boys in whom the Winter Witch had taken such an interest — werethe ones who needed the most protection. But it frightened Kara to have MissAritomo there with only a mask to hide her.

She prayed that Kubo really didknow what he was talking about.

"What are you waiting for?" Miss Aritomo said. "You need to begin."

Kara glanced at her cell phone,saw the time, and knew that Yuuka was right. Kubo, Miho, and Mr. Yamato were onthe mountain, waiting for Yuki-Onna to leave the boys behind. It was time tobegin the summoning.

She took a deep breath and letit out. Her every exhalation plumed into icy mist in the air. The sky hung lowand gray, thick with unfallen snow. But she knew that the storm could begin atYuki-Onna's merest whim.