you both if you don’t.”
“I don’t think you’ll kill either of us,” Koyasan said. “Not when you hear what I have to offer instead of our deaths.”
“More deathssss?” the spirits asked eagerly. “Will you go back and trick a lot of otherssss into coming here, to be killed in your placccce?”
“No,” Koyasan snorted.
“Then what?” the spirits grumbled.
“If you let us go,” Koyasan said, “I’ll promise to come back here one night every week... and play with you.”
There was a long silence.
“Isss thissss a joke?” the spirits finally asked.
“No.”
“You think we want to play with you?” They sounded offended. “We are powerful, wicked ssspiritssss. We are the dead who have been denied the pleasssuressss of the next world. We exisssst to torment, torture and dessstroy.”
“No, you don’t,” Koyasan said. “You exist because you don’t have any other choice. You act wickedly because people don’t understand you and treat you like evil monsters. I’m sure some of you were wicked in life, but not all of you. You can’t have been. I bet most of you were normal people and it was just bad luck that you ended up stuck here in this graveyard. Right?”
The spirits didn’t answer. She could tell her words had troubled them.
“You’re lonely and bored,” Koyasan said quietly, confidence coming with understanding and sympathy. “You’ve known each other so long, you probably don’t have anything left to talk about. You get glimpses of the world outside, and I’m sure you want to know more about it, how it’s changed, what people are like, what’s happened to the places you used to live and the people you once knew.”
“They’re all dead now,” the spirits said.
“Yes. But there are records of what they did, stories and legends. But you’ve no way of finding out any of that because nobody ever comes here to tell you.
“Well, that can change. I’ ll come. One night a week, like I promised. I’ll play with you and read to you. I’ll tell you all the stories and history that I know, and find out new tales to pass on. I’ll sing and dance if you wish, although I’m not very good at that. I’ll bring paintings and small statues, and clothes so you can see what people are wearing. If you want to know about sports, I can find out. If you just want to talk, and tell me about your past or your troubles, I’ll sit and listen.
“I’ll be your friend,” Koyasan concluded simply, then waited for the spirits to answer.
HOME
Koyasan CROSSED THE bridge with Maiko’s soul in her arms. It was warm and slippery, and she had to be careful not to drop it. Part of her was still afraid, worried that the spirits might change their minds and attack. But mostly she was calm and carefree. She had nothing to fear in the graveyard at the end of this long, amazing night — and would never have anything to fear there again.
The spirits had agreed to her proposal. There’d been some dissent. A few wanted to rip her to pieces. There were several truly evil spirits, who cared only about hurting and killing. But most were like living people, with the shadows of good hearts. They’d forgotten that for a while and become the monsters they were treated as. But Koyasan had reminded them of their humanity. The majority of noble spirits had quickly put the troublemakers in their place and made them agree to let Koyasan pass safely.
She hurried from the bridge to the village. The sky was brightening above her, ahead of the sun’s stately entrance. She could see smoke rising over the roof of her hut. Her parents hadn’t slept during the night, keeping vigil by Maiko’s side.
As Koyasan passed through the gate, someone moved in the shadows to her left. Glancing around, Koyasan saw Itako standing there. The old woman was smiling. “You did well,” she said softly, then returned to her hut. She was too old to waste a lot of time on unnecessary words of praise.
Koyasan’s mother
“I don’t think you’ll kill either of us,” Koyasan said. “Not when you hear what I have to offer instead of our deaths.”
“More deathssss?” the spirits asked eagerly. “Will you go back and trick a lot of otherssss into coming here, to be killed in your placccce?”
“No,” Koyasan snorted.
“Then what?” the spirits grumbled.
“If you let us go,” Koyasan said, “I’ll promise to come back here one night every week... and play with you.”
There was a long silence.
“Isss thissss a joke?” the spirits finally asked.
“No.”
“You think we want to play with you?” They sounded offended. “We are powerful, wicked ssspiritssss. We are the dead who have been denied the pleasssuressss of the next world. We exisssst to torment, torture and dessstroy.”
“No, you don’t,” Koyasan said. “You exist because you don’t have any other choice. You act wickedly because people don’t understand you and treat you like evil monsters. I’m sure some of you were wicked in life, but not all of you. You can’t have been. I bet most of you were normal people and it was just bad luck that you ended up stuck here in this graveyard. Right?”
The spirits didn’t answer. She could tell her words had troubled them.
“You’re lonely and bored,” Koyasan said quietly, confidence coming with understanding and sympathy. “You’ve known each other so long, you probably don’t have anything left to talk about. You get glimpses of the world outside, and I’m sure you want to know more about it, how it’s changed, what people are like, what’s happened to the places you used to live and the people you once knew.”
“They’re all dead now,” the spirits said.
“Yes. But there are records of what they did, stories and legends. But you’ve no way of finding out any of that because nobody ever comes here to tell you.
“Well, that can change. I’ ll come. One night a week, like I promised. I’ll play with you and read to you. I’ll tell you all the stories and history that I know, and find out new tales to pass on. I’ll sing and dance if you wish, although I’m not very good at that. I’ll bring paintings and small statues, and clothes so you can see what people are wearing. If you want to know about sports, I can find out. If you just want to talk, and tell me about your past or your troubles, I’ll sit and listen.
“I’ll be your friend,” Koyasan concluded simply, then waited for the spirits to answer.
HOME
Koyasan CROSSED THE bridge with Maiko’s soul in her arms. It was warm and slippery, and she had to be careful not to drop it. Part of her was still afraid, worried that the spirits might change their minds and attack. But mostly she was calm and carefree. She had nothing to fear in the graveyard at the end of this long, amazing night — and would never have anything to fear there again.
The spirits had agreed to her proposal. There’d been some dissent. A few wanted to rip her to pieces. There were several truly evil spirits, who cared only about hurting and killing. But most were like living people, with the shadows of good hearts. They’d forgotten that for a while and become the monsters they were treated as. But Koyasan had reminded them of their humanity. The majority of noble spirits had quickly put the troublemakers in their place and made them agree to let Koyasan pass safely.
She hurried from the bridge to the village. The sky was brightening above her, ahead of the sun’s stately entrance. She could see smoke rising over the roof of her hut. Her parents hadn’t slept during the night, keeping vigil by Maiko’s side.
As Koyasan passed through the gate, someone moved in the shadows to her left. Glancing around, Koyasan saw Itako standing there. The old woman was smiling. “You did well,” she said softly, then returned to her hut. She was too old to waste a lot of time on unnecessary words of praise.
Koyasan’s mother
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