Okame rose to his feet. “Well, I was thinking about killing you for throwing us to the gaki, but on second thought, it seems your lives are pretty awful as is.” He glanced at me and smirked. “So, what say we get out of here before the curse latches on to us?”
“Can we?” Tatsumi wondered, his eyes grim. “Will we be stalked by gaki ourselves if we try to leave?”
“No,” the headman said dully. “Your ancestors did not anger the monk. The curse will not follow you. You can leave and not look back. I would not blame you, of course. This is our punishment, no one else’s.”
“Has anyone tried talking to him?” I asked, and those dead eyes shifted to me. “The monk? His ghost is still hanging around.”
“The monk.” A shadow of real terror crossed the man’s face. “We’ve occasionally seen glimpses of him around the village,” he said. “But he disappears before we can speak to him. We think it’s more an effect of the curse, an echo of the monk, not the ghost himself.” He shivered. “The onryo...we’ve seen him in the cemetery sometimes, a glowing spirit in white, walking among the graves. But none of us dare venture close—the gaki would tear us to pieces.”
“And he only appears when the gaki come out?” I asked.
“Yes. It is as if he wishes to see our misery and terror, to make certain we are suffering.” The headman sighed. “I cannot blame his anger, our ancestors did him a great wrong. But it pains me, knowing I am destined to become a wretched thing that preys on my own family. I cannot even take my own life if I am simply to rise as one of them.”
“Yumeko,” Tatsumi said in a warning voice from the hallway, as if realizing what I was thinking. I pretended not to hear him and rose, turning to face my companions.
“We have to help them.”
“What?” Okame gave me a look of disbelief. “March through a cemetery crawling with gaki to talk to a ghost? In case you didn’t notice, I was almost eaten a few minutes ago. I could really go the rest of my life without having to experience the real thing.”
I ignored the ronin, locking eyes with Tatsumi, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “We have to do this, Tatsumi-san. After hearing their story, how can we walk away now? These people have suffered enough—they aren’t the targets of his wrath any longer. If we could just talk to the monk, maybe we could convince him to lift the curse.”
“Yumeko.” Tatsumi’s gaze was hard, and he shook his head. “Grudge spirits can’t be reasoned with,” he said in a grave voice. “Their anger has consumed them, and their vengeance can never be satisfied. If the monk is truly an onryo, you won’t have any hope of placating it, and it could very well turn its wrath on you.”
Fear prickled my stomach. “I’m...willing to take that chance,” I said. “It won’t take long. I just need someone to keep the gaki away while I talk to the monk. This is the last night of the month,” I reminded him, as his eyes narrowed. “It will be the only time we can talk to him. When dawn comes, he’ll disappear with the gaki and we’ll lose our chance to lift the curse.”
Tatsumi held my gaze a moment longer, then let out a breath. “You’re going to talk to him with or without me, aren’t you?” he murmured.
I nodded. “I might not be able to wield a sword or shoot an arrow,” I told him, “but I can talk to ghosts and kami. I want to help, and this is something I can do.”
He sighed again and glanced out the door. “We don’t have much time,” he said, making my heart leap in my chest. “When dawn comes, spirits tend to fade when the first light breaks over the horizon. If we’re going to speak to the monk, we should do it now.”
Okame groaned. “Hold on,” he growled as we turned toward the door. After pulling the sake gourd from his obi, he yanked off the top and tipped the container upside down into his open mouth, emptying it fully. He wiped his lips, then tossed the bottle at the headman and turned back to us with a grin. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
The village was silent as we walked back outside. Overhead, the moon blazed down, outlining the houses in