Thousand Shrine Warrior by Jessica Amanda Salmonson

Author:Jessica Amanda Salmonson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453293836
Publisher: Good Books

“The Wet Woman remained intent upon her task of making an opening in the roof, high above the site where priests previously divined a source of evil. When the hole was big enough, her slimy body oozed into it. Most of the monks were too afraid to go inside to see what she was up to. One, less afraid than others, was called ‘sixth light’ or Nichiroku. His one affectation was that he never shaved his head, and for this reason he was called, behind his back, ‘Disciple Page,’ for his effeminate appearance. He alone had the bravery to rush into the temple, a sturdy spear his sole companion.

“Winds rose and Raiju’s claws sparked, striking blue flames to the branches of trees. Monks ran for cover in woodsheds and the like. They could not hear anything inside the temple and were not eager to go in and see how brave Disciple Page fared.

“After a while, the Wet Woman squirmed up from the hole in the roof. She went down the outside of the temple, then over the cliff. Raiju, settling down and retracting his claws, tiptoed over the roof of the forest, wishing to avoid the sun. A few monks had taken refuge in an outbuilding near the cliff and they saw Nure-onna go slowly into the mist. Certain she would not climb up again, they hurried to the temple to see what havoc had been wrought.

“It was dark within, except for the dim morning light showing through the ruined roof. By this light they saw a rough opening in the floor. The Wet Woman had broken through the floorboards and dug a pit beneath the temple. From the pit, she extracted the ceremonial tablet, on which was scribed the Lotus Sutra; and it lay broken upon the altar. The face of the wooden Buddha had been scratched by the vindictive Nure-onna’s talons.

“In the bottom of the pit sat Nichiroku. His spear was stuck through his thigh. He moaned the Lotus Sutra, but in an odd way. The monks were afraid to help the delirious fellow, for when he looked up from the bottom of the haunted hole, his eyes shone like emeralds.

“Abbot Johei came at last, making no excuse about hiding for so long. He strutted about proudly in his priest’s robe, but it was false pride and barely disguised his budding doubts regarding the Lotus Sutra. Peering into the hole, he revealed no emotion at” the sight of Nichiroku, injured by his spear, mouthing the sutras strangely.

“The abbot, his faith faltering, sent the novices away, and addressed his six remaining chief disciples. They had always obeyed him implicitly. When he invented an explanation for the terrible events, they may not have believed him; but they were unwilling to express their doubts. ‘The Wet Woman was trying to help us,’ said Johei, pretending divine inspiration. ‘A Shinto monster has shown us that a human sacrifice alone can preserve the sanctity of our Buddhist temple.’

“With dour expressions, the six disciples pushed dirt into the hole, the dirt Nure-onna had dug out from under the floor.

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