Discord seemed to saturate the water like foul poison. Suddenly Reiko could no longer bear to stay near Sano. Rising, she climbed out of the tub in a cascade of dripping water.

“Reiko-san, wait,” Sano said.

She heard anguish in his voice but ignored his plea. There was nothing more to say that would alter his opinion or hers. Reiko snatched a cloth from a shelf and swathed her wet body. She hurried out of the room and down the hall to her chamber. Shivering with cold and agitation, she dried herself and donned a dressing gown. Then she knelt by the charcoal brazier and tried to think how to find the Fugatami children and thwart the Black Lotus’s schemes before the trial, when the machinery of the law would claim Haru. Now that neither she nor Sano could go back to the Black Lotus Temple, they had no way to see into the sect.

The thought stimulated Reiko’s memory of Midori proposing to spy on the temple. Reiko suddenly realized that she hadn’t seen or heard from her friend all day. Disturbed to think Midori was so offended that she was avoiding contact, Reiko decided she must seek out Midori first thing tomorrow and try to repair their friendship.

At the Black Lotus Temple, nuns herded a hundred novices through the precinct. The young women, dressed in white robes, their long hair loose, marched in pairs past dark, silent buildings. Their eager faces shone in the fitful light from lanterns carried by the nuns. No one spoke. The only noises were their rapid breaths, the scuff of sandals on the gravel path, and the whine of cicadas in the shrubbery. In the middle of the line, Midori walked beside Toshiko. Excitement permeated the group like an invisible force. Midori trembled with anticipation, sure that tonight she would learn something of major importance about the Black Lotus.

After she’d been accepted into the temple, she had expected the nuns to assign her the menial chores that novices usually performed at temples. She’d thought she could look around and talk with sect members; however, that hadn’t happened. Instead, Midori had spent the day closed up in the nunnery with the other novices. An elderly priest had taught them verses from the Black Lotus Sutra. All speech except chanting the verses had been forbidden. Nuns armed with wooden paddles rapped the heads of anyone who talked during meals. Still, whispers buzzed among the novices. Toshiko had sat beside Midori and passed on gossip: “Enemies are slaughtering our kind.” “All the nuns and priests and Black Lotus followers have been ordered to come to the temple. No one is allowed to leave.” “The temple is closed to outsiders.” “It will happen soon!”

“What are they talking about?” Midori whispered to Toshiko.

A paddle rapped their heads, silencing them. Through the window bars Midori saw nuns and priests hurrying by, carrying bundles. A sense of secret purpose pervaded the atmosphere. Midori longed to explore and find out what was going on, but the nuns watched her constantly; they even accompanied the novices to the privy. Then, at the evening meal, Abbess Junketsu-in had addressed the novices.

“High Priest Anraku has declared that our day of destiny is near, and we must prepare ourselves,” she said. “All novices shall be initiated at a ceremony tonight.”

Now, as the novices marched through the precinct, the main hall loomed ahead. The nuns led the novices up the stairs, and sudden fear came over Midori because no one had explained what would happen at the initiation ceremony. She hung back, but Toshiko pulled her along with the other girls. Priests opened the doors. Smoky golden light spilled outward, welcoming the novices inside.

There, flames leapt in brass lanterns that hung from the high, beamed ceiling. Young priests stood like an army of black-robed, shaven-headed soldiers along walls covered with ornate lacquer friezes. Mirrors above these reflected and expanded the large room. A gleaming, polished cypress floor fronted the altar, a high platform that spanned the entire back wall and held golden Buddha statues, thousands of glowing candles, and incense burners that filled the air with sweet, pungent smoke. Beyond these, a gigantic mural depicted a black lotus. Midori gasped in awe.

The nuns arranged the novices in ten rows facing the altar. Midori and Toshiko stood together in the second row.

“Praise the glory of the Black Lotus,” chanted the priests.

Suddenly, smoke erupted from the altar’s center, billowing in a thick column to the ceiling. Surprised exclamations burst from Midori and the other novices. Up through the smoke rose a human figure. It was a tall man who wore a black patch over his left eye, and a sparkling, multicolored brocade robe.

“Bow down before Honorable High Priest Anraku,” ordered the nuns.

As she and her comrades dropped to their knees, pressed their foreheads to the floor, and extended their arms, Midori tried to still her body’s panicky trembling and be brave. She wished Hirata and Reiko were here with her.

The high priest spoke: “Welcome, my followers.” His quiet voice had a resonance that penetrated clearly through the chanting. “Raise your heads so I can look upon you.”

Midori cautiously sat upright. Anraku stepped forward to the red bars of the low railing that bordered the altar. The mirrors multiplied his image all around the room. His beauty dazzled Midori. His gaze scanned the novices, and when it briefly held Midori’s, she felt an instant, exhilarating connection to him.

“I congratulate you on the advent of your membership in the Black Lotus,” Anraku said. “You have come here from many different circumstances of life, from places near and far, but you all have one marvelous thing in common.”

He paused, and Midori shared the breathless suspense that immobilized the audience.

“You are unique among mortals,” Anraku continued, spreading his arms in an all-encompassing embrace. The smoky air vibrated with the chanting and the force of his personality. “You have extraordinary perception and strong, pure spirit. You are capable of miracles. You are destined for greatness.”

Pride swelled the chests of the hundred novices and brought smiles to their faces. Anraku’s words stirred Midori despite her role as an outsider and spy. The drifting incense smoke suffused her lungs; she felt giddy. Perhaps she really was special, and Anraku was the first to recognize the fact.

“You have all paid a price for being special.” As Anraku leaned toward the audience, he seemed to grow in stature; his voice reverberated. “The world is cruel to those who are different. You have suffered slights, mockery, and rejection. You have been ostracized, banished, and punished unjustly. Your lives have been filled with pain.”

Sobs punctuated the chanting. Midori saw grief contorting the faces of the young women. Their misery infected her. She recalled Hirata’s hurtful teasing and his neglect of her, Reiko’s condescension, the Edo Castle ladies-in-waiting who snubbed her, the family she rarely saw. Tears spilled from her eyes.

“Those who have hurt you have done so because they envy you,”

Anraku said. “They wish to destroy the superiority that you possess and they can never achieve.”

Revelation stunned Midori. Such a perfectly logical explanation for her troubles! All around her she saw comprehension dawning on tearful faces.

“But your suffering has a purpose. The divine forces have sent misfortunes to test your spirits. By surviving, you have passed the test. Now fate has chosen you to join an elite order of people like yourselves. You have come to your true home. Here you shall find the fulfillment you deserve.”

Anraku smiled, radiating a benevolence that healed past hurts. Now the novices wept for joy, and Midori with them. Perhaps fate really had brought her here, and this was indeed the one place where people would appreciate her.