Pilgrimage (32 page)

“I don't know. I was just about to knock on the door when I started thinking about how thirsty I was.”

“Of course.” Griffith smiled and pulled Roland's hand up to his eyes. “Look!” Roland's ring was glowing.

“Magic?”

“Magic! Master Yasu must have put a spell on his house; maybe the whole property is enchanted. Think about it: What better way to be a hermit than to magically make sure nobody ever comes to your house? It's not just hard to notice or easy to go by. We've been pushed away from the house with magic.”

“That explains it. So can you break the spell?” Roland asked.

“No, but now that I know it's there, I can resist it.”

Roland's expression made it clear he didn't understand.

Griffith explained: “Unless you know exactly how a spell works, it's hard to remove it or break it. But sometimes a sorcerer can turn the spell away from him. It's like matching your will against the will of the spell.”

“So am I supposed to just stay outside while you talk to Master Yasu?”

“No, we just need to get inside. I doubt he's got the same spell inside his house. So I'll lead and, instead of thinking about the house and Master Yasu, just focus on following me. In fact, keep one hand on my shoulder the whole time and keep reminding yourself to follow me.”

Roland nodded. “I can do that.”

“I'm sure you can.”

Griffith walked forward first. As he passed, Roland grabbed him by the shoulder and turned his head down. He walked in time with Griffith and stared intently at the younger man's shoes. He contemplated each step as it came and walled everything else out of his mind. Everything except how old and worn his shoes were. He really needed to throw them out. Maybe he could get some in Salem. Roland looked up and wondered why in the hell he was holding Griffith's shoulder.

Griffith knocked on the door. The lock clicked and the door creaked open a little.

“Master Yasu?” Griffith asked.

“Nani?” The curt voice belonged to a woman.

“I'm sorry?”

“What do you want?

“I've come seeking Master Yasu. Does he still live here?”

“She.” The woman's voice corrected, sounding just a little insulted.

“She?”

“Hai.
She
still lives here.”

“Oh.” Griffith's cheeks reddened. “I'm sorry. Master Yasu, I've come here because I was told you are one of the greatest sorcerers in the world and unmatched in your powers over life.”

“Sorceress,” Roland whispered. Since Yasu answered the door, he'd found it much easier to focus.

“Sorceress. I meant sorceress. Sorry.”

“Are you sick?”

“Me? Yes. But there are a lot of people in a town called Gravesend, not far from here who have it worse. Please, let us in and I'll explain everything.”

“Come in.” The door opened wide and Griffith started walking again. Roland let go of Griffith's shoulder and took a look around.

Master Yasu's house had been cleared of most of the walls to make one large room. She kept it in immaculate condition. On one side of the room was a shelf stacked with pillows and blankets. In the centre of the room was a low table covered by a tablecloth that hung to the floor on every side. There was a stove built into one of the kitchen benches and a sink beside that, but no sign of an oven, a refrigerator or even a kettle. An open door off the kitchen led to a white, tiled bathroom. The house was devoid of even the simplest luxury items or electronics. A shelf, similar to the one housing the bedding, stood on the other side of the room with mostly empty shelves, except for one which was stacked with notebooks. Roland wondered if they were spell books and imagined what sort of powerful magic Master Yasu had recorded in her years. Whatever else Master Yasu might own she kept locked in in an ancient grey travelling chest by the bookshelf. The chest was covered in fading stamps and stickers in more languages than Roland could name.

Master Yasu was dressed completely in white. She wore a jacket that wrapped around her torso and tucked into a long, pleated skirt that draped over her feet. As she turned from them and moved into the kitchen, her coarse, shoulder-length black hair hid her face, but Roland noticed the skin on her hands was wrinkled and pale. She was even shorter than Griffith and walked with a slight stoop. Upon reaching the kitchen she turned on one of the stove burners and turned back to face Roland and Griffith. Her sunken, black eyes and the innumerable wrinkles across her skin made her look a few years shy of prehistoric. Roland was dumbfounded. This ancient, grumpy Asian woman was not what he had been expecting when he'd first heard of a legendary master sorcerer. He'd been expecting more robes and beards.

“You did well to get to the door,” Master Yasu said to break the silence. “You at least deserve some tea and a chance to tell me why you came. Please sit down.” She gestured to the table in the middle of the room. Griffith was the first to take her offer. He dropped his backpack by the table and sat on the floor. Roland followed his lead without saying a word.

“We don't have much time, so I'll tell you everything I can as quick as I can,” Griffith began.

“Whatever crisis you need help with won't benefit by you rushing. Talk slowly and clearly so I understand you completely.”

“Yes, master. My name is Griffith and this is my friend Roland. We've both come a long way to see you. You see, I was an apprentice to a man named Edan Fawkes.”

“I know Edan Fawkes. He was my apprentice many years ago. There were no yamabushi in his family, but he believed me to be a witch, like many other young boys. Unlike the others, he was not afraid. He came to me to learn.” “Yamabushi?”

“What you call a sorcerer, in Japan we call yamabushi. Well, some of them. The nice ones.”

“I know that you taught master Edan and he always spoke highly of you. He said that one day he would introduce me to you but he never got the chance. He was killed by another of his apprentices.”

“That is a shame. I'm sorry for your loss and I am sorry you came all this way for nothing. I stopped taking apprentices long ago.”

“Please wait, Master Yasu. There is more.”

Griffith went on to tell the tale of his pilgrimage, of his encounters with Lloyd and Pentdragon. He spoke of the disease Lloyd had created, of his death at the hands of Caia and of the poor town of Gravesend and the terrible fate ahead of it. Griffith told her about his suffering and now Roland suffered from the disease, too. He told Master Yasu the sacrifice Caia had made so that he could go on and find Salem. Finally, he said:

“Your power is legendary, Master Yasu. With your knowledge of life and death and healing, you should be able to save Gravesend. If anybody can do it, then it's you.”

While Griffith spoke, Master Yasu boiled water on the stove and poured it from a saucepan into a ceramic, disc-shaped tea pot. When he had finished his plea, she silently brought the pot to the table and poured a pale yellow tea into three shallow, black cups. Then she set the pot down in the centre of the table, lifted her tea cup by the tips of her fingers and slurped down her first sip. She eyed Roland and Griffith until they did the same and then, at last, she spoke.

“I don't know what you expect me to do. None of this concerns me and I don't even know if it's true. How do I know that you are really Edan's apprentice? How do I know that Gravesend is in any danger at all? And why should I help them, if it is?”

“Give her the letter,” Roland said. Griffith nodded and dug it out of his bag and slid it across the table to Master Yasu. She opened the envelope and read it.

When she had finished, she asked: “Do you know what this says?”

“No, I haven't read it.”

“Perhaps you should.” Master Yasu handed it back and Griffith read it aloud.

“To the great and powerful Master Yasu of Salem. You have no doubt been told by his apprentice, Griffith, that your student Edan Fawkes has been murdered. I have known Edan Fawkes for years now, and Griffith since he was apprenticed two years ago. Edan often spoke of bringing Griffith to you when his training was done. Now that Edan has died at the hands of his second apprentice, I am writing you in his stead as an introduction for Griffith.

“We have not met but your name precedes you. Your powers of healing and your mastery of life and death are legendary. I can think of no better apprentice to learn from you and carry on your work than Griffith. In the time I have known him, he has been dedicated to his strong sense of morality. There is no one I know who is kinder or more merciful. His magic is focused on healing almost to the exclusion of any other spells. He is a promising and gifted sorcerer – the likes of which are rarely seen.

“When last I spoke of the matter, however, Edan did not believe Griffith was ready to meet you and I would be at fault if I did not relate those concerns to you. Griffith is single-minded – to his own disadvantage. He is rarely able to see beyond one goal or accept new ideas that challenge his own. He is blindly loyal to his friends and to his master, unable to question even the most absurd or insulting request. He has also shown almost no initiative in creating his own spells or exploring his own magical abilities outside what he has been taught. He does not seem motivated to reach his potential or study independently of a master.

“Edan and myself have never had any doubts that Griffith has near unparalleled potential as a sorcerer. The fact that he was apprenticed so late and chosen by Edan Fawkes is proof enough of that. But he has many basic lessons still to learn and the road will be long for Griffith.

“I leave the choice entirely in your hands, Master Yasu, but know that I give Griffith as much a recommendation as his limitations and the wishes of Edan Fawkes allows. Yours sincerely, Geoffrey Owen Girard.”

Griffith folded the letter and placed it on the table. He said nothing but waited for Master Yasu's judgement.

“I have never heard of Geoffrey Girard and this isn't proof of anything you've told me. In spite of that, I do believe your story. But that doesn't change my mind. You might one day be very good, but I don't take apprentices any more and that includes you.”

“What about Gravesend?” Griffith said, his voice rising with frustration as he went on. “That's what is really important, right now. If you won't teach me, that's fine, but all those people are going to die!”

“That's a different question. The least I can do is agree to go and see if there's anything I can do to help Gravesend. But I'm not promising anything.”

“That's fine.” Griffith got to his feet and edged towards the door. “We'll drive you there right now. Just see if you can help them. If not, we'll figure something else out.”

Master Yasu stood up and waved him away. “I'll join you in a moment. I have to get some things.” She brushed her skirt and moved over to her book shelf. She browsed the books slowly, running a finger over each spine. Griffith watched her but, by the fourth book she examined and rejected, his patience ran out.

“I'll go bring the car around!” He shouted, then ran for the door.

Chapter 19

Roland waited in the house for Master Yasu, just to make sure she was coming. He watched as she finally chose two books and then took a key from around her neck and unlocked the travelling chest. Master Yasu took out a heavy brown leather sack and dropped the books into it, followed by an almost random collection of glass jars, incense sticks and small rolls of paper. She fastened the sack and started to close the chest but stopped to look over her shoulder at Roland. He stared back at her, wide eyed and baffled. He could hear the hearse's engine outside, as Griffith revved it periodically. Master Yasu reached back into the travelling chest and, after digging beneath whatever countless, unknown trinkets and artefacts she kept locked inside, pulled out a string of brown and green beads. Then she locked the chest and brought her sack and the necklace to Roland. Without saying a word, she reached up with the beads towards Roland. He stooped to meet her, uncertain what she was doing but driven by curiosity. Yasu looped the beads around his neck and fastened them with an iron clasp no bigger than her fingertips.

“You are mortal,” Yasu said.

“Yes.” Roland nodded.

“You are sick.”

“Yes.”

“These will protect you.”

“From what?” Roland asked.

“Yamabushi. You should never have been shown our world. It's not safe.”

Roland shrugged. “I've managed okay so far.”

“These are Nio prayer beads.” Yasu went on. “They protect those who protect a Yamabushi. With them, you might manage to do
okay
a little longer.”

“I don't get it.”

“You don't need to. Now, come. Griffith is waiting.”

Griffith had brought the hearse as close as he could to Master Yasu's front yard. Roland and Master Yasu approached the car and stopped at the door. Roland suspected that Master Yasu was having the same thought he was: There were only two seats. Before he could say anything, Master Yasu opened the door, sat down in the passenger seat and closed the door. Roland stared at her, unable to find words for his shock. Not even a
thanks
or
age before beauty
crossed her lips. Roland slid into the back of the hearse through the coffin loading door. He wriggled and turned until he was as comfortable as he could get. He squeezed between two metal bars on either side of him, presumably used for locking coffins in place. Roland gripped one and held himself steady as the hearse started moving. He made a mental note to remind Griffith to steal a car with more seats, next time.