Gloria Oliver Read Online Free PDF Page B

toward the door.
    “Rise above water?” He stared at her, perplexed.
    Miko turned back to face him for a moment. “It would be wise if you didn’t try to go above during the daytime.” With a rustling of silk, she left the room. A cold shiver coursed through him as he forced himself to sit back down.
    Alone, with nothing else to do, he examined his room. Other than the small table in the corner with its half-filled teapot, his cup and an empty plate, the glowing room contained nothing else but him, his blanket and two empty buckets sitting against the far wall.
    He stared at the closed and possibly unlocked door of his room as the weight of his predicament once more settled down around him. For a moment, he thought of trying to escape again, yet Miko’s parting words and his own recollection of the ship as it rose from beneath the water made him realize there was nothing he could do, except maybe die. It was amazing he wasn’t dead already. The concept of being underwater, yet still able to breathe, seemed more than he could ponder. And he had other problems besides those. He was to be tested by the samurai that night. He shuddered at the thought. In the unfamiliar silence of his room, he wondered what would happen to him should he fail the test. He doubted Asaka would be gracious enough to return him home. His mind easily pictured his most likely reward.
    Now colder than when he had awakened, he curled up in his blanket and returned to his corner.

Chapter 3
    “Toshi-san. It’s time to get up. Toshi-san.”
    His heavy eyelids flickered open as he felt himself shaken by the shoulder. A bright silver kimono with glowing gold and red flowers filled his field of vision as Miko knelt at his side. Smiling slightly, glad she was there, he let his eyes close again.
    “Toshi-san, it’s time to eat. Asaka-sama will be coming for you shortly.”
    The demon’s name brought him fully awake. With a grimace, he opened his eyes and pushed up into a sitting position. Rubbing his face, he gradually became more alert as the scent of freshly brewed tea wove into his nostrils.
    “That’s much better,” Miko said. “Now, come, let me serve you. We haven’t much time.”
    He draped his blanket about himself and rose groggily to his feet before sidling over to the small table in the corner of the room. Serving him tea, Miko also placed in front of him a plate filled with dried fish and rice cakes. To his delight, he also noted she’d brought him a couple of sweet cakes.
    As he ate, he watched the geisha as she rose from the table and headed to the door. Sitting beside it, propped against the wall, was a koto . He watched with some awakening interest as she picked up the long, gently curving wooden instrument and set it on the floor before her. Miko bowed to him then picked up a small pick after sliding small wooden blocks beneath each of the strings over the main body and setting them up in a specific pattern. Long, lonely notes filled the room as she wove her music for him.
    Downing a second cup of hot tea as fast as his throat would tolerate, he listened. With a bit of surprise, he found he was caught up in the music as it turned from sweet melancholy to a brash, more upbeat pace.
    He became fascinated just watching her play. He slid his plate from the table to set it before him so he wouldn’t have to look away to eat. Miko’s movements were so fluid, so precise, her fleshless fingers handling the instrument almost as if it were a part of her.
    While he sat there, he dared to try and imagine how the geisha might have looked in life. That a spirit could create such beauty dazzled him. He wondered if she were trying to imprison him in some sort of spell. He found that, at the moment, he didn’t care if she was.
    He continued to eat, lost in the music, until a sudden knock on the door reverberated through the room.
    Miko stopped playing. The door to the room opened.
    Toshi felt his throat go dry as the still-armored samurai