“Look around you at your new clan,” Anraku said with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “Know that you belong here, together, among others of your kind.”
Warm, affectionate glances passed among the novices. Midori felt the bliss of a comradeship she’d never known before. She chanted, “Praise the glory of the Black Lotus!”
“You share an important purpose,” Anraku said. “You all seek spiritual awareness, divine knowledge, and the ultimate expression of the powers within. With me as your guide, you shall attain all those blessings. You are ready to begin the first step of your journey.”
Eager stirrings rippled the audience. Anraku said, “The Black Lotus Sutra describes the path to enlightenment as a tapestry woven from an infinite number of threads. Approach me one by one so that I may look into your spirit and discern which thread bears your name.”
Two nuns walked to the first row of novices. They led a young woman up to the altar. Midori experienced sudden alarm. She’d gotten so carried away by the ritual that she’d forgotten why she was here. Anraku leaned down, grasped the novice’s face between his hands, and stared intently into her eyes. The chanting accelerated. Midori saw Anraku’s lips move as he spoke to the novice and knew she couldn’t go up there. When her turn came, Anraku might guess she was a spy!
Anraku released the novice, who stumbled back to her place, weeping. Nuns led other novices to the altar. After the high priest spoke to them, some moaned, cried, or acquired wondering, dazed expressions; some fainted. What was he saying to them? Midori wondered. Soon the nuns came for her. Filled with dread, she rose, swaying dizzily as if she were drunk. The nuns supported her as she wove to the altar. Mirrored lights and smoke spun around Midori; the chanting echoed through her. Heart racing, she stood before Anraku.
He seemed tall as a mountain, his robe bright as fire against the huge black lotus flower. Then he leaned down, and his hard, warm hands clasped Midori’s cheeks. Midori dared not look straight at him, lest he realize her deception, yet his gaze captured hers. His single eye was a beacon that illuminated every corner of her soul. Perceiving unfathomable dimensions behind the black patch, Midori whimpered in terror.
Then Anraku smiled, and the sense of deep connection with him soothed Midori. He said in a soft, hypnotic voice, “Love is the force that compels you. Unrequited love saddens your heart. For love you would walk through fire, travel to the end of the earth, wait for an eternity. Love brought you to me.”
How could he know? Midori thought wildly. Had he found out who she was? She longed to run away, but his firm grasp paralyzed her.
“Love is your path to enlightenment,” Anraku said. “It is a path through much darkness and trouble, but I shall guide you safely to your destiny. Follow me, and you shall win your heart’s desire.”
Wisdom illuminated his face. His power flowed from his hands into Midori like a charge of energy. As she stared at him, his image transformed. Suddenly it was Hirata holding her, smiling down at her. Joy exhilarated Midori. The high priest really could grant her anything she wanted, even Hirata! Then the vision dissolved, and Anraku released her.
Midori experienced a sensation of falling away from him at great speed as lights swirled around her. Abruptly, she found herself kneeling in the row of novice nuns. Breathless from shock, she tried to figure out what had happened, but rational thought eluded her. She knew the high priest was drawing her into his realm of enchantment and she must resist, yet she desperately wanted what he offered.
Novices continued going to and from the altar. Moans, sobs, and emotion agitated the group. Midori wondered what he’d promised everyone else. That he could know them all and give them everything made no sense; yet it made perfect sense. Midori felt her will weakening, her spirit cleaving to Anraku.
When the ritual ended, Anraku surveyed the novices with proud satisfaction. They raised rapt faces to him, and Midori knew they felt toward him the same fear, trust, and attraction as she did. Anraku said,
“Now you each know the path that is yours to follow. Before you embark on your journey, you must take the vows that are required from all members of the Black Lotus sect.” He lifted his hands. “Rise, my children.”
Midori clambered to her feet. Still dizzy, she wobbled. The unsteady bodies of Toshiko and other young women bumped her.
“Repeat after me,” Anraku said: “I pledge to embrace the Black Lotus faith and shun all other faiths forever.”
As an untrained newcomer Midori had no idea what comprised her new faith, but that seemed less important than saying whatever was necessary to earn the reward Anraku had promised. Her voice joined the loud, heartfelt chorus of repetitions.
“I pledge to forsake my family, friends, and the entire outside world,” Anraku said.
Even as visions of her sisters, Hirata, Reiko, Sano, and Masahiro flitted through Midori’s mind, she recited the oath.
Distorted perception magnified Anraku to colossal stature; his mirrored, glittering reflections filled the room with his presence. He intoned, “I pledge to dedicate my life to the service of the Black Lotus.”
The novices echoed him with increasing fervor. Midori felt her whole self blending into the group.
“I pledge to obey High Priest Anraku from now until forever,” Anraku said.
Shouting the vow, Midori could no longer distinguish her voice from the voices of her comrades. Her heart beat in rhythm with theirs; they breathed together like a single being.
“I pledge my loyalty to the Black Lotus sect,” Anraku said.
Hysteria transformed the people around Midori into a hot, dense mass of swaying bodies and reaching hands. “I pledge my loyalty to the Black Lotus sect!”
With stern gravity, Anraku said, “This is your last, most important pledge: If I should break my vows, may death strike me down and doom me to an eternity in hell.”
Thunderous response shook the room. Excited beyond rationality, Midori couldn’t bear for the ritual to stop. Body and spirit demanded something more, though she didn’t know what.
“Now we shall affirm your vows with the sacred initiation rite of the Black Lotus,” Anraku said.
Chanting priests formed ranks behind the rows of novices. Two nuns climbed steps to the altar. Anraku spread his arms, and they removed his brocade robe. He stood proudly nude and magnificent. Midori stared because she’d never seen a naked man before. The sight of Anraku’s manhood shamed and fascinated her.
“I welcome you as a follower of the true faith.” Anraku extended his open hands. Towering amid the candles and smoke, he looked like an idol come to life. “Share my power. Receive my blessing.”
The two nuns knelt on either side of Anraku. The priest behind Midori closed a hand over her shoulder. Twisting away, she looked around at him. He was a few years older than she, with a sly face. He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face the altar. Midori saw other priests holding the other novices. She recoiled from her priest, whimpering-this seemed wrong. Around her, novice nuns, wrapped in the arms of their priests, sighed with pleasure. The sensual atmosphere enfolded Midori. The priest’s cheek grazed hers. When she again turned to look at him, she saw that he was Hirata.
Midori exclaimed in bewilderment and joy. Hirata embraced her the way she’d imagined in her secret fantasies; his eyes smoldered with desire. Midori’s whole body tingled at his touch. Moaning, she leaned back against Hirata. Such a miracle to have him at last! Midori didn’t care how he’d gotten here, or who saw them.
Novices and priests arched, writhed, intertwined limbs, and thrust against one another. Groans and cries rose above the chanting that emanated from nowhere and everywhere. The nuns on the altar stroked Anraku’s organ; it swelled and lifted.