Koyasan by Darren Shan Read Free Book Online Page A

edge of the mud. Its head bobbed downwards, as if it was studying its trousers. Then it edged round the puddle, giving Koyasan the extra time she needed to spring to her feet and flee.
    But Koyasan didn’t move. She was staring hard at the spirit, brain whirring. She fixed on its beautiful clean clothes, remembering the way it had ducked and swerved to avoid any snags or stains. She was also thinking of her own fixation with looking neat, and how she would always stop playing and go home if her clothes suffered a rip or stain.
    “I created this spirit,” she whispered inside her head. “In a way, it’s part of me. It acts the same way I do.”
    The spirit slid round the edge of the muddy puddle and came straight at Koyasan. It gave the impression that it was smiling again. It thought it had her trapped, unaware that it was the other way round — Koyasan was the one pulling the strings.
    As the spirit reached for her with its misshapen, miscoloured hands, Koyasan pushed herself forward and snatched at one of the large fancy buttons on the creature’s silk shirt. With a quick motion, she ripped the button loose and dropped it. Then she tore off another, and another.
    The spirit couldn’t scream, since it didn’t have a mouth, but nevertheless it made a sort of squealing noise when Koyasan tore off three of its beautiful buttons. Losing all interest in the girl, the spirit bent and picked up the buttons with trembling hands.
    It stared at them mournfully, as though they were three of its fingers. Then, not even glancing at Koyasan, it swept away through the forest, heading for whatever nook or cranny it thought of as home, to look for fresh lengths of thread to stitch the buttons back on.
    Koyasan watched the spirit depart, grinning broadly. Inside her head, she sang softly, “Two down — one to go! This girl’s on a roll!”

PYRAMID
     
    FOR THREE OR four hours Koyasan wound her way through the graveyard forest, following one path after another, looking for spirits and Maiko’s soul. But apart from the skeletal mouse, which she caught sight of every now and then, she saw nothing except trees, old headstones and urns.
    She was gradually working her way higher up the hill, to the point at the top where none of the children ever went to play, not even the braver and more reckless sorts like Yamadasan. The trees grew at their thickest here, meaning it was always dark. Stronger spirits could roam freely on the hilltop even on the brightest day.
    Koyasan was cold and tired, weary of having to force her way through wiry bushes that seemed intent on not letting her pass. She filled with nerves every time she thought about Maiko and the dawn. How much longer was left of the night? Maybe an hour, not much more, possibly less. She’d felt invincible after overcoming the second spirit, eager to face the third and get this over with, certain she’d beat it as easily as the first two. But now she’d started to think she was on a doomed quest. The spirit would never show itself, Maiko’s soul would elude her and the sun would rise in a matter of minutes.
    “Admit defeat,” said the voice inside her head. “You’ve proved you’re not a coward. You can go home proudly. You did your best. Nobody will blame you.”
    For a moment, Koyasan wavered. She thought about her parents and how they’d welcome her back. Her friends and how amazed they’d be when she told them her story. She’d be a hero, regardless of whether she returned with Maiko’s soul or not.
    But Koyasan wasn’t interested in being a hero or impressing her friends. She had come here for one purpose only — to save her sister. A valiant failure would bring her no comfort whatsoever.
    “No,” she said silently to the inner voice. “I go back with Maiko’s soul or I don’t go back at all.”
    As though the forest had been waiting for her to make such a decision, the branches of the trees ahead of her swayed in a sudden sharp wind, and the bushes gave