"He's decided what's good for you, too, hasn't he? He thinks he's God. In that way he's no different from some of our western thinkers he seems to despise so much. Yes, he is wise. But when will the wise learn that wisdom doesn't give them the right to run the universe?"
"I do not understand," said Yuki, her eyes dark and wide.
He took both her shoulders, thrilling to touch them, and he crushed her body gently to his, feeling all the live shape of it in his own body. He found her lips. She trembled and he knew then that she had not been kissed before.
Sometime later he walked away, leaving her still there on the trail. He knew, and felt she too must know, that they would never come together again. Now he would return to the Tokyo Tribune and take up the career of Edward Blair again, and in a day or two the story of the magic monks of Hataka Shrine would brighten page two, and his photos would cause some comment, but everyone would be sure there was some natural explanation for it, and in a short time it would all be forgotten.
Blair would not forget. He would never forget the girl's golden skin, nor the warmth of her parted lips, and she would not forget him either, no matter what Naito taught. For this was something that Naito could not understand, neither in terms of science nor his own queer magic art.
Once more Blair looked back, turning and seeing the girl for the last time. She raised her arm to him, then dropped it again.
After that he saw her as a motionless stroke of gold against the darkening mountain.