Chapter Thirty-One Arun
All things considered, dying was fairly painless. Perhaps it was because he was still working off the numbing effects of the incense, but Arun felt strangely good for someone who had just died.
That was, until Kasu turned on him.
“You—! I can’t believe you! Of all the irresponsible, idiotic things you could have possibly done—!” Her voice was like nails raking against his eardrums.
“Leave it. Kasu, let’s just leave it for now.” Arun strode past her, his legs stiff like the wooden toy soldiers he used to play with as a child.
Ruo made a face as they circled him. “The human no longer smells delicious. Smells like a regular dirty old ghost. Probably tastes terrible too.”
Kasu glared at Arun. “I bet the Sage is happy. Not only did he retrieve one of his aura masks, but he’ll be able to make some incredible creations with your mortality. And what did we get in return?”
“We ensured your safety.”
“It was a bad trade.”
“The mask is back where it belongs now. Besides, what do your beloved Heavenly Principles say about stealing?” Arun asked pointedly.
“If it’s in service of a greater good then it’s fine.”
“And I’m that greater good?”
Something about the way Kasu looked at him made Arun’s thoughts stutter. He had never been anyone’s priority before – even his own mother had abandoned him for the heavens. Why did Kasu care so much? Because he was a human? Because he was a prince? What had he ever done to deserve her concern?
His gaze drifted to the carnage the Sage had left behind. He still had the iron key Ruo had pilfered from the body of one of the servants.
One by one, Arun began unlocking the remaining cages. The ghosts and demons were still too woozy to move, but he was sure that once they came to their senses they would flee the building.
“Come on,” Kasu said. “We need to leave before Lord Cobalt finds out what happened.”
Arun paused. His sword was missing. Their captors had not brought it with them when they had transported Kasu and him here – wherever “here” was.
His nails bit into the palms of his hands hard enough to bleed.
His brothers had given him that sword on the day of his coming-of-age ceremony.
Besides the ball of star silk, it was the only thing he had brought with him when he left the palace.
Yet a cursory glance across the room revealed nothing except cages, and there was no time to search for it. The longer they lingered here, the greater the chance Lord Cobalt would return. He couldn’t endanger Kasu just because he had lost his sword.
“What’s wrong?” Kasu asked.
Swallowing back his regrets, Arun shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
Kasu’s safety was more important. He had just given up his mortality for her. He’d gladly give up a thousand swords too.
Arun had feared their captors might have brought them somewhere far from the meat market, but they were only a few streets away from the auction house.
He charged through the crowd, pulling Kasu after him as he pushed his way towards quieter streets, avoiding the main roads of the meat market and the webbed alleyways where spider demons waited for hapless ghosts to walk into their traps.
“Why would you sacrifice your mortality like that?” Kasu quivered.
They stopped in the middle of an empty alleyway. Tattered lanterns dangled overhead from broken buildings.
“You know why.”
“Well, I hate it!” she snapped and brushed away her furious tears. “Your mortality isn’t something you should throw away for no reason!”
“No reason? That demon was going to kill you!” How could Kasu speak as if she was worthless? Didn’t she know that he owed her so much more than just his mortality? The thought was like the string of a zither incorrectly strung; each time it was plucked, it left a discordant feeling in his chest.
“Is it my fault? For bringing the Sage?” Ruo crawled to Kasu’s side, tails low.
“No, you did what you thought was best. I’m not angry at you, Ruo.” Kasu leaned down to scratch behind Ruo’s ear.
“You shouldn’t be angry at me, either. I made my choice of my own free will,” said Arun tightly.
“You saved me when I first came to Ghost City. If I was back home, I could provide you with a seven-course feast. I could have the finest silk dress commissioned for you, and drape you in gold and pearls! Here, I can’t even give you a cup of tea.
No, worse – I have to rely on your money to feed myself.
I eat up your time when we run around the city. I owe you everything.”
“I wish you hadn’t done it,” she whispered.
Arun had never met someone quite as stubborn – not in the mortal world or the under-realm. “Would you have rather died? If he killed you, it would be a forever death. Whatever happened to wanting to be reborn? What happened to your dreams?”
“But your mortality! Your life! As long as you’re alive, you get to go back. You get to sit in the sun and smell the fresh grass. I never had that, not even when I was alive. I had no time to do anything except work. I had nothing to eat! You had everything and yet you threw it all away!”
“Threw what away? Hollow riches? An empty palace where no one cared about me?” He had only wanted one thing: not to be abandoned by the people he loved.
How could he make her understand how achingly lonely he had been?
What did it matter if he never again felt the warmth of the sun, or tasted the sweet, spicy dance of chilli oil and lime?
Who cared about riches or a royal title?
Perhaps Kasu might think him na?ve – a spoiled prince who overestimated his capacity to endure hardship – but he had been away from the royal residence for months before finding a way into the under-realm, and he knew, without a doubt, that he could live anywhere as long as he wasn’t alone.
As long as someone was beside him.
“But…” Kasu protested. “There’s nothing for you down here.”
Her words were like a knife through his heart. Arun had not expected them to cut so deep.
There’s you. He wanted to say. There’s still you.
Maybe Kasu didn’t see things that way. Perhaps she didn’t want him around any more now that she had failed to protect his life.
Something unpleasant squirmed in the pit of his stomach. That was his flaw, wasn’t it? He always loved people just a tiny bit more than they loved him.
“There’s nothing for me in the mortal realm either.
My father doesn’t care, my brothers are gone and my mother is dead!
Everyone leaves. You heard what Lord Cobalt said.
My mother was tortured and killed, and her body and soul were used as ingredients for some damned potion!
When I find Lady Camellia, I’ll kill her. Lord Cobalt too.”
All this time he had been searching for her, it had already been too late.
He truly was a worthless son.
If Arun thought about it too much, something inside him would break. His mother, gone. His mother, who would read him bedtime stories about brave young heroes. Who had shielded him from his father’s wrath. Who had told him she would never leave his side.
Liar.
Kasu’s brow creased. “Lord Cobalt … said that Lady Camellia had asked him to catch Sunan. But how did Lady Camellia know about her in the first place?”
Arun stopped short. Kasu was right; how had Lady Camellia known about his mother?
“That’s not all,” she said. “Do you remember when the Pale Lady told us that Sunan – that your mother – already had an aura mask? Well, where did she get it from? And, if she was wearing one at the time, how did Lord Cobalt know who to kidnap? With the mask, your mother should have looked like your average, ordinary ghost.”
Yes, that was right. Kasu was always right when it came to the small details.
Arun’s thoughts were racing. The fire in his chest burned anew, hungering for answers, for justice.
He wished the Sage was still around so he could ask the demon about all the people he had sold an aura mask to, but, even after Arun had given away his mortality, he had a feeling the demon would be reluctant to speak with them.
If not the Sage of a Thousand Faces, who else could they talk to?
“We should visit the Pale Lady.” Kasu appeared to be deep in thought.
“Again?”
“I have more questions.”
Arun sighed. He really didn’t want to see the Pale Lady again. He’d had enough of speaking with demon lords to last a lifetime – or a death.