Chapter Thirty-Eight Arun
For a MOMENT, Arun wondered if he was dreaming.
The actors chosen to play General Shusa were always tall and thin – weedy, some would say – and portrayed him as a buffoon.
The god standing in front of him was anything but.
General Shusa was broad and muscular, a tall, imposing figure dressed in a dark cloak and red robes.
Armour made of laced leather panels covered his front and back.
Just like in the shows, the side of his helmet bore an impressive set of phoenix wings.
The two guards peered around the general’s broad shoulders. Arun did not recognize them – probably minor officials recently plucked from the mortal world to serve in the heavens.
“Ghosts!” one of the guards said. “Ghosts and…”
He faltered as his gaze landed on Ruo. The cat hissed, then grinned when the men flinched.
“Back, fiend! Return to the under-realm!”
If only they could. Arun would love to be back in the under-realm right now.
“No, just kill them!” the other guard argued.
At this suggestion, Ruo pounced at the man, striking his cheek. The guard gave a cry of pain as he staggered back, drawing the sword at his waist.
Arun panicked. The heavens were harsh and unforgiving. They would not hesitate to kill a curse.
“General Shusa!” he shouted before the guards could lunge for Ruo.
“You are General Shusa, aren’t you? Guardian god of the south?
Please, we ended up here in the mortal realm after fighting a demon called Lady Camellia.
We – we have the reincarnation wheel. We’ll give it back, but…
” He glanced at Kasu. “Please help her. I don’t care what happens to me, but you have to help her! ”
The god raised his hands in a placating gesture. Stepping past a hissing Ruo, he crouched in front of them both.
“Peace,” he murmured as he held a hand to each of their foreheads.
Arun tried to avoid the god’s touch, but General Shusa’s fingers brushed against his skin all the same.
The next thing he knew, a slow, cooling flow of qi filtered through his body.
Like a river through the desert, it flooded his parched bones, filling him with renewed strength.
When Arun drew his next breath, his lungs did not ache.
His body was no longer disappearing. He sat up, feeling more energized than ever, and glanced at Kasu.
They stared at one another. Mirrors of each other’s shock and relief.
General Shusa stood back up and offered Kasu a hand. She took it, dazed, and Arun had to bite his tongue. He could not forget that the general had thrown his mother out of the heavens.
He wondered if Shusa remembered Sunan at all.
“Now, tell me what has happened,” the general ordered.
Arun didn’t trust himself to speak without saying something that would offend the god.
In stops and starts, Kasu explained everything: from meeting Arun and the Pale Lady to the investigation that took them to Lord Cobalt’s meat auction.
She told General Shusa that Lord Cobalt had sold Sunan to Lady Camellia and described the elixir the demon had made from Sunan’s blood. From her soul. From her suffering.
Hearing everything laid out in such a straightforward manner was a small torture.
Each part of the story was a knife through Arun’s gut.
Almost all of the demon lords had had a hand in his mother’s death.
They all deserved to be punished; death had been too good for them, and Lord Cobalt was still alive somewhere, the snivelling weasel.
“Lady Camellia is dead?” General Shusa whispered.
Kasu nodded. Arun could hardly believe it himself.
A demon lord, dead by their – by his – hands.
If this had been one of his mother’s stories, they would return home to a cheering crowd and be rewarded with riches and praise.
Instead, they were here, in some dark cave, being stared at as if they were no better than criminals.
“I see.” General Shusa’s expression turned contemplative.
“I am sure Sunan took the wheel in hopes of making money off the demons and ghosts who would pay her to be reborn. She must have believed she had an ally in the Pale Lady – in someone else who abandoned the heavens – but see how her plans backfired? She met a gruesome end. One can never trust a demon.”
Arun drew a sharp breath. Despite everyone’s claims to the contrary, he had always had faith in his mother’s innocence. He knew her better than anyone, knew that she would never steal a wheel for her own personal gain.
Yet his confidence had slowly been chipped away. Everyone from the Pale Lady to General Shusa claimed his mother was a thief. It felt like the whole world was telling him the sky was red instead of blue.
A suffocating grief crawled up his throat. Now, he would never be able to ask his mother for her side of the story. He would never see her again. The enormity of it was only just starting to sink in.
Thief. Who was he even grieving for anyway? Had he really known his mother at all? Or was his fracturing faith in her a sign that he was a bad son?
“And you” – General Shusa turned to Arun – “you are Sunan’s child?” If he felt any awkwardness talking to the son of the woman he had banished, he did not let it show.
“Arun, formerly the third prince of the Southern Kingdom of Bakrute.” Arun bowed just low enough to be considered polite.
“I heard that the youngest son went missing. Your father was most distraught over your disappearance.”
“I doubt that,” he muttered. His father had always been too busy feasting and berating the local nobles to bother with any of his sons. Arun had no reason to believe he would change now.
General Shusa placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. In a remarkable show of restraint, Arun did not shrug him off.
“Was it difficult?” He tried not to sound bitter. “Kicking my mother out of the heavens.”
General Shusa’s eyes narrowed. Arun had wanted to unsettle him by asking about Sunan, but instead he was the uneasy one. The general’s gaze was stifling. Arun felt the weight of Shusa’s attention bear down upon him like a boulder.
“By the time we discovered that your mother had stolen the wheel, she had already left, and it was clear she would not be coming back. Of course the heavens had to give some kind of response. Her exile was mostly symbolic,” Shusa replied slowly, calmly, as if dealing with a child on the verge of a tantrum.
“Why didn’t you send someone after her? The reincarnation wheel is important, isn’t it?” His nails bit into the palms of his hands.
“We tried, but our attempts to find her were unsuccessful,” said General Shusa coolly. “To answer your first question, yes it was hard. Sunan was brilliant. It was a shame to lose her.”
Anger was a lit match, sparking a wildfire. Shame. The word was kindling to the flames. Shame. It echoed inside of him. His lungs heaved. His heart hammered. For a moment, there was nothing Arun wanted more than to commit an act of incredible violence.
But Kasu was staring at him as if she was afraid of what he would do next. He didn’t want her to see him like this – he didn’t want her to know about the ugly, awful part of him that still longed for vengeance.
“You say you have the reincarnation wheel,” General Shusa continued.
Kasu nodded and looked at Arun, who slipped the ring from his finger and placed it in the middle of General Shusa’s outstretched palm.
The god turned the ring over in his hand. There was relief in his expression, tempered by something Arun could not parse. He nodded to his men. “We’re done here.”
“You are?” Kasu interjected. “But… But with both Lady Camellia and the Pale Lady dead there will be a power imbalance in the under-realm. Lord Onyx is missing too. Without the other demon lords, that leaves Lord Cobalt to reign supreme. Do you know what he’s like?
It’s going to be chaos. Could you not do something to help the people of the city? ”
General Shusa shook his head. “Ghosts are humans who have fallen out of the cycle of souls. They must live with the dangers of the under-realm, just as they must live with the consequences of their own actions.”
Arun’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “We’re ghosts too, you know.”
“Oh, I mean no offence, I assure you.” General Shusa smiled. “But you cannot deny the facts.”
Arun struggled to keep his mouth shut. Of course the heavens didn’t care what happened to Ghost City. Anyone who fell out of the cycle of souls was no longer their problem. Why couldn’t Kasu see how self-centred and self-righteous they were?
The general pocketed the ring. “I would like to commend you for your bravery and your dedication to justice. One of you may be a curse and the other two ghosts, but I will see to it that you are rewarded.”
Upon his signal, the guards used their spears to etch a symbol into the ground. A circle, full of strange sigils Arun had never seen before. When the guards stood opposite one another and placed their hands together in prayer, the symbols began to glow.
“Come with me.” General Shusa extended a hand to Kasu.
Arun bristled.
“I don’t trust this broad man! He smells odd and he speaks too softly!” Ruo protested. Arun was glad that at least someone agreed with him.
A mortified Kasu shushed them. Ruo fell back into querulous silence.
“Where are you taking us?” Arun demanded.
“To the heavens, of course,” General Shusa replied calmly. “Fear not. Though ghosts you may be, you will all be treated with courtesy.”
Arun’s face reddened. “That’s—”
“Thank you for your generosity.” Kasu cut him off. She shot him a withering glare. “We would be honoured to accompany you back to the heavens.”
Arun opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything Kasu stepped towards the glowing circle and let it pull her through.