Chapter 40 Zizi
Zizi
The red moon followed Zizi like a malevolent eye as he sprinted. Shadows flitted among the trees and crept up walls, and the
night whispered secrets. He was close to the last flight of steps leading to the palace of the Elders when he skidded to a
halt.
Two men in suits were making their way down the steps.
“Oxie and Horsie, just the jackasses I was hoping to meet,” Zizi said, taking a moment to catch his breath.
“G-good evening, Your Majesty.” Horse-Face looked down. His compatriot seemed equally jumpy. The Guardians were undoubtedly
dismayed at this chance encounter with the Fourth King.
Zizi smiled dangerously. “You trashed my private chambers.”
Staring at his well-polished shoes, Horse-Face stammered, “J-just following orders, Your Majesty.”
“Following orders? The way you followed orders when you locked me up in the Obsidian Cavern and left me to rot? I thought
we were friends. Drinking buddies.”
“To be fair, Your Majesty,” Horse-Face said feebly, “that was a long, long, long time ago.”
“We only drank together once,” Ox-Head chipped in with his booming voice. “And you had juice. Not sure if that counts.”
The fools had no idea Zizi was mocking them. “I guess I only have myself to blame for being so sentimental.” His expression
hardened. “Where is my guest?”
“It was your Head Reaper who caused the ruckus,” Ox-Head blurted.
“We were only doing our job. Your, uh, guest was trespassing, and according to the rules, we had to track her down. All we needed was her cooperation to come with us. It wasn’t our fault that she—” Horse-Face smacked him so hard in the chest that he started coughing.
“It wasn’t your fault that she what?” The air in the palace courtyard grew heavy with Zizi’s wrath.
“Nothing, Your Majesty,” Ox-Head said hastily, hands raised in surrender. “We didn’t do anything to her, I swear. It wasn’t
us, it was—”
Horse-Face clamped his hand over Ox-Head’s mouth. “Let’s not get into trouble with them,” he hissed.
“You would rather be in trouble with me?” Blue fire burst from Zizi’s hands.
Shrieking, Horse-Face grabbed his comrade, and they stumbled back against the steps. They were the formidable Guardians of
Hell, two of the most powerful beings in the underworld. But no one wanted to come to blows with a King, let alone a furious
one.
Dulcet tones rang out across the courtyard, and the three of them stilled.
“There is no need to resort to violence.” The voice had come from within the palace, but it filled the area.
Zizi subdued his flames. “I seek an audience, Empress-Mother.”
The wind picked up, spinning the dead leaves and dust on the ground. He blinked and found himself standing in the grand hall
inside the palace.
The Elder Gods were seated at their mahjong table as usual.
“Greetings.” Zizi didn’t bow. Instead, he lowered his head to the two seemingly empty seats. He felt a gentle flutter of air
in response. He thought he could see two faint outlines dotted with shimmering motes, but it seemed the Celestials had chosen
to remain hidden from him. He shrugged away his disappointment.
Emperor-Father raised a bushy eyebrow. “Back so soon?”
“You know exactly why I’m here,” Zizi said coldly. “Where is Rui?”
“Don’t worry, the girl is still alive.” Emperor-Father tossed a tile onto the table. It sounded like a warning, for now.
Zizi flicked his wrist.
One of the silk paintings on the wall caught fire, the canvas burning so quickly it was reduced to smoke and ash in seconds.
A sinister pall fell, and the walls seemed to press in as the spiritual pressure in the room grew. Zizi anchored himself,
bracing for impact. A mortal couldn’t end his existence, but a god might. Going up against the Elders was suicidal at best,
but he would do it again and again if it meant he could save Rui.
Seconds passed, but there was no retaliation for his insolence. Empress-Mother drew another tile and the game went on.
Frustrated by the nonreaction, Zizi pointed his flames at the mahjong table. “Where is she? I’m not asking a third time.”
Empress-Mother tutted. “Tantrums and threats will get you nowhere, my dear boy. But if you insist.”
Her eyes turned pitch-black for a few seconds. A silver globe appeared and hovered next to her. Through the globe, Zizi saw
a small figure stumbling through a misty forest.
Rui.
His rage ignited. “How could you send her to the Forest of Remembrance?”
“The realm of the dead sent her there,” Empress-Mother corrected him. “Lin Ru Yi dared to break its rules. Her soul ventured
into the underworld, impersonated an attendant, and fought against the Guardians while resisting arrest. Such a punishment
is not unusual.”
Zizi spun on his heel toward the exit.
“Do we have to remind you that you cannot bring her out yourself?” Empress-Mother called. “A soul can only leave the Forest
by their own will.”
Cursing all the realms, Zizi turned back to the silver globe. Sick to his stomach with worry, he watched helplessly as Rui
pushed farther into the trees.
The Forest of Remembrance was a macabre dreamworld that fed on grief, a liminal space that wasn’t under the Kings’ jurisdiction. In some ways, it was similar to the Nothing. But a soul entering the Nothing would have already ended its mortal journey, and its body was, definitively, dead.
The souls in the Forest of Remembrance belonged to the living.
When mortals dreamed, their souls traveled from their bodies and their connection to the realm weakened. If a soul traveled
too far, they would find themselves in the Forest, trapped in its twisted dreamscape as it slowly leached their life essence.
There was no telling how long each soul would take to escape, and it was an iron-clad rule that once a soul entered, they
would have to weather its schemes alone.
Rui had a deep grief in her soul. . . . Don’t lose faith in her. Zizi’s hands clenched by his sides. Rui had proven herself an extraordinary person who was brave and strong despite her fears.
His job was to prepare for what came next when she made it out. He’d told her he would find the rogue talisman, and he planned to keep his word, which meant he needed to
pay his own passage to the mortal realm.
“I want to make a deal,” he said.
The air around the Celestials danced with anticipation.
Emperor-Father quirked his head. “We are listening.”
“You must know about the errant talisman in the mortal realm,” Zizi said. “It needs to be destroyed.”
“Ah yes, the one that contains power from a relic. It was foolish of Ten to have made that deal with the Hybrids,” Empress-Mother
chided, “and even stupider of you to yield to his demands.”
Zizi bristled. “I had no choice.”
“Of course you had a choice. You were thinking like a human, and that was the problem. But I suppose that unfortunate mess
you and Ten made must be cleaned up eventually.”
“Well, I’m volunteering to be your mess cleaner,” Zizi said through gritted teeth. He sensed that the Elders were drawing
this out, keeping him trapped in their endless web of words. But he had to tread carefully and make the right moves to get
what he needed.
“The relic that was used to create the spell is gone, and you cannot open your vault in your current state,” Emperor-Father said dismissively.
He’d clearly lost interest in the conversation.
“And seeing how weak you are, I doubt you would even be able to use a relic without severe consequences. There is nothing you can do.”
“Pinpointing the location of the talisman would be enough for the Exorcists,” Zizi said evenly. “I will find a way, but I
have to be in the mortal realm. That’s the deal. Let me go back with Rui to fix things. We both get safe passage. And I will return once
my task is done.”
Emperor-Father sniffed scornfully. “Do you believe the mortal girl will emerge from the Forest with a sound enough mind that
returning her soul to the realm of the living would be possible?”
“Yes.”
“I applaud your faith in her. But I’m afraid we have no interest in a deal. Low stakes do not make for enticing wagers.”
Zizi was tempted to spit in his face. The Elders didn’t seem to care about the mortal realm. Just like how they didn’t care
about the Nothing invading the Courts. Nikai had told him how they’d remained uninvolved as souls were lost and the underworld
crumbled. The only thing they paid attention to was that blasted mahjong game.
His fury was restrained by a sudden vise grip around his skull. Light was a blade to his sight, the clacking of mahjong tiles
a beating drum behind his eyes. Images were flickering in his head again, and for a surreal moment, it felt as if he was sitting
at the table next to the immortals.
Let’s play a game, someone whispered.
In his mind’s eye, the tiles moved in front of him from his hand to the table and back, displaying a series of characters
carved into the ivory.
You will remember nothing of this.
Zizi sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. His head cleared, and the pain dissolved. He had no doubt that those were his lost memories from the time when he was Four. Memories that had been stolen away. Did that mean he had once sat at the very
table he was looking at now?
“Let’s make the stakes enticing, then,” he said. “Instead of a deal, give me a seat at your table.”
The mood in the room changed.
The faint outlines of the Celestials glimmered in excitement, and Emperor-Father regarded him with renewed interest.
“You wish to participate in our game?” Empress-Mother asked, carefully enunciating each word.
“Yes.” The word landed like a verdict.
One Celestial shimmered immediately, and Empress-Mother smiled as if she agreed with something they had communicated. “Indeed,
that would be fun. Perhaps he will get twice lucky at our table,” she murmured.
Twice lucky? Was that confirmation that he had been a player before?
Emperor-Father’s eyes darted to the Celestial next to him, as if they had spoken too. “It is true that while a soul is of
little value to us, Lin Ru Yi has been touched by both the darkness and the light, which makes her an unusual wager. It would
be interesting to see how the life of such a soul unfolds, should she survive.”
Zizi snapped at him. “What do you mean she’s been touched by the darkness and the light?”
“We have decided to welcome you to our table,” Empress-Mother announced, ignoring his question.
The Celestial next to her offered their seat to Zizi. Worried the gods might change their minds, he sat down immediately.
Cold metal fused around his neck, legs, and back, shocking him with a painful zap.
“What’s this?” he demanded, struggling against his restraints. Only his hands and arms could move freely.
“Our house, our rules,” Empress-Mother said crisply.
“And the rules of our table are simple: no bonus tiles and no cheating. Should you win, you are entitled to one question and one request. That is all.” She paused, casting him a shadowed look.
“If you lose, Lin Ru Yi’s soul will be banished to the Nothing for eternity. ”
“I did not agree to that! I do not agree to that.” Things had gone horribly wrong. He’d made a heinous mistake. “I won’t gamble with her life.”
Emperor-Father waved an impatient hand. “You have sat down at our table. Whether you like it or not, the only way out is to
play.”
Grunting with effort, Zizi tried to gather his power, only to discover he couldn’t. His restraints were doing more than holding
him in place.
“You tricked me,” he accused.
Empress-Mother laughed. “Oh, darling, that is what you said the first time.”