Chapter Four Arun
Ever since he had left the royal palace, Arun had been running.
Low-hanging branches snatched at his clothes.
Strange noises drowned out the sound of his own footsteps and the pounding of his heart.
The forest was … whispering. Groaning. Cackling.
Hissing at him as he sprinted beneath the crimson leaves.
If he looked closely, he could see faces protruding from the tree trunks. Watching him through hollow eyes.
“Blood, fresh blooooood,” they groaned. Or perhaps that was merely the sound of the wind through the leaves.
A shadow moved in the corner of his vision.
At first, he wasn’t sure if it was just the swaying branches or if something was pursuing him.
Arun quickened his pace, but that only made things worse.
The shadow darted from side to side, almost too quick to catch.
One moment it was on his left, the next, it was to his right.
Whatever it was, it was close and getting closer.
Digging his heels into the soil, he came to a stop in front of a large, flat boulder and drew his sword.
“I know you’re following me! Show yourself!” He tried to sound steadier than he felt. Like a hero in a storybook about to battle against the forces of evil.
“A human in the under-realm!” A voice emerged from the darkness. It was soft and sensuous and giddy with excitement. “A human here! In Ghost City!”
“Who are you?” Arun shouted. “Show yourself!”
The thing obliged.
A scream escaped Arun’s lips as it lunged at him faster than he had expected.
One second it was a few feet away, the next it was right in front of his face.
Arun barely managed to raise his sword in time to deflect its sharp claws.
The thing pounced again, forcing him to retreat to the top of the boulder.
“There’s no escaping from me now, meat.” It paced around him like a shark circling its prey.
The creature was some sort of monstrous cat, much larger than the ones that lived in the palace kitchens.
It was about the size of a small pony, or perhaps a large wolf.
Though its fur could roughly be described as black, it was more accurate to say that its body was made of a darkness that was sometimes solid and other times not.
It sported a pair of tails that coiled around each other like snakes, and its glowing eyes were dotted with bright white pupils and golden irises that reminded Arun of the shape of frogspawn.
Demon, his heart thundered.
As Arun readied himself for another blow, the girl from the dormitory burst into the clearing.
“Ruo!” She stopped short at the sight of them. They must have seemed an odd pair indeed: Arun standing atop the boulder with his sword raised like a statue on a podium, and the cat-creature below him gnashing its teeth. “What are you doing here?”
The corners of the cat’s mouth curved into an all too human grin.
“Kasu! Good timing! Help me kill this human and I’ll give you one of his fingers!”
“Ruo!”
“All right, all right! You can have a whole hand, five fingers and all!”
“Let him go!”
“An arm, then!”
“We’re not eating the human!”
Because she planned on marinating him in his own blood first?
Arun knew better than to trust anybody from the under-realm, especially someone who looked so innocent and unthreatening.
Who knew if that was even her real face?
Her real voice? Arun had heard that some ghosts and demons could shapeshift to take on appearances that people found the most attractive in order to trick them.
He glanced at the gentle slope of the girl’s nose, the sharp corners of her eyes and the curve of her mouth before quickly looking away.
That was a demon’s trap if ever he saw one.
Well, he wasn’t about to wait around while they negotiated over who got which body part. Reaching into his pocket, Arun’s fingers curled around the ball of star silk he had brought with him.
He hesitated. His mother had given him the silken ball – a gift bestowed by a messenger from the heavens on the day she left to serve the gods.
It had been meant for her, but his mother had insisted that Arun hold onto it instead.
Some said that the fabric was made of actual starlight woven by the moon goddess herself.
The threads shone with a comforting luminescence that made for a helpful source of light in the darkness of the under-realm.
As much as it pained Arun to part with his mother’s gift, he had come here for a reason. Now was not the time to cling to mementos like a spoilt child.
The cat and the girl were still bickering when he lobbed the ball of silk over their heads. As if compelled by some supernatural force, the cat raced after the ball, pouncing and sinking its fangs into the silk. While the beast was distracted, Arun jumped from the rock and swung his blade at it.
“Stop, both of you!” The girl threw herself between them just as the cat dodged out of the way.
Arun should have attacked her too. He should have let his sword cleave through her body the way the heroes in legends cut down the demons that stood in their way.
He should have – yet something stayed his hand.
“Don’t mind Ruo. They don’t really want to hurt you,” the girl assured him.
A claim that was immediately undermined by the cat’s disgruntled: “Yes, I do.” The girl turned her back to Arun, unaware of how close he had come to cutting her in two.
“Ruo, if you don’t eat the human, I’ll buy you all the snacks you want from the meat market. ”
“Eyeballs?” The cat perked up.
“As many eyeballs as you want. Sure, the human is delicious, but once you’ve eaten him, that’s it. You’ll only get one meal out of him at best. If you spare him, I’ll feed you for a whole year.”
Arun watched as the cat’s tails twitched with interest.
“I want the ball too.”
“Don’t be greedy, Ruo.”
“Done.” Arun lowered his sword. If you wanted something done, sometimes you had to grease a few palms. Just like in his father’s court.
The cat purred with pleasure. “Very well! You have a deal – naps, snacks and balls of silk for life!”
That had very much not been the deal, but Arun thought it better not to argue. He just wanted to leave while he still had all his limbs intact.
But it seemed neither the girl nor the monstrous cat was done with Arun quite yet.
“Well,” the girl said as her demonic companion continued to stare at Arun with an unnerving grin. “Why don’t you tell me how you managed to get into Ghost City?”
“None of your business.”
The girl narrowed her eyes. “But why would you want to come to the under-realm? Every ghost and demon who lays eyes on you will try to rip out your guts and suck the marrow from your bones!”
Arun knew that. It wasn’t like he had entered the under-realm expecting flowers and rainbows.
Finding his way down here had been difficult enough.
He thought with a grimace of the money he’d spent paying shady men to show him the way into the demon bazaar, so that he could purchase a map of the so-called “Mouths of Hell”.
Not to mention the time wasted investigating which of these mouths were nothing more than eerie caves that led nowhere and which were genuine tunnels to the under-realm.
The girl stared at him, still waiting for an answer.
“I came here to find my mother. I’m not going back without her.” He would give the girl that much.
To his surprise, the girl’s expression softened. Arun had the uncomfortable feeling he was being pitied.
Demons and ghosts will take different forms to trick you, he had to remind himself.
“I understand how you must feel, but you really should let the dead be—”
“She’s not dead!” Arun snapped. The sound of his pounding blood roared through his ears.
His hand trembled against the hilt of his sword.
She isn’t dead. She can’t be. It’s impossible.
“My mother didn’t die, and she certainly isn’t a ghost or a demon!
She was a good woman and a devoted follower of the Heavenly Principles.
A year ago, one of the guardian gods called on her to work for him as a scribe.
She left. Then, not long after, the heavens sent us word that she had been kicked out – banished from the heavenly realm – though no one would tell us why.
We thought she might return to us…” To her home.
To her family. To him. “But she never did. I looked everywhere for her, and now my search has brought me here, to Ghost City.”
His mother had always taught him to trust the will of the heavens.
The royal monks who pottered around the palace every day said that a good ruler obeyed the gods.
The heavens were virtuous. The heavens were just. The heavens protected them from the demons and ghosts that sometimes crawled out from the under-realm to terrorize the people of the mortal world.
Yet what justice was there in taking his mother?
Didn’t the gods have servants enough? What virtue was there in refusing to answer his prayers for information?
He’d visited every temple in the country to beg the gods for answers and been met with nothing but silence.
He had travelled to the dirtiest, seediest inns – bought and bribed his way in and out of trouble – all for a drop of information.
He had spoken to fortune tellers and sorcerers and self-proclaimed shamans, and learned only one thing: his mother was not in the mortal realm.
That was when his search had turned to a way into the under-realm. If his mother had been kicked out of the heavens and she wasn’t in the world of humans, this was the only place she could be. Now he was here, and it was up to him to find her.
To bring her back home.
With his hand on the pommel of his sword, he threw out his chest and shouted at the top of his voice.
“My name is Arun, third prince of the Southern Kingdom of Bakrute!”
The girl looked around in panic, as if she thought a whole horde of demons might descend upon them at any moment, but Arun didn’t care who noticed. This was a declaration. It was a promise.
“I will not leave the under-realm until I find my mother.”
He would save her. Even if he had to tear down all of heaven and hell to do it.