Chapter Eighteen Kasu
Arun was already taking the elevator back down to the streets when Kasu scrambled after him. By the time the demons lifted the wooden box to the top of the scaffolding again, he had gone.
The ride down was just as agonizing as the ride up. She would have snapped at the pair of demons operating the pulley to go faster, but she feared they would just release the ropes and let her plunge to her death if she did.
The elevator landed with a thud. Kasu all but tumbled out just as Ruo teleported from the top of the theatre to her side.
“Ruo!”
“What did I miss?” The cat stared down at where Kasu lay sprawled across the street.
“Arun!”
“Oh, are we eating the human now? No, wait, did you eat him without me?”
“No!” she cried. Pushing herself to her feet, she started running in the direction she had seen Arun leave. “Arun! He ran off! I need to go after him!”
Ruo snorted. “That human is always running away! Might I suggest we chop off his legs?”
“We’re not doing that.” Kasu hurried through the streets, squeezing past demons and ghosts alike, ignoring the calls of vendors to look at their goblets (carved from the real skulls of one-horned children) and the sweet laughter of spider ladies bidding her to step into their parlour.
She knew something was wrong with Arun. He was upset.
About the ball of star silk, maybe. About the Pale Lady and her assertion that Sunan was a thief who had stolen a reincarnation wheel.
Kasu didn’t know how to comfort him, but she knew she couldn’t leave him alone, either.
Ghost City was dangerous whether you were having a bad day or not.
She found Arun by the edge of the river watching the sluggish flow of the water and the glow of the lanterns reflecting off the surface. Kasu slowed to a breathless stagger.
Threads of music floated along the bank.
The sound of string instruments wove its way between the distant hum of the theatre district and the faraway song of fishermen warbling familiar tunes.
Discordant voices faded in and out of earshot, but Arun remained standing at the water’s edge, his shoulders tense.
“I’m sorry about the star silk.” Kasu approached him as one might a scared animal.
Ruo scoffed. “Is that what the boy’s sulking about? I’ll get that wolf next time.”
“It’s not about the ball. It’s—” Arun stopped short, frowning. Kasu wondered if he even knew exactly why he was so upset.
“We still have a lead,” she said. “The Pale Lady said she would tell us more about Sunan in exchange for a few drops of Lady Camellia’s elixir.”
“The Pale Lady thinks my mother is a thief.”
“So?”
“You think she’s right.”
Kasu gave him a defensive look. Why did he care about what she thought? Would he rather she lied to him? Perhaps, as a prince, he was accustomed to being surrounded by nothing but brown-nosers and yes-men.
She swallowed back her words and felt them burn their way down her throat like lit matchsticks.
“What I or the Pale Lady think about your mother doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t stop me from helping you,” she said instead.
Calm. Rational. Just like the Heavenly Principles taught her.
“I know you want to believe your mother would never do something that goes against the will of the heavens, but people change. Maybe your mother changed too. Putting your blind faith in someone will only disappoint you.” She did not say it to hurt him.
It was simply the truth. One had to acknowledge the facts.
Arun snorted. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Kasu bristled. The matches tickled her gullet. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Arun pinned her with a look so withering Kasu flinched. She didn’t realize that she had retreated a step until the backs of her legs bumped into Ruo’s flank. The cat curled around her protectively.
Pitching his voice high in a mocking imitation, Arun said, “Oh, the heavens say I shouldn’t eat any food that has more than two pinches of salt! The heavens say this! The heavens say that! The heavens are never wrong!”
Kasu’s cheeks flushed. She could hardly hear anything over the rush of blood pounding in her ears.
Anger was a failing. If she was not careful, these tiny infractions would pile up. She could not – would not – allow herself to succumb to the sudden storm raging inside of her.
“I put my faith in the gods. It’s different.” She only just managed to control the venom in her voice.
“You’re right. It is different,” Arun ground out through clenched teeth.
“My mother raised me. I’ve known her all my life; I know what kind of person she is.
Of course I believe in her innocence. You’ve never even met these gods that you admire so much.
You think they’re special because they’re gods, but before they ascended they were just regular humans! ”
“They ascended to the heavens because they were special! Because they were good and noble and righteous. Why shouldn’t I trust them?”
The gods were beautiful. The gods were good and gracious. The gods would never find themselves trembling on the verge of tears, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Maintain your voice at an appropriate level at all times, and do not raise it more than is polite.
No, no, she was going about this all wrong.
The Celestial Empress has infinite patience for you. Therefore, you must show infinite patience when dealing with those who have wronged you.
Everything was falling apart. With every second that passed, she felt herself slip further and further from the heavenly ideal.
“Gods pluck humans out of the mortal realm to serve them,” Arun sneered. “If those humans do well or win some kind of fame, they’re promoted to godhood. In the end, most gods are just humans who have won a popularity contest.”
“You—!” Fury surged through Kasu’s chest.
Ruo lunged and sank their teeth into Arun’s ankle.
Kasu stared, aghast, as Arun yelled and tried to shake the cat off. He made for a pathetic picture, hopping mad and red with rage. Blood streamed down his shoe and he tripped and fell into the muddy river, the water soaking his trousers.
“Surprisingly salty.” Ruo licked their lips.
Arun stared at them with baffled offence.
The sight of blood was enough to shock Kasu back to her senses. “Ruo! We had a deal not to eat him!”
“But the human is making you sad, isn’t he? I can tell.” Ruo rubbed their head against Kasu’s side.
“He’s not making me sad. He’s just…” Frustrating. Annoying. Bullheaded. She wanted to prove that she could help him, that she was a different person from the greedy, foolish child who had once sold her soul for a jade pendant. She wanted him to listen to her.
“We can still eat him,” said Ruo. “It’s not too late.”
The smell of fresh bread. Burnt sugar. Kasu placed a hand against her stomach as if it was a beast she needed to hold back.
“We can’t do that, we both made promises.” Besides, if Kasu ate a living human she would definitely not be able to return to the mortal realm for the next millennium. Maybe ever. She was not about to throw away her best chance of gaining the heavens’ attention just because Arun smelled lovely.
“So? I’m a curse and you’re a ghost. We don’t need to keep promises.” Ruo licked the space between their claws.
“I do. There are twenty different Heavenly Principles about keeping your word.” Kasu glanced at Arun, who had managed to pick himself out of the river before any of the skeleton carp could bite him and was limping back to the bank. “I … apologize. Let’s … let’s start again, shall we?”
How had they even got into this argument? She couldn’t remember.
Arun’s only response was to pin her with a weary glare.
“I know you’re angry,” she said. “I know you’re desperate to find your mother.
I know you think she’s innocent and needs your rescue.
If you believe in her then that’s all that should matter.
I will help you find her, no matter what.
And once you’ve found her, I will ensure that you leave the under-realm safe and sound. I swear it.”
The smallest of smiles tugged at Arun’s lips, though his eyes seemed to resist. He looked more tired than ever, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight.
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter what anyone else believes. My brothers always said that when I get angry I lose my ability to think rationally.”
“So, in other words, I was right to bite you and I’m the hero.” Ruo purred.
“Sure, you’re a big hero.” Arun reached a hand out as if to pet the cat, then, thinking better of it, wiped his hand against his tunic. He turned to face Kasu, expression contrite. “We have a lead and we should follow it. Even if it turns out to be nonsense, at least we’ll know.”
Kasu could barely contain her relief. She was glad he was finally being sensible.
“In four days’ time, Lady Camellia will go to the mortal realm for the demon bazaar.
That’s where she sells everything that Camellia House has collected in trades over the past few weeks.
She’ll be gone all night. We’ll sneak into her chambers while she’s away, find this elixir and deliver a few drops of it to the Pale Lady. ”
“The bazaar?”
“It’s a black market held in the mortal realm where demons disguised as humans sell things like bad-luck charms or the venom of a three-headed snake. The location changes every month.”
The humans who visited were often criminals or scholars of the dark arts – those looking for illegal solutions to their problems instead of turning to the Heavenly Principles.
“I know what it is,” said Arun. “I visited it once, actually. To find a map that would lead me here, to the under-realm. I just— It’s weird to think I might have seen Lady Camellia there.”
“Maybe you did. She would have been disguised as…”
An old woman with a voice like the rustle of dead leaves.
“And when you die,” she said, “your soul will belong to me.”
“Kasu?”
Kasu jumped. She blinked until the memory disappeared from her mind, banished like winter frost before the morning sun. “It’s nothing. You’ll have to describe the bazaar to me sometime. I’ve always wondered what it’s like.” She forced the corners of her mouth into a smile.
Arun nodded as if he did not trust his voice. He looked down at his ankle again. The bleeding had already stopped, leaving two bold red marks on his skin.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“It’s fine. I’m just exhausted. Let’s go back and sleep.”
While Arun limped back to the street, Kasu and Ruo took their time climbing the riverbank. Kasu’s shoulders slumped. A bone-deep exhaustion dragged at her steps. Arun was right; it was time to sleep.
“You know what your problem is?” Ruo said as they observed her fatigue. “You take living too seriously.”
“I’m dead,” said Kasu.
“Exactly.”