Chapter 23 Yue
How is it that the gods seem less trustworthy than the demon in my company?
I thought the star gods were all brothers,” Wen says. “Like in the stories.”
Kelai presses her lips into a thin line.
“Disappointing, but unsurprising. It wouldn’t be the first time your kind has written a woman out of her own story.
” She turns, silent as an owl gliding upon spread wings.
The goddess enters the kitchen, wagging a single finger over her shoulder to beckon us follow.
Whatever darkness once marred her brow disappears and is replaced with a grin. “Come along!” she all but sings.
The moment I step inside, my mouth waters uncontrollably.
Food. Mountains upon mountains of food.
I’m uncertain why I hadn’t noticed it before, but now that I’m surrounded by sizzling meats, aromatic spices, and roasting vegetables, I’m left lightheaded.
A long row of clay ovens lines one side of the kitchens, all of them blazing with iron woks placed on top.
Ladles stir soups and fry up sauces all on their own, enchanted to cook ceaselessly.
The kitchen opens up into a large atrium of glass, its domed ceiling dotted with winking stars. Suspended in the very center sits a chandelier in the shape of a glowing silver moon, so round and full it appears to have its own gravity, pulling me closer and closer like water at high tide.
“It’s an illusion I’ve cast,” Kelai explains with obvious pride. “After a millennium spent underground, I must say I dearly miss the sky. Come, friends. Sit and eat.”
With a snap of her fingers, a circular table and five low chairs suddenly appear in the center of the room.
A wide assortment of dishes appears from out of nowhere, glistening in oil and cradled in rising steam.
The star goddess takes her seat without a fuss.
She places a brown clay teapot over a small candle to warm the brew before helping herself to a little bit of everything.
Sooah is the first to sit, though not without hesitation. Wen follows, then Sonam, and finally myself. No one reaches for the food, so I volunteer, plucking a braised chicken leg from a nearby plate. I sniff at it.
“It’s not poisoned,” I murmur.
“Of course not,” Kelai says with a laugh. “You have nothing to fear. I promise I’m nothing but a gracious host.”
The first bites come cautiously. When none of us keel over or choke on our own tongues, we realize the star goddess is speaking the truth.
The humans are hungry beyond words, digging in with rapt appreciation.
Rice, pork dumplings, and garlic beans. Sweet buns, roasted beef, and sweet egg drop soup topped with minced green onion.
Sooah piles her bowl high. Wen stuffs his face. Sonam eats with refined posture and all the manners one might expect from someone of his upbringing. And I…
I don’t eat anything. Even though my stomach grumbles, I know the food set out before us will do little to sate my hunger.
There’s only one thing I crave, and human flesh is decidedly not on the menu.
I keep my hands tucked away on my lap, chewing on my tongue in lieu of anything substantial.
It would be like filling up on water. Enough to stop the stomach cramps and stave off starvation, but there would be no satisfaction in it.
Kelai watches me with a twinkle in her eyes. “You have questions,” she says.
“Not really,” I reply. “Just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.”
“Goodness, my younger brothers must have done a number on you poor things.” She leans back slightly, observing us with a graceful tilt of her head. “There’s no need to fear. I’m nowhere near as spiteful as my siblings.”
“You could be lying,” Sonam points out.
“True, but if I wanted to harm any of you, I would have done it already.”
“Why feed us?” Wen asks. “I thought this was the Court of Hunger.”
“Precisely,” Kelai says with a giggle. “I was tasked to oversee this place, but no one said I couldn’t reinterpret the trial I set forth.”
A scrumptious meal, the lovely scenery, a warm welcome, and easy conversation.
All the elements of the perfectly safe and normal.
And yet tension seizes my neck and shoulders, my jaw grinding my molars into a paste.
Something’s bound to go wrong. It has to.
How else can I explain the unease churning deep within my gut?
When things are too good to be true, I find that they are, in fact, just that.
“Are you really a star?” Wen asks around a mouthful. “I thought Houyi killed all of you—”
Sooah shoves her elbow into his rib, pinning him with a glare.
Kelai merely giggles. “It’s alright, my dear. Yes, it’s true the archer shot us down, but it takes more than an arrow to kill us.”
“Is it even possible?” I mutter. “To kill a god.”
“You sound keen to try.” And then, after a moment, she says, “Where there’s a will, as they say—though I have never witnessed such a feat.”
Kelai studies me carefully. I feel her loneliness then. It washes off of her in a cold trickle, barely contained behind a crumbling dam of control. “What can I do to convince you to trust me?” she asks.
It’s Sooah who answers, gesturing elaborately with both hands. I instinctively look to Sonam, who translates, “She wants to know what courts lie ahead. What challenges can we expect to face?”
“Well, next is the Court of Dreams—”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Wen mumbles.
“—where souls are tested against their heart’s own paradise. To wake and see the truth that all is not as it could be leaves the soul shattered beyond repair.”
“You spoke too early,” I tell Wen with a bitter huff.
“And then?” Sonam prompts.
“Then comes the Court of Despair, which will test your resolve.”
“In what way?”
“In every way,” she replies vaguely. “And then there’s the Court of Fear where most souls are haunted by their biggest regrets, the Court of Blades—”
Wen swallows thickly. “Blades?”
“Oh, yes. I hear that one’s a fun one. You must find your courage and tread over a path made of knives that carve your feet down to the bone.
And then comes the sea of maggots of the Court of Rot, the Court of Beasts containing the venom of the world’s most vicious creatures, and finally the Court of Fire, which I feel is self-explanatory.
Once you’ve made it through, you’ll find yourself at the Gates of Hell located at the very center. ”
Kelai’s chipper tone has done little to soften the silence that follows. As determined as I am to escape Hell, there’s no way all four of us are going to make it out alive at this rate. A soul doesn’t have as much to worry about since they’re already dead. But what about us?
Sooah signs something else, and Sonam translates. “She wants to know if there’s a faster way out. A shortcut, perhaps. I don’t know how we’ll fare with all these courts standing in our way.”
The goddess’s face brightens. “Oh, but of course! I could probably draw you a map.”
I squint at her. This is wrong. Something about the star goddess doesn’t sit well with me. “You’re willing to give it to us? Just like that?”
“Fox,” Sonam warns.
“I don’t believe you,” I continue, on edge and queasy. “What do you get out of helping us?”
Kelai looks at me with genuine pity. “You poor child. When was the last time someone was kind to you?”
My face heats. It’s a stupid question, but I can’t help but wonder.
When was the last time someone was kind to me?
I’ve been on my own for so long that I’ve rarely had the opportunity for such a thing.
And even if I did spend time surrounded by people, I’m sure their attitudes toward me would quickly change once they realize what I am.
Offering kindness to a demon? How absurd.
My jaw aches, my innate compulsion to answer direct questions forcing words into my mouth. “I don’t recall,” I mutter bitterly.
Kelai rises from the table, so graceful I’d mistake her for a cloud in all her pearly white robes.
“Let me find some parchment so I can draw you that map. I’ll return momentarily.
” She leaves swiftly, so light on her feet that I hear no footsteps.
Kelai doesn’t so much step as she does glide, disappearing beyond the doors of the kitchen to an adjacent room just out of sight.
Sonam plucks a bit of chicken between his chopsticks and places the morsel in my empty bowl. “Do you really think it’s a trick?” he asks.
“Absolutely,” I reply, reluctantly picking up my own utensils. I fumble with them awkwardly, unsure how to balance them between my fingers. “All this information, but at what cost? I don’t trust a word out of her mouth.”
“Neither do I,” Sonam says with a heavy sigh. “The food isn’t half bad, though.”
“I would wait to see if Wen keels over first.”
The guard in question looks up, his mouth stuffed full of rice and veggies. He swallows thickly. His face hasn’t turned green, and his tongue has yet to swell. “Tastes fine.”
“Stay vigilant,” Sonam instructs. And then, quieter, so only I can hear, “Eat what you’re able, Fox. Who knows how much longer we’ll be down here.”
His words are surprisingly gentle. I’d think it was sweet were it not for the fact that he probably wants to keep my belly as full as possible so I don’t eat his compatriots instead. He must be nervous about upsetting me.
Running my tongue over my teeth, I risk a small bite of the food he’s piled into my bowl.
It’s fine. The taste is pleasant enough, though it won’t be long before I lose control.
The countdown to ravenous, maddening hunger began the moment I finished with the drunkard back in Longhao.
One wouldn’t expect a tiger to subsist on a diet of vegetables, nor a demon on human meals.
While not impossible, it goes against our better nature.
I will need more than these few meager bites.
All I have had is some stale rice, salted fish, and two fingers. I’m going to waste away at this rate.
Kelai returns with a giddy laugh, carrying an impressive collection of fabric in her arms. “Look what I found! You all look like you could use a hot bath and a change of clothes. Let’s see what fits you.”
She comes right for me and Sooah, ushering us to our feet. I take a step back, trying to avoid her excessive fawning. “A bath really isn’t necessary,” I say quickly.
“Nonsense! Believe me, you’ll feel a lot better once you’ve washed off all this blood and grime.”
“But—”
“This way, this way,” she says, practically shoving us down a nearby hall.
I clench my fists, ready to strike. This could be her strategy.
Lower our guard, separate us from the group, and then torture us until the end of time in some perverse, wretched way.
There’s a frenzied energy about her, I notice now, unstable and flitty like a hummingbird.
Her old, feeble appearance won’t fool me.
I know all about using my looks to my advantage. Sooah seems just as alarmed.
I throw an urgent glance at Sonam, but the star goddess is surprisingly strong. She leads us away before I have the chance to do anything.