Chapter 26 Yue
With her mask, her beauty is undeniable.
You’re back!” Kelai chirps, flitting about the main room with more enthusiasm than I have energy.
She has an overwhelming essence, big and bright and all too much for so small a figure.
“You must be feeling refreshed, yes? Here, some new dresses. Can’t very well have you walking around in those uncomfortable, filthy rags, hmm? ”
I don’t argue when the star goddess tugs off my outer robe and shoves a new one onto my back, smoothing out any errant wrinkles she happens to find.
Although the garment is beautiful, boasting a light-blue dye glittering with a pattern of delicate pearls along the edges, no doubt meant to mimic the foamy nature of waves washing upon the shore, I don’t care much for her firm handling.
Though I fear that if I say anything, she’ll snap.
Take a violent turn. Her frenzied state makes my skin prickle and my gut clench.
Kelai may be outwardly friendly, but there’s a stifling crackle in the air.
Something unsound and jittery, like a bloodhound playing a little too rough.
“Where’s Sonam?” is the first thing I ask.
Kelai adjusts my collar, brushing my damp hair out of the way. “Who?” she asks.
My heart stutters. “The captain,” I say tightly, suddenly on edge. Sooah and I exchange a glance, our hackles raising. “What have you done with him?”
The star goddess blinks, not an apparent thought in her head, before something sparks.
She slaps her own forehead and giggles wildly.
“Oh, yes! Yes, of course. I sent the men off for their own baths. They should return shortly.” Kelai steps back to appraise her work, fiddling with the silk of my sleeves.
“My, you’re a beauty. Isn’t she a beauty? ”
I’m not entirely sure who the goddess is speaking to until I hear the soft clap of shoes padding across the floor tiles. Sonam and Wen have returned, just as Kelai said they would, their hair damp and skin scrubbed clean to the point of pinkishness.
I find myself staring. There’s something intriguing about seeing Sonam stripped down to his inner robes.
Without his armor and the colors of the royal family, he appears almost unburdened.
Relaxed, now that he’s shed the appearance of both prince and hunter.
He’s let his top knot down, messy strands falling over his eyes.
For some reason, the quick peek I take of his exposed neck and bare upper chest makes my face warm.
He’s quite handsome, I suppose. For a loathsome human. I have no doubt that he’ll make some princess very happy one day. Who wouldn’t want to align themselves with the Demon Hunter of Jian, survivor of the Courts of Hell? When we escape this place, he will be the stuff of legends.
And I, no doubt, the villain of his story.
“Well?” Kelai urges when no one answers, batting her lashes as she twirls her fingers around a few locks of my hair.
“A demon in the robes of a goddess,” Wen says wryly. “Now I’ve seen everything.”
I sneer at his remark, biting back the avalanche of insults I could easily sling in his direction after having saved his life. Ingrate. I’m fully prepared for whatever jab Sonam has, as well, only…
He says nothing. The captain stares openly with a strange, heated intensity. What could he be thinking? Probably that I’m the vilest creature to ever walk the earth, or perhaps that I dishonor them all by simply existing in the same space as a goddess who once gazed upon the Kingdom of Heaven.
Sonam finally averts his gaze, the tips of his ears an unusual shade of pink. No doubt due to the heat of the bathwater. “A dress is a dress,” he says bluntly, his voice unusually tight. It’s not exactly an insult, but it’s not a compliment, either.
“Show me your hands,” I grumble. “Both of you.”
There’s a moment of confusion, but the captain and Wen do eventually raise their hands.
They have all ten fingers. After our little scuffle, the Maskmaker will only have eight, his digits digesting nicely in the pit of my belly.
Unless he knows the specific magic he needs to grow his fingers back, it’s as foolproof a plan as we’re going to get to ensure there isn’t an imposter among us.
Kelai is the first to speak, wringing her fingers together. I also count ten there, though it’s unlikely she’s the Maskmaker in hiding. “Well, I’m sure you’re all very tired after the long journey you’ve had,” she says. “I think a good night’s sleep is in order.”
With a simple snap of her fingers, the table full of food shoves to one side, making room for four bedrolls of soft goose down to unfurl beneath the moon chandelier. It’s waning now, a crescent shadow stretching across its surface.
“What about the map?” Wen asks bluntly, not that I can blame him.
The star goddess rubs her temples with the tips of her long fingers and hums. “Ah, yes, the map, the map… I will have it for you very soon. The ink is drying. Wouldn’t want to smudge all the details and have you lose your way.
” She laughs brightly, but I can’t help but notice how strained the sound is in my ears.
“How long will it take?” Sonam presses on. “We appreciate what you’ve done for us, but we’re in a hurry.”
Kelai’s hands start to shake as she nervously combs her hair. “In a hurry? But don’t you want to stay for breakfast? I’ll make sweet egg tarts. You’ll love them!”
I take a cautious step forward, fearful now of her manic energy. “Kelai, we just—”
“Go to sleep now,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Sleep, everyone. Rest is important.”
“But we need to—”
“SLEEP!” Kelai’s face darkens, her eyes flashing bright red.
It takes her a moment to regain her composure, a friendly smile quickly plastering itself upon her lips as though nothing ever happened.
She returns to her usual singsong manner and says, “Good night, my friends. I hope you have the most pleasant dreams.”
She all but glides out of the room, sealing the doors behind her. The four of us are speechless. My palms are clammy as I step toward the door and reach for the handle.
Locked.
I turn to face the humans with a grimace. “I have bad news.”
Wen lets out an angry roar as he charges toward the door, kicking the frame with all the strength he can muster.
It doesn’t budge. Doesn’t even creak. The fool falls onto his back like an overturned beetle and groans.
One sniff is all I need to know that the door’s been enchanted, sealed until Kelai decides otherwise.
“Should I give it another try?” Wen grunts.
“Please do,” I reply. “I would love to watch that again.”
“Spread out,” Sonam orders, taking the helm. “Look for windows and other doors.”
It takes us less than a minute to realize we’re completely trapped in.
Kelai has left us all the comforts of the steam room and main atrium, but there’s no point in denying this place for what it is—a prison.
I knew her generosity was too good to be true.
Like flies to sugared water, she’s lured us into her trap.
We should have left while we had a chance.
Sooah gestures as if to say, Now what?
Wen looks at me with a shiver. “How thick do you reckon these walls are? Could you dig your way through in your other form?”
I crinkle my nose, my breath appearing in the form of silvery clouds. “I can’t smell the earth. The jade around us is too thick. Doubt I’ll be able to make a dent.”
Sooah rubs her arms for warmth, looking around in confusion as unmistakable traces of frost are slowly crawling up the walls, across the ceiling, and over the floors.
My teeth chatter, the tips of my fingers and toes already swelling with the sudden drop in temperature.
We’re going to freeze. Was this Kelai’s plan the entire time?
Sonam is quick to act. He gathers up sitting cushions and shoving them into a corner, beckoning Wen and Sooah to him.
“Gather in close. We need to stay warm. We’ll ambush the goddess when she comes to check on us.
” Sonam looks to me next, something close to a question behind his eyes.
“You, too, Fox,” he says, slowly holding out his hand.
I hold my breath, taken aback by the invitation. My insides squirm. This is merely a matter of survival, nothing more.
Then an idea occurs to me. It isn’t a pleasant one, but given the circumstances, it is necessary. The chill is already eating away at my skin, but I doubt this strange magic will bother me as much if I’m concealed in warm fur.
Slowly, I lower my head, relinquishing control as Sonam steps forth. I pry my disguise off. The magic drips away and I crouch down on all fours, scraping my claws against the tile.
“Don’t break it,” I tell him, allowing him to hold my mask.
He nods. “I won’t.”
This mask is my most prized possession—arguably my only possession. Yet I know it will be safest with him. I’ll simply have to take him at his word.
A strange wave of insecurity washes over me.
I’m so terribly exposed without my mask.
Willingly allowing Sonam, Wen, and Sooah to watch me in my true form goes against every fiber of my being.
I’ve spent so many years hiding from humans, my survival instincts having taken precedence.
Yet here I am, my truest self, helping these three where I normally never would have spared them a second thought.
Ignoring the sensation of their eyes raking over my hideous form, I make my way over to the corner and sit down first. The sourness of their trepidation curdles the air.
If I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t want to curl up with a man-eating demon, either.
Without another escape plan, however, they have no choice.
Sooah is the first to sit at my side, tucking her knees to her chest. Wen is next, so cold that he practically buries his face against my fur, any disgust reserved toward me momentarily shelved now that he finds me useful.
Finally, Sonam, who holds my mask close to his chest like it’s something precious.
He likely wants to keep his arms near his body for warmth, that’s all.
Once they’re all seated, I curl my nine tails around them, wrapping the humans up in a cocoon of fur.
Far from a perfect solution, but I should be able to see us through the worst of it.
The temperature plummets until it grows unbearable.
The moisture from the steam baths only makes things that much more precarious, ice droplets clinging to the fine hair around my eyes and on the humans’ skin.
Sooah’s teeth won’t stop chattering. The tip of Wen’s nose has turned an alarming purple. And Sonam…
His eyes are open, tirelessly darting around the room in search of something. An exit, perhaps. Even in our dire situation, he hasn’t stopped trying to formulate a plan. Plotting. Ever alert and looking for solutions. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so preoccupied with freezing to death.
“Rest,” I whisper, the thin skin of my lips so brittle it’s begun to split. “Save your strength for when she returns.”
Sonam shivers. “What about you?”
I appreciate that he sounds so concerned. Humans are such clever little liars.
“I’ll be fine,” I answer him truthfully. “I’m always fine.”