Chapter 38 Sonam
What is this pain in my chest when I look upon her?
Why does my heart race when she draws near?
Demons ahead, Sooah informs us.
We’ve got our backs pressed up against the outer wall of the sixth Court of Hell, peeking out from around the corner to get a better view of what lies ahead.
Unexpectedly for the pits of hell, only row after row of stone houses sit before us, their windows and doors all boarded shut with planks of wood.
A ghost town. I wonder where the path we seek is within these empty houses.
“Are you sure this is the way?” a snake demon hisses, a porcelain mask of a young man’s face tied to the side of his head. “How did we lose the others?”
“It’s because this moron thought he smelled a human,” grumbles the ox demon standing just beside, snorting angrily at the monkey rounding out the group. The strap of his mask, one of a little girl, is tied around his thick forearm.
The monkey, whose mask of a feeble old man hangs from around his neck, scratches his head, turning around to inspect the area. We duck out of the way before he can catch sight of us. “But I could have sworn—”
“We have to catch up,” the snake insists, already slithering its way down one of the rows. “Who cares if there are stray humans around? There will be plenty to eat soon.”
When the trio finally walks off, I exhale as slowly and silently as possible.
If it had come down to a confrontation, we might have been able to hold our own, but I’d rather not risk putting Yue in harm’s way.
Not now that she’s so intensely vulnerable.
What she needs is a place to lie comfortably, get a few hours of deep rest. If there are demons lingering around, it means the Maskmaker can’t be too far ahead of us.
We’re catching up, and soon, we’ll be able to sneak around and get ahead.
Everything’s going according to plan.
What if it doesn’t? asks a tiny voice in the back of my skull.
Doubt is nothing to despise. In fact, it’s a huntsman’s greatest tool. To always be on guard, to always be thinking of alternate plans—it’s the thin line that differentiates between those who survive and those who end up buried.
But this time, there is no room for error. Not with the fate of the mortal realm, and perhaps even the Heavens above, hanging in the balance.
“See if you can pry those boards off the window,” I tell Sooah and Wen. “We can’t stay out in the open. They might double back.”
We waste no time. Sooah and Wen rip the planks off, the rusty nails holding them in place offering up little resistance. Wen’s the one who pokes his head in through the gap in the window to take a look at the interior.
“Is the coast clear?” I ask.
“Er… sort of,” he replies, sounding heavily unsure. “Come see for yourself.”
Cradling Yue in my arms, I step forward and peer inside the stone house. It’s plainly furnished, the tables and chairs crafted from light-grained wood. A thick layer of dust coats every available surface, an uninterrupted field of snow. For the most part, the house looks completely abandoned.
And then I notice the strange beings huddled together in the corner.
A family of souls appearing to watch us.
Unlike the human souls we’ve encountered, these are nearly shapeless and lack any distinctive features.
I can discern the outline of heads, and maybe arms, but they otherwise resemble shadows.
I can tell that they’ve been here a long time given that they, too, are covered in dust.
I don’t get the sense that they’re hostile. Then again, I don’t get the sense of much of anything from them. They’re just… there. Defeated and fearful.
And then there’s the Court of Fear, Kelai had said, where most souls are haunted by their biggest regrets.
“They won’t harm us,” I decide aloud, carefully transferring Yue to Sooah so that I can free up my arms to climb inside. Once my feet are planted, I take Yue back, holding on to her protectively.
As I suspected, the shades don’t move toward us. If anything, they seem to press themselves up against the corner, cowering.
I take in our surroundings. This house can only boast a small gathering area and a single bedroom shunted off toward the back. Neither Sooah nor Wen argue when I take Yue directly there.
“Seal the way,” I instruct them. “We won’t be here long, but we best not risk any unwanted surprises.”
Wen nods. “But what about these things?” he asks, gesturing to the shades. “They’re unnerving.”
“Keep an eye on them, but leave them be.”
I nudge the thin wooden door to the bedroom open with my foot, relieved to see that there’s a small bed to lay Yue on.
There are no pillows or blankets in sight, but it’s as good a place to rest as any.
Given all we’ve been through, a safe place to sleep and four walls for privacy is, frankly, a luxury.
I sit on the edge of Yue’s bed and watch her sleep, observing and then admiring the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.
I absentmindedly reach out to brush a few strands of hair from her face, noting the curl of her lashes and the gentle slope of her nose.
The mask I painted for her is nothing short of a marvel, but that’s not why I’m transfixed.
She once terrified me. And in some ways, she terrifies me still. But now it’s not her teeth or her claws or her tongue lashings I fear, but that my heart is beginning to crave her warmth, the feel of her fingers pressed against mine, the fleeting glances she thinks I haven’t noticed.
At the end of the day, I’m still a hunter. What will become of us when we finally leave this place?
If Yue returns to the mortal realm with us, there’s no question that she’d have to return to the hunt. I’d be condemning innocent humans to her jaws.
She is at her most vulnerable now. To save those innocents, all I’d have to do is reach for one of my daggers and be through with it. But guilt won’t let me do that, not after everything we’ve been through and everything she’s done for us.
As I wrestle with my heart and my duty, a terrible pressure grows behind my eyes.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t deserve to sit by her side.
“Careful, Captain. You look like your head’s about to burst.”
I glance down at Yue and chuckle softly. Her eyes are open a crack. “What are you talking about?” I ask. “I always look like this.”
She rolls onto her side to face me better, our hands barely a whisper apart. “You’ll lose your hair if you don’t manage your stress better,” she murmurs. Yue lifts her little finger, and I reply by brushing the pad of my thumb along her fingertip.
“How long was I asleep?”
“We have time.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know, but I’m telling you that we have time.”
She sighs. “Sonam, I’m—”
“How are you feeling?” I ask, unsure why my heart insists on pounding so loudly. A part of me is worried that Yue can hear it, her ears no doubt sharper than most.
She presses her lips into a thin line. “I’m cold.”
I take her hand, carefully threading my fingers between hers. “Better?”
She shakes her head. “Still cold.”
I pull my legs up onto the small bed and lie down next to her, holding her hand flat against my chest. There’s still a whisper of space between us, yet that gap might as well be an endless void because I’m nowhere as close as I wish to be. “And now?” I ask, my throat uncharacteristically tight.
She slips her hand out from beneath mine and reaches up, using her fingers to trace over my chin. Her cheeks are flushed pink. “Much better,” she murmurs. “Although…”
“Yes?”
Yue visibly swallows. Her stomach grumbles—and rather loudly at that—answering on her behalf. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “Don’t mind me.”
“But I do,” I say. “I mind you a great deal.” I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck to her. “If you’re hungry—”
“Don’t—”
“It’s willingly given,” I interject.
Her face turns bright-red, her brows pulling together into a frown. “You’ve gone mad. Do you know how easily I could kill you?”
“You won’t.” I peer deeply into her eyes, not searching so much as letting her in. “I trust you.”
“A grave mistake.”
“Yue,” I say firmly but not unkindly.
Her gaze flits down to my pulse point, her breathing shallow and tight. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she confesses. Admittedly something I never thought I’d hear a demon say. “And it will hurt, Sonam. If you insist that I eat, you can give me your palm again.”
“We both know that wasn’t enough for you. You can have your fill this way.”
“Has anyone ever told you that talking to you is like talking to a wall?”
“I could say the same to you.”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“A trait we share, it seems.”
With a sigh, Yue rolls toward me, delicately pressing a hand against my far shoulder for stability. She leans in slowly. Unsure. The warmth of her breath tickles the thin skin of my neck, sending goosebumps trailing down my arms.
I never could have imagined myself in this position. To not only be this close to a demon, but to allow her to feed of my own accord. And yet, as Yue presses her lips to the crook of my neck, I don’t panic. I don’t even reach for one of my weapons in case she loses control.
Her teeth dig into my flesh, sending shards of glass shooting up my spine to barrage the inside of my skull.
As a fox, she might have ripped the side of my throat away with her fangs, but this is little more than a puncture.
The pain fades quickly into numbness. It’s strange, in a way, knowing what I know.
A demon’s prey rarely lasts long, and yet I feel perfectly fine.
Could it be that Yue’s being gentle for my sake?
When she throws a leg over, straddling my hips, I know I’ve spoken too soon.
She presses her full weight against me, pinning me on my back.
Yue drinks greedily. Her teeth sink in deeper, her searing tongue swiping against my neck.
Every gulp she takes comes with a pleasured, breathy moan.
And although the sound ignites a firestorm within my veins, I dare not name the sensation.
Yue pulls away with a gasp, her mouth coming away crimson.
She runs her tongue over her lips, careful to lick up every last drop.
Her cheeks are flushed and her pupils blown wide.
Yue looks every bit as wild as she is bewitching as she brings a hand up to apply steady pressure to staunch the bleeding, the pad of her thumb grazing along the line of my jaw.
Gods, she is a sight.
“Better?” I ask.
She nods. “Much.”
I can’t help but stare at her mouth. There’s a strange heat growing in my core. It’s terrible. And I crave it all the more.
“Will you tell me a tale?” she asks, her long lashes fluttering closed. Yue continues to lie atop me, resting her head against my chest.
“Which one?” I bring a hand up to find a lock of her hair, absentmindedly twisting it around my finger.
“Whatever comes to mind.”
“A tragedy, then,” I murmur, “of Houyi and Chang’e.
Houyi shot down nine of the ten stars to keep the world from burning.
He was awarded an elixir of immortality by the gods for his heroic deeds.
Little did they know he didn’t do it for anyone’s sake other than his beloved.
It was for this reason that fate decided to take a twisted turn, sending someone to steal what he loved most. Believing the elixir to be under threat, Chang’e drank every last drop rather than see it fall into the wrong hands.
The magic within flew her away to the moon—and in that one moment, what Houyi loved most was stolen from him forever.
“He spent the rest of his life searching for a way to bring her back. He sought council with the land’s wisest shamans and pleaded with the gods—but all to no avail.
Houyi spent the rest of his years looking longingly up at the moon, setting out cakes and sweets Chang’e once enjoyed on Earth in offering.
On the night he finally passed, it is said that the moon shone twice as bright and full so that he could look up one last time and know his moon goddess was watching over him. ”
“Yet another love story,” she says, once I’ve concluded.
“As I said, every story is a love story.”
Yue curls in a bit closer, the tips of our toes brushing up against one another. “I wonder what it’s like,” she whispers. “To be loved by someone so much that they’d be willing to kill the stars for you.”
“Poets have tried putting it into words for centuries.”
“But what about you? What does the great Captain Sonam think it means to be loved?”
I pause, turning her question over in my mind, though there is hardly a neat, simple explanation. “It’s a great many things, I think. To be loved is to be seen. To be accepted. To be not only wanted but needed.”
“Must be nice,” she mumbles, her lips barely grazing my own as she speaks. It’s not a kiss, not quite.
But I want it to be.
“What is this spell you have me under?” I whisper, more to myself than to her.
She laughs softly. “This is no spell.”
“Yue, I…” I set my jaw, swallowing hard. The right words won’t come to mind. As much as I want to lean forward and claim her lips for my own, I resist with just as much adamance.
Because there is only one truth: No matter how I yearn to know her touch, it doesn’t change what we are. A demon and her hunter. What love could we ever hope to share?
Our hearts are made of different metals, hers forged from gold and mine from silver.
We’re destined to clash. Perhaps not now, when the light is dim and we’re desperate for each other’s warmth, but someday—and soon.
We are reluctant allies here in Hell, but once we return to the surface, that is over.
We cannot change what we were born to be.
“I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s fine,” she says, pulling away.
The sudden distance between us leaves me empty. I expect to look up and see dejection. Rage. Hurt. Instead, I’m greeted with a resigned smile. And somehow, that’s a million times worse, because it means she knows, just as I know, that we were never meant to be.
“We should get going,” Yue whispers. She stands and leaves, stealing all the warmth of the room along with her.