Page 13 of Between Ghosts and Gods

“This is it? It doesn’t look like much.”

“I fought a duel with a seven-foot-tall demon for that mask: be grateful, human!” Ruo huffed. Though if Kasu recalled correctly, Ruo had fallen through the ceiling, set the Sage of a Thousand Faces’ house on fire and then fled.

With a sceptical look on his face, Arun tied the strings of the mask around his head.

After a moment, the white-painted wood shimmered and faded, turning invisible. If Kasu hadn’t known it was there, she would never have guessed Arun was wearing a mask at all. The scent of burnt sugar and fresh bread also disappeared. She did not want to admit that she missed it.

“Well?” he asked. “Did it work? How do I look?”

“Not as beautiful as me,” said Ruo.

“You look like any old average ghost.”

He nodded, satisfied. “Now I can start looking for my mother. Now I can finally get to the bottom of what happened to her…” The determination in his eyes wavered and he deflated. “I’m not sure where to start.”

You could start with a thank you. Kasu tried and failed to keep the thought from fully forming. She would meditate on it later.

In the meantime, she tried to make sense of the person in front of her. The aura mask saved him from one danger, but it also enabled him to plunge headlong into another. Even for a ghost, the city could be perilous. If Kasu wanted to keep Arun alive, she couldn’t wipe her hands of him yet.

As if on cue, Arun’s stomach growled.

Kasu sighed. “Let’s get you some food.”

“Now?”

There was no better time than now. The cooks would be finished with the preparations for tomorrow’s meals and the staff dining room would be empty. Besides, Kasu had also skipped dinner; her stomach was beginning to growl too.

“There’s a dining hall below the dormitory,” she said. “You can’t plan anything on an empty stomach.”

“You’re still helping me?”

“Is that a problem?”

Arun shook his head. “No, it’s not a problem,” he said, though his eyes remained full of caution.

His suspicion is understandable, Kasu reminded herself. Demons often did mortals favours with the goal of lowering their guard – it was natural that Arun might think she was doing the same. Suspicion was good. It would keep him alive.

The dormitory was open at all hours, though Kasu had a hunch that this was only because the door was too old and warped to lock properly. At this time of night, almost everyone would be asleep, but she tiptoed inside all the same. Checking that the coast was clear, she led Arun and Ruo through the creaking hallway and down the steps into the basement where the staff’s meals were served.

The stone room was filled with round tables and wooden chairs arranged in rows so tight there was hardly any space to walk between them. Red lanterns strung on long, knotted ropes dangled from the ceiling, emitting a dim, sickly glow. Though the kitchen had fallen silent and the ovens had grown cold, the air was still thick with the smell of roasted meat and the sharp, acrid stench of salted fish.

Searching through the cupboards at the end of the kitchen, Kasu found slices of dried fish, half a chicken, a small pot of rice, salted duck eggs, fried human fingers wrapped in leaves and a container of eyeball soup.

Leaving the fingers and eyeballs behind, Kasu tossed the slices of fish to Ruo and carried the rice, eggs and chicken to the table where Arun was sitting.

“Nothing weird will happen to me if I eat this, will it?” Arun eyed the food with caution.

“Weird?” said Kasu.

“People say that if you eat the food of the under-realm you’ll never be able to leave.”

“That’s nonsense. Although, it is filled with ghost qi, so if you eat too much at once you might get sick.”

“Ghost qi?”

“You know what qi is, don’t you? Qi is the life force that maintains all things. Ghost qi is – well, as the name suggests, it’s the ‘life’ force that maintains ghosts,” said Kasu. “We eat food fortified with ghost qi to maintain our forms and sleep to conserve our strength. The ghosts you mentioned earlier, the ones that are – what was the word you used – ‘floaty’? Those ghosts are weak and on the verge of fading away, and once you fade away, that’s it. There’s no coming back. No reincarnation.”

To fade away was a true death. Kasu sometimes wondered if it was a peaceful process, though she had never considered it an option for herself. Even if she was freed from her contract with Lady Camellia, she didn’t want to fade into nothing. She was going to be reborn. To feel the sun on her skin again and breathe in the scent of freshly cut grass.