Page 20 of Between Ghosts and Gods

“Where is the wheel? Who do you pay?”

Hanyu looked Kasu up and down, his gaze unimpressed. Kasu tried to remember what he had traded with her for his tiles. Gold, she thought. She never remembered the ones who bought their tiles with plain old money.

“In the theatre district. There’s a lady who will let you walk through the wheel for a price.”

“What? Where?” Kasu asked. The other gamblers had completely given up their own games now and were watching them with interest.

“I told ya! The theatre district.” Hanyu made a shooing motion at her, as if she was some annoying fly distracting him from his game.

“Where in the theatre district?” Arun moved his stones across the board. “You don’t really know, do you?”

The ghosts spectating the match sneered and shouted.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that trash!”

“Old Hanyu’s just making stuff up! Or maybe he’s had so much spirit nectar he’s hallucinating!”

Their sniggers turned to ugly, cackling hoots that only made Hanyu even more furious. He gripped his cup so tight, Kasu feared it might crack.

“It’s true!” He slammed his fist against the table so hard the stones jumped. “A bunch of actors saw a woman from the heavens at the Grand Pavilion Theatre!”

“A woman from the heavens?” Arun jerked back as if struck.

There was a riot in Kasu’s heart. A woman from the heavens with a reincarnation wheel. Could it be…

When she glanced at Arun again, his shoulders were stiff. Perhaps he had come to the same conclusion.

Kasu felt something soft nudge her elbow. The dog demon that had approached the table leaned against her shoulder, so close she could smell the stench of raw intestines on his breath as he whispered. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Other ghosts have told me that Hanyu is … well, he’s got hooked on Rem, recently.”

Hanyu’s expression tightened. No doubt he had overheard.

Rem was made from the same flower that produced spirit nectar, though instead of the flower’s pollen the petals were collected, dried and turned into a kind of tobacco. Smoking it had the same refreshing qualities as drinking spirit nectar, and in large amounts it could make one hallucinate, remember long-buried memories of past lives, or speak with strange, unknown forces. Kasu had also heard that it was highly addictive.

The bottom half of Hanyu’s face was as red as his mask. The table shook beneath his trembling hands.

“Come on, uncle, it’s your turn.” Arun’s expression was as untroubled as still water, but there were ripples in his gaze.

The sound of clacking stones was almost drowned out by the laughter from the peanut gallery.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Hanyu snapped at them. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a game? Shut up and let me play! I’m going to win big, and pay my way into the next life!”

The other gamblers jeered, but Kasu didn’t find anything amusing about Hanyu’s desperation. She had seen the same thing in other patrons who came to Camellia House: the same fanatical belief that somehow, some way, things would work out for them. The next throw would win back all their losses. The next game would make them rich and happy. The reincarnation wheel would give them another shot at life.

It was the kind of dog-blind faith that was only born from being out of options. When you could only hope for a better tomorrow because hope was all you had left.

Ridiculous, Kasu thought. If someone had to put their trust in anything, it should be the Heavenly Principles. The gods were infallible and the heavens were constant. No one could go wrong with the Heavenly Principles as their guide.

Arun was moving his pieces across the board, his attention once more on the game. One by one, the other ghosts at the table surrendered, and Arun’s pile of chips steadily grew. If he was cheating, Kasu couldn’t tell. Neither could the other ghosts, judging by the way Hanyu kept grinding his teeth. With each turn that passed, his breathing became shorter and his motions more erratic. He snapped at the servers to bring him another cup of spirit nectar and chucked a handful of gambling tiles onto the board from his own dwindling pile.

“Perhaps our honoured guest has had enough for the day,” Kasu murmured.

“Yes, Hanyu, maybe you should quit before I take everything you have.” Arun smirked.

“I was speaking of the young gentleman,” she said, tightly.

“Me?” said Arun.

“You have won enough, haven’t you?”