Page 22 of Between Ghosts and Gods

“There’s no need.” Lady Camellia extended one skeletal hand towards Hanyu and snatched him up.

The screech that emerged from the ghost’s mouth echoed through the hall. Kasu clapped her hands over her ears as the walls shook. Hanyu struggled in Lady Camellia’s grip as she lifted him off his feet and tipped back her head. Her jaw dislocated like that of a snake, giving her room to stretch her mouth impossibly wide.

Kasu saw Hanyu reach a desperate hand towards the ceiling a moment before he disappeared down Lady Camellia’s gullet.

“Disgusting.” The demon pulled a face. “Now, would anyone like to tell me what happened here?”

Everyone looked at Arun.

“You’re a new face. Where did you come from, boy?” Lady Camellia stooped over him, the bones in her spine creaking as she moved.

Kasu panicked.

“I died last week,” Arun lied with an almost aggressive ease. Kasu did her best not to gawk at him.

“Ah, poor thing, and who owns you now?” Lady Camellia circled the edge of a hall with a skeletal grin.

Arun sat up with a shrug. “No one. I died in a war and now I can’t move on.”

“You were once a hungry ghost, were you? Then you came to terms with your demise awfully quickly. Most hungry ghosts take at least fifty years to accept their deaths.”

“I always was an overachiever,” Arun said smoothly. As if he didn’t even know how suspicious that was. As if he did not care how ridiculous he sounded.

Kasu kept her forehead pressed to the ground so that no one could see the sheer terror on her face. So Arun was obviously lying. Who cared? Some ghosts were defensive about their deaths. No, what was important was that Lady Camellia did not find out Kasu had given away a handful of gambling tiles for free. Her eyes darted across the floor. Arun’s tiles had fallen among the colourful stones when Hanyu had upturned the table. Slowly, she reached for them.

“Kasu.”

Kasu jumped. “Y–yes, my lady?”

“It’s unusual to see you away from your post.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Camellia!” How long had she been away from her counter? More than eight minutes, she’d bet. She knew she should have set the sign to fifteen. Maybe she should not have stepped away at all. What if there was a line of customers waiting for her when she got back? What if they were angry with her?

“Oh no, that wasn’t a criticism. You’re entitled to a lunch break.” Lady Camellia’s tone was light and graceful, as if her very words were dancing upon the air. It was easy to forget that she had just swallowed an entire ghost whole.

“I will return to my post at once, Lady Camellia!” Her mistress might say that she was allowed a break, but there were still customers to deal with, trades to be sorted through and boxed up for the next demon bazaar, tokens to cash out and a million other tiny things she had to take care of. So much to do, so little time. No time, certainly, to waste wandering about the gambling halls.

Lady Camellia placed a skeletal hand on Kasu’s head. Her fingers were large enough to crush Kasu’s skull like a grape. “This is why you’re my favourite,” she cooed.

Kasu did not dare speak or move.

Turning to the rest of the patrons, Lady Camellia fluttered the lashes of her single remaining eye. “No need to be alarmed,” she assured them. “Please, continue as you were and do enjoy yourself here at Camellia House.”

With that, she swept out of the hall, the train of her silk dress gliding after her.

While tables were righted and stones returned to their correct sets, Kasu hurried back to the safety of her exchange desk. Fortunately, no one was waiting for her there. She tucked away the sign, grabbed her rag and started polishing the edges of her counter.

A moment later, Arun strode by and slid his tiles across the cherrywood.

“Here. Fifteen tiles, as promised.”

It took everything she had not to snatch them away. Traitor. Oath breaker. Fiend. What would have happened to her if Arun had gambled his tiles and lost? She bet he had not thought of that. She bet he did not even care. Despite everything Kasu had done to help, Arun thought of no one but himself. The spoilt prince probably considered it normal for other people to lie down in the mud so that he could keep his shoes clean. He probably had a thousand maids and servants who would let him walk all over them back in his fancy royal palace.

“I have twenty extra tiles. What do I do with them? Can I cash them out?” Arun asked.

“You get nothing. You were not supposed to be gambling,” she snapped.

“You’re angry,” said Arun.