Page 78 of Between Ghosts and Gods

Kasu didn’t know the history between the two kingdoms, but she thought it better to steer clear of any messy mortal world politics. With a small cough, she deftly changed the subject to the design of General Shusa’s estate.

Flowering plants bloomed beneath ornamental elm trees. A path of smooth stone ran through a large, enclosed courtyard and past a pond filled with lilies and fish. Kasu absorbed it all in awe.

The air was so fresh and the flowers so vibrant and beautiful. An unfamiliar warmth beat against her skin. The sun. How long had it been since she had last seen the sun? Since she had stood in its radiance and marvelled at the clouds drifting across the blue sky?

A hollow, aching sadness swooped through her chest. It felt almost like hunger. Like an old scabbed-over longing that reached down to her bones. She had waited so long for this day. She had worked so hard and endured so many things.

Now finally, finally, she was here.

As soon as General Shusa returned, she would ask him to allow her to be reborn in the mortal world. To rejoin the cycle of souls. Even if she had to spend a few lives as a cat or a donkey or somebody’s herding dog, she did not care. One day, she would work her way up to being human again.

A small house on the edge of an apple orchard. The smell of blossom perfuming the air. Someone waiting for her on the porch of her house. Someone waiting for her to come home.

“Kasu?” Ruo nudged her knees.

“I’m fine.” She hastily blinked away her tears before they could fall.

“I don’t see what’s so great about this place. It’s just a bunch of fancy grass,” Ruo muttered, though their gaze lingered on the bright fish swimming lazily in the pond.

In the shadow of the stone columns, scribes carrying stacks of paper hurried from one building to the next. Kasu tracked their long strides as they bustled about. Like the maids, they were probably people who had once been average mortal humans, called to the heavens for their righteousness.

And Arun’s mother had been one of them. At least, until she had been exiled. Or rather, until she had fled with the reincarnation wheel. Kasu tried to imagine what it was like to live here, to spend every day in the light of the sun and smell the gloriously fresh air, to wake up to the sound of birdsong and go to sleep beneath a blanket of stars. The work seemed hectic, but she bet it was fulfilling to spend every day making sure humans in the mortal realm were safe – nothing like her work at Camellia House.

She wondered what could have made Arun’s mother want to throw such a life away.

Orro led them past the courtyard and into a large dining room. Someone had likely informed the palace that General Shusa had guests, because the table was already laid with an array of dishes – fluffy white rice, noodles of various hues and thickness served with a variety of sauces, leafy vegetables slathered in soy sauce and carrots cut into the shape of stars, roasted yams and straw mushrooms served with snap peas, fruits of every colour and kind, and desserts made from agar. The soft scent of jasmine wafted from the teapots. Delicate osmanthus wines and freshly squeezed fruit juices sat in crystal decanters in the middle of the table.

“I thought the Heavenly Principles were against flavour.” Even Arun was taken aback by such a spread.

Kasu shook her head. How could he have spent so much time with her and still understand so little? “The Heavenly Principles discourage eating food that is rich in fat, salt or sugar not only out of consideration for one’s health, but because becoming too attached to food distracts the mind and body from what is truly important: the careful meditation of the Heavenly Principles. For one-off celebrations, it’s OK to indulge.”

“Indulge.” Arun smiled, though it was a tense, strained thing. “Careful: indulgences are for demons.”

Kasu scowled at him. General Shusa had ordered this feast, so, surely, it was fine. There was no way the general would do anything that went against the Heavenly Principles.

“Do you have any eyeballs?” Ruo asked Orro.

“Ruo, behave!” Kasu hissed, horrified.

“It was just a question!”

The servant decided against answering. “Please, do help yourselves.” He gestured to the spread, though Kasu could not help but notice how he subtly leaned away from them as he did, as if they were a bad smell he could not escape.

They sat around the table while Orro and the maids stood to attention at the edges of the dining room. It was slightly uncomfortable feeling the eyes of a dozen attendants watching them eat. Kasu wanted to call them over and invite them to feast as well, but the moment she met one of the women’s eyes they would quickly look away. Eventually, she stopped trying.

General Shusa ordered them to serve us, she reasoned. I would only be putting them on the spot if I asked them to eat too.

Ruo bemoaned the lack of meat and tried to go back to the courtyard to catch some fish. Only Kasu catching them by the scruff stopped them from breaking out of the room and killing General Shusa’s prized celestial carp.

“Come on, at least try the rice.” She dragged the cat to the far end of the table.

They needed to sit down and talk anyway. She was not looking forward to telling Ruo everything she had learned from the elixir Lady Camellia had given her, but she owed them enough to tell them the truth.

“Ruo,” she said in a serious tone. “Do you remember when you were born?”

The cat jumped onto the chair next to Kasu. “Do you?”

That was a fair point.