Page 84 of Between Ghosts and Gods

Kasu searched the garden for Arun, but all she could find were other officials. She grabbed an empty plate and headed towards a woman at the food table.

“Hi.” She smiled at the woman, taking note of the blue glass in her hand. That meant she was from Shusa’s household.

The woman jumped as if she had been stung. Glancing at Kasu, she covered her nose and mouth with the sleeve of her dress and hurried away.

Well, that was rather unfriendly. In fact, though perhaps it was just Kasu’s imagination, it felt as though people were looking at her. She’d noticed several attendants whispering behind their sleeves. Every time Kasu caught someone’s eye, they quickly turned away as if they hadn’t been staring just moments ago.

Was she doing something wrong? Did she have food on her face? Kasu knew she wasn’t as beautiful or graceful as the people from the heavens, but did she really look that odd? Her throat suddenly felt awfully dry, but all the drinks were handled by General Shusa’s staff, and trying to flag down a server was proving impossible. Before she could muster up the courage to hunt down a servant, Ruo barrelled into the back of her legs.

“Kasu! I hate it here! Everyone is so stiff and boring. When can we go back to the under-realm?” they moaned loudly. Too loudly. Everyone within a ten-foot radius probably overheard them.

“Ruo!” Kasu hissed, mortified.

“What? I’m right. Even Arun wants to leave. He told me so himself.”

“Where is he?” Kasu’s grip on her plate tightened.

Ruo grinned. “Poking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Kasu stiffened. What in the three realms was Arun doing now?

“Ah, the guest of honour! How are you enjoying yourself?” General Shusa strode towards them, planting himself in the middle of their conversation.

It was hard to look at the general without feeling overwhelmed. Every time the god stood close, Kasu was reminded of how impressive he was – his long list of accomplishments, his virtues, his dedication to the Heavenly Principles.

The god cleared his throat, and Kasu realized she had been staring at him without answering.

“G–great. It’s great.” Her cheeks burned.

“I’m glad to hear it. I have a special request for you, in fact.” The god smiled.

Kasu snapped to attention. “Really?”

“The Celestial Empress has promised to grace us with her presence. She said she wished to thank you personally for the work you have done. When she arrives, I’d like you to attend to her.”

Kasu’s head was spinning. Just one week ago, she could never have dreamed of ending up here, in the heavens, speaking with General Shusa of all people, and now she would meet the Celestial Empress, ruler of the heavens? Could such amazing things happen to a ghost?

“Yes! I mean, it would be an honour!”

General Shusa clapped her on the back, his eyes twinkling with a boyish excitement. Kasu swore she had seen that look on his face somewhere before, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on where.

No, she remembered now. It was the same look he had worn in the portrait that had once adorned Lady Camellia’s chambers.

Chapter Forty-Two Arun

Arun had never wanted to be the kind of person who couldn’t accept the truth. Even if it was inconvenient, even if it was unpleasant, he hoped he would have the courage and grace to accept things as they were.

Last night had been… Arun didn’t know how to describe last night, or the cocktail of emotions that accompanied it. His breathless awe at the memory of Kasu’s face illuminated by the moon. His embarrassment when he remembered his tears. The way his heartbeat quickened when he thought of how close their faces had been, their legs pressed against one another, and his head on Kasu’s shoulder.

The guilt when he remembered that he was supposed to be grieving for his mother. Maybe she really was a thief, but there were unanswered questions that still bothered him. Questions that refused to be left behind in the under-realm.

The wolf’s last moments haunted him. Was it always like that? Ruo had described the moment they had killed their own target as a triumph. A rebirth. Not filled with the pain and regret Arun had witnessed in his mother’s curse as it had crumbled away.

A part of him wondered if he would ever be able to forget it. Perhaps witnessing the wolf’s lingering pain was its own kind of curse.

The party was the same tedious affair Arun had endured a million times before, filled with the same kind of pompous, self-absorbed people. The only difference between General Shusa’s party and the ones his father held was that his father’s often featured juggling bears.

The night’s entertainment moved on to a play about the creation of the three realms. Compared to the shows performed in the under-realm, this one was far more professional.