Page 46 of Between Ghosts and Gods

“I–I’m fine.” Kasu took a step back.

Like dropping hot coals, Arun released her. “Good! That’s good.” His cheeks burned.

“Ran away, ran away like a cowaaaaard,” the trees mumbled and sighed.

Kasu ignored them. “Lady Camellia dumped me out here. What about you? How did you get out? Where’s Ruo?”

Before Arun could reply, a wisp of smoke wafted past his ear, followed by a flicker of darkness, and Ruo appeared before them, body pressed to the ground and breathing hard.

Kasu rushed to the cat’s side. “Ruo! How did you escape? Are you OK? Did Lady Camellia do anything to you?”

“The window in her office. I flung myself out of it and then warped here. I’d better avoid Camellia House from now on.” Ruo tried and failed to appear unbothered. Arun had seen Lady Camellia swallow a ghost whole; he couldn’t blame Ruo for wanting to avoid the demon lord’s ire.

Kasu’s expression coloured with guilt. She looked the same whenever she was thinking of the Heavenly Principles and beating herself up about them.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the cat. “I shouldn’t have let you enter Camellia House with us.”

Ruo pulled their lips back and flashed their fangs.

“Why did you reveal yourself?”

There was a tension in the air that Arun didn’t understand. Something must have happened when Lady Camellia took Kasu and Ruo away. But Kasu had told him that she was fine. She was fine, wasn’t she? She had to be.

“It’s all right.”

“It’s not!” Ruo growled. “Your contract! Three hundred more years?”

“Wait,” said Arun. “What are you talking about?”

Kasu ignored him. “And what should I have done instead?” She asked Ruo. “Let you handle it?”

“I would have made something up.” Ruo huffed.

“You were terrified. You were going to tell her all about me anyway.”

“I slipped up and accidentally mentioned your name, but I wouldn’t have told her you were there. Why would you think that?”

“What are you two talking about?” Arun shouted. “What about Kasu’s contract? Three hundred years? Did Lady Camellia—”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“I thought the Heavenly Principles forbade lying.”

“The Heavenly Principles also say not to involve yourself in the business of others,” Kasu said, waspishly.

“Good thing I don’t care about them, then.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s fine. My contract with Lady Camellia was extended, but this will just give me more time to do good deeds and devote myself to the Heavenly Principles. Perhaps I should think of this as a blessing in disguise. It will certainly teach me patience.”

Never had Arun wanted to shake sense into someone so badly. Even the monks serving in General Shusa’s temples were not this stubbornly devout. Or stupidly self-sacrificing. Kasu had set the bar for herself so high that she would never be able to reach it. She would run herself into the ground trying, and then punish herself when she inevitably failed.

It was all so ridiculous. So infuriating.

“I should have done something too,” Arun muttered.

“If you had, she would have killed you. Lady Camellia only spared me because I belong to her. A pet dog that wriggles into the hen house can be disciplined. A stray fox has to be killed.”

“Yes but, three centuries? Isn’t there some way to shorten it? Or break the contract altogether?”