Page 47 of Between Ghosts and Gods

“Why didn’t you trust me to handle it?” Ruo interjected.

Kasu gave the cat a weary look. “Because…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Arun could guess what she was thinking. A curse was not like a ghost or a demon. Kasu had not wanted to rely on the impulses of such a creature.

She had not trusted Ruo to be more than a curse.

Whether the cat had reached the same conclusion as he had, Arun could not be sure. Ruo’s tails flicked, then after a moment, they disappeared, leaving nothing but a bitter wisp of black smoke lingering in the air.

Arun sighed.

“What?” Kasu snapped.

“What?” Arun echoed.

“Nothing.”

Arun sighed again, louder, and sat down in the middle of the forest. “I think I can understand Ruo. I don’t blame you for what you did, but if I cared for someone and that person just gave themself up because they didn’t believe I was capable of protecting them – well, it’s humiliating, isn’t it?”

“That’s not it. You just don’t understand how things work in the under-realm. When I first met Ruo, they told me they’d stick around for the fun of it. Curses are whimsical and unpredictable, and Ruo only hangs around me when there’s food or fun to be had. We’re not— Ruo doesn’t owe me anything. They certainly have no obligation to protect me from Lady Camellia.”

“Well, maybe Ruo wanted to help you.”

Kasu stared at him as if the possibility had never occurred to her.

“Why are you helping me?” asked Arun.

“You know why.”

“Yes, I do. You’re doing it because when your contract is over and you’re free, you hope that saving me will impress the heavens and you’ll be able to reincarnate as a human again. But if something else comes along that will earn you even more points with the gods, or if this investigation causes you to compromise your morals too much, you’ll just throw me by the wayside.”

“A good deed is its own reward. The Heavenly Principles say that it’s wrong to help others with the expectation that you’ll be repaid for it,” Kasu replied, curtly.

“See? Now you’re angry at me. You want me to trust you. You want me to believe that you care about me for more than just selfish reasons, and you’re insulted when I don’t.”

Kasu flushed.

“Ruo is a curse. It’s different,” she mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me how you managed to escape?”

Arun wasn’t sure “escape” was the right word. “I tried touching the mirror that those other ghosts left behind and ended up here.”

While he spoke, something caught Kasu’s eye. She pushed herself onto her tiptoes so that she could see over his shoulder.

Arun turned.

A small hand mirror lay nestled in the hollow of one of the trees, the glass reflecting nothing but its own darkness back at the world.

“What’re you lookin’ at, huh?” the tree grumbled as Kasu reached into it, careful not to hover her hands over the glass, and prised the mirror out.

“It’s a mirror of departure. They’re enchanted mirrors that come in pairs, allowing you to travel between them,” Kasu explained.

“And they left it behind?”

“They must have been in a rush to escape. We could use it to return to Lady Camellia’s chambers and search for the elixir.”

Arun grabbed the mirror from the hollow and smashed the glass over his knee.

“What are you doing?” Kasu didn’t shriek – there was probably some kind of Heavenly Principle about maintaining proper speaking volume – but she did stare at him as though he had suddenly grown a third eye.