Page 9 of Between Ghosts and Gods

“Do you have to warp everywhere? You could just use your legs and walk,” Kasu protested as she hurried after the cat’s vanishing image.

“Walking is for lesser beings. I, the great Ruo, shall not sully my paws with the dirt of the street.” Ruo teleported away before reappearing seconds later beneath the towering red archways of the city.

“I hope that human is behaving himself,” Kasu muttered as she followed. If Arun had run off and got himself eaten while she was away trying to help him, she would … well, she would consult the Principles for a heavens-approved way to deal with her outrage.

The cat disappeared around the corner of the next street. Hurrying to catch up, Kasu turned at the bend in the road and almost crashed into them.

“Here we are.” Ruo’s chest puffed out with pride.

They stood before a narrow road shrouded in an unnatural black smoke. The words “Bone Alley” were scrawled upon a crooked sign, beneath a childish drawing of a skull and crossbones. This was definitely the right place.

“Good work, Ruo.” Kasu scratched the patch of fur behind Ruo’s left ear until the cat began to purr with pleasure.

“What are you going to say to this Sage of Ten Paces?” asked Ruo.

“Sage of a Thousand Faces. And I’ll just politely knock on the door and ask him to make me a mask. I’ll pay, of course.” Kasu tapped the money pouch she always kept in the pocket of her dress.

“Then let’s go.”

“Wait,” said Kasu. Before heading into the alleyway, she hurried further down the road to a nearby stall and bought a clay jar of rice wine from a ghost vendor. When making a house call, especially an unexpected one, it was always polite to bring a gift.

Taking a deep breath, Kasu swung her foot over the invisible boundary between the alleyway and the street and plunged into the darkness.

She did not have to walk for long before she emerged on the other side of the smoke. The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of a stone wall with a faded red door in the centre. Kasu rapped her knuckles against the wooden panels. The hinges gave an almighty creak as the door swung open.

She peered inside. “Hello? Excuse me, is anyone home?”

Ruo sniffed at the threshold. The cat could not teleport within enclosed spaces. For once, Ruo would have to use their legs to step inside.

“Let’s just go in!” they hissed.

“We can’t do that! That’s called trespassing!”

Ruo obviously didn’t care what it was called or why they couldn’t just go wherever they pleased. With a huff, they leapt across the doorway and disappeared into the house.

“Ruo, no! Get back here – it’s not polite!” Kasu chased after them.

This is to keep Arun safe. To protect an innocent life from the dangers of Ghost City, she reminded herself. According to the Heavenly Principles, it was the duty of the good to protect the weak. If she didn’t get this mask, she would disappoint the gods.

Only dust and cobwebs greeted Kasu inside. Ruo was nowhere to be found. The further she ventured into the house, the more her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Soon, she was able to make out a set of rickety wooden stairs at the back of the hall and a line of numbered doors along the corridor. A gentle orange light escaped from the gap between the floor and the bottom of one of the doors. Kasu crept closer, her heart beating hard.

She pushed the door open. The hinges gave a soft moan as she stepped into a room full of masks. They hung on pegs, staring down at her from every inch of the walls. Masks made of wood and clay and bone and human skin; abstract masks that were no more than two holes and a carved mouth; masks that looked so real Kasu thought they might have been ripped from the faces of actual living beings.

In the middle of the room stood a small, round table upon which rested the orange lantern that had first drawn Kasu’s attention.

A shadow darted across the wall. Kasu turned, but there was nothing there except a bunch of hideous masks staring down at her with open mouths.

Again, she caught a flash of movement, heard the shuffle of footsteps, but when she whirled around no one was there.

“H–hello? Apologies for entering your home without an invitation, but I would like to speak to you about—”

“Why, hello there!”

Kasu jumped back as someone in long black robes dropped from the ceiling above her. When he picked himself up, he towered over her, at least seven feet tall, his four arms hanging in a manner that reminded her of a praying mantis. Long black hair spilled past his shoulders, framing a simple smiling mask.

“H–hi,” Kasu spluttered.

The Sage of a Thousand Faces tapped a finger against his wooden mask. “Oh my, no – that’s not right. Could you hold on for one moment, please?”