A Dance of Restless Spirits by Holly Alasti

Author:Holly Alasti [Alasti, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 46

Xuanyu, 596 years after the death of the first emperor

Chen Mu

The touch of wind on my bare face made me giddy. In the woods on the outskirts of my village, I searched for a stream or spring to wash the sweat and grime from my face. Staring down at the mask clasped in my hand, I felt like a splash of bright red in a forest of snow.

It was wrong. My mother would have killed me. But I didn't care. I was tired of it. Tired of hiding, tired of not knowing, tired of following rules I didn't understand. I wanted to see for myself.

What I looked like.

Why I could never let anyone find out.

And then I caught sight of something peeking out from the bottom of a short cliff. A hole about three paces wide and twice as high. My skin tingled.

I sensed him, somehow, as though his distress had become a living thing, wrapping itself around my ankle and reeling me in. I was a fish on a hook, headed for disaster.

But I wasn't afraid.

I'd always been a fool.

Neither the permeating stench of festering feces nor the inexplicably bone-chilling wind made me hesitate before marching into the sinister cave of doom.

I had to blink a few times before my eyes could see anything but blackness. Little beads of red light blinked at me from the shadows. Rats? Rats, I was used to. Although, I didn't recall any of them ever having red eyeballs.

"What are you?" I called out to them. "A new species of rat?"

Someone answered. But it wasn't the rats.

"They're rat Yao, and if you keep drawing their attention, they're going to bite you, fill you with a paralyzing poison, and then feast upon your internal organs. In other words–keep bothering them. I'd hate to die of boredom."

Turning to my right, I discovered the source of the voice. It belonged to a boy, probably around my own age, thirteen, though it was hard to tell with all the dirt and hair obstructing his face. Strung up with his arms and legs flung out to his sides in a spider web so large it could only be the work of a Yao, he resembled a starfish.

I said the first thing I could think of. "Are you stuck there on purpose?"

"Yes. I hung myself up in this vile, poisonous Yao web for fun. Thought I'd torture and starve myself for a while. You know. To pass the time." He tossed his head, and some of his face became visible behind the hair. The hoarseness of his voice made me think he hadn't used it in a while. "No, I'm not stuck here on purpose, you empty-headed mule."

It was an unusual situation. But I was not opposed to unusual situations.

"Just thought I'd ask. I didn't want to assume."

"Next time, please go ahead and assume."

Next time? Was this scenario likely to repeat itself?

I walked closer. His one visible eye was open and staring–but not at me. I strode up to the web and waved my hand around in front of him.

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