3.15. Albei and Its Ghosts

“Is this wise?” I asked as we walked.

“We left wisdom behind a night ago,” Mumu said, “but we do what we have to.”

“Hunting in the dark, I mean. When we’re all just barely hanging on.”

“The more we let Borba get ahead,” Mumu said, “the harder it’ll be, especially here in Albei. We have to stop him before he can steal any more spells, otherwise he’ll become impossible to hunt.” Her voice cracked then, but she kept going. “He needs to die for what he’s done, and we’ll be the ones to do it. He’s our responsibility, our shame.”

I reminded her: “He fed on the soldier Calfet’s qi not that long ago. He’ll have more energy than we do.”

“A person cannot survive on qi alone,” Mumu replied. “They must eat, drink, and rest too. Believe me, young Eight, he is just as tired as we are. But we must strike before he can establish a place, a... camp in the midst of this wilderness of a city.”

All of that sounded reasonable enough, but I wasn’t convinced—not when the hunters were so exhausted. The rest they’d gotten at the lodge had done them good, but it wasn’t the same as a night’s sleep. And Haol and Tegen were in even worse condition; I didn’t know how they were still moving. They looked wiped—just absolutely nothing-in-the-tank, send-me-home done.

Mumu must’ve seen my reluctance, because she said: “I heard you back at the soldier’s barracks, Eight. I heard you. But now you need to hear me... Borba must die, and I swear by the spirits that it will be our lodge who kills him. This is a family affair, and we will keep it in the family.”

“The grandmaster—” I began.

“She did not love Inleio like we loved him. In this, she is a distant aunt at best.”

“Silasenei seemed more than that to me.”

“Yes,” Mumu said, and I could tell from her eyes that she hadn’t wanted to agree. “No, you’re right, and we will take her help as it comes, but we still need to catch up to Borba as quickly as possible. We cannot wait, not for anyone. If we do, others may die.”

Which was, yeah—that was a real possibility, wasn’t it? Sondo and Silasenei had both gotten involved in the hunt for Borba, or at least they planned to, but it’d take time for their efforts to show. In the meantime, Borba could do whatever he wanted.

Did Mumu even care if some stranger in Albei was murdered? Maybe, but she’d care more that it was a resident of Voorhei who did it. That’d be embarrassing and shameful, and require compensation. Objectively speaking, though, a life in Albei didn’t weigh much in her calculations as a lodge master and human being.

It did in mine though, and she knew it. By this point, Mumu had gotten to know me well, and while I didn’t necessarily believe human life was sacred or anything like that, I did try to do good where I could. That was just how I was raised.

Now, the definition of good was tricky, given my grandparents’ influence, but hunting down a serial killer? There was family precedent for that—the Midnight Man.

There’d been a summer in my previous life when kids had gone missing, and my family got involved. One, my dad had become friends with the father of one of the victims, and two, mi abuelos saw it their responsibility to hunt the dark things hidden from view.

Which is exactly what this is, isn’t it? Am I wrong?

Yuki picked up on my thought. You’re not, but this still might be a wrong decision.

How so?

Your family was well prepared for their hunt, but right now you’re not. We’ve recovered enough qi and mana, but Mumu was right about people needing more than that. Your body’s systems are doing things... the chemistry is beyond us, but we can tell you’re not in good shape.

So, we stop Mumu, I thought.

We can’t, Yuki said. Look at her eyes.

There was determination in them—Mumu was prepared to continue the hunt for Borba without me, and she’d no doubt drag everyone else along with her.

How do we reach her? I asked.

We don’t know, Yuki said.

I was at a loss, so much so I even tried to feel out the Relationships skill, in case there was a hint there, but all I saw was a memory of Helen during one of our arguments. She’d had that stubborn, dug-in look she sometimes got. That was all, though. The memory faded with no resolution and no hints.

And Yuki was right too—my body was sore, feeling like it’d been beaten up. My mind too, from the drugs and spells used on me earlier. I wasn’t in any condition to do anything other than sleep, but besides my family, Mumu was my best friend in this world. Almost family herself.

“Is there anything I can say to get you to rest for the evening?” I asked her. “To tackle this again when we’re all fresh in the morning?”

Mumu shook her head without hesitation. Her stride never wavered, and she signed, “Needs must push us onward.”

###

By the time we arrived back at Albei’s north gate, the sun had set, and a thick layer of clouds had rolled in, covering the city in night’s dark mantle. Light leaked out of the buildings; it appeared and disappeared as doors opened and closed, as it snuck through gaps in shutters and the people behind them passed by.

A chill wind blew, and more than a few people still walked the streets, but the number decreased even as I watched—the people going indoors where it was warm and light.

Not the hunters from Voorhei, though. We’d gathered just inside the gate, and had no plans except for bloody justice—assuming we could find Borba, of course.

The hunters spread out in a defensive formation around Teila and me. In the forest, this would also be the time when they’d also look for signs of our prey’s passage, but it was impossible among Albei’s cobbled streets. That didn’t stop Mumu from trying, but the result was only a shake of her head.

“As I thought, the city confuses my Wild Sense and Tracker talents; they’re of no help.”

I could’ve easily claimed the same of my Uncanny Tracker—that I was too tired to sense anything clearly—but I didn’t. The reality was that Mumu was committed to this endeavor, and if I was going to support her in it, then I needed to be just as committed. No matter how worn I felt. Half-assing anything would hurt rather than help. There was a chance it’d lead to the death of a hunter or bystander if/when Borba decided it was time for another ambush.

So, get your head in the game, Ollie, and focus. Take a breath, and... I opened myself to the land.

It’d been so long since I was among this many people. I’d forgotten how it felt: the hive-like buzz of human lives, wriggling-busy-squirming in burrows made of brick, wood, and stone. In a city, every facet of life was manufactured—the products of human hands, hearts, and minds—working in concert, working in opposition.

There was order, and chaos too. Both were artifacts of intentions made material through everyday actions: the sights, sounds, and smells of human work and human passions.

The area around the gate was dedicated to facilities serving travelers, and I became the lively music spilling out the doors of the inns nearby; the stern entrance to the administrative compound where I’d been held; the cobbled stones worn smooth by the passage of feet and hooves moving towards the stables.

I smelled dung and urine and, for a moment, the breeze stole a whiff of sweet incense as it blew past an open shutter. There was also the heavier smell of blood and raw meat coming from the Butchery; and just under that, the barest hint of rusty-red qi.

I joined with Yuki, as well as the land, and we confirmed the scent as belonging to Borba. We began to walk, and the hunters moved with us—creating another form of order within the larger patterns of the city.

As we walked, the breeze blew stronger, picking up more of Borba’s qi. The buildings grew taller; they gained wooden counters out front that were raised for the evening, doubling as shutters. During the day, they’d be lowered in order to display the shop’s goods. At night, they advertised the goods in stylized artwork

The shops abutted each other, often sharing walls, but there were gaps too that acted as narrow alleys. We went into one, and followed a sequence of lefts and straights, moving between buildings and across streets.

Our traveling formed an irregular box as it turned back towards the gate. The scent of Borba’s qi became stronger.

Up ahead, we thought.

There we found the exit to the narrow, zig zag alley we’d been following. From it, we found a view of the gate, and from the way the qi lingered, we could tell that Borba had stayed here for hours. The odds were, he’d seen Mumu arrive and head to the Hunter’s Lodge. Likely, he’d seen us being carried unconscious, knocked out by the gate smoke.

There was blood on the ground, and we followed the trail to a thin gap between buildings, one barely big enough for Ollie/Eight’s body to fit. There, deep within, we found the ghost of a twelve-year-old girl sitting on the ground next to her body, her arms hugging her knees, weeping into them.

As we approached, the girl ignored us, lost as she was in the unexpected horror of what had happened to her. We noted how the walls had been splashed red with her blood, how her throat had been torn out and her ribcage slashed open. We also saw that her heart was missing.

Borba must’ve taken it, along with her light. Perhaps it was his snack as he’d watched the gate, as he’d watched Voorhei’s hunters wait for Ollie/Eight to be released from custody? Was he smug? Did he revel in their ignorance? The signs didn’t answer our questions, and our talent provided no insights. All that we knew was that we were furious.

Around us, the hunters whispered, but they were known, understood, and trusted. We let them stay dim in our attention. The ghosts patrolling the street, on the other hand, were more worrisome—fierce, giant things looking like the Komodo dragons we’d seen to the north of the city.

The edges of their spirits were still crisp, so they must’ve died recently, perhaps during the last Long Dark. What had that battle been like for them to make it inside the city walls? Or had they died outside and been drawn to the activity?

We sank deeper into the land, and snuck back to the young girl. Carefully, slowly, shielded by our body to keep the ghosts on the street from noticing, we brought spirit mana to hand and pushed it into our favorite hunting knife until it clicked. Then, with even more care, we poked a hole in Tenna’s Gift.

Unfortunately, our combined Ollie/Yuki/Eight consciousness couldn’t speak to the dead, so we separated, and I came back to myself with a quick shiver. The ghosts out front had been enormous—the tops of their heads easily a story tall. They hadn’t noticed me yet, though, and apparently neither had the girl. Her head was still on her knees, her weeping unabated.

My hand clenched around the knife, and it took a moment get my anger under control. A quick look told me that Teila had followed me into the gap between buildings, but all the other hunters were in the alley behind her. None of them could fit, and they were far enough away they’d not be able to see what I planned to do.

Good, I can make this work.

Teila’s eyes widened when she saw the knife in my hand, and quickly signed, “Where danger?”

“No danger,” I said, also signing, “but a secret.”

“Like Yuki?” she signed, making sure her hands weren’t visible to the other hunters.

“Even more.”

Her expression had been wary, which was understandable given the body and the blood, but that didn’t keep her eyebrows from climbing high in surprise. “How could there be more?”

“I can’t explain now, but I will later.”

Teila would soon become the fifth hunter to know that I could speak with the dead. It should be fine, though, since she’d so far safely kept Yuki’s secret.

When I looked deep into her eyes, all I saw was confidence—in herself and in me. Teila might only be nine, but she was my hunt sister through and through. She trusted me with her life, and I could trust mine with her.

“What you’re about to see,” I signed, “only a handful of people know about—Mumu, Kesa, Haol, and Ben. Ikfael too, if that’s a comfort. There’s nothing bad in it; I want you to know that.”

“Does this secret need my help?” Teila asked.

I shook my head. “No, just watch my back. Shield me so that the others don’t see what’s about to happen.”

Teila put her hand on my shoulder. “I will.”

“Thank you,” I said, and turned so that I could focus on the ghost. By then, she’d looked up from her weeping, like she’d heard something dangerous nearby.

“Be easy,” I whispered, infusing the words with my will. “No more harm will come to you.”

The ghost’s head snapped to face me, and she panicked, backing away in a rush. I realized, then, that I’d made a mistake: my knife was still in my hand. Her eyes were locked on it, and even when I hurriedly sheathed it, the girl didn’t stop. She could’ve easily gone through the walls, and parts of her did, but she was so fixed on me she didn’t notice.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I raised my hands to show they were empty. “You have my word on it. We’re here to catch the person who hurt you.”

The girl looked down then, and saw the body on the ground. She froze. “Th-th-that's me.”

“No,” I said, my whispers urgent. “That is the skin your spirit shed. You are you—whole and inviolable—and you will stay that way if we act quickly. My name is Eight, and the people behind me are hunters from Voorhei. We are chasing a murderer. The same murderer who killed you.”

“I’m dead,” she said, her face anguished.

Some ghosts became trapped in their anger, unable to escape. Others got stuck in their sorrow. This young girl’s temptation was clearly the latter, so I carefully stepped forward to get in between her ghost and her body. That way, she was forced to look at me instead.

“Listen to me and focus on my words. You’re going to be all right, I promise. I’m going to help you get to a safer place, but first I need to ask some questions.”

The ghost fearfully looked around. “Where am I? What happened? I’m scared.”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry for keeping you from moving on.” I poured more will into my words, so much so that I felt myself becoming lightheaded. “Please—what’s your name? That’s an easy question, right? Can you tell me that?”

“N-name?” The girl’s ghost seemed to quiet, her gaze settling onto me. “I-it’s Salu. M-my mother gave it to me; she said it was because I’m pretty.”

If I remembered right, a salu was a kind of songbird, too small to hunt. “And your mother, is she nearby?”

“No, the shakes took her last year.”

“The shakes? Is that a disease?”

Salu nodded. “It went around the city. The healers and alchemists found a cure, but they’re always slow getting to the walls. The people who live under them don’t matter as much.”

“I’m sorry to hear that—”

“She’s gone, and now I’m gone too.” Salu’s voice began to rise in a panic. “What will Keth and the others do—”

“Hey, hey, easy now,” I said. “Focus on me and my words. We’re talking, yes?’

The budding alarm in the girl’s eyes eased. “Yes.”

Nearby, I heard the scrape of giant claws on stone. The ghosts of the dragon-like creatures could discover me at any moment, but I had to balance the potential danger with not scaring off Salu’s ghost. Yuki helped by keeping my heartrate down, while I focused on speaking calmly.

“I have to ask about something difficult. The man who hurt you, do know where he went? Where he might be now?”

The girl hunched in on herself, but she kept her eyes on me. “H-he dragged me here from the alley.” She pointed towards where the hunters were gathered. “And went back that way after he... after he killed me. Then, later, he came again—I saw him pass by—and he went the other direction.” She pointed east.

"That's good. You’re doing fine. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

The girl started to shake her head, and then suddenly reached up to touch her chest.

“Don’t panic. He took your heart—”

“My mother’s necklace,” Salu said, interrupting. “I-it’s gone. Oh, my poor mother. My poor family. The gods were never kind to us.”

I checked the body, and didn’t find any jewelry. Borba must’ve taken the necklace, and the only reason he would’ve was because he needed money—for food, a place to stay, and... I didn’t know what else, but I knew that he’d also need a place to pawn or sell the necklace.

Salu placed her face in her hands and began to sob, her shoulders shaking. It tore my heart to see her suffering like that, but I had one more question to ask.

“The necklace, what did it look like?”

Salu didn’t respond, so I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. That was enough to startle her into looking at me, as if seeing me for the first time.

“How are you doing that?” She put one of her hands over mine, and said, “You’re so warm. C-can I? Can I stay with you?”

I pulled my hand away. “No, I can’t allow that, but I will help you find someplace better.”

Salu looked doubtful, and I saw her lips tremble.

“Truly,” I said. “There’s a much more beautiful place waiting for you, where you’ll get the chance to rest and reflect, before reentering the wheel of life.”

My words were apparently enough to distract Salu from her pain. Suddenly confused, she asked, “The gods won’t take me?”

“Oh, yes, it’d make sense if the gods here were involved in what happens after death and—” I stopped, because I realized it was my exhaustion starting to talk instead of me. After a breath to recenter myself, I started again: “I’ve only seen a little bit of what’s on the other side of life, and there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just another journey, and there’ll be those who’ve gone before to guide you.”

Salu looked doubtful.

“I’m telling you I’ve seen it. There was this sugar maker, see? He’d been murdered too, and—” In the distance, I heard the sound of a huge body scraping against one of the buildings. “No, never mind, we don’t have time for that story.”

I tried to recall the feeling, though, from when Bindeise’s ghost had moved on. He’d also suffered in his life, but there’d a sense of gladness and reunion at the end—a smile on his face and relief. So, I closed my eyes and tried to radiate that feeling, to demonstrate it for Salu.

In many ways, it was like when I’d first started learning to communicate with Yuki, when they were still just the uekisheile. Reunion-relief-home. That was the feeling, and I felt it ripple through me, like a stone dropped into still water.

When I next looked, Salu’s ghost was staring, her mouth open.

"That’s what it was like,” I said.

“And I can have that?”

“Yes, but first tell me about the necklace. I mean, that place, that journey, is yours no matter what. I’d just like you to answer my question first, so that we can catch your killer.”

Salu appeared to gather her resolve. She said, “The necklace was meant to be a bridal gift for when the time came for me to marry. The chain was simple, but gold, and the pendant too; it was in the shape of a salu resting on a branch. They were the only precious things we owned.” The ghost moved closer. “Is that enough?”

I nodded. “Yes, it’s enough.”

“And I can—what did you call it? Move on?”

“Yes.” The girl hadn’t noticed, but the process had already started. From behind her, a warm light glowed. I asked, “Did you have a good relationship with your mother?”

Salu’s brow furrowed. “What are you asking? Of course. She was kind, and gave me mashed corn and milk whenever I was hungry.”

“Then close your eyes, and think of her,” I said. “Hold her in your heart.”

Salu did as I told her, and a moment passed, then two, until the faint outlines of a figure appeared. The spirit was hard to make out, but was clearly matronly. More than that, there was so much love pouring out of her, directed at Salu.

“Open your eyes and turn around,” I said.

Salu did, and she jumped up. “Mothe—”

And then the ghost and the light were gone. It was just Teila and me standing in a narrow gap between buildings, the cold remains of a dead body between us.

A notification blinked in mind.

Spirit Arts increased from 9 to 10.

“Eight?” Teila asked, carefully. “Is the ghost gone—did she find her mother?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling drained. “She’s gone. She’s gone, and we have a lead on where Borba will go next.”