Page 116 of The Girl with a Thousand Faces
Muffled shouts filtered through the broken window, capturing Mercy’s attention. She eased over with the corpse still in her arms, acutely aware of her rapidly drying skin despite the cool dampness of the basement, and peered out.
The ground-level street outside was typical of Kowloon: dark, a little dank, strung with wires and strewn with rubbish. The handful of moldering decorations for the Hungry Ghost Festival did little to lighten the view.
There was more space than in most of the district, though, because this side of the triad building faced into Kowloon’s one courtyard area. In decades past,it had been the center of the fort; these days, it was a narrow rectangle of concrete, open to the sky, with buildings clustering tight on all sides.
And in the center of that courtyard was none other than Erika, surrounded by a group of four triad men. Her hands were held high, her face pale as she spoke rapidly. They held choppers, circling her like sharks. There were people peering out of windows, or looking through cracked doors, but no one came out or interfered. Not for triad business, and not during such a spiritually dangerous evening.
She came with you, to find me, Mercy said to Bao, the realization unfolding.Despite the danger, and the risks.
Bao lashed his tail.
I won’t let them hurt a friend.Mercy launched herself up and out through the basement window with all the grace of a vengeful spirit. Her cat followed, growling low in his throat.
The nighttime air was sticky with humidity and the darkness was heavy with spiritual energy. The full force of the Hungry Ghost Festival filled the space around her, writhing with yin energy that only spirits could sense. Wards were hung above every window and doorframe, which normally would have been painful for spirits, yet she was barely aware of them at this distance.
The triad men turned abruptly as Mercy clambered unglamorously from the broken basement window. Their eyes widened and one of them said, hoarsely, “Is that Chan’s spirit? What the hell!”
Erika stiffened, eyes going wide behind her glasses.
Mercy threw her head back and shrieked. It was an intuitive cry, one embedded in her memory. The haunting, anguished wail of a child left to die before her time.
The typhoon answered, as she knew it would.
Heavy clouds stirred to a sudden boil. The wind accelerated, rattling shutters and signs and buildings alike. Thunder rolled like a stampeding horde and the heavens opened abruptly, pouring forth torrential rain. The deluge was a welcome relief to Mercy’s skin. She’d been starting to blister, even under cover of night.
That’s better, she said, then set down her old shell of a body and walked toward Erika. Rain lashed in sideways, and it was almost like being in water again.
The triad enforcers shouted, brandishing weapons at her approach. Two of them Mercy recognized as her tormentors, from earlier in the day, and a wash of searing anger suffused her. She must punish them, catch them, drown them all—
No. Mercy couldn’t breathe deeply to calm herself, so she ground sharkish teeth and shook her head to disperse the surge of ghostly fury. Be calm, be rational. She needed only to help her friend; that didn’t have to mean killing these men. They could not harm her anyway, not anymore.
To their credit, they at least tried. The first one swung his watermelon chopper with full-body force. The blade cut through her atrophied flesh, but there was nothing to damage, no blood to flow. Her arm healed almost immediately. The second pulled a peachwood dagger, while the third brandished a pair of fu talismans.
Mercy caught the chopper blade with one hand, the sharp edge pressed hard into her dead palm, and flung it away. The other two were slightly more dangerous, andcouldhurt her, in theory.
But she wouldn’t allow that. A stomp of her foot sent hurricane winds spiraling across the courtyard, knocking over the man with the peachwood dagger and the man brandishing fu talismans. They tumbled and rolled like leaves, losing their precious anti-ghost items in the process.
The fourth man stood frozen and alone, too cowed to move.
Go home, little boy, she said, and bared her teeth.
He turned and fled, yelling swear words.
Bao, who had not yet changed from his kitten form, watched with impassive curiosity. He seemed to recognize that Mercy did not need him, and so had not expended the energy. For once, she was strong enough to stand on her own.
In moments, all of them were gone.
Mercy allowed it. She did not pursue, or wreak death. The rage was still within and around her, but it was merely the storm for which she was the eye, and she could be calm at its center. Shewouldbe calm.
The sense of control was freeing.
Are you alright?Mercy walked over to Erika, quieting the storm around them into mere rain. For now.Did they hurt you?
“Holy shit!” Erika’s eyes were wide as saucers. She fell to her knees on the concrete, drenched and shivering. “Oh my gods. Are you—”
Your old friend Chan, Mercy answered, gently.This is my true form, as I really am. That body over there contained me for many years, but it is not me. Do you understand?
Erika stared at her, mouth working but no words coming out.
