For an old woman, You Yu was spry. She swept along the narrow dirt road they were following, barely batting an eye at the flat, verdant fields that hemmed them in on either side. Arms pumping, her strides were long and purposeful, and it was Susanna, with Lian’s short, chubby legs, who was left breathless and struggling to keep up.
“What’s the rush?” she panted, almost jogging beside the older lady.
You Yu tipped her head Susanna’s way and smiled, but she didn’t let up her ruthless pace.
“I haven’t felt this good in a long, long time,” she said. “No aches, no pains. It feels amazing, I feel… alive.” She barked out a laugh. “Isn’t that ironic!”
Susanna shook her head in wonder. She couldn’t ever remember a soul taking to the journey with such vigour, such enthusiasm. She’d known exactly who Susanna was, despite her exact resemblance to You Yu’s granddaughter; she’d come without any complaints or protestations; she’d taken to the idea that her body and all its limitations had been left behind, and was barrelling along like a sixteen-year-old. Not to mention – and this was the kicker – the sun was shining down on them from an unrelenting blue sky. It was almost as if You Yu was happy to be dead!
“There’s a hut not far ahead,” Susanna told her, “We’ll stop there for the night.”
“Oh, we shouldn’t bother with that,” You Yu waved the idea away. “Let’s sleep under the stars.”
Susanna shook her head. “No,” she said. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Yes, I do.”
There seemed no point hiding the truth, not from You Yu.
“No, really. There are… things that come out in the darkness. They’re evil, and if they take you, they’ll tear your soul apart, force you down into the ground and feast on you until you become like them.”
You Yu’s stride faltered for a heartbeat, but then she gathered herself and began soldiering on.
“I see,” she conceded, “But it seems silly to stop so soon. The sun’s still right overhead.”
“It can get dark very quickly,” Susanne countered. “But there isn’t another safe place within reach today. We’ll have to bunk down at the hut.”
They marched along in silence for a little longer, then You Yu sighed. “All right.”
For the first time, Susanna was grateful to arrive early at a safe house and have a little rest. Ordinarily, she liked to get there as close to dark as possible so that the soul would be tired, lulled to sleepiness by the encroaching night, and less keen to interact. But her legs were aching, her heart was pounding and she was drenched in sweat. When the little wooden hut came into sight, she could have wept with relief.
It had earthen walls packed into a slightly higgledy-piggledy wooden frame, with a thick and moulding thatch roof. There was only a small window at the front and a single, low door. The whole thing had a weather-beaten look to it and the facilities inside were basic as usual, but it would keep the wraiths outside, and that was all that mattered.
“This is nice.” You Yu smiled as she walked in the door. “My grandfather had a little place just like this. He used it for fishing and hunting, and getting away from his wife.” She hiccupped a laugh. “At the time, I hated it. There was no hot water and only one small bed, just like this,” she patted the bamboo-framed single bed, “so I’d have to make do with a pallet on the floor. I couldn’t understand why he liked it.” Hands on her hips, she surveyed the small room, taking in the sink with its pump-action faucet, the rugged fire pit and handmade table and chairs. “I do now.”
It was still light outside, but Susanna busied herself with the fire. The air inside was chill and slightly damp, and Susanna wanted to get it going before the shadows started to gather. While she worked, You Yu took one of the stools and sat it in the doorway, watching the sun dip down towards the horizon.
“Do you hear that?” she asked suddenly, and Susanna paused, tilting her head to listen. At first all was quiet, but then she caught it. The high-pitched, eerie keening that always sent chills down her spine.
“I hear it,” she said.
“There are no wolves in this countryside.”
“No,” Susanna agreed. “There aren’t.”
“It’s those creatures you spoke of?”
“Wraiths.” Susanna nodded. “Yes, it’s them. Don’t step beyond the doorway.”
As she’d predicted, the sun had dropped with unnatural quickness and dusk was bleeding into twilight.
“I don’t think I believed you,” You Yu mused. “Well, no, I did believe you, I just didn’t understand.” A pause, then a cheerier tone. “I know you said I don’t need it, but it feels strange not to be preparing for supper. I’m not hungry, I just feel like I should be doing something.”
“That takes a while to go away,” Susanna said. “So I’m told.”
Confident the fire wouldn’t burn itself out, she flopped down on the narrow bed and moaned. Her muscles hurt. Her bones hurt. Even her hair hurt.
“Are you all right?” You Yu was watching her with amusement.
“Sorry.” She sat up but couldn’t hold in her groan.
“Aren’t you used to this?” She was mocking her, and with good reason – Susanna had been out-walked by an old woman.
“I am,” Susanna admitted, “But I’m not usually…”
“Not usually carrying an extra forty pounds around, you mean?” You Yu raised her eyebrows, but then waved Susanna’s sheepish expression away. “I told her! I told her she was too heavy. My granddaughter is too fond of sweets!” A snort, then she gazed at Susanna, a look on her face that was both sad and wistful. She seemed to snap to just a moment later however. “You are stuck in this form while you’re with me?”
“Well, not stuck. But it’s—”
“Change it.” You Yu cut right over her explanation. “I know why you do it, but like I told you before, I know you are not my Lian. It’s nice to see her pretty face one last time, but it’s you I see staring out through her eyes. Change it. What do you look like?”
The thought of ditching Lian’s too short, too unwieldy form was too much to resist. Between one moment and the next, Susanna let herself take on the appearance she thought of as her true self. The one she chose on those rare occasions she had the freedom to choose. She stretched and slimmed, her hair slid up towards her jaw and darkened. The cheekbones of her face became more angular and her chin sharper.
“Much better,” You Yu complimented. “Now your personality matches your face, if you know what I mean.”
Susanna didn’t exactly, but she felt instantly more comfortable, though her muscles still ached.
“Come sit with me.” You Yu motioned to the other stool and Susanna hoisted it over to sit next to the old woman in the doorway. The world beyond was a writhing mass of darkness, the wraiths quietly swooping and diving.
“You are very accepting of all of this,” Susanna said, after a long, peaceful moment.
You Yu shifted her weight on her stool, shrugged shoulders softened by the thick fleece that now protected her from the cold night temperature. “Well, there is no point protesting or complaining, is there? It won’t change what has happened. Besides,” a pause, “I’m not sure that I would change it even if I could.”
“You wouldn’t?” That surprised Susanna.
“I was old,” You Yu reminded her. “My body had shut down, some days I couldn’t even get out of bed. And I was lonely.” This last word was said on a gusty sigh.
“You had your granddaughter,” Susanna said gently.
“I did,” You Yu nodded slowly. “But like I said, Lian didn’t like to see me like this, you see? It made her sad.”
“You didn’t have anyone else?”
“I had my Hui,” You Yu said. “I haven’t seen him for a long time, but I won’t have to wait much longer.”
Susanna knew what she meant – had heard many people say something similar. “When did he die?” You Yu’s flinch made Susanna wince. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out insensitively.
“Eleven years ago,” You Yu said softly. “That’s how long he’s waited for me.”
“How do you know you’ll see him again?”
You Yu turned, and the light from the fire lit up the frown on her face. “You truly don’t know where you’re taking me?”
Susanna chewed on her lip, then shook her head.
You Yu gave a half-shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I believe he will be waiting for me, just as I would wait for him. However long it took.”
I hope you’re right. The words floated in Susanna’s head, but she didn’t give voice to them. She didn’t want to cast any doubts over You Yu’s beliefs, because she wanted them to come true.
“You don’t have someone?” You Yu asked. “Someone who would wait for you, however long?”
No, she didn’t. Ferrymen don’t get that. Not like You Yu meant. She’d felt something, though. Companionship, connection. A sense of not being quite so alone. Now he was gone…
“I don’t have anyone.”
You Yu patted Susanna’s knee in a grandmotherly gesture. Such affection was almost totally alien to Susanna. It made tears sting her eyes as she stared out into the twilight. It was a calm, peaceful scene, but it was still a lie. All Susanna had to do was close her eyes briefly, adjust her perception, and when she opened them again, the true wasteland lay before her.
Even in the growing dark it was easy to make out the myriad shades of red that swept across the landscape. The molten black serpent that imitated a pleasant stream in You Yu’s countryside. The souls, transparent and flickering, nearby and – the only redeeming feature of this view of the wasteland for Susanna – all the other ferrymen. They were stars, always twinkling in the mire. She could look at them and pretend she wasn’t alone.
But she felt it.
To her left, another safe house sat quiet and quiescent. No ghostly soul, no glowing ferryman guide. Tristan’s safe house. His route through the wasteland closely matched Susanna’s, their safe houses nestling side by side almost the entire way. Many nights she’d sat just like this, staring out of a window or through an open doorway, and seen him doing the same. They hadn’t communicated, hadn’t called out to each other – that wasn’t allowed – but they’d been there. Their eyes had shared more than they could have said aloud.
That connection was gone now. All she could do was sit and stare at the spot where he’d been. Wonder what he was doing now. Did he ever spare a thought for her? Still here, still trapped.
Unable to bear the sudden feeling of aloneness, of abandonment, Susanna imagined Tristan sitting right there, where he always had been. She moulded his features, drawing them exactly from memory: his brooding, penetrating gaze so easy to recall. Would he smile, maybe, if he saw her again? Would his eyes light up, giving Susanna a glimpse of the sparkle that she hadn’t seen for so long?
It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t coming back. With a blink, Susanna erased the ghost-like image she’d created.
She was truly alone now. And it was heartbreaking.