Jin glanced at her wrist as they moved at a steady pace "I'm curious about that myself," she said, trying not to listen to the creature's pitiful cries until they finally and truly faded in the distance.
They passed others like it. It was hard to tell if they had been men or women; they all seemed alike, though some were even more grotesque than the first one. One had no less than three knots tied in its neck. Another's head was so large that it hung to its waist, though the creature seemed to be better off to the extent that it could stand on two stumpy legs and move upright with a very slow, shuffling gait. All had wrinkled skin and misshapen limbs, all were searching for things they would not find, whatever they might be, because there was simply nothing there. They shrank away as Jin and her companions approached.
"Why are these afraid of us?"
Ling smiled. "You're a demon now and these people are in hell, of course they're afraid of you. As was the first one, until it because fixated on what it thought we had, rather than what it thought you were. We have nothing they want."
Almost nothing, Jin thought, after they had trudged to the top of a small ridge. On the other side there was an unmistakable flash of green. Jin looked closer. It was a tree. A fruit tree of some sort, though Jin did not have a clue what sort of fruit it might be. The golden fruit hung ripe and round and heavy; when Jin sniffed the air she could smell its heady scent. The aroma made her a little hungry herself; she could only imagine what it would to any of the starved spirits who came near it.
From the rise she could see that there were hungry ghosts gathered around the tree, which made perfect sense. What didn't make any sense at first was that they were neither mobbing the tree nor trying to pull the fruit from its branches. Instead they mostly milled about in a rough circle around the tree as if an invisible fence kept them from approaching the tree. It wasn't until they were a little closer that Jin saw why.
Demons guarded the tree.
Jin counted ten of them, each as black as coal and about seven feet high and armed with a vicious-looking trident. As Jin watched, one of the hungry ghosts, apparently overwhelmed by the scent and sight of the fruit, made a frantic crawl toward the tree, but two of the demons simply jabbed it with their cruel forks, forcing it back. They did not pursue the ghost once it retreated, nor strike at anyone else unless they got too close to the tree. The rest of the time they simply waited, calmly leaning on their tridents planted firmly on the bare, hard-packed ground. Jin stopped, and stood watching the scene for a moment.
"Rather cruel of them, don't you think?" Ling said, glancing at Jin.
Now Jin smiled an unpleasant smile. "You know I do. And by the way, don't be coy. You're not very good at it."
The dragon-girl actually blushed, but she didn't back down. "It is not my place to instruct Guan Yin, even in her current limited form. Yet misplaced mercy in this place can do more harm than good. The demons are simply serving their appointed role."
"You think I don't know that?"
"Your pardon," Ling said, "but you can understand why one would wonder."
Jin shrugged. "That's fair enough. Yet right now I'm more curious about the tree than the demons. If such a thing would exist in this place, then of course demons would guard it. What I don't understand is why it's here."
Jin started down the slope toward the tree and Frank and Ling followed her, but now Frank was looking puzzled.
"Isn't it obvious? The hungry ghosts spend their entire existence looking for drink and nourishment in various forms, and here they find it, only to be denied. It's an intensifying of the basic punishment by teasing them with what they cannot possess."
Jin had to admit that, yes, that was exactly the way things appeared, and it certainly was in perfect accord with the purpose and operation of a hell as she had come to understand the concept. Yet her instincts told her that there was more to the matter of the forbidden fruit than what appeared on the surface.
"Maybe so. And also maybe it's just a coincidence that the thread has led us here, but I just don't think so."
Ling looked around. "You know where the thread leads? I cannot see it clearly in all this confusion."
"I can," Jin said. "He's right there." She led them on.
That was the first difference that Jin recognized -- he. Jin thought of this hungry ghost as a 'he' and not an 'it.' At first glance he didn't look any different from all the other hungry ghosts gathered around the tree: a distorted head. Huge, staring eyes, misshapen limbs, wrinkled, desiccated skin.
The crowd of hungry ghosts parted around them as they got closer to the tree, though not without considerable wailing and hissing, and the crack of dry joints and skin as they moved aside. The demons guarding the tree glanced at them with some curiosity but nothing more than that, and they didn't fail their duty when another tormented ghost made an attempt at the fruit.
Unlike the other ghosts crawling about, this ghost sat on a rock as he stared hungrily at the tree. Yet he did not reach for it, nor try to attack the tree with the others. He simply sat there, his grotesque form arrayed in a position that, if not identifiable as comfort, at least gave the poor wretch some support as it regarded the tree.
"Wait here," Jin said. "If any of the ghosts try anything with you, kick them or something."
"Do not concern yourself about us," Ling said. "Just be careful."
Jin didn't need the advice. She was being very careful indeed or, rather, cautious. She sensed something greatly important and yet very delicate was happening, and she did not want to make a misstep. She needed to speak to the ghost and, more than likely, touch it -- though she was certainly not looking forward to that part. Yet she strongly suspected his reaction to her demon form might make both of those goals very difficult. Yet she could not assume her normal form, not in that place.
I need...
Jin knew what she needed, and in another moment she had it: her body changed from demon to Hungry Ghost. Jin felt her head droop on a long, scrawny neck, felt the hot sand burn her and felt, for a moment, a thousand years worth of hunger and thirst and longing, but she knew it was an illusion. In another moment she could function, albeit poorly.
This is interesting.
Jin wasn't especially surprised -- once your body has transformed from human to demon one time, nothing else it might do seemed especially strange -- but it was the first time this had happened. Jin wondered if this was merely because she needed it to happen, then decided none of that mattered. Whatever had transformed her, it was all part of the same thing. As with her transformation to demon, she could only hope and believe it served her purpose, and not another's.
Jin sat down on the rock next to the ghost.
"My rock!" said the ghost.
Jin shook her head, and immediately regretted it, as her head swayed too and fro across her flat, dried out breasts like a pendulum. "Do you really care about the rock?"
The ghost frowned at her. After a moment he turned that stare back toward the tree. "Can't drink it. Can't eat it. It burns my butt. Still mine, but I don't care. Sit. Go. Don't care."
"What do you care about?"
"The tree. Mine. Fruit. Oh, how sweet the scent. Mine..." He turned to stare at her again. "What are you?"
Jin blinked eyes as large as his. "Just one more poor wretch banished to this place, like you."
"No," he said. "Not like me at all."
"Oh? Don't I look like you? Like everyone looks at this place?"
"Look is not be. I have been here...without for long, long, long -- " The word seemed to get stuck in his throat and struck himself hard on the side of the face, cracking the skin. The wound leaked some dry powder, but no blood. "Long time. No one. Ever. Asked another what they care about. Everyone cares for themselves alone. You are different. Like him."
"Like who?"
The hungry ghost looked back at the tree. "I don't know. He comes and talks to me. I don't know why he comes. I don't know why you're here. I just want the fruit. It's mine."
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"What would you do with the fruit?"
"I would be happy."
"How? Would you eat it?"
"Silly thing, whatever you are. Of course not. Then it would be gone. Not mine."
"So you're hungry and you cannot eat the fruit."
"Mine," he repeated after a while, as if he hadn't heard. "It's mine. I want it."
"Why?"
The hungry ghost's face distorted. Jin was both horrified and puzzled when she realized he was trying to smile. "You sound. Him. Like him."
Jin had a hunch and followed up on it. "What does he look like?" Jin asked.
"Darker than a demon. Sneaky. Talks to me. Makes me listen. I get angry, I get more hungry than I have ever been and his words mean nothing. Then he goes away, and I think about what he said. I like it when he's gone, but I like the fact that he was here. It is strange... Are you trying to make me listen too?"
"No. I'm the one listening," Jin said. She was also trying very hard to understand what she was hearing.
You don't suppose...
"I want the fruit," the hungry ghost said, and Jin forced her attention back to where it needed to be.
"What's your name?" Jin asked.
The ghost looked puzzled. "Name? I can't give that to you."
Jin almost laughed. "Never mind. So. If you had the fruit you wouldn't eat it. What would you do with it?"
It looked at her if she were insane. "I would keep it!"
"You can't. In this heat the fruit would rot in your hand within a day. You can't hold it and you won't eat it. What good is the fruit to you?"
"I would keep it! Keep it sweet, keep it forever -- "
"No," Jin said firmly, "you wouldn't."
The hungry ghost didn't say anything for a little while, and Jin thought at first it had turned its attention back to the tree and forgotten she was even there. Then he spoke again. "I know," he said. His voice was clear and distinct. "I can't keep anything. I try and I try and I just can't."
Even later Jin wasn't sure if she'd touched the ghost's hand because she needed to or simply because it sounded so sad. It flinched away from her, but in that instant Jin had everything she needed. Strangely enough, it was what she suspected even without the touch.
"The fruit is to be eaten," she said. "Or not. In neither case is the fruit the problem. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes," he said softly. "I want everything and I have nothing. I can't get the thought out of my head. That's the one thing I do want to give up, but I don't know how. Strange, isn't it? For someone who has nothing at all?"
"Not strange at all. You look thirsty. I know where you can get a drink that will actually help you. Would you like to go there?"
"More than anything," he said.
"Good, because you're already on your way," Jin said, and in another moment she was alone on the rock. She sat there for a while, gazing at the fruit on the tree. Frank and Ling finally approached her.
"The person is gone," Frank said. "Do you expect Shiro to appear nearby?"
"Shiro's already been here. He's the reason that there was any need to come," Jin said.
"What do you mean?" Ling asked.
Jin took a deep breath. "I mean Shiro came here many times, and while he was here he taught a hungry ghost that, no matter how hungry or thirsty he was, no amount of food or drink would satisfy him."
"That can't be -- " Frank started, but Jin didn't let him finish.
"I touched the ghost and I saw who came here to teach him. It was Shiro. There is no doubt. His influence was not altogether positive, but that's something I need to think about later. For now, I know he helped that man."
"Why would Shiro do that?" Ling asked.
"Good question." Jin looked thoughtful, and Frank and Ling looked nervous.
"What are you going to do?"
"The only thing that makes any sense to me whatsoever," Jin said. "I'm going to talk to Shiro."
(())
Chapter 23
Jin wasn't surprised that Frank and Ling tried to talk her out of talking to Shiro. She was surprised that they positively would not shut up on the subject. They kept hammering at her through the long walk back. Jin thought of having them open a doorway to get them all back sooner, but wondered if, perhaps, it was better to let them talk themselves hoarse.
She had apparently misjudged their capacity for nagging. When they passed beyond the doorway and into the corridor, leaving the Hell of Hungry Ghosts behind, they were still talking when Jin took the opportunity to revert to human form. Her demon form's horns tended to make her head itch.
"Did not Guan Yin Herself forbid you to seek Shiro out?" Frank asked.
"I am Guan Yin Herself," Jin pointed out. "A fact you two seem determined to forget. Besides, the answer is 'no,' she did not. She simply said it was a bad idea."
"And in your human form you think it a good idea to go against your own Divine Self's advice?"
"I've already spoken to him twice and the world didn't end," Jin said.
"Close enough," muttered Ling, but Jin ignored that.
"There are a lot of reasons Shiro might have done what he did, but I have to know the real one. Can you think of any other way?"
"We could beat it out of him," said Ling.
"Probably fun, but not necessary. He knew I'd find out what he did in the Hell of Hungry Ghosts. In fact, I think he wanted me to know."
"I still say that seeking him out is madness," Frank said. "Your mortal form is clouding your judgment. I'm sorry, but I must say what I think is true."
"Noted," Jin said. "Now drop it."
To her surprise, they actually did drop the subject, though not without one last try. "Will you at least allow us to accompany you?" Ling asked.
"He certainly won't talk to me with you two hovering around. I'll call you if I need you, but I can take care of myself if that proves necessary."
"So you say," Frank said, but there were no further argument from either of them. "What are your instructions?"
"For now? Find Shiro again and let me know where he is."
"As you wish," Ling said, and they disappeared, leaving Jin to emerge into the Gateway to All the Hells alone. She passed the Guardians but didn't say anything. She was about twenty feet away when something occurred to her, and she turned back.
"I know that Shiro made many trips to the Hell of Hungry Ghosts. Has he been doing that anywhere else? And surely you can tell me that without giving away his current location."
PLEASE DEFINE 'MANY,' IMMANENT ONE.
Jin sighed. "Are you two going literal on me?"
WE'RE SIMPLY SAYING THAT 'MANY' IS A CONCEPT WITH MORE THAN ONE INTERPRETATION. WE WANT TO KNOW YOURS.
Jin thought about it. "All right. How about 'more than three separate trips within the space of a month.'"
There was a long silence that Jin took to mean the two were conferring. Finally they spoke to her again. HE HAS DONE SO FOR BOTH THE FIRE JAR HELL AND THE MOUNTAIN OF NEEDLES.
Jin thought that, between the hell that was nothing but fire and black sand and the Hell of Hungry Ghosts, she had visited enough hot places for a while and the thought of a "Fire Jar Hell" did not entice. "Show me the entrance to the Mountain of Needles. I won't ask if Shiro is there, though if you can comply I'll assume he isn't. Is this acceptable?"
YES.
Jin thought that she should be getting used to the way inanimate statues moved without seeming to do so. After a moment -- and it was barely more than that -- the two Guardians were standing flanking another doorway that looked just like all the others, except for the one Jin had marked. There were no markings here, and Jin was fairly certain she had never been this way before.
ONE THING, IMMANENT ONE -- WE WOULD ADVISE TAKING DEMON FORM BEFORE YOU OPEN THE DOOR AT CORRIDOR'S END.
Another dangerous hell. Why do I ever assume anything different? "Thanks," Jin said aloud, "I'll do that."
Though as Jin entered the doorway she thought about the nature
of hells. They weren't always physically dangerous, or at least not all the time -- Medias certainly wasn't. Some even seemed outwardly pleasant, such as Michiko's Japanese garden. Yet however they looked or felt, they were always of an appropriate nature given their task. That made her wonder at hells like Medias, which seemed to serve different purposes at different times if the Lemon Man and Buddy and even Joyce were any indication, while a place like the Hell of Hungry Ghosts was more specialized. Maybe this meant that more extreme cases called for more extreme measures.
Or maybe it just means that Hell isn't fair.
Jin didn't know the answer. She had a very hard time conceiving that there was a part of her that did know. Jin, musing, almost forgot to switch forms before she emerged from the other end of the corridor, but one glance beyond the door had her in full demon mode before she stepped across the threshold. This was a very good thing, considering what she stepped in.
Needles?
Needles, yes, but for some reason she hadn't taken the description of the Guardians literally. Now Jin realized her mistake as she stood at the base of a mountain every bit as huge as the one in the Ninth Hell, and it was covered in spikes, from small ones no bigger than rose thorns on the bare earth, to massive spikes thicker than her waist and a dozen feet tall. There was almost nothing else around -- no other mountains, no other landscapes, nothing. Just the mountain. Everything beyond it passed into haze and smoke. Jin started to summon Ling, then belatedly remembered their little talk...how long ago? She'd forgotten that part.
"Frank!"
In a moment Frank was there. "You summoned me, Jin?"
"What is the purpose of the Hell of the Mountain of Needles?"
"Well, strictly speaking it's not a hell at all. Or rather, it exists in many hells simultaneously. People are forced to climb it before being cast into the deeper parts of the hell."
"So someone here could be on his way to practically anywhere?"
"As long as by 'anywhere' you mean the blackest, deepest hells? Yes."
"That is interesting. Thank, you Frank."
All the Gates of Hell Page 22
