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She’d seemed distracted. If she was distracted, that meant she might make a mistake. Jihoon didn’t give himself time to think; he pushed through the branches, following Miyoung deeper into the forest as the sun waned.

29

AS SHE MADEher way through the forest, the first flake fell onto her cheek, melting against her skin.

Big things always happen at the first snow.Halmeoni’s words rang in her head. But they sounded like a warning to Miyoung now.

She ran her hands over the rough bark of trees as she walked. It wasn’t to help with balance. She was light on her feet on the craggy terrain. But she liked the physical connection with the flora around her. It gave her comfort, anchored her, when she felt like she was wavering. And she needed all the support she could get tonight.

Her phantoms swung through the trees, dancing from branch to branch, trying to break her resolve.

She ran her fingers through her tangled hair. It stuck to her temple with dried sweat despite the cool winter air.

Nara stepped into Miyoung’s path, stopping her short. The young shaman wore a colorful hanbok, the bright colors a sharp contrast to the grays and browns of the bare trees around them.

“Oh, Seonbae,” Nara murmured, pity saturating her eyes as they shifted around Miyoung, taking in the spirits. “Come, the moon is rising.” She grabbed Miyoung’s arm, her fingers digging into skin.

“Your instructions weren’t very clear.”

“We needed a place with the right energy.” Nara pulled hard on Miyoung’s arm, so she had to stumble after the shorter girl.

There was a space of earth cleared out below a great oak tree that still held on to a smattering of leaves.

A long altar sat beside the thick trunk, littered with trays of fruit, chestnuts, and rice. Copper bowls held sand and incense. Candles flickered, lighting the faces of a dozen paintings, each staring at Miyoung with dark eyes.

“Light an incense.” Nara held out a long stem.

Miyoung obeyed.

Nara picked up a bronze cup and held it out.

Miyoung glanced inside, half expecting the concoction of water and ash from before. It was wine.

“It’s to help cleanse you,” Nara explained. “We need to connect to the gods, and you need to purify before we can do that.”

“Nara, I want to believe this will work, it’s just that last time...” She trailed off, and the shaman nodded with understanding.

“You’re not sure if you can trust me after what happened last full moon.”

“This is my life we’re messing with,” Miyoung said.

“I can’t make promises, Seonbae. And I don’t think this will work if you don’t trust me.”

Miyoung hesitated. Considered turning around and walking away. But the hunger in her gut made her whole body ache. And she remembered the mistrust in her mother’s eyes. So she took a sip, letting the bitter alcohol sit on her tongue before swallowing.

“I need this to work, Nara,” Miyoung said, handing back the cup. “I’ve let my mother down. I can’t go back until this is fixed.”

“If your mother did something to you—”

“Let’s stop talking about my mother,” Miyoung insisted. “Can you do this or not?”

Nara’s face smoothed and she straightened her shoulders. “I can do this.”

Miyoung nodded, clutching the fox bead so tightly in her pocket she thought she’d crush it. “What’re you going to do now?”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Nara said. “My halmeoni is.”

An elderly woman walked into the small clearing. She wore a traditional hanbok cinched high over her ribs, the satin skirt a wide bell. Instead of the bright colors that usually made up a hanbok, hers was pure white.