Page 10

Iseul

On the battlefield, Iseul the Gumiho shifts from human to fox and back again, spraying the air with blood both red and golden. She slices through the armies’ hasty, makeshift formations with her eyes latched determinedly upon the warrior empress. Her pale hair comes loose of its braid, and it whips through the air as she flips and ducks and whirls, cutting a path to Empress Moon Dahee.

The woman has mounted one of the strong war horses that stampede through the camp. Iseul decides not to kill it. She rather has a soft spot for animals. Except for birds. Oh, Iseul hates birds. They squawk too much .

And Iseul has never much liked the empress, either. She’s heard whispers, here and there, that Moon Dahee’s flirtatious facade hides something slimy and predatory underneath. The rumors have never been confirmed, but it’s tragic, really, that such a strong woman has decided to abuse her power by being a smarmy little centipede.

Unbearably handsy .

Moon has two twin swords, both blue. But Iseul has very pointy claws and a very bad temper. Seojin always called her a “spitfire.” Shifting back into her fox form, Iseul weaves through Imugi and soldiers until she stands before Moon’s horse. Surprised, the stallion rears up, hooves rising into the air. Its rider shouts, the empress’s face contorting in surprise as Iseul returns to her human form, ax and all.

“Hel lo !” Iseul sings cheerfully as the stallion crashes back down. “I hope you’re not too attached to your head, Empress. You’re liable to lose it oh-so- very soon.”

“ Gumiho ,” spits Moon as her stallion whickers anxiously, trotting back a few steps despite its rider’s thunderous expression. It takes talent, really, to make the name of a wonderful species sound like a slur. Talent, and hatred. Iseul licks her lips and feels nothing but slight annoyance. She’s used to it.

“ Human ,” she retorts sweetly, “I’m going to decapitate you now. Just so you know.”

Empress Moon sneers, readying herself for the attack that follows.

It is to Iseul’s great surprise that she finds Moon Dahee to be much harder to decapitate than she thought. The empress, even on top of a lumbering steed, is quick and graceful. Iseul’s skin becomes slick with sweat as they battle. Oh, this is taking far too long. Iseul is very impatient. She wants to reach Bonseyo and brutally end the Jeon Dynasty, avenging her family, and all those who died in the Fox Hunt.

Iseul had expected Lina to understand her pain and how terribly deep it goes. When she opened up to her friend on the Stretch, she’d expected… Well. Anything but cold disinterest. Yet that was precisely what she had received. That had been simply lovely, really, just so nice .

The memory brings Iseul’s anger to a boil, and her attacks turn even more violent. None of them understand. Seojin didn’t. Lina doesn’t. For some reason , Iseul survived what killed all other Gumiho. She needs to prove her worth. She needs to kill the Jeons.

Moon falls from her horse and hits the ground at an odd angle, twin swords scattering on the ground. Iseul is rather impressed with herself. She learned to fight early. It was the only way to survive. But my , has she gotten good at it these past few months.

She stalks over to where Moon wheezes, hefting her axe in her hands. “Any last words?” she purrs. “A heart-wrenching farewell to your kingdom? A dramatically mournful monologue, perhaps? A final order to your troops?” As Moon opens her mouth, Iseul laughs. “Oh, you poor, silly thing. I’m not at all serious.” Her muscles flexing with a familiar burn, she prepares to bring the axe down. “This might hurt a teensy bit.”

“ISEUL!”

It’s an involuntary reaction that her head jerks toward the sound of that voice, piercing the noises of battle from across the camp. Involuntary, just like the beating of her heart. Like the blinking of her eyes. Like the blushing of her cheeks.

Seojin?

Her eyes latch across the battlefield and onto the boy who healed her as a young nine-tailed fox. The boy who became her best friend and then abandoned her. Ryu Seojin is staggering from a corridor of shadow, Kang next to him. His dark eyes are wide with shock and fury. He is holding a basket of medical supplies.

Shock is a bolt of lightning through her blood. Iseul’s grip on the axe falters. Why is Seojin here ? In Wyusan? On the field ?

Her half second of hesitation costs her.

Seojin’s brown eyes latch onto a point behind her. He opens his mouth…

Something hard and blunt slams into Iseul’s skull.

The world goes blank.