Page 27

The Prisoner

Right here , I sign, and gesture to the weak spot on the bars as Rui silently peers over my shoulder. His heat radiates through my back, invoking memories that traitorously stain my cheeks. Energy thrums off him in waves—a pulsing, determined aura.

Somehow, here, the rungs are weaker. Listen. I pull and demonstrate that noise, that signification of a weak spot. The one I found while waiting for him. I thought that you might be able to create an opening. By…bending them. As much as it grates to admit, my strength alone is not enough. I need to borrow his.

A soft, strangled sound escapes from Rui’s throat. I feel his shock, his disbelief, and something bright and burning travel down our bond. Hope. “Little thief,” he rasps. “You—you…”

I turn to him, swallowing hard. I…should not have let myself be shepherded into here. You are right, Rui. This is my war. I must at least—try to fight. One last time. Just one last time.

His silver eyes shine with the heat of a thousand stars. “Lina,” he says, and I think he might fall to his knees. “ Lina .” The simple sound of my name from his lips holds more—more meaning, more emotion, more reverence—than any other word could. I blink rapidly, and I am searching for words of my own when the Dalgyal Gwisin speaks instead. My eyes narrow as I whip back around.

“Ooo,” it rasps, somehow smacking its nonexistent lips. “ Ooo … Are you escaping ? Oh, I truly hope you are.” As it steps out from the darkness, its mouth appears in a twisted stretch, its teeth beginning to chatter in excitement. “I’m hungry, so hungry. My mouth…it’s watering .” Dark saliva drips from its maw. “Come here, scrumptious. I’m ever so hungry.”

Rui was right. It was never guarding me on behalf of the Prophecy. It was guarding me for itself, waiting for this .

For me to leave the safety of the cell, as it’s been trying to goad me into doing this entire time.

For it to… eat me .

Truly, I am beginning to think that Gameunjang, Goddess of Luck and Fate, despises me. I suppress a groan as its teeth continue their relentless, unnerving chattering.

“Come out, come out,” croons the Dalgyal Gwisin. “My tasty little morsel of flesh, my scrumptious tidbit of misery…” It stretches out its arms, sleeves of the white hanbok falling away to reveal bloated flesh. “Come to me… Let me have you…”

Rui stiffens, something hitching in his throat. “It cannot catch you,” he breathes into my ear. “If it kills you in here—I do not think you will stand any chance of returning to your body. You could be destroyed.” I can tell what he means: my very essence, shredded into nothingness.

It can bleed , I tell him, but he shakes his head. I watch as he paces the cell.

“You are unarmed against an Aglyeong. And not just any Aglyeong, little thief, but a Dalgyal Gwisin. A Dalgyal…” His jaw clenches, and he looks so utterly lost…until his hand drifts down to the hilt sheathed at his hip. Eyes suddenly determined, he yanks the hilt out of its sheath and flicks his wrist. A blade of pure blue appears. “A firesword,” he tells me, striding back toward me with urgency and pressing it into my hand. “Forged in dokkaebibul. The blade is retractable. I do not know if it will remain here once I am pulled from this place, but it is worth a try.”

The sword is cold and heavy in my hands, the hilt dark and simply engraved. Out of instinct, my fingers tighten around it. For me, holding a sword is as natural as a mother holding a babe. Something inside of me stirs from slumber, blinking intently at the feeling of a weapon in my hand.

Rui must see it or sense it. His eyes trace my face and shine with what I know is pride.

Pride is not what I feel. No, I feel a surge of bitterness. Is this the only thing I was made for? Holding a weapon? Slowly, I turn back to the Dalgyal Gwisin. Its teeth stop chattering as it beholds the sword.

“You’re spoiling the fun,” it hisses.

Rui unbuckles the leather baldric around his waist and tosses that to me, too. A place to sheath the sword. With resignation, I fasten it around my own waist.

Glaring at the Dalgyal Gwisin, I tilt my head toward the bars, a gesture that Rui understands.

“I’ll try,” Rui murmurs, and I step aside as he wraps his hands around the rungs. He strains, pulling the bars in opposite directions. He grunts, strains, and then steps back and shakes his head. My hopes deflate. “If this area is weaker,” he mutters, “I don’t even want to try the other rungs.”

Try again , I tell him, having sheathed the sword. This time, I’ll try, too.

Rui’s lips curve, just slightly. “Are you sure the Prophecy can’t see us in here? Because I’m sure this shall look hilarious,” he adds as I place my hands around the cold metal and as he steps behind me to place his hands just above me. I’m sure, but with my hands occupied, I can’t tell him—so instead, I just nod.

Together we pull. My muscles strain, yet even as the bars groan and I think they might be giving way, they don’t budge. And I am exhausted—I stumble backward, hands lurching from the bars, and collide into Rui. My back meets his hard torso, and together we trip, landing on the cold, dank floor.

Cheeks burning, I scramble up. Before I can stop myself, I reach down a hand in an offer of help. Surprise flickering across his face, Rui takes it.

His hand is cool. Calloused.

I hold on for a second longer than I need to. Like holding the sword, holding his hand feels…natural. Despite everything.

“Lina,” he whispers hoarsely.

Rui , I mouth silently, hand in his grasp.

“Your voice,” he says uncertainly. “I have wondered… Have you lost it, little thief?”

Yes. Yes, I have lost it. But not in the way he thinks. It is still there, curled within my throat, but the words I’ve spoken, the words fed onto it by the Prophecy during my crusade of terror in Sunpo… The thought of speaking still fills me with a sickening dread.

But I do not know if Rui would understand this, so I merely shake my head and pull my hand from his grip. I pretend I do not feel his pity nor his disappointment as my touch leaves his own. I pretend that my own hand does not seem to ache at the loss.

There has to be a way out , I sign, quickly changing the topic. You’ve tried the Dokkaebi fire on my body during the battles, haven’t you? Those flames nearly worked once, nearly tore the Prophecy out of me. But then—

C R A C K .

“With the Prophecy’s power over rain, it’s proven rather difficult to keep my fire burning as potently as it must. There has been little effect.” Rui shakes his head. “But that was when you didn’t want to be found. Perhaps now, it will be different.” I jolt in surprise as a ball of blue fire hovers over his open palm.

I had thought… I had thought that here, within this mindscape, both of us were rendered powerless. My scales and fangs, after all, are gone. My blood runs red. Yet somehow, Rui’s fire is still part of him. So is his strength, I realize belatedly. It is just that those Imugi traits are not a part of me .

The knowledge is…comforting. Yet there is no time to dwell. Mind whirring, I sign so quickly that Rui shakes his head, looking baffled.

“I’m sorry, Lina, I—”

The fire , I say again. The fire, Rui. It works in here. And if it works in here— I gesture to the bars. You can burn me out from the inside. Even though the idea terrifies me.

Slowly, realization crosses Rui’s face. “How—”

I begin to pace, back and forth. I know so little of this world, this space within the mind. Rui unleashing the full extent of his fire from within here could be dangerous. It could have effects disastrous to the war. Finally, I settle on a decision.

Melt the bars, if you can , I tell him urgently. There is something beyond this cell. A staircase, at the end of this dungeon. I think I can find my way out. Back into my body. I don’t know how long it will take, but I-I believe I can do it.

Rui nods, the fire flaring brighter. Some light has come back into his exhausted eyes. “Lina,” he whispers, a rush of affection flaring down the red thread. It becomes visible, wavering between us in a blur of scarlet from Rui’s excitement. “Lina, you’re truly brilliant.” He takes a step closer to me, gazing down with soft eyes. His hand that does not burn with the Dokkaebi fire hovers, as if longing to cup my cheek in his palm…but he draws it away and turns to his task. “Stand back,” he says, and his voice is perhaps a bit guttural. “I don’t want to burn you.”

It’s not me he should be concerned about. That…thing…is going to pounce , I warn him, narrowing my eyes at the Dalgyal Gwisin. Once the bars are melted, it’s going to rush us.

“I hope it does,” Rui replies, the Dokkaebi fire blazing brighter. A familiar sharp smile curves his mouth. “Oh, I truly hope it does.”

I flatten myself against the opposite stone wall and draw the sword. With a flick of the wrist, the blue blade shoots forth. My feet are rooted to the ground in a familiar stance, my heart thumping in my ears.

A fight is coming. I suppose we will see if I’m ready for it.

Rui, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure I’m as far away as possible, summons a flame to his other hand as well. Turning back, his shoulders tense…and he begins to burn. The air grows cold, so cold that it is viciously hot as Rui guides the fire to the bars. The smell of melting metal fills my nose, and I watch as the bars begin to bubble and ripple, to soften, sweating underneath the fire. They begin to give, to seep downward, but Rui does not stop there, even when a gaping hole exists, enough for me to slip through.

No, Haneul Rui melts the whole damn thing to the ground.

Panting, he looks back at me. There is sadness in his eyes, but there is also triumph and hope in his gaze as I take a step forward, careful to avoid the puddles of melted iron.

The Dalgyal Gwisin’s maw gapes as it screams in hunger through chattering teeth. I had thought it would move with monstrous grace like the Imugi. I was wrong.

The creature drops to all fours, its limbs disjointed, its fingers splayed crookedly against the ground. Its bloated bare feet scrabble on the ground and its head cocks, greasy black hair falling to the side. A strange chitter, one that I haven’t heard before, rips from its throat.

Before it can lunge at us, Rui blasts it with another wave of roaring blue fire. The flames envelop it, swallow it whole, and my grip on the sword begins to relax. Surely it cannot survive this.

Panting hard, Rui banks his fire—only for my heart to suddenly stand still in my chest. As the flames dwindle, the Dalgyal Gwisin laughs, for somehow it’s unburned, unscathed. “Tricksy, tricksy ,” it croons, cocking its head again. “But your fire won’t harm a hair on my head.”

And then it lunges.

My instincts kick in, and as the Dalgyal Gwisin leaps for me, I dive to the ground, rolling underneath its leaping body and launching back to my feet in time to shoot out of the cell before the thing has had time to recover. As I leap past the puddle of molten metal, I grab Rui’s hand, hauling him with me.

Together. We do this together.

And just like that… Just like that, we’re out of the cell, trembling violently as my feet meet the cold dungeon floor. Yet I have no time to savor my escape, for the Dalgyal Gwisin’s teeth are chattering, and it’s hauling itself back onto its four limbs from where it hit the wall. Shit. Breathing hard, I try to make sense of it. When I clawed at its arms, I drew blood with only my nails. Yet somehow Rui’s fire did nothing? How is that possible?

There is only one answer. It’s come to me. To my mind.

So I must be the one to kill it.

Panting hard, I back away. The Dalgyal Gwisin’s hair swings back and forth as it edges closer to the cell’s opening.

Its maw widens, revealing another row of teeth.

I have never grimaced so hard in my entire life.

“Wretched thing,” Rui snarls. He whirls to me. “Lina,” he pants. “ Run .”

He’s right. The Dalgyal Gwisin has the advantage in this fight. It’s limber and ready, while I have been huddled up in a cell for…for so very long. Already my muscles are quaking. A fight is more exertion than I am ready for.

“I will hold it off for as long as I’m able,” Rui breathes to me. “I’ve an easy escape.” The golden door, ready to appear at any moment for him. “Go, little thief. I will find you again soon.”

Every instinct screams for me not to leave him, but as the Dalgyal Gwisin launches itself forward again, I know I have no choice. Behind me is the stairwell. I sprint toward it, fists curled, with sickness churning in my stomach.

Be brave , I tell myself. Be strong.

Although I do not deserve to, I pray frantically to the gods as I round the corner. The staircase looms into view, leading to some level far above. Some innate sense tells me I am still far, far down in the mindscape and have some ways to go until I break free.

Behind me, the Dalgyal Gwisin roars in frustration. I glance over my shoulder one last time to see Rui taunting it, disorienting it with his flashes of fire. I clench his sword in my hand as I finally reach the stairs and race up that first cold, stone step.

Terrified. I am utterly terrified of what comes next.

But still, I take the next step.

And the next…

And the next.