Page 28

Kang

Alone in his Gyeulcheon apothecary, the royal advisor carefully collects the first ingredient in the Calm Death.

His fingers tremble as he picks six unripe poppy pods from their jar and sets to them a multi-bladed knife. Kang’s mouth tastes of bile as he makes the first incisions, allowing the opium to seep from the pod in a trail of milky fluid. Shaking even more violently than before, he reaches for his curved, wooden spatula. This will collect the gum, allowing him to deposit it in an open wooden box, where it will harden. The next step will be to add the opium to the Calm Death.

He does not want to be doing this. Sweat rolls down his face as the fire in his humid workspace crackles and pops, each sound reminding him of the breaking of bones. His fingers tighten around the spatula as he harvests the fluid.

This is war , he reminds himself. Innocents dying. Commanders captured. Armies barely staying afloat in every battle. One sacrifice, to save many. To stop a Prophecy.

It is a decision that his teachers in the Wyusan Wilderness, from so long ago, would approve of. It is logical, designed to save as many lives as possible, stop a Prophecy, and end a war.

Three birds with one stone—one life of an emperor.

Kang deposits the gum into the wooden boxes and leans heavily on his gnarled staff, breathing hard. The next step, while it dries, is to—

The door of his apothecary bursts open, and Kang jumps as his emperor lurches through the doorway, silver eyes bright, frenzied, and mouth curled into a smile that is raw with manic energy.

“ Kang ,” Rui breathes, striding over to the worktable and slapping his hands down on the rough wooden surface. The wooden boxes full of the drying opium rattle, and Kang feels sweat slide down his back as he hopes Rui does not know the ingredients to the Calm Death, the ingredients of which are spread haphazardly around the very surface against which Rui now places his weight. “Kang, it has been done. We just need some time…”

Kang stares at him in bewilderment, not understanding the words his emperor is saying. Evidently seeing this, Rui pushes off from the table, and begins to pace, hands clasped behind his back. He does not see Kang slowly taking the wooden boxes of drying opium and sliding them into a drawer underneath the worktable, out of sight.

“ Somebody ,” Rui says carefully, and there is a…cadence to his voice, as if he is trying to say something without saying it. Kang knows his emperor is wary of the Prophecy’s eavesdropping yet still frowns in puzzlement. “ Somebody told me that the army en route to Sanyeongto, travelling by land, destroying the villages, is a diversion.”

The still, cool waters of Kang’s mind ripple in surprise. A diversion…

How can he possibly know this? Bewildered, he can do nothing but lean on the table, watching Rui closely. Suspiciously, if he is to be honest. They have no moles on the opposing side. How came by he to this information?

“Imugi forces come by sea to breach the Beast Wall from the western edge. I have alerted our troops; as of now, forces are preparing to cover the western edge. If the Beast Wall falls, Sanyeongto will follow, and Wyusan will be captured. Chan—” Rui grits his teeth.

Kang, too, winces as he thinks of his friend and the foolish and infuriating idea of going rogue that ended in his capture.

“—is travelling by land. I suspect he is being kept as an assurance that the army will regain Song Iseul, and as entertainment. We will prepare a troop to focus on his attainment. The Prophecy is a day’s ride away from Sanyeongto. When she reaches the city, retrieving Chan will be one of the top priorities.” Kang sees that as furious as Rui is at Kim Chan, the Dokkaebi has been one of his closest friends since they were nothing more but grubby-handed children with a tendency to steal sweets from underneath Asha’s nose. And with Hana gone, the fact remains that Rui cannot lose another member of his inner circle.

“Who told you this?” Kang asks slowly. “ Who gave you this intelligence?” Does he have a spy, after all? How has Kang not known?

Ah.

The way Rui stares at him, it is as if he is begging him to understand…something. Kang stares at him, at the hope shining so brightly across Rui’s face, the waters of his mind beginning to move, to ripple.

There would be only one reason for that hope. Could it be? The spindly writing of scrolls long forgotten swim before his eyes. Where does a host go, when a Prophecy overtakes them? He cannot remember, not at first, not until he closes his eyes and concentrates.

They are rumored to disappear…into the…the…deep recesses of the mind.

Is this something more than a rumor? Has Rui somehow…contacted Lina? Does the true Shin Lina still exist within her own head?

He grips his staff tightly, his head aching. “Rui,” Kang says quietly, a terrible weariness settling over him, along with the knowledge that despite all of this, he must finish the Calm Death brew. “I understand your hope, but this does not change as much as you think. There are so many variables that still—”

Rui’s eyes narrow. “You flirt with insolence.”

“Emperor!” a voice shouts, and Kang, stiffening, turns to the still-open doorway where Ryu Seojin (dragging along a scowling Gumiho) stands, panting.

“What is it?” Rui snaps, and Seojin meets their eyes.

“You have visitors.”