Page 35

The Prophecy

“There are archers on the wall’s western edge, watching the sea for Imugi,” Bomin reads, and I hiss through my teeth. Rage boils within me. This should not be happening. My finely laid plans should not be going to waste.

Bomin’s latest correspondence is held in his hands, the black bird already flapping away. The Beast Wall looms in the distance, a formidable barrier of old stone, scuffed from age yet strong and sturdy.

“The arrows are made of the same material as the swords. Forged in the emperor’s fire. Many of the soldiers are also equipped with Imugi scale armor. They were harvested during the Battle of Seocheonkkotbat.”

From the Imugi in the failed First Wave. Their brethren hiss, Sonagi shaking with fury at the thought of her dead children’s skin being fitted to the enemy, although it is nothing new.

“ How ,” I say coldly to Bomin, “do they know of our plan?” We have paused in our voyage, but the Beast Wall still beckons us. The Imugi travelling via sea are drawing closer, yet no longer do we have the advantage of surprise.

But Bomin does not need to answer.

My suspicions have become more than just ideas construed of paranoia. I already know who must have spied from her prison, who must have somehow passed on information to Haneul. I remember the feeling of sensing not one, but two specks of consciousness in my head. So this is where he goes where I cannot follow.

Into my mind. To his wife .

I wish nothing more than to tear open my head and crush the Prisoner into nothingness. Yet I cannot pin her down: she is like an ant, scuttling through a maze, so small that my fingers cannot grasp her. Much like she could not reach into her own head to pluck me out, I cannot do the same. All I can do is reach Fulfillment and lay all her pitiful plans to waste.

“Continue,” I snap as Bomin fumbles. I raise the halji to my lips and suck furiously, inhaling the bitter smoke.

“Refugees from Sanyeongto hide in the Dokkaebi realm. An extraction team has been arranged to retrieve the Supreme Commander, set to depart when the serpents become visible crossing land from the Beast Wall. The Gumiho is chained to the healer boy. They will keep her in Gyeulcheon to prevent her removal.”

My teeth clench. Retrieving Iseul was one of my priorities. Yet for now, it is impossible. Unless I use Kim Chan to my advantage. “Is that all?” I grind out.

“There’s more.” Bomin clears his throat and adjusts his ridiculous top hat. It is now battered and disgusting from battle, but he refuses to part with it. In order to rid him of it, I may need to part his head from his body, which I am all too inclined to do as he reads, “In an interesting turn of events, the royal advisor now wears a metal muzzle around the lower half of his face.”

“Petty court gossip. Is there anything else of use ?”

Bomin flips the parchment. “Bonseyo remains silent despite the emperor’s missives. We do not expect their aid. Dalnim and Haemosu were weakened from their Bulgae’s defeat but will return in full force should the emperor lose the Battle of Sanyeongto.” He looks up. “Now that is all.”

I scowl and exchange a long, mental conversation with Sonagi. The deities intervening in “full force” is the very last thing we need. My fingers itch to throttle something, someone. Preferably two someones. Twins. A moon. A sun.

“I cannot say, child, that your victory is assured anymore.”

Let me show them. Let me show to them the folly of standing in my way.

After much deliberation, it is decided that Kim Chan will be used as fodder for an exchange of hostages. At least one member of the extraction team will be spared to carry the message to the emperor. As for the Imugi set to breach the Beast Wall, there is not much I can do for them, save hope that they are clever enough to expect resistance—which they are. Sonagi, who can feel the presence of her children, tells me that they will reach the Wall by nightfall.

To draw out the extraction unit, we traverse some more miles. I am sure that Haneul can feel my presence drawing closer. The red thread connecting us, when I will it into view, shortens with each mile of heavily forested land we cross. When three corridors of shadow burst into existence, and two male Dokkaebi accompanied by one female appear, I am not surprised.

One male leaps toward Uloe, who carries the Supreme Commander. My Imugi engage the others while I, instead, launch toward the Dokkaebi battling Uloe.

He’s a tall Dokkaebi, with cropped hair and broad shoulders—which tighten as I tap one with a finger. The soldier whips around, and I greet him with a fanged smile.

He shouts in alarm, and I’m already moving in a flash of speed as he slashes his firesword toward me. I have become accustomed to these weapons now, at the necessity of avoiding their lethal touch.

And I, too, can wield one.

Kim Chan’s firesword is at my waist. I take it in my hand and reveal the blade of blue with a wrist flick. This will pierce the scale-plate armor he wears easily enough, and with it, I can block his parries—unlike with my scaleblades. It becomes clear, however, he is not trying to kill me—only to incapacitate. Ah. Likely he is thinking of his emperor’s life, hanging in the balance, tied to my own. The order to “take me alive” must still stand for Haneul’s own army, despite the gods’ attempts to murder me. How interesting. I wonder what the troops think of this, or if they are obedient little dogs, slavering over their master’s commands despite the goal of the gods. It seems the latter. His reluctance to engage me to his full potential is his downfall.

By the end, only a female soldier is alive. At mid-afternoon, she is sent back to Haneul to carry my official offer: Kim Chan for Song Iseul. To the unit’s credit, some of my Imugi are injured, although not grievously so. Daeyang, the Imugi healer, having recently returned from Jeoseung where the wounded from the Battle of Seocheonkkotbat recover, chews up medicinal herbs and packs the gouges with the substances.

As we wait for the emperor’s reply, I again search my mind for the Prisoner. I can tell that she is still in motion, and an uncomfortable feeling curdles my stomach.

It is not fear. I do not feel fear .

She will not reclaim this body. I will fight her for it.

And I will kill her for it, if such a thing is possible.