Page 48

The Prisoner

Our lips are more hesitant than they ever have been, shy and vulnerable as they brush against each other, as if we half expect this to be a dream. Something that we’ll remember only foggily come morning.

The bond between us seems to sing, and I can feel Rui’s joy and love mingling with my own, bright and sparkling and so eternal, so unending, as if flowing from an immortal ocean rather than a well.

It is as if we are only taking small, delicate sips from each other—like butterflies tasting sweet nectar, savoring the sugary dew. I kiss him gently, marveling that even after all of this, he still feels the same . The shape of his lips, the taste of him, the way he smiles softly as I move an unruly strand of wavy hair from his face… All of it is as it was before the Prophecy, before this terrible war.

In this vast, forever-changing world, Rui is my anchor. My one constant, despite the forces that threaten to tear us apart. Even as I spiral and spiral, he is my gravity, always bringing me back to the ground.

Rui’s smile grows against my lips, yet he is… He is crying. Hastily, I move back, eyes wide as I stare at the sparkling tear tracing its way down the elegant planes of his face.

Rui? I swallow hard, shakily raising a finger to my lips. I scour him for any hint of distress, perhaps regret, but I only find his joy.

“Come back, little thief,” he murmurs, reaching for me. “I never want to be without you again.” With a gentle yet insistent tug, Rui guides me back down to him.

…

“I have to go,” he whispers onto the top of my head. It is a hoarse whisper, heavy with regret. Laying on him near the fire, I stir, opening my eyes and looking down at him in concern.

The time we have spent reacquainting ourselves with each other was only a fleeting moment of light before the cold, dark reality of our situation seeped in. Rui’s body is not here, not truly. He is in Gyeulcheon, and the gods are coming for him, just as Dalgyal Gwisin is coming for me—lurking in the woods beyond. As my concern hurtles down the red thread, Rui smiles, and it’s a crooked—yet sincere—thing.

How is it, I marvel, that he came here with eyes like abandoned, haunted tombs? How is it that in such short a time, they have regained some of their light?

Rui, please tell me what it is you plan to do.

Rui sighs. “You won’t like it, little thief. In fact”—another crooked smirk—“you’re going to hate it. I’m half expecting you to hit me on the head and call me insufferable and altogether unhinged. But if you must know…” He hesitates, continuing only when I glower. “I’m going to allow myself to be kidnapped.”

Kidnapped? I reel back, eyes widening. You don’t mean by—

“Unfortunately, I do.”

Rui. No. Absolutely not.

“Rui, yes ,” he replies sardonically. “It’s a clever idea, actually, Lina. And—ignoring the fact that it is supported by Gameunjang herself—I’ll explain why,” he says quickly as I roll off him, glancing around for some blunt object I can use to beat some sense into him.

“The Prophecy needs me alive,” he presses, voice now entirely serious. “She doesn’t want to die, but because our lives are linked, I am a threat to her. I could kill myself at any moment and bring her down with me. Somebody—like Kang, for example—could assassinate me and, by extension, assassinate her as well. So the tactic has shifted. She wants to capture me—keep me alive and unable to foil her plan. She’ll protect me from the gods, if only to protect herself. And it’s not as if she can so much as scratch me without feeling it herself.”

Your troops—

“Will be overtaken by Dalnim and Haemosu. They will fight willingly for them. I’ve already begun to lose their faith—I suspect that even without the twins’ intervention, I would have had to flee regardless.” His mouth tightens. “The road ahead is dark, but this path here—it could lead to light.”

If you do this , I start, hardly believing that this war has deteriorated so rapidly that Rui has no choice but to seek asylum with the Prophecy inhabiting my body, believing itself to be some warped version of me, if you are held hostage, what then?

“What else but sabotage?” Rui asks with a sharp, dangerous smirk. “If the Imugi were to mysteriously fall ill en route to Bonseyo… Well, that would be quite unfortunate, wouldn’t it? If everyone else insists on playing with poisons, I might as well try my hand—regardless of how cowardly it may be. It is only fair.”

I swallow hard. I do not want to accept this, but it…it makes sense, in a twisted and disorienting sort of logic, the very sort of logic Rui operates by. My eyes flick to the window, to the blizzard beyond. I have no other suggestions. As much as it worries me to admit it, this strategy of Rui’s may very well work, for no other option appears to me.

And if Rui does not take this path before him, he will die—tonight.

Fine , I sign, although I know he was not asking for permission. Rui, the stubborn Dokkaebi, does exactly as he pleases. Just…be careful.

“Always,” he replies, but his smile is a little less certain.

…

I sleep fitfully the rest of the night, allowing myself only a few hours of rest, lest Yego burst through the door of the chogajip and devour me whole. My dream is…a memory, one that I wish I could leave far behind.

In it, I am standing in the Sunpo sewers, the stench of blood and shit thick in my nose as I stare into Sonagi’s luminous, golden eyes. She is coiled around me, black forked tongue flicking in the air, eager hunger rolling off her in waves. I know this scene—I know it like I know to avoid swimming in the strong currents of the Yongwangguk Sea, know that it is a dangerous, dangerous moment.

One that changed everything.

In this memory, I have just killed Asina and the other Blackbloods—the ones that so often tormented Sang’s brother, Seojin. Sonagi has just devoured Asina, leaving only a bloody finger behind, which will later be put in the sight of Konrarnd Kalmin as a calling card. And the Prophecy has just infiltrated my mind, for Sonagi has captured me in her gaze, has shown me the history of the Imugi-Dokkaebi war, has spoken those damning words to me.

“With one last breath,

an empress will rise.

From dust and shadow

to bring sunrise.

Follow her and her path will lead true

to power and vengeance if from war you withdrew.

What you seek has now been found

for she is the Yeouiju who will lift you from the ground.

And the Child of Venom will rule all

Before making her home in Yeomra’s halls.”

Sick to my stomach, I try to lurch away. Yet I am held fast by some invisible power, forced to exist only within the confines of the memory, exactly how I was in this moment. Panicking, I attempt to awaken, but this dream is not a mere dream—something tells me that it is another trick of my mind, forcing me to confront another truth.

Words spill from my mouth, unprompted, tasting of bloody memory.

“The last stanza,” I say slowly. Before making her home in Yeomra’s halls. “Does it mean—”

“All living thingsss die eventually, Shin Lina. Even the so-called immortals. It is inevitable.” Sonagi makes a fluid gesture that I suspect is the Imugi version of a shrug. “Do not concern yourself with that part. It sssimply means that one day, you will passs. And we will come with you, for we are linked. Wherever you go, we will not be far behind. We will follow you to Jeoseung and back if needed, my child.”

My eyes fly open as I wake gasping in a cold sweat, Sonagi’s last words to me ringing in my ears.

We will follow you to Jeoseung and back if needed, my child.