Page 58

The Prophecy

We set out for Bonseyo at the break of dawn.

My blood thrums in excitement. Fulfillment, only a hairsbreadth away. It only raises my mood that the gods, those foul things, are nowhere in sight as we venture toward Habaek’s Bridge, and the orchards beyond, where we will enter the hidden, underground Bonseyo Shadowshafts toward the capital city of Gohtan.

Haneul, to my ire, escaped his bonds last night. There is no point denying that they were only decorum, altogether unnecessary. The fact he had tolerated them pleased me: it was little more than my own glorious show of power against him. Yet his smug smile as he strolled into the Sanyeongto palace just before dawn infuriated me so much that I was half-tempted to wound him grievously, despite the injury I, too, would feel. I barely managed to contain myself.

It is Kim Chan that I now use to keep Haneul in check. Misbehave, and the Supreme Commander shall suffer. He is gagged once more and bound atop Uloe. Sometime in the night, it seems that Haneul ungagged the Dokkaebi warrior, as proven by the expletives shouted from the stall and awaking my Imugi. No matter. It has been taken care of, and Haneul well knows the possible consequences of his actions.

So Haneul has no choice but to remain blindfolded as we traverse through our route. The roaring rapids of Habaek’s River become increasingly audible with every mile crossed through the sparse remnants of Wyusan’s heavy forestry, which becomes thinner and thinner as we near the river-border between Wyusan and Bonseyo.

Eunwoo flies above us, keeping watch for any hint of the opposing army or of the gods. When he swoops down with wide eyes as the sun begins to set, I know before he begins to speak that someone—or, rather, some thing —awaits us at Habaek’s Bridge.

“What is it?” I snap.

The prince lands, grimacing. “A god.”

…

“Shin Lina!” Habaek the River God roars from where he stands on his stone bridge, feet planted in the middle of it, teal eyes flashing ire. “Imugi-Born! You will not cross this night!”

The river churns rapidly, white froth foaming at the surface as it rises and crashes, splattering cold water into the air. I tilt my head, taking in the river god. He is hardly intimidating compared to Yeomra. His aura is one of a brilliant blue, and he seems much younger than the death god. If I did not know better, I would place him—by his slender frame and messy indigo hair—at perhaps eighteen or nineteen. There is the faint, almost pearlescent, sheen of scales along his torso, reminding me of freshwater rainbow fish.

Habaek raises his hands, and the river rises as well, towers of water stretching far above the bridge, angling to crash down upon my forces.

I smirk. My Imugi are water creatures—this will hardly be of any consequence. Sonagi will ensure my survival, lifting me to the surface. The others, however, seem concerned. Iseul shifts restlessly atop Uloe, and I can feel Haneul’s wariness as the walls of water stretch higher and higher. My lips flatten in discontent. If Haneul drowns, so shall I.

“Be gone!” Habaek roars, and with a sweep of his hands, he sends the walls of water crashing toward us. Eunwoo, cursing loudly, grabs Iseul and shoots into the sky. I barely register Iseul’s shout of surprise as the water comes down upon us in a magnificent smash.

The world turns blue, and I am flattened to the ground by the wave, unable to move for a few horrible moments from the pressure. Beneath me, Sonagi begins to swim. The god has turned this stretch of land before the river into a small sea, and as Sonagi swims past fallen trees and thick clouds of dirt, my lungs start to burn. Not just mine—Haneul’s. My head breaks the surface, and yet still I struggle to breathe—until Uloe drags the emperor and the captive up from the depths. I wish I could tell Uloe not to waste precious time with Chan—he’s only torture fodder, after all—but I am rather preoccupied.

Habaek walks atop the water toward me, eyes flashing. “Your crusade ends now.” Habaek flicks his wrist, and a dark blue harpoon appears in his hand.

What an unwelcome development. Sonagi hisses, and my Imugi swim toward us, forming a phalanx. They are elegant in the water, my serpents, so incredibly graceful. I summon my scaleblades, rising to my knees atop Sonagi. It is difficult to keep my balance here: the water is tumultuous, carrying with it broken tree trunks and out-wrenched shrubbery in its muddy depths. Yet I manage, gritting my teeth as I stretch out a hand, summoning a storm.

Thunder booms above, clouds coalescing as Habaek lunges toward me, harpoon outstretched. Sonagi swivels, and he misses—yet he is a god, and he is fast. In a blink of an eye, he is rushing me once more, and this time I have no choice but to leap off Sonagi. Midair, I flip over the flying harpoon and land on the back of Daeyang, who has swum closer to me.

Habaek’s weapon is returned to him by the water, which forms a shape of a hand and flings it back. His eyes narrowed, he turns to Haneul. The damned Dokkaebi has burned through his ropes. Yet I suppose I am reluctantly thankful that the Dokkaebi’s blindfold is nowhere to be seen, either—likely lost in the flood—as he catches Habaek’s attention. Quickly, Haneul opens a portal and disappears just as the harpoon slices through where his neck had been moments before.

Rain begins to fall, growing increasingly heavy. My Imugi contribute to the summoning, and I am glad, as I need the storm to be fully formed soon . I have an idea of how to take care of the river god.

With thunder comes lightning, after all.

Habaek hurls his weapon for me once more, and I grit my teeth and catch it. His eyes widen in surprise, and as Daeyang brings me closer, I swipe at him viciously. When his form turns into water to avoid injury, the harpoon plunging harmlessly into its depths, I know my plan will work perfectly.

Sonagi, I tell the Mother of Imugi, mind-to-mind, keep Habaek in his water form. I am taking a risk, hoping that the effects of the lightning will be contained to Habaek’s strange water form, with its arms and legs and head. If it travels through all of the water, my forces will suffer. Yet from what I observe of this form, it does not seem to obey the typical laws of water. Although the harpoon had no effect in terms of wounding the god, Habaek can still hold it in one of his hands, indicating some sort of solidity. That solidity should contain the lightning only to him, but—hopefully—injure him grievously. Water, whether godly or not, does not react well to lightning. The ions within it are excellent conductors.

When it splits down from the sky, the world goes brilliant and white. It is difficult to control lightning for the Imugi, yet Sonagi has relayed my idea, and all of my forces concentrate on directing the lightning toward the god. The combined effort ensures my plan comes to fruition. The fiery bolt cleaves through Habaek’s body—and does not extend toward the water in which we fight. Instead, it is contained only to his water form, and I watch with grim satisfaction as white veins of fire fracture through the god. He finally returns to his original form, mouth opened in a silent scream.

I watch dispassionately as the god flickers, once, twice.

“Return to Okhwang,” I say in disdain. I’m not so foolish as to think I’ve killed this god, but it is clear that I have at least won this battle. “Do not insert yourself into my affairs again.”

Habaek glares at me through now-red-rimmed eyes. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out. His expression is twisted, pained. The god struggles to rise from where he kneels atop the water but fails—and with a final glower disappears.

The world is silent.

Haneul has reappeared through another portal and landed atop Sonagi’s head. Sonagi hisses in contempt, attempting to throw him off, but he remains on her. “You triumphed over a river god,” he says, rather faintly as Eunwoo descends with a scowling Iseul in his arms.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” I reply curtly.

“You struck down a god ,” Haneul repeats, face pale. “With lightning .”

A muscle jumps in my jaw. I wish to kill him, and it is extremely agitating that I cannot. It is almost as agitating as the girl running about within my head. She is getting… closer , somehow. I can feel her gaining strength. Her footsteps no longer sound like the scuttling of a bug. Instead, they are louder and give me a constant headache.

I have tried to sink into the mindscape, to find her, to stop her. It is impossible, frustratingly so, endlessly so. The mindscape is still not something I can enter. It is as if this body keeps me tethered to this world, preventing any trips into the mental realm in which the girl lives.

My only comfort is how close Fulfillment is. I focus on that as my forces cut across Habaek’s River. The flooding is extensive, and the entire bridge is submerged. As we arrive on the other side of the bank, careful to keep close to where the bridge is—as it marks the starting point of Eunwoo’s route—the land is swamped despite Habaek having directed the waves of water in the opposite direction. Trees are half submerged, and it is only after we travel a couple miles more that the water recedes to waist-height, and a few miles after that, that it is nothing more but mud.

Mud…and two more divinities.

Fury cascades through my veins in a tumble of ice as two glares—one silver, and one gold—meet my own. And I see their plot. Their ploy.

I see that Habaek was only ever a distraction.