Page 59

Rui

There are a great many thoughts running through the Dokkaebi emperor’s head as Dalnim and Haemosu—resplendent in silver and golden lamellar armor—stand unflinchingly upon the muddy plain, eyes flashing with the fury of a thousand moons and suns.

Ultimately, none of Rui’s thoughts are anything but unhelpful cacophonies of curses as the Prophecy holds up a hand, drawing her forces to a halt some paces away from the divine twins.

Dalnim’s star-speckled black hair has been tied back in an unforgiving topknot, and in her hands, she holds a silver-plated gakgung—a bow carved from the horn of a water buffalo. Haemosu holds a jikdo of pure gold, his grip deceptively loose around the hilt. Anybody can see that the sun god is primed and itching for a fight. From an Imugi’s back, Rui stiffens as he sees that telltale, murderous spark in Haemosu’s brilliant eyes. Flanking the twins are at least eight Bulgae, their flaming muzzles pulled back, their muscles taut with restraint. One word from the gods and they will leap.

“Shin Lina,” Dalnim says softly. There is an arrow nocked in her gakgung, and somehow Rui knows that her aim will be steady. “You will answer to your crimes against the Three Kingdoms. You are nothing but a false god.” Her eyes, cold and hard, slide to Rui. Dalnim’s betrayal and anger embed themselves in his chest like one of her arrows. “We wondered where you fled, Rui. It seems there is one place we did not look. Whatever you are trying to accomplish, it is in vain. Surrender, both of you. This need not be harder than it must.”

The Prophecy licks her lips and smiles, her viper-like fangs poking her bottom lip. “I am not afraid of you, goddess. What is the moon in comparison to wrath?”

Rui closes his eyes and mutters a curse.

Overhead, thunder rumbles. Although the Prophecy and her forces must be exhausted, still they rally in the face of this threat. It was neatly done, similar to what the Prophecy did before the Battle of Seocheonkkotbat: weary the troops with one threat, only to present the true adversary not long later. Sweat trickles down the side of his neck as Dalnim’s fingers begin to loosen around the gakgung’s nocked arrow.

A moment later, it flies through the air.

Chaos erupts with the flight of that arrow. The Prophecy jerks to the side, the arrow bouncing off her cheekbone that has since been covered with diamond-hard Imugi scale. With roars, the Bulgae attack the Imugi forces, serpentine screams and furious barking rising into the sky. Falling through the air, Rui hits the mud and grits his teeth. Gameunjang said herself that the gods may indeed have the power to kill the Prophecy—to kill him and Lina, before giving them the clandestine chance to set things to rights.

It does not escape him, the irony of all this fighting to only die another day.

The Prophecy, damn her, is foolish. Clearly the best option here is retreat, but the parasite controlling Lina’s body operates on simplistic, violent urges. Rui is focused on reaching her—on somehow pulling her back into a portal that will spew them out elsewhere, despite Gameunjang’s wishes—when Haemosu steps into his path. The sun god flips his sword in his hand and lowers his head. Preparing, the emperor sees, to charge.

Blue fire begins to burn in Rui’s palms. He is breathing hard, breathing fast. If he could only tell the sun god of Gameunjang’s urgings, perhaps all of this could be avoided. Yet he is bound, bound by his promise to Lady Luck to remain silent, lest things somehow go awry. If the path he walks puts a god in his path, he will fight that god rather than stray from the trail toward redemption.

Unfortunate , he thinks as they begin circling one another.

He promised Lina not to try to fight a deity. She will be livid.

I’m sorry, little thief , Rui thinks resignedly. I’ve no choice.

…

He spits dirt and blood out of his mouth as the world burns around him and chokes on the acrid stench of burning scale from fallen Imugi. Haemosu, damn him, stands above where Rui has fallen, the blade of that golden jikdo pressed into the delicate hollow of his throat. In the periphery of Rui’s blurring vision, the Prophecy—atop Sonagi—still fights viciously against Dalnim’s arrows, yet one movement from Haemosu will bring her downfall.

So is this how it is to be? Rui wonders, leaning on his elbows and staring up at the unflinching glare of the sun god. Is this moment of a golden glare burning into his skull the moment that the Dalgyal Gwisin predicted, after all? Death is notched mercilessly against his throat.

Not yet , is all he can think. Not yet.

“You are distracted and in love,” Haemosu tells him, his voice a harsh grumble. Ah, well at least Rui managed to land a few scarce blows. The god’s helmet is dented, and his bottom lip is split. Rui, however, has fared much worse. As has the Prophecy. Their wounds mix together, blending into a symphony of pain, covering their bodies in mottled bruises and dripping cuts. “There is no other way this was going to end. Goodbye, Haneul Rui. You may bring your folly to Jeoseung—”

In that moment, something shifts in the air. Rui knows not what, only that it is like the sharp energy that prickles through the air before a sudden storm. Haemosu’s eyes widen a split second before a pale hand lands on his shoulder. The god freezes, although whether it is from fear, or from some other strange, divine magic, Rui cannot determine.

“Well, isn’t this a sight,” purrs a dark voice. A man, tall and slender, steps to stand beside Haemosu, smiling unpleasantly down at Rui. His eyes are like coals, dark and glittering, with unnerving glimpses of a fire deep within. “I followed the sound of screaming. I was ever so bored, you see. Wars: say what you must about them, but they are terribly good for curing tedium.” When he tilts his head, his silver-streaked black hair falls into that cunning gaze. His aura glows a dark, roiling red. And thus Rui knows precisely who this deadly newcomer is.

“Seokga,” rasps the Dokkaebi emperor.

The god of deceit winks before reaching out a finger to gently nudge Haemosu’s sword away from Rui’s neck. The sun deity’s neck is straining, veins popping out underneath his armor. Whatever Seokga has done to him will not last long. “Our Lady Luck has called in a…favor. Worry not,” he adds with a disdainful glance toward Haemosu. “He cannot hear us.”

Gameunjang summoned Seokga here? Something about this strikes Rui as odd, but he is in no position to deny the trickster’s help. As Rui climbs to his feet, breathing hard, a cry of alarm erupts from Dalnim’s throat. Seokga smiles, waggling his fingers at the shocked moon goddess as she catches sight of him. “Tell me, Haneul Rui. What do the sun and moon fear above all else?”

He blinks, swaying on his feet, holding his side where either he or the Prophecy has been stabbed. A story floats back to him, one he told Lina in the library of Gyeulcheon. Dalnim and Haemosu, racing up into the sky to escape…

“A tiger,” Rui rasps, and Seokga’s lips stretch into a wide, hungry grin.

“Exactly,” he purrs, and then the god’s form is rippling, shifting, limbs disappearing underneath thick, orange-and-black fur, sly smile transforming into a grizzled muzzle bared to reveal yellowed fangs. Where Seokga once stood, there now exists a giant tiger with coal-black eyes and a dripping maw of a smile.

Seokga the Tiger cocks his head toward the muddy plains beyond. “Run,” the creature growls to Rui just as the sun god breaks free of whatever hold the trickster had on him. As Seokga roars, rushing Haemosu, Dalnim’s terrified screams fill the air. Rui’s bewildered eyes can barely take in what he’s seeing before the Imugi are herding him toward the land beyond, shoving him roughly forward with scaled snouts.

Grimly, Rui looks back to the battlefield, where the tiger has knocked Haemosu over and stands with one terrible paw planted on his chest as the Bulgae bark in a panic.

What does it mean, the emperor wonders, that such a wicked god has allied himself with Gameunjang?