Page 62

The Prisoner

Outside of the cabin, the snow is beginning to melt, revealing small hints of hesitant earth hiding underneath. I stare out the window, one hand pressed flat to the glass, ignoring the throbs of pain that lance through my body from whatever the Prophecy has today endured.

What does it mean, I wonder, that winter is receding in this small corner of rest between the stairs and the levels? That the flurries of snow and storms of hail have stopped, replaced by a clear, velvet sky dappled with stars?

What does it mean, that Yego still hasn’t shown himself? A part of me wonders—no, hopes —that it’s a sign we’ve somehow thwarted our deaths…that Gameunjang has steered us away from an untimely demise. But that just doesn’t sound right.

Does it?

“Lina,” Rui says huskily as he appears in the chogajip. I turn, hand falling away from the window, to look at him. He looks entirely exhausted, and instead of his usual armor, he wears simple robes. Rui is unarmed, and I know it is the Prophecy’s doing—that he is her captive now, as he planned.

“I don’t know how much time I have,” he says, striding toward me. “She knows you’re moving through the mind and that I meet with you. I’ve tried to come here twice already, but both times she kicked me out of the trance. Quite literally, in fact. My ribs still hurt.” His silver eyes are so desperate, as if he expects to vanish at any moment, as he takes my face in his hands. The kiss is long, and sweet, yet edged with a hint of a familiar hunger.

It’s the sort of hunger that once consumed the pair of us, before we were so thoroughly broken. When we could hardly keep our hands off the other’s bare skin. The sort of hunger that was an unbridled kind of lust, a roaring, wild thing.

I pull him down further, running my hands through his wavy hair. He groans, hoarsely, before pulling away to scan my face.

“You’re different tonight,” he murmurs. “I can’t place it, but you feel…different.”

My lips tug upward. I do feel different. Exhausted from scouring through the palace and staring into the mirror, but… I also feel lighter, somehow. More myself . Rui swallows hard, and I realize he’s staring at my lips, at my smile.

I wonder how long it has been since I smiled like this.

“Months,” he whispers gutturally, sensing my unspoken question through the bond. “Months upon months.” Rui shakes his head in wonder, eyes suddenly sparkling with a hint of their old light-hearted mischief. “Gods, little thief. I never thought I would see you like this again.” He brushes a finger against my mouth. “It looks beautiful on you.”

I find myself opening my mouth, words tumbling onto my tongue, but I swallow them back. I’m not…I’m not ready for that, yet, but I am ready for this . Leading Rui to my bed, kissing him as if I am starving—because I am. Something has bloomed inside of me, something alive and beautiful and…and perhaps hopeful.

Something so different from the sharp, jagged emotions I have grown used to.

I fumble with Rui’s robes. I need this, need to feel him with me. Need to hold him close, need to feel his skin on mine… But what’s more is that I want to.

We’ve been apart for so long. And this, this joining…to me, it’s my promise to him. That I will return. That I will fight alongside him, just as he’s dreamed.

The three truths are warm against my skin. Perhaps they are healing me, somehow, lending me a strength I never thought I would find. Siphoning away the shadows, the grief, the despair. Giving in return this heady feeling of lust, of determination, a sense of self I thought I had forever lost.

I used to adore this—making love with Rui. Here, in this moment, with Rui’s harsh breathing and my excited heartbeat… I feel more myself than I have in so, so, so godsdamned long.

“Are you certain?” Rui gasps as I slide off his robes, revealing his toned chest, the sharp v-line, and… I feel a rush of heat in my core.

We have lain together before, the two of us, exploring each other with our mouths and hands after the night of our wedding, yet there still remains uncharted territory across the slopes and plains of our bodies. I want to reach those hidden places tonight, to feel what his body feels like joined with mine, like two halves of a locket clicking together after so long apart, finding where they’re meant to be. I feel that this is the time for it: it’s in the way I feel like myself again, in the way there has been some respite given to us in this chogajip, where Yego does not lurk. As the snow melts outside, so do I, a warm desire burning low in my stomach.

I’m certain , I reply with a wry look, and Rui—after a moment of delighted surprise—laughs. Laughs not his bitter, despondent laugh…but his one of excitement. Of delight. Of love.

He leans me down atop the mattress and kisses me, long and slow. Tormentingly slow. I moan against his lips, and he smiles, his pure joy sparkling down the red thread as he slips my tunic over my head. I sigh softly as he kisses a breast.

“Little thief,” he murmurs as he toys with the waistband of my pants. “I do love you.”

I love you, too.

Rui grins, a vibrant delight flashing across his face…

…and slips a hand underneath my pants. My breath leaves me in a soft exhale as his fingers glide exactly where I want them, as he strokes, still smiling against my mouth.

“I missed you,” he whispers. “I missed this.”

I close my eyes as he kisses me again, as his fingers—his godsdamn fingers—circle me, slowly, so slowly. My breathing hitches, yet is exhaled in frustration as his touch recedes. Rui smirks as he tugs off my pants completely, baring me to him. He positions himself between my legs and kisses me again, kisses me where I am warm and aching. Every touch of his tongue is deliciously torturous, edging me closer and closer to the fall, only inches away from where I balance on the precipice. He hums happily as I squirm, placing a hand on my navel, and I feel his smug, male satisfaction shoot through our bond.

I fracture and break, bliss wracking my body in waves, and only then does Rui rise. He’s flushed and glowing, feeling what I feel through the red thread of fate joining us. It is visible, the red thread, curling from my chest and into his.

“Lina,” he whispers as his forehead meets mine, as we become one. Despite all we have shared, we have not done this part before—this final joining, this slow and tender coupling. I gasp silently at the feel of him, and he is so utterly careful as he eases into me, trembling and flushed.

“Can I?” he whispers, so hopeful, so completely in awe that I smile as I nod.

Rui is gentle as his hips roll against mine, as he tenderly kisses the side of my neck, making me shiver. I twine my fingers through his hair and wrap my legs around him, savoring the steady rhythm of him, the heat of his body against mine. The tantalizing sensation of his movements, the warming of my blood, the growing tension within my arching body.

Closer and closer we dance, and we fall together, tension shattering into shards. I arch into him, biting down on a breathy moan as he gasps into my neck, movements slowing. His pleasure is mine, and mine is his, interwoven, tangled together by the red thread of fate. It is heat and flame and the feeling of a drop—it is tumbling from a precipice, falling through the air.

My legs are shaking as we slowly disentangle, and my entire body is still shivering as Rui holds me close to him. His eyes are fluttering closed, and his breathing has become slow, steady. I smile, turning so I can brush his sweaty hair from his face, so I can kiss his forehead.

A silver, bleary eye cracks open. “You destroy me,” he whispers. “You know that, don’t you?” He traces my collarbone with an indolent finger. “You destroy me so utterly.”

I know , I reply before taking his hand in mine and interlacing our fingers.

Rui grins sleepily. “You’re getting closer, aren’t you?” he murmurs. “Closer to reclaiming yourself.”

The thought of existing within my body no longer fills me with an acute terror. Instead, I feel only a slight hesitancy that is overpowered by the flare of determination. I nod, toying with my necklace. Rui’s eyes travel to the five little keys, as if noticing them for the first time. With an elegant finger, he traces the charms: the beast, the willow tree, the dongsimgyeol, the little mirror, and the three truths. “My, Lina,” he murmurs. “What excellent taste in jewelry you have. I have finally rubbed off on you.”

I roll my eyes fondly. Two more keys await , I tell him.

“Only two?” he whispers, and there is no disguising the hope in his voice.

Only two , I confirm, and his smile is a thing of beauty: not the wolfish, feral grin he gives to others, but the soft, gentle one that is reserved only for me. My heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly as he presses a kiss to my temple. I do not want to break this moment, yet I must still ask. How do you fare in the real world? I’ve not had time to stop and look, pouring all of my focus into crossing the levels and collecting the keys. I know only that time is of the essence. I would feel guilty, laying here so indolently with Rui while war wages outside, but if he has time to visit me in this mindscape, it means the Prophecy has stopped for the night.

Rui? I prompt. I felt pain, earlier, from the Prophecy. What has happened?

A suspiciously long pause follows.

I narrow my eyes.

Rui clears his throat. “There may have been a minor…ah, incident today,” he says innocently, with a virtuous smile that is not fooling me. “A minor incident in which I did not fight a god. I would certainly never do that, little thief, as my beloved wife warned me not to—”

Rui!

“—and far be it from me to ignore the wishes of my soul-stitched,” he finishes sweetly.

Oh, he is insufferable. I drag my hands down my face.

Of course he fought a god.

Of course he did.

“In my defense,” Rui hastens to say, spreading his hands in a humble, supplicating gesture, “I had little choice.”

I listen with growing alarm as he details the fight on Habaek’s Bridge, and the following ambush by Dalnim, Haemosu, and their Bulgae. When he reaches the moment of Seokga’s involvement, I blink, not bothering to hide my disbelief.

In the stories, at least, the lines between the deities are clear. In those fables, there is a cleanly cut divide been the Good and the Evil. Gameunjang would fall into the Good, alongside Haemosu and Dalnim, as well as most of the other deities, including Habaek. Seokga, however… Well, the trickster god would be firmly grouped within the Evil, alongside Yeomra—whose power over death is widely feared—and illness deities such as Manurasin. For Gameunjang to have called upon Seokga… It confuses me, makes my head ache with bewilderment. It did not occur to me that Gameunjang would be allied with one such as Seokga.

Perhaps the stories are oversimplifications of the lines between Good and Evil. Gods know, I myself have found them increasingly blurred. Yet…I wonder at Gameunjang’s apparent alliance with Seokga.

Rui seemingly attempts to shake off the rest of his exhaustion. “I’ve slowed the Prophecy’s route to the capital of Bonseyo for as long as I can manage, but she’s taking the tunnels underneath the orchards. Apparently, they’re quite fast.” He scrubs at his face. “And Iseul has been reclaimed. She’s working with me,” he adds with a crooked smile. “The Prophecy isn’t too popular anymore, as it turns out.”

Iseul has changed sides. I blink in pleased surprise, pushing aside my reservations about Gameunjang and Seokga.

The Prophecy doesn’t know Iseul has swapped her allegiances? I ask quickly. My heart lurches in my chest at what the Prophecy inside of my body might do to Iseul should she find out of her disloyalty. The Gumiho only ever showed me kindness when I knew her. I still remember the day she found me on the street, unable to stand, unable to breathe as I was flooded with panic. The Gumiho took me in her arms, carried me to safety. It warms me to know she has decided to abandon the Prophecy, to be better than bloodlust and rage. We are so similar, she and I.

We could have been great friends, I think, if things were different.

“She suspects. She has Jeon Eunwoo watching her—Emperor Jeon’s bastard son. He joined her ranks recently. And he has wings,” Rui adds, watching as I blink in surprise. Whenever I hope that this cesspool of a war cannot grow any more chaotic, I am proven utterly wrong. “His mother was apparently a Heavenly Maiden. But from what I’ve observed, Iseul is taking care of it. She knows she’s being watched.”

Shaking my head, I roll out of the bed and hastily begin dressing. I’ve taken the time to rest, to lie with Rui. Now, though… Now, that familiar sense of urgency has settled back over me. I jerk my shirt over my head and hitch my pants up to my waist. I close my fingers around the three truths.

I’m still unsure why I had to learn them. It is the Prophecy who is destined to “rule all,” not me—I spoke the truth. I’ve no desire to lead, to be an empress… Although I suppose in all technicalities, as Rui’s wife, I’m Empress of Gyeulcheon. Perhaps that is what Yoonho and Sang meant, but still, something about it does not sound entirely accurate. It has always been the Prophecy’s dream to be an empress. Not mine.

And even if I make it out of here…if we manage to thwart the Prophecy and our deaths…I would not wish to rule the Three Kingdoms.

“Where are you going, little thief?” Rui asks quietly as I tug on my shoes.

Nowhere yet , I respond with slight trepidation as I wait for the stairs to appear. Rui slips out of bed and redons his robes, joining my side just as the wall is replaced by the long staircase.

“Let me come with you,” he says. “I want to savor the time we have. The Prophecy will rip me away soon.”

I hesitate. This staircase is a passageway through the mind, after all, a path to my most private thoughts. My darkest memories. Yet Rui is my soul-stitched. My husband. He has seen me at my worst, and still, he loves me. I have seen, through our thread, his love for me firsthand. And I will strive every day to be worthy of it.

Swallowing nervously, I nod.

And somehow, this permission—for him to wander around my mind, to see every single broken part of me—is more intimate than our lovemaking. More intimate than anything else could ever be.

Silver eyes soft, Rui takes my hand, and together we ascend the staircase. He supports me as my limp appears, the pain in my left leg summoned by the long climb as it always is. And I am grateful to have him here, with me. It is as if the stairs, somehow, are pleased as well. We do not climb for as long as I had expected before we emerge on the next level. If Yego follows, I do not hear it.

As we emerge from the stairwell, I stumble backward, hitting Rui’s chest, legs nearly giving out beneath me.

“Lina,” Eunbi says slowly, hesitantly, from where she’s sitting at the edge of the lazuline Gyeulcheon pond, where morning light from the dozens of moons above reflects off the water and dapples the surrounding hill lands in a warm, glittering glow. She stands, dusting off her pale yellow hanbok and regarding me with wide brown eyes. There are cherry blossoms woven into her hair.

She makes no move to embrace me.

Eunbi. Eunbi . My baby sister. Gods, my knees threaten to give way. I press a fist to my mouth, press back the sobs as Rui hesitates at my back. Eunbi looks at him and waves hesitantly. “Hello, Rui,” she adds softly.

“Eunbi.” Rui’s voice is thick. “Is this…” No doubt he is wondering what I puzzled over with Chara and Chryse. Is this real ?

Yet I know, just as I knew then, that somehow…it is . My mind has brought her here, stretching into Jeoseung, extending a desperate invitation. Just as somehow my mind brought me to the underworld, where I watched her spin underneath the flowers of the cherry blossom tree.

And for whatever reason, Eunbi has accepted that invitation to come here. Has entered my mindscape, where she now stands in my memory of Gyeulcheon, looking at me with an inscrutable expression.

I do not realize that I have begun to hyperventilate until Rui gently squeezes my shoulder. “Lina,” he murmurs, “breathe, little thief, bre—”

But then he is torn apart from me, and I whirl around to see the dark, golden-etched door hovering in midair slamming closed before vanishing altogether…leaving me alone with Eunbi. The Prophecy has awoken him, and he is…

He is gone, leaving me alone with my little sister, whom I am more frightened of than any Dalgyal Gwisin, or any beast in a barley field. One richly deserved word from her could rip me into two. It could slice me straight down the middle, could shut me back into that cold, dark place where all I wanted was to remain in that cell. Does she know? How terribly she can wound me, if only she wishes to?

Face still turned away from my sister, I press my lips together hard, willing myself not to cry.

I am not the one who died at eight years old.

I am not the one who suffered in that palace underneath the scarlet moon.

This is not my tragedy. This is not about me.

When I have finally composed myself enough, I turn around. Eunbi is still regarding me quietly.

My hands flutter uselessly at my sides. Eunbi does not speak the Quiet Language.

I open my mouth to say her name. I try to speak. I do.

But I can’t.

“Lina,” she says, and I note she’s not calling me Lili, she’s calling me Lina, and the last time I heard her call me Lili…

C R A C K.

Eunbi settles down again on the shore of the pond. She doesn’t extend an invitation, but I hesitantly take a seat some feet away from her anyway, sitting down on the rich green grass. I need to speak. I need to use my voice. I try to drag it up into my throat, try to form words on my tongue, in my mouth. Eunbi watches, face shuttered, but a small hint of sadness slipping out.

“The others told me,” she says quietly. “I know you can’t talk. I don’t really understand why, but Sang said it’s because you’re traum…trauma… traumatized .” Eunbi sounds the word out carefully. “They say you might talk again one day, but that I shouldn’t push you too far.”

I’m still trying. Opening and closing my mouth like a fish. There’s so much I need to say to her. But I can’t… Each time I attempt to summon my voice, a feeling of acute terror overcomes me, and my stomach churns as if I am about to be sick.

Frustrated, I dig my nails into the palms of my hands and hate myself so utterly that the afterglow of my time with Rui, the courage and determination from the past two levels, slips away and leaves only a crushing sense of disgust.

My sister is here, she’s here , and yet I can’t even talk to her.

What kind of a coward am I?

“Lina,” Eunbi says, alarmed, staring at my hands. Too late, I realized I’ve drawn blood. “Don’t do that, Lina, please !” She rushes over, grabs my hands in hers, and I marvel at their childish smoothness, the soft palms and uncalloused fingers. “It’s all right that you can’t talk,” she says, holding my hands tightly. “But it’s not all right if you hurt yourself because of it!” Her lower lip trembles, and I inhale shakily.

I do not know if she will shrink away as I slip my hands out from underneath hers and attempt to pull her into a hug. Yet I try anyway, with a pounding heart. Eunbi stiffens and draws away.

My arms fall to my sides. Oh. Oh.

“I died,” Eunbi says simply, pulling her knees to her chest.

I know , I mouth, because the words won’t come out, won’t take form on my tongue. I’m so—I’m so sorry…

Eunbi frowns, shuttered face opening just a crack to reveal confusion. “You didn’t kill me,” she says. “But you didn’t save me, either. And when I saw you…” Her lips wobble. “You didn’t look like my sister. And then Rui started…burning you. I don’t understand. They tried to explain it. Hana told us—she’s in Jeoseung now, too. She said there’s something evil inside of you. I’ve seen all these people, coming down to Jeoseung, saying you did it.” She blinks rapidly. “Were you really there? Underneath the cherry blossom tree? I felt you…in here.” Eunbi taps her heart with a small hand. “And if you were, then I meant what I said. I-I’m so mad at you.”

Words stir restlessly in my chest. I need to be able to communicate with my sister. Again, I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Tears of frustration beginning to blur my vision, I slam my fist against the earth. How is this helping to heal me? I want to scream to the mindscape. How?

And almost as if it has listened to me, almost as if it has heard my pleas… Eunbi’s eyes snap to the smoky letters hovering before me as they rearrange themselves and shift to mirror the words I want to say to her.

I’m sorry, Eunbi , the letters read. I kept so much from you.

I do not know how this is possible, but it suddenly occurs to me that nothing is impossible in this strange realm, this land of the mind where imagination reigns. I take a deep breath, focusing on the letters. Morphing them into the words I’d like to say next.

Hana is right. Something was in my head, controlling me. A Prophecy. Do you know what a parasite is, Eunbi?

She shakes her head, frowning.

The ticks in the barley field , I try to explain. How Eomma would pat you down to make sure you hadn’t got any, because they latch on to your skin and don’t let go. It’s like that. The Dokkaebi thought they had found a way to get it out. Kang hoped that if he brought you that night, I’d be shocked, giving Rui enough time to get rid of the Prophecy. I didn’t know you would be there. Neither did Rui.

Although for so long, I thought he had.

“Oh,” Eunbi whispers in a small voice.

And it almost worked. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry you had to see that, little sister, but it almost worked. But then a man I’d—I’d hurt in the past… He wanted revenge. He used you to get it.

My little sister trembles. “What did you do to him?”

I do not want to admit this. A cold sweat breaks out on my neck, icy with dread.

“What did you do to him, Lina?” whispers Eunbi again.

Trembling, I make the letters appear, even as I know the disgust and shock my baby sister will feel. I killed his wife. Eunbi flinches, but I make myself go on. The bad man who murdered the Talons said I had to, or he’d hurt you. But I could have found another way. I was just too scared to search for one.

As I’d suspected, Eunbi blanches, face leeching of color. “You never told me what you did for the Talons,” she whispers. “You only ever said you took care of Yoonho’s business and went on…on hunts. I didn’t really think about what that might mean. Lina, what did you do? Are you…” Her mouth works. “Are you a killer?”

I bow my head, fighting back a sob. Yes.

There is a long, long silence. When I look up, Eunbi is crying—crying angrily, glaring at me through teary eyes. “I hate you,” she gasps out. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you !”

I know. That’s… I understand.

My sister, whom I’ve raised since she was four. Whom I sent to safety, in the Yaepak Mountains. Whom I fought for, whom I killed for, whom I bled for. Whom I love.

Whom hates me.

“You were supposed to protect me!” she screams. “You were always supposed to protect me ! You said you would, and you didn’t!”

Eunbi… If I can tell you why…

“I want to leave,” Eunbi sobs. “This was a mistake. I want to go back, I want to leave—”

And she does.

She disappears, as if she was never here at all—leaving me alone, trembling like a leaf, pressing a hand to my mouth.

No stairs appear to carry me away from this torture, to flee from my mistakes and misdeeds. I sit by the lake until the sky turns to a deep, mournful darkness.

My little sister does not return.