Page 65

The Prophecy

I tumble onto jagged stone and unleash a shout of fury as the Yongwangguk Sea sprays my face.

“You,” I seethe, turning onto Haneul, who stands on the rocky shore, breathing hard. “ Why ,” I hiss, “did you do that?” My troops. Sonagi. I must be with them. And yet I am here, miles away from the Bonseyo Shadowshafts, miles away from the battle, the war.

As Haneul glares at me, I stalk across the rocks, scaleblades extending. “Take me back,” I snarl. “Take me back right now. ”

“Take you back to die?” drawls Haneul, somehow looking extremely bored as I hold the blade to his throat. His confidence that I will not do it is enraging, and I wish—not for the first time—that I could shred the red thread of fate joining us into nothingness. “I’ll have to politely decline.”

Breathing hard, I step back. My hair whips in the salty, sea-tinged wind.

“We were about to perish in a multitude of terrible ways,” the Dokkaebi emperor continues over the violent crashing of the waves. The beach on which we stand is abandoned and bare, a long stretch of algae-slick stone underneath a gray, misty sky where gulls cackle and soar, dipping down to capture flapping fish in their beaks. “The least you can do is thank me.”

I ignore him, thinking hard, brushing my mind against Sonagi’s. She is alive and fighting. But I can tell—damn it, I can tell that this victory will also be a loss. The gods are strong, recovered from their eternal idleness, fueled by battle.

And I can also tell that the Prisoner is moving again. I feel her, that pathetic creature, worming around like a parasite. Growing closer. I feel her movements more clearly than before, feel that her being is intruding on my own. It is a horrific feeling, to feel this parasitic being climbing out of its deep burrow, and I shudder.

This needs to end soon.

This needs to end now.

“Take me into the palace,” I demand over the roaring of the waves. I did not demand so before, unwilling to be separated from my Imugi, but now… “Take me,” I snarl as Haneul ignores me, “to the Bonseyo palace.”

“So you can slaughter all the Jeons and take the kingdom for your own? So your Imugi can take to the skies as dragons?” Haneul smiles nastily. “Again, Prophecy, I think that I will politely decline.”

“You don’t have a choice ,” I spit. The firesword hilt is at my waist, and in one deft movement, I take it in my hand and summon the blue blade.

The Dokkaebi’s eyebrows flick upward, unimpressed. “Ooh,” he says. “I’m utterly terrified.” He laughs, cold and brittle, but he is not laughing as I hold the firesword to my own throat. The edge digs into my skin, and I make no movement to stop it. An identical cut appears on Haneul’s neck, and his terror suddenly turns true, assaulting me in waves.

“Do it,” I breathe, “or I cut my throat here.”

I do not jest. Without my Imugi, without Fulfillment, I’ve no reason to live. I will gladly slit my own throat if it means dragging Haneul down with me. I will welcome the rush of green blood. My lips pull away from my teeth in the smile Haneul hates, and his horrified recognition is delicious as he realizes that I’ll do it.

“The palace, Dokkaebi,” I prompt coldly.

He swallows hard, unwilling to be complicit in this taking, unwilling to see this body die. Too unwilling. My teeth gnash together.

“The palace ,” I growl, digging the blade in a little deeper. The pain is welcomed, that sharp bite against my flesh. Haneul’s hand flashes to his own neck, fingers coming away wet and gold. The emperor’s eyes shutter in defeat, and with stiff, jerking movements, he strides toward me.

Victory is sweet as I laugh under my breath. I will make quick work of the Jeons. With the dynasty dead, surely there is room for a new dynasty to begin. A pity that I did not kill Jeon Eunwoo the moment he landed before me on those insufferable wings of his—but I am not overly concerned about a bastard prince who has never possessed the right to rule.

Only when Haneul stiffly hooks an arm around my waist and summons the shadow portal do I take the firesword away from my own throat.

I laugh as we tumble into that eternal, moving night.

So the war will end. Here. Soon.

Now.