Page 76

Lina

Standing on the jade Hwangcheon Bridge above the rushing Seocheongang River, a soft wind carrying stray cherry blossoms curls through my hair.

Silently, I hold Rui’s hand tightly in mine. We stand together here, past the middle of this bridge between life and death above rose-colored waters.

The lilac sky above glows with periwinkle stars, and a white mist curls around our ankles. Rui gazes silently at the colorful mountaintops in the distance, and the red thread swirls between us, carrying his heavy melancholy.

He is whole here, uninjured—and so am I. I wear not the bloodied stealthsuit I donned in the Bonseyo pavilion, but a white nightdress—one identical to the garb I wore when I first visited this strange realm. My necklace of keys is heavy around my neck. I clutch them in my palm, yet it is Rui I focus on; Rui, clad in plain white robes with his inky hair shifting in the wind, his skin whole and healthy and supple…

So unlike the ashen hue it was when we… When he…

I close my eyes. Swallow hard.

It is a slight disturbance in the air, similar to the ripple of a flat stone skipping across a still pond, that warns me of another presence atop Hwangcheon Bridge. My eyes flutter open in the grim presence of Fate. Before us stands Gameunjang, her head bowed, red locks fluttering in the gentle breeze. In my hand, Rui’s tightens, spasming once, then twice as the goddess meets our gaze.

“For what it is worth,” she says quietly, “I did not enjoy this deception. For lying to you, I am sorry.”

My hand falls from Rui’s and twitches at my side, but Rui—turning sharply like a shark having scented blood—speaks first.

“There was never any way to defeat the Prophecy,” he breathes with uncontained rage, and the soft fury in his voice is more terrifying than any of his snarls ever could be. “Or our deaths.” I wince as he lets go of my hand, taking a small, predatory step toward the delicate goddess. The way that he prowls, catlike and intent, seems to unnerve even her, although I suspect she has tried not to show it. It is a faint tremor in her lips that gives her away. “Everything you urged me to do only led us closer to Fulfillment. My only question, Gameunjang, is why ? Why,” he growls softly, “damn the mortal realm in such a way? Why…”

I take quick steps toward him as his voice breaks. Rui shudders as I join his side. “Why torment Lina like this?” he finishes, voice shaking. He is trembling so violently that I suspect he is restraining himself from attacking Gameunjang. “She has done nothing to deserve your wrath.”

Gameunjang barely even looks at him, instead watching me steadily. I seethe underneath her gaze, but when she speaks, my shoulders slump.

“You still think you have lost this war? Dokkaebi. You have won ,” says Gameunjang, spreading her hands as if in supplication. “Don’t you see? Tell him, Lina,” she urges quietly, and Rui turns to me, his face softening in confusion. I let my hands rise unsteadily into the air.

That dream of Sonagi, the words she whispered to me in those shit-stained sewers—the one that my mind showed me in the depths of my despair… It comes back to me now, an answer hidden within me all along.

“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.”

The Prophecy was never meant for victory. Its wording seemed to be its triumph, but all along it was its downfall.

“And the Child of Venom will rule all

Before making her home in Yeomra’s halls.”

It’s almost funny, I think, that triumph hid so well in plain sight. That, all along, the dreaded Fulfillment was the way to victory.

After all, it was never specified for how long the “Child of Venom” would reign, nor how long it would be before she made her home in Yeomra’s halls. A bitter smile twists my lips as I try, haltingly, to explain what The Empress told me in the hall of mirrors.

When the Yeouiju died, the Imugi would follow. My death will be their death. Final. Absolute. As long as I bind them here…

“ This is why, Dokkaebi,” Gameunjang says, looking toward the mountains in the distance, turning to lean against the rail of the jade bridge. “This is why I had to ensure the Prophecy came to fruition, especially with the involvement of my…brethren. They do not listen to me; they do not understand why this Prophecy had to be fulfilled, how their involvement could possibly ruin everything… With Lina’s death will come the death of her Imugi. Yes. I did everything I could to ensure that this fate here, now, came to fruition. I gave you misleading orders. I sent Yego to Lina, hoping he would chase her, that she would thus return to her body faster.

“For there is another fate yet that must be met. One that necessitated that Lina be fully herself when she died, when she entered Jeoseung. It is Lina who will find her true destiny here, in this underworld. Not the Prophecy. Shin Lina.” Gameunjang pauses, watching the river below. “But first, she had to learn three truths.”

My hand drifts to the three charms hanging from the fifth key upon my necklace. A small bag of barley. A tiny voice box.

Rui’s face is stricken. “I don’t understand.”

“I will be honest.” Gameunjang sighs, reaching out to run her finger along the petal of a passing cherry blossom. “Much of what I have done, I have done for love. This you must understand. Love is not only a mortal affliction; it weakens even the strongest of divinities. We do foolish things for the ones we love, don’t we?” Her smile is partly sad as she glances askance toward me. “And you know what comes now, Lina.”

I do , I reply sharply, staring at this traitorous goddess, violence churning in my blood for how deftly she played us. While a small, rational part of me can understand the deception, can acknowledge that some paths to victory are shadowed by secrets, I have never liked being lied to. Yet my entire life, I have been manipulated, made to dance on my strings for another. And for this, for all of this, I blame her . That spiteful blame must simmer in my gaze, for Gameunjang blinks, once then twice, as if questioning whether I truly possess enough insolence to insult a deity.

Of course I do.

Gameunjang’s smile turns bitter. “This was a forging, Lina. All I did was light, and stoke, the flames. They will continue to burn. You will continue to burn.” The edges of her body turn fuzzy; she begins to fade from the bridge. “You know what awaits you. Perhaps you will thank me, some centuries from now. But I will not hold my breath in waiting.” Like morning mist retreating underneath the morning sun, she vanishes, as if she were never here.

Slowly, I turn to Rui, whose confusion drifts down the bond between us. Yet he tries—oh, he tries—to smile crookedly in Gameunjang’s absence.

“You know, little thief,” he murmurs, “I always hoped my death would be rather dramatic, with much fanfare. I am not entirely disappointed.” His throat bobs, and a lance of pain shoots through our bond. Betrayal. Anguish. “Chan…” As I reach up to touch his face in comfort, his eyes search mine for solace…and widen.

“Brown,” he breathes, and as I blink in confusion, he shakes his head in wonder. “Your eyes are brown , little thief.” Rui’s lips raise into a disbelieving smile. “Brown, like acorns on an ancient oak. Summer soil, rich and dark and full of life.”

Truly? A small smile tinges my lips. Distracted by Gameunjang, I’d not noticed, but when I run my tongue over my teeth, I feel no fangs. And my tongue itself is no longer dark, no longer forked. Scales do not appear on my skin when summoned.

In death, I am…myself.

And death does not feel like an ending at all. No, it feels just as The Empress in my mind said: a beginning . Taking Rui’s hand in mine, I squeeze it gently as grief rises, a bitter wave within me.

I do not mind that I have suffered, but Rui—my husband, my soul-stitched—has, and the knowledge hurts more than Chan’s blade ever could.

Yet we must move, must cross the bridge completely. We are already far past its middle, unable to turn back to life, but it is urgent that we step foot into Jeoseung as quickly as possible. To summon the Imugi into this realm with my death, there is still one more thing I must do.

We need to move quickly , I tell him. We do not have much time.

Rui’s brows furrow. “I don’t understand,” he says hoarsely, reaching out to graze the three truths with a trembling hand. As it falls back to his side, I grab it, gently tugging his hand to my lips and pressing a small kiss to his wrist. His eyes soften, and his lips twitch as I pull him forward, bare feet pounding on cold jade.

“I will never deny another adventure with you, little thief,” he half laughs as we run, together, across the length of the bridge. “As puzzling as this is.”

We sprint through the mist, my hair whipping behind me. I cannot sign as we run, with one hand in his, but I do not know how I would explain, anyways. Better to show him.

The Empress’ words, whispered in the hall of mirrors, echo within me. My death will bring the death of the Imugi, but only if I permanently bind them to this realm—a power which only the leader of Jeoseung may access.

Yeomra’s words to the Prophecy come back to me.

To rule, one must first die.

And if The Empress spoke true, there is only one dead soul that Jeoseung’s abandoned throne will take.

It would be a lie to say that I understand such a thing, but the golden truths bang against my chest as my feet meet the dew-slick grass and we leap from the bridge, now well and truly in death. A forest looms around us, skeletal white trees dappled with sweet cherry blossoms, gorgeous mountains of sparkling colors glittering in the distance.

From behind one of those trees steps Eunbi.

Her eyes are wide as she barrels toward me. “Lina!” she cries, launching herself to hug my middle before giving to Rui the same treatment. His hands lift in surprise as she embraces him, and a soft, wondering emotion flits through the bond before Eunbi pulls away, hastily smoothing down her pale yellow hanbok.

“If you’re here,” she says, waveringly, “does that mean…”

I crouch down before her, flicking an errant curl away from her face. I cannot summon the floating words here, and although reaching for my voice does not feel as traumatizing as it once did, it is still far easier to turn to Rui.

Tell her that we must reach the throne. The one that sent Yoonho flying through the air. Seeing his puzzlement, I try my best to explain as much as I can. The Imugi fall when I fall. But only after I have bound them here. Right now, they still live. I need to call them to this realm. And to do that—I need the throne.

Rui blinks as if he has begun to realize what fate we run toward, yet a corner of his lips quirk as if he is entirely pleased to find death as chaotic as the world above. Quickly, he relays the message to Eunbi, who nods—scanning my face and evidently sensing the urgency of the situation.

“All right,” she says and quickly starts down the path. “Follow me.”

A small village comes into view, gleaming underneath the periwinkle stars. It is the same village I saw in my dream, and I know the Talons must be here, in one of these simple white hanoks. The wood from which they are carved is smooth, white, and—

“They’re made from bone,” says Rui in equal parts distaste and delight. “How macabre.”

“This way!” Eunbi cries, running across the mist-swirled cobblestones. Hastily, I quicken my pace even further. Eunbi is terrifically fast as she leads us to the village outskirts, where a field of dark-purple flowers blooms.

“The palace is at the midpoint of the realm,” Eunbi says as we cut through the field. “Any soul from any village can reach it. There are lots of villages here, with people who died around the same time. That’s how it works.”

My eyes widen as the rich soil beneath us begins to slope downward, forming stairs leading toward shadow. Eunbi casts a look over her shoulder. “Don’t be scared,” she assures me, already taking the steps downward. “It’s just a portal. Kind of like the ones Rui has.”

“I’m right behind you,” Rui murmurs as Eunbi disappears into darkness. Heart ramming in my chest, I take the steps, breathing in the smell of loam and rainwater. As my foot descends toward what must be the final step, an invisible force yanks me away into a swirling maelstrom of glittering darkness—and spits me out onto a bone-white floor.

Small slippers appear before me, and Eunbi helps me up just as Rui appears, tumbling out of the portal and somehow landing on his feet, as graceful as a cat. Swallowing hard, I look around, squeezing Eunbi’s hand in awe.

The walls are cavernous, looming far above, the same white as the floor yet somehow beautiful, bone resembling marble. Balconies rise all the way to the very top, their arches engraved with twisting patterns: hands, reaching upward, fingers stretched toward some unattainable longing. A carpet of what seems to be rich, black moss creeps steadily onward a few inches from where we stand, sprouting with those same purple flowers as the field from which we came. It cuts through bone-carved benches, leading to the throne at the forefront of it all: a skeleton throne on a matching dais, bleached and looming—upon which sits a familiar crown…carved from a dark purple wood with rising thorns that resemble hands, the same hands carved onto the balconies overhead. It is the same crown I saw on The Empress, atop her—my—head.

My mouth goes dry.

“Go,” Eunbi urges, looking up at me. “Go, Lili.”

I must, I must —and yet my feet do not move across the carpet. Although I know this is my destiny, something in me still recoils at the sight of such…power.

Is this truly what’s destined for me? To take the mantle of Jeoseung for myself? I am no leader, no ruler, despite what Yoonho and Sang may have seen, despite what I may have been told in the hall of mirrors.

Recognition flickers down the red thread, and Rui gently places his hand in mine. “We’ll go with you,” he says softly, eyes trailing the path toward the throne. “You’re not alone. Let’s end this war, together.”

“Together,” a new voice echoes, this one raspy from years of smoking, joined by three other voices—two soft and chiming, one stern and deep.

Lips parting, I turn…

To see the Talons, standing before me, small smiles on their faces.

Chara and Chryse leap forward to embrace me, wrapping their arms around me with soft cries of both joy and grief, blond hair tickling my face. Sang and Yoonho join them, and for a moment, everything is as it should have been—us, together.

A family.

“Lina,” Yoonho whispers as the twins reluctantly pull away, “it’s time.”

I slip my hand back into Rui’s, who is staring at the Talons with glassy eyes. He dips a head in thanks and acknowledgment to Sang, and Sang nods back, lips curving happily upward. Eunbi takes my other hand eagerly, and with the Talons at my back—a force of warmth and love—I begin the path toward the throne.