Page 15

CHAPTER 15

REN

West of the Haebaek Mountains

Occupied Territories

THE REEDS WERE silver in the moonlight. At Ren’s feet, a dark pool of blood spread from beneath the demon’s body.

It was dead. The same kind of demon as the one that had terrorized Gorye Village, that had taken Big Uncle’s life, and left Little Uncle poisoned—

“Are you all right?”

She lifted her gaze to find the boy watching her, a slight furrow in his brow. For a moment, beneath the moonlight, she thought she glimpsed a gleam of blue in his eyes.

She blinked, and it was gone.

“I’m fine.” She must have imagined it. His eyes were the same as before, a dark, earthy brown. “A demon like this attacked my caravan,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “When it was coming toward me, I felt like I was back in that moment.”

She hadn’t been able to move. She’d tried—she’d wanted, desperately, to save herself—but it was as if the thread that connected her mind and body was severed. It had been the same on the cliffside. Why did this keep happening? Why couldn’t she control her fear?

“I experienced something similar,” the boy said, and her eyes widened in surprise. He’d dispatched the demon so swiftly, she wouldn’t have thought him capable of such paralyzing fear. “I couldn’t move, even though I knew that if I didn’t act, I would die.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“I ended up in that clearing.”

Before she could ask him how he’d ended up there, a loud cracking sound emanated from the demon’s body. It was changing, transforming , its claws retracting.

“Have you seen anything like this before?” she asked him, shivering.

He shook his head, his expression grim.

There was a loud snap of bones breaking, and her heart started to beat fast again.

“Why don’t you wait inside?” the boy said, in a softer voice than the one he’d used previously. “I’ll bury it.”

She nodded. She wasn’t any use to him out here anyway. “If you find anything about where it might have come from,” she said, “could you let me know?”

He nodded. “I will.”

Gripping her umbrella, she headed back toward the cottage. She hadn’t known, before rushing outside, what had lurked among the reeds—though from the shrieking sounds, she’d feared it was another demon—only that she’d wanted to draw it away from the boy and thought she’d have a better chance of facing it out in the open.

Inside the room, it was the same as before she’d left, except that the pallet she’d made for the boy out of her spare clothing was empty.

She sank to her knees in relief. Somehow, after all that, he’d survived. It was almost too incredible to believe. There had been moments in the past two nights when she’d thought of abandoning him—his chances of survival were low, and she was running out of time to find a cure for Little Uncle—and yet she’d remained, cursing her conscience.

Though, she shuddered to think what might have happened had she been alone tonight.

Maybe she’d been meant to save him so that he could save her from the demon.

She took several deep breaths. Her heartbeat hadn’t yet slowed. On her knees, she shuffled to the hearth in the middle of the room. With a stick, she brushed aside a layer of ashes, uncovering the coals beneath, then added dried reeds and wood to rekindle the fire.

The previous owners of the cottage had planted a vegetable garden at the side of the house; she’d discovered it on her second day. It had been overrun with weeds, but she’d managed to salvage several onions, carrots, and potatoes.

With her small knife, she peeled and cut the vegetables, dropping them into a basket of woven reeds. The routine comforted her. Back home, her family would take turns preparing meals, though some of them had more of a talent for it than others. Auntie was by far the worst, though none of them dared complain about her burnt and flavorless meals, except for maybe Little Uncle. He and Ren were passably proficient, sticking to the most basic of ingredients.

Big Uncle was the skilled one. On days when it was his turn to cook, they gathered around the fire early in anticipation. Oftentimes, Hwi would join them, bringing along with her a dessert, usually rice pudding or sweet rice cakes.

It was on those nights, surrounded by the people she loved, that Ren felt the most at peace.

She coughed; her throat was parched. She grabbed for the water jug, only to find it empty.

Outside, the body of the demon was gone; so was the boy. He must have dragged it away.

As she stood on the steps of the cottage, a strong breeze swept over the grass. It set the reeds to swaying, like a great swell in an ocean.

She hurried down the steps toward the back of the cottage, where a narrow path led to a stream. She’d discovered it the same day she’d found the garden. She dipped the jug beneath the surface, hugging her knees as she crouched by the bank, and watched as it slowly filled with water. Her chest felt weighted. Another day had gone by, and she was no closer to finding a cure for Little Uncle’s illness. What if she never did? What if, even now, she was too late?

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The boy was the key. His blood was the same color as Little Uncle’s, same as the demons’. If there was a connection, he was the key to discovering it.

A half hour later, the pot of vegetables was boiling over the fire. The door opened and the boy entered the cottage. He must have made use of the stream because his hair was damp. As he took a seat opposite her, he winced, pressing his hand to his side.

“Your injury,” Ren said, alarmed. She quickly got to her feet, grabbing the last of the makeshift bandages and kneeling beside him. “Let me see.”

He didn’t protest when she moved to help him out of his robe, sliding the thick cloth away from his shoulders.

As her hand touched his skin, she felt him tense beneath her fingers. Her eyes flicked upward to find his face turned from her. “Your fingers are cold,” he mumbled.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, blushing, though she didn’t know why. “I’ll be quick.”

She began to unravel the bandages. The movement brought her close to him, as she had to reach around his back. At last, the final layer of bandages fell away. She stared at the wound, uncomprehending.

It was… healed. While still inflamed along the edges, the skin had sealed over completely. She wasn’t even certain if it would scar .

Her magic had done this?

The boy was staring at the wound as well. He didn’t look as astonished as her; in fact, he looked a little queasy.

“I’m going to change the dressing now,” she said, and he nodded, though he didn’t seem to be listening. With her knife, she cut the stitches, then began to wrap the wound with fresh bandages. When she was finished, she sat back on her heels, eyeing her handiwork.

Her eyes traveled from the wound to the character inked down the right side of his chest. Before, the tattoo had been covered—first by his clothing, then later the bandages—but now she could read it clearly.

“Demon.”

The boy’s eyes darted to hers.

“Sorry,” she said, realizing she must have sounded like she was calling him a demon. “Your tattoo… the character reads ‘Demon.’ Aren’t Sareniyan soldiers usually branded with the symbol of their units?”

“They are,” he hedged, and she sensed his wariness. She needed to tread carefully if she wanted him to open up to her. It couldn’t be a coincidence that both he and the monster had blue blood, that he bore that symbol on his body.

“You said you were a soldier, and yet you’re not a Sareniyan…” She trailed off in confusion.

“It’s not only Sareniyans who serve in the army,” he explained. He reached for his robe, pulling it back over his shoulder. “The majority are recruits from the Occupied Territories and the Under World. When I was eight, my brother and I were indentured to the army by the orphanage where we were living. We served for four years in a scouting unit.”

He lifted his arm and traced the black marks on his skin. “Our unit was called ‘Rabbit’ unit.” She peered closer. It was faint, but the character for Rabbit was inked beneath his collarbone.

“Then, when—?” When had he gotten the other tattoo?

“I don’t remember.”

She frowned, though she recalled he’d told her that the first night. Until today, I didn’t remember anything from before two years ago. At the time, she didn’t understand—he couldn’t have meant that literally. But it appeared that he did. There was no reason for him to lie to her, especially not that first night, when he’d been delirious.

She sat back with a heavy sigh. It didn’t matter if he had a connection to the demon if he didn’t remember what that connection was.

But she wouldn’t take out her frustrations on him.

Eight years old…

When she was eight, Auntie was teaching her how to do backflips, and Big Uncle was taking her out on their rowboat to try her hand at fishing.

“How old are you now?” she asked.

“Seventeen.”

Her stomach fluttered. They were the same age. She’d never spent time with anyone her exact age before. Hwi was a year younger, Little Uncle a year older. It made her feel closer to the boy somehow.

“I am, too,” she said with a blush, glad for the mask that concealed her face. She brought her knees to her chest. “So, you have a brother?”

His guarded expression returned.

“I have a brother, too,” she explained. “Though technically he’s my uncle. He’s fifteen years younger than his sister—my aunt—who raised us. I’m here because of him.”

Ren took a deep breath. Until now, she’d been careful not to reveal too much about herself—though that hadn’t been too difficult, as he’d been unconscious for most of their time together. She still hadn’t any idea why he was in that clearing in the first place. He could be, as she first suspected, someone sent to kill her, like those that Auntie had warned her about, having seen her Light. Yet, she had her doubts. He’d saved her. Even if he didn’t know who she was, a cold-blooded assassin wouldn’t have risked his life to save a stranger. The boy was a protector, not a killer.

“He was scratched while defending me,” she said. “By a demon, like the one outside.” The boy’s expression shifted at her words, a furrow appearing on his brow. “Soon after, he became ill. I left to find a cure, but I didn’t have any idea of where to search until…” You. “Until tonight,” she finished instead. She didn’t think it was the right time to bring up her suspicions that he was connected to the demon. “Did you find any clues of where it might have come from?”

The boy reached into his robe, retrieving a scrap of cloth from an inner pocket.

He passed it to her, and she took it carefully, turning the cloth in her hands. Embroidered in black thread was a folded wing.

She frowned. “I’ve never seen this emblem. Have you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve seen it before, but I don’t know what it means. It was stamped on a crate in the luggage car of the train I was on. It’s possible the demon was being transported within and escaped during the crash.”

Train. It was a word she hadn’t heard in many years. She’d glimpsed one, once, from the edge of the Floating World. It had threaded across the ground into the distance, like a silver river.

“This train…,” she asked. “Where was it coming from?”

“The Under World.”

He’d mentioned that name before. “I don’t understand. The underworld, like the place from myth?”

The boy watched her with a slight frown. “It’s a city. Beneath the Floating World.”

Ren was confused—she had no recollection of such a place. She’d been seven when she’d fled, but surely she’d remember an entire city. Or perhaps, she thought bitterly, her tutors had never taught her of its existence.

“I have to go there. To the Under World. Will you take me?” The boy might be a stranger to her, but he was a stranger who had saved her life, and he clearly knew how to fight. More importantly, she needed to keep him close to discover what his connection was to the demons.

A shadow fell across the boy’s features. “I have my own purpose for being here. I’m a sword-for-hire. About a week ago, I took a job.”

Ren frowned. “What kind of job?”

He hesitated, and Ren wondered if he was considering keeping the truth from her. “I’m looking for a girl,” he said finally. “I’m to bring her back with me to the Under World.”

Ren hid her shock well, holding her body still and giving no outward reactions. “A girl? Are you bringing her back to your… client? What do they want with her?” She tried to sound casual, as anyone would when made apprised of an unusual situation.

“I don’t know his name. He’s young, a captain in the Sareniyan army. I don’t think he means her any harm. He wants her brought back alive.”

A captain in the Sareniyan army… Ren hadn’t any idea of who he could be, or what he’d want with her. When she searched her memories, she couldn’t think of anyone who might desire to help her.

“What are you getting in return?” she asked, to satiate her own curiosity. She’d left her own world to save Little Uncle. What would motivate someone like him to leave his?

The boy’s eyes darted to her before shifting away. “What else?” He shrugged. “Money.”

Ren knew immediately he wasn’t telling the whole truth. She was rather adept at spotting a lie, from a nervous tic to the slightest change in an expression. For a whole summer she’d assisted the caravan’s fortune teller, who was a bit of a charlatan, and learned to identify the signs. The boy was easier to read than most; his cheeks had flushed a curious shade of blue.

There was something he wasn’t telling her, and until she figured out what that was, she’d have to be careful not to trust him.

“I see.”

She had so many questions, none of which she could ask him without raising suspicion. Were there others sent after her? How many? What did they think the source of the light was? Did they know that she had… powers?

She’d predicted this would happen—Auntie had warned her—and the boy had confirmed what she already knew. She just had to keep to the plan.

“Where was the train headed?” she asked, and was glad for the steadiness of her voice.

“Seorawon.”

“Will there be another train there? One that will return to the Under World?”

“It’s possible, though trains don’t run often. Usually once every two weeks.”

She cursed inwardly. If there wasn’t a train, she’d find another way. There had to be transportation that could get her there faster than walking would.

“That’s where you’re heading, isn’t it? Let’s travel there together.” The fact that she was the one he was looking for didn’t change anything. She still needed to keep him close to discover if his blood was the same as the demon’s. Perhaps there was something in his past, in the memories he’d forgotten, that could illuminate its origin. And he had been hired to protect her, as the mysterious captain wanted her alive—he would be doing just that.

He had no reason to suspect her of deceiving him. If he was chasing the light, he’d be looking for someone east of the Haebaek Mountains, not west.

“What’s your name?” she asked, regaining her spirits now that she had a plan.

“Sunho.”

It’s true that he hadn’t yet agreed , but Ren had always been persuasive.

“What’s yours?” he asked.

Sunho might be a terrible liar, but she was an excellent one. “My name is Hwi.”