Page 19

CHAPTER 19

SUNHO

Seorawon, Port City on the River Nakjin

Occupied Territories

SUNHO PULLED HWI out of the way of an oncoming vehicle, turning her in his arms so that his back was exposed to the rush of Seorawon’s traffic—horse-drawn carriages and rickshaws barreling in seemingly haphazard directions down cobblestone streets. His heart pounded in his chest; this was the third time she’d been almost trampled since they’d entered the city earlier that afternoon.

“Sorry!” She peered up at him, her hand gripping his sleeve. “I’ve just never seen so many large buildings. Not like this.” Her voice was breathless behind her mask. “Sunho, look!” Her hand found his, pulling him toward a street cart vendor selling fried dough flattened and dipped in sugar.

The vendor, an elderly woman, chuckled at Hwi’s exuberance, her smile accentuating her deeply lined face. Sunho unstrung a coin from his belt and handed it to her. She then grabbed a thick cake, folding a piece of rice paper over the side before presenting it to Hwi.

As Hwi reached to lift her mask, Sunho turned to give her privacy. He wanted to see her face, more than he’d wanted anything in a long time, but not until she was ready to show it to him. His gaze landed on the clock tower in the distance, looming above the rest of the buildings. It was the tallest structure in the city. White doves winged across its bright face, the hands of which pointed southeast by west.

He was running out of time. He needed to charter an airship over the mountains if he wanted to reach the girl before the other mercenaries. Those who’d remained on the train would have set off toward the light days ago. There was still a chance he could find her before them, if he left now.

“Sunho?” Hwi’s mask was back in its place. “The vendor said there’s a fountain near the bridge that’s quite beautiful. Would you like to see it?”

If he chartered a faster airship, if the mercenaries had been waylaid or took the wrong path, he could reach the girl. Yet none of that seemed to matter, because he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay, just a little longer. “I would,” he said.

They left the congested area around the vendor’s cart and headed toward the river. A wooden bridge spanned the entire width of it, connecting the larger part of the city with a quay of docks on the other side. Boats with bright sails floated along the serene waters, steered by standing oarsmen who cut great swaths in the river with their paddles.

“Make way!”

Hwi and Sunho stepped apart as a carpenter walked between them, carrying a large plank of wood. The same storm that had battered the train must have gone through the city. A part of the bridge that had collapsed was now being fixed up by a small army of craftspeople.

The entrance of the bridge was marked with a red-and-green pavilion, which was also currently under repair. Scaffolding had been temporarily erected to support the construction, and the crisscrossed structure of wooden poles and planks reminded him of those that stood outside the Under World.

The fountain sat in a small square directly in front of the pavilion. It had three tiers that varied in size, with the smallest at the top and the largest at the bottom.

Climbing onto the edge of the bottommost tier, Hwi began to walk around the rim. Though he had no doubt of her balance, Sunho mirrored her movements.

Townsfolk had tossed coins and trinkets into the fountain’s largest basin, and they sparkled like jewels beneath the water. At the top of the fountain was a marble statue of a girl with wings. Though the artist had kept the girl’s features vague, indistinct, he’d rendered her wings in exquisite detail. They sprouted proudly from the arch of her back, and Sunho felt, though he couldn’t know the sculptor’s intention for sure, that the statue was meant to express joy.

“If I had wings, would you steal them?”

He glanced up at Hwi. Her face was turned from him. She didn’t stop but continued to walk along the fountain’s rim. Spray dewed the top of her head, catching in her hair like stars.

He knew she meant her question as a jest, yet he gave it serious thought.

They’d completed one turn of the fountain before he answered. “If you had wings,” he said, with all the sincerity he possessed, “I’d want to see you fly.”

She stopped then, turning toward him. The abrupt ceasing of movement caused her to lose her balance, her arms pinwheeling, and he reached out a hand instinctually, but she quickly regained her footing.

A stray wind swept the spray of the fountain toward them, dousing them both in water. His lashes were damp as he gazed up at her.

“My home,” she said quietly, “have I—have I told you about it?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know why she wished to tell him now, but he didn’t question her, listening carefully.

“It’s located in a great valley. You’ll know you’ve reached it when you see a river that winds like a blue dragon. There’s a small village nestled in the crook in the river. If you arrive early enough, you might catch the sheep in the pastures. Are you picturing it in your mind?”

It was a wonder how she could express herself; her hands had thrown wide when she’d described the valley. When she’d described the river, she’d swayed on her feet, as if bracing herself in waters up to her waist. Her body showed what her face would look like, every emotion flitting across her features, her expression alight.

“There’s something I need to confess to you,” she said. “It’s about my home, why I didn’t go back. It would have been dangerous for the people there.”

He frowned. Dangerous?

“I haven’t been telling you the whole truth. I’ve wanted to, but I’m afraid…”

She trailed off, and his expression softened.

“There’s something I want to tell you, too,” he said, to give her more time, and because he also hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. “The reason I need to find the girl. It’s not because of money.”

“I didn’t think so,” Hwi said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re not greedy.”

His chest swelled with warmth at her words. “The captain who hired me, he knows where my brother is. Once I bring the girl to him, he’ll tell me where he is.”

She went very still. “Your brother…,” she said softly. “Junho.”

He nodded. “I’ve been searching for him for two years.”

She lowered her head, as if overcome with some strong emotion. Sunho had anticipated her confession, but now felt a churning in his stomach. Was she upset that he hadn’t told her the truth? He hadn’t known her well enough before to confide about Junho.

“I wish things were different,” she said, and there was a catch in her voice. She sounded… regretful. “Just know, later, when you—” She broke off. “Just know that I believe you’re a good person.”

Sunho’s chest ached. Was he a good person? They were his brother’s words, from the only memory he’d had of him, before he’d met her. You’re the best of us. Though he hadn’t believed him.

“I have to go,” Hwi said.

He realized, with a sinking feeling, that she’d changed her mind. Whatever she’d meant to tell him, she wouldn’t now, knowing he’d lied to her.

“Wait,” Sunho said. “You’ll need coin for passage on one of the boats.” They’d checked the train schedule when they’d first arrived, and there wasn’t another one due to depart for at least a week. A boat would get her to the Under World much faster. He reached for the string of coins in his sash, twisting until it broke in two, and pressing the larger portion into her hands. “Take this.”

Her fingers circled around his. “Sunho, I—”

He wanted her to tell him what she had meant to tell him before. He wanted her to ask him to stay.

“Goodbye,” she said, letting go of his hands.

A hollow feeling spread outward from the pit of his stomach. “Goodbye, Hwi.”

He let his hands fall, turning from the fountain.

As he walked away, the warmth that was always present when he was with her dissipated. It was the light he’d sensed within her, growing fainter the farther he walked until, with a heavy heart, he couldn’t feel it any longer.

SUNHO CHARTERED AN airship to take him east over the Haebaek Mountains. Its captain, a woman of indeterminate age who wore a large patch over her left eye, had set a strict departure, near sunset, and had only agreed to take Sunho on board when he’d given her the entirety of his remaining coins. They’d been meant to pay for the return trip, as well, but he decided to worry about that later.

The port was a short walk from the square where the clock tower was located. The vendor who sold Hwi her cake had been replaced by another, this one selling fruit dipped in sugar to a throng of eager children.

With evening approaching, crowds had flocked to the square. Groups of city folk hurriedly made last-minute purchases at carts that appeared to have tripled in number since the morning, selling not just food but sundry items—everything from hair trinkets to fish-shaped kites. Unlike earlier in the day, the people seemed rushed and less friendly now, bumping into one another, spewing harsh words, and casting baleful glares. Sunho stepped aside to avoid colliding with two men carrying a palanquin between them, catching a glimpse of the young woman within before she snapped her window closed.

Above the square, the minute hand of the clock was catching up to the hour. It was time for him to head back. Still, he found himself hesitating. His gaze wandered down the boulevard toward the river, which was mostly hidden from view by the tall buildings.

Had Hwi found a ship’s captain who would take her on one of their boats? If she’d found one shortly after they’d parted ways, it was possible she’d already left the city.

The thought made the hollow feeling in his chest expand. It hadn’t gone away since he’d left her at the fountain.

The feeling was similar to when he thought of Junho—like there was a void inside him that only his brother could fill.

But something had changed. Though he’d regained more memories, they were distant and hazy. They were of the past. His memories of Hwi were bright, close enough that he could feel them, like the glimmer of sunlight through her paper umbrella.

Standing beneath the clock tower, he couldn’t see the fountain, but when he closed his eyes, he could picture Hwi as she stood on the rim, the outstretched wings of the statue of the celestial maiden behind her.

He hadn’t known what to make of her when he’d first woken in the reed field to see her masked face staring down at him. But as they went on their journey, protecting each other, confiding in each other, she’d become someone he trusted, a friend.

She’d been afraid to tell him something, but he’d wanted to reassure her. There was nothing she could say to him that would make him turn from her.

The world was a dark and endless night, and for a long time, he’d wandered it alone, lost. But Hwi was a fixed star. When he was with her, even the Demon was quiet. Since the night with the outlaws, he hadn’t felt its presence at all. He’d wanted to find Junho because he believed his brother could rid him of the Demon. But maybe, staying with Hwi, he could learn to control it on his own.

It felt wrong, leaving her. So then why had he done it? To find the light?

The light that called to him was different now—it was the light within her.

A hand snatched at his shoulder, and he turned abruptly to find an old woman scowling up at him. He recognized the vendor who’d sold Hwi the cinnamon cakes.

“What are you doing here? It’s almost sundown,” she hissed, her eyes darting behind him. He couldn’t be certain, but her expression appeared fearful. “Where is she? The girl you were with.”

Sunho felt a chill sweep through him. “What’s wrong?” he asked sharply.

“You need to get back to her.” Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “She’s in terrible danger.”

Sunho didn’t stay to ask more questions, tearing through the crowd. The mercenaries. Some must have stayed in the city. Hwi was around the same age of the girl they were searching for. It didn’t matter that she wore a mask. The mercenaries would kill first before confirming whether they’d gotten the right girl.

Had the square always been this crowded? Hundreds of people moved in all directions, cursing and shouting at him as he shoved his way through.

If Hwi was still in the city, she’d be at the docks, on the other side of the bridge.

He had to reach her. He had to—

A piercing sensation ripped through his skull, like a nail struck through the bone. It was the same feeling as when he was on the train, when the monster had appeared. He dropped to his knees, gripping his head. The clock tower gonged, tolling the hour. The crowd broke around him, as if he were a rock in a fast-moving stream. He felt like he was drowning, the pressure on his mind unbearable, like he was deep underwater.

Time seemed to slow as, in front of him, a man dressed in black robes walked by.

Sunho didn’t understand. The monster had wings, claws, but this man walked out in the open; no one else seemed to take any notice of him.

Sunho stared as the man lifted a gloved hand to his black cowl, removing the hood. His back was to Sunho, but Sunho would have recognized him in any situation, in any place. He was dressed in odd clothing, his hair falling to his shoulders, but it was him .

“Junho!” Sunho shouted.

His brother kept walking.

Sunho struggled to his feet, ignoring the pressure that beat in his mind like wings.

Junho was there . The crowd surged around them, breaking them apart. He lost sight of his brother and was seized by panic until he spotted him again just ahead.

He scrambled the last few steps, shortening the distance. He grabbed Junho’s shoulder. He turned. Sunho let go, stumbling back.

A stranger stared back at him. With a scowl, the man shrugged off Sunho’s hand.

As the man disappeared into the crowd, the pain receded from Sunho’s mind.

He hadn’t been Junho. It had never been him. His brother was gone.