Page 3

CHAPTER 3

SUNHO

The Under World

Ninth Ward Mithril Factory Warehouse

SUNHO’S EYES SWEPT the warehouse floor as the door silently shut behind them, cutting off the light from Tag’s lantern. Immediately he noticed the presence of large quantities of mithril; the air felt weighted, and there was a low humming vibration that raised the small hairs on the backs of his arms. Out of the darkness came a hazy blue glow emanating from hundreds of metal crates. Reading the labels on the nearest, he saw that most were headed to the Core, where merchants would resell the precious metal for profit. A few were marked for Yongin Military Base, the largest of Sareniya’s military installations outside the Wall.

“Sunho,” Yurhee called from halfway up a metal staircase. He joined her on the walkway at the top, where she was removing a grille from the wall. “This should take us to the foreman’s office. Hurry, we’re running out of time.” Sunho had caught a glimpse of the countdown timer on the explosives, set for thirty minutes—at least half of that time had passed. But that wasn’t the only factor putting pressure on them. There was the Sareniyan soldier they’d left unconscious who could wake up at any moment, and Tag was vulnerable.

Ducking his head, Sunho climbed into the vent, using his forearms and hips to shimmy his body through the narrow space.

“Left or right?” he asked as the chamber ended, splitting off in two directions.

“Left,” Yurhee said. “It should be just below you.”

His fingers slid between the grates of a covering, and he pried it open. Grabbing the edge, he dropped onto a table strewn with papers.

Yurhee landed beside him. “Damn it,” she cursed. “It’s pitch-black in here. I can’t see a thing.”

“There’s a switch,” Sunho said, spotting it on the far wall. Jumping down from the table, he moved across the room to flip it. With a low buzz, a light bulb flickered on, casting a harsh yellow light over the cluttered table. Toward the back of the room was a large desk, beside which stood an eight-paneled folding screen and several filing cabinets.

Turning, he found Yurhee’s gaze upon him, and realized his mistake.

The room had been in total darkness. It was the kind of darkness that was unique to the Under World as—apart from mithril—there was little to no natural light. Those who left the Under World only to return remarked that it had no comparison in the outside world. It was a darkness that felt like death. Sunho shouldn’t have been able to see anything .

His mind raced with an explanation, something Yurhee could accept.

This was why he didn’t work with the same crew twice. The longer he worked with others, the greater the chance they’d learn about his deepest-buried secret.

Yurhee turned away first. Sliding off the table, she went to the desk, riffling through the papers before opening drawers in the filing cabinets.

Maybe he’d imagined her reaction. More likely she was ignoring what she saw, focusing on the more immediate problem.

He would have helped her search for the map, except he didn’t know what it looked like, and there were dozens of maps among the order forms and missives. Sunho let his gaze wander to one that spanned the length of the wall, a detailed rendering of the Under World. The circular city was split equally into nine wards. The Outer Ring was composed entirely of slums and was separated from Mid City by the factory compounds. There were nine factories total, located at the widest ends of the wards. As the wards tapered inward, another circle was drawn around the area where the nine wards converged—the Core, where the wealthiest citizens resided.

“It must be behind here,” Yurhee said, moving to the folding screen. As she shoved it aside, Sunho’s ears registered a sharp click .

“Wait,” he said, as her boot snagged a tripwire. A door that had been hidden behind the paneled screen swung open.

Sunho reached for his sword. Grabbing it by the hilt, he unsheathed the blade from its scabbard.

He was struck by the similar pressure he’d felt before, when he’d entered the warehouse—the strong presence of mithril.

From the doorway stepped a wolf.

Sunho had never seen one before, but he knew they roamed the plains outside the city’s Wall. Those wolves were skin and bones. This one was lean, with corded, rippling muscles. A thick, sticky substance dripped from between its bared teeth as it released a low, reverberant growl.

Yurhee stepped back, hitting the folding screen, which rattled behind her.

“Watch out!” Sunho shouted as the wolf lunged. Yurhee sprang aside, tumbling to the floor, and it crashed into the screen.

As it tore through wood and paper, Sunho helped Yurhee to stand. “Are you all right?” She’d cut herself when she fell, and the copper smell of her blood tinged the air.

“I’m fine. What is that?”

A slight tremor coursed through Sunho’s left hand. “I don’t know, but I’m going to kill it.”

He led Yurhee to the other side of the desk to lean against the wall, then moved to take position at the center of the room. He shook out his hand, bringing it to join the other on the handle of his sword. The wolf followed his movements.

Letting out a raw, animalistic cry, it leaped toward Sunho. He lunged to meet it, sliding beneath the creature at the last second and sweeping his sword beneath its body, slashing it from throat to navel.

With a grotesque groan, the wolf collapsed to the floor. Sunho approached where it lay dead in a pool of its own blood, the viscous liquid spreading like ink across the floor.

He stood riveted to the spot, staring at the blood that should have been red but was a deep, crystalline blue. His head felt foggy, as if he were underwater. His ears wouldn’t stop ringing.

“Sunho, Sunho .” He snapped out of his daze. Yurhee stood beside him. She must have been calling his name for some time. Her voice was high-pitched, urgent. “We have to go.” She raced to the hidden room, reappearing seconds later with a folded paper. The map. Before she stuffed it into her belt, he caught sight of a symbol inked onto the surface—a black wing, folded in half. “Come on, hurry!”

They ran back the way they’d come, Yurhee stepping on Sunho’s shoulder to climb into the vent. He leaped from the table to grab the edge, pulling himself up after her. Tag was waiting for them around the corner of the warehouse, crouched in the shadows.

They escaped over the wall just as the canister bombs detonated—the explosion lighting up the sky.

THEY FLED TO the backyard of a teashop, several blocks from the factory.

“We scoped this place out last week,” Yurhee said, after catching her breath. “It’s abandoned. We should be safe here for now.”

A light sparked as Tag lit a lantern with a match, then latched it to a hook on the wall. As he turned, his eyes widened, catching sight of the cut on Yurhee’s arm. “You’re hurt,” he said, bending to take a closer look. “I told you to be careful.”

“You worry too much,” Yurhee chided.

Sunho left them alone to tend to Yurhee’s wound.

The backyard of the teashop was littered with the remnants of what appeared to have once been large clay pots, now in pieces scattered across the dirt. Like most courtyards, the roof wasn’t enclosed, and dust swirled around him as he walked toward the closest wall, leaning back against the cold surface and closing his eyes.

He didn’t have to wait long before he heard Yurhee and Tag’s approach, the clay shards breaking beneath their boots.

“Your payment, as promised.” Yurhee held out a double strand of coins. He glanced at her arm, where Tag had wrapped a thick bandage. Taking the coins, he dropped them into the inner pocket of his coat.

Yurhee tilted her head to the side, studying him. “Most wouldn’t have finished the job, once they learned what it was we were searching for. Whoever that map belonged to might send someone after us.”

Sunho thought of the symbol on the map—the black wing. He’d never seen it before.

“It doesn’t matter.” It didn’t matter if the map belonged to the foreman, the minister who owned the factory, or General Iljin himself. None of them had anything to do with him. “I need the money.”

“What for?”

“I’m searching for my brother,” he said.

Normally he wouldn’t have told the truth, but it was late, and he was tired. It didn’t matter, anyway. He would never see Yurhee and Tag again.

They already knew too much about him. Yurhee probably suspected he was different than other swords-for-hire. He could still feel the question in her gaze, when he’d seen the light switch in the dark.

Earlier, Yurhee had said he was just like them . For a moment, he’d almost let himself believe it.

“We were indentured as children to the Sareniyan army,” Sunho explained. “If he’s still alive, that’s where I’ll find him.”

At least, he believed that’s where Junho was. He couldn’t remember where he’d last seen his brother.

“So you need the money to free him,” Yurhee said. “I can admire such a goal. I’d do the same for Tag.”

Behind her, Tag’s features softened, and his mouth quirked in a half smile.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Yurhee sighed. “I’ll make it quick. Tag is sentimental, you see.”

Tag’s smile fell, clearly in disagreement.

“If you ever find yourself in trouble and need help…” Yurhee placed a gloved hand on her waist. “You can find us at Wolryudang. It’s a teahouse at the edge of the seventh ward. Ask for the most beautiful girl in the Under World—you’ll be sure to find me.”

With a nod from Tag and a two-fingered salute from Yurhee, they took off, slipping through the back gate and disappearing from view.

Sunho could have left then, but instead he turned from the gate, heading deeper into the courtyard. His apartment was in the fifth ward of the Outer Ring, on the opposite side of the city. It would take him the rest of the night to get back, and that was if he didn’t run into a patrol. They were out in greater numbers as more Sareniyans flooded the city ahead of the Festival of Light.

As he wandered the abandoned courtyard, he was reminded of another.

Two years ago, he’d woken up beside the old mithril factory in the first ward, which had shut down years prior, without any memories—of who he was, of what had happened to him.

Except for one.

Though, even that memory was hazy, shrouded in pain and confusion. From it, he knew his name, he knew that he had an older brother named Junho, and that they had been soldiers in the Sareniyan army together.

There were other clues to his past. He moved his hand to the scarf that draped thickly around his neck, which helped to hide the tattoo that clawed up his chest, ending beneath his collarbone. It was because of this mark that he knew he’d served in the Sareniyan army—all soldiers were branded with the marks of their units.

Then there was the Demon.

It was the first thing he’d noticed when he’d woken up. He knew the powers that set him apart from others—his ability to see in the dark, his incredible strength and endurance, his speed and accelerated healing—were because of it. He called it the Demon, though it didn’t have a voice. It was a part of him, woven into his soul. And yet he knew instinctively that if he let it out, it would crush him, his consciousness, the parts of him that were human. And so, he buried it deep inside him, only drawing upon its power out of necessity.

His brother was the key. In his memory, Junho had known what he was. Sunho needed to find his brother—only Junho could release him from this darkness.

A soft whistle of wind caught his attention, and he lifted his face. High above, in the vast darkness, blue light glimmered.

It came from the veins of mithril in the mines on the underside of the Floating World. For an ordinary Under Worlder, the darkness was absolute, impenetrable. But for Sunho, whose eyes hadn’t been ordinary for a long time, he could see it all. The gigantic scaffold Towers that reached up to the bottom of the mines. The small aircraft that dotted the sky, like pinpoints of light. Mithril was what buoyed and held up the Floating World, the bountiful country that floated above his own.

Unlike Yurhee and Tag, he had no desire to go there. He had no place in the sky. He was right where he belonged.

Even hours later, as sunlight filtered weakly over the Wall from afar, rendering the world in a hazy glow, Sunho remained standing in the abandoned courtyard, looking up at the mithril shining brightly in the distance like stars.