Page 32

CHAPTER 32

JAEIL

The Under World

The Core

THE LIGHT TORE down from the sky, spreading over the city like wildfire. The gates that separated the Core from Mid City and the Outer Ring had opened, and thousands of Under World denizens flooded inward. Guards had been deployed to the main capital area outside the assembly hall to control the masses, many of whom scrambled over one another to gulp in the light, as if it were air and they were drowning.

Jaeil observed the disorderly migration from beneath the shadowed eaves of one of the many taverns that lined the streets leading to the square.

A child had fallen onto the ground, wailing as the tides of people broke around her. She was about three or four, too young and witless to move out from danger. One of the red ribbons in her braids had come undone, her hair unraveling like a wilted flower.

“How pitiful,” Sana drawled, stepping out from the tavern’s doorway. He didn’t have to turn to know she’d snatched a wine bottle from one of the tables and held it dangling from her fingertips.

“The child’s guardians abandoned her,” Jaeil said absently, his gaze already moving elsewhere. “Probably to inebriate themselves in a tavern somewhere—a pastime you’re well acquainted with.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the child.”

Sana leaned against the pillar opposite Jaeil. A festivalgoer walked up the short set of stairs between them and through the doorway of the tavern, not sparing either of them a glance.

“Tonight was exciting.” Sana’s eyes glinted, her lips peeling back to show her white teeth. “So that’s what rejection looks like. How does it feel? I’ve never experienced it before.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed, taking a swig from her bottle. “I did think that mercenary was quite handsome from the start,” she said. “It was your mistake for sending someone prettier than yourself.”

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, massaging the knot that had formed there. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“I don’t think that was me.”

Jaeil felt, admittedly, irritated.

He hadn’t thought the swordsman would succeed. He’d hired him on instinct, recalling an encounter he’d had with the boy’s brother. He hadn’t lied that he’d known him. They had served together, if only for a brief time, in the Eighth Regiment, before Jaeil was called back to the Floating World by his father.

By the time he returned, Junho was gone, and he assumed that he’d either been transferred or killed. Jaeil had a superb memory and would have remembered Junho even if he wasn’t himself memorable. He looked like his younger brother, his hair black, his eyelashes obscenely long.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that made Jaeil remember the soldier. He’d talked nonstop, even after Jaeil had made it clear he despised chatter. Junho was undaunted, unlike the others in their regiment, who cowered under Jaeil’s judgmental regard. He talked of the future he envisioned for himself, how he wanted to own a farm in one of the Occupied Territories, far away from the shadow of the Floating World. His younger brother would join him, and any family his brother might acquire.

It was clear he adored this younger brother, whom he’d had to leave behind to join their regiment. The others hadn’t the heart to tell Junho the truth, and Jaeil hadn’t the patience: Neither brother would ever live to see that farm. While paying out their indenture, they’d only accrue more debt to the army that fed, housed, and clothed them.

Perhaps Junho knew this already but still chose to fan the flames of hope a little longer.

It was Junho’s love for his brother that Jaeil remembered. He hadn’t felt affected by it, so much as curious. Jaeil had no siblings, and his cousins were vastly disappointing. What was it between these brothers that made their connection so strong?

When Jaeil met Sunho at the teahouse, he’d immediately remembered the brother. Jaeil didn’t believe in chance encounters.

And so he’d hired the swordsman, sent him with the others in order to find Ren. It wasn’t a mistake. The other boy had found Ren, kept her alive. He would have delivered her to him, if his goal hadn’t changed along the way. Jaeil tapped his finger on the banister. It wasn’t a mistake, so then why did it feel like one?

“Captain.”

A group of soldiers stood in front of the tavern, blocking the stairs. They’d disembarked from four large carriages that were now obstructing the street, creating more of a buildup in the crowd. A few drunken patrons came through the doorway only to scuttle back inside at the sight of them. The child, he noticed, was gone.

“Have you lost your way?” Sana said, cheerful-like, addressing the soldier who’d spoken. “Shouldn’t you be in the square ensuring no fights break out? Keeping the peace and protecting the people, that sort of thing?”

The soldier shifted his feet, his eyes darting from Sana to Jaeil. “We have orders from the general. You’re to report to the Floating World immediately. The nobles claim they’ve found the missing princess. They mean to install her as their puppet ruler and brand the general a traitor. Your father has gone ahead to stop this act of rebellion.”

Jaeil sensed Sana moving closer to him, perhaps anticipating that he’d react negatively to this news.

So, Lady Maya had found her niece after all. But the noblewoman wouldn’t be able to protect Ren from his father. She had no army. Whoever her allies were would flee in the face of the general’s forces. It was as if they’d learned nothing in the past ten years.

His father would finish what he’d started, killing the last of the celestial maidens and installing himself as king.

“I’m to escort you to the base, where you’ll gather your soldiers,” the man continued. “An aircraft waits there to take you to the general’s camp, outside the Sky Door.”

Sana leaned forward over the railing. “An escort is a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

“It’s fine,” Jaeil said. The soldier moved back as he stepped down the stairs. The Sky Door. Jaeil once more looked up toward the great opening in the Floating World. His father, at the moment, was almost directly above him. How fitting.

“Jaeil, are you injured?”

Jaeil felt his body stiffen, recognizing the voice. He slowly lifted his gaze to find Commander Su among the soldiers, standing in the back. The commander frowned at the sight of the bandage on Jaeil’s neck. Sana had bound it, not gently, after stitching him up; the cut had been deep.

Jaeil cycled through the plausible reasons as to why the commander was in the Under World, and not the place Jaeil expected him to be, at his father’s side. Had he—after realizing the general’s intention to overthrow the nobles and take control of the Floating World—attempted to dissuade him, only to get rebuffed? Perhaps his father had sent the commander to escort Jaeil in order to get him out of the way. If there were others who disapproved of the general’s actions—many of the high-ranking officers hailed from noble families themselves, as did the commander—they would feel emboldened by the commander, who after the general, held the highest position in the Sareniyan army.

“If the captain is injured,” Sana said, her voice uncommonly serious as she locked eyes with the older soldier, “will the general let him go?”

After a long pause, Commander Su answered, “The general awaits his son on the Floating World.”

Jaeil stepped forward with Sana, and the soldiers moved to encircle them.

The crowd in the square had thickened during the few minutes they’d stood outside the tavern. The soldiers had to abandon the carriages to wade through it, spreading out in case Jaeil should decide to leave prematurely.

“Your father doesn’t trust you,” Sana said, stating the obvious. “Though you must feel flattered. A dozen soldiers as an escort—the general has paid you quite the compliment.”

It would probably only take a half dozen soldiers to subdue him at this point. He was tired, disgusted by the proximity of so many sweating bodies, and his neck hurt. They had to pass through the square to reach the parade grounds, and he regretted letting Sana provoke him into leaving the base. Like the rest of the city’s inhabitants, she’d wanted to celebrate the Festival of Light.

Sana shifted closer to him, so that only he could hear her when she asked, “What’s the plan?”

“There is none,” he said, grimacing as a slovenly woman spilled wine onto the ground, flecks of which splattered over his boots.

“You heard the commander,” Sana said, glancing behind his shoulder before lowering her voice. “You father is planning on capturing the princess. Will you not intervene in some grand manner to save her?”

“I tried to help her,” he retorted. “She refused to be helped.” Why were there so many people? How were there so many people? There should have been a checkpoint at the gates, barring more citizens from entering once the square had reached capacity.

“Ah, pettiness. This isn’t a side of you I often see. It’s charming, really.”

Craning his neck over the crowd, he looked toward the sidelines, where guards struggled to retain any semblance of order.

“She could die.”

He turned to look at Sana, who’d stopped walking, the crowd parting around her.

“So could we all,” he said.

“Yes, but some deaths matter more than others.”

Jaeil heard an odd keening in his ear. “Maybe it’s better if she died,” he said. “Then there wouldn’t be a choice.” Even as he said the words, he regretted them. He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not my concern anymore.” He was turning when Sana grabbed his wrist.

“It matters,” she said. Her grip was tight, her dark eyes glittering. Her voice, when she spoke, was thickened with some unnamed emotion. “Because her life matters to you , it could change the world.”

Jaeil had loved stories since he was young. In them, heroes prevailed, and villains were always punished. Villains like his father.

He thought of the meadow, the one he’d escape to, and the girl he’d met there. The night of the storm, he’d chased after Ren, searching for her in the forest. He hadn’t found her, but he had found the feather. He remembered holding it in the palms of his hands, the feeling of panic in his heart; he’d never held anything so fragile.

When did it become imperative for him to protect that feather? When did he start believing that if he could only hold on to it, then maybe the story he was living in would have a different ending than the one that was written for him, a long time ago?

A man lurched through the crowd, knocking against his shoulder. As he passed, a glass object fell out of his pocket. It hit the ground, shattering into pieces.

“Hey!” Sana let go of Jaeil’s wrist to shout at the man’s retreating figure. “Watch where you’re going!”

Jaeil stared down at the object. It was a syringe; blue, pearlescent liquid clung to the pieces of glass. He jerked his head upward, locking eyes with the man as he looked back.

Jaeil recognized him. He’d come to the assembly hall to listen to his father speak.

“Wait!” Jaeil shouted. He knew the stranger had heard him because the corner of his mouth turned upward, in a cruel mockery of a smile. Then he turned and fled.

Jaeil sprinted after him.

“Captain!” Commander Su shouted, his voice drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Above, the Sky Door inched wider by several leagues. Moonlight poured through, deluging the light-starved masses.

The man turned to look back once more, but not at him. Jaeil followed his gaze to see a contingent of soldiers pushing through the crowd. Jaeil recognized their silver-and-red uniforms as belonging to Lady Maya’s household. Imperial guards.

When Jaeil swung his gaze back, he saw the man now gripped another one of the syringes in his hand. Jaeil’s breath left his chest. What is he…?

Grabbing a woman standing nearby, the man jammed the needle into her arm, depressing the plunger.

The woman let out a piercing scream that was cut off as she fell, writhing upon the ground. Her veins began to pulse with an eerie blue light that spread throughout her body. Then, she began to change . Her jaw unhinged from her skull, her limbs elongated, and her fingers grew into claws.

A guttural roar ripped through the demon’s throat. The people in the crowd who had stood in shocked silence erupted into movement, screaming and crying out in terror. The demon pounced onto the back of a fleeing civilian, tearing into her.

Another roar came from the direction of the crowd’s center, where the man must have injected a second person. Jaeil swore. The head of the project was a scientist of some renown. He knew, with certainty, the identity of the stranger. He was the scientist whose brother had been murdered by Sareniyans. Whatever serum he’d injected into the woman had changed her, transformed her. He could create as many demons as he had vials.

“Sana!” Jaeil called.

“I’m here, Captain.” Sana had caught up to him, along with the commander, whose soldiers quickly surrounded them, pushing at the frenzied crowd. “What should we do about the civilians? They’ll all be slaughtered at this rate.”

Jaeil took note of what Sana had already deduced. The monster that had first transformed was viciously killing people but not consuming them. It slashed its fifth and sixth victims, before pouncing on a young man, tearing out his throat with its teeth.

“They’re not our priority.” His eyes scanned the crowd for the scientist. There were too many people, unable to flee due to the sheer numbers in the square for the festival. “The scientist, did you see where he went?” he shouted to be heard over the screams and sounds of slaughter. “Bring him to me. If you’re faced with a choice, kill him.”

“Captain.” Sana hesitated, and Jaeil glanced at her. “Let me stay by your side,” she said, speaking fast. “You’re still injured. And I don’t mean the wound on your neck. Your arm hasn’t yet fully healed, and—”

“It wasn’t a request, Lieutenant.”

Cursing, Sana turned, breaking through the soldiers and into the crowd.

Jaeil searched the square for the imperial guards that had been in pursuit of the scientist, but they’d either fled or been absorbed into the throng. Though the center was thinning out as more citizens escaped toward the nine avenues, likely trampling one another in their desperation to get away.

“Captain,” Commander Su said, his voice calm despite the chaos, “it seems your suspicions were correct. The scientist is much changed, but his eyes are the same.” Jaeil was impressed at the discipline of the commander’s soldiers, none of whom fled, unlike the guards.

“I need your best archer,” Jaeil said, and the commander nodded to one of the soldiers standing at attention.

“Can you hit it?” he asked the older man who approached, carrying a bow and quiver of arrows.

The soldier considered his question. “I don’t know, sir. It’s moving too fast.”

His tone was even, but his trembling hands betrayed him.

“I’ll take that,” Jaeil said, not unkindly, and the soldier handed Jaeil the bow with relief.

The demon was fast. It sprang from victim to victim, leaping sideways and vaulting over carts that had turned over on their sides.

Nocking an arrow, Jaeil followed the monster’s movements. It would take a half second for the arrow to hit the target; he couldn’t aim at the monster, or he’d miss.

It launched into the air, springing toward a group of cowering civilians. Jaeil calculated the demon’s trajectory, releasing the arrow ahead of it. He didn’t wait to see if the arrow found its mark, flinging the bow aside and unsheathing his sword.

He heard the thunk of the arrow; at the same time, the demon screamed. It hit the ground, skidding, the arrow lodged in its thigh. Jaeil was upon it within seconds. He buried his sword through its chest, wincing as a sharp pain splintered up his arm. He let go of the sword, stumbling back.

“Jaeil,” Commander Su shouted, “watch out!”

He only had time to lift his arms before he was felled by a great weight.

Damn it. He’d forgotten the second demon. He held it back, twisting his head to the side as the monster snapped its teeth inches from his face, its breath hot and rancid.

“Don’t shoot!” he heard the commander shout. “You might hit the captain!”

Shoot , he wanted to scream—he’d rather die by a hail of arrows than in the jaws of a creature—but the monster was on his chest; he couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. His left arm felt like it was on fire, then it rebroke with a snap .

The demon bore down on him, blood and saliva dropping onto his cheek. Then it reared back with a scream, a dagger embedded in its shoulder.

Sana.

The demon twisted around, raking its claws across her face. She fell back with a lurch.

With his right arm, Jaeil reached around the monster, prying Sana’s dagger from its back. With the last of his strength, he shoved it into the monster’s heart.

It collapsed on top of him, pinning him to the earth. He didn’t have to wait long before the commander’s soldiers lifted the demon’s corpse. He waved away their offer of help, holding his arm as he crouched by Sana’s prone body. He felt the tension leave his shoulders as he saw her chest moving up and down. She was alive.

“Take her to the base,” he ordered the soldiers who surrounded him, his gaze shifting to the corpses of the demons. They had changed back to their original forms. The woman lay face up on the ground, eyes unseeing. Several feet from her was a man with short, cropped hair.

The soldiers hadn’t moved to obey his directive. He looked over to find them staring at him.

“What is it?”

“Sir, you’re—you’re covered. In blood.”

They were right. He was soaked in it. His clothing clung to his skin as if he’d been dipped in ink.

Blue ink. The color of mithril, the color of stars.

“You heard the captain,” Commander Su barked. “Get moving.”

The soldiers scurried away, bearing Sana back to the base.

Jaeil noticed how quiet the square had become. Besides the bodies of the fallen, he and the commander were alone. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine he was back in the meadow at night, when it was too dark to read. Then, all he could do was listen, and breathe.

“I’ll inform the general of what I witnessed here. This time, I’ll make certain he listens. Sareniya faces a far greater threat than her own people.”

Jaeil bowed to the commander as he moved to leave.

The commander paused. “I will await you at the base,” he said.Then he added, “Have the physician look at your arm upon your arrival.”

Commander Su didn’t have to reiterate his orders; Jaeil would still be expected to join his father on the Floating World, where it all began. And where it would end, one way or another.

After the commander took his leave, Jaeil raised his gaze skyward. The Sky Door was completely open, and through it, he could see the stars.

There was still so much he needed to discover, about the scientist and the far-reaching scope of his plans. But when he looked up at the sky, he thought only of the meadow—and the girl he’d met there—as he stood alone in the square, drenched in blood and starlight.