Page 30

Chapter Thirty

Seokga

S eokga bursts onto the tenth deck, having frantically followed the red thread through the bucking ship—and he has no idea what the fuck that’s about, but it can’t be anything good—to its highest point, where Kisa stands too close to the rail, hands gripping the cold iron as she shouts something to Somi and Hajun, who stand behind her. They’re all in various states of undress, and Seokga is no different, his chest bare like Hajun’s. He couldn’t find his sweater quickly enough.

“KISA!” Seokga roars as he realizes the ship is moving again, speeding through the waters with a dangerous sloppiness. “GET BACK FROM THERE!” Leaning heavily on his cane, his right leg aching from his sprint from Deck 7 to Deck 10, Seokga limps as quickly as he can to Kisa and practically hauls her away from the drop. The river sprays their faces as the ship veers a sharp right, and Seokga hits the deck hard, cushioning Kisa’s fall with his own. Her bare legs tangle with his, and her elbow presses into his stomach as the deck rises up to meet them. He gasps in a breath as Kisa scrambles up to stare down at him, her curls whipping in the violent winds.

“It’s Dr. Jang,” she shouts over the wind. “I read her journal! All of this has been her, all of it! From the very beginning, years before now!” Her small hands grab his to pull him up. “She’s not a shaman, Seokga—she’s a jangsan beom!”

As if on cue, an enraged roar resounds from somewhere beneath them. The Red Thread of Fate is glowing black and pink and blue and purple all at once, their tumultuous emotions mixing in the chaos. Seokga wishes he could protest, but it’s true—all true. Hwanung’s call, Kisa’s suspicions…This case was never closed. “ Fuck! ” Seokga snarls.

Another roar. This one closer.

Overhead, thunder booms somewhere in the deathly sky.

“ She killed me! ” Kisa screams, stumbling back toward Somi and grabbing the gumiho’s hand. There’s so much more than anger in her scream—there’s fear and hatred, too. It cleaves Seokga’s heart in two before it is mended by fury. Hot anger, as molten as liquid gold, fills in the cracks with a deadly rage. That rage shoots down the thread, burning black, an inky stain on fate.

“She shoved me from the roof, Seokga— she was the one who did it! Her lotion—Dermatrick’s—I smelled it a moment before I fell! She found me before you did, knowing I was yours, knowing I’d be sent to the ship! And she killed Somi, too, knowing your history with her and intending to use her as a fall person, but when Jang went too far and Somi lost her claws in the battle, she had to shift methods and chose Soo-min instead!”

Seokga leans heavily on his cane, sulfuric rain lashing down on the ship. He can barely hear Kisa over the screams of the guests below and the churning storm, but he can hear enough. Oh yes, he can hear enough. His fingers have begun to twitch in the very same way they did all those years ago before he tortured Eodum to death. Staggering, he makes his way over to Hajun, where Hwanin is screaming in fright.

Kisa is drenched by now, rain soaking her hair and his sweater as she continues to shout, voice cracking and breaking over the thunder. “She killed Hwanin! He was never supposed to come with the two of you on the cruise—she had to take matters into her own hands! She followed him to the I-95 after the party and he panicked—the bright light was his first reaction and his second was to teleport to you ! But he never got that far, only to the stairwell where we found him. In a fit of rage, Jang ripped out his heart during the teleportation, in the corners between space, which is why we never found any sign of a struggle!”

Hwanin cries and reaches for him, burying his small face in his brother’s chest as Seokga grabs him from Hajun’s stricken grip.

“She mimicked Soo-min’s voice when Somi was hiding in the closet, she mimicked her and Hwanung’s voices on the intercom after luring Hwanung onto the ship when he called her to ask about his father! And you, Seokga—” Kisa resembles a goddess of wrath as she stands on the deck, fists clenched at her sides, wind and rain failing to move her as if she is a marble pillar. “She’s been manipulating you for years ! Posing as your therapist, prescribing you medication that blocks your ability to read minds! Your meds aren’t anti-depressants, Seokga, they’re power suppressants, made from blacklisted ingredients!”

Any help you’ve received in your life has been double-bladed.

A quietness fills Seokga’s ears. A deadly calm before a storm.

“Stop,” he whispers. He’s heard enough from Hwanung, from her, to lay any doubts to rest. She can stop now. But Kisa isn’t done, the words flooding from her like a horrible tsunami, washing over him as he drowns.

“And all this talk about your father!” Kisa staggers back to the rail, where she points a trembling finger to the river beyond. The ship, to Seokga’s growing horror, has veered past its original course, toward the riotous waters where red waves crash over jagged rocks and a narrow pass between two towering black mountains is vaguely visible through a dark mist. Seokga’s blood turns to ice in his veins. He knows that gap. Bound God’s Pass. Beneath those waters in the gap, his father lies, imprisoned with skeletal shackles in an underwater cave. “She killed the captain to take control of the ship! She wants you to free the Mad God—”

“Kisa,” Seokga breathes in terror, eyes latching on the webbed hand gripping the rail behind her. “Kisa—BEHIND YOU!”

She lurches away just in time to avoid the cackling mermaid, who pulls herself up over the rail and falls onto the ship with a pike’s teeth smile. Ineo on Iseung never looked so monstrous, but they never swam in hell waters, either.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, ” Hajun is screaming, half-hiding behind Somi, who’s shouting some panicked expletives as more and more ineo crawl onto the deck, and as another roar shakes the ship…

…and a white tiger bursts onto the deck with a ravenous snarl.

No, not a tiger.

The jangsan beom. It’s a hulking monster of bulging muscles underneath long, coarse black-and-white fur, and a dripping muzzle pulls back to reveal yellow, jagged teeth. The creature’s eyes are a pale, vicious gold stained red—from Hwanin’s light, Seokga realizes as he snaps his cane into a sword with his free hand. Dr. Jang had begun to wear sunglasses after that fateful night, sometimes even bumping into furniture, after Hwanin had panicked on the I-95 and released his divine, almost blinding, light. A low growl erupts from the jangsan beom’s throat as the hordes of ineo, crawling forth on their hands, shepherd Seokga and his companions closer together.

Somi chokes, her hand flying to Kisa’s. “ You! ” the gumiho cries, and Seokga has never heard Somi’s voice ripe with so much pain and terror.

He remembers her reaction to his list of four-clawed creatures in the trashed security room. That leaves a samjokgu, a bulgae, or a jangsan beom, he’d mused, and chalked up Somi’s subsequent show of fear to the fox-eating dog. But it was never the samjokgu she was afraid of.

Seokga takes a shallow breath as he recedes deep, deep into himself—far enough that when the tiger shifts into Dr. Jang Heejin, he feels nothing. Cold. He has made himself cold, just as he did before his coup, during the days after his fall.

Seokga can see that her eyes, now without sunglasses, are stained with the same red as the tiger’s. But her vision seems to be perfectly fine as the old woman takes in the scene, mouth tightening.

“I should have realized what a liability you’d be,” Jang says, narrowing her eyes at Kisa, whose fear skitters down the red thread. “Was it the lotion I dropped? Or the journal you stole?” Her voice is so different from the one he has come to know. This nasally, pinched voice must be her true one. No longer does it remind him of Mago.

“ Both, ” spits Kisa venomously.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” is the sweet reply. “Everything that needed to happen already has.” Jang turns her eyes on Seokga. The woman has the audacity to fucking smile at him. “This wasn’t the way I wanted you to find out, dear. It must be an awful shock.” Her voice has changed again, becoming sweeter, more like his mother’s.

Seokga has suffered so many betrayals in his lifetime.

From his father to Hani, his story is a fractured mess of broken promises and lonely sufferings. This should not hurt as much as it does.

But oh, how it aches.

The hours spent in Jang’s office, confiding in her thoughts—emotions—he had never had the courage to share with anybody else. The time he broke down in front of her as he spoke of Hani’s death. The way Dr. Jang had pushed the box of tissues toward him. Session after session, growing to trust the voice that at times reminded him so strongly of his mother, Mago…All of it fake. Seokga feels the cold rain on his face and the unsteady ship beneath his feet, Hwanin sniffling in his arms, but he is not truly here. He is somewhere far away, alone in the ether.

“In about fifteen minutes,” Jang says when he fails to respond, “the ship will reach Bound God’s Pass. I’d like you to come with me, Seokga. Your father has wanted to see you for a long time. He misses you and what could have been.”

An ineo cackles and snaps her teeth toward Kisa’s ankles. She cries out, and that horrible sound is the only reason Seokga is able to pull himself up from the distant reverie he sank into.

“Think about what we’ve discussed in our sessions, Seokga,” Jang says kindly, lacing her fingers together. “All the issues that stem from your relationship with your father can be healed. He wants to start again, like you have…And you, Seokga, can give him that. I know he would be eternally indebted to you.”

“Don’t listen to her, Seokga!” Kisa cries. The mermaids hiss, edging closer, and Kisa falls silent.

Seokga pauses, and slowly tilts his head as he looks at Jang. Sensing she’s got his attention, Jang presses forth. “Your brother, Hwanin, could never understand how much a person can change. Especially your father. It’s why I had to kill him, and I’m truly sorry about that. But you, you can understand. You changed during your punishment, just as Mireuk has.”

“How do you know my father?” Seokga asks softly, shifting his brother in his arms.

“By visiting his prison, of course.” Dr. Jang smiles beatifically. “There are those of us who are still loyal to him. He fashioned our rightful home, Gamangnara. The almighty creator is the only one who can reopen it after what you did. On the anniversary of the Dark World’s fall, we visit your father underneath this river and pay our respects. My first visit to him was some, oh, some fifty years ago. I was young then, and homesick for a place I’d never known. The home of my ancestors, lost to me. Locking a realm has its consequences, you know.” There’s a flicker of rage across her face but it quickly vanishes. Seokga pretends he hasn’t seen it. “But Eodum went about it all wrong. Violence isn’t the answer.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Somi snaps, kicking her bare foot at a grinning mermaid. “You’re just Eodum 2.0 and—”

“You’re a murderer,” Hajun bursts out. “You’re sick—” He cuts off as a mermaid wraps sharp-nailed fingers around his ankle. Somi stomps on her head and the ineo snarls, but backs away, as if waiting for Jang’s signal.

“What are you even getting out of this?” Somi demands of the mermaids. One of them, missing an eye, smiles.

“Mireuk has made us many promises.” Her voice is as wet as the slippery gills on her neck. “The humans killed us, and so they will suffer when the Mad God returns to his throne…”

Dozens of tails thump in agreement, scales and fins pounding down with gusto.

Jang holds her hand up for silence. “This plan has been many years in the making, Seokga. I apologize for how much manipulation it required. I didn’t take any joy in killing your soulmate, but—knowing her karmic punishment from her past life would be to serve on this ship—it was the only way I could ensure you didn’t leave the cruise mid-voyage should you have figured things out sooner and been less…amenable. Everything had to go perfectly.”

“How did you even know who I was?” Kisa demands, and Seokga cannot tell the raindrops apart from the tears coursing down her face. “Where to find me?”

Jang sighs and glances at Seokga. Her expression is almost… pitying. Something plummets in Seokga’s stomach. Something breaks within him, irreversible in its damage. “Seokga called me,” she says.

Kisa lurches back as if she’s been struck, her shock and pain flaring down the bond, hurtling like bullets into his chest. Seokga struggles to remain standing, even as every part of him longs to sink to his knees and atone. The final betrayal slices him down to the core in one of the most exquisite, terrible agonies the immortal god has ever known. It had been Jang that he’d dialed with shaking hands as he raced through New Sinsi, following the red thread to Kisa—who’d still been alive, at that point, still living and breathing in the world above. Seoul, he’d gasped out to the therapist. I think—it’s leading me to Seoul.

“When I first started treating him, Seokga told me that Hani’s reincarnation would have distinctly unique eyes. That always came up, almost every single session, for thirty-three years. Wine-brown eyes, this. Wine-brown eyes, that. He’d go on and on about them, sometimes for forty-five minutes at a time, describing the color down to each individual hue. So when he called me on the day that the Red Thread of Fate appeared…”

“Kisa,” Seokga rasps. “Kisa—”

She shakes her head, a tear spilling down her cheek as she holds his gaze.

—it’s not—your fault—didn’t—know—how could—you—know?—

“Earlier that year,” Jang continues, but he barely hears her over the roaring in his head, “I’d visited the Magical Maternity Unit at Seoul’s Shamanic Hospital. My gumiho daughter-in-law was in labor, bless her, and needed an emergency C-section at the last minute. One of the doctors there, well, the eyes were a match, but I wasn’t sure. It was too…convenient. But when the red thread appeared, and Seokga confirmed it was leading him to Seoul, I didn’t see the point in wasting any more time. Reaching you before he did wasn’t much of a challenge as I had the precise directions rather than a fickle thread. From there, it was easy. All I had to do was kill you, confirm you had been stationed on the Flatliner, and manage to get Seokga on the boat, as well. The latter part took a bit of time—seven years, actually—since I had to wait for Seokga to truly run himself ragged. Every time I mentioned taking a break, he fled before I could even finish the sentence, scurrying off to Poland or Jamaica on yet another expedition. Finally—after Antarctica —Seokga was finally tired enough to come along without finding a way to squirm out of it…Although he did complain. A lot.”

Everything Seokga touches falls apart. Everything.

“I know how much that must hurt to hear.” Jang turns back to Seokga with a sympathetic half-smile. “I know, Seokga, that you’re blaming yourself, but you don’t need to. Mireuk has the power to create a new story for the both of you. Free him, and he’ll reward you. Even as heavenly emperor, there are things you cannot do for Kisa. You simply aren’t strong enough. But your father is the most powerful god there is. He might even be able to bring her back to life. Erase it all.”

Seokga inhales shakily, still fighting not to let his knees buckle beneath him. Even on the throne, with all the heavenly powers, he would not be able to bring Kisa back. No god can. He should turn away, but he still finds himself asking in a hoarse whisper: “My father. Has he…spoken about me?”

“Oh, yes,” says Jang, and Seokga slowly moves toward her, hanging on to her every word. His guilt and pain war with his insatiable curiosity. “He wants badly to start over. He wants to be a father. He wants his son.” Jang smiles as she stretches her hand out to Seokga, the other gesturing to Bound God’s Pass, looming in the distance. “I promise you, everything you have ever wanted is just beneath the surface. Will you join me? For yourself? For Kisa?”

He wants to be a father. It’s everything Seokga’s ever wanted to hear. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut. Such pretty promises, wrapped up neatly in a bow. The temptation is a squirming, wriggling thing inside of him. To be the worthy son this time. It all fits so neatly into his fantasies, his dashing rescue and the gratitude—the love—he might receive in return. Slowly, Seokga passes Hwanin to Kisa, who takes the child with an alarmed expression.

“Seokga…”

When she leaves him, he’ll be utterly alone. As it was before, so it will be after.

Unless.

Unless, unless, unless.

His eyes fly open.

If there is one thing that Seokga has learned from his years of trickery, it is that there is always an unless. Perhaps even multiple. Another offer to make, another path to take. So he steps forward as the ship pitches once more, thunder roaring overhead as demons swoop through brilliant strokes of lightning—and takes Jang Heejin’s hand.

It’s warm and slightly calloused, wrinkled with age yet still somehow smooth, as if subjected to copious amounts of creams and powder. Seokga squeezes it gently, staring into Jang’s crow’s-feet-lined eyes rimmed with red. “There’s just one more thing I want,” he murmurs.

“Anything,” she replies, practically beaming. “Oh, Seokga, you don’t know how happy this makes me.”

“I want you to know”—Seokga bows his head closer to hers—“that you made a mistake. All of this, it just might have worked—if you hadn’t killed Kisa.”

Jang’s eyes widen. She tries to jerk away, but Seokga holds tight.

“And what’s more…” Seokga draws his sword up with his other hand—and plunges it through the tiger-shifter’s heart. “You can never out-trick a trickster,” he spits.

Triumphant, he waits for Jang to crumple to the ground.

She does not.

Jang sighs, looking down at the sword in her chest. “I wish you hadn’t done that. It makes things so much more complicated.”

What in the fucking seven hells? Seokga gapes at her, withdraws his sword. And plunges it back into her. Nothing. Jang Heejin looks bored. Around him, the ineo are laughing, the sound like the sea hissing and bubbling in the heat. Kisa’s alarm surges down the red thread.

—blue—it’s blue—all along the blade—blue blood—she’s—

Slowly, Seokga looks down at the long blade of his sword. Sure enough, blue blood drips from it, slow and thick.

“I killed myself the first day here,” Jang informs him as he feels his own red blood drain from his face in shock. “Hung myself with the room’s curtains and re-formed as a gwisin. I kept my heart but threw my body overboard.” With a horrible drop of his stomach, Seokga remembers the dragging sound outside of his room the first night. The woman who insisted she heard a “splash.” “Except the heart. For me to remain on the ship, that particular organ needs to, as well. It’s hidden somewhere safe. Please remove the sword, Seokga. It’s a bit uncomfortable.”

“You should at least be in pain,” Kisa whispers, sounding both terrified and fascinated. “You should be in debilitating pain—I don’t understand how—I have patients who come in for scabbed knees…”

“I’ve done what they can’t, through years of preparation for this very moment,” Jang says smugly. “Separated my consciousness from the memory of having a body and what should happen when I’m stabbed. I’ve realized that death is death, and once I’m dead, flesh wounds won’t do anything. It’s an enlightened state of being. Mireuk will allow my ghost to wander the planes of Gamangnara forevermore.”

“How did you separate—that’s impossible —I’ve tried, I can’t even…” Kisa seems to realize she’s coming dangerously close to displaying admiration and abruptly shuts her mouth.

Jang smirks. “Now where were we?” she asks Seokga as Bound God’s Pass approaches in the distance. “Oh, yes. I was about to revert to using force. ”