Page 31

Chapter Thirty-One

K i s a

T he tiger growls as it launches into the air, claws outstretched for the trickster god, who’s currently recovering from a nasty-looking crash into a pile of fallen pool chairs. It is, reflects Kisa as she dances out of the ineo’s clawed reaches, awfully inconvenient to no longer have Hani’s powers. She learned how to fight at NSUMD, of course—studying the art just as much as she studied anatomy, or history—but she’s never been in a real fight and, most of all, has never been expected to battle while carrying a child …

Her feet are bare as they hop over thrashing tails and swiping claws. “Shh,” Kisa urges Hwanin as he wails in her ear. “Everything is all right, everything is perfectly all right—” She looks around desperately for Hajun, who seems to have constructed a mountain out of plastic lounge chairs and is balancing precariously at the top, swinging a rolled-up towel at the ascending mermaids. Well, she thinks.

Perhaps everything is not all right.

“My fox bead doesn’t work down here!” Somi shrieks, running around in circles, much like Kisa. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Fox form!” Kisa yelps.

“Without claws ? Fox teeth aren’t very large—”

There’s a flash of green on the opposite end of the deck, and Kisa sees that Seokga has shifted into a giant panther. The cat’s emerald eyes flash as he launches toward Jang, and Kisa can’t hold back five quick sneezes. Cats.

“KISA, I’M SORRY!” Hajun wails, jumping from his mountain. “I CAN’T DO THIS!”

“TAKE THE BABY!” Kisa screams, shaking a strong hand off her ankles. It’s like a game of American football as Somi races by, grabs Hwanin, and presses the child into Hajun’s arms as he sprints for the door. “HAJUN! LOOK FOR JANG’S HEART!”

“AND THROW IT INTO THE RIVER!” howls Somi, stooping down to punch a bloodthirsty ineo in the face. The mermaid howls in surprised agony.

“Go with him!” Kisa cries as she narrowly dodges another mermaid.

“I’m not leaving you!”

The ship bounces as the currents become more treacherous. Kisa nearly falls on her face but quickly saves herself. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one!” she manages to gasp out as Somi hurries to her, and the two women press their backs together. The ship tilts again, Seokga’s abandoned sword sliding toward them. Kisa snatches it up, the heavy hilt somehow feeling as if it belongs in her palm. In any other circumstance, she’d pause to admire the exact sheen of the moon-harvested silver and perhaps take a few mental notes on its weight and density, but there’s quite positively no time for that.

“Where would her heart even be ?” Somi shouts as red water sloshes over the sides of the boat—reaching even its highest point. Bound God’s Pass stands tall and menacing in the eddy of red, washing tides. Kisa sucks in a panicked breath as, down the deck, Seokga struggles beneath Jang’s claws—the tiger atop the panther. A flash of green, and now the panther is a small mouse, escaping from beneath the terrifying creature before shifting into a snarling, massive grizzly bear whose weight causes the deck to groan.

“Kisa? Where would her heart be?”

“I-I don’t know !” Kisa yells as she swipes Seokga’s sword through the air. The mermaids hiss as the sword cuts flesh. It seems as though they haven’t yet mastered the art of realizing they don’t need to feel pain. The deck is slippery with river water, and as it tilts precariously, Kisa and Somi hold tight to each other. Seokga and Jang tumble toward them, a rolling mass of claws and fur.

It’s only narrowly that Somi and Kisa manage to lurch out of the way, followed by the bloodthirsty ineo. Jang and Seokga crash into the deck’s Hawaiian-style bar, wood splintering beneath them followed by broken bottles and the distinct smell of alcohol. Somi darts toward the mess and snatches up a long piece of glass, its sharp edge glinting as she wields it against the mermaids. It cuts into her skin, too, but the gumiho doesn’t seem to care as she launches herself toward a grinning cluster of mermaids.

The injured ineo throw themselves from the deck, heading for the waters below with angry screeches. Kisa’s made decent progress against them, but she can feel herself slowing as she remembers the footwork she learned in her academies, the exact way to sweep a blade.

Where would Jang hide her heart? Kisa pants through her teeth as she scours through all the possibilities. An organ like a heart can’t risk being found by a guest. Jang’s room would be an obvious answer, but some instinct tells Kisa that the jangsan beom would never have admitted to hiding the heart “somewhere safe” unless she was certain it wouldn’t be found. Her bedroom is too obvious.

Mentally, Kisa curses the CEO for making this ship so bloody big. Where is he anyway? Surely he would notice the chaos unfolding on his pride and joy?

The heart, the heart. The heart… Oh, no.

The ship lurches to a halt right underneath the looming archway of Bound God’s Pass. Kisa’s heart rises into her throat as she stares up at the dark, wet stone. Beneath them, within the rushing red waters, is Mireuk’s prison.

She whirls back to the ineo, but they’re grinning at her as they slip through the gaps in Deck 10’s railing, disappearing into the waters below with small splashes. Seokga’s bear is roaring as he swipes at the tiger with massive claws, only for her to ignore the way pain should erupt down her furred chest.

How do you win against an opponent who can’t die and can’t feel pain?

You restrain them, thinks Kisa desperately. But there are no ropes that could ever possibly hold down the monstrous jangsan beom…

“SEOKGA!” she screams in terror as the tiger closes its maws around the bear’s middle. Not enough to kill—Jang needs Seokga for whatever comes next—but enough for Seokga to roar hoarsely in pain. The sound of it cuts Kisa to the bone. She lunges toward the two beasts, but Somi’s hands wrap around her middle, dragging her back.

“You’ll get hurt!” Somi cries in her ear as Kisa fights to escape.

“I’m DEAD !” Kisa screams with so much fury that Somi falters, grip slackening enough for Kisa to escape. Tears burn in her eyes as the green-eyed bear falls, shifting into Seokga, whose red blood leaks from the deep gouges in his bare waist. They’ve not yet begun to heal.

No. No.

She races forward, only for the tiger to whirl and send her flying backward with a punch of its paws. Kisa sobs in panic, climbing to her feet as the tiger reverts back into Jang, who smiles nastily at her in triumph as she gathers the limp god up in her arms and climbs the rail. Her gray hair streams behind her in the wind. Somewhere above, a demon shrieks in pleasure.

The red thread gives Kisa a harsh yank, adding to her momentum as she rushes forward, intent on stopping Jang before she can bring Seokga to the waters below. The bond between Seokga and her has never felt so strong…Kisa can swear that it becomes heavier around her finger, somehow, as she rushes forth…

Only for Jang to jump over the rail and disappear into the water below, dragging Kisa’s god with her.

She skids to a halt. Jump! her mind screams at her, but she can’t make herself do it, can’t make herself fall…

Not again. She can’t—she cannot fall again. Kisa trembles like a baby bird, staring helplessly into the river below, seeing not the churning water but the bright lights of Seoul, the midnight trains winding far below on their dark tracks, the neon signs advertising new albums and soda and all the trivial little things she would give anything to experience again blinking cheerily up at her.

“Do it,” she whispers to herself, furiously scrubbing away a tear. “Just do it. ”

But she can’t.

And she doesn’t.

Until the gumiho appears next to her, breathless and panting. She grabs Kisa’s hand, and she’s no longer alone on the skyscraper’s roof. She’s with Somi. She’s with her friend. “We go together,” Somi says softly.

“T-Together,” Kisa agrees hoarsely. Palms sweating, Kisa follows her up to stand on the rail, legs trembling. She feels sick but Somi’s grip is warm and comforting, strong in a way Kisa must be, as well.

“One, two—”

“Three!” Do it. Just do it.

With a deep breath, the two women jump from the highest deck and plummet hundreds of feet into the waters below—holding hands the entire time.

The water is icy cold, enveloping Kisa in a frigid blanket as she sinks down, bubbles streaming up around her. She opens her eyes, lungs burning, but she can’t make anything out save for the blurry cloud of bubbles and the red thread, swirling around her in dizzying loops. To her depthless relief, Somi’s hand is still in hers, although through the bubbles she cannot see her.

A terrible sensation overcomes Kisa, and Kisa has no idea which way is up, or which way is down. She flails, panicking, lungs burning—and her free fist closes on instinct around the thread…

To find it solid in a way it was not before. Thicker, too. Like a rope…

What…How…

Surprise has Kisa momentarily forgetting she can’t breathe. The thread curls itself into an arrow, pointing downward, followed by what looks—vaguely—like a thumbs-up sign. Kisa nods, and—with slowly steadying hands—begins to follow the red thread toward Seokga, pulling herself and Somi down its length.

I do not need to breathe, Kisa tells herself firmly as her chest aches with pain. I am dead. I do not need to breathe.

Her lungs seem to think the opposite. She has, she guesses, about one minute before she blacks out and is utterly useless to anybody. The red thread flexes underneath her, and as Kisa becomes weaker, wraps itself around her waist.

There’s a split second before Kisa is being dragged down and pulling Somi with her. The thread hauls her this way and that, descending all the while. Kisa closes her eyes—and only reopens them when the thread drags her across something rough and hard…And the pressure of the water disappears. Kisa’s eyes fly open.

They’re in a cave—a cave that is somehow empty of the frigid river water. She sucks in a deep breath, and next to her, a drenched Somi does the same. Finally able to breathe, Kisa climbs to her feet and the red thread unravels itself from around her.

The cave is dark, stalactites hanging from a damp, slick ceiling. Kisa’s bare feet, once the adrenaline wears off, will feel every sharp stone that digs into her flesh. Clusters of stalagmites rise threateningly from the cave’s ground, leading farther and farther into inky depths. Behind her, the cave’s entrance gapes like a hungry mouth. Scarlet water pushes up against it but seems to be blocked by magic of some kind.

Kisa’s hand closes around the red thread as it places itself in her palm. Yes, she thinks, it’s definitely solid. What brought on the change?

She gapes as the thread rises into the air and arranges itself into cursive letters. DESPERATE TIMES, DESPERATE MEASURES. LET’S GO, KISA.

When she fails to move, it arranges itself into a sort of angry emoticon. HURRY UP!

“I knew you were sentient!” Kisa hisses, wishing she had her notepad to record this absurd development. “I knew it!” The implications of this are nothing short of astounding …

GLOAT LATER. HURRY NOW.

“I would hope so,” snaps Somi, looking offended. “I have a brain.”

“Erm…” Despite its new solidity, Somi still cannot see the Red Thread of Fate binding Seokga and Kisa. “Not you,” she whispers, but the thread is already tugging her farther into the cave. “This way. Come on.”

The cave transforms more and more the deeper they venture into it. The sharp, flat surface riddled with grime beneath them gives way to stairs formed from slippery, jutting rock leading into an inky abyss below. Kisa keeps one hand on the slimy cave wall and one hand on the thread as she and Somi quietly pick their way downward. The air is heavy here, thick and sulfurous, damp when it hits their lungs. There is also the faint smell of unwashed body, which only grows stronger as the makeshift stairways end at the bottom of a cavern with three dark tunnels.

“Which one?” Somi whispers.

The thread stretches down the second. Kisa gestures toward it, but hesitates. There must be traps. No prison ever comes without them. Seokga’s sword is at the top of the SRC Flatliner, and Somi’s claws are broken and useless. All they have with them are their wits.

The two women edge cautiously into the second tunnel. Kisa half-expects some sort of demon to jump out at them, but instead, they’re met by—the CEO? Her heart lurches in her chest as Yeomra emerges from the darkness, eyeshadow glittering even in the depthless shadow.

If he’s with Jang…

But Yeomra shakes his head, ever so slightly, raising one pale finger to his lips.

“Good of you to finally show up,” Somi snaps.

The CEO ignores the irate gumiho, stepping closer to Kisa. “Seokga is unconscious,” he whispers. “When his wounds heal, he’ll be forced to untie his father.”

“Can’t you do something about Jang?” Kisa demands, but it sounds more like a plea. “Send her into one of the hells?” Even if Hajun finds Jang’s heart and throws it overboard, it’s no use now. Jang is off the ship.

“I can,” whispers Yeomra, “and I will. But that’s not the problem. Seokga is.”

“No,” she vehemently insists. “He’s not a willing participant in any of this—”

Yeomra’s black eyes flash. “You don’t understand the influence Mireuk has over Seokga. It’s the reason Jang singled Seokga out of all the other gods. Even though he’ll fight against it, Seokga will still do anything for his father if it means being loved by him. Don’t you know what we call him in Okhwang?” He leans forward, as if to deliver the killing blow. “We call him the Lonely God.”

“I know that.” She glares, even as pain fractures her chest. The Lonely God. “I also know that you’re underestimating him. He fought Jang on the ship, and he was the one who imprisoned Mireuk in the first place.”

Yeomra rolls his eyes, and Kisa dearly wants to punch him. “He was able to fight off Jang because Mireuk wasn’t present. He relied on the strength of Hwanin to get through imprisoning him. The Mad God is manipulative, and once Seokga is in front of him, all the fight will drain the fuck out of him. If Seokga tries to free his father, it’s a Divine Crime against the pantheon and all of humanity. Worse even than his coup. We need to extract him before he wakes up. I’ll take Jang. The two of you take Seokga. We clear?”

Kisa clenches her jaw. “Fine,” she snaps.

“Crystal,” says Somi.

“Let’s go.”

The tunnel is long, riddled with murky puddles and stale, stagnant air. Kisa exchanges fearful glances with Somi as they follow Yeomra through its length. When it finally ends, Kisa presses a hand to her mouth. Another cavern looms beyond, a ravenous maw with a tongue of rock—on which a man is bound with chains that are, nauseatingly, the exact color of human bones. It’s the shackles that catch her eye first, but when she realizes who they bind to the protruding rock, Kisa feels a terror that is unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Her bladder threatens to loosen as she stares at the Mad God, clinging close to the shadows, sticky sweat pooling on every inch of her trembling skin.

The Mad God. Mireuk. Creator of life and, later, the sufferings that come with it. Rape. Murder. The gruesome and the horrifying. He lies spread-eagle on the rock, his face almost as skeletal as his chains, so gaunt and haunted. His matted black hair is long, tumbling from the rock and spreading on the ground below. There is a stench of waste, of a long-drawn death, that permeates the air now, mingled with the horrid reek of a body that has gone unwashed for centuries upon centuries upon centuries. Her throat works, and then she’s pivoting to quietly vomit all over Yeomra’s heavy black boots before she can stop herself. The CEO fixes her with a look of great disgust and betrayal.

Beneath the cavern’s tongue, Seokga lies, a crumpled heap. Above him stands Jang, a maniacal gleam in her eyes as she stares up at Mireuk. “ Your Majesty! ” she cries, and although she’s still clad in her ridiculous Hawaiian set, she somehow manages to be as terrifying as she was in her tiger form. “Your son! I have brought him here, to you. Your freedom is imminent!”

“Ah…” Mireuk’s voice is not the thunderous, powerful thing Kisa expected. It’s little more than a reedy rasp, hoarse from disuse. He does not sound like an all-powerful deity, nor does he sound like the mortal realm’s most dangerous villain. Mireuk sounds weak. “Jang Heejin. You’ve done so well, my little tiger.”

Jang beams. “Anything for you, My Emperor.”

“You’ll be well rewarded, as promised.” Mireuk licks his lips. “Wake Seokga.”

“ Now, ” whispers Yeomra, and before Kisa has the chance to do so much as tense, the death god is lunging out of the tunnel. He’s like an arrow shot straight for Jang’s heart. With a startled cry of surprise and rage, Jang shifts into her tiger form, leaping away from Yeomra’s outstretched hands, which hold a pair of shackles similar to the ones binding Mireuk.

“Go, go, go !” Somi urges, and together they sprint for Seokga’s crumpled heap. On the slab of rock, Mireuk is silent, but Kisa knows in her bones that the god’s clouded eyes are watching her acutely as she bends over his son. She does not like the weight of his stare, as if he is not threatened at all by her presence, but merely impassive: like he’s watching an ant futilely crawl up a wall moments before being smushed. Kisa swallows in fear as she hooks her arms around Seokga’s armpits.

“Fuck, he’s heavier than he looks,” pants Somi as she tries to lift Seokga by his feet—but a heartbeat later she’s crashing into a cavern wall, having been struck by a snarling Jang. Yeomra is shouting something from the other side of the cavern, claw marks ripping across his face as he stumbles back to his feet, but the jangsan beom has turned her murderous gaze on Kisa. She hears nothing as Jang’s hot breath steams onto her face.

“Kisa,” the tiger sneers, yellow fangs glinting. “Give up.”

Yeomra is still shouting, and if Kisa were to look at the death god, she would see that his hands were raised toward the stalactites and that, swirling upward from the dark ground, skeleton soldiers are forming, crawling to their feet with rictus smiles. She is unable to move, however, as Jang’s yellow, red-stained eyes narrow at her. In her arms, Seokga stirs.

“Put him down,” the tiger demands in Jang’s voice, looking bored.

Slowly, eyes on the red thread—which has urgently arranged itself into a crude but understandable pictograph, an instruction—Kisa obeys. Jang licks her chops, smiling in the way only an apex predator can.

A moment later, at the thread’s urging, Kisa launches into action, fueled by adrenaline and anger. Hand gripping the now-solid string, Kisa leaps over Seokga’s body. Jang swipes a clawed paw at her, but Kisa jumps to the side, winding the Red Thread of Fate around the tiger’s outstretched leg. The thread does most of the work, snaking around the furred limb, but Kisa is still panting in concentration as she continues the binding.

The jangsan beom has reared onto her hind legs, giving Kisa a perfect opportunity to dive beneath her stomach, looping the red thread around the furred and muscular waist. Angry, rancid spit sprays her as Jang twists, but the red thread holds tight around the monster’s body. Even when Jang, evidently pulling a trick from Seokga’s book, shifts into her smaller human form, the red thread holds still. Kisa watches in satisfaction as the old woman topples to the ground, unable to move.

She jumps about a foot in the air when a skeleton clicks over to her, bending down to admire her handiwork. Yeomra follows, looking both impressed and annoyed as he waves a hand, dissipating the veritable army of skeletal soldiers he apparently summoned at one point during the chaos. “Nicely done,” the CEO says, but Kisa’s too exhausted to even bloom under the praise as Yeomra reaches forward and snaps a pair of bone shackles around Jang’s waist. The red thread unwinds itself from the old woman’s body and arranges itself into two thumbs up.

“ Ughggrgrg, ” Somi groans, drawing herself up to her feet and rubbing her head as she staggers over to stand next to Kisa. “That was…awful…I’m seeing double, no, triple…”

Yeomra yanks Jang to her feet and smiles unpleasantly. “Do you prefer the Hill of Knives or the Chop Shop?” he asks. “Choose wisely—it’ll be your home for all of eternity.”

“Why not send her through all seven hells?” Kisa asks, the words colder on her tongue than any words she’s ever spoken before. She grabs Somi’s hand and holds tight as she stares down their murderer. Find out who, and then hurt them. Just as they hurt her. “Over and over, until you reincarnate her as a useless, helpless slug—with all her memories—that somebody salts? Then start the process all over again. And again, and again, and again.”

“And again,” Somi adds, voice hard, squeezing Kisa’s hand in her own.

Jang pales.

“Huh.” Yeomra looks slightly awestruck. “Do you have any interest in working in our Torture Department?”

“Do it, Yeomra,” a new voice rasps. Yeomra’s eyes widen in panic and Kisa whirls around to see Seokga, standing with a slight pitch forward, green eyes glimmering. “I’ll be the one pouring the salt.”