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TIYUNG

TOWN OF ORLO, YUSAN

I t’s nearly two days before the first sliver of daylight appears. It’s faint, but it’s hope on the horizon, and it pulls me forward like a cirena call. We made it out of the Khakatan Mountains. There’s light after all this darkness.

I exchange relieved glances with Hana.

As we come out of the cave, I breathe in the rainy air and savor the fact that although it’s not sunny, it’s not dark. The gray morning sky is so welcome over pitch black. A weight lifts off my chest, making it easier to carry on.

A little town called Orlo sits nearly on the border, just a short walk from the caves.

We make our way toward it, pulling up our hoods to protect from the drizzle.

We’ll need horses or a carriage to take us to Tamneki, but as we come into the town, Hana stops at a bread house first. I suppose she’s hungry, and I am, too, but it’s a strange errand.

Stranger still is that the shelves are all empty.

But it’s warm and dry and smells like baking as we step inside. My stomach growls at the empty promise of food.

“Good day,” Hana says.

“Good day, miss,” the old woman behind the counter replies. Her long gray hair is twisted into a low bun.

Hana eyes the empty shelves and bins. There isn’t a single roll left. “Busy morning?”

“Yes, miss. The army.” The woman sighs and wipes her spotted hands on a dish towel. Hana’s eyes dart over to me and then back to the woman as she continues. “First they come and then they go, but I have nothing left to sell you today.”

The Yusanian king’s guard “appropriates,” meaning takes, everything it needs as it marches through the realm. Shopkeepers are supposed to be reimbursed, but judging from the baker’s weary tone, it isn’t true.

“Oh, I see. Maybe we shouldn’t take the Northern Road back to my mother, then,” Hana says with a frown. She’s speaking to me, but really, she’s trying to pull more information out of the old woman. I thought the woman might be a source, a spy for Hana, but now I don’t think so.

The baker shakes her head. “I wouldn’t. You’ll be behind the army the whole way as they return to the new king. Unless you have food to last you for days, you’ll go hungry.”

“Thank you for the advice, halmi,” Hana says.

Halmi technically means “grandmother,” but we also use it to show respect to elders. Hana reaches into her purse and leaves five bronze mun on the counter. A kind tip but not a remarkable amount. The woman eagerly scoops up the coins. It’s all she’ll make today.

Hana walks out, and I follow her. The shop woman casually spoke about the new king. She has to mean Seok. But what happened in Quu, then? Where is King Joon? And more importantly, where are Sora and the others? How is the war already over before it began?

“We need to go to Pont,” Hana says.

She strides quickly down the street toward the stables. I’m not sure why we are checking the stables. If the army came through, they took all the horses first.

Still, I hurry to keep up, rushing down the wet cobblestone streets. “Why Pont?”

“It’s the nearest city with a messenger house, but it’s also on the Coastal Road. We’ll have to take the longer way back to Tamneki to avoid the army.”

Hana is all drive and determination, so I keep my doubts to myself.

We get to the stables, and as I expected, all the stalls are empty.

The stable boy appears and tells us that the only animals left are two donkeys. Hana and I exchange glances. It’s not great, but the ground by the Khakatans is rocky, and riding is better than walking. Especially because I don’t really have the physical endurance for a long march.

Hana pays for the donkeys and a cart. She tips the boy a silver, and he rigs and hitches everything for us. Once he’s done, I take the reins, and Hana slides in beside me. We put our packs in the cart. It’s such a small bench that we’re touching as we slowly pull down the street.

We pass a bathhouse, which I could use, but I’m sure we’ll stop at a traveler’s inn once we get to the coast.

Hana’s eyes are vacant as she stares into the distance.

“Why do you look like that?” I finally ask.

She shakes her head and looks at me. “Because of what the baker said.”

“About the army taking her goods?” I ask.

“No,” Hana says. “The commoners and the army already know there’s a new king, and if they accept it so readily, that can only mean that word has spread that Joon is dead.”

She’s right, and it would only help us if that were the case.

King Joon’s death would mean that Sora and the others no longer have to take the Golden Ring.

Sora isn’t safe with my father in power, but in a new realm anything is possible.

Is it true, though? How did the king die with the Immortal Crown keeping him alive?

“Is he really dead?” I ask.

“That’s exactly the question we need to answer.”