Archer's Quest (6 page)

They found a bench under a window at the side of the building, but Archie refused to sit. He placed himself between the bench and the tree nearby, as if he were standing guard.

Kevin allowed himself one last backward glance.
Standing so still against the side of the building, Archie probably wouldn't attract much attention. Satisfied, Kevin hurried into the museum.

Now that he was there, he felt a little shy about talking to Professor Lee. He decided to look at the exhibits first. He paid a dollar for a student's admission ticket and passed through the double glass doors. Once inside the lobby, he skimmed the map the ticket taker had given him.
Worlds of Culture
—that was it, that was the exhibit he remembered from a school field trip last year. It was on the second floor.

The museum wasn't too busy. No school groups, since it was after school, and not many people going up the escalator.

He stepped into the big hall on the second floor. Through the archway on his left, the Worlds of Culture exhibit began with Native North Americans. Kevin's class had come to the museum almost every year since first grade to see that exhibit. He knew way more about the Iroquois Nations than he did about Korea.

The Americas exhibit was the biggest. Kevin hurried through its two rooms to a door at the other end—the door into Europe. Then Africa. Around one more corner and, finally, Asia.

A big exhibit on China. A smaller one on Japan. Finally, a glass wall case with a sign at the top:
KOREA.

Kevin scanned the case anxiously. Hanging on the back wall was a fancy lady's dress. Near the front of the case was a black chest covered with pictures of mountains and dragons made of some shiny pearly stuff. If Kevin hadn't been in such a hurry, he might have taken a closer look at it.

There were two vases on stands at either side of the chest, a greenish one on the left and a gray one with blue designs on the right. And on the floor at the front there was a pair of red shoes that looked exactly like two miniature canoes. Kevin stared at the shoes for a moment. How could anyone get their feet into them? They weren't the least bit foot-shaped.

Then he looked at the cases on either side, but the one on the left was the last part of the Japanese exhibit and the one on the right was marked
VIETNAM.
So that was it for Korea. A single case with only a few things in it.

Kevin read the card in one corner of the case. The card had been printed so the explanations corresponded to the positions of the objects in the case:

T
RADITIONAL
K
OREAN DRESS—HAN-BOK, CIRCA
1875
C
ELADON VASE,
12
^th
C.
P
UNCH-ONG WARE,
16
^th
C.
W
OODEN CHEST INLAID WITH MOTHER-OF-PEARL,
CIRCA
1850
S
ILK DRESS SHOES, MID
-18
^th
C.

Useless!
Kevin fumed to himself. The oldest thing there was still way too recent. And nothing at all about either Chu-mong or magic.

It was time to see if Mr. Lee could help.

Back through Africa, Europe, and the Americas, then down the escalator. A uniformed guard directed Kevin to the information desk. The woman at the desk made a phone call, then said that Professor Lee would be out in a few minutes.

"Thanks," Kevin said. He wandered over to a bench along the wall and sat down. When grownups said "a few minutes," it usually meant a lot more than three or four minutes, which was what "a few" was
supposed
to mean.

But Kevin knew that he used the same trick himself. He sometimes said "just a few more minutes" to his mom while he was playing a video game when he knew perfectly well it would take at least twenty minutes to beat the boss or reach a save point.

His father almost never said "a few." His father spoke in exact amounts. Seven minutes to shave. Thirteen point five gallons to fill the car's gas tank. Even when Kevin was little, when they talked about the price of something, his dad always worked out what it would cost with the tax included.

Thinking about numbers reminded Kevin of the problem he hadn't been able to figure out earlier, about what element he was. Archie seemed to think the zodiac stuff was important. And besides, there was hardly anything else to go on.

Okay. Don't go too fast. One thing at a time. Start with the number of years between Archie's birth and mine.

The website had given 55
B.C.
as the year Chu-mong/Archie was born.

55
B.C.
—
a Fire-tiger year.

A.D
.
1987
—
the Tiger year I was born in.

Kevin used his finger as if it were a pencil and "wrote" the arithmetic on the palm of his hand. It was a habit he'd picked up from his dad; he did it whenever the numbers were too hard to compute easily in his head. It felt almost like working it out on paper.

55
plus 1,987 equals 2,042.

Kevin double-checked to make sure he'd gotten it right—another habit drilled into him by his dad.

2,042. Okay, now what?

If he divided by 12—12 years in each cycle—he'd get the number of cycles, right? Was that what he needed?

Well, it couldn't hurt.

2,042 divided by 12 equals ...

170, with a remainder of 2.

170 2/12.
Which equals 170 1/6.

One-sixth? What the heck did the one-sixth mean?

170 ... 170 cycles...

Kevin sat very still and stared at the floor without seeing it. He knew this feeling: He had reached the point where either he'd "get it" or things would slip away from him like they were made of smoke.

Focus. Concentrate.

One-sixth ... one-sixth of a cycle!

170 complete cycles, and the next cycle only one-sixth finished!

He raised his head in triumph.

"You must be Kevin," said the man standing in front of him.

Professor Lee was smiling. "I think we've met before, but it was a long time ago." He was tall and thin, with less hair than Kevin remembered. Older than his parents but younger than his grandparents.

Kevin blinked. "Hi," he said. He stood up and stuck out his hand.

The professor drew closer to shake Kevin's hand. He frowned a little. "Your eye—are you okay?"

"What? Oh, that," Kevin said, and reached up to touch the sore spot just below his eye. "No, it's fine, really. I—I bumped it earlier, that's all."

Mr. Lee was still frowning. "Did you put some ice on it? We could get some in the cafeteria."

"No, it's okay," Kevin said. "I can hardly feel it. Really."

The man nodded. "All right, then. Let me know if you change your mind. How are your folks?" Without giving Kevin a chance to answer, he went on, "Why don't we go into my office. I think we'll be more comfortable there."

He led Kevin through a set of double doors into a corridor lined with more doors. As they walked, Kevin allowed himself one last review of the numbers to make sure he wouldn't forget them.

2,042 years between my birth and Archie's. That's
1
70 cycles plus a sixth of the next one. Got it. Now, let's see if this guy knows anything useful.

A thick gray carpet padded their footsteps. Paintings hung on the walls, each with its own tiny light fixture above the frame.

It was awfully fancy, especially compared to the offices Kevin was used to: his dad's tiny cubicle, barely big enough for a desk and chair and computer; his mom's corner in a room shared with five other teachers, papers and files and books strewn everywhere.

Kevin rubbed his sweaty hands against his pants. Here in this hushed corridor, the time he'd spent with
Archie seemed a million years ago, and more unreal than ever. He couldn't possibly tell Mr. Lee the truth. He'd just have to wing it.

The professor opened the last door on the right and politely waited for Kevin to enter first. The room was not very big, but it was just as fancy as the corridor. Dark wood furniture, scrolls and paintings on the walls, a row of shelves that held books and lots of little statues and pottery and things.

The window behind the desk looked out onto the parking lot. Kevin stared for a moment, realizing that the window must be on the same wall where Archie was waiting. In fact, with Mr. Lee's office being at the end of this wing, Archie must be standing just to the left of the window. Kevin was tempted to peek out, but that would have meant going behind the desk, and Mr. Lee was already settling into his chair.

"Now, how can I help you?" Mr. Lee asked. He gestured toward a leather chair in front of the desk.

Kevin sat down and pushed his toes into the carpet to keep from sliding around on the shiny leather. "Um, well. I'm doing this project on Korean history, but I can't find the information I need, and my grandpa thought maybe you could help."

"Yes, he called me," the professor said. "Did you know that our families knew each other in Korea? He is
a few years older than I am, and he went to school with my oldest brother. How is he?" Again without waiting for an answer, he continued, "You must give him my regards. Tell him to come to the museum sometime, and to bring your grandmother, and I'll give them a private tour."

"Thanks, I'll tell him," Kevin said politely.

"Oh, and of course the invitation is open to you and your parents, too." Mr. Lee smiled and nodded.

"Thanks," Kevin said again. What was it with grownups and chitchat—why couldn't he just find out what he needed to know and get out of there?

"Your project," Mr. Lee said. "Something for school?"

Kevin didn't want to lie. "No, not exactly. Just something I'm—I'm interested in."

"About Korean history. Well, well." The professor leaned back in his chair. "I must say, I'm very pleased to see a young person such as yourself taking an interest in your heritage."

My heritage? Oh, brother. I couldn't care less about my heritage—I'm just trying to help Archie.

"Um, yeah. And I've been on the Internet, and to the library catalogs, but I guess the—the area I'm researching is pretty obscure. There doesn't seem to be much information about it."

"Which area is that?"

Kevin took a breath. "I want to know about a guy—I mean, a king. I mean, um—"
Gosh, I'm messing this up.
"He was this historical figure. Named Chu-mong."

Mr. Lee sat up and beamed. "Chu-mong!" he exclaimed. "What an extraordinary coincidence! Kevin, Korean royalty is a special interest of mine. Tan-gun, Chu-mong, Ki-ja—all the legendary kings of Korea. I have studied them for years! Lucky boy, you've come to the right place. Now, what is it you want to know?"

"Er, well—" Kevin stopped.
Heck, I don't
know
what I want to know! Everything? Anything?

Fortunately, the professor had that helpful habit of not waiting for answers to questions. "Chu-mong was much beloved by his people. Do you know how he gathered support for his kingship? He walked throughout the kingdom, and wherever he went he talked to people. Ordinary people. When the time came for him to create a ruling council, he chose not only government officials but also a farmer and a fisherman to guide him."

Maybe there's a clue in there somewhere. You know—like I have to find a farmer and a fisherman to help out.

Kevin squirmed a little in the chair. That was like hoping for a magic word again, as if this were some kind of video game.
It's not like that. Not one bit. I don't have any idea how Archie ended up in my bedroom, so how
could I possibly have any idea how to send him back?

"There are also many legends about him," the professor went on. "In the Korean imagination, he is rather like King Arthur. A man who really existed but who was so revered that he became the subject of many tales of magic and mystery."

"Magic?" Kevin said, sitting up straighter.

"Yes. During Chu-mong's time people held a great belief in magic. It helped explain many things they did not understand." Mr. Lee smiled. "There are times when I regret that there is so little belief in magic in our day and age. I think a bit of mystery enriches our lives. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Um, yeah," Kevin said.
But too much mystery can sure confuse a person.

"I'm sure you've already learned what a remarkable archer he was," the professor said. "In his time, Korea became known as a land of great archers. Oh, and here's something you might not know: He's supposed to be the one who introduced the use of chopsticks to Korea."

"Really? How did people eat before that?"

"Probably with their hands. Chopsticks are a Chinese invention, and Chu-mong's family came to Korea from China, so it is thought that he is the one who made it a Korean custom as well."

Well, that was pretty cool. Probably made it less messy for people not to have to eat with their hands all the time. Still, it didn't seem to be the kind of information that would help get Archie back to Korea. In desperation, Kevin began to look around the room. The scrolls, the pottery ... was there anything here that might be a clue?

Mr. Lee must have noticed him looking around. "I'm afraid none of the artifacts I have will be of any help to you. Everything the museum owns dates from long after the time of Chu-mong. Even in Korea itself, there is precious little from his era—some pottery shards, bronze belt buckles, a few daggers."

He pointed to a picture on one of the shelves; it was of a much younger Mr. Lee standing in front of what looked like a construction site. "Many years ago, I was able to visit several archaeological digs there. I used to dream of finding an arrowhead from the time of Chu-mong, but I never did." The professor shook his head, looking a little sad.

Kevin twitched.
I could tell him where there are a bunch of those arrowheads—right outside his window.
Should he tell Mr. Lee about Archie? Would that help get Archie back to Korea—and back to his own time?