Gilded (15 page)

Haemosu left his mark. My stomach rolls, remembering my stupidity.

Komo’s words haunt me:
When he touches you, he will leave his mark… and your courting begins. Each time you meet, he will pull a little piece of your soul into his realm. Until you are no longer with us.

What have I done?

“Is something wrong?” Marc asks.

I can’t speak. I yank on it until my wrist is red. I think back to when Haemosu took my hand. The burning. He must have
put the bracelet on me then. What does it mean? Why had he given me a bracelet? And why won’t it come off?

My arm is raw. Marc puts his gloved hand over my frantic one.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says softly.

I stop and bite my lips until I taste blood, sharp and metallic. “Yeah. We should go. Now.”

The forest presses in on me as if it’s watching with hidden eyes. I quicken my pace, pushing through the low branches, not caring as the boughs slap me across the face. Marc bends down and picks up my skis before running after me.

“You don’t want to forget these.” He waves them in the air.

“Right.” But all I can think about is the weight of the bracelet clamped to my wrist like a shackle.

How long do I have until he imprisons me for good? And what about Marc? Am I putting him in jeopardy just by being with him? I remember those hands clawing to get out of the palace and the bones piled in the creek bed, and I stumble over a root. I try to swallow the hard rock lodged in my throat, because I know I don’t have much time.

After dinner I head to the private room our class has reserved in the Dragon Valley Hotel for the ski party. My one and only job is to prep the hot chocolate. Yes, it’s an easy kind of job, but I can barely stir the chocolate powder into the steaming water. The sound of the screaming girls locked away in that palace fills my ears. Are they my ancestors, taken by Haemosu over the ages? Why would he even keep them there?

And then there’s the bracelet. The one that won’t come off despite my tugging and pulling until my wrist is rubbed raw.

I jump at every sudden noise, expecting Haemosu to strut through the door to take me away.

I deserve this. Komo warned me. Grandfather did everything he could to stop this from happening. But they made it seem as if I had the chance to beat him. That I could fight him.

Whatever. With a snap of his fingers, I was the equivalent of a stone statue.

I know my odds of survival.

Zero.

I arrange the cups in neat rows. I resolve to deal with whatever happened in the forest later. Hiding the bracelet somehow helps. It’s dark out, and I remember my aunt telling me Haemosu has limited power at night. I’m about to have a meltdown, and I, Jae Hwa Lee, NEVER have meltdowns.

“Jae!” Marc says, entering the room. He’s holding a stack of red boxes.

“Pepero sticks?”

“Stirring sticks.” He rips open one box and starts plopping chocolate-covered sticks into the paper cups. “Tell me you’re impressed.”

“I’m impressed. You should audition for one of those competitive cooking shows.”

We have a few minutes before the class leaders finish the games and send everyone our way, so we work quickly. Without saying anything, we’ve developed a system to get all the Pepero sticks in place. Marc rips; I dip the sticks into the cups.

Rip, dip, rip, dip.

I like the rhythm we have. We’re a team. I’m smile to myself, glad Mrs. Freeman paired us up. I feel a surge of gratitude for Michelle’s scheming, mixed with a little guilt for giving her such a hard time.

The doors slam open, and swarms of students jostle through the doorway, filling the once-quiet room with laughter. I soak it up and let myself drown in the noise. It pulls my thoughts away from earlier, and soon I’m so busy pouring, mixing, and passing out hot chocolates that the bracelet on my wrist is almost forgotten.

The line is backed up to the door; and as I pass a cup to Joey, Marc and I bump arms, and the hot chocolate sloshes all over Marc’s T-shirt. His eyes catch mine, and he smiles. My heart does the same flip that it did when I was barreling down The Cliff.

I point to the word
antique
on his soaked shirt and say, “There. Now it looks authentic.”

Soon the hot chocolates are distributed, and everyone is forming into small groups, laughing and talking. I wipe my chocolaty hands on a towel and look at Marc.

With impeccable timing, Long Legs shows up in tight leggings. I focus on wiping down the table as Marc pours the last of the hot chocolate into cups for those who want seconds.

“Marc! There you are!” Min of the Long Legs says, all bright under her glittery eye shadow and pink lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come hang with us.”

The fuzzy wrap draped over her shoulders makes her look seductive. Compared to her I must look like crap. Strands of my hair have fallen out of my braid, and my lips are chapped from the wind.

“Hey, Min,” Marc says. “Sorry. I’m busy here with Jae.”

“Marc,” she continues in that thick, creamy voice of hers, beckoning with her hand to the group that Marc usually hangs out with. “You promised. Come on; everyone’s waiting.”

“Sorry, busy.” He sweeps his hand over the hot chocolate stand, which is in fact all cleaned up.

“We’re pretty much finished here,” I say to Marc, trying to give him a way out. “You go ahead.”

“Tell the guys I’ll catch up with them later,” he tells Min.

I freeze midstroke, the rag cold under my palm. Long Legs glares at me, spins on her Gucci heels, and tramps off.

“I think you ruined her night,” I say.

“She’ll be fine.” Marc picks up a hot chocolate and hands it to me. Then he picks up one himself and knocks our cups together in a toast. “To us.”

“Us?”

“The best hot chocolate team in South Korea.”

I smile. “We should start training.”

“Olympics?”

I nod and sip my hot chocolate. We stroll pass a group of kids playing cards on the floor to the giant window in the corner of the room. He leans against the window and sets his cup on the ledge.

“I did a little research on archery,” he says.

I stare at him. “You did?”

“After watching you the other day, I thought how cool of a sport it was, but I didn’t know anything about it. Did you know that an arrow shot from the Korean horn bow can travel the farthest of any other arrow shot from a bow?”

I lift my eyebrows. “Yes, 145 meters, actually.”

“And during the Three Kingdom period the Hwarang warriors developed their archery skills to unify the land.”

I crawl up on the window ledge across from him, crossing my legs. “No, I didn’t. I guess I never paid much attention to the horn bow’s history.”

We continue chatting about the Hwarang warriors and then he finishes his spiel on the history of Korean archery, but all I
can think about is how weird it is that I’m actually enjoying hanging out with him. He’s the most normal thing in my life. And I need normal right now.

Outside, the snow falls heavy and thick, piling up on the trees and on the snow runs, glittering under the spotlights. It’s magical and perfect, and I never want it to end.

I glance over at Marc and realize he’s staring at me with those gorgeous eyes. I wish I hadn’t worn a sweater, because my cheeks are burning. I’m so hot.

He studies me intently and then lowers his voice. “Do we have a chance?”

My whole body screams to wrap my arms around him and say
YES!
but Komo’s words about Haemosu’s vengeance stop me. What if Haemosu sees me talking to Marc and hurts him next? Could I live with that?

And even if Haemosu wasn’t in the picture, Dad would totally flip.

“I don’t think we do,” I finally choke out.

He looks away. “Could you at least tell me why?”

“I should go,” I say abruptly.

“Jae.” He grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him. The way he says my name melts my insides. “Don’t go. Stay.”

His eyes study my lips, and all I can think about is how close we are. How his presence pulls at me. He reaches out his hand and runs his fingers through my hair.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers.

Our faces are breaths away. I grab the front of his sweater for support because the world is swirling like the snow outside. Beneath my palms, his heartbeat thumps, alive and wild. His
hands find mine and swallow them up. The gold ring on his finger cools my hot skin. He slowly rubs his thumb across my palm. My heart races.

His lips touch my forehead, and his hands slide up to my wrist. Then he shouts and jerks back, holding his hand.

“What’s wrong?” I say.

“That bracelet.” His face is pained. “It burned me.”

I stare at his hand, and sure enough, his fingers are red. I fumble with my sweater, pulling up the sleeve to study the bracelet, touching it lightly. It’s warm but not that hot. Then I notice one of the eyes of the five dragons has become as red as fire.

“That wasn’t red before, was it?” he asks.

No. It wasn’t.

A shiver hurtles down my spine. The iridescent ruby eye is strangely lifelike, and it is staring at me. Watching.

“Jae Hwa!”

“Jae Hwa!”

“Jae Hwa!”

“Jae Hwa!”

“Jae Hwa!”

I spin round and round, the voices calling to me in the darkness. Where am I? I reach out my hands and grope the void, swiping empty air through my fingertips.

A breeze catches my hair. “Help me,” it whispers.

I blink and search for light, but it’s as dark as the deepest night.

“Help!”

“Help!”

“Help!”

“Help!”

The voices gain in volume, pressing around me, crying over and over. I clamp my hands against my ears. “Shut up!” I yell. But the voices strengthen until I find myself huddled into a ball on the rough stone floor.

Where am I?

I already know the answer. I’m locked in a tomb with the tormented cries of my ancestors’ trapped souls. I want to help them. I do. But I’m no different than they are. I failed the first test with Haemosu just as they did. I let him touch me.

My motivation to fight has flown with the wind.

“Jae! Jae Hwa!”

Someone is shaking me. My head is tucked into my knees; I lift it and shade my face against the light. I’m scrunched into a ball in the corner of the ski resort room. How did I get here?

“You okay?” Michelle asks me as Lily wraps a blanket over my shoulders. “You were screaming and woke us up.”

“I—I’m sorry. Bad dream.” My teeth chatter even though the
ondol
heating system under the floor seeps warmth through my flannels. Lily tucks the blanket tighter around me.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lily says. “We don’t mind. Let’s pull our
yos
together for moral support.”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’d like that.”

So we drag the three
yos
next to one another and snuggle back under the covers while the snowstorm rages outside. I tuck the blanket up under my chin, willing my body to stop shaking. Lily passes out crackers, and we munch on them, listening to the howl of the wind.

“That wind,” I say, then stop. They can’t understand how it reminds me of my ancestors’ moans. I’m alone in my misery.

“Did you and Marc kiss?” Michelle asks. I suspect she’s trying to distract me from my dream.

I sigh. “I wish.”

My fingers find the bracelet on my wrist. I don’t tell her what it is or why we were distracted from our first kiss.

“I’m thinking of kissing Kumar,” Lily blurts. “Do you think I should?”

“Well, you spent enough of the day with him,” Michelle says. “I was totally the third wheel.”

“You should absolutely kiss him,” I whisper. “Because you never know if a kiss will be your last.”

In the moonlight, I catch Lily looking at me oddly, but then she says, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“And Michelle, you were right about Marc. I shouldn’t have given you a hard time about trying to hook us up.”